#tw: fighting

[craetor]

Played a little too rough❣️

#my art #lawlight #light yagami #l lawliet #death note #tw: fighting #domestic lawlight #isolation lawlight #dark art

[marcellaasblog]

Not my scent after all.

Main masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Eddie finds out that you know about Amelia. You are going to do any and everything in your power to fuck up Eddie and Amelia's life and take revenge into your own hands with a little someone by your side.

Warnings: So much ANGST!, fighting, mention of cheating, divorce,talk of pregnancy,hurt/confort, happy ending for the reader!

Author's notes: I had help from this amazing person right here @ejlpov she put so much of her amazing ideas into part 2 so thank you for that cause if she didn't do that I would of gave y'all a sad ending💕

Also I recommend reading her fic if you love angst as much as I do!

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When Eddie had got out the restroom he was met with the perfume bottle straight to his head .

"BABE WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?" Eddie asked as he picked up the perfume bottle glancing up you as you give him the "you know what you did" look. Eddie could feel his heart about to stop any moment as he see you with his phone in your hands. He glances down at your feet as he sees all his shit layed out on the bed.

" we talk about this?" Eddie pleads.

"Nothing to talk about, Edward. Except you don't need to wait till Friday to see your whore". You stands, walking towards the chest of draws you use to share with him , grabbing his keys, removing the ones to the house tossing them and his phone to him, before heading into the bathroom. "now you get to see her everyday. Make sure you're gone by the time I get out, I'll make sure to take your shit to you later."

The click of the bathroom door locking brings Eddie to his senses. It never occurred to him that he would lose her. He lost her. He actually lost her, and now he has to deal with the consequences.

*Ding*

Eddie phone goes off

Amelia:I miss you too baby, wish I could see you now, but I know you'll make it worth my while when I see you on Friday. Good thinking of getting the same perfume. She's so pathetic that she'll never suspect now.

Guilt fills him with a sickening feeling. Eddie's finger hovers over the keys before looking at the bathroom door. He knows she is crying in there, and he's the reason for it. He begins writing

"uh about Friday...."

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Today was no other good day for you at all you didn't go to sleep last night until 3:00 as you cried your eyes out wondering why he would do this to you and what led him to do it.

Today you were determined to take him all his shit, but that wasn't enough for you you wanted him to suffer you were pissed, angry, frustrated ,sad your high school sweetheart the person that you said your vows to, the person that you made love to,the person that brought you comfort an happiness, the person that you made it home for in your heart ,just broke every promise he ever made to you. you weren't about to sit back and let him get away with this shit.

You wanted him to hurt , to suffer,to feel like his whole life was falling apart.

.

You stopped at Eddie's job at the garage as you take in all the boxes of his clothes and accessories he still had at the house.

You were met with his manager Bobby at the front desk he looked at you like you were so crazy woman.

"what's all this dear." He asked as he took a quick Snoop of all the things in the box.

"I'm dropping off Eddie's stuff here I don't feel like meeting him anywhere or even looking at him." You we're on the verge of crying and Bobby can sense that you were frustrated just by the look on your face.

"what did he do?" That was the only question Bobby had to ask before you broke down.

"He,he fuc-ken cheated on me bobbyyy." You say as you you leaned on to the desk, Bobby got out from his chair as he took you into his arms and trying to calm you down.

"shhh sweetie breath, take a deep breath for me doll."bobby said as he rubs your back breathing in and out with you counting to 3 as you exhaled every breath.

He would have never thought in his years of knowing you and Eddie that he would do such a thing to you.

"It hurts, it hurts so bad. I trusted him and he took advantage of that.i don't wanna feel like this bobby, our whole relationship was built on lies. I thought he ACTUALLY LOVED ME." You yelled as bobby held you tightly in his arms he is comforting you as you let all your emotions out.He can feel your tears on his shirt and your hands squeezing against his arm as you sobbed violently into his chest.

Bobby didn't know to do to calm you down so he did what he knows best.

"what a dickhead.you want me to go beat him up or key his car cause I don't mind." Bobby asked as he hears you giggle into his chest.

"No it's alright bobby thank you." You say as you let go of him he brings to your cheek as he wipes away the tears.

"no problem sweetheart,but can I asked you something." He applied waiting for you to answer.

"Go ahead." You say as you already know what he's about to ask

"I don't want to get up in your business but do you know who the woman was?" He wanted to help you that's the only reason why he's asking.

"I don't know her but it was some women named Amelia,it seem like he was real close with her too."

Bobby didn't say nothing as he looked at you. His mouth hung low.

"Amelia what?" Bobby asked. You can feel his grip getting tighter around you.

"That's all it said. Their was no contact photo or even the last name.. why you asking?" you were looking at Bobby like if he was the crazy person.

"I gotta go, look just leave his stuff on my desk I'll take care of it later but here's my number because if it's right about what I'm thinking then you're going to need it." He said as he quickly grabbed a sticky note writing his number on it. He runs out of the shop apologizing to you again.

What the fuck was that all about? you thought.

Why would you need his number?

It took you a second to realize what he meant by needing his number if he was right.

Oh shit....

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Eddie had to go back to live with Wayne until he could get things situated.

When Wayne asked Eddie what happened, Wayne never felt more dissipointed in his nephew untill now.

Why would Eddie do such a thing to you? You were a sweetheart you did nothing wrong to Eddie, you loved him unconditionally and this is what his nephew does to you.

Wow smart move boy,but Wayne knows you, he knows you won't Just sit back and leave it . Whatever you do to get back at Eddie all by mean he won't stop you from the karma that is coming to Eddie.

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Eddie you went to work week after like nothing happened. When he entered the shop his manager Bobby went up to him punching eddie right in the face.

"REALLY MUNSON YOU CHEAT ON YOUR FUCKEN WIFE WITH MINE!" Eddie did know what to say or do as he can feel the warmth of his blood dripping from his nose.

"COME ON YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY FOR YOURSELF YOU FUCKEN ASSHOLE!" Bobby said as he kicks Eddie in the stomach with all his strength he had left in him.

It's Bobby's turn to break to down he should of never believed Amelia when she said she wouldn't cheat anymore.

Him and Amelia had kids a family and she still broke her promise.

Bobby gives Eddie all his stuff and the vanilla folder with the divorce papers you have already signed.

"I don't want you near y/n you got it Munson,take your shit and leave and make sure you sign those divorce papers or I'll make you."

Divorce papers?

Eddie couldn't believe it.

You wanted to divorce him you couldn't even give him a chance to explain himself.

Eddie wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole he felt his heart sink his mind gone dizzy he couldn't hold back his sobs any more .

He fucked up and he's paying for his actions.

"oh and by the way, your fired." Bobby told him as he told Eddie to leave.

Not only did Eddie lose his wife but he also lost his job.

One down one more to go.

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When Bobby found out that Amelia was cheating on him again but this time with Eddie he didn't let her know he wanted to see if she would confess or she would play through her acts and lies still.

When Bobby told you that he knew Amelia and Amelia was his wife you felt sorry for him he could feel your pain as you sat across from him at the coffee shop . He told you it wasn't her first time cheating on him she did it back in high school during prom night and he still stayed with her.She did it a couple of months after giving birth to her second child Bryan.

He loved Amelia and he wanted to do everything in his power to keep her no matter what she was doing.

He wanted to do it for the kids he didn't know how he was going to tell his two boys that their mommy didn't love daddy anymore. he probably won't tell them at all their still to younge.

He couldn't watch their little faces break over something he had no control over.

That weekend you and Bobby went to go get the divorce papers for you and him.

He knew that you didn't want to see Eddie face to face so he gladly said he would give him your divorce papers as well as he gives Amelia her.

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Night before Bobby would give Eddie the divorce papers he sat down Amelia at the table right after she put her kids to sleep. He didn't wait any longer he wanted her out.

"How long?" He asked .

"Excuse me?" Amelia asked .

"How long have you been sleeping with Eddie?"

Amelia's face drops as her blood run cold she knew she got caught and she knew this day would come every other time she would cheat Bobby seemed to catch on.

"HOW LONG!" he yelled

"5 Months." She whispered

Bobby looked at her with discuss. Why would she lied him again? She promised him and she still did it .

"I need you out of the house by tomorrow morning. You can keep everything except the car I gave you and the kids,they will stay with me.Im gonna take full custody of them". He said resting his hand in his face.

He tries to not show his red teary eyes. He didn't want to show Amelia that this was hurting him he wanted to make a point that he wasn't going to deal with her shit anymore.

"WAIT NO BABY YOU CANT DO THAT TO ME!" Amelia yell jumping out of her chair I should try to go hug her out now ex-husband.

Bobby backed away from her

"WHY? HUH WHY CANT I DO THAT AMEILA ,BECAUSE YOU SEEM NOT TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THIS FAMILY."!

He may be holding back his tears but he's not going to hold back his words.

"IM PREGNANT!"

Bobby let out a little chuckle as he leans back into his chair.

"well you can go tell Munson to take care it, because that's not my fucken kid, is it?"

Amelia let's her head drop as she sways her head side to side telling him no.

Bobby gets up from his chair ready to head up to bed.

"well I think we're done here, you can sleep in the couch tonight but tomorrow I want you gone." He said walking up his stairs.

He didn't know how he was going to tell you that Amelia was pregnant with Eddie's baby, He didn't want to hurt you more but he knew you needed to know.

Boddy cried himself to sleep that night as he crawled up into a ball wishing he would of just left Amelia that night at prom.

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After he gave Eddie the divorce papers that morning he called you to telling you to meet him at the same cafe place again.

He needed to talk to you and you knew by the tone of his voice it wasn't good news.

Sadly for him you didn't have good news eaither.

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Bobby didn't wait no time telling you what happened.

"I gave Amelia the divorce papers, but whag I'm about to tell you right now was a shock to me too and I don't want to hurt you but you need to know."

You gulp down your coffee not quite ready for what Bobby's about to tell you.

"Amelia's pregnant and I know it's not mine because we haven't done anything in months." Bobby says running his hands threw his Beard.

"bobby." You say as your eyes start to swell up.

He grabs your hand for confort waiting for you to continue.

"I'm pregnant. I found out a couple of days ago I thought it was just me getting sick because I've been crying alot but I took a pregnancy test , well 2 of them and they both came out postive." Bobby squeezes your hand as he gets up to give you a hug . He didn't care if people were looking at him all he wanted to do right now was to hold you.

"I don't know what to do, this is my first time being a mom and at that a single mom." You cry into his chest as he rubs your head smoothing your hair down from your face.

He whispers into your ear .

"Hey you got this I know you do, and you don't have to be alone you have me" you giggle at his kind gesture whipping your tears away.

"No pretty girl should be crying over a man , especially Eddie. I will do everything in my will and to keep you safe okay. I'm sorry Amelia dragged you into this and split y'all up and I'm sorry Eddie was such a dickhead to fall for it .You don't deserve that baby , no one does."

"Not even you bobby,she ruin everything a woman would of wanted."

You kind words melted his heart as he bits down on his lip not wanting to cry in front of you.

" It's alright shit happened but we learn from it and move on."

"yeah I mean karma is bitch." You smirked at bobby

"she definitely is." Bobby said getting up from the table.

"They will definitely get what's coming to them."

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9 months later

Life was much better for you and Bobby now, but for Eddie and Amelia, well, let's just say they got what they deserve .

You see, Bobby was a very well-respected businessman and mechanic who owned serval garages in Hawkins and surrounding towns, meaning Eddie was blacklisted. No garage was willing to hire him. He couldn't even get a loan to open his own shop. The only job Eddie could get was at the plant with Wayne, and that was cause he was now the hiring supervisor. He was back to living in the trailer with Wayne now too, sleeping on the old fold up bed Wayne sleep on in Eddie younger years.

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Bobby got everything, too, including full custody of the kids. The kids love you as well, evening going as far as calling you mom in front of Amelia, referring to her by name whenever they saw her.

Amelia was your standard stay a home wife. Never working a day in her life once she met Bobby. Amelia had everything people wished for, a rich husband, a beautiful house, and even two beautiful children. She was spoiled and never heard the word no, until she begged Bobby to forgive her and take her back even after he said no multiple times.

She works as the lunch lady at Hawkins High - the only place that would hire her, her reputation as homewrecker following her everywhere now.

Eddie wouldn't take her either, breaking things off the night you found out. Feeling sick with himself every time he saw or heard her voice and name.

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You pretend Eddie never existed moving on with your knew life with you new fiance and your first kid to be brought into this world. You gave your little girl Bobby's last name , you didn't want a low life cheaters last name to carry on with your daughter. You and Bobby welcomed home a new addition to your little family.

Barbra Benson.

You can say karma was on your side.

I hoped y'all liked the ending and another thank you to @ejlpov for you amazing ideas for the ending 💕

Taglist: @sadbitchfangirl @maxstecc @cassielvy @zaddyskye69

The @ that are crossed out for some reason it didn't let me tag y'all so sorry!

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #tw: cheating #tw: fighting #tw: violence

[crisiscutie]

Yandere Sephiroth can't hold him self back anymore and want to make love to his female darling but his darling won't back down so she grabs her sword and fights him

This prompt screams for 7R Sephy. My creepy, yandere bastard could barely contain his intense emotions in that game.

Content Warnings: NSFW, Non-con, Rough Sex, Impregnation, Blood.

A part of you knew that you wouldn't win against him. But you tried anyways. Maybe when you can finally be at peace with yourself if you actually fought this time. You're not going back "home" with him.

When Sephiroth was waiting for you in the dark, silent depths of the woods, behind the inn you stayed at, you knew you had to act quickly. The one area that used to be your refuge is now tainted with his presence. You've just left him, but now it's time to show yourself that you've really moved past him... You summoned your blade as you rushed at him.

For a moment, he played along. He effortlessly knocked away your strikes as a smirk of amusement crossed his face. He felt an influx of new strength from you, but it was still not enough to overcome him. His desire for you has been further strengthened by your cute defiance. You're his precious darling, and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Eventually, he grew weary of this "mock" fight. He coolly jabbed his blade through your lower arms, your thighs and leg in tandem. You yelped, crashing to the ground. You tried to keep your tears at bay, and the coppery taste of blood lingered in your mouth as his broad, threatening figure loomed over you. He couldn't wait to have you. Your womb will be his.

The next few moments happened so fast for you. You felt the ground beneath you shift as he moved you. You didn't register that you were now straddling him. You felt woozy from the loss of blood, and the throbbing pain consumed your senses, as your arms hang limply at your sides. That's why it took you longer to realize that your panties were brushed to the side, his cock slowly pushing in and out of you. He's just barely inside you, and already your hole is struggling to accommodate him. He cups your face with one hand, feeling the softness of your skin and admiring your beauty beneath him.

As your unprepared cunt constricted around him, he speeds up. He wanted to keep teasing you, but his primal need to claim your womb overrode it. Your body trembles with need for his seed for some reason. If only your clit and cunt revulsed from him as your mind did.

Your heart swelled with love for him at one point. But when his temper and control of you became too much to bear, you had no choice but to flee. But of course, he found you at the inn you both first met. He'd always say you're so easy to predict... He quickened his pace and his light grip on your hips became harsh. He then suddenly sent you crashing to the ground, his weight nearly crushing you afterwards, as a cruel smirk spreads across his face.

Tears cascaded down your face as your body squirmed from the impact. You started to feel a sharp, stabbing pain in your lower abdomen as he yanked you closer to his base. His cock batters your cervix without mercy, as his own satisfaction is paramount, not yours.

No. No. NO!

You panicked as you felt your cervix struggling to hold up against the pressure. Your mouth opened and closed, but the only sound that escaped were pitiful whimpers. You don't have the means to take care of a child, especially not his. The thought of this filled your mind with revulsion, finally causing your body to tense up. Unfortunately for you, this action only seemed to fuel his need to make your cervix yield.

You lost all thought as your body trembled with an intense orgasm, and he followed suit. His corrupted seed flooded your defenseless womb as he let out a soft groan. Your screams were filtered out by the night's ambiance.

Sephiroth didn't pull out of you, as he was determined to see that every drop of him stays within you. After moments of tense silence, he reaches out for your stomach bulge, feeling his large cock through it. He is filled with satisfaction and twisted happiness as he envisions about how this seed of life will blossom into a beautiful product of love that he and you created together.

Sephiroth tenderly picked you up and cradled your petite body, as he casted Cure on you with his healing materia. As the magic slowly mended your wounds, you felt the sharp sting of pain, a reminder of the consequences for your disobedience. He sets a course for "home" as a wave of energy rippled through the surrounding air, forming a dark portal. You don't know why, but you relaxed in his grasp, leaning into his chest. You breathed in the lingering scent of his fragrant hair shampoo. Chuckling at the action, his eyes glowered at you as you both descended into the darkness....

punishment. Alternate Title: Darling Leaves Sephiroth and Gets Mating Pressed by Him as Result

#yandere sephiroth x reader #yandere x reader #yandere sephiroth #yandere final fantasy #sephiroth #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy x reader #tw: noncon #tw: blood #tw: fighting #The Crisis Cutie Collection

[hannahssimblr]

After a freezing, wet trek along the Clontarf seafront I turn into Michelle’s estate. All the houses have warm, yellow light spilling out the windows onto the grey, rain beaten pavement, inviting, yet it only reminds me of how grim this damn country is in the winter. It's been eight years since we moved here now and yet I still don't understand how people are supposed to cope with the winter. I suppose they don’t. I suppose we just accept that we will be a little bit sad for a while. 

They always leave the door off the latch for me on Tuesdays, they know I’m coming, and I let myself into the warmth of their home. It always smells good here, tonight like seafood and lemongrass, and whatever is cooking sizzles enticingly on the pan. I won’t ask for food, I never dare to, but if they offer I have yet to refuse them.

Rahim Tengu peers into the hallway as I shut the door. He is cooking in a suit. He’s always wearing one, even when doing things like mowing the lawn in the heat of summer. 

“Jude,” he says, “Wet outside, eh?”

“Yeah,” I take my shoes off and leave them by the door, “Whatever you’re making smells good, like always.”

“Nasi Lemak,” He says, “I’ll leave a plate for you when you're finished”

“Oh, thank you.”

He hesitates, “So how are your studies?”

“Yeah, good. Trying to get back into the swing of it since the new year. Fifth year is tough, you know?”

“Yes,” Another pause. Rahim is the most awkward of all the dads, he never knows what to say to me, but I let him think on it for another moment, brows knitted, spoon halfway to the pan, before I decide to put him out of his misery. 

“Jen upstairs?”

“Yes, yes, in her room.”

“Cool, see you in a while then.”

She’s sprawled out of the duvet with her earphones in, laying still like a corpse with her hands clasped on her stomach and white socks stacked on the pillows.

“Oh, you’re here,” she drawls. She doesn't even have to open her eyes to know it.

“You sound thrilled.”

“Ugh,” She flips to her stomach, pulls at her iPod cable and tosses the whole thing towards the head of the bed, “Come on, then, make me feel like a dumb bitch.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” I dig my maths notes out of my school bag and join her on the bed, “You been practising your trig?”

“That the one with the protractors?” 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

She lays still for a long moment, just staring into the middle distance before gathering the energy to learn. She falls onto her back and pulls the book I have opened toward her. “‘In the diagram, [AB] and [DC] are two parallel roads, where [AB] = 800m and [DC] = 500m. By measurement, it is determined that [<ABC] = 75° and that [BC] = 600m. Find [AC] to the nearest metre,’” She looks at me, eyes filled with hopeless despair, “How am I meant to know?”

“Well, do you remember what we went over before Christmas? The cosine rule?”

“Before Christmas? You might as well be talking a decade ago. I don’t remember anything that happened before last week. My brain is mush.”

I pull out my ruler, “Well, look, let’s start by drawing it out so we can visualise it, like this, then, we know that A² = B² + C² - 2BCcosA…”

“Do we know that? Are we sure?” 

“Jenny, yes. C’mon, we’ve done this.”

“I don’t think you understand how much I hate maths.”

“It’s not that bad, look, based on the cosine rule and the information we know already, we can write out the formula, right? x=(600)² + (800)² - 2(600)(800)cos 75°, so all you have to do is work that out.”

“Oh, is that all.”

“Yeah, so c’mere, hand me your calculator, it’s-” A shriek from the next room almost rattles my skeleton free from my flesh. 

“Why are you always like this?” It's Michelle. “I’m old enough! Just let me go!”

I glance awkwardly at Jen who is ignoring it, diligently punching the formula into her calculator and kicking her feet in the air. 

“When you demonstrate responsibility,” her mother screams back, “I will give you freedom, but until then…”

“Don’t look so shocked,” Jen says when she catches sight of my stricken expression, “You and Collette are like this.” 

“Not really. We don’t scream at each other.”

“This is just the volume they speak at here. It’s not as dramatic as it sounds. They're kind of just... having a conversation.” 

“Okay but you’re being such a bitch about it.” Michelle bites out, and I wince. 

“I don’t talk to my mom like that.”

Jen shrugs, “It’s not that serious, really, they don’t mean it. They'll be all lovey-dovey-happy-families again tomorrow. You get used to it.” she scribbles something onto her copy book and pushes it toward me “X equals 751533?”

I frown, “I don’t know, let me check.”

“Well you’re a nightmare of a daughter sometimes, do you hear me? I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to be up here shouting at you, but you drive me to distraction with all of this carry on!”

“Um,” my fingers hesitate on the buttons of the calculator, “So… it was… (600)² which is…”

Something clatters to the floor and they start shouting even louder. The corners of Jen’s mouth curl up, “Let’s take a break, yeah? We can drown it out with some music.”

“Good idea.”

She scrambles to fetch her iPod again and hands me one earbud. We lie back on the pillows while she puts on some whiny emo track about a guy who is either dying or wishing he was dead. 

“Are you traumatised by Michelle and her mam because it reminds you of your parents?” She leans over me and sweeps my hair from my forehead. I laugh, “You trying to therapize me?” 

“You said they fought when you were small.”

“Yeah but I only heard it a handful of times, I wouldn’t say I am traumatised.” 

“Still, I think there’s something lodged in your psyche about it, it’s why you hate conflict.”

“Nobody likes conflict.”

“Yeah but most people don’t avoid it like you,” She pokes my arm because I've looked away, “Hey, would you say that you’d rather run away from your problems than face them?”

“Did you steal that question from your counsellor?”

She pretends to be shocked, “Um, no! Excuse me.”

“You’re excused. Hey, would you like it if my voice sounded like this guy’s?” I tilt the iPod screen to her and point to the album cover guy who has blood pouring down his face. 

“First of all, that’s not the guy singing, that’s a cartoon. Secondly, I don’t know what you even mean.”

I lean into her ear and put on the whiniest voice I can in imitation of him “Hhhhwhat’s the worst that I can say… hhhthings are better if I stay…”

She snorts and shoves me off her, “Go away, you freak.”

“hhhAND IF WE CARRY ON THIS HHHWWWHAYAH…”

Jen’s bedroom door opens and I jump. Michelle stands there frowning. I hadn’t even realised in the midst of my caterwauling and our hysterical giggles that the shouting had stopped.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #hello Michelle #prizes for guessing who Jude is making fun of #the emo content is good for my soul tbh #tw: fighting

[writingforatwistedworld]

Phantom bride event-Player is their last option Pt. 3

Characters: Jade Leech, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spades

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, imprisonment, kidnapping, violence, murder, religion, fighting, marriage

Well well well, would you look at that?

Our usually high and mighty sir “nothing-can-shake-me-up” is shaken up!

What a rare sight to see

If it were just you being there bad enough but now you are also the last option

Which means that you are in even greater danger!!!

It's angwy eel time

Oh yes, I call him angwy because what is he supposed to do? The worst that can happen is him biting the air

Ok to be honest one guard was freaked out by the sound of his teeth snapping shut (you know, that one) and put a piece of cake in his face

God he looks pitiful...

But *ahem* you stand in front of the bride and all he can think about is how defenseless you and your lips are

No matter if you are considered a God, a almighty sorcerer or something else depending on the place, that is going to kill you!!!

Jade just wants to protect you ;_;

Depending on whom you ask (Jade or the rest of any world) but “protecting you” has a different meaning

For the rest of the world: making sure that you are safe

For Jade: locking them up in a house under the sea without any contact to outsiders

But oh well, he has experience taking care of others because of his job in Azuls *cough* shady businesses so yeah... you will live at least a comfortable life... with a lot of manipulation....

He is so proud at you.... whilst crying of disappointment in the Headmage

He trusted him!

This couldn't go unpunished! After he was free he will chop his head off as if he was the servant of a different Queen!

Burn the sinners!!! This was heresy!!!

Easy Lilia, your blood pressure! You are not as young as you once were even if you don't look your age!!!

But back to the subject!

Lilia is oddly silent

I mean, yes, he is heartbroken that he is not the one you are proposing to

But at the same time, go betray dead lady! “YOU GO YOUR HOLINESS!!!!” - Lilia Vanrouge, a very old person

At the same time he is worried to bits

Lilia trained all his life so that he could protect and safe you

And now you are saving him!

Did he just die from high blood pressure or why is he seeing you and himself on a white horse, in wedding attire, riding into the sunset...

And then you... you have to duke it out with a ghost in the parking lot...

Ok jokes aside, not in the parking lot but you had to show them all that yes, you were able to throw hands if enough adrenaline was in your system

Ah, maybe he will order that banana and mango cake Deuce is just munching on because a guard shoved that into his mouth to shut his screaming up....

Poor poor Deuce...

He was already heartbroken enough...

AND NOW YOU ARE ALSO IN DANGER!!!!

Nu-uh! Not under his watch

He had already been screaming because he wasn't the one you were proposing to (which earned him mouthful after mouthful of cake)

And what was he supposed go do now??! Watching you being in danger of dying??!

My friend just blue screens

As if some sort of treat in his head snapped he suddenly snaps his mouth closed

For a entire minute (scary is all I can say)

The guard beside him is already checking if he is just about to join their ranks

But no. Congrats Deuce, you live another day to witness this madness

He is in truth planning what to do after all of this with you

He has been taking care of a lot of things to help his mother so you surely wouldn't mind if he also did that with you, right?

Even though you are looked into a house with only one door and iron bars in front of the windows in the middle of nowhere, right?

You don't mind being completely dependant on him, right??!

But hey, you got a loving partner... and that is everything positive I can say about his plan.... Good luck! Do I get invited to your wedding when that happens?

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere jade #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere lilia #yandere lilia x reader #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere deuce #yandere deuce x reader #yandere deuce spade #tw: yandere #tw: imprisonment #tw: kidnapping #tw: violence #tw: murder #tw: religion #tw: fighting #tw: marriage

[leiawritesstories]

PART SIX: JUNE

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: swearing, violence, breaking and entering, fuzzy science, scheming, flirting and more flirting, innuendo, a villain, more violence, blood, minor character death

shout out to @house-of-galathynius for beta reading this hot mess and to @backtobl4ck for encouraging frederick

I don't know if I should say this, but...enjoy!! 😁😈

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Moon Moon!” Aelin clapped her hands twice as she strolled past Fenrys, who lounged against the Boss’s office door like it was the most natural place for him to be. “Thanks for showing up.” 

The blonde man shrugged, a half-smirk curling his lips. “Like I had a choice.” 

“You always do.” She threw him Celaena’s sweet little grin that usually made people either piss themselves, cry, or start babbling. “You can choose to show up, or you can choose to die.” 

“Not much of a choice, Boss,” he drawled. He flopped into the chair across from her desk. “So tell me, who’s the mark?” 

Aelin tapped on her computer for a few minutes before she slid a single sheet of paper across the desk. “Have a good long look, Moon Moon, because this is the only time you’ll see all of this info in one place.” As the Boss, she was many things, and stupid was decidedly not one of them. 

Fen picked up the paper, his dark eyes scanning each line of text and small, grainy photo. He cocked one blonde brow. “Rourke Farran, eh?” Not looking up from the paper, he huffed out a breath. “The man’s whole fuckin’ house is a booby trap, Boss.” 

“I’m aware.” 

“So what’s this bastard done to…god damn.” Before he could even ask the full question, it was answered. “He’s got a front for a front.” 

“I have never tolerated, nor will I ever tolerate, the treatment of human beings like commodities,” Aelin said softly, lethally. Celaena Sardothien’s notorious steel undercut her tone. “Farran thinks he can get away with it because I haven’t come for him. Yet.” 

Fenrys whistled lowly and set down the paper. “What’s your timeline, Boss?” 

Aelin liked this man more and more with each interaction. “I need Farran at the river warehouse by the 10th. You can use whatever means necessary, beat him up a little, get him nice and ready for his session with me, but don’t even fucking think about killing him.” 

“Don’t worry, Boss.” A lazy, hungry grin unfurled across Fen’s handsome face, the dim lamplight reflecting off the scars on his cheeks. “Softening up bad boys is my specialty.” 

“That’s why I hired you.” Aelin took back the paper and tossed it into the shredder next to her desk, which ate through the single sheet with a brief mechanical grinding of teeth. She burned the shreds at the end of each day, never one to take any chances with documents that could potentially be stitched back together. Fenrys stood up to leave, and she waited until he was almost out the door before speaking again. “One more thing, Moon Moon.” 

“Yeah?” He paused, alert, his stance striking an oddly familiar chord in her mind. 

“Farran isn’t dumb enough to put all of his guard dogs in one place.” 

He nodded slowly, working over that little tidbit of information. “Noted. I’ll tell you when he’s ready for you.” With a wink that was far too flirtatious for anyone’s good, Fen left her office. 

Aelin rolled her eyes as she returned to her computer. Her encoded list of targets was shrinking by the week; really, there was only one name left after Rourke Farran received his one-way ticket to her riverside warehouse, and it called to her every day. Some days, it took all of her willpower to stick to her typical Boss hours and Galathynius hours when she knew that if she spent just one more hour as Boss, she could solidify the plans that she’d been simmering for so fucking long. Just before she slit his throat, she’d once murmured to a criminal that she was cleansing the world of villains. In the months since then, that cleansing had nearly been completed. 

She slid her gaze down to the end of the page, following the trail of crimson lines that struck out each name up through Farran’s, and stopped, musing on the last name left. Five letters. One name—the villainous criminal was possibly more elusive than Celaena Sardothien herself. 

Maeve.

On the one hand, it made complete sense that Arobynn’s lover—ex-lover—would have taken over his business, diminished as it was when all of his cronies started fighting over their pieces of the trade after Arobynn died. On the other hand, Aelin had wondered just why the hell Maeve would have wanted to take over Arobynn’s drug- and gun-running business; surely the money couldn’t be the only reason. The more she dug into the grimy, seedy backchannels of truth, though, the more she came to understand why Maeve had done it. 

The woman had been madly in love with Arobynn Hamel, and now she was madly out for blood. 

~

In the prep room of the Gal Inc. labs, Aelin snapped on a fresh pair of sterile blue latex gloves, checked her badge where it was clipped to her lab coat, and nodded at her reflection. It had been seven weeks since Ren had come into the labs to have his SecondSkin changed—she and Nehemia had decided to extend the wearing period to seven weeks, as Ren’s use of SecondSkin was an experiment—and she was curious to see if anything was different. 

“About time,” Nehemia said dryly as Aelin walked into the small, sterile lab, the one that Nehemia typically reserved for experiments that needed to be kept quiet. “I was just about to assume you were in a meeting and start the removal process without you.” 

“Hello to you too, Dr. Ytger,” Aelin returned, just as dryly. “I just had to primp a little longer, you know how much effort it takes to look this good.” 

Nehemia snorted. “Galathynius, if you spent that much time primping, I’d never let you in my lab.” 

“Don’t I know it.” Aelin sat down on the second rolling stool and scooted over to Ren’s side. “Okay, Nemi. It’s your experiment.” 

Quickly but clearly, Nehemia ran through her usual list of removal instructions, then dismissed Ren to go take his shower. He emerged about half an hour later, wearing his robe, his hair damp and his face…

“Aelin, come here.” Nehemia motioned for Ren to sit down and scooted her stool up close so she could examine his ruddy face. “This doesn’t look like a typical hot-shower flush.” 

Aelin scanned the redness on Ren’s face and nodded in agreement. “Allsbrook, does it itch?” 

“Not on my face, no,” he answered. 

“Are you itchy anywhere else?” 

“Yes.” He nodded. “Chest, elbows, upper arms, torso, knees, feet, most of my back, some other areas. It’s not bad, it’s more annoying, like when you have a mosquito bite that you want to scratch.” 

“Would you please remove your robe so we can see if there’s anything visibly wrong with your skin?” Nehemia asked. 

“One sec.” Ren hopped off the chair, went into the shower room, and came back out a moment later. “Just wanted to put my boxers on.” He took off his robe, hung it on the hook in the wall, and sat back down.

“Too much information, Allsbrook,” Aelin grumbled. 

Nehemia ran her analytical gaze over Ren’s body, charting the red rash spread over the areas that he had said were itchy. It looked like an ordinary chafing rash, the skin irritated and slightly split in some places, and some of the redness faded, indicating that it was probably sensitive to the heat of the shower he had taken to remove the SecondSkin. 

“Are you allergic to latex or any of its components?” Nehemia inquired. 

“Not as far as I’m aware, no,” Ren said. 

Nehemia hummed. “Ae, I have thoughts. What do you think?” 

“Prolonged exposure?” Aelin asked. “It almost seems like what happens when you wear the same tightly fitting garment—like a leotard—for an extended period of time and it chafes.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. It could also potentially be compounded by bacteria and dirt buildup under the material. It lays atop the skin, and as much as we want to claim that there’s no gap, we know there has to be a microscopic distance between the material and the wearer’s skin that could allow that to happen.” Nehemia gently touched two gloved fingers to the rash on Ren’s chest. “Does this hurt?” 

“No.” 

She pressed down. “Does it hurt when I do this?” 

He shook his head. “No. Itches, but it doesn’t hurt.” 

“That’s a good sign, at least.” Nehemia sighed. “Okay, Galathynius, we need to talk before we can decide how to move forward.” She beckoned Aelin towards the back of the room. “Should we go ahead with another application?” she asked, her voice lowered to a whisper. 

Aelin pressed her lips together. “Well, we can’t exactly have him disappear while we try and work out the rash.” 

“I don’t want it to spread or get any worse because it wasn’t treated, though,” Nehemia said. “I think we need to at least treat the rash.” 

“Yes, I agree, but how will that work with another application?” Aelin’s brows furrowed. “And how should we treat the rash if we’re not fully certain of what it is and how it works?” 

“We haven’t yet agreed to do another full application,” Nehemia reminded her, “and my instinct is saying to treat it like it’s a normal chafing rash—hydrocortisone cream, Benadryl, that kind of thing.” 

Aelin nodded. “Okay, that sounds fine. How do you think we should apply the SecondSkin?” 

“Hmm.” Nehemia tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “We could selectively apply it and avoid the rash areas. Theoretically, he’s not going to be stripping down in front of anyone for any reason, so he really only needs to have the right fingerprints and face, maybe footprints too. I vote we just apply the SecondSkin to his hands, face and neck, and feet.” 

“I think we should apply it from hands up to elbows, just to be safe, but that sounds like a solid plan. Do we have hydrocortisone cream here?” 

“Should be in the first aid bin.” Nehemia returned to Ren’s chair. “Okay, Allsbrook, here’s how we’re going to proceed. We’ll treat your rash and reapply the synthetic to your hands and lower arms, face and neck, and feet, which should hopefully give the rash time and breathing room to heal. You should apply this cream every day, as often as necessary, to the parts that are most itchy or inflamed.” She took the tube of hydrocortisone cream that Aelin handed her and applied it to Ren’s rash. 

“Is this something I can find at the pharmacy?” he asked. 

“Yes, it’s a common treatment,” Aelin replied. She walked over to the safe built into the far wall, keyed in the combination, opened the compartment, and retrieved a sleek steel canister from inside. She closed the compartment back up and brought the canister over to the prep table next to where Ren sat. 

Nehemia took off her used gloves and replaced them with a fresh pair. “Ready?” 

“Ready,” Ren confirmed. 

Working in tandem, Aelin and Nehemia carefully laid the almost-invisible film of SecondSkin over Ren’s hands, forearms, face, and feet, carefully molding it to his skin. The pieces had all been prepped beforehand, since it took a significant amount of time to press fingerprints and other distinctive blemishes and markings into the synthetic material, and the SecondSkin molded to Ren’s skin flawlessly, leaving almost no evidence that it was there. 

“Come back in two weeks,” Aelin instructed him as she disposed of her gloves. “We’ll want to see if your rash has improved, which will help us decide how to move forward.” 

“Got it.” Ren went back into the bathroom, got dressed, and came back out as Chaol Westfall, contact lenses placed and bland grin on his face. “See you in two weeks, Dr. Ytger, Galathynius.” He left the lab. 

“We should have seen this coming,” Nehemia groaned when Ren was gone, chucking her gloves into the trash bin. “Honestly, Ae, I feel like such an idiot.” 

“Nemi, you are a genius,” Aelin reassured her. “You’ve been so busy with development and research, and we didn’t even know this could happen until we saw it today.” 

“Yeah.” The chief engineer sighed. “I need to go chart all of this, and you probably have meetings or whatever shit you do in your big fancy office.” She smirked at Aelin.

Aelin rolled her eyes, nudging her friend in the shoulder. “I’d say something smartass, but I do have a meeting pretty soon. Let me know if anything comes up with Allsbrook, yeah?” 

“Of course.” Nehemia waved and turned down a side hallway towards her office. Aelin headed back to the prep room, put her lab coat in the laundry basket, and collected her things before heading to her office and the inevitable day of meetings. 

Two weeks later, Ren came back to the labs, his rash significantly improved. Nehemia removed and reapplied the SecondSkin in the same few areas and instructed him to keep treating the rash, as she didn’t want to move forward with full SecondSkin application until it had completely healed. 

“It’s a good sign that the rash is healing,” she told Aelin over the phone later that day. “In theory, that means the SecondSkin could cause a rash from chafing, irritation, or prolonged use, but the rash can be treated like normal.” 

“Definitely a good sign.” Aelin jotted down that note. “Hopefully, that means SecondSkin can be used for the wide audience we’ve been intending all along.”

“How much longer do you think this is going to be in development and testing?” Nehemia asked. “It’s been over two years, Ae. Shouldn’t this be about the time where we start to consider trial groups?” 

“I’d say yes, but we’ve only just learned about the rash, and we’re not yet sure if the current formula won’t cause that rash.” Aelin was partially thinking out loud. “My gut says to wait until the Ren trial isn’t getting a rash, and then move into trial groups.” Which will give me more time to get rid of Maeve before she can make a move for the SecondSkin tech like Arobynn did, she added silently. 

She was the only person who knew why Arobynn Hamel had died when he did—the former crime lord had taken one step too close to her highly guarded technology, and she’d had no choice but to retaliate. It was…not unexpected that Maeve would try to do the same. 

~

Fenrys Moonbeam might very well be insane. 

People had told him that frequently, ever since he was a reckless kid jumping off the playground structures at school, but he’d never had the thought himself until he was strolling into the Night Owl—a popular nightclub that was rumored to be the primary front of Maeve’s organization—in tight leather pants, a silver sequined jacket, and no shirt. Because rumor also had it that Maeve, the so-called Queen of the Night, had a…taste for handsome men, and he had it on good information that Rourke Farran was a frequent guest at the Night Owl. 

He sauntered up to the bouncer with a lazy, easy grin sprawled across his face. “Hey.” 

The bouncer, who could accurately be depicted as a concrete brick, stared flatly at him. “Invitation only, fancy boy.” 

“I’m with Cadre,” Fen returned, sliding his hand into his jacket to retrieve a beautiful ivory card with purple script embossed across its fine surface. He waved the card at the bouncer. “And they’re expecting me in ten minutes, so it would be great if you’d let me get my pretty ass through the door.” 

“Fuckin’ performers,” the bouncer muttered as he swung open the door. 

“Thank you,” Fen crooned, blowing a kiss at the stone-faced man. The door slammed behind him, and he tucked the invitation—expertly forged by Celaena’s man Nox—back into his jacket and slipped into the crowd of dancing bodies. He winked and smirked his way through the crowd, letting the thumping beat of the music ease his rhythm, until he reached the bar. 

Sure enough, Rourke Farran lounged on a barstool near the far end, one hand around a bottle of beer and the other around the waist of a blonde woman whose lipstick was littered all over his neck. 

Fenrys muffled the snort he wanted to let out and waved over the bartender. “I’ll take a Sex on the Beach,” he purred, giving the guy, who was probably in his early twenties, a wink. 

The bartender’s blush was faintly visible in the flashing strobe lights. “Want that extra strong?” His gaze flicked ever so quickly to Fen’s bare chest. 

“Give it to me as-is, and then we’ll see.” Fen lowered his eyes to half-mast and watched the bartender make his drink. The other man threw the drink together effortlessly, sliding it across the bartop to Fenrys with a little smile of his own. 

“I get off shift in an hour,” he said softly, dark blue eyes alight with hope and a little hesitancy. 

“Good to know.” Fen took a long sip of his cocktail and nodded appreciatively. “Delicious.” In his periphery, he noticed Farran push the blonde out of his lap and stand up, swaying a little, and turn towards the dancefloor. 

He brushed past Fen on his way over. “Get a fuckin’ room,” he slurred, his glassy-eyed gaze flicking once over Fen’s glittering jacket and tight pants. “Goddamn fancy boy.” 

“I’ll be back.” Fen drained the rest of his drink, tossed a twenty on the bar, and rose, following Farran into the sea of dancing bodies. He kept a discreet distance from the man, far enough away to not be noticed but close enough to watch the man’s moves. 

As he had suspected, Farran oozed sleaziness. What he was doing on the dancefloor barely passed for dancing; his gyrating hips and roaming hands were just barely short of outright having sex in public. He moved from girl to girl, changing partners as often as the music changed, leaving a good number of people giving him dirty looks for being too handsy. Fen snorted, knowing that the man probably deserved their scorn. Farran began to move towards the doors, and Fen slipped onto the dancefloor himself, moving fluidly through the crowd, keeping a constant eye on Farran’s steady, subtle escape route. 

Time to move, Moonbeam. 

Feeling a twinge of guilt for not staying to meet the cute bartender, Fenrys watched Farran leave the club and waited exactly a minute and a half before he headed out as well, putting enough unsteadiness in his step to indicate intoxication. Once he was out of the club, he glanced down the street in both directions and then went left. Even if he couldn’t track Farran, he knew where the bastard lived. 

After a quick pit stop in an alley to swap out his flashy jacket for a closely fitted black knit turtleneck, Fenrys headed into the tidy grid of streets that made up western Orynth, taking a meandering route towards the tidy, wealthy neighborhood where Rourke Farran lived. The neighborhood was decked out with security cameras, as Celaena had warned him, so he looped around through the expansive back yards, slinking easily through the landscaped trees and plants until he came to the fence that marked the edge of Farran’s property. There weren’t cameras along the back fence, primarily because of the rotating patrol of guard dogs and security guards, so Fen swiftly scaled the fence and hopped into a tree. 

He waited for the first round of patrols to pass before he carefully reached into the thigh pocket of his pants, withdrew a slim, vacuum-sealed package of meat, quietly cut open the plastic, and tossed the meat in a gentle arc directly onto the grass beside the paved walkway that wove around Farran’s house. A pair of guard dogs came barreling around the corner within sixty seconds, barking and growling and quickly discovering the meat. The second and third patrols weren’t far behind, and it was only a few minutes before all eight guard dogs were tearing apart the meat. 

“The fuck is happening?” A security guard rounded the corner, breathless from sprinting. He saw the dogs calming down and settling back into their patrols after having finished the meat. “God. Which idiot dropped snacks everywhere?” 

Another guard sprinted around the corner. “Everything okay?” 

“One of you jackasses dropped the dogs’ snacks,” the first guard snapped. 

The second one raised his hands in innocence. “I’m not the snack keeper tonight, dude.” 

“Whatever. Just get your ass back to rounds.” The guards nudged the dogs back onto the path and headed away. 

Mentally, Fenrys started counting minutes. He got to four, then five, then slowly and carefully slid down from the tree and darted across the lawn and onto the shadowed back porch. A moment later, he’d scaled the drainpipe leading up the side of the house and was perched on the balcony directly outside the master bedroom. 

Wherein Rourke Farran was fully naked in front of his mirror, with his—

“Fucking hell,” Fen groaned to himself, shaking his head. “Disgusting.” But also enough of a distraction for him to slip down onto the balcony, pull a slender silver tube from his sleeve, raise it to his lips, and blow a tiny needle dart straight into the back of Farran’s neck. 

Farran crumpled to the floor. 

Good work, Moonbeam, Fenrys complimented himself. Now you just have to get the asshole out of his booby-trap house and over to the river warehouse.

Easy. 

Right?

~

“He’s all yours, Boss,” Fenrys drawled as Aelin strolled past on the way out of the storage warehouse. 

She glanced at her smart watch. “It’s only the eleventh, Moon Moon. That was quick.” 

He shrugged, irreverent as always. “What can I say? I like to work fast.” 

“Hopefully not all the time.” She smirked wickedly. “Your bartender boyfriend might be disappointed.”

Fenrys flushed a delightful shade of pink. “How the fuck—”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered, Moon Moon.” She winked wickedly at him. “How’s our special guest doing? Is he adjusted to his new home?” 

“It took him some time to get used to the room,” Fen returned, casually pulling a set of brass knuckles from a pocket of his cargo pants and spinning them over his fist. 

Aelin chuckled, soft and lethal. “Not surprising. Thanks, Fen.” She paused just in front of the side door, her gloved knuckles resting on the doorknob. “Oh, Moon Moon?” 

“Yeah?” He froze, his posture still as a…soldier’s. 

“I’ll need you for cleanup on the twenty-seventh.” 

He nodded. “Got it, Boss.” 

Aelin keyed in the door code and left the warehouse, satisfied that she had set the wheels of her plan in motion. While she trusted Con’s assessment of his brother, she wasn’t fully convinced that she could completely trust anyone on her payroll, and Fen’s easy charm masked a cold, heartless willingness to carry out whatever depraved task she demanded of him. Furthermore, that stance of his—the utter stillness of his posture when someone ordered him to stop—had been pricking at her memory for days, and she’d only just realized why. 

Fenrys stood like a soldier. More than that—he stood like one of her uncle’s men, one of the Terrasen Special Forces. 

And Aelin knew the day one of Gav’s men got into Celaena Sardothien’s business would be the day her double identity began to crumble. Even if she wanted to trust Fenrys, she had to confirm for herself that she could, and that meant giving him a fake kill date in case he needed to report back to someone in the military. 

If he did, if he turned out to be a spy, then the TSF would come sniffing around for Rourke Farran when it was already weeks too late. 

~

Aelin laced her fingers with Rowan’s as they strolled through the fancy restaurant’s glass front doors, something settling deep in her chest at the simple, casual intimacy of holding his hand. Her mind had been running in overdrive for the last two weeks, and even now, with ten days left in the month, she hadn’t been able to slow the constant dizzying whirl of her thoughts. 

Rowan was one of the only people who’d brought her a glimpse of peace recently, in the few scattered dates they’d been able to snatch between both of their busy schedules. He flicked her a tiny, secret smile, one that only she ever saw, before approaching the hostess stand with the same confidence that cloaked him when he was in his investigator clothes and badge. And dear god, the things that confidence did to her already throbbing pussy—she was half tempted to slip off her panties and sneak them to him under the table. 

But she was a mature woman, so she wouldn’t. 

“Whitethorn, party of two, seven-thirty reservation,” Rowan said to the hostess. 

The young woman—probably a college student, if Aelin’s guess was correct—tapped a few things into her tablet. “Your table is ready, Mr. Whitethorn. Please, this way.” She led Rowan and Aelin through the low-lit restaurant towards the far wall of windows. Through the glass was a breathtaking view of Orynth, the city cast in shades of bronze as the sun began to drift downwards. 

“Gorgeous,” Aelin murmured, captivated by the view. 

Rowan’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand. “Not half as much as you.” 

She blushed. “You’re quite the flirt, you—oh!” Unexpectedly, a man’s shoulder brushed hers as they wove through the restaurant floor. She looked up to find none other than Police Captain Chaol Westfall, wearing a nice suit and a mildly shocked expression. 

“M–Miss Galathynius,” he finally managed, clearing his throat. “And, ah, Lieutenant Whitethorn. I…I apologize for running into you.” 

“Westfall, what are you doing here?” Rowan inquired, polite on the surface but with narrowed, suspicious eyes. 

“Considering we aren’t at work, it’s none of your business, White-horn, but I was at dinner with a friend of mine,” Chaol shot back. There was definite animosity underlying his words. 

Rowan raised a brow. “You…have friends?” 

“Ah, lighten up, darling,” Aelin interjected before either man could resort to fists. “We don’t all live at our workplace, as we seem to have discovered. And Ro, darling, we’ve left that poor hostess floundering.” She wrapped her hand around his arm and tugged him towards their table. 

He shot Chaol one last suspicious look. Chaol returned the look, but broke the stare-off to nod respectfully at Aelin as she passed. “Ms. Galathynius.” 

When they reached their table, Rowan pulled out Aelin’s chair before seating himself across from her. Questions brewed in the shifting of his eyes. “Question, Ae—do you know Westfall? How?” 

“That was two questions,” she teased. “Yes, I’ve met Captain Westfall before. It’s all part of the business; I’ve met just about every notable figure in Orynth at some function or another. I probably met the police captain at some kind of gala.” 

Rowan nodded slowly, digesting the information. “That makes sense. All those faces probably run together after long enough, yeah?” 

“I try to keep them separate, but yeah.” She flashed him a sheepish grin. “There’s only so many names and faces you can memorize before they all start to appear the same.” 

“Why, Miss Galathynius,” Rowan drawled, his face alight with mischief, “are you implying that there are too many men in suits in this fine city?” 

She shrugged, meeting the gleam of his humor with her own dry wit. “I’m simply observing that if a few less of them were to bother me at every function I attend, my mind would be clearer.” 

“I thought you had a mind like a steel trap, love.” Raising a brow, he sipped his water. 

“It sometimes takes a moment to pull out a name from the file cabinet,” she returned. “And—oh look, here comes our server.” Their server, a sandy-blonde-haired man in his late twenties wearing the restaurant staff’s uniform of white shirt, black trousers, and maroon tie, wore a pleasant (if tired) smile as he pulled his notepad from his apron pocket. 

“Good evening,” he said cheerfully. “My name is James, and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear about our specials this evening?” 

Aelin glanced at Rowan, whose eyes had visibly narrowed as he scanned the server. The look was so blatantly male, she almost rolled her eyes, but her possessive buzzard relaxed when he saw the silver wedding band adorning the server’s left ring finger. “I actually think we’re ready to order, if that’s alright?” 

James the server just about melted to the floor in relief. “Are you serious?” he asked, lowering his voice to an incredulous whisper. “I—I haven’t had a single easy table tonight, and it’s the last two hours of a double and—I’m so sorry, that was completely unprofessional of me.” 

Aelin chuckled. “Don’t worry, James, was it? Customer service is a rough job.” 

“Tell me about it,” the man grumbled. 

Rowan shot Aelin a confused look. “Ae, love, I haven’t even looked at the menu.” 

“Do you trust me, love?” she asked. 

He pursed his lips, not quite used to letting someone else order his food. “All right.” 

“Perfect.” She blew him a subtle kiss. “Okay, James, is it alright if I give you our order a few steps away?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, keeping it still loud enough for Rowan to hear. “I want to surprise my boyfriend; I’ve been here more than once but he hasn’t ever been.” 

“Of course.” James smiled, a genuine one this time. “I brought my wife here once when we were dating—took half my paycheck, but it was worth it.” He stepped aside a few paces and Aelin followed, quietly giving her and Rowan’s order. The server’s pen flew over his page. 

“And say hi to Chef Emrys for me, would you?” she concluded. 

“You…you know the head chef?” 

“Bit of a long story, but yes. Tell him Aelin Galathynius says hi, please. Thanks!” She came back to the table and slipped into her seat, leaving the very nice but very shocked server to collect his wits after realizing just who he was talking to and go to place the order. 

“Poor guy looks like he just got hit by a truck,” Rowan observed, smothering a laugh.

Aelin smirked. “I may or may not have given him my full name.” 

“Ah, the name drop.” He nodded sagely. “Just what every famous CEO has to do to the poor server who got their table.” 

“You’ve got quite a mouth for a soldier, you know,” Aelin mused, her words slowing to a near- seductive pace. “A respectable man would never insinuate that his date uses her job title for perks.” 

“I never said I was respectable.” Lazily, his gaze roamed down her upper body, admiring the way her little black dress scooped beneath her collarbones, accentuating the gleam of the single small teardrop diamond pendant that nestled in the hollow of her throat. 

James came by with two glasses of white wine and an appetizer platter with two sharing plates, breaking the dangerous haze of the moment, and Aelin thanked the server as he headed off, no doubt to take care of his other tables. 

Rowan’s jaw slacked just a bit at the sight of the cured meat and prawns arranged on the plate. “Please tell me you didn’t order the most expensive things on the menu, Ae.” 

“Of course not.” She reached across the table and linked her hands with his, the gesture as natural as breathing. “I got us an appetizer to share, a first course, a meat course, and a dessert, and I’m not the kind of person who orders expensive items just to flash her money around.” 

He breathed out a deep, controlled exhale. “I know, love. It’s just…” His thumb rubbed across her knuckles. “I’m not used to any of this—the fancy restaurants, the fancy food, the way people don’t bat an eye at spending thirty dollars for some toast.” 

She cracked a grin at that. “Let me introduce you to the fine, fine work of Chef Emrys, then. I actually used to work for him, way back when I was eighteen and my parents decided I needed to experience real-people jobs.” 

“Way back when,” he drawled, teasing her. 

“Hush, old man,” she teased right back, plating up a sampling of the appetizer plate and sliding it over to him. “I know I’m only twenty-seven, but my stint as a hostess feels like forever ago.” 

“Kind of like how basic training feels like forever ago for me.” Rowan agreed. He bit into one of the cured prawns and nearly moaned, his eyes closing in joy. “God, this is incredible.” 

She beamed. “Wait until you taste Chef Emrys’s filet mignon, Ro.” 

The conversation flowed freely between them after that, only interrupted by the arrival of new food and wine. A mushroom and herb risotto accompanied by an aged Riesling. The promised filet mignon, which almost made Rowan cry with joy, and a spectacular six-year Merlot. And finally, individual blackberry cobblers, the berries ripe and fresh and perfectly sweet-tart, paired with the restaurant’s signature Cabernet. 

“I don’t think I can move,” Rowan sighed as he set down his last empty wineglass. “But it was absolutely worth every bite.” 

“I think I’m going to dream of this cobbler,” Aelin added, regretfully nudging her empty dish towards the end of the table. “Tell me when you’re ready to leave, yes?” 

“Gonna need three to five business days,” he mumbled. 

Her laughter rippled across their low-lit table. “I love when you let that humor of yours loose.” 

A different kind of hunger flickered in his forest eyes. “And I love when I have you all to myself.” 

“Possessive much?” 

He just shrugged. “Call me whatever you want, love, but we both know you only come for me.” 

Flames flickered through her blood at the deep, sinful timbre of his voice. “That’s only because I haven’t introduced you to my drawer full of battery-powered boyfriends.” 

The banked embers simmering in his expression flared into a bonfire, and he sat upright and beckoned their server over. “Suddenly, I’m ready to go home.” 

James was at their table within two minutes. “How was everything for you tonight? Can I get you anything else?” 

“It was absolutely mind-blowing, as always,” Aelin said. “And no, I think we’ll just take the check.” Covertly, she slipped James her credit card, and he gave her a small nod as he went over to the server computer to process the payment. 

“Don’t think I didn’t hear you,” Rowan murmured, the velvet caress of his voice stroking down her spine. “Mind-blowing, Ae?” 

“Would you happen to know anything about that?” she asked, innocently. 

In response, he trailed a brazen stare down her figure. “Seems like you need a refresher.” He stood up far too smoothly for someone who had just finished his fourth glass of wine, gave her his hand for stability as she rose, and then rested that hand against the small of her back, his touch burning through her dress. 

Their server returned with a check folder in his hand and passed it over to Aelin, who glanced over the receipts, signed her name, and tucked her credit card and her copy of the receipt back into her small handbag. “Thanks, James.” 

“Ah, thank you, Ms. Galathynius, Mr. Whitethorn. You might have been the best table I’ve had all day.” He tucked the folder into his apron pocket with a wry grin. “Have a good one!” 

“If it’s good, it won’t be just one,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear. 

A shiver danced down her neck. “Is that a promise, Lieutenant?” 

He held the door open for her as they left the restaurant. “Ask me again when you’re begging for my cock, love.” 

~

Ren Allsbrook, alias Chaol Westfall, was expecting Whitethorn’s visit, but the man’s presence in his office still gave him an oddly unsettled feeling. 

He pasted a bland, blasé expression onto his face. “Yes, Whitethorn?” 

Rowan dropped into the chair opposite Ren’s, regarding him with a piercing look that almost seemed to pierce beneath the layer of SecondSkin cloaking his true identity. “How the hell do you know Aelin, Westfall?” 

Ren shrugged. “We met at some city leader event a while back. Some big thing the mayor hosted so the big names of Orynth could pretend to be civil to each other.” 

“Yeah? How long ago was that?” 

Fucking think, Allsbrook. Chaol Westfall had been the police captain for about three years, Ren had taken over as Chaol six months ago in January, and the mayor’s Leaders Gala was always held in…the fall…“Last October, I believe. You’ll have to give me a little grace on the estimate, since I was damn busy with actual work.” 

“Cute of you to think you can get away with sneering at me from your soapbox, Westfall,” Whitethorn said dryly. “Well, I checked the dates, and the mayor always holds his little party in October, so I’ll buy your story.” 

“My story, huh? When did you get so desperate for leads that you started accusing coworkers, Whitethorn?” 

“Shut up,” Rowan grunted. “I’m just making sure you haven’t been doing anything shady with my girlfriend, jackass.” 

“Ooooooh, we’re using official terms now?” Ren couldn’t resist the urge to press Whitethorn’s buttons. “I thought you were allergic to that kind of commitment.” 

“I wouldn’t get smart-mouthed with me, Westfailure,” Rowan grumbled. “I’ve seen you going to the Galathynius labs. What the hell are you doing there?” 

Ren muffled a rather creative string of curses. “Whitethorn, I know you’re terse, but what the hell was that subject change? Give me some goddamn context, for shit’s sake.” 

“Fine.” Rowan pulled up some security camera footage on his tablet. “This is a record of the feed from the Galathynius, Inc. lab complex’s security cameras, and before you open your mouth, I have clearance. Two and a half weeks ago, on June 4th, you went to the labs. You went again yesterday.” He tapped on the video, and the footage played, clearly showing Chaol walk into the labs and walk back out after a period of fast-forwarding through nothing. 

“Well.” Think, you fucking idiot! “Since we are currently quietly investigating a connection between Galathynius, Incorporated, and the, uh, Shadow Killer—”

“Shadow Assassin,” Rowan corrected. 

“Whatever. That person. You think there’s a connection, and I’m pursuing it. I happen to know a scientist who works in the Galathynius labs, and I set up a couple of meetings to speak with her.” Ren folded his arms across his chest. Buy the story, Whitethorn. 

Whitethorn frowned. “Why didn’t I hear about these meetings?” 

“Because I was being discreet, duh.” Ren poured a heavy dose of sarcasm into the last word.

Rowan grumbled something that sounded like a string of cussing. “I didn’t get sent to this investigation for the laugh track, Westfall.” He stood up and left the office, carelessly banging the door shut behind him. 

“Jackass,” Ren grumbled. He turned back to the endless slog of paperwork and files he had to get through, because the job of police captain came with a lifetime supply of that shit. Against all beliefs, he’d actually come to enjoy this job, this role, and he was just as invested in the case as Whitethorn was. 

He just happened to be on a different side. 

~

This is fucking insane, this is fucking insane, this is fucking insane. Those were the words running through Fenrys’s head as he and his twin strolled down the secret back stars of the Night Owl. He was barely able to focus on the opulence of the hallway—plush velvet lining the walls, fine mahogany banisters, and black wall torches and overhead lights giving the whole space a deep purple glow—when his mind was so focused on what lay at the end of the walk. 

“Relax,” Con muttered. “Don’t get us fucking killed before we’ve found out what she wants.”

“I’m trying,” Fen grumbled. He straightened the lapels of his jacket, the same sequined one he’d worn to the Night Owl three weeks ago. “But—”

“But nothing.” Con cut him off. “Remember why we’re here.” 

“Right.” Because Celaena had trusted the two of them with infiltrating Maeve’s lair. Because they were the key to taking down the last obstacle in Boss Sardothien’s path, whatever the hell it was. 

The masked guard in front of the twins stopped at a dark wooden door at the end of the hall. “Wait here,” he said, expressionless. He went into the room, closed the door behind him, and came out a few minutes later just as expressionless. “Maeve will see you now.” And he opened the door. 

Fenrys took a quick, deep breath and strolled into the dark-paneled office, Con at his side, both of their gazes immediately locking onto the woman who sat behind the imposing black marble desk at the far end of the room. Her face was pale, nearly opalescent in the darkness, her lips were stained scarlet, and her unnervingly violet gaze was fixed on the twins. 

“Thank you for being willing to meet on such short notice, boys,” Maeve said, her calm, cold voice slicing through the room like a blade. 

“Our honor,” Fen replied. Maeve gestured at the pair of leather chairs opposite her desk, and the twins sat down. 

She steepled her fingers under her chin. “I have a job for you.” 

Con shared a loaded look with Fen. “Both of us, or just one?” 

“Both of you. I need one of you for each side of the job.” 

Slowly, Fen nodded. “Alright. What can we do for you?” 

One corner of Maeve’s scarlet lips curled upwards. She retrieved a thin manila file from her desk and slid it across the desktop. “Fenrys, kill this man.” The order was as clearly and casually enunciated as if she was asking for a glass of water. “Connall, you will stay here to monitor Fenrys’s task.” 

Beside Fenrys, Con’s posture stiffened. “How?” 

“We have an advanced tech space that will provide all the equipment you need, as well as the chance to experiment with some of the devices we’re working on.” A gleam flickered briefly through the Queen of the Night’s unflinching stare. “And I require company.” 

“Alright.” Con dipped his head in acquiescence, flatly refusing to meet the sharp, concerned gaze Fen shot towards him. 

“Excellent.” Maeve smiled, and it sent a shiver down Fenrys’s spine. “You may go, Fenrys. I expect it won’t take you too long to get the job done.” 

“I pride myself on efficiency,” he smirked, masking the oily chill in his blood with a lazy, half-wild grin. He rose, nodded at Maeve, and strolled out of the room and then out of the club, his steps sure and unfaltering until he was around the corner and out of sight. 

Then, he ducked into a side alley and slumped against the wall, his veneer of easy confidence dropping to reveal his hidden terror. Fuck! He’d left his brother in that spider’s lair; gods only knew what could happen if either of them failed to do what Maeve commanded. Hands shaking, Fenrys reached into the hidden inner pockets of his jacket, his fingers closing around the comfortingly cold steel of his favorite twin flat knives and the envelope containing the thick piece of cardstock that had been in the file. The least he could do—for himself, for Connall, and for the man he had to kill—was carry out his task quickly, before the Queen of the Night could hurt his brother.

And so, heart heavy, Fenrys Moonbeam adjusted his jacket and the weapons contained within it and began his prowl towards Orynth Police headquarters.

~

Rowan arrived at Orynth PD unusually early on the morning of June 30. After a restless night—he’d tossed and turned far into the wee hours of the morning, snatched probably three solid hours of sleep, and had a muddled collection of dream snippets—he’d just decided to bite the bullet and drag his ass out of bed at five in the morning. Shortly before six, he keyed in his code at the door of the police station, let himself into the quiet, chilly building, and dragged himself to the locker room to dump his bag and splash some icy water on his face. With his vest strapped on and his badge around his arm, he grabbed his laptop bag and trudged up the stairs to the offices, ducking into his office to drop off his things and try to form a to-do list. 

Fuck, he needed caffeine. He needed it badly enough that he’d even drink the bitter shit from the common-room carafe. So he pushed his chair in, left his office, and went down to the bullpen, following the faint scent of the first batch of coffee. Operating on autopilot, he was halfway to the break room before he smelled it. 

Blood. 

That coppery tang was unmistakable. 

Fuck. 

Coffee forgotten, Rowan whirled around and strode back to the bullpen, following his nose like some kind of hound. A bloodhound, whispered the traitorous part of his mind that sounded an awful lot like Aelin’s witty laugh. In any other context, he might have laughed along. But not this time. Head down, he tracked the metallic stench of blood across the bullpen, its tang growing heavier with each successive step he took. The blood, wherever it was, was still fresh enough to be that strong, but old enough to have spread its scent through a significant part of the floor. Both of those things worried him. A lot. 

Hand straying to his holster, Rowan rounded the corner towards the cluster of desks where the detectives and Westfall worked whenever Westfall was in the bullpen. He inhaled, catching a lungful of blood-scent, so strong it nearly knocked him back. That part of the floor was still shadowed in the early-morning dimness, so he flicked on the nearest light for a better visual. 

The flashlight in his hand clattered to the floor. His other hand clenched around the cold, smooth handle of his gun. 

He’d found the source of the blood stench. 

He blinked. Shook his head. He snapped his jaw shut, swore at himself a few times, imagined Gav yelling at him for losing his mind like a goddamn fucking green idiot, and took one step forwards. 

He froze. 

Sprawled facedown in a pool of his own blood, the back of his skull concave as if bashed in with a heavy, blunt object, with a bullet hole ripped through his temple and knives pinning his now-limp hands to the desk, was Chaol Westfall. 

Rowan locked up the side of himself that immediately started screaming questions and approached Chaol’s…corpse…carefully, forcing the investigative side of himself to take the lead. He cautiously nudged Westfall with his baton, noting the lack of response. With that amount of blood loss, he’d be more shocked if the man was alive, but he still had to go through the steps. As much as he could, Rowan circled the body, clocking each new wound he found on the man’s body. It was…more brutal than he had initially noticed, slashes and cuts scattered over the body, as well as the knives stabbed through the hands and the obvious point-blank range of the bullet, marked by its entry and exit wounds. 

As he came to the other side, Rowan stopped once again, because there was a goddamned note tacked to Westfall’s forehead. No—nailed to his forehead. 

Fuck.

He pulled on the pair of latex gloves he kept tucked into his belt and gingerly reached for the note, lifting it up enough to read it. He didn’t remove it; he was too experienced to fuck with a crime scene like that. He did, however, lift up the paper, which was surprisingly thick and high-quality for a fucking assassin signoff. Three words were printed onto the note in dark ink. He tilted the paper slightly, and the black ink shimmered with a dark purple sheen, indicative both of its quality and probably of the signature colors of whoever the hell had written the message. 

Tread carefully, Lieutenant. 

There was no signature. There was, however, a symbol stamped beneath the short, threatening message. Rowan peered at the stamp, sharp gaze scanning it until the shape came into focus. It was an almost photographic image of an owl, the bird posed in eerie stillness, its inked eyes large and unblinking. And atop the owl’s head sat a crown, a perfect arc of five jeweled spikes. 

It was the mark of the Queen of the Night.

~~~

TAGS: please let me know if you want to be added/removed :)

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

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#my writing #until proven guilty #criminal/investigator au #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass au #throne of glass fanfiction #tw: big bad villain hehe #tw: violence #tw: fighting #tw: blood #tw: minor character death

[starrystevie]

steve’s angry. he’s so goddamn angry all the time. his town is split right down the middle, his parents up and left to whatever safety vermont could offer and his kid won’t smile anymore because he’s seen too much and lost even more. this whole upside down bullshit just takes and takes and takes until there’s nothing left of hawkins, nothing left of steve himself. so he fights and takes his aggression out on people that don’t matter, on brick walls that have no say, on pillows and windows and cheeks he’s never seen before.

he thinks he’s seeing things, hearing things, when there’s whispers of his name in the darkness of an alleyway or bandages placed just so on his countertop when he gets home. it’s always after a fight that he feels whatever is following him, so he’s able to make himself believe it’s just from one too many blows to the head. he’s going crazy, he’s sure of it, when he thinks he sees eddie munson lurking outside his home as he limps up to his door and leaves a bloody handprint on the house siding. 

so yeah, he’s angry. but when his knuckles are cracked and his muscles are screaming and there’s blood running down the side of his face and his eyes are swelling shut, he feels alive in a way that he thought was stolen from him. 

but then there’s eyes looking at him. steve’s in his bathroom, too much blood staining his mom’s left behind fluffy white bath towels in a rusty brown, bandages wrapped tightly around the deep cuts on his forearm when he notices it. he gets those chills on the back of his neck and fights the urge to think maybe he’s cursed like will before turning to look around his always empty house. the air is still and he almost convinces himself that he’s imagining things like usual but then he spots the eyes looking in through his window. 

steve knows those eyes. they’re hidden behind curls and in the darkness that night provides and they’re burning a bright red but he knows them none the less. he doesn’t think about, knows he probably should but doesn’t, and heads over to the window. it’s easy enough to unlock normally but steve can’t pull his eyes away from the ones looking right back at him so he fumbles with the lock until it clicks. 

the next thing he knows, the sticky june air is seeping in through the open window and he’s laying flat on his back with strong arms and wild red eyes pinning him to his bedroom floor. eddie’s mouth is wide, eyes even wider, long teeth glinting in the glow of the lamp on steve’s nightstand. 

“you’re here,” he breathes out causing the curls tickling steve’s cheeks to flutter. “how are you here? why now?”

eddie growls and it’s a sound steve would have never expected but knows he’ll never forget, locking it in a safe place in his memory to replay over and over. there’s a hand trailing down the side of his face, cold fingers running over the drips of blood from a cut in his forehead, red eyes following their path. 

“i could smell you.” his voice is low, it rumbles through his chest and straight into steve’s veins. maybe he could smell the effect of that on him, too. “you got too hurt this time.”

it breaks steve. he laughs harder than he has in months and it’s this harsh, broken thing that’s a mockery of real laughter. he feels like a demon, cackling in the face of danger just to cause pain and fear. maybe he is a demon at this point. 

‘that’s all it took?” he’s angry again, but this is a different anger. it’s mean and cruel, spreading down through his bones into his very being, and it’s cold. has steve shivering on his bedroom floor but that could also be from the hand still petting over his face. has him smiling with a busted lip that forces warm blood to seep into his mouth.

eddie sighs. it’s a head rush to see a creature such as him do such a human thing. “you can’t keep hurting yourself just to see me, steve. it’ll end-” he pauses like he’s trying to think of the best word to use, eyes focused on the red spilling over his own fingertips, over steve’s lips. “-badly.”

steve feels himself push up into eddie, revels in the intake of breath he gets in return. he can feel the blood from his cracked lip staining his teeth so he opens his mouth, licks it off slowly to make a show of it. his smile feels wild and he wants to push that onto eddie too. he feels alive. 

“good.”

#hi i have literally no excuse for this #but this is probably going to become a whole fic btw #cause BOY do i have a lot of thoughts about it #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrignton #eddie munson #tw: fighting #tw: blood #this is technically my first dabble into monster fucker steve harrington which is a v fun topic #steddie drabble #my writing #stranger things #steddie ficlet #kas!eddie

[butraura]

Seven-Sentence Sunday

tagged by no one because no one asked for this akskjsjfh

 Every hair on the back of his neck stands at attention, his blood running cold. For the first time, Buck is afraid of Eddie.

 He quickly scrambles to his feet, backing up enough to create distance between the two of them, but not enough to run into anyone standing at the perimeter of the circle. “Eds,” he murmurs carefully, hands up at surrender as if dealing with live ammunition. 

 Calling him by his nickname was, perhaps, the wrong move.

 Eddie is up and lunges for Buck in what feels like a nanosecond. He grabs the fabric of his t-shirt and spins the two of them on their heels, throwing him up against a stack of tires. Buck ricochets off the rubber and stumbles forward. The cheers that were being yelled when Buck arrived have since gone mute. It’s so quiet now, Buck can hear how labored his breathing sounds. He regains his balance after only a moment, then attempts to stand straight, wilfully ignoring the pain searing in his back.

 “I’m not going anywhere, Eddie,” he promises. “I know I fucked up. But I can’t undo it, no matter how much I want to.”

 “Shut up,” the man spits, the first words he’s uttered since Buck arrived. It’s low and menacing.

 “Eddie, I-” Buck tries.

 “No.”

------

Tags: @watchyourbuck (I won't tag anyone else unless you ask lol shajhskdhf I want to be respectful)

This is a new WIP for a divorce-era fic; set to be either one long chapter or 2 shorter ones (I'm undecided). Also, this is my first post like this so idk, enjoy!

#buddie #911 #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #divorce era #lawsuit era #wip #fic wip #not posted yet #seven sentence sunday #TW: fighting

[80stacos]

Hero

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

—warnings: descriptions of making out, fighting, a bit of harassment

—A/N: I don’t usually do x readers so sorry if this is shit lmao.

Y/N’s POV

It was a quiet Friday night. Most people were out partying, hanging out at Buck’s, or at the Nightly Double. Sodapop and I, however, were in his empty house, laying on the couch and making out while the radio played. We rarely got any time to ourselves because he and the gang stuck like glue to each other so often. As much as I favored them, I also wanted some private time with my boyfriend. It was nice to have some peace and quiet for once. Well, for a little while at least.

“You taste amazing, Y/N,” Soda said between deep kisses. Slowly his lips made their way down to my neck, sprinkling my skin with a mixture of soft and intense kisses.

“Soda,” I whined in pleasure when he started to leave nibbles on my neck. If there was one Sodapop Curtis could do best it was kiss.

“Like that?” He asked with mischief in his voice. He knew the answer, but he liked it when I talked during our make out sessions. He was an intimate person who wanted more than just pleasure—he wanted connection and bonding, too. That has to be my favorite thing about him, how loving he is.

As we continued to hold each other as close as possible and share deep, passionate kisses, there was a loud BANG! Next thing I knew Soda and I were on the floor and he was covering me with his body to protect me from whatever just burst through the door. I was in too much shock to scream or say anything when I looked up and Soda was fighting two guys that appeared to be socs. Suddenly he went flying to the ground with one of the socs in his grasp. As a defense mechanism I backed up, not paying attention to the fact that there was the other soc behind me. He grabbed my arms suddenly, causing me to jump and turn to him.

“Well look at you,” he smirked maliciously, “so cute I might just have to take ya with me.” At this point I was shaking with fear. I whimpered quietly.

Soda saw me out of the corner of his eye and yelled my name. His instinct to keep me safe must’ve been hard at work in that moment, because he was able to escape the other soc’s headlock and run over to the one that now had me trapped in his arms. He punched the guy right in the face, hard enough to make him stumble backwards and release me. I ran to him crying from everything that just happened.

The rest of the gang were just coming back to the house, and the socs heard their hollering and chatting and ran out the backdoor at lightning speed. The greasers walked into the house to see Soda holding me close as I sobbed into his chest. He just gave them a look as to say, “the socs came by.”

#tw: suggestive #tw: fighting #tw: harassment #sodapop curtis #the outsiders #x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fic #the outsiders x reader #fanfic

[schrijverr]

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 4

Chapter 4 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, Chrissy and Steve have a sleepover. During it, they open up about shitty parents, unhealthy habits around food and Steve has a nightmare. It makes them even closer as the year progresses. Meanwhile, Billy is getting more and more frustrated until he snaps and attacks Steve, who is saved by an unlikely hero.

On AO3.

Ships: eventual steddie and buckingham

Warnings: eating disorder, child abuse mention, period typical homophobia, nightmare, vomiting, bullying, f-slur, fighting

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4: The Sleepover

Ever since that Saturday, Chrissy has discovered how easily she can get out of the house and over to Steve’s under the guise of meeting up with people from cheer squad. So, their time together has increased significantly.

Steve is pretty sure Chrissy is his best friend right now.

Of course, they still mostly see each other at school, having practice each day. However, now Steve will drive her home after and they’ll stop by a park and talk for a little bit. And it’s not until two weeks later that Chrissy says: “We could have a sleep over. My mom will be going with my dad to this work party and she said she’d feel better if I’m not alone.”

In all honesty, Steve is kind of blown away that he is her first pick. He has never been anyone’s first pick without performing King Steve. He smiles at her and says: “Course, sounds fun.”

The bit of insecurity that lingered over Chrissy disappears as her face brightens. “Cool, then I’ll see you Saturday,” she says, before skipping over to the changing room.

Chrissy arrives on Saturday quite late, but grinning mischievously as he opens the door. “I stalled, so my mom wouldn’t wait to see, who opened the door. She thinks you’re a very nice christian girl, Stevie.”

“You’re a menace, Chris,” Steve shakes his head as he lets her in. He is excited to have a fun evening with his friend, but also unsure of how the night will go. He is also planning to bring up the food thing, though he doesn’t know how that will go.

She throws her bag in the hall and toes of her shoes. Then she dives into her bag as she says: “I have a copy of the Breakfast Club and you’re not allowed to protest.”

“Whatever you say,” Steve tells her with a fond grin, not having planned on protesting.

It says a lot about how close they’ve gotten that Chrissy moves through his house easily without having been there often. She rummages through all his cabinets in search for a glass and he watches her with amusement from the kitchen threshold.

However, the Harrington kitchen is quite big and they have a lot of cabinets with all sorts of tableware. So after watching her struggle for a bit Steve says: “You can also just ask, you know that, right, Chris?”

Chrissy pouts at him and says: “It’s not my fault that your house in confusing. Where do you keep glasses? I want some water.”

Steve opens a cabinet she hadn’t gotten to yet and fills it up with water, before handing it to her with a flourish: “My lady.”

“Thank you,” she grins, then moves to the living room where she attempts to figure out the TV system the Harringtons have.

Meanwhile Steve gets himself a glass of coke and goes to sit on the couch. He watches as Chrissy continues to press buttons until she figures it out, heart swelling with fondness. It’s nice to have a friend again, he hasn’t had a sleepover in ages.

The last time he watched a movie with someone like this was back when he was still trying to be King Steve. For a second he worries that she thinks this is a date, which he wouldn’t go for even if he were straight, because she is fifteen to his seventeen.

Right when he wonders that, she turns around and huffs: “Your TV is fucking stupid, Stevie. It is evil, I tell you.”

She is in a ratty shirt and her hair is up in an ugly bun. The way she’s complaining reads more like an annoying little sibling than anything else and he’s been on enough dates to know that her behavior isn’t very date-like.

He lets out a relieved breath, before smirking as he gets up, easily starting up the movie as Chrissy rolls her eyes and tells him he’s annoying.

However, she doesn’t complain further and crawls onto the couch, making herself comfortable as Steve starts up the movie and sits down next to her. When he does she flops over him. The move makes Steve smile and he relishes in the friendly contact.

By the time the end credits roll, they’re two vegetables on the couch. Steve is sure they can find something else to watch, but first: “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

“What?” Chrissy asks, looking up from where she made herself at home in his lap.

“I’m gonna order pizza, what do you want?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, uhm,” Chrissy says, looking wrong footed. “Not a big pizza fan,” she settles on after a moment.

“Chris,” Steve starts, unsure where to go from now, but knowing he has to say something. “You- you need to eat something. What you’re doing isn’t healthy.”

She straightens up, getting out of his lap as she practically shrinks into the other side of the couch. It rubs Steve wrong, the way she makes herself smaller. She tucks her hair behind her ear and says: “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t do this, Chris,” Steve says, brows pulling together, a lump in his throat.

“Let it go, Steve,” Chrissy shoots back and the use of his name hurts more than he’s willing to admit.

Still, he doesn’t let it affect him. He steels himself and shakes his head. “No. Just no. I’m not letting it go. You barely eat during lunch, you always refuse snacks. Fuck, you’re skin and bones, Chrissy. It shouldn’t be so easy to toss you in the air.”

“You don’t understand,” Chrissy is yelling now.

“Then make me understand,” Steve yells back. “Just fucking talk to me. Explain. Please.”

They’re both breathing heavily after their outbursts, just staring at each other. Neither of them are willing to break the look first, to give in. So, they stand there and wait to see who breaks first. Who will blink. Who will give in.

In the end Chrissy looks away first, her eyes boring holes into the ground as she hunches her shoulders. Quietly she says: “You don’t know what it’s like to live with her.”

“Who?” Steve asks softly, sitting down next to her gently, not yet touching. He doesn’t want her to stop talking.

“My mom,” Chrissy whispers. “She’s always on my case about what I’m eating. It’s suffocating. I’m not even allowed in the kitchen alone. And she’ll- she’ll like hem my clothes continuously, so they’re always too tight and it- it drives me wild. You can’t understand how that feels.”

“I do, though,” Steve tells her. “I get it. It fucking sucks, but you don’t have to listen to her. She’s being an asshole. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be healthy.”

“How the fuck can you know?” Chrissy snaps, her tone venomous. “Look at you. You’re doing perfectly fine. You’re not always getting yelled at, how the fuck can you know?”

“Chrissy, I’m literally being protected by the cheer team, because shit got so bad,” Steve frowns at her harsh words, his own slipping out. “My life also isn’t sunshine and rainbows.”

“Well, it’s not the same,” Chrissy tells him. “Your mother isn’t always breathing down your neck about every calorie. You can do whatever you want.”

The words hit a sore spot and Steve can’t stop the bitter laugh he lets out, something ugly twisting in his chest. “Yeah, I can do whatever I want,” he spits bitterly.

“Stevie?” Chrissy asks, his tone tipping her off that something changed.

“Seriously, Chris?” he says instead of answering her. “You think my parents fucking love me? They have been gone since January. January. I have been by myself for months. They don’t care. They’re off prancing through Europe or some shit, happy to forget me. All I’m good for here is playing their perfect fucking son. And I can’t even do that right.”

He gets off the couch, tears burning in his eyes as he starts pacing: “I’m a screw up. I had to quit basketball and if they ever find out that I did, I’m sure my father will kill me. Literally. He already thinks I’m pathetic. He gave up on me years ago. I am always by myself, having to keep up this charade to make them happy and it’s never enough.”

Steve turns to Chrissy, looking at her with imploring eyes as she sits on the couch without moving a muscle, waiting for the storm to be over.

“I know what a controlling mother is,” he tells her. “They’re never here, but when they are… Fuck, it’s like I can’t do anything right. The way I move is wrong, what I eat, how I eat- shit, some days I feel like I can’t even breathe right.”

“Stevie, I-” Chrissy starts.

“No,” he cuts her off. “I don’t want you to pity me, Chris. That’s not the point of this. I- I’m messing it all up. The point is that I get it. Parents suck. They’re the worst on the fucking planet and we’d be better of without them. I get it. But you can’t let them take everything from you. You deserve better than this, don’t you get it?”

He runs a hand through his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he turns around, waving his arms as he continues his speech. The words that have been built up inside him for so long finally pouring out.

“My parents would hate everything I do, if they ever found out, but that isn’t going to stop me. I like cheerleading. I like having friends. I like it. I don’t care what they think, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m not going to let them force me to give up what I like. Because I fucking deserve better, okay? And so do you.”

Steve turns back to Chrissy, who is still on the couch, looking quite gobsmacked. He is about to ask what she’s thinking when she burst out into tears.

Panic rises in his chest as he rushes to her side, slinging an arm over her shoulder as he holds her gently. Softly he says: “Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay. Please, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Chrissy hiccups, wiping his face with the sleeve of her shirt.

“No need to be sorry,” Steve tells her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m so sorry, Chris.”

“It’s okay, idiot,” Chrissy says, bumping her shoulder against him. “I needed that. You’re right. And I am sorry about what I said about you being able to do what you want. Your parents sound like they suck.”

“They do,” Steve snorts. “For what it’s worth, it sounds like your mom sucks too.”

“She does,” Chrissy laughs. It’s still a bit wet sounding, but it’s better than the crying from earlier, so Steve takes the win.

Both of them fall quiet for a second, sitting on the couch in the living room, the credits of the Breakfast Club still rolling in the background.

“How did you do it?” Chrissy asks after a few seconds, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Do what?”

“Stop caring.”

Steve is quiet as he thinks, then he slowly says: “It’s hard. I mean, I still care, but I try not to. It just takes time and effort. I have to remind myself constantly. And it’s easier to not care when they’re not here. But then they’ll call and I lie and pretend cheer practice is basketball practice and I pray that no one here reached out to them. They’ll tell me they’ll be away for a bit longer and it’s a relief, because I still care what they think and when they come back I’ll know.”

“So it all just sucks?” Chrissy asks.

“Yeah, kinda,” Steve laughs. “But you gotta keep trying anyway. Just start one day and try not to stop.”

“I can do that,” Chrissy says, determination bleeding into her posture.

“Hell yeah you can,” Steve agrees proudly. “So, pizza toppings?”

The question makes Chrissy laugh, before she admits: “I like pepperoni, but I- I can’t eat an entire pizza, Stevie.”

“We’ll share,” Steve offers with a smile. “I like pepperoni too.”

“Sounds good.”

Steve gets up and orders the pizza. He is glad it is finally out in the open. That Chrissy hasn’t shut him out or is mad at him. He hates it when his friends are mad at him.

Chrissy looks reluctant when the pizza arrives, but Steve doesn’t push. Some steps have to be made by yourself. Indeed determination swoops over her as she takes her first bite. Her eyes grow wide and she lets out a happy hum as she chews.

“Good?” Steve smiles.

“This is delicious,” Chrissy says, mouth still full.

Steve’s smile widens. “Good to hear.”

He puts on another movie that neither of them pay attention too. Chrissy only manages to eat three slices, but Steve is so proud of her. Making her blush as he tells her so.

With the pizza gone, the movie goes further ignored. Both of them end up lying on the floor, looking up at the popcorn ceiling. They’re talking about school, complaining about classes and homework, teachers that suck, weird stuff classmates did and mishaps from practice. Steve also talks a little about the kids.

When there’s a lull in conversation Chrissy suddenly asks: “Are you okay? No one bothering you at school or something?”

“What?” Steve asks, still not really used to someone looking out for him, especially someone like Chrissy, who is both younger than him and a girl.

“I don’t know, you’ve just been more fidgety the past week,” Chrissy says. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Steve feels himself flushing. The reason he’s been more fidgety is because he’s been trying to avoid Eddie. He has come up to Steve once since their conversation. Steve was nice, but ended the conversation and tried not to look in Eddie’s way after. Something he has been less successful at than he’d want.

He just can’t help it, though. Eddie is magnetic and his eyes are naturally drawn to him. Steve likes watching his dramatic gestures and hypnotizing eyes.

However, Steve only wants to make it through this year unscathed. That means getting an even bigger crush on Eddie Munson is out of the question. Hell, associating with the other boy is out of the question. Especially now that it seems like Eddie wants something from him. Steve has enough trouble as it is.

Though, when he thinks about it, Eddie hasn’t approached since that first time when Steve kind of iced him out.

Of course, Steve has ensured that he is continuously surrounded by cheerleaders, a part of the student body Eddie avoids almost as religiously as the basketball team. So, it’s not like he has given Eddie the chance. Which is good. That was the point.

Still, Steve can admit he’s a bit disappointed at how easily he has shaken the boy. And the only reason he’s still fidgety is because he’s become quite paranoid after the Upside Down, so the few times he has caught Eddie’s eyes afterwards are enough to put him slightly on edge.

Not that he can tell Chrissy any of this. He wants to kid himself into believing she’d be cool with the whole gay thing, but he isn’t going to delude himself like that. Chrissy’s entire family is highly religious. The chances she’d be cool are very low.

So instead he says: “I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

“You sure?” Chrissy pushes.

“Sure,” he tells her with a smile.

“Alright,” Chrissy lets it go, much to his relief.

They stay up way too late, like you’re supposed to at a sleepover. Chrissy teaches Steve how to braid hair and Steve confides in her about the Farrah Fawcett spray, after which he swears her to secrecy. It’s fun and they’re still giggling as they brush their teeth,

Steve sets Chrissy up in a guest room near his, telling her where the bathroom is before leaving her there.

He knows they could share his bed, but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable or make it seem like he’s pulling a move. He also doesn’t want to scare her in case he has a nightmare. They can get pretty bad, but it has been a while since he woke up screaming. He hopes his luck will hold through the night and he won’t wake Chrissy if he does have a nightmare.

Of course luck has never been in his favor and a few hours later he finds himself flying out of his bed, feeling disoriented.

A door opens behind him and he swirls around, his arms up in a fighting position as he tries to blink the world into focus. Sweat is cooling on his back, breath still catching in his lungs, as images of the demodogs surrounding him still flash in his mind’s eye.

“Stevie?” a voice asks him. One that doesn’t fit into the nightmare he had just woken up from.

Chrissy, his mind supplies.

Another blink and indeed there stands Chrissy in her pajamas, hand still clutching the door knob as she worries a lip between her teeth. She looks a bit scared, like she wants to reach out to him, but is afraid of the probably too intense look in his eyes and his fighting stance.

The anxiety slowly seeps away as a wave of nausea rolls through his body. He swallow thickly, before rushing to the en-suite bathroom, flicking on the light, before dropping to his knees and throwing up in the bowl.

There are footsteps behind him, then a small figure appears beside him. An equally small hand starts rubbing his back as he gags a few more times.

When no more puke comes out, Steve leans back against the wall. His head is bowed between his knees and he feels unable to face Chrissy. God, he feels fucking pathetic.

He feels Chrissy’s warmth against his side as she sits next to him. Both of them are quiet for a few seconds, then Chrissy asks: “You okay, Stevie?”

“Not really,” Steve confesses softly, not finding the energy to lie or come up with a reason.

“I’m sorry,” Chrissy says.

That gets Steve’s attention. He looks up at her in confusion. She looks earnest about it too and he doesn’t get it. “What are you sorry for?”

“After that day when Lisa forced you to eat, I- I should have guessed you weren’t fully okay either, especially not after that speech tonight,” she explains. “But I never asked. So, I’m sorry.”

Steve is overcome with incredible fondness for the girl next to him, who somehow cares about him in a way no one has.

“It’s okay, Chris,” he tells her, gently bumping against her. “I wouldn’t have told you if you asked anyway.”

“Why not?” Chrissy asks with an unhappy frown.

“Because it’s embarrassing,” Steve answers bluntly. “I mean, come on. I am nearly eighteen and I get nightmares that make me puke. That’s not exactly information I want out there.” He’s quiet for a second, then he softly adds: “I don’t like talking about it.”

Chrissy is silent as she thinks. Her face has lost the frown and she gives him a sympathetic smile as she says: “You don’t have to. But I’m glad I know. We’re here for each other, right?”

“Yeah, course,” Steve assures her, though mentally he thinks he is more there for her than vise versa. He is older, he’s already a protector. He’ll look out for her, to make sure nothing will get her. She doesn’t know half of what’s out there.

“And for the record,” Chrissy states, “I don’t think it’s embarrassing. Nightmares are the worst and you’re brave for going through them.”

He appreciates the sentiment so much and he knows that if he tries to say anything he voice might crack or tears may start to fall. So instead he throws an arm around her and pulls her close. The two of them just sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

They sit there for another fifteen minutes, before Chrissy asks: “Wanna go to bed again?”

“No, I’m probably gonna go downstairs, maybe do some homework or something,” Steve tells her honestly. “But you can go back to sleep again. I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I’m not going to let you wallow alone, you idiot,” she says, sounding offended that he would even think that. “Lets play a card game or something.”

“Chris…” Steve protests, but Chrissy doesn’t listen to him. Instead she gets up and pulls him along to his bed, plucking the deck of cards from where they lay forgotten on his desk.

Steve decides to just give in and let her do her thing. They argue a little about the rules, but in the end it doesn’t matter much. They play about two rounds, before exhaustion sets in again. Steve can’t remember which one of them falls asleep first.

After that night Chrissy and Steve are as thick as thieves, practically inseparable, both in school and after it.

Lisa is quite done with how they seem to make a game out of annoying the other, or how they’ll compete about stupid little stuff. But she tags along whenever she can, making sure Chrissy and Steve don’t accidentally kill each other by stunting without a back spotter.

Steve has also made it a habit to bring extra lunch to school, since Chrissy’s mom refuses to give her more food to bring. It isn’t perfect yet, but it’s comforting to see her eat during lunch period and there is a sense of pride that comes whenever she thanks him for it. Like he’s taking care of her, doing something right for once.

Chrissy meanwhile asks him every day if he slept okay, noting when the bags under his eyes get darker when he’s going through a rough patch.

She helps him hide most of it with some makeup that she brings to school and convinces her mom to let her sleep over that weekend. It’s nice to not wake up alone for a change.

In their months of friendship, Steve has never met Chrissy’s parents, not that Chrissy has met his either.

Quite honestly, he truly doesn’t want to either. Whenever Chrissy talks about her mother especially, he is reminded of his own parents, who still haven’t returned home. He doesn’t know what it says about him that he hopes they’ll stay away until he can go to college.

Still, he is quite well known by Chrissy’s mother, who is delighted that Chrissy has befriended a good christian girl named Stevie. Chrissy delights in telling him about their fictional adventures that she spun to her mother. It’s kind of funny, Steve has to admit.

In reality most of their afternoons are spend in cheer practice. Competitions are coming up again, so they’re perfecting their new routine. Molly is convinced they’ll win this time and her laser focus and enthusiasm is infectious.

Not all is perfect of course. He often has to clean his locker when it is vandalized again and he is tripped up whenever possible, not to mention all the insults that are slung in his face.

On top of that, he hasn’t had a single acceptance letter in the mail yet, which isn’t great for his anxiety and the only reason he thinks he even has a shot at graduating is because Sofia graciously offers her time to him. He has taken to buying her lunch as a thank you.

Outside of school he still drives the twerps around as well. They mostly want to go to the arcade, but he has also brought them to Hopper’s cabin a few times or picked them up the Wheeler’s house after DnD.

One weekend he even drove Max to a skating rink a few towns over and watched as she performed all sort of dizzying stunts on her board.

Dustin is still his main little guy and he will show up whenever he pleases and brighten Steve’s day, a fact he will never let him know. However, Max and Will are both quickly making it up there as well.

He and Will never talk about that connection in the kitchen, about what they share. Neither of them is willing to acknowledge it, but sometimes they share a look when something happens and that is enough for now.

Steve has for example figured out that Will has a crush on Mike, which he thinks is stupid. Sure, the kid is Will’s best friend, but he’s also a bit of an asshole. Granted that can also just be because he is thirteen years old and everyone is an asshole at thirteen, but Steve stands by it.

So, whenever he thinks Mike does something idiotic, he’ll look at Will with judge-y eyes and Will will pull a face as if to say that he knows, but that he can’t help it and there are good parts to Mike as well.

It’s fun.

He knows that Max doesn’t have it easy at home. He sees Billy on a warpath nearly every day in the halls of Hawkins High. He hasn’t gotten a date with a cheerleader in months now and Steve is just waiting for the day he’s going to snap.

So, Steve tries to get her out of the house and doing something fun as often as he can. They never acknowledge it, but he’s trying to be a better brother than Billy is. So far, he thinks he’s pretty successful all things considered.

His efforts aren’t as appreciated by Billy, who doesn’t show any interest in his step sister beyond tormenting her, yet will glare at Steve whenever they see each other out in public. Still, he hasn’t done too much since their encounter last November.

However, not all good things are meant to last and it comes to a boiling point in the week before spring break.

Steve is sitting in the cafeteria talking to Chrissy and Lisa when his eyes are drawn to some movement. He looks up to see Molly walking away with a huff and a little bit of a thunder cloud over her head.

He looks to see what got that reaction and sees Billy leaning against the wall with an annoyed look on his face. If Steve has to guess he’d been leaning over Molly moments before in an attempt to ask her out. Something that seems like it wasn’t a success.

Tommy is coming up to Billy, likely trying to placate his anger. He’s been Billy’s little lapdog since the fall and it still hurts a bit to see his old friend now hang around his primary bully.

Right as Tommy is doing that, Billy looks up and happens to meet Steve’s eyes. Billy’s eyes immediately narrow, probably thinking that Steve is getting some amusement out of his misfortune or something. So to try and negate the damage, Steve quickly looks away, but it is too late.

Billy straightens up and shrugs of Tommy’s hand as he starts to march towards Steve. His face looks like murder. It looks like that day at the Byers house. It looks like Steve is in deep shit.

Without being conscious of it, Steve gets to his feet. If he is going to be attacked, he’s not letting himself be trapped at the table of a cafeteria, ready like an animal for slaughter. Steve might have made it a habit to get beaten up, but at least he’ll do down swinging.

None of the girls have noticed the danger yet, so when he gets up Lisa asks: “Steve?” in a confused voice.

Before he gets the chance to explain, Billy is already on him. He has grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and this time he won’t be able to wiggle out of it that easily. “You,” Billy seethes.

“What about me?” Steve shoots back, trying to look unaffected as he searches for a way to get out of this, or fight back.

“You fucking fag,” Billy rages. “You and your little pathetic protection squad. Can’t look even after yourself. Need the cheerleaders to do it.”

“Come on, man, no need to be jealous,” Steve smirks, oozing King Steve charisma. “Not my problem you suck at getting the ladies to like you.”

He knows it isn’t the smartest idea to poke the bear, so to speak. However, he hopes that he can keep some of his dignity throughout this ordeal, to not just fold like a straw. And he might as well take Billy down a peg if he is going to get his ass beat.

Billy doesn’t reply to his taunt, instead tightening his fists as he readies himself to punch.

“What?” Steve continues now that he has found a sore spot. “Nothing to say, Hargrove? You can’t get a date? So what. You’re going to beat me up over it? Like you tried to fight that twelve year old you didn’t like?”

They’ve gathered quite the audience now and Steve decides to fuck it. Billy is making his life miserable, he can choke on his own actions.

“Yeah, I remember that,” he says, projecting his voice so everyone can hear. “Real mature move that was. You might have beat my face in, but won’t change that your first target was a little kid, you pussy.”

Over Billy’s shoulder he can see Tommy looking conflicted, his eyes flicking between Billy and Steve, as if he’s unsure if he should step. Steve can’t care less. Tommy is an asshole and he hates him.

Meanwhile Billy is apparently pushed to the brink of insults he’ll take. He lets out a roar – Steve can’t describe it as anything else – and throws a punch. A hard one.

Steve recoils from the force and hopes he doesn’t get a concussion out of his. He vividly remembers the doctor’s visit after his last fight with Billy. He can’t go through that again, literally. He physically can’t. Well, he could, but it has a big chance of ending badly for him. Very badly.

So, he immediately start to struggle to get free, knowing from their last fight that he can’t let himself be pinned down, because Billy will ruthlessly rain down on him and this time, there is no Max to save him

He hunches into himself and starts walking towards Billy, both of them moving back again. But they hit Tommy, who picks Billy, supporting him and pushing until Billy can turn the tide again and start pushing Steve back.

Vaguely Steve is aware that there is screaming around them and that his nose is bleeding. However, he can’t concentrate on the chants and the chaos, as he desperately fumbles in the hope of prying Billy’s fingers loose from his shirt. He’s already asking himself if he can rip the fabric to get out, before Billy can make him loose his footing.

The answer is: he can’t.

Billy hits him again and he barely manages to duck out of the way so that the hit only slides alongside his face, hitting his ear.

Still, the punch is enough of a distraction that Billy manages to push him over, letting go of his shirt so that Steve can’t hold on to his arm to keep himself upright. So he goes down like a sack of flour, hitting the floor with a dull thud that travels up his arms.

He doesn’t allow himself time to reorient himself, already envisioning Billy pinning him down like he did before.

So, he’s already scrambling back when a dark blur fills his vision. For a second he fears that it’s one of Billy’s lackeys, but no pain comes. Instead the form stands over him in an almost protective manner.

Steve blinks a few times, there in front of him is Eddie Munson. He is holding both of Billy’s fists in his hands, holding him back from attacking again. He is smirking and not looking like it’s taking him much effort. However, Steve can see how his neck is straining, muscles likely bulging under his leather jacket.

“You know, the pulling on pigtails thing is so overdone,” Eddie informs him casually. “If you want to sleep with Stevie-boy here, there are better ways to go about it.”

“I’m not some fag,” Billy snarls as he pulls back as if burned. Then he directs his next words at Steve, who is still on the ground behind Eddie. “First girls, now your boyfriend? It’s pathetic how you hide behind others, Harrington.”

“At least I could get a date, if I wanted,” Steve shoots back, not letting Billy have the last word.

Billy moves to jump him again, but is stopped by Tommy. He pushes Tommy out of the way, but doesn’t start shit again and instead he stalks away.

With Billy gone the excitement dies down and people turn to their own things again. Chrissy and Lisa are at Steve’s side checking him over. Chrissy’s brow is pinched as she asks: “Should we get you to a nurse? Your nose is bleeding.”

“Yeah, you don’t look okay,” Lisa adds.

“Wow, thanks. You two really know how to make a man feel special” Steve jokes, attempting a smile even as his face throbs. “No, but I’m fine, really. It’s okay.”

“I think you should get that checked out, pretty boy,” a new voice cuts in.

Eddie has squatted down in front of him and is checking him over as well with those concerned Bambi eyes. That gaze makes Steve aware how messy he looks. Blood is soaking from his nose into his shirt and he is entirely rumpled. He is also still on the floor.

A blush creeps over his face and he tears his eyes away from Eddie as he huffs: “I didn’t need you protecting me. I had it handled.”

“You call that having it handled?” Eddie asks with a raised brow, like he’s having a hard time believing it.

“It’s better than last time,” Steve defends himself. “He smashed a plate over my head then.”

“What!” Chrissy shrieks.

“I was fine,” Steve assures her, already regretting letting that tidbit slip.

“That sounds bad,” Lisa frowns.

“I was fine,” Steve repeats. “I went to a hospital and everything. It’s all okay. Just like I’m okay now.” He glares at Eddie. “I was fine.”

Eddie faces his glare head on with an air of nonchalance that always hangs about him. “I’m sure you are, big boy,” he tells him. “It still won’t hurt to get a tissue for that.” He nods towards Steve’s still bleeding nose.

When Eddie doesn’t respond to his hostility, Steve switches tactics and asks: “Why did you even help me? You’ve only made yourself a target.”

“Nah, man. Not if Billy wants his drugs, I’m not,” Eddie grins. “Besides, whereas the basketball team looks after the popular kids, I look after the lost sheep. You’re one of the outcasts now, Stevie, that means you’re under my jurisdiction.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Steve protests, but he manages a smile. Eddie might want some mysterious thing from him, but he also looks out after his own. He had almost forgotten they shared something now.

“Well,” Eddie stands up again and claps his hands. “That was enough excitement for today, I think. See you around, Steve. Look after yourself.” He nods at Chrissy and Lisa. “My ladies.” Then walks back to his table.

“He is not like I expected him to be,” Chrissy whispers.

“Mean and scary?” Lisa asks.

“Yeah,” Chrissy nods.

“He’s a weird guy,” Steve says, unable to hide a bit of fondness that creeps in. He gets up from the floor and says: “Might be smart to get a tissue.”

“I’ll walk you to the nurse,” Chrissy offers.

“Yeah, and I’ll take your stuff our next class and explain why you’re late,” Lisa adds.

“Thanks,” Steve smiles.

He and Chrissy walk away. As they make their way to the nurse, she comments: “You and Eddie seemed to know each other.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then shrugs: “We talked once. He seems nice, but- I don’t know… We don’t really associate.”

“Alright,” Chrissy luckily seems to let it go. “Glad he was there. I was really scared.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” Steve says, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

~~

A/N:

Chrissy and Steve have parent issues, jock solidarity and u can’t change my mind, lmao

Also, disclaimer: I am not in any way, shape or form a good source on how do deal with someone you care about going through an eating disorder. Please do not take fanfic as a helpful source or guide to deal with such issues.

It’s hilarious in a sad way that I am going against the grain by giving Steve a little bit self worth rip

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #chrissy cunningham #billy hargrove #cheerleader steve harrington au #steve harrington & chrissy cunningham #buckingham #tw: eating disorder #tw: child abuse #tw: bullying #tw: f slur #tw: fighting #tw: period typical homophobia #tw: nightmares #tw: vomiting

[polikszena]

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol: Ethan Hunt and his blue suit - Part 2 (dir. Brad Bird, 2011)

#mission impossible #mission: impossible #ethan hunt #tom cruise #ghost protocol #tw: violence #tw: fighting #photoshop misadventures #though some people pronounce it jif

[madmanwonder]

Prompt

Fusion- Mercenary and Horror Ghost AU

Danny is hired to deal with a ghost named Ember who uses her music to lead her victims into her house and then kill them. He comes into the house prepared thanks to his parents having weapons to fight ghosts. She is very strong with her guitar power and other tricks... but Danny has his own tricks thanks to his experience in the battle field. She will realize that he ain't just any normal mortal.

(Action)

There was a empty abandoned two story building house that was once a good-looking house to live in

CRASH! PEW! BANG! BOOM!

Now it was a battlefield between Danny Fenton, professional mercenary ghost hunter and a powerful and dangerous ghost woman using her equally powerful and dangerous powers to fight against the skilled and cunning mercenary.

Ember: You are major pain in the body are you human!?

The rock star-like ghost growl angrily as she sends a wave of ghostly energy to Danny who dodged the attack with a military roll.

Danny: I could say the same to you~

He replied with snark as he gave the female ghost with a audacious smile.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #ember mclain #mercenary au #mercenary au prompt #horror au #horror au prompt #ghost au #ghost au prompt #action #fighting #tw: fighting

[citiair]

LIKE YOU part three

————

aran ojiro x black!female!reader

-> ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE!!! basketball!player!aran, cheerleader!black!reader, reader and aran are good friends, aran is low key a jerk, reader likes aran, ANGST, she/her pronouns, female bodied. small mentions of graphic fighting. italics with ‘*’ means flashbacks, bolded let’s mean talking, FLUFF.

pt. 1 -> pt. 2 -> pt. 3

⤓

YOU KNOW YOURE A FREAKING PEST!

you screamed at aran, who sat there with scratches on his face.

i was just watching out for you calm down. he said you to trying to bandage his face. he looked you as you were wiping your eyes from the tears escaping from them.

he put his bandaging materials down and got up from the bench in the boys’ locker room and walked over to you. he stood infront of you and wrapped his arms around you.

you cried in his chest and hugged him back.

why did you do this. why do you make me feel this way. you stammered in his shoulder as tears covered his basketball uniform.

i’m sorry, i really am. he told you sincerely as he took one of his arms from around you and placed a hand on your cheek.

he kissed your forehead and looked at you as you look back at him.

i took my anger out at the wrong time, this is all my fault. he said to you as you rolled your eyes, reminiscing about earlier events.

t̲h̲r̲e̲e̲ ̲h̲o̲u̲r̲s̲ ̲p̲r̲i̲o̲r̲ ̲*̲

* you were gathering all your materials for the game tonight out of your dorm.

you grabbed your pom poms, uniform top and bottom, your bow, and shoes, but there was something you were missing.

you pondered on what you were missing until willow walked through the door with a laundry basket in their hands.

my socks! you shrieked and ran to them and took the laundry basket out their hand.

hello to you too! willow sarcastically said to you.

you dug through the basket of clean clothes and found your socks.

you smiled at your triumph and rolled them up then tossed then in your duffle bag.

curry! you made a pose as if you just through a ball in a hoop.

willow laughed at you and sat on their bed. so are you gonna be okay tonight babes? they asked you sincerely.

they’ve been worried about you these pass couple days ever since aran ghosted you, your attitude had changed.

you were sleeping late, missed some class— which you never do! and ate like a gazillion pounds of ice creams.

ugh! heartbreak!

you went to willow and hugged them tightly. they hugged you back and kissed your cheek.

you smiled and kissed their cheek as well. you stepped away and look at them.

i’ll be fine wills! yes it stings a little but i won’t let him ruin tonight. today is very important game for some people and we have a really fun cheer planned! you cheered to willow who smiled at you with their freshly done purple braces.

you smiled and ran to your side of the room.

i know you’ll be fine, just hate to see you hurt. though i can’t wait to see you and everyone at the game. they spoke to you and grinned.

you turned them and blew them a kiss then made your way out the room.

they screamed ‘love you’ and you yelled back a ‘love you too’.

‘let’s get this over with, yea’. you thought to yourself as you proceeded down the halls on your dorm’s building.

—

you got to the school and ran to the girls locker you only had an hour to get ready because you wanted to get some starbucks, can’t blame you though.

don’t nobody feed y’all after these games.

you got to the locker and walked through the door and went straight to your locker.

kendra walked in the dressing room to her locker and huffed.

she was thinking of why aran was being so distant with her lately just a couple days he was all over her. now he is saying he don’t want her like that no more.

what changed. was she not good enough. did she do something wrong.

she looked down at the ground as tears fell from her eyes.

why didn’t no one love her.

you turned around when you heard a quietly sobbing kendra.

by now you had your cheer uniform except your shoes and bow.

you knew you were still upset with her but once upon a time you guys used to always be together— best friends, but a lot of that changed when you guys got high school and of course aran was added to the equation.

it used to be you three all the time. what happened was that aran asked you to his senior prom and kendra got jealous and stopped talking to you. and only you.

it’s stupid, yes of course. yet that deflated a whole friendship and you can’t lie you missed her, all that drama happened in high school.

you guys are both sophomores now and you just want to let bygones be bygones.

as for aran, aran still thought you didn’t like her, but no that was wrong. you guys actually talked a few times, yes it was awkward but you’ve made conversation.

you would say you were passed it but her you didn’t know if she was.

you did tighten your lips together and huffed hard, then walked over to her.

hey kendra… you said to her lowly. she was now sitting on the bench texting someone you didn’t know who though.

she sniffles and murmured a ‘hi’ to you.

you sat next to her and hugged her, she hugged you tightly and cried on your shoulder.

i’m so sorry y/n, i miss you so much. i did you wrong so many times. i’m so so sorry. she told you as she hiccuped.

it’s okay kendra.i miss you too. you told her. you knew what she was referring too.

the prom fiasco.

sleeping with aran, twice.

yea you knew.

and as well as the not talking to you.

but you had been forgiven her because it was just all stupid drama. maybe not the sleeping with aran. you’ll get back to her on that.

it’s not okay though. you were my best friend. she said as she pulled away and looked at you.

you nodded and sighed.

she is not wrong though, you were just trying to lighten up the mood.

yea…but i forgive you. you said to her. you meant it.

she smiled and placed her head on your shoulder.

thank you.

—

you and your cheer mates were cheering y’all butts off.

you knew this was an important day for aran. some recruiters were coming to look at the game.

you remembered this because that’s all he was talking about a couple days prior before ghosting you.

your cheer mates backed up a little so you could hit a kart wheel into a spilt.

they cheered behind and started chanting your name then the teams name.

aran looked over and saw you and smiled.

he missed you…real bad.

aran blocked a player from the other team trying to get the ball into his team’s net.

he ran around the gym, as the crowd of people and cheer team chanted his name and his number— 1.

micah was picked up on that and wasn’t so happy so ran in aran’s directions and tripped him trying to play it off as if he was running passed him.

micah smirk evilly and ran to the rest of the game. aran sat there on the ground dumbfounded, realizing people were picking on what just happened.

you were in awe. this is not gonna end well.

aran got up from the ground walked over to were micah was guarding and swung punch at him causing him to fall to the ground.

aran got on top of him and started punching him repeatedly.

micah grabbed aran’s shirt trying to regain some power but oh no! aran wasn’t having that. micah got a few scratches on aran’s face but that was all.

it wasn’t until a couple seconds later the cheer team, the other basketball team, the coaches, and referee came to jump in and stop the fight.

you. you were just standing there because what they had going ain’t have nothing to do with you.

the ref pulled aran off with the help of some basketball players and one of the coaches helped a beaten up micah up.

BRO WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM! micah screamed at him.

you...YOU TRYING TO TALK Y/N! aran screamed back.

I don’t get why you’re tripping out about it! micah grunted at him.

aran looked around at everyone eying him. he pulled away from the people holding him back and walking away from the scene.

you watched him and sighed looking down.

so maybe, this had something to do with you.

kendra came up to you and tap you on your shoulder.

go to him. she said with tears in her eyes.

she knew aran loved you.

she just denied it.

you nodded and ran after him.

‘i’m doing the right thing’. she thought to herself. *

p̲r̲e̲s̲e̲n̲t̲ ̲t̲i̲m̲e̲

you pulled away from aran and looked down at the ground. he went to sit back on the bench.

come here, love. he said as he patted the seat next to him.

you hesitated but sat next to him. you fiddled with your fingers.

i’m sorry for being a pest these past couple of days. he told you and he grabbed your hands.

you looked at him and sighed. look if i made you uncomfortable by telling you that- you tried to talk yourself out this conversation.

only to be cut off by, i love you. he said as a tear escaped from his eye.

i was scared and i acted out. i slept with kendra. i ignored you. my bestfriend, i ignored you. i’m so sorry. he told you full on sobbing while pulling you closer to him.

and you fought poor micah. you said wiping his tears.

i don’t care about him, he shouldn’t have thought he could what’s mine. he explained.

yours? you questioned him furrowing your eyebrows.

he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

can we do a redo? he asked you yearningly.

you nodded and he let go of your hands, went to his locker, opened it and grabbed his phone then sat back down next to you.

you tilted your head and looked at him curiously.

—

⁶:³⁷𝚙𝚖 -> 𝗵𝗶, 𝗶'𝗺 𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗷𝗶𝗿𝗼. 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

𝗵𝗶, 𝗶'𝗺 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻. 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗼. <- ⁶:³⁷𝚙𝚖

—

you giggled, as placed him phone down next to him then took one of his hands and put it on your check and pulled you into a sweet kiss.

you kissed back and smiled.

a couple seconds later you guys pulled away and smiled at eachother.

now let’s talk about how shock those recruiters was. they might recommend you to do boxing. you giggled as he rolled his eyes playfully.

he chuckled softly admiring you and your beauty.

he’s so happy you love him and he

loves you.

————

a/n: that’s a wrap guys! thank so much for the support. i’m so happy i got back into writing i missed it. who knows maybe i’ll drop a sequel well again thank you so much for the support until next time my loves! <3

© citiair, all rights reserved. no copying of my work! inspiration is appreciated but must be credited! work is modified because of the owning I have to it!

#x black reader #black reader #black y/n #black!reader #black yn #x black fem reader #anime x reader #fem reader #poc reader #tw: angst #tw: fighting #love #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #aran ojiro x reader #ojiro aran #aran x reader #aran ojiro #alternative universe #haikyū!! #anime x poc!reader #anime x black!reader #au modern #cheerleader #basketball #citiair — chronicles ༄ #black girls #fanfic #fandom #haikyu fanfiction

[crisiscutie]

A Flirt with Death

Pairing: Reader/KH Sephiroth. Reader is AFAB.

Summary: You've always loved a dance with death when it came to Sephiroth. Your recent conflict with him has taken a twist you never expected.

Word Count: 832

Ratings: Slight NSFW, Fighting, Power dynamics. Sadist Sephiroth and Masochist Reader. 

Don’t fool yourself, you’re not fighting Sephiroth to become better or to prove something. All you wanted was to be close to him, to savor the invigorating energy of his presence. And Sephiroth wanted to kill time while he waited for Cloud. Best of both worlds. You giggled as you felt the vibrations from his Masamune as it nearly cut your hair. If he landed that move, it would’ve made a bloody scene. You used your Keyblade to block another attack from him. A chill ran through the air as you sent out a Blizzaga spell to restrain his movement. He shrugged off the attack and fired off a series of dark orbs at you.

You were not tempting fate; you were courting disaster. He was toying with you and you knew it. He had the power to end this charade here and now. You had to keep him amused. An overwhelming sense of joy and excitement filled your heart. Is this the darkness your master warned you about? You gracefully dodged each orb thrown at you, executing the precise evasive techniques your master taught you. 

 It makes sense. You engaged in a blood sport just to interact with an alluring and mysterious man who can end you in seconds. When he first appeared, you were terrified. He almost killed you. Your dread weighed your body down and prevented you from moving initially... But you’ve grown so much since then. Gradually, you found yourself drawn back to him. Was it the way his lips curled whenever he smirked at you? That always sent shivers down your back. The pain he caused you was a strange combination of agony and ecstasy, too. Taking risks was never your style, but here you stood, flirting with danger. Damn your teenage wiles. Whenever he wasn't around, his absence was like a gaping hole in your heart, it left you feeling hollow.

You were so lost in your thoughts; you didn't notice your grave mistake. You stumbled on icy rubble, created from your failed Blizzaga spell earlier. This provided him the opportunity to swoop in and overpower you, sending you crashing to the ground. An involuntary gasp escaped your lips as your eyes widened. The Masamune was dangerously close to your left abdomen. It glinted menacingly in the light, a warning of the peril you were in. The ripple effect from his blade caused the fabric of your minidress to rip, exposing the delicate skin of your left abdomen.

Masamune was so close that you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, even though the blade never touched your skin. His icy blue eyes pierced your soul as you looked up and met his gaze. His trademark cool smirk was unmistakable. Then he curled his lips into a devilish grin, slightly different from what he normally gave you. You were so enchanted by him you didn’t even realize his vast, single black wing was enshrouding you. As you felt a powerful heat emanating from his long blade, a black feather rested on your chest. 

 With a sudden jolt, you kicked him up into the air and flew towards him with a battle cry. Both of your blades clashed, causing a metallic chorus to reverberate through the air. You didn’t know what happened, but it gave you the psyche boost you needed. The show must go on. The surviving fabric of your minidress threatened to rip if you kept this farce up, but you didn't care. You kept swinging your Keyblade at him, as your life depended on it. This was the most exhilarating experience you'd had. You'd do whatever it took, even risking death, to keep feeling this exhilarating rush. Even if the only emotion he held for you was a deep, sinister satisfaction in your plight. You were nothing but a source of wry amusement to him. As you went in for a hard blow, he summoned a shining wall of energy that effortlessly blocked your attack. 

 “That’s enough,” he said. He spoke with a gentle, yet authoritative voice. He casually brushed the dust and debris off him as you both descended into the stadium. You take a hasty step back. The wind blew through your hair as you shuffled your feet against the ground. Your Keyblade dissipated as you glared at him, pouting at the abrupt ending to your fight. He always pulled out at the best times, leaving you with a deep longing. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he softly chuckled.

The ethereal energy that summoned him is now calling him back as its aura surrounds him. As you watched him depart, you reflected on what happened. You had an incredibly close call today. Just like when you first crossed paths, he was close to ending it all. Though, you wonder if that was just him teasing, or if he really was warning you of his diminishing interest. Regardless, he granted you another day to live...

Maybe next time will be better? 

#Sephiroth #Kingdom hearts x reader #Sephiroth x reader #Reader is NOT Sora #set sometime during khux #reader has... issues. #Reader is in late teens #Sephy is a fightaholic #kh sephiroth x reader #kh x reader #FF7 X reader #Final fantasy x reader #tw: fighting #tw: power dynamics #Crisis Cutie writes #sephiroth fanfiction #reader insert

[sagesden]

The Skyclan rescue

TW: Fighting, Blo0d, Cat Deth

Bluestar Brightheart Yellowfang

Clouddapple Auburnsmoke Grasshopper Longtail Mothwing Hawkfrost

Dasiypaw

Yall ready for a battle

Bluestar lead her warriors to Riverclan camp and there outside was winclan Warriors and the group of Riverclan warriors ready to go to battle with the Shadowclan warriors that have taken over Skyclan camp. "Bluestar why is there an apprentice with you?" Tallstar asked looking at the small cat next to Yellowfang.

" He is here to help our Medicine cat and if things are dire, He will run back to camp and get a second wave of cats that are waiting incase of an attack or if we need back up.

Stonestar jumped on a log. "This is the plan, I will lead the river and wind cat into the camp to fight while Thunderclan cats will go and help all Skyclan cats to a clearing where our Medicine cats will heal them and their leader will decide if they rest or join the fight ok lets get going." Stonestar said and lead them into the battle Battle starts

Shadowclan HP:110

Riverclan and Windclan hp: 50 Skyclan HP: 70

Skyclan cats that need to be rescued:37 A Riverclan warrior attacked Shadowclan - 7hp A Windclan warrior attacked Shadowclan - 8hp A queen and her two kits escape in the commotion and Dasiypaw brings them to the clearing 34 left

Bluestar and Brightheart help Jaystar and their Deputy, Larkstrike out of camp and carry the body of an elder out of camp 31 cats remain A Riverclan warrior attacks Shadowclan - 8hp A Shadowclan warrior attacks Riverclan - 6hp

A Windclan warrior attacked Shadowclan - 6hp A Skyclan Warrior attacks Shadowclan - 1hp Thunderclan helps 2 cats out of the battle to injured to continue Bluestar Attack a Shadowclan warrior - 2 hp

Tigerstar made it to the stretch of land that Skyclan calls home and he was just in time as he hears the yells of fighting and he sees the cat who he was looking for. "Mothwing you've grown so much"

Mothwing looks to see her dad and smiled happily "I did as you said I killed both Redtail and gave Bluestar the tainted prey." She said as Tigerstar nodded his head towards her.

"You did great but I need you to go and Kill Bluestar again and I'll go after her weak Deputy."

Mothwing nodded and went of to find Bluestar

Um gonna say they defeated Shadowclan and they ran away but let me coin flip each cat that came to see if they live Time for writing YAY

Bluestar chased out a Shadowclan cat and looked around to see she is at the very edge of the territory and started to head back to the Skyclan camp to gather her warriors and head home. Before she made it a paw step Bluestar felt herself be pinned down and saw that mothwing had pinned her down to the ground. "Get off me" she said and felt her head be pushed onto the ground and claws dig into her head.

"No I don't think I will but I think you'll enjoy starclan very much." Mothwing said and bit down into her neck and got killed.

BLUESTAR HAS LOST HER LAST LIFE

Mothwing wipes the blood off of her and picked her body up and went back to the clan faking being sad as they ran up to Bluestar. Brightheart pressed her nose against Bluestar's head and whispered a sorry to her leader.

Yellowfang helped Brightheart carry Bluestar's body back to the camp.

When they got there cats gasped in surprise as they saw their dead leader.

"Cats of Thunderclan Skyclan is safe once again but it was not with out loss Bluestar was chasing away some Shadowclan cat and was killed doing so. I will travel tonight to receive my nine lives I must go now May she be guided to starclan.

This means we have a new leader please welcome Brightstar formally Brightheart and that means there a leader ceremony.

Before Brightstar could leave she felt the stare run through her blood

watch out for a poisonous moth that will bring the tiger's fury down on Thunderclan and destroy it forever

#clangen #warrior cat au #warrior cats #thunderclan au #clan gen #tw: death #tw: blo0d #tw: fighting #bluestar #tigerstar #mothwing #brightheart

[writingforatwistedworld]

Dear Malleus, I have greatly admired you when I first got to know you, but it is only after getting to know you that you truly won me over. You’ve held a special spot in my heart ever since I’ve heard you lecture Silver on the differences between grotesques and gargoyles. I hope that the bonds between us last forever. P.S. Yours horns got me thinking… can you turn into a dragon? If so, may I see that? Pretty please?

Since we don't know at the moment if Malleus can turn into a dragon I'm just going to say yes here. This was posted on the 8th March 2022 so idk how things will look in the future.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, obsessive themes, murder, religion, possessive behavior, fighting

Malleus Draconia-A vacant throne

Walking besides the tall fae you noticed him searching for something in the pocket of his jacket. When he finally found what be searched he pulled it out and gave it to you. The paper alone looked way too elegant to be addressed to someone like you. The black envelope was decorated with painted on roses, your name written neatly in Malleus handwriting was also in silver, just like the plants that represented him so well. After asking you to open it after you returned home you kept it in your own pocket. Looking back at him he was looking away from you, the paleness of his skin clearly showing a dark shade of red. After reading the letter you understood why.

Dear overseer,

I have never felt more joy in my life. Your letter has stirred my heart and I shall happily reply. Who would have ever dared to suggest that you favor, no love, someone? There are many tales about you. How you created order within the kingdom of the Queen of Hearts, equality between the hyenas and other beings, inspired the Sorcerer of the Sands and many, many more. There is no being greater than you and if one were to say that they were I would lull them into an eternal nightmare. It is the least I can do so please rest assured, your reign shall never be questioned.

Are you also interested in gargoyles? If that is the case then I shall tell you everything I know about them. I am being incredibly rude to you right now and I apologize for that. How could I, a simple fae, dare to assume that I know more about something than I do? It is unacceptable behavior. I will accept any kind of punishment which you deem as the right one.

You asked about my horns, if I am able to turn into a dragon and if he's if you could see me like that. My dear God, if I were to turn into my other form I would cause great panic among the students. I am rather tall so I would tower over the trees. If I ever find a way to show it to you without frightening others I shall do it immediately. For the time being, may I offer my horns and my tail? They are much smaller than my dragon ones but they might be able to quell the curiosity.

If you allow it, I would like to court you. No one within Briar Valley would ever dare to question our relationship if we were to enter into an intimate one but I wish to send a clear signal to those that also have their hands set on you. If I would not anyone could always say that they did not know and get away with it but if we would show it to others they would not have an excuse. The Valley of thorns may be small but we protect those we hold dear. Lilia has not fought in a serious battle for a while but even he would paint the sea red if someone would ever dare to interrupt our relationship. The entire valley would even help. My crown is yours. The throne vacant, waiting to be claimed by you. The treasury waiting to be emptied by you. Your life shall be spent in luxury if you would give me the honour of being your partner.

Respectfully yours,

Malleus Draconia

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #tw: yandere #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: possessive behavior #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: religion #tw: murder #tw: fighting