#badass reader

[blckbrrybasket]

Thinking thoughts of Rafe x Boxer!Reader

- one of the first things Rafe noticed about you was how you hold things. after multiple boxer fractures your hands shake sometimes.

- once you’re dating he kisses the scars on your knuckles from where you’ve busted them.

- sometimes he’ll bend your hands and watch how your fingers wrap into his. he loves how much damage your fists can do but that he still makes you soft.

- installs a punching bag in his home gym so you can practice. sometimes he uses it for himself.

- after you workout, Rafe helps patch up your hands the best he can.

- after matches he immediately gets to your side as fast as he can to check on you. thinks he knows better than the medical professionals by your side. has had to be pulled away before.

- urges you not to push yourself too far. will force you to stop when you split your knuckles and make you relax for the rest of the day.

- always sighing in fake annoyance (worry) when you come home with freshly bruised knuckles.

- constantly worries about you, but after watching the first match you were in after you started dating Rafe, he realized you can handle yourself fine.

- he gets the best lotion he can to help your hands with scarring.

- pays for manicures for you to still have your nails taken care of, even when they have to be shorts. pays for the full thing including hand massages for you.

- anything you need, he handles.

- brags about you all the time and shows off pictures of you boxing. has had you tell him a number of times to stop shit talking the opponent, but he never stops. after all they’ll never be as good as his partner.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCRAZY WOMAN ON TOUR * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　where during day 2 of the Sturniolo Triplets Surprise Party Tour, an insane woman tries to get the boys' attention in a very rude way, interrupting Chris and annoying Y/N.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　second-hand embarrassment (lol), purposefully change of the woman's name.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: For the ones who don't know what this is about, watch this.

A/N³: I don't know why, but watching the scene of the woman on yesterday's show reminded me of this, and I felt inspired to write this 😭.

Y/N's eyes gleamed with pride and admiration as she watched her boyfriend and his brothers, the golden stage lights casting a beautiful glow over the two vibrant orange couches where the triplets sat.

Matt and Nick lounged comfortably on the left one, their elbows draped lazily over the armrests, while Chris occupied the right couch alone, his right leg crossed over his left.

"Because we're triplets, and we're so close, like, doing all this-" Chris began, his fingers grazing the tattoo on his ankle. But before he could continue, an abrupt, high-pitched voice from the balcony cut the moment like a knife.

"MY NAME IS LANY!"

Chris blinked, his lips parting slightly as he turned his head toward the disruption.

"... Um, hi, Lany." With an exasperated look, he simply muttered before refocusing on his brothers, determined to continue speaking.

But before another syllable could leave his mouth, the same voice shrieked once more.

"MY NAME IS LANY!"

Nick, who had been shifting slightly in his seat, turned sharply toward the source of the noise, lifting his microphone to his mouth with such a strength that Matt swore it would hit his front teeth.

"Can you stop talking?"

For a few seconds, an uneasy silence stretched across the theater before Chris resumed his talking.

"But basically, what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, was that our tour is so unique and so genuine-"

"MY NAME IS LANY!"

Chris’s jaw visibly clenched, his eyes momentarily shutting in frustration as the same disruptive voice rang out once more.

And that was it.

That was the moment Y/N’s patience finally snapped.

She had been trying - truly trying - to maintain her composure, to let security handle it, to ignore the way this woman was actively trying to end the boys' moment. But the audacity of continuously cutting Chris off, interrupting his focus, and disturbing the flow of their conversation made her skin crawl.

Y/N despised seeing him struggle to stay composed, knowing how much this tour and his surprise for this night meant to him - being right by his side when he got his tattoos. Her fingers curled into her palms, sharp nails hurting her soft skin, and with a steady exhale, she pushed herself up from her seat.

Her movements were smooth but purposeful, pure authority in the way she started walking toward the stairs leading to the balcony. She wasn’t moving impulsively - no, she knew exactly what she was going to do.

Chris, noticing her stand, flicked his gaze toward her briefly, his lips pressing together.

But he didn’t stop her. He knew better.

As she walked, fans sitting by the edge of the rows around the small runway turned their heads, their eyes widening in excitement. Some exchanged whispers, giddy over seeing her so close, while others simply watched in admiration.

They adored her just as much as the boys.

As Y/N finally reached the first row of the balcony, her voice softened, a big contrast to the tension in those around the crazy lady.

"Excuse me." She murmured, offering polite smiles to the fans as she carefully navigated her way past them. "So sorry, just need to get through. Thank you."

Finally, she reached her target.

Lany, seemingly preparing to scream once again, inhaled deeply, but before she could release another obnoxious shriek, Y/N stepped between her and the railing, positioning herself directly in her line of sight.

Her presence alone was commanding, her expression unreadable yet firm. Lowering her voice, she leaned in slightly.

"You need to stop." She said, voice calm but firm. "If you keep this up, you're going to have to leave."

The woman scoffed, folding her arms as she tilted her head.

"Oh, and who exactly are you?"

Y/N's lips curved just slightly, but there was no humor in her eyes.

"I’m the person telling you to stop." She replied, her voice unwavering.

Lany opened her mouth again, tilting her body so her eyes could meet the stage, her breath hitching as she prepared to yell. Y/N, already anticipating it, exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes before making her next move.

In one swift motion, she draped her arm around the woman’s shoulders - not aggressively - but with enough pressure to assume control.

Immediately, several fans close by stood up, concern flashing across their faces, fearing that the woman would hurt Y/N. But Y/N was quick to turn her head slightly and flash them a soft, reassuring smile.

"I’m okay." She murmured, her voice smooth as silk.

Despite the subtle struggle, Lany quickly realized she was outmatched. With little choice, the woman allowed herself to be led toward the stairs.

At the top of it, Paul, the boys' head security guard, and Y/N's favored, was already waiting. His expression flickered with concern as Y/N approached, his gaze scanning her for any sign of distress.

"Please escort her out. She’s done here." Y/N instructed, her tone neutral but firm.

Paul gave a curt nod, his grip solid as he took the woman from Y/N's hold, ignoring the way she tried to escape his hands.

"Understood."

Y/N took a deep breath, her shoulders rolling back as she released the last bit of tension from her muscles. Her gaze instinctively dropped down to the stage, where Matt was talking now. Her eyes were quick to meet Chris's figure, his brows slightly furrowed as he processed everything that had just happened.

Then, as if sensing her eyes on him, Chris glanced up. And when their gazes locked, she sent him a small, knowing smile - one only meant for him.

Chris exhaled, his posture finally easing, his fingers once again tracing the ink on his ankle as he prepared to finally watch the video carrying his surprise.

© vanteguccir

[dumbkiri]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒

χα∂єη яισяѕση χ ƒ! мαιяι! яєα∂єя

ρℓσт: second year at basgaith did not start out the way you wanted. xaden left you behind breaking his promise to you. luckily for you, some memories can be erased.

αηgѕт

ησтє: I changed up the timeline of events to fit this prompt. This is a reader insert, but you do have blue eyes. Just wanted to warn ya, but I need you to somewhat resemble Liam/Sloane. And yes, Sgaeyl enjoys your company :) Lenin is the offspring of Sgaeyl/Tairn cuz y not? and you have a cool ass signet...obviously this is made for fun! apologies for typos in names and shiii not proofread!

“I will never leave you behind.” 

That is what he promised you the year before Violet Sorrengail came into his life. Xaden Riorson hadn’t broken a commitment and you never thought he could. He trained you, made you stronger in the year you first joined Basgaith College. Then there were moments you two shared behind closed doors, moments you believed you could only have between each other. 

Then second year came around and you could not believe how fickle his resolution could become. His declaration of loyalty melted in the palm of her hands like she held onto him the entire time. Like she knew him all these years of creating the rebellion and rebuilding his home, your home. It didn’t matter that his life was tied to hers. No, that was an excuse. He got close to her and now people wouldn’t stop talking about how he ditched you for Violet. 

You did your best to laugh about the teasing remarks or smile at the reassurances your friends made. But they hurt more than anything because the truth lies within their words. 

With their pitiful looks, it felt like they told you, ‘Read between the lines, [Name]. He dropped you for silver. Time to move on.’

And to make matters worse? Xaden made your brother act as her bodyguard. You couldn’t even spend time with Liam because he was wrapped up in his duty of being Violet’s friend and protector. You’d hope that you would have time with Liam to catch up between all the letters you sent to him. Yet every time you tried to catch his attention, he would hug you with a grin then say ‘I’m sorry, but I’ll be back. I promise.’ He left you to go follow Violet like a puppy. 

Not only that, your best friend is also training her! You hadn’t had her by your side in what felt like forever. You usually wake up early to spar with Imogen, instead you have to deal with Garrick and his huge body. God, you felt so alone in your stupid room reminding you of their presence. Xaden’s shirts, Liam’s wooden figurine of Lenin and Imogen’s stupid training dummy. 

Everyone that spent time with you is now focused on Violet Sorrengail. 

“You are not alone, Dagger,” Lenin said, his voice washing over you like ocean waves, “You have me and I think this is the time to push further with your signet.” 

He is right, you have better things to focus on. You pushed yourself off your bed and sat yourself in the middle of the room. You closed your eyes and felt yourself leaving your dorm room. Turns out your signet isn’t really cloaking, it’s manipulating matter and energy. Cloaking works because you manipulate the speed of light to slow it down allowing you to force it around your body or other subjects. So when an outsider looks at you or the tested objects, they would have no idea of your presence. 

“You still have no idea how it works, do you?” The dagger on your nightstand vibrated with pure power waiting for you to tap into it. 

“I’m working on the explanation, okay,” You laughed in your old bedroom. Pushing yourself up from the carpeted floor, you walked over to the night stand and picked up the vibrating dagger. You wonder how your friends tap into their bond. How they picture their dragons. 

Lenin called you Dagger the moment he accepted you as his rider. It was a nice sentiment and better than most nicknames others receive. 

“It fits you,” Lenin hummed, “You killed that group with only a dagger and now you are unstoppable in any challenge you face. You give that oaf a run for his money.”

“Lenin, his name is Garrick and he’s a nice guy! An oaf is a crazy way to describe someone you met once!” You barked out, a giggle shaking your body with happiness.The dagger grew warmer in your hold and you gripped it tight. This is when your signet proved to be at its best, when you were happy. And Lenin knew this. 

“Try cloaking yourself then moving some objects around you, one at a time,” Lenin growled in warning, “We do not want you chucking me out the window again.” 

“Hey! That was by accident, besides Liam made another figurine of you! Can you imagine if the one of Sgaeyl was thrown out? Yeesh, you think she’d forget about me too?” 

 You sat back down in your previous spot and allowed yourself to focus on your breathing. Lenin hummed in your head, filling it with memories of your first flight with him. Honestly the best feeling after a storm is being reborn in the evening light with a dragon to call your protector. 

“My mother enjoys our flights out together, it’s a shame Shadow is preoccupied with whatever he does in the dark.” 

“Oh, I know! We can invite your mom to fly with us. We can go early tomorrow that way Xaden doesn’t know! What do you say to that?” 

The way Lenin hummed in satisfaction knew you made him happy with that suggestion. “She would love that, Dagger.” 

……

“Hey, [N.Name], you in here?” 

Imogen knocked twice on your bedroom door then waited for your response. Five beats of silence went by and she looked over her shoulder at the group with a raised eyebrow. 

“Seems like she’s out,” She removed her hand from the door knob and took one step back until Xaden’s gruff voice stopped her. 

“Open the door and we’ll see if she’s actually gone.” 

Imogen rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, “Alright, look. No offense to Violet, but [Name] will not be interested in training her. Especially when we…” The pink haired female moved her hand around lazily, hoping for Xaden and Liam to get the point without having to explain it right in front of Violet. 

“When you guys what?” Violet questioned looking at the three of them, confusion stapled onto her face. 

Xaden shook his head and said, “Doesn’t matter, right now Violet needs her help. Liam is here to convince her and you’re here to open her door.” 

Imogen never liked this idea in the first place. Talk about violating one’s privacy for another’s benefit. She just hoped you would forgive her when they all walked into your room uninvited. Imogen placed her hand on the handle and opened it up while holding her breath. 

She hadn’t seen you in awhile. Only briefly in classes then she had to go training with Violet. Yet her training wasn’t enough, Violet needed to get better with daggers. Xaden had the bright idea of asking the expert, Cloak and Dagger, to teach the silver-haired girl. Damn it, if only Imogen was a better teacher you wouldn’t have to be dealing with a pain like this. 

Watching your crush hover over another girl. 

Even Sgaeyl disapproved of Xaden’s choice. The blue dragon always had a liking for you and she would lean over you if someone got too close in the field. Now the female dragon has to deal with Violet Sorrengail and her weak nature. 

“I’m working on the explanation, okay?” 

Your bubbly laugh hit Imogen in the heart with a pang of guilt. She kind of forgot your laugh, but she couldn’t admit that to you. Imogen slowly walked in and watched you sit in the middle of the room with the dagger you earned from Garrick floating a foot just above your lap. 

Your eyes were closed which allowed her and the rest to walk into your room. Someone closed the door behind her, but Imogen’s eyes were glued onto you. How can you not get any cooler than this? 

The floating dagger spun a few times and you laughed again, “Lenin, his name is Garrick and he’s a nice guy! An oaf is a crazy way to describe someone you met once!” 

Liam coughed out a laugh and everyone turned their heads at him. He shrugged his shoulders and whispered, “I don’t think she can hear us. She explained before that when she taps into the bond with Lenin, a cloak is automatically draped over the both of them. Think of mega-shields.” 

“Hey!” You suddenly shouted making everyone freeze, then you said, “That was by accident, besides Liam made another figurine of you! Can you imagine if the one of Sgaeyl was thrown out? Yeesh, you think she’d forget about me too?” 

Imogen sighed out in relief, letting the breath she was holding out. Then anger flared her system up. Your words sunk in and she looked at Liam and Xaden, “This is exactly what I meant by what we did. We dropped her because of you.” She pointed at Xaden then moving her glare towards Violet, “I get it, you guys have mated dragons, but I don’t know what is going on with [Name]. She’s my best friend and ever since I’ve been stuck on training duty, I haven't known for a while what's going on and the only one who really keeps in contact with her is Garrick and Bodhi.” 

“[Name] knows that isn’t the truth,” Liam’s smile fell and he stepped up to Imogen, “She also knows how important it is to keep Violet alive. If she dies, Xaden dies. Do you know how important that is?” 

Imogen squared Liam up, ready to defend her best friend, you, “I do, but Violet’s survival relies on her now. A friend we all dropped since Violet bonded with Sgaeyl’s mate. How would you react if your friends, who forgot about you, barged into your room uninvited then asked for your help in training that girl? I don’t think you understand that your sister has feelings. Or did you forget about that too?” 

“Oh, I know! We can invite your mom to fly with us. We can go early tomorrow that way Xaden doesn’t know! What do you say to that?” You chirped and the dagger spun faster this time and you disappeared in a blink of an eye. Then small items around your dorm began floating one at a time. First it was Sgaeyl’s figurine on top of a shelf that floated, disappeared, reappeared then placed gently back in its place. Next it was one of Xaden’s shirts then your notebook. 

“Sgaeyl likes [Name]?” Violet piped up with genuine surprise. Yet the tense atmosphere flicked on like a light and the spinning dagger stopped moving. In a second, Violet swore, the dagger’s edge was pointed in her direction and it shot towards her. 

“Violet!” Andarna shouted.

“Silver One, get down!” Tairn ordered. 

Time slowed down and Violet forced herself to drop towards the floor. When she did, time resumed and the dagger embedded itself into the wall behind Violet meanwhile a wall of shadows rose up too late to protect her. 

“What. The. Hell!” You shouted, uncloaking yourself, and glaring at the people in your room. Your blue eyes flashing dangerously as you stood up and briskly walked over to the wall to retrieve your dagger. “I could have killed her! Killed you!” You spat while pulling the dagger out of the wall with ease. 

“What are you guys doing in my room?” You asked, frustrated that everyone is left stupified by what happened. 

“We,” Liam began looking at the hole made in the wall. You really could have ended four lives in one second. A second that Xaden reacted too late to save Violet. Liam helped Violet up and continued on, “We wanted to ask for your help. Violet needs expertise in challenges and she likes using daggers. I suggested that-” 

“Did you suggest or did Xaden tell you?” You asked, putting the dagger into the sheath at your hip. When Liam hesitated to answer you moved your attention to Imogen, “And you, you used your privilege to allow them into my room? I almost killed Violet, Imogen!” 

“[Name],” Imogen called out softly and she put her hand on your arm to calm you down, “I’m sorry, but Liam is right. Violet needs your help and I tried all that I could. You’re more skilled and patient than I am. Also yes, Xaden did tell us to do this.”

You closed your eyes and leveled out your breathing. 

“Lenin, they could have died. Your parents,” You reached out to him and he didn’t hesitate to reach back. 

“It’s okay, Dagger,” Lenin hummed, “Andarna saved Violet, you need not worry.” 

You opened up your eyes and sighed. You couldn’t forgive yourself if Lenin came to hate you. The only reason why you weren’t alone was because he stuck by your side. “I’m not interested in training duties. As you can tell, I’m busy working on my signet. It obviously needs work.” 

You turned your back on them and waved a dismissive hand at them, “You can walk yoruselves out.” They mumbled behind you and then the door closed right after. Yet you still felt his demanding authority. 

“Your signet isn’t cloaking, is it?” 

“Obviously not, Xaden,” You answered back, gathering some of his shirts in your arms. This was the perfect moment to return them since he spared some time to talk to you. For her. He was only here for her, you grimly reminded yourself. 

“I found out at the beginning of this year, you would have known if you asked how I was doing,” You were not at all ready to face him. Knowing that this could be your goodbye to him. He may have let you go, but you wanted to hold onto him a little longer. 

“I can manipulate light and matter,” You explained, keeping your eyes glued to the floor, clutching onto his shirts like a lifeline, “I can cloak multiple items and even Lenin despite his size. Right now, I’m messing around with the space surrounding objects to lift them up. I wanted to learn how to cloak other dragons like Sgaeyl or Deigh or Glane. But you guys are too busy. So I’m focusing on the levitating part of my signet.” 

“That’s incredible,” He said with unfeigned amazement.  

You couldn’t help, but agree with him. The smile on your face bringing back the dazzle in your blue eyes, “Right? I mean if I can cloak multiple dragons at once, imagine how any battle will go. Our enemies won’t know we’re coming and-” 

“I miss this girl,” Sgaeyl interrupted you and Xaden felt her pride rise, “Leninach knows exactly how to choose a strong rider. And I wouldn't mind flying with them again either.”

“Then tell your son to convince her to train Violet,” Xaden said, “You do that then we will fly with them.” 

“I’ll fly with them with or without you,” She growled. 

“-and I want to apologize for almost killing Violet. I didn’t recognize her voice.” You finished and looked into his dark eyes. 

Xaden tilted his head in a slight angle, “Liam did mention that you are blocked out from the world when you channel. But the moment Violet spoke, you threw the dagger her way. Tell me that wasn’t intentional.” 

You rolled your eyes and tossed his shirts at him which he caught effortlessly. “I told you I didn’t recognize her voice. And Liam is half-correct. When I channel, I feel this cold washing over my body like ocean waves. That’s the whole cloaking bit. He calls it mega-shields, leave it to my brother to come up with something corny.” 

You walked over to your bed and sat on the cushion of it. You brushed the ripples on your sheets away and said, “Regular shields block out anyone, friend or foe. Mega-shields block out my friends because when I channel I know I’m safe around them. So when I channel to use the levitating part of my signet, I’m left vulnerable. Which means I’m more perceptive of foes or people I don’t trust. Violet isn’t an enemy, but she certainly isn’t my friend either.” 

“You’d like her,” Xaden cut in, “She’s smart like you and she’s dealing with a group that is targeting her because she’s the general’s daughter and Tairn is her dragon.” He said it because he knew you’d relate to her. During your first year, a group targeted you because you were very close to Xaden and your dragon was the third largest dragon known. Yet unlike you, she didn’t kill the people that went after her. Not yet. 

You vividly remember the year of your Threshing. The way the fog clouded your vision, the rain washed the blood off your clothes. The first time you heard Lenin speak to you with pride. You killed six people with the dagger you earned from Garrick during challenges. But the seventh was saved for Lenin.

“She’s nothing like me,” Your bite was cold with truth, “I killed those that came for me during my Threshing. She let Jack Barlowe run away. I broke my opponents bones and sliced them up with my dagger in challenges, she poisoned them. I can mount my dragon despite his huge size and hold onto him while flying. I don’t need Lenin to hold me down with lesser magic.”

Xaden grabbed the chair at your desk and sat on it. He rested his forearms on his knees and leaned in with heavy shoulders. Yeah, you were right. Violet couldn’t even hold a candle to you, but his convincing needed…convincing. 

Xaden looked into your blue eyes in what felt like forever and his demeanor softened up. He remembered how well you tore down his walls even when you glared at him like that. You always had that effect on him and he missed it. He hadn’t been able to relax ever since Violet bonded with Tairn. Couldn’t walk past you without Sgaeyl snarling at him for his indifference. 

“[Name], please I don’t want to argue with you. I need you to do this. You’re the only one that can help her.”

“Wow, you got him to beg,” Lenin chuffed. 

You rolled your eyes and mulled about the idea of training Violet. Is it possible to train a fragile girl like her? The only thing she’s got going for her is her intelligence. So what? All you had to do was get her to manage her dagger skills as well or even better than you. 

“I’ll give her a week to pick up my technique,” You stood up from the bed and walked over to your door, “If she doesn’t learn at least some of it, she’s a lost cause, got it?” 

“A week,” Xaden agreed and he pushed himself off your chair. Then he stood right in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You reeled back from the action and said, “It was good to see you, Xaden.” 

You opened the door for him and gently pushed him out of your room. He nodded his head silently and let you lead him out. He missed the feeling of your hands on him and missed when you smiled at him. Xaden will admit his thoughts have been clouded by Violet for many reasons. 

I don’t think you understand that your sister has feelings.

Imogen’s shout at Liam from earlier echoed in his head. She was right, [Name] had every right to refuse them. Xaden neglected her feelings for him while also pushing his feelings for her away in the back of his mind. Now that his life was tethered to Violet’s he couldn't afford not to protect her with all he could. 

He expended his friends and family’s time to revolve around Violet. Now he was making you swallow a heavy pill by having you instructing the girl that took him from you. 

“So how did it go?” Liam asked when you closed your door on them, not even saying goodbye to him or Imogen. The action hurt Liam and Imogen, yet they did not try to argue with you. 

Xaden sighed and said, “Violet has one week to learn [Name]’s technique. If she doesn’t catch on to any of it, consider Violet a lost cause. Her words, not mine.” 

“Great,” Violet mumbled, not at all confident in her skill. 

……

When night came, Imogen struggled to fall asleep in her bed. Not even Glane’s words of reassurance helped her to get a wink of sleep. Instead Imogen spent her time glaring holes into her ceiling thinking about today’s events. 

The hurt and anger in your face plagued her mind. 

BAM! BAM!

Two heavy knocks rattled Imogen’s door and she shot up in her bed in alarm. She jumped out of her sheets when she heard Garrick on the other side of the door, voices rushed and drowned out on the other side. 

Imogen jogged over to her door and opened it up to spot Garrick and Bodhi looking at her worriedly. Then Garrick said, “You need to open [Name]’s door again. It’s an emergency.” 

The pink-haired girl followed her friends and asked, “What is going on? Is she okay?” 

Garrick shook his head, “Well if what she’s being accused of is true, then no. She will be in trouble.” 

Imogen looked down the dark hall and spotted Xaden pacing in front of your door with bloodied knuckles and shadows twisting haphazardly around the halls. She needed to know what happened. “Xaden, what is going on?” 

Xaden stopped pacing and pointed at your door, “Open it now.” 

Imogen didn’t hesitate this time, the fury in his voice moved her and she opened her friend’s bedroom door. Inside it was dark and when the mage light flicked on, your bed was empty and made. 

“She’s not here,” Imogen told the boys and she glared at them, “Now can one of you tell me what’s going on? Why the hell am I being woken up at the crack ass of dawn?” 

Xaden, obviously pissed, zoned out and everyone knew he was reaching out to Sgaeyl. 

Bodhi stepped up to speak and said, “Violet was attacked by the unbonded riders. She said that the one who wasn’t caught left the hallway like a shimmer. Like [Name]’s cloaked shimmer.” He looked at Imogen with nervousness like he sensed her anger. 

Imogen couldn’t believe it. She dragged the males into your warded room one by one. Then she closed the door behind her and yelled at them, full on shouting at their stupidity, “You have got to be kidding me! You guys really believe [Name] would let unbonded riders attack Violet? She just agreed to train her! You cannot be this fucking stupid!” 

Then she had to hit the nail on the coffin. Your cloak doesn’t shimmer anymore. It did when you first developed your signet, but when Xaden encouraged you to get rid of that shimmer you achieved that goal in two months. How could the guys forget this? It’s like after all this distance they put between them and you made them forget how your signet works!

“Her cloak doesn’t shimmer, dumbasses!” 

But Xaden was out the door already, his hands clenched up in his frustration. 

“Where are you going?” Garrick called out to him. 

“To the flight field,” Xaden responded, his steps heavy with determination to get your truth. 

……

You stretched your limbs after dismounting Lenin with a smile on your face, looking at the two dragons before you. Your bright blue eyes landed on the blue dragon and you bowed your head, “Thank you Sgaeyl for joining us. I know that after Xaden stopped hanging out with me, we don’t go on our flights anymore.” 

Sgaeyl leaned down and huffed into your face, a sign of acceptance. 

“She says ‘I look forward to early flights with you now’,” Lenin chuffed. 

You reached your hand out to the blue dragon and avoided eye contact with her. You waited for her to boop your palm with her snout and after a few seconds she indulged in your request. The grin on your face washed away the moment you heard Xaden shout at you. 

“Back the hell away from Sgaeyl!” 

In surprise you turned around and watched Xaden in his flight jacket and uniform make his way towards you. Angry didn’t even begin to describe Xaden, he was beyond pissed and it was directed at you. Was he seriously mad that you went out flying with Sgaeyl and Lenin? 

“Lenin, what happened?” You asked your dragon, taking one step backwards into his warm chest. 

“The Silver One was attacked,” Lenin answered. 

He snarled and leaned his neck down, guarding you from Xaden’s line of sight. 

“You are agitating Lenin,” Sgaeyl warned Xaden. 

Xaden stopped a few feet away from the pair of dragons and took a deep breath in. Upsetting a blue dragon is not on his bucket list. Neither was threatening a black dragon’s rider. 

So he started off slowly, “Did you let unbonded riders in Violet’s room?” 

You owlishly blinked behind Lenin’s cover and scoffed. You just came back from flying and he’s asking you about such a thing. An action like this is damaging for your reputation, to your friends and squad. Walking away from Lenin’s protection, you made your way to Xaden to stand in front of him. “You seriously asking me that question? Why would I let unbonded riders into her room? The only way they can bond to Tairn is if she dies, but newsflash Xaden, Tairn and Sgaeyl will die if she does!”

“She said that one got away and that they left with a shimmer, only your cloak shimmers,” He growled out. Then he grabbed you by your shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh, “Don’t tell me that your jealousy got the best of you that you had to kill Violet. Tell me you aren’t that petty to kill her, us, or me!” 

Did he truly believe that jealousy could be your motive to kill Violet Sorrengail? Hell if it was, you would have done so long ago. But you weren’t that shallow. You ignored Violet like the plague, didn’t bother to get to know her because it physically hurt you. The girl that captured Xaden’s attention in one second undid all the work you did in years to get him to notice you. 

Finally when it was happening, when he called you yours, Violet came in like the storm she was. Uprooting your friends and family. 

“My cloak doesn't shimmer anymore, Xaden,” You said dejectedly, you didn’t have the energy to fight him right now. To explain that your cloak stopped shimmering two months after your signet popped up. “I may be jealous of her, but I’m not the one who broke a promise. I may hate her for stealing my friends and family, but I wouldn’t kill her out of spite. I just told you yesterday that I was willing to put my differences aside and train her. 

“Then why did she describe your cloak?” His hands fell away from your arms, the warmth gone in a breeze. 

You shoved your goggles in your flight jacket and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, but I was flying out with Sgaeyl and Lenin. They can vouch for me, we’ve been flying out for hours. 

“It’s true, we were gone long before the girl was attacked,” Sgaeyl confirmed. 

“I hope you find the true culprit,” You walked past him and to the direction of the college. Your shoulders are heavy with the realization that he will always choose her over you. Whether it stems from his growing need for her or keeping her alive, it didn’t matter anymore. He broke the promise and left you behind.  

“[Name], where are you going? I’m not done asking questions,” Xaden turned around, but you kept on walking. 

“I’m going to forget this conversation ever happened,” You declared with certainty. And one person can help you with that, you just hope she’s awake. 

……

When you walked into your room, mentally drained from the conversation with Xaden, you were caught off guard by Imogen’s presence. Her right leg bobbed up and down as if she was waiting for you to arrive. This made the trip to her way easier, the walk of shame was going to be very painful if you did walk towards her room. 

“Imogen?” Your soft voice awoke her from her trance and she jumped up from your chair with a sigh of relief. 

“Finally, you’re back,” She jogged over to you and embraced you in a tight hug. Okay, Imogen rarely hugs you and this one felt like she needed it. “I was so worried when everyone started pointing fingers at you for letting unbonded riders into Violet’s room. But I knew it wasn’t you, your cloak doesn’t shimmer anymore.” 

You huffed out with a grimace, “I’m glad one of my friends remembers that it doesn’t. Anyways can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything,” Imogen breathed out and pulled back with a smile. 

You nodded your head and said, “Erase my memories. I need to forget that Xaden just accused me of endangering his girlfriend.” Not that they are dating just yet, but it wouldn’t take long for them to develop feelings for one another. 

“But if I do that-” 

“If he wants me to train Violet, I need to forget this morning,” You pleaded with her, grabbing her hand and forcing her palm to touch your cold forehead, “Imogen, please. I cannot look at Violet knowing she accused me of something so horrid then Xaden blaming me for it. Do this for me.” 

“Okay,” Imogen reluctantly agreed. She watched your tears fall down your face and you smiled at her hopefully. 

“Thank you.”  

You wished Imogen could erase more than the conversation. You wanted her to erase all your feelings for Xaden Riorson. 

Forget his hands roaming your body and the kisses he left in his wake. Forget the way he said your name with adoration and the way he stared into your eyes with longing. 

Because you could train Violet with ease if you held no feelings for Xaden. But hey, not everyone can have what they want. This is a lesson for you and hopefully Xaden will finally remember how much you mean to him. 

Soon, it will happen. A feeling so deep in the pit of your stomach made you believe that. 

[sh4rk-k1d]

i wanna see an twst au where MC comes from a world where the purge is real and randomly lore drops it like

mc: oh yeah i almost got killed when a guy tried to chainsaw my stomach open but i escaped :)

twst boys: WHAT

[jhyoos]

Of Roses and Steel

chapter seven : my castle

knight sevika x queen reader

mentions : sevika v ambessa, violence, mentions of blood, bad ass reader, caitvi, major character death, romance

notes: mixed emotions this chapter

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The snowfall thickened as you and your army pressed forward, each flake swirling violently in the harsh winter wind. The castle loomed ahead, an ominous silhouette against the storm-darkened sky. The usual sounds of distant life—guards pacing the walls, soldiers calling to one another—were absent. It was too quiet. The kind of quiet that meant nothing but trouble.

Your grip tightened around your reins as your horse trudged through the thickening snow. The cold bit at your exposed skin, but you barely noticed. Your mind was elsewhere—on the battle ahead, on the blood that would soon stain the ground, and on the weight of everything that had led you to this moment.

Eros had left after Mel’s death, disappearing back into the forest without hesitation. You had known he would go eventually; he was a wild creature, not meant to stay by your side forever. But saying goodbye still felt like losing a part of yourself. He had outgrown the life you could give him, needing space to hunt, to roam free. It was selfish to ask him to stay, even if every part of you wanted to. As he vanished into the trees, you whispered a silent promise to yourself—no matter how far he roamed, he would always be your best friend.

Jinx had worked tirelessly, gathering the materials she needed to craft her explosives. The stolen Noxian bombs from the camp had been a gift from the gods, cutting down her work significantly. By the time you reached the castle, every cart and satchel was packed with carefully assembled explosives, ready to tear through stone and steel. She had been ecstatic, humming to herself as she secured the last of them, her fingers twitching with excitement. But beneath the energy, you could see the tension in her shoulders—the understanding that this wasn’t just another game.

As you rode on, Sevika kept glancing back at you. She never spoke a word, but her eyes said enough. She was waiting for you to change your mind, to turn back before it was too late. The unspoken question lingered in the air between you: Are you sure about this?

But you had already made your choice.

There was no turning back now. Not when you were this close. Not when Ambessa’s reign of terror had already taken so much.

The finish line was within reach, and you would see this through to the end—no matter the cost.

The wind howled as you urged your horse forward, your army pressing on behind you. The castle’s towering walls loomed closer, their stone surfaces slick with ice, dark banners bearing Ambessa’s crest barely visible through the thick snowfall. The silence was suffocating. There were no watchmen shouting from the battlements, no soldiers patrolling the gates—only the eerie stillness of a battlefield waiting to be claimed.

Sevika pulled her horse alongside yours, her brows furrowed in suspicion. “This doesn’t sit right,” she muttered, scanning the area. “Where are the guards?”

Your fingers twitched against your sword’s hilt. “Maybe they know we’re coming,” you murmured. “Maybe they want us to walk right in.”

Jinx snorted from behind you. “Oh, that’d be a dream come true,” she said, patting the satchel of explosives slung over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t mind blowing up a welcome party.”

But the lack of resistance only made the tension worse. The castle was a fortress—there should have been some kind of defense, some sign that Ambessa’s forces were still inside. But instead, the gates stood eerily open, the path leading inward dark and foreboding.

Your army halted at the castle’s entrance. The soldiers murmured amongst themselves, shifting uneasily in their saddles. You turned to them, your voice firm. “We don’t know what we’re walking into. Stay together, stay alert. If this is a trap, we’ll spring it on them first.”

Sevika nodded in approval before dismounting, her hand on the hilt of her sword as she took the first step forward. You followed, leading your forces through the towering gates and into the castle’s courtyard.

The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and steel. There were signs of a struggle—blood smeared across the stone, shattered weapons left abandoned—but no bodies.

“Where the hell is everyone?” one of the soldiers muttered.

Jinx scanned the area, her eyes sharp. “They were here not long ago.” She knelt down, dragging her fingers through the fresh blood pooled along the cracks in the stone. “Somebody cleaned up, but not well enough.”

You exchanged a glance with Sevika, your unease growing. This wasn’t just an empty castle. This was bait.

A sudden gust of wind slammed the main doors shut behind you.

Then, the first arrow came flying.

It struck one of your soldiers in the throat before he could even react, his body crumpling to the ground.

“AMBUSH!” Sevika roared, drawing her sword as Noxian soldiers emerged from the shadows—hidden behind pillars, archways, and the castle’s high walls. They had been waiting for you.

You barely had time to draw your own weapon before the battlefield exploded into chaos. The clash of steel rang through the air as your soldiers met the enemy head-on. Jinx had already disappeared into the fray, likely working her way toward a vantage point.

A Noxian warrior lunged at you, his blade slicing through the air. You dodged, countering with a swift strike that cut through his armor, sending him stumbling backward. Another came from your left, but before he could reach you, Sevika drove her sword through his chest, shoving him aside like dead weight.

“Stick to the plan!” you shouted over the chaos. “Jinx—get those bombs in place!”

Jinx’s laughter echoed from above. “Already on it, sweetheart!”

Explosions rocked the castle’s walls, flames licking up the stone as the first of Jinx’s bombs went off. The Noxians faltered, momentarily thrown off by the sudden blasts.

You took the opening, cutting through another soldier before pushing forward. You needed to get inside—to find Ambessa and end this once and for all.

Sevika was already at your side, fighting off enemies as you carved a path toward the castle’s main hall. The entrance loomed ahead, firelight flickering behind its iron doors.

And then, through the chaos, you saw her.

Ambessa stood at the top of the stairs, watching the battle unfold with a calculating gaze. She didn’t flinch at the carnage, didn’t even seem surprised that you had made it this far.

She smirked.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it,” she called out.

Rage boiled in your chest.

This was it.

The final battle had begun.

You tightened your grip on your sword, your breath coming in sharp bursts as the battlefield raged around you. Ambessa stood at the top of the stairs like a queen surveying her domain, clad in thick Noxian armor that gleamed even through the thick snowfall. Her smirk was infuriating, her confidence unshaken despite the chaos unfolding beneath her feet.

Sevika took a step closer to you, her blade dripping with fresh blood. “She’s waiting for us,” she muttered, voice low but edged with urgency. “She wants us to come to her.”

“She’ll get what she wants,” you said through clenched teeth.

Jinx’s explosions continued to erupt around the courtyard, throwing Noxian soldiers off balance and creating openings for your forces. The tide of battle swayed back and forth like a deadly dance, but you didn’t care about the rest of it now. The only thing that mattered was the woman standing above you.

You moved first.

Breaking into a sprint, you carved through the battlefield, cutting down anyone foolish enough to stand in your way. Sevika was right behind you, taking out soldiers with heavy, brutal swings. Jinx’s laughter echoed somewhere in the background, but it was drowned out by the roar of the battle and the pounding of your heartbeat.

Ambessa waited patiently, her hands resting on the hilt of her massive sword, her expression almost amused. It wasn’t until you were nearly at the steps that she finally moved.

With a single step forward, she drew her blade, its enormous size making your own weapon seem almost insignificant. “Come then,” she said, her voice carrying over the battlefield. “Let’s see if you’ve earned the right to stand against me.”

You didn’t hesitate.

The clash of metal rang through the courtyard as your sword met hers. The sheer force of her strike nearly sent you to your knees, but you held firm, pushing back with everything you had. Sparks flew as you struggled against her strength, her smirk never faltering.

She shoved you back with terrifying ease. “You’re just as beautiful as your mother,” she mused, rolling her shoulders as if this was nothing more than a warm-up. “Let’s see if you die like her.”

You barely had time to regain your footing before she lunged again. This time, you dodged, barely avoiding the downward arc of her blade as it slammed into the stone, cracking it beneath her sheer power.

Sevika took her chance, attacking from the side with a heavy swing. Ambessa turned, deflecting the blow with ease, her movements precise and controlled. She pivoted, driving her elbow into Sevika’s ribs before kicking her away with a brutal force that sent her sprawling.

You gritted your teeth, slashing at her exposed side, but she twisted at the last second, your blade only grazing her armor.

Ambessa’s counterattack came fast. She swung at you with devastating strength, and though you managed to block, the impact sent shockwaves through your arms.

She was toying with you.

Your anger flared, and you surged forward again, feinting left before striking at her right. This time, your blade found its mark, slicing into the exposed flesh of her upper arm. Blood stained the snow, and for the first time, Ambessa’s smirk faded.

But instead of anger, there was something else in her eyes.

Amusement.

“Good,” she said, rolling her shoulder. “Very good.”

Then she struck harder.

Her next blow knocked you off your feet, your sword flying from your grasp. You hit the ground hard, your breath torn from your lungs. Above you, Ambessa raised her blade, prepared to end it in one clean stroke.

“NO!”

A blur of movement. Jinx.

The explosion came a second later.

Ambessa barely had time to react before the bomb detonated at her feet, sending her staggering backward in a cloud of fire and smoke. The blast rocked the ground, and for a moment, everything was disoriented—the ringing in your ears drowning out the battle, the thick smoke clouding your vision.

A hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

“Come on, we’re not done yet!” Jinx shouted, eyes wild with adrenaline.

You shook off the daze, your gaze snapping back to Ambessa as she emerged from the smoke. She was injured now, her armor scorched, blood dripping from a fresh wound on her temple. But she was still standing.

Still smiling.

“Is that all you have?” she taunted, wiping blood from her face.

Your fingers curled around your sword as you picked it back up.

This wasn’t over.

Not yet.

You looked over at Jinx, who was still gripping your wrist tightly, her fingers digging into your skin as if she could physically hold you back. Her wide blue eyes were filled with something rare—concern.

“Check on Sevika. I got this,” you said, voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs.

Jinx, for once, didn’t listen. She shook her head, her grip tightening. “No. You don’t,” she insisted, her voice unusually serious.

“I said go get Sevika, Jinx!” you barked, yanking your wrist free from her grasp. Jinx flinched, her jaw tightening as she stared at you for a moment longer. Then, with a frustrated scoff, she turned and sprinted toward where Sevika had fallen.

With Jinx gone, your attention snapped back to Ambessa. She was watching you, that ever-present smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. But you wanted to wipe it off her face.

"You just keep coming back…" you said, taking a step forward. "Just like your daughter."

The smirk twitched.

“I made sure she died,” you continued, voice dripping with venom. “I have her head as proof.”

For the first time since the fight began, something shifted in Ambessa. The arrogance, the amusement—it all drained from her face in an instant, replaced by something darker.

Rage.

Her eyes burned as her fingers clenched around the hilt of her sword. Then, without hesitation, she let out a roar and charged.

You barely had time to react before she was upon you, her massive blade swinging down with deadly precision. You threw yourself to the side, the steel missing you by inches as it slammed into the ground, carving deep into the frozen earth.

Ambessa didn’t let up. She ripped her sword free, pivoting on her heel and coming at you again with terrifying speed. You ducked just in time, feeling the blade whistle past your head. Snow kicked up around you as you rolled out of the way, scrambling to your feet.

But she was relentless.

She swung again, this time aiming for your midsection. You barely managed to parry, but the sheer force of her attack sent you skidding backward. The impact rattled through your arms, nearly numbing your hands.

"You should have stayed dead," Ambessa growled, her voice thick with fury.

You spat onto the bloodstained snow, tightening your grip on your weapon.

"I’ll never die," you shot back.

Ambessa let out another furious roar and lunged again.

This time, you were ready.

Another explosion rocked the battlefield, this one more violent than the last. The force of it sent shockwaves through the ground, shaking the very foundation beneath your feet. The platform you stood on cracked with a sickening snap before it completely gave way.

You barely had time to react before you were plummeting, the world tilting as you fell. The impact was brutal. You hit the frozen ground with bone-rattling force, the breath ripped from your lungs as sharp pain erupted through your side. You knew instantly—something was broken. A few ribs, at least.

Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to move, but before you could even try to stand, a heavy boot came crashing down onto your chest, pinning you in place. A sharp, searing pain shot through your ribs, and you let out a hiss, glaring up at the towering figure above you.

Ambessa.

She loomed over you, her expression carved from stone, but her eyes burned with pure, unfiltered rage. Her breathing was heavy, controlled, but you could see the storm raging beneath. You had hit a nerve.

“Don’t take it too harshly,” you wheezed, forcing a smirk despite the pain clawing at your body. “It was an eye for an eye.”

Ambessa’s jaw tightened. Her grip on her sword flexed as she gazed down at you. “That mouth of yours is what caused this death.”

With that, she lifted her blade, aiming to bring it down in one swift, final strike.

Before the sword could fall, a blur of movement slammed into her, knocking her clean off of you. The force sent her stumbling backward, her weapon clattering to the ground.

Vander.

He tackled her with all his strength, his broad form colliding with hers like a wrecking ball. They hit the ground hard, rolling through the snow in a brutal tangle of limbs and fists. Vander wasted no time. His fists crashed against Ambessa’s face, his knuckles stained red as he fought with raw, unyielding fury.

You coughed, each breath stabbing through your ribs like a blade, but you forced yourself to move. Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself up, your vision swimming as you clutched your aching side. You needed to act—now.

With a groan of pain, you reached for your bow, wincing as the movement sent fresh waves of agony through your body. Every second felt like an eternity as you fumbled to pull an arrow from your bag. Your fingers wrapped around the shaft, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you forced yourself to focus.

Ambessa had managed to shove Vander off, her strength unmatched even as blood dripped from her split lip. She was reaching for her sword.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you raised your bow, the strain in your ribs nearly unbearable. You pulled back the string, your arms shaking as you lined up your shot. The pain blurred your vision, but you ignored it.

And then, you let go.

The arrow sliced through the air with deadly precision, striking Ambessa’s arm just as she reached for her blade. She let out a sharp grunt, the force of the impact making her stagger. Blood bloomed against the fabric of her sleeve as she snarled, turning to glare at you with murderous fury.

Ambessa’s growl of pain was low and guttural, her eyes locking onto you with a murderous glare. The arrow had buried itself deep into her upper arm, making her momentarily falter, but she was far from finished. Even wounded, she was still a force to be reckoned with.

Vander took the opening without hesitation. He drove his fist into her jaw with a thunderous crack, sending her reeling backward. But Ambessa was quick—too quick. She twisted with the blow, using its momentum to bring her elbow crashing into Vander’s ribs. He grunted in pain, staggering, but he didn’t go down.

You exhaled sharply, gripping your side as you forced yourself to move. Every step was agony, but you ignored it, notching another arrow despite your shaking hands.

Ambessa snarled, ripping the arrow from her arm with nothing but sheer brute force. Blood dripped from the wound, staining the snow beneath her, but she barely acknowledged it.

“You think this is over?” she spat, her voice rough but unwavering. She flicked the broken arrow to the ground, eyes blazing as she turned back toward you.

You didn’t flinch.

“It ends tonight,” you said, your voice strained but steady.

Ambessa let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Then come, child,” she taunted, raising her fists. “Let’s finish what we started.”

But before you could make a move, another explosion detonated in the distance, shaking the battlefield once more. The sky lit up in a fiery glow as Jinx’s bombs tore through the outer walls of the castle. The shockwave sent ice and debris flying through the air, forcing everyone to brace themselves.

Vander cursed under his breath, shielding his face from the blast, while you instinctively staggered back.

Ambessa, however, didn’t retreat. She charged.

You barely had time to react before she was on you.

Her hand closed around your throat, her grip like iron as she slammed you into the nearest pile of rubble. Pain flared through your back, your vision momentarily blacking out from the impact. You clawed at her wrist, gasping for air as she pressed down harder.

“Your arrogance will be your downfall,” she growled, eyes filled with fury. “Just like your father’s.”

The mention of him sent a fresh surge of rage through you. Gritting your teeth, you reached down, fumbling for the dagger strapped to your hip.

Ambessa saw it too late.

With a desperate lunge, you drove the blade into her side.

She let out a sharp hiss, her grip loosening just enough for you to break free. Gasping, you staggered forward, coughing as you sucked in a painful breath.

Ambessa clutched the wound, but she didn’t fall. If anything, she looked more enraged than before.

Vander stepped between you both, his stance firm. “Enough,” he barked.

But Ambessa wasn’t listening.

She pulled the dagger from her side and tossed it away, cracking her neck as she advanced once more.

You tightened your grip on your bow.

Ambessa lunged.

You barely had time to react as she swung her fist at you, her raw strength forcing you back. Your ribs screamed in protest, but you swallowed the pain, dodging just as her second strike came crashing down. The force of her blows cracked the frozen ground beneath you.

Vander tried to intercept her again, but Ambessa shoved him aside with brutal efficiency, her focus locked solely on you. Ambessa’s shove sent Vander sprawling to the side, his body hitting the ground with a harsh thud. He groaned but didn’t get back up. It was just you and her now.

You barely had time to breathe before she was on you again. Ambessa moved with terrifying speed for someone of her size, her fists swinging with enough force to break bone. You dodged the first hit by a hair’s breadth, the air whistling as it cut past your face, but the second punch slammed into your ribs.

A sickening crack echoed through the battlefield.

You choked on your own breath, pain splintering through your body. Your knees buckled, and you staggered back, clutching your side. Ambessa didn’t give you a moment to recover.

A powerful kick slammed into your stomach, sending you flying backward. You hit the frozen ground hard, skidding across the ice and snow. Blood filled your mouth as you gasped for air, your vision blurring. You tried to push yourself up, but Ambessa was already looming over you, her expression dark and merciless.

“You’ve lost,” she said, her voice like steel.

She raised her foot and stomped down on your chest. Agony erupted through you as you let out a strangled cry. You could feel something shifting painfully inside—another broken rib, maybe more.

Ambessa leaned down, her weight pressing harder on you, making it nearly impossible to breathe. “You thought you could stand against me? You are nothing compared to real warriors. Compared to me.”

Your vision was tunneling. Black spots danced across your sight, and your limbs felt like they were filled with lead.

This was it. You were going to die.

But something inside you refused.

Gritting your teeth, you ignored the searing pain and moved.

With all the strength you had left, you reached down to your belt, fingers wrapping around the handle of a dagger. Before Ambessa could react, you slashed at her calf, cutting deep.

She roared in pain, stumbling back just enough for her foot to lift off your chest. You sucked in a desperate breath and rolled away, pushing yourself to your feet despite the agony wracking your body.

Ambessa’s glare was murderous. She lunged at you again, her arms outstretched to grab you, but you used your smaller size to your advantage. You ducked under her grasp, spinning around her as you grabbed another dagger from your belt.

She turned, swinging wildly, and her fist connected with your cheek.

Stars exploded behind your eyes, and you crashed onto the snow, dazed. The cold seeped into your bones, but you forced yourself to move, to keep fighting.

Ambessa grabbed you by the collar, hauling you up with ease. “Stay down!” she snarled, throwing you against a broken pillar. The impact rattled every part of you, and for a moment, all you could do was cough up blood.

You were losing.

As the pain coursed through your battered body, your vision blurred, and for a brief moment, the battlefield faded away. You weren’t in the middle of a war anymore. You were back in the underground hideout, years ago, standing across from Silco in the dimly lit training room.

He circled you, a wooden sword in hand, his mismatched eyes locked onto yours with that calculating sharpness he always had. You were younger then—still reckless, still learning. And frustrated.

“I can’t do this,” you had muttered, gripping your training blade so tightly your knuckles turned white. Your muscles ached from endless hours of sparring, and your body was covered in bruises from every time he knocked you down. “I’ll never be strong enough.”

Your father had merely tilted his head, unimpressed. “Oh?” He strode forward, swinging his blade, and you barely managed to block it. The force sent you stumbling back, your feet barely steadying in time to avoid falling. “If you believe that, then you’ve already lost.”

You huffed, sweat dripping from your brow. “You’re twice my size.”

He chuckled, amused. “Then stop fighting like you are my size.” Silco lowered his sword slightly and stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “Strength is more than muscle. It’s your mind, your will, your ability to find an opening when all seems lost.” He tapped the side of his head. “The moment you let despair win, you die.”

You swallowed hard, looking away.

But Silco wasn’t finished. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, making you meet his gaze again. For once, there was no condescension—just certainty. “You are not weak, my rose,” he said, voice low, steady. “You’ve survived things that would have broken most people. You have a fire inside you—one that refuses to die, no matter how many times you fall.” His fingers tightened slightly. “Get up. And fight.”

The memory crashed into you like a wave, and suddenly, you were back in the present. Back in the freezing snow, your body screaming in pain, Ambessa Medarda standing over you, her sword raised for the final strike.

But Your father’s voice still echoed in your head.

"Get up. And fight."

Something inside you snapped.

A sharp, desperate breath filled your lungs, and with the last of your strength, you moved.

And that was all you needed.

Ambessa stalked toward you, her broad shoulders casting a shadow over your broken body. You could barely keep yourself upright, but you tightened your grip on your daggers.

She reached for you—

And you struck.

With a burst of final, desperate strength, you lunged forward, driving one dagger deep into her throat.

Ambessa’s eyes widened.

Her hands shot up to grab you, but you were faster. With a guttural cry, you twisted the blade and plunged the second dagger into the other side of her throat, cutting through muscle and windpipe.

She gasped—a wet, choking sound—as blood gushed from the wounds.

You grabbed the front of her armor, forcing her to look at you as she struggled for breath.

“Look at me as you die, Medarda,” you snarled, your voice shaking with rage and exhaustion.

Ambessa trembled, her hands gripping at the daggers, but it was already over. The strength left her body, and she fell to her knees before finally collapsing into the snow.

Dead.

You swayed on your feet, every part of you screaming in agony. Your hands were covered in her blood. Your chest burned with every breath. But you were still standing.

Barely.

Your legs gave out, and you sank to the ground, panting heavily as the world around you blurred. The battle was still raging in the distance, but for this moment, all you could do was stare at Ambessa’s lifeless body.

You had won.

But at what cost?

The battlefield was eerily silent as you stepped forward, the cold wind biting at your skin as the weight of what had just transpired settled on your shoulders. The once-deafening sounds of clashing steel, war cries, and dying screams had faded into a tense quiet. Snow, now mixed with blood, blanketed the ground beneath your boots as you moved with purpose, your breathing ragged but steady.

Vander groaned as you helped him up, his weight heavy against you. His face was bloodied, his body battered, but he was alive. You guided him toward a piece of rubble and eased him down, making sure he could sit upright. “You good?” you asked, voice hoarse. Vander huffed a breath, wincing but nodding. “I��ll live,” he muttered, offering you a half-smirk despite the pain.

You gave a small nod before turning away, your eyes locking onto the lifeless body of Ambessa Medarda. The once-mighty warlord lay in a pool of crimson, her formidable presence reduced to nothing but a corpse. Her armor was cracked, her sword lay discarded, and the fight that had once burned in her eyes was extinguished.

Stepping over her, you reached down and grasped the heavy metal faceplate that had adorned her helmet. It was dented from battle, smeared with blood—both hers and your own. You gripped it tightly, feeling the weight of it in your palm as you turned toward the castle.

The battle still raged on near the entrance, Noxian soldiers and Zaunites locked in combat. But you didn’t hesitate. With every painful step, you moved forward, fueled by something far greater than pain.

Then, you shouted.

“Your leader is dead!”

Your voice rang out, cutting through the chaos like a blade. It echoed through the battlefield, and slowly—one by one—the fighting ceased. Swords were lowered. Guns were stilled. Breathless soldiers turned to look at you, their eyes wide as the realization set in.

With a final motion, you lifted Ambessa’s armor piece high for all to see—before throwing it down into the middle of the rubble. It landed with a dull clang, a single, undeniable symbol of victory.

The Noxians stared at it. At her crest. At the blood that stained it. Some exchanged uneasy glances. Others stood frozen in disbelief.

And then, one by one, their weapons dropped to the ground.

The war was over.

Your body swayed, unsteady, as the weight of your injuries bore down on you. Every inch of you ached, your ribs screaming in agony with each shallow breath. The world around you blurred, the sounds of victory fading into a distant hum. Your vision darkened at the edges, your legs giving out beneath you.

Just as you were about to collapse, strong arms caught you, preventing you from hitting the bloodstained ground. A familiar grip held you firm, keeping you upright even as your knees buckled. You blinked through the haze, your gaze struggling to focus on the person holding you.

Vi.

Her face was tight with worry, her hands gripping you securely. “I got you,” she murmured, her voice unusually soft.

Caitlyn appeared beside her, quickly slipping an arm around you as well, helping Vi support your weight. Her brows were furrowed, eyes scanning your battered form with concern. “You’re barely standing,” she noted, glancing at Vi before focusing back on you.

Despite the searing pain, you forced yourself to speak. “Is… everyone okay?” Your voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

Vi huffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, but let’s worry about you, okay?” Her tone was light, but you could hear the tension underneath it, the unspoken fear.

You tried to answer, to reassure them, but exhaustion crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your body refused to fight anymore. The world around you tilted, the light dimming as your eyelids grew impossibly heavy.

The last thing you heard was Vi calling your name, Caitlyn tightening her grip.

Then, everything went black.

When you woke up, the scent of fresh linen and burning firewood filled your senses, a stark contrast to the battlefield’s blood and smoke. The air was warm, wrapping around you like a thick blanket, and for the first time in weeks, you felt comfort—not the rough terrain beneath your body, not the cold steel of armor digging into your ribs, but actual comfort. The mattress was plush, the sheets smooth against your skin, and as you shifted slightly, you felt the dull, persistent ache of your broken ribs and the throbbing sting in your head.

Your eyes wandered, taking in the unfamiliar yet elegant surroundings. The room was spacious, finely decorated with heavy curtains, golden candle sconces, and an ornate mirror built into the wall beside you. It was only when you caught your own reflection that reality hit you.

You looked awful.

Scratches marred your skin, a deep gash slit through your eyebrow, and your bottom lip was swollen and split. The bruises painted across your body told stories of the battle you had fought—of every punch, every fall, every blade that had nearly ended you. You sighed, looking away just as the door creaked open.

Jinx strolled in first, her signature smirk in place, followed by Vi, who stood with her arms crossed. Jinx plopped down at the edge of the bed dramatically, kicking her feet up.

“Your majesty,” she teased, grinning.

You exhaled a small laugh, shaking your head. “Where are we?”

Vi leaned against the wall, her expression softer than usual. “A noble offered us this mansion to recover in. It’s yours to use as a temporary home while your castle is being rebuilt.”

Your castle. The weight of it settled on you. Your home—destroyed, burned, reduced to rubble in the war you had just fought. It was a victory, but at what cost?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden realization. “Where’s Sevika?” you demanded, sitting up too quickly, pain flaring through your ribs.

Jinx hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck. “When I threw that bomb… she took a big hit. Honestly, the only thing that kept her from being completely torn apart was her mechanical arm. It blocked most of the impact. She’s pretty messed up, but she’s alive. No limbs missing, if that helps.”

Your heart clenched, but you nodded. “It’s okay. She’s alive. That’s all that matters.” You met Jinx’s gaze, sincerity in your tone. “And you were just trying to protect me. I don’t blame you.”

Jinx gave a small smile, though she still seemed tense.

“Help me up,” you said, gripping the blanket as you prepared yourself for the pain of moving.

Vi immediately stepped forward, her strong hands wrapping around your arms, lifting you gently. You winced as you stood, your ribs protesting every movement, but you forced yourself forward.

The hallways were filled with people—soldiers, townspeople—some familiar, some strangers, but all of them weary from battle. They whispered as you passed, nodding respectfully, their faces a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

Jinx led the way to a quiet room at the end of the hall, pushing open the door to reveal Sevika lying motionless on the bed.

A maid was tending to her, wiping down her face and arms with a damp cloth. Her mechanical arm rested beside her, slightly dented from the explosion. Despite the bruises and bandages covering her body, her breathing was steady, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.

Vi helped you into a chair beside the bed before glancing at the others. “Let’s give them some time.” She signaled to Jinx and the maid, and without argument, they stepped out, closing the door behind them.

Silence settled over the room as you stared at Sevika.

She looked different like this—vulnerable, quiet, no scowl or sharp glare on her face. Just stillness. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before running your fingers through her dark, tangled hair.

“My love,” you whispered.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before resting yours against hers. The warmth of her skin grounded you, reminded you that she was still here, still breathing, still fighting.

“Wake up soon,” you murmured, your fingers brushing through her hair. “I need you.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the moment, in the sound of her soft breaths, in the quiet reassurance that despite everything—you both survived.

taglist (my shaylas) : @tinycherry0 @thesecondhandwoman @abbysleftbicepp @artfairyyyyy @bunninel @furrytaesss @savedforlaterr @veladeangl @5t4r1i9ht @imheadintothemountains @adora-moonshine @sevikasrightboob @80saturn @littlerainsprite @runawaybaby3 @rhian88 @athena-winters13

[hellaarknight]

Reading "Death is the only option for the villainess" got me thinking.

So, I do love the dynamic of Chuuya with a s/o who's all cutesy and gentle and everything he thinks he's not. A s/o who needs protection, who always thinks about others, introverted, yada yada yada... You got the point.

But what about a s/o who's a freaking badass? And I'm not referring to working in the mafia and having a position or a cool ability. A civilian s/o who just sends everyone who pisses her off to hell, who isn't afraid to pick a fight and who is not easily intimidated. Who is kind but with boundaries. Who doesn't take any disrespect towards themselves or anyone important to them. Someone who will not beg for respect, affection or love. And Chuuya is absolutely head over heels about them because what do you mean they knocked out Dazai for calling him a short ugly slug? What do you mean they threatened Mori with a fiscal and governmental inspection if he didn't grant Chuuya the promised off days? And was so chill about it "If you don't respect your employee rights, I'll make sure that you will respect them one way or another. Yeah no, I don't give shit that you're the mafia's boss or whatever. The last assassins sent to deal with me are six feet under so I strongly advise you to rethink your response Mori-san." And Mori just complies with it because Elise is fascinated by this person and also can't have Chuuya known about his attempts to kill his lover.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Guilt-Tripped Pt.2

TW: Canon-typical violence Part 1 part 3 Pairing: Ghostxreader(ish) Summary: The mission does not go according to plan

Wc: 1758 A/N: The fights scenes are fast-paced/rushed intentionally, I was trying to give off the feel of combat, if it did not work please let me know and I'll fix it :)

You were off your game, that much was clear. Not only was this mission located in your mother country, but the base you were clearing was one you had been “trained” in. You were anxious, and you knew Ghost could tell. But, true to form, he did not pry. That was one of the reasons you liked him. Everyone else would have asked questions but Ghost didn’t. He respected your privacy, understood that not everything is meant to be shared.

“Ghost, how copy?”

“Solid. Moving in.”

“Copy.” You unsling your gun from your shoulder, following Ghost into the abandoned building. You cover his six as you clear the building, finger hovering over the trigger of your gun. The ghosts contained in the walls were dogging your footsteps, begging for you to turn and listen to them.

“Again”

“You’ll break them.”

“Only the weak.”

“No, please!”

“Do it again!”

“Do not defy me.”

“Again.”

“Y/N.” You snap back to attention, “Buildn’s clear.”

“Ay. Let’s look for the intel then.”

“It’ll go fas’er if we split up.”

“Ah…I guess.”

“Stay frosty.” With that Ghost heads up the stairs, leaving you to pray he doesn't find anything he’s not supposed to. You take a deep breath and turn away, searching the rooms more intently this time, on the lookout for files and a USB drive instead of hostiles.

The first room has nothing, just some rotting pieces of wood that used to be furniture. Still, something about it leaves you feeling deeply unsettled. You step out and head to the room across the hall, your hairs standing on end. The second room is basically the same, as are the third and fourth. And fifth. And sixth. After the final room reveals nothing, you head upstairs to help Ghost.

The stairs creak under the weight of you and your gear, the sound adding to the already eerie atmosphere. You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to walk through the hallways that haunt your nightmares.

Ghost is in the first room you come to, his face lit up by a computer that somehow is still working. Alarm bells ring in the back of your brain, but you ignore them, instead focusing on the video that is playing.

“Again.”

The video is grainy, but you know the scene well. 3 girls stand side by side, guns in hand.

“Again.”

They drop to the ground, legs swinging around before standing.

“Again.”

They fire simultaneously, one loud gunshot echoing through the room.

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Aga-

The video cuts out, but you still see what happened next.

“-in.” You are faster this time, the girls next to you running out of stamina. You had been at this for hours, a constant stream of crouch, stand, fire, reload. You drop into a crouch, sweep your legs around, and come up, you and the girl to your left firing at the same time. You don’t even flinch as the girl to your right is dragged away.

“Again.”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload.

“Again”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload.

“Again.”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload.

“Again.”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload. And once again, you are faster. The girl to your left is dragged away, leaving only you. Your palms are blistered and your knees are torn open, but you won.

“Y/n.” You stare at the target in front of you, breathing hard.

“Y/n!” You raise your head, searching for the woman in charge of your training. Except the voice calling for you is male, and…British?

“Y/n!” A hand touches your shoulder and you don’t think, just react. Your gun is buried between the persons ribs before your vision even clears.

“Fuck. Ghost I…fuck. I’m s-fuck.” You stagger back, blinking hard as you holster the weapon. Ghost has his own weapon trained on you, though his finger is not on the trigger.

“What in th’ bloody hell was that?” He hisses. You inhale, exhale, and shove your emotion down where they won’t bother you.

“I am sorry.” You say softly, “I zoned out and you…scared me.” He doesn’t say anything in response, just grunts and shakes his head, holstering his gun. You hold your breath as he stares at you with an indiscernible look in his eyes.

“We'll talk when we get t’ base.” He says finally. You nod, fingers trembling as you follow him into the next room. You hadn’t noticed when you were clearing it before but the rooms up here are much more preserved. This room is empty, save for a barre attached to the wall, the one way mirror above it shattered into a million pieces.

The girls dance in unison, repeating the moves over and over and over again. Your tutu makes your skin itch, and your toes are bleeding from the hours of non-stop practice. Still, you don’t complain. Even at seven years old, you know better than to voice your sorrows.

“Good y/n. Again.” Legs burning, feet aching, skin itching, you begin the routine again. You bring your leg up but your ankle rolls, your form wobbling.

“Oh y/n. I had such high hopes for you.” Your body is thrown across the room, stars dancing across your vision as the acrid smell of smoke fills your senses. Wait…smoke?

“Y/n!” You inhale sharply, looking up at Ghost. But he’s not there. In his place is an aging man with a road face and short beard.

“Dreykov.” He’s older, much older, but you would recognize him anywhere. You look around the room, trying to find any sign of Ghost. The simple movement sends waves of pain through your skull, makes your vision blurry. But you've operated in much worse condition before.

“Where’s Ghost?” Your voice sounds oh so far away.

“Hello to you too darling.” You shiver almost imperceptibly at his voice, “Why don’t you use that pretty little head of yours and tell me?” You can barely hear him over the high-pitched whine bouncing around your skull. Oh, right, your ears are ringing. Ringing, why are your ears ringing? You blink hard, taking in your surroundings. The room is filled with smoke, the remnants of the outer wall scattered across the room, the result of an explosion. Something sticky trickles down your face, dripping into your eyes as you put two-and-two together.

You and Ghost had walked into the room, you’d been violently thrown into a flashback, and while you were off in la-la land, Dreykov must have blown through the wall. But that still didn’t explain where Ghost was. You inhale slowly, trying to focus your vision. And-there! You spot a hole in the floor, and the only thing you can think is that Ghost fell through.

Later you’ll blame it your disoriented state for forgetting he was there, but really you just didn’t want to face Dreykov alone. You leave him in the room, leave him to escape with the intel you'd come to collect, and sprint down to the first level to find Ghost. You jump over fallen bits of ceiling, dodging debris as the building slowly falls apart around you.

Ghost is prone on the ground, a Widow prowling around his body. They always did like to play with their food.

Without thinking you launch into the fray, tackling the Widow over his back. It is a short but intense fight, serving as a distraction as Ghost forces himself up. It ends when she throws a sloppy punch towards your face. You grab her wrists, yanking her forward and sweeping her legs out from underneath her. She hits the ground at the same moment you unload your weapon into her chest.

“You always did think you were better than us.” You spin around as you reload, swaying slightly as your vision blurs again. Another widow, one you failed to notice, stands behind Ghost, a gun pressed at his head.

“I did not.” Your voice is calm and even, not betraying your inner distress as your eyes dart around the room as you try to find a way to get her away from him.

“Yes you did.” The widow snarls. She draws another weapon, slamming the butt of it into Ghost's skull with startling force, leaving him to collapse like a ragdoll.

“We were always second best, always the ones punished, always the ones in trouble. Nothing compared to you.” You begin to circle each other, your eyes trained on the gun she has aimed at you. The motion makes you sick, and you can’t hear anything over your focus on staying awake.

You blink, and suddenly the widow is in front of you. Just as she wraps her finger around the trigger Ghost, who'd be faking his apparent unconsciousness, tackles her. You can see how the scene will play out, and it doesn't end pretty.

You throw yourself at the Widow Just as she plants her gun in Ghosts chest, sending both of you flying across the room. She ends up on top you so you buck your hips, sending her flying forward. You're moving on pure instinct at this point, to dizzy to think.

You wrap you arm around hers and swing your leg over her side, using the momentum to flip positions so that you're on top. You draw your firearm, but are a millisecond too slow.

She flings you off, your skull bouncing of the pavement as you fall to the side. You manage to keep a grip on your weapon but God's does your head hurt.

You blink yourself back into awareness, coming too just in time to watch Ghost grapples with the Widow for he gun. Ghost may be good, but the Widow is great.

You are too dizzy too see straight, but that's no problem. The Institute had made sure you could shoot a target blindfolded, so you close your had around your 9 mil, raise it front of you, and fire.

You are awarded with a female cry of pain, a thud, and silence.

"You...solid?" You wheeze, gun still held tight in your hand.

"Aye. Y'...y' no' lookin' t' gud there." You can barely hear him, swaying slightly where you stand. Gods your head hurts.

You step forward, practically collapsing into Ghost. You can feel his heart beating rapidly, and you think he's talking to you, but you can’t hear him. Though blurry, your eyes are drawn to the Widow laying in a pool of blood, her brown hair pillowing her head.

It makes you sad, almost, to see someone who didn't get saved. Survivors guilt is what your court-therapist had called it. You thinks it was a load of bullshit but it's not like...is she moving?

You flip around Ghost without thinking, unloading your weapon on the Widow just as her bullet pierces your flesh.

tbc

Tell me what you think!!

@greatkittencloud

[xoln04f1xo]

He’s a hot-headed street racer, you’re the new cop in town. After chasing him for months, you're forced to work together on a city charity race. Sparks (and tires) fly.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, betrayal, trauma triggers, emotional manipulation, fighting

WC: 3.9k

Divider Creds: @strangergraphics

You hadn’t meant to look.

At least, that’s what you told yourself when you cracked into the file.

It started with a login. Then a search. Then a redacted flag you weren’t supposed to have clearance for.

Then... a name.

VERSTAPPEN, MAX INTERPOL RECORD – ACTIVE STATUS: CLASSIFIED DUAL HISTORY – UNDER REVIEW ACCESS TIER: LEVEL 5 OR ABOVE

You were Level 4.

But you also knew someone in tech who owed you a favor.

So you opened it.

And everything changed.

The criminal record came first.

Juvenile offenses. Two sealed.

One open: illegal street racing across multiple European borders.

Charges dropped. No time served. But a note.

“Informant status confirmed. Operational assistance requested. Recruitment initiated.”

You scrolled.

Interpol had offered him a deal.

No prison time - in exchange for infiltration.

You went cold.

Then you opened the cop file.

And the bottom dropped out.

Three blown undercover ops. One fatality. Accusations of unauthorized contact with suspects. "Operates beyond protocol. Risk-prone. Problematic loyalty." Final note: “Despite field issues, asset delivers results. Keep under supervision.”

You sat there, in the ops room, heart thudding.

Max Verstappen wasn’t a cop.

He was a weapon they pointed at criminals and hoped wouldn’t misfire.

And now you were working with him. Sleeping two desks away. Sharing space. Secrets.

And once, a kiss.

You shut the file.

And wished you hadn’t opened it.

The charity race was supposed to be clean.

Fundraiser for injured officers. Flashy cars. VIP donors. No field ops. No weapons.

Just show up, smile, and race.

You and Max were paired in the last-minute “co-driver” category.

Of course.

The second you saw him in his fire suit, leaning against the car like a smug billboard ad, you wanted to punch something.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You saw it.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t flinch. “The file. Everyone eventually does.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re not going to lie?”

“Why bother? You already decided what you think.”

You stepped closer. “You worked with criminals. Cut deals. Burned teams.”

“And I got results,” he shot back. “Which is more than most rule-followers can say.”

“You’re reckless. Dangerous. Half the station wants you gone.”

“And yet…” He stepped toward you too. “Here I am. Still your partner. Still the guy who pulled you out of a burning safehouse last week.”

You stared at him, furious. “You played everyone. You’re not a cop... you’re just a criminal in uniform.”

That did it.

His smile dropped.

Something dark flickered in his eyes.

“You think I wanted this job? That I like being the department’s blunt instrument?”

He turned away, pacing.

“You have no idea what they offered me. What I gave up to do this. You read my file, fine... but you didn’t read why.”

“I don’t care about the why,” you snapped.

That was a lie.

But it felt good to say.

He stared at you like he’d been punched. Then nodded once, sharp. Cold.

“Well,” he said. “Race starts in ten. Don’t worry — I’ll drive.”

You didn’t answer.

You walked.

Right off the track, out of the paddock, into the maze of vendor tents and VIP booths. You needed space. Air. Distance.

You didn’t see the van until the back doors swung open.

You barely had time to shout.

The needle hit your neck.

And the world went black.

TWO DAYS LATER...

The precinct was unusually quiet for a Monday.

Max was leaned over a caseboard, flipping through reports that weren’t sticking.

Something was wrong. He felt it in his chest.

But he didn’t know what it was until Moreno walked in, frowning.

“Hey.”

Max looked up. “Morning.”

“Where’s your partner?”

Max blinked. “She’s not in yet?”

Moreno shook his head. “Didn’t show yesterday either.”

“Maybe she’s sick,” Max said.

Moreno checked his phone. “I called. No answer. Texted too. Nothing.”

Max’s stomach twisted.

“She would’ve told me,” he said slowly.

Moreno raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

Max stood up.

The unease in his chest had turned to ice.

“Get me her last GPS ping,” he said.

Moreno looked surprised. “You think..?”

“Just fucking do it,” Max snapped.

Moreno rolled her eyes and left without saying a word.

Max pulled out his own phone.

No texts.

No calls.

Not even that sarcastic “don’t die” she always sent after messy raids.

Something was wrong.

Really wrong.

He looked at her desk - empty. Her gear still there.

Unclaimed.

Cold crept down his spine.

Then Moreno returned, face pale.

“She pinged last at the race venue.”

Max froze. “That was two days ago.”

“Yeah,” Moreno said quietly. “And her car’s still there. But she’s not.”

Max’s blood went cold.

And suddenly - everything else in the room didn’t matter.

She was gone.

And he had no idea where to start.

Other Chapters

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Taglist: @livelaughleclerc --- @cmleitora

Join Taglist -> here!

[v3ng3anc3-qu33n]

Am I wrong for wanting solid revenge readers? Like they go full evil and psycho after being hurt? Like in a neglected reader story, they go revenge crazy and kill people? Or they got cheated on, so they snap? And like they stay evil, they don't easily go back to being nice and sweet like 'oh you apologised okie!' Instead, saying 'hmm, let me think about it... fuck. No.' or they don't just move on they are super petty and hit them where it hurts doing whatever it takes to make them feel how the reader felt? Maybe they become a full villain and join the villains after a hero hurt them and the villains become yandere along with the hero. Maybe they go off making their own way like Harley Quinn with the baddass speech and everything.

[libraryraccoon]

UNPOPULAR OPINION : There not enough strong and badass male and gn!reader.

(It's the same for the villain!male and gn reader, there not enough fics about it.)

As a clingy extrovert and nightmare of all the introverts, not seeing fics where reader is a gremlin of chaos is a little sad.

Like, let me be the FUCKING MENACE FOR THE SOCIETY not the victim !!

On my way for writing chaoting male and gn reader rn

[oceansssblue]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! Can I request a fic where Omega gets injured and separated from the Batch for a few days, and the reader (female) takes care of her until they can find her brothers? One night stormtroopers/imperials come in to try and take her, but reader is a BAMF (maybe an ex-battlefield medic? She has access to blasters, knives, smoke grenades, etc. to make another part of this more believable) and is able to fight them off pretty easily. The problem is actually when the Batch shows up, and reader thinks they’re the enemy and the Batch thinks she’s holding Omega hostage or something. And thus, reader vs. the bad batch begins! No one kills each other because Omega comes down and clears everything up upon her hearing her brothers. It just took her a while to come over because, you know, injury.

Also I think it’d be fun if the reader did manage to pin Hunter, even if it’s only for a second and then she would likely get pinned back because . . . It’s the bad batch.

Sure thing love, I'm down!

Xx,

Sky.

"NOT YOUR ENEMY"

HUNTER/F READER 📩💖(💔)

WARNINGS: blood&wound, stitches, light mention of atempted assault to omega (nothing happens further than words), reader being a badass and killing some storm-troopers, fire/explosions, reader being shot, some teasing/sexual tension with Hunter... A hint of competency kink? It's mostly action/fluff!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were just on your way back home after collecting your credits when your eyes capture the shine of a blade with the reflection of the moonlight. You've been trained to focus on such things; possible weapons, always being aware of your surroudings. If you're distracted, your dead. You weren't always; but it comes as natural as breathing to you, now.

You're not in the mood for a fight, though; so once you realise you're not the one in danger, you decide to pass this one out. If you go looking for a fight, it will find you. You're still tired of your last hunt; you're not feeling the thrill of a new chase just yet. That's until you hear a voice; way too innocent and young to be stuck in such a situation without proper defence.

Your steps backtrack silently and your eyes quickly scan the alley. It's a human girl; blonde, petite, and no older than fourteen. There are three males closing up on her; two humans, one twi'lek. You see the girl trying to get pass them, a nervous anxious smile on her face. You make your resolve right then and there.

You've got to be careful. You can't save everyone.

You move so quietly towards them they don't even realise you're right at their back until you voice up your request with your blaster pointing straight at them.

"Let's keep going on with our peacefull night walk, boys".

It's serious, firm, feigning boredom. Inside, you're as coiled as a snake, ready to strike.

Ready. Always ready. Don't trust anyone. An innocent looking enemy might be your death if you don't take him seriously, if you don't think he's a danger. If you grow complacent.

They glance at each other, evaluating their chances against you. Then down at the girl; their price if they won, or the reason of their downfall if they decide to engage you and lose. One of the humans shrugs lazily, making a head gesture towards the other two. They slowly follow him out of the alley.

"All yours" the last one snorts when he passes by you.

If someone backs down, let them go.

You swallow your furious retort and take hold of the girls wrist, tugging her in the other opening of the alley, opposite direction to them. You don't trust them not to follow you, try to catch you by surprise, so you don't stop until you're at the other side of town, walking towards the outskirts in the direction of your small house. You're still vigilant all the way.

"You alright, blondie?" You ask, glancing at her and scanning her body cautiously. "You got yourself a wound there, shirt's soaking up blood".

The girl looks down at herself and nods guiltily.

"Yeah, I, uh... Had some complications" she ends up saying, quietly, before her face quickly lits up. "Thanks for helping me, though! I appreciate it".

You nod and that's that.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

She nibbles with her lower lip anxiously.

"Uh, yeah, but... I lost my coms in a fight, so I have no way of contacting my brothers. Can I... Stay with you for a bit til I find them? I'm sure they'll catch up to me in no time".

You glance at her and sigh quietly. You don't really want to get involved, but you have too much of a conscience to leave her to fetch for herself. She's just a kid, and you're a military medic. Well, were.

"Alright. But if you annoy me I'm pushing you out".

The kid grins. She looks even younger with the excitement and relief in her face.

"You remind me of one of my brothers. Grumpy" she adds, good-heartedly.

You huff.

"Not grumpy. Direct. Concise" you correct her. "It's different".

She chuckles quietly.

"Grumpy" she tells you again.

You roll your eyes. You're used to taking care of men; you haven't have much contact with kids before.

"You're not doing a good job of not annoying me, blondie".

She smiles and makes the universal gesture of zipping her mouth shut.

"I'm Omega, by the way" she tells you after a few seconds in silence.

You nod and glance at her again. You should really check that wound when you're back at home. It's bleeding quite a bit, even if you don't think it's deep enough to worry. You're sure you have enough meds at home to take care of it. Omega doesn't seem to be in pain either.

She stares at you while you walk, leading the way to your safe place; still expecting an answer. You glare at her before focusing back on your way home. This is going to end up being either surprisingly good or exasperate you to no end.

You relent.

"Nickname's Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Turns out Omega is pretty good company; which is quite a relief considering she's more injured than what you had originally thought and his brothers are no where to be seen after three whole days of her invasion of your privacy and home. You make sure to disinfect her wound and stitch it back together; you don't have strong opioids on stock, but she holds on surprisingly well, clenching her teeth and shutting her eyes, breathing through the pain. It makes your perspective of her change; she's not just any kid if she can push herself through that without barely making a noise. She's brave.

You cover the wound in bacta and dress it carefully; and make sure to change them to new ones twice a day. At the third night you inspect the closed wound carefully, the aspect of the skin and wether the stitches are still in good place; it seems to be progressing well. You still force her to bed rest; your new sleeping place your backpack layed on the wooden floor beside her. She feels guilty about it, and it shows; you only aknowledge it with a quiet hum. You're not going to deny you'd like your bed back; but you've slept in much worse conditions before.

I know it's difficult to fall asleep. Just try to tune it out. Think on other things.

On that third night, when you turn the lights out, Omega cautiously asks you about the origin of your nickname. You tell her your story. How you got your degree in Medicine in Coruscant's University; how you mastered in Galactic Bioscience when the war hit it's peak. How you started your first working years as a doctor in a clinic while you constantly heard about the battalions of clones being shipped elsewhere; defending all of you while you stayed with your simple Coruscanti life. How that hadn't set well inside of you; how you struggled with guiltiness and empathy every single day until you took the decision to enlist in the volunteers for the GAR. You tell her that switching to military medic had been a struggle at first; but the gratification was unmessurable. You were really needed there; you really did a change saving all those brave troopers lifes. You grew to respect them and admire those men like you had never admired someone before.

Unfortunately, with being a woman in military service, and a volunteer at that, very few troopers thought it meant you weren't able to defend yourself. To fight. When one cocky, snarky trooper had insinuated that publicly in the middle of the comedor, you had done what you believed was your right and justice by shutting his mouth; snarling back a warning while using your knife to nail down the sleeve of his upper blacks to the dinning table, blade sliding just a few inches away from his skin.

Omega's eyes are wide open while she listens to the anecdote. Yeah, it had made an impact among the clone lines as well.

"Okay, you're giving me Hunter vibes with the knife things now" she giggles in the darkness of your bedroom.

You arch an eyebrow, humming under your breath uncomitedly.

"What, he a soldier too?"

Omega is quick –too quick– to correct you.

"No, no. Mercenaries".

You'd give her the sceptical side eye if you had her in front of you. You let your voice carry your suspicion instead.

"Running around with a kid like you?"

The girl stumbles to answer. It's obvious there's more to the story there, but you believe she is trying to protect her siblings, so you let it be.

"Hey, I can defend myself!" She argues with a small huff, voice turning sheepish right after the outburst, considering your actual situation. "Well, on most ocasions. Life works in unexpected ways sometimes".

You can't help the snort that comes with her words.

"You bet" you answer sarcastically. You sigh tiredly and close your eyes again. "Good night, Omega".

You hear her reacomodating softly against the sheets.

"Night, Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You've always been a light sleeper. As soon as the alarm rings, you're jumping out of your sleeping bag and rushing to get your armour on –now stripped of all Republic marks– and backpack on your shoulders; already prepared with the basics in case you came across an emergency like this. You take a quick glance at the datapad you have conected to the cams you've got set up on the surroundings of your cabin; cursing under your breath.

"Omega" you call her sharply, shaking her awake without an inch of sympathy. "Get up and ready to go. Don't make me repeat myself".

The girl blinks sleepily, but she reads the urgency in your voice. She understands this is no joke; so she quickly jumps into action too, abandoning the comfort and warmth of the bed and quickly throwing her clothes on too, electrical bow clutched in her hands. She stares at you wide eyed.

"What's going on?" She whispers, nervously.

You ruffle through your closet, jaw clenched and set on the task of preparing yourself for the worst. One blaster gets inmediately strapped at each outer thigh; your belt of knifes looping around your waist. One vibroblade goes into the safe-pocket of your right vambrace; your second one on your left leg. You stuff your bag with a few extra surprises and tie up your hair. It's time to move.

Time is precious. Time is life. Don't be slow. Do it fast, and do it good.

"Stormtroopers" you finally answer her, cinching your backpack firmly on your shoulders, expresion growing firm and serious. "Got this whole area studied in case someone found out about my past and went towards me, but I didn't think it would be this many enemies. I think there's something you haven't told me, but there's no time for that now. Listen carefully, 'cause I'm not gonna' say this twice".

Omega nods, just slightly afraid, and you push a smaller datapad into her hands.

"This is a second safe house I've got prepared not too far away from here, close to the lake" you explain to her, quickly. "Follow the map and go there. There's different routes saved up in case you find one blocked or any other difficulties. Be silent, be quick, and you shouldn't have much problem getting there. Once you're inside, open the closet in the corner of the cabin and in the first drawer you'll see another datapad. It controls some explosives I've got set around that house. If for some reason the stormtroopers get to the safehouse before I do, blow them up, and run away. I'll be able to track your location if you have that datapad on you, it's conected to mine, so I'll find you sooner or later. Got it?"

Omega nods, brow furrowed in concentration. She looks up at you anxiously.

"What will you do? You're not... Coming with me?"

You shake your head.

"I'll buy you time" you answer, firm. "Got a few surprises set out round here as well, and I'm trained. I'll clear this out and follow you to the safe house".

You open the door of the cabin and take a carefull glance out. You make a gesture towards her.

"You should go now. They're still a kilometer away".

Omega stays stuck to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her.

"Go" you snap towards her. Then, your eyes soften. "I will go after you, I promise".

Don't promise things that aren't in your hand to make it happen or not.

But promises give hope.

False hope.

Sometimes false hope is all you need to fight harder.

Omega runs into the forest, and you're quick to close the door and abandon the cabin as well, finding your hiding spot among the trees and keeping an eye at the aproaching stormtroopers through your datapad.

You knew this kid meant trouble. Well, if war is what they want... Your fingers caresses the hilts of your blades. That's what they'll get.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You logically know you're no match for these stormtroopers if you were to pull a direct open attack on them. You use your advantages, though; you're in your territory, one you know well, and they're advancing with blind trust that you'd be no real danger to them. It does wonders for your counter attack, and you silently move through the forest, killing one lonely soldier after the other with just a quick slash of your blade, throats splitting open and last words muffled against the palm of your globed hand in a wet gurgle of confusion and pannick. You gently let each body fall to the ground before you're moving towards the next one, checking their positions on your datapad through the cams you've got almost everywhere; lethal, quick, and quiet.

When they finally discover you –one soldier catching you silently opening the throat of a fellow one, and he shouts out your position in alarm–you've already killed half of them in the silence of the night.

It turns harder after that. They know you're around, they're aware, active; they know you're not an innocent normal civilian any longer. You're danger, real; they're coordinated, and they move fast as well. You hadn't used your blasters before in order to take advantage of the element of surprise; but you need them now, so you dodge and take your shot at them. Two more fall down before two of their own shots hit both your blaster –ripping it from your hand– and your right shoulder. You swallow your scream of pain and whimper quietly, clenching your jaw shut. You push through the pain and retreat back to the cabin in a hurry; it's your best chance.

It's a game of agility and speed. If you get there first, and they close around your home, you'll detonate the explosives hidden in the ground and kill them all. If they catch you before you're able to do that... It's you who'll end up dead.

Adrenaline rushes through your body and you feel like you're flying while you run. A shot scorches the armour plate on your back, and though it makes you stumble, you grin darkly. You've made it, and they're all dead.

You turn around to watch them and press the button on your datapad. All around you, the forest explodes and burns.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Once you make sure there are no survivors around you –you have to shoot a pair of them down who are still struggling to breathe through the scorching pain–, you take a bacta pad from your backpack and cover your wound with it, wrapping a bandage around it to properly secure it before you're walking away from you're no-longer home. You'll tend to it properly afterwards, later; right now you don't feel like it's safe to stay here, where you've caused such a wrath. You need to get to your safe house. You need to find Omega; and you bet these stormtroopers must have reinforcements somewhere.

Fuck, this is all a mess. This is going to put a bullseye on your back and you would probably never be safe in this planet again; you should probably make a jump more sooner than later.

You sigh tiredly and continue making your way through the forest, periodically checking your datapad. You feel relieved to know that at least Omega's signal is permanently stationed there on your second cabin.

You're still checking the cams, so there should not be a way for you to get surprised; but almost upon arriving your safe house, you catch a blur of grey, red, orange and blue moving towards you at high speed with the corner of your eyes. You barely have time to identify what it is before you're being brutally tackled to the ground with a painful grunt. You fight back viciously, cataloging the man's appearance while you swing your vibroblade and try to slash him with it; the soldier quickly grabbing your hand and forcing you to drop the weapon with brutal force, almost twisting your wrist and fingers in his effort. You hiss and roll around, keeping him under you this time. It's not like you're lacking knifes...

You manage to draw one from your belt and push it right to his neck when someone else clears his throat at your back; making you glance back.

Fuck, this one's huge.

"Need some help, sarge?" He almost mocks him, and you're momentarily surprised by the entertainment in his voice, the camaraderie between this two stormtroopers as clear as the water from Naboo lakes.

You quickly pull your second blaster out and try to shoot at him; but he's faster, and he shoots back, hitting the very center of your chest plate. The impact is so close it pushes you off from the first soldier's body; who quickly takes advantage of the momentum to efectivelly pin you under him, no way of escaping them now.

Your mind is divided between trying to cope with the pain on your chest and the pannicking fact that you're trapped, and this is probably your end. Angry, frightened tears fill your eyes.

"Where is she?" the soldier on top of you demands, voice deep and almost raspy.

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Go fuck yourself" you spit in between your panting breaths.

The big one chuckles.

The trooper on top of you rips his helmet off and stares at you; clenching his jaw. You get why he decided to do that; he looks intimidating, with half of his face tattoed in black, almost mimicking a skeleton. He lowers his face and you can't help but grow tense.

"You did a good job with those stormtroopers, but I don't have any patience left, mercenary. Where. Is she".

He presses you against the floor with his hands on your shoulder, and you whimper involuntarily when he pushes against your covered wound.

The fact that he has refered to the stormtroopers with "those" slowly registers your mind. He talks about them as if they weren't ones themselves. You quickly scan them with your eyes. They're definitely not clones, no –at least not the normal ones–, and they are soldiers. Perhaps they belong to some other organization? But what could they want Omega for?

"Not a mercenary, just a normal civ here" you push through the pain and actually grin at him, defiantly, almost whispering against his lips. "And like I said; go fuck yourself".

His right hand turns into a fist and retreats, prepared to hit you, when a pannicked voice echoes in the silence of the forest, running towards you.

"Hunter! W-wait!"

The soldier's head snap towards the girl and his eyes fill with confusion, relief, and worry.

"Step back, Omega. Stay away" he orders, with a familiarity that suddenly makes everything gain sense.

The facts falls into place. This is Hunter, the brother Omega mentioned before; the one with the vibroblade. Your eyes fly to the spot for it in his own vambrace. Oh, you're all so stupid. You've almost killed each other looking for the same thing; to protect the kid.

"She's not your enemy!" Omega insists, panting while she finally reaches you lot, the big guy holding her back with a carefully heavy hand on her shoulder, a confused expresion in his scared face. "This is Blade. She was a GAR medic. She's being helping me since I got separated from you, protected me from some bad guys and even stitched my wound up and everything. Please, Hunter. I'm okay".

The man's eyes scan her up and down; first focusing on her covered stomach, searching for the wound, before continuing with the rest of her. Once he confirms she's okay, he locks eyes with Omega; both of them staring at each other for a few seconds before Hunter sighs and turns his face back towards you. You breathe and try to calm your speeding heart.

"Where exactly did you serve?" He asks, voice firm but more gentle now.

He still holds you tightly under him. As much as he wants to believe those words, he needs to check the information out.

You answer him patiently.

"327th Star Corps, under Bly and General Secura".

Hunter repeats the information over his coms without taking his eyes from you. A flicker of surprise crosses his serious expression; perhaps noticing you didn't name the Comander by his rank, but his name.

Okay, Blades. You can consider us friends now.

Your heart clenches. You glance away.

"The information appears to be correct, Hunter" a self-assured voice picks up in between the static. "There's plenty of data of a doctor going by the nickname Blade on the old GAR registers. Including the incident that prompted such name, amongst dozens of post-mission reports and recomendations. She's being searched by the Empire as well".

The coms grow silent again, and Hunter inmediately relaxes his hold on you, trusting his –other brother, you guess?– entirely.

"Forgive me" he tells you, standing up and offering you his own hand, a guilty and almost sheepish expresion on his face now. "I thought..."

"I was a mercenary that killed all those stormtroopers just to collect a price, yeah, I know" you cut him off, slowly standing up as well and wincing at the pain.

Now that the adrenaline is dropping, you feel exhausted and nautious.

"Not that she isn't a cute kid and that, but what's so special about her?" You can't help but ask.

They all tense, and you sigh in understanding.

"Family keeps family safe, okay" you accept.

Hunter's eyes flicker down towards your scorched chest plate and your bandaged shoulder. Blood is staining the bandage now, after the pressure he put on your wound seconds ago. He frowns.

"You hurt?"

You nod quietly.

"Believe it or not, trying to get rid of a whole squad of stormtroopers on your own is not that easy" you find enough energy to joke.

A tiny smirk tugs on his lips.

"Oh, I know. I'm impressed, though".

The booming voice of his other brother almost startles you into a jump.

"Yeah, we all are!"

You smile and shrug.

Hunter glances around.

"We should get out of here. We got our ship docked close. Want us to take you somewhere?" He offers.

"Any other planet would be nice" you answer, and he nods.

"Sorry for all the trouble. And thank you" he finally says, and you sigh with a small tired smile.

"Alright".

With nothing more to say, Hunter leads the way back to their ship, Omega walking besides him and Wrecker closing the line. You can't help but analise the man's interactions with the girl. It's sweet, really, the fatherly way he looks at her. It's hot too.

Oh well. You can't help but think that either. He looks good fighting, and you always had a bit of a competency kink.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fiuuuuuuu!!!! This one took me really long to write bc I'm DYING with my exams and I have 0,0000001% energy (and time) spare to write. I'm actually finishing this off rn after reading my last unit for the day, i'm exhausted send help.

Anyhow, I think this little story developed okay, so I hope you like it! In case any of you hadn't guess it yet or still had doubts, the cursive stands for thoughts and memories of female reader back in battle with the GAR and her men. It's always so fun to write badass characters!

We've got JUST ONE MORE REQUEST to write (a super fluffy hunter one with dancer!femalereader) to oficially finish the second part of my requests list (will open a third one in the future don't fret). That would be 20 requests already look at that!

Also, I just need 7 more followers to make it to a hundred, and I've been thinking on doing something special for it. Suggestions?

Stay tunned for the next one and take care!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here:

[nanamineedstherapy]

Man writing smut is so hard bro.

I'm not much of a smut person to begin with but I think (or at least the comments say) I managed ok the few (5 times I think), two of it straight, few yaoi (lol), and one non-graphic threesome.

But now I think “third wheeling your own marriage” has reached a point where I’m fed up of the main couple edging each other into oblivion in unhinged (no, like literally the most realistic but unhinged) therapy for couples — and I want the first one to be gratuitous smut.

Like.

Men begging.

With tears and snot.

And ukulele.

And full-body worship to apologize with both their dicks to their (mildly criminal) chaotic wife who spoils Gojo into oblivion and is obsessed with biting Nanami’s forearms (or thighs, she’s not picky, just hormonal and pregnant af with both their twins). Yes you read that right. BOTH THEIR TWINS.

(Because me too. OMG NO I AM NOT PREGNANT. I’M OVER MEN after dating my last ex who turned out to be yandere and asked me to join couples therapy only after 5 MONTHS OF KNOWING ME 😓). ISTG men are canceled.

OK so ya let’s get back to topic.

Man writing threesome — and one that’s supposed to feel earned — is so hard 😩.

Pray for me please or send tips.

My raw-dogging caffeine-snorting (like real caffeine powder) has me climbing walls with shit I want to write but also not letting me sleep bcs I keep getting easily distracted 😓.

Also introducing a hot European butler soon. He speaks French, makes perfect espresso, and does not fear Gojo. That alone should tell you everything.

And Sukuna? Yeah. He’s lurking. Bcs he remimbers this was his wife in another life, although vaguely. And this time, he wants her back.

[itsyagurlchip]

Slides in

Heyyy poookieeeee

I have a request for you

I receive/request: a Vox x GN!Reader who died and is in hell and got magic thing because they were into the occult when alive. Vox is “mildly” intrigued because they’re making a splash in the pride ring. (I love the magic x tech dynamic, very silly)

You receive: Likes, reblogs, shit ton of support and me blogging tf out of the request. Me going insane over the request.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Aw, Poor You, Go Suck It☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings: 16+(!) suggestive stuff(!) valentino(!) cussing(!) badass reader(!) lots of words(!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩Ace...Ace my dear. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! AUGHH IM GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN WRITING THISSS AUGHHHHH-AJDKNJDEHWJDBIWXDNEHIDIWEHNDXZIM ok ok ok, since they'e only meeting there won't be too much fluff or anything really, just a simple scenario. The reader's gender wasn't specified, so go nuts! I LOVE YOU ACE/p <333

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You know how Vox acts up over people he likes? Ermm... yea, wellllll- Turns out, you're currently overselling his business AND you're hot. wait what?

Typing out documents at your desk, you sighed at the amount of paper work you had. 'Magic could do cool things, but not files' you guessed. Things around your office float around you in green magic, carrying out various tasks, like organizing said papers. 'But atleast I don't have to organize this shit.'

Suddenly, your double doors busted open, revealing a robot man? You pushed up your glasses a bit with a grimace. He marched in, electricity crackling around him as he stood up to your desk. He pounded a gloved fist onto your papers, making a brown to black singe appear on them.

You growled deeply, you just finished those!

"Did you schedule a meeting?" You said with a leveled voice. Sure you were pissed right now, but you didn't want to deal with much else this afternoon, nonetheless a petty fight with a bitch.

"No?" He said, the sparks going away in his bout of confusion. "You little- You're overselling my-" You cut him off.

"Then get. Out. Now." You flicked your wrist, with all the magic in the room dropping what it was holding, before speeding to the TV head who yelled in surprise.

"What? Fu- No!" He growled, the green magic tightening him into a stiff line, shooting him out to the room back to the elevator. He cursed profanities, the basic ones like whore and and bitch, as you rolled your eyes and shut your doors again. 'At least be creative and add the insults with flavor.'

Finally, quiet from a whining glorified crack ipad kid tablet.

"Jeez, the intolerable ass crouton." You sigh deeply, getting your anger together before getting back to work, typing and printing those papers.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

It was a week later, and nothing about the incident stayed on your mind. Infact, you were in your potion factory figuring out ways to outsell this new "love potion". Oh how you loved pissing corporate businesses off. No one even knew that you were running a "monopoly" by definition, as the CEO's of your multibusiness ran under many names.

'And those who know say nothing'. Those who were binded in contracts couldn't say anything, as they owe you from previous deals.

Your motto was; "Get the magic of a Sin, for the price of the poor". It may have been a bit deprecating, but it sells. Greatly.

Its always nice to see big man faces fall when they see that magic is often more superior in certain aspects of life. It's cheaper, more effective, and best of all; it sells more. That thought made a grin spread throughout your face. Maybe that's why you were cast into Hell; for greed. Either that or the demonic occult group you often participated in on the surface.

No matter, you were richer in this life so the past didn't concern you too much. You came into Hell not too long ago, so it became a surprise for many when you built your business in just a few weeks! You became an Overlord quickly.

With your business, and souls in your hands, you began to grow bigger in popularity! Which sparked interest in some unwanted people. It turns out, and you caught this one on the news, that the person who barged into your office was named Vox; The Innovation Overlord. And despite the "innovation" impact he's made, you still had way more clients than him by thousands.

Just as you were about to sprinkle some glitter into a bottle for a little decoration, one of your assistants rushed in with a rushed appearance, clearly shaken.

"Um, excuse me Mx. Alchemist Overlord? U-um, there's a message for you by a fellow competitor." She stuttered out, with her tail wrapping around her leg for stability. An envelope with a bright blue V was stamped with red wax. Interesting.

"From who?" You asked.

"...VoxTek Enterprises.." She cowered, as if you had something to worry about. Your smile grew, the afterlife just kept getting better!

"Thank you. You may go back to your desk now." You said with a smirk, patting her head as she walked away. You walked out of the room and into the hallway, walking towards the elevator. Strutting to your office, you closed your doors and sat down.

'Why didn't I just teleport?' You thought absentmindedly, leaning back in your chair and opening the letter. The entry read;

"Dear Alchemist..... I have a deal for you"

ᯓᡣ𐭩

You looked up at the VoxTek building. On the outside, you remained calm and leveled, with a small tinge of cockiness peeking out. On the inside, you were highly amused, and quite frankly, embarrassed for this guy. He has 2 other overlords on his side, and yet he still begs for power?

You huffed out part of a laugh, before skating your head and walking in. The place looked tacky to you. Really? The "V Tower"? This guy has to be stuck in his teenage years! It was too laughable really.

Sauntering over to the secretary, you were able to get the floor number as well as the meeting room location. Thanking her, you walked over to the elevator and pressed the highest floor.

'It seems he took my advice and scheduled a meeting.' You thought, looking up towards the camera in the corner. Oh, so the flatcreen flatass wanted to spy on you? You'll give him a show then.

You raised your head higher at the camera, lidding your eyes as slowly as you could. Taking your finger, you opened your mouth to drag it across your tongue. Pulling it away from your mouth, you let the saliva drip down onto the floor. The camera fizzled and powered down, with steam flowing from the top.

'Pathetic', you thought. And the elevator doors opened as a fluffy person in a pink robe walked in, looking tired out. A taller moth guy walked in right behind them. He was bald.

"Hello cariñe~ And what's a sexy tesoro like you doing here?" He said lowly, leaning towards you in interest. You simply ignored him as the doors closed once more.

"No answer? Ai, the feisty one aren't they Angel?" He said threateningly, talking to the other person who complied and agreed. You weren't phased. The door opened to the highest floor, signaling your leave.

"Puta." You heard him mumble, before the doors closed once I more. At least you know who Valentino is now. You scoffed before walking towards a door, with a gold label titled "Vox". This is the one for sure. Weren't one of the overlords a fashion designer? Surely they could've designed the building with more creativity.

You didn't want to touch the knob, not if that moth touched it, so you flicked your wrist as your green magic opened it for you.

Walking in, you realized you hated this building so much. The guy had sharks in tanks! In an electronic filled building. You sneered as you walked into the room rationally, not needing to make too much of a scene yet.

In front of you was the one you came here for; Vox. He had a bluescreen as his head rested on his shoulder. You snapped, and he jerked up- his face showing a loading screen.

'Oh for the love of-'

He was finally "online" with his face scrunching in confusion, before looking to you and smirking. You gestured for him to start, as you time was valuable.

"Right! So, the deal-"

"No"

"If we come toge- Wait what?"

"I said no, you glass backboard."

"Why?"

"You aren't worth my time, nor my product. Thank you for already wasting one of those." You turned to walk away before he teleported in front of you.

"B-But we can go so perfect together! Both of our businesses collaborating together!" He said, stepping towards you as he spoke. His tone was getting desperate and angry.

"So?" You said keeping your voice bold, his tone was pissing you off. It screamed "weak" and "dependent". You bet his whole enterprise could fall over if one of the "Heathers" went out of commission for a while.

"So- Partner with me! Not only would we look good together- I mean- You could have so much more sells! Imagine the cash that would flow in if the people saw magic and technology working together!" He grabbed your hands and put them together. He pushed you against the wall. "I know that magic doesn't fix all problems. Why not use technology to fill in the rest?" he was now in your face, one of his eyes swirling and enlarging. Looking at both eyes, you tched.

'Ha. Enlarging'

"You know what doesn't fix all problems? The setbacks you and your machines have." You snatched your hands back, wiping them on your coat. Flipping him on the wall, you poked his chest. "Sure, they make life easier. Whoopdy doo! But the moment the wifi turns off, it's lights out for you."

You could only hear his labored breathing. Was this motherfucker horny? You rolled your eyes and kept going.

"So who would look better? Me and my stable industry? Or you and your Lego built one?" You ran a finger down from his chest to his stomach. "All I need to do is pull. One. Piece. Out." You stepped away, walking towards the door once more. "Aw..Poor you." You frowned mockingly and looked him up and down, before laughing maliciously.

He was against the wall breathing heavily, with animated sweats rolling down his screen. Disgusting, couldn't even stay professional.

"Your business means nothing to me Vox." You said, walking through and going back to the tower entrance.

Vox was pretty sure he was hard right now.

I know you said mildly interested- but I couldn't help it! While I did want to relate Vox's dynamic with Alastor with reader's, it didn't feel too right so I took another approach!

I feel like this version of the reader has a sick love for power imbalance, and people wanting to reach the level that they're at. Despite that, they don't really care for people more powerful than them, they just mind their business on that part. Even more, reader is sex repulsed, so when they see others in their feel, they can't help but tease <3

I usually don't do time skips, so this also felt kinda odd- but I still loved writing this so much! I might actually write a fic about this. Thank you again for the request Ace <333 I hope you liked it!!

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[todorokis-girl]

Standing Tall - Chuuya x reader

Chuuya Nakahara is head over heels for his badass civilian s/o, Y/N, who refuses to be intimidated by anyone, not even the most powerful figures in the Port Mafia. Y/N stands up for Chuuya, knocking out Dazai for insulting him and even confronting Mori to ensure Chuuya gets his promised time off. With unwavering confidence and a calm demeanor, Y/N is a force to be reckoned with, and Chuuya couldn’t be more in love.

Based on this post by @hellaarknight

it's been day, this has been rotting on my brain for days, It had to be written.

Requests are OPEN!

masterlist

Chuuya Nakahara had never considered himself easily impressed. He was a man who had seen the world’s darkest corners, who had fought and bled in the name of the Port Mafia, and who had faced down the most dangerous Ability users without flinching. But you? You were something else entirely.

You weren’t part of the underworld, nor did you possess an Ability that could turn the tide of battle. You were, by all accounts, a civilian. But what people often overlooked was that it wasn’t power or status that made someone formidable. It was the unwavering confidence, the sheer refusal to be intimidated, and the ability to stand tall in the face of adversity.

You’d caught Chuuya’s eye almost immediately, a whirlwind of determination and fearlessness wrapped in a kind smile. He’d been head over heels before he even knew it, captivated by the way you could walk into any room, look anyone—no matter how dangerous—straight in the eye, and hold your ground. It was refreshing, exhilarating even, to see someone who didn’t just survive in a world of chaos but thrived on it without ever losing themselves.

The first time Chuuya realized just how serious you were about not taking anyone’s shit was when you knocked out Dazai. The lanky bastard had been mouthing off, making one of his usual snide remarks about Chuuya’s height and appearance, calling him a "short, ugly slug" with that annoying smirk on his face. Chuuya had been ready to retaliate, but before he could even move, you were in front of him, eyes blazing.

“Say that again,” you’d said, voice calm but laced with an undeniable threat. Dazai, ever the troublemaker, had repeated his insult, barely getting the words out before you’d sent your fist crashing into his face, dropping him to the ground.

Chuuya had blinked, shocked but undeniably impressed. “Y/N—”

“He deserved it,” you’d cut him off, wiping your hand on your pants with a satisfied grin. “No one disrespects you while I’m around.”

And that was that. Dazai had stayed on the ground, nursing a bruised jaw, while you stood there as if nothing had happened. Chuuya couldn’t help but laugh, a deep, appreciative sound that made your grin widen.

But it wasn’t just the small skirmishes where you showed your strength. You had no fear of the Mafia’s hierarchy, no qualms about confronting the most powerful figures if it meant protecting what mattered to you.

It had been one of those rare days when Chuuya had actually been granted time off—time off that Mori had later revoked, summoning Chuuya for an "urgent" mission. Chuuya had been ready to grit his teeth and go, fully aware that refusing an order from Mori wasn’t an option. But then you stepped in.

You had marched straight into Mori’s office, completely ignoring the bewildered stares of the subordinates, and leveled a steely gaze at the Mafia boss himself. Mori had looked mildly amused, raising an eyebrow as you spoke.

“If you don’t respect your employee rights, I’ll make sure that you will respect them one way or another.”

Chuuya had frozen in the doorway, eyes wide as he watched you stand toe-to-toe with the most dangerous man in the Port Mafia. Mori’s amusement had deepened, but there was a sharp edge to it. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” he had asked, voice deceptively gentle.

“I do,” you’d replied without missing a beat. “And I don’t care. I know how to handle people like you.”

The air had crackled with tension, subordinates shifting uneasily, ready to react if Mori so much as twitched. But you hadn’t flinched. Instead, you’d continued, voice calm and steady. “The last assassins sent to deal with me are six feet under, so I strongly advise you to rethink your response, Mori-san.”

Mori had studied you for a long moment, the smile never leaving his face but something darker lurking beneath it. And then Elise, perched on his desk with a curious tilt to her head, had spoken up. “I like them, Mori. Can we keep them?”

It had been a surreal moment, one that could have easily ended in disaster. But Mori had merely laughed, a soft, chilling sound. “Very well. Chuuya, you’re free to go. I wouldn’t want to upset our dear Y/N, after all.”

You’d turned on your heel, brushing past the stunned subordinates as if nothing had happened, leaving Mori and Elise behind. Chuuya had followed, heart pounding in his chest, a mix of awe and disbelief swirling within him.

“Y/N,” he’d said once you were safely out of earshot, “you do realize who that was, right?”

“Of course,” you’d replied, flashing him a smile that was equal parts sweet and dangerous. “But I wasn’t about to let him push you around. You deserve better.”

Chuuya had stared at you, utterly captivated. No one—absolutely no one—had ever stood up for him like that, especially not against Mori. He’d known you were special from the moment he met you, but this? This was something else entirely.

From that day on, Chuuya knew he’d found someone who was more than just a partner. You were a force to be reckoned with, a storm in your own right, and you had no intention of being anything less. You weren’t afraid to set boundaries, to demand respect, and to fight for what you believed in. And you did it all with a calm, collected demeanor that only made you more formidable.

Chuuya loved you for it, admired you for it, and he knew there was no one else in the world who could ever take your place in his heart. You were his equal, his anchor, and the one person who could stand by his side without ever being overshadowed.

And when you’d pulled him close that night, holding him like you never intended to let go, Chuuya knew without a doubt that he was the luckiest man in the world. Because you, Y/N, were nothing short of extraordinary.

As the city lights twinkled outside the window, you leaned in and whispered, “No one’s ever going to push you around again, Chuuya. Not as long as I’m here.”

Chuuya smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

In a world filled with chaos, power struggles, and constant danger, you were the calm within the storm, the fierce protector who refused to be intimidated. And Chuuya Nakahara couldn’t have been more in love with you.

[airfryerazzi]

Imagine y2k earthy black reader just walking into class late. Their uniform altered and their tatties + piercings out on full display.

Imagine y2k earthy black reader getting scolded by all their teachers except Midnight, who applauds their style and sense of creativity.

Imagine y2k earthy black reader sitting down at the lunch table with the Baku-squad casually, as if they were oblivious to all the awestruck stares the students around were giving them. Whether they wore pants or a skirt, they looked incredibly sexy.

Imagine y2k earthy black reader during physical training, their sexy self wiping the floor with their classmates, barely breaking a sweat because "Sweating is for the weak". Don't you know how long it took to look and smell that good?

Imagine y2k earthy black reader getting a particularly high grade for a test they claimed to not have study for. "It's not my fault I'm this smart," they'd smirk confidently as Kaminari leans his head on their shoulder, sulking silently at his own results.

Imagine y2k earthy black reader inviting the class to their crib. Their home was absolutely stunning, like a place you'd find in a Pintrest post. Their room was just the embodiment of their personality perfectly. Posters, figurines, framed photos, other cool shit proud on display and don't get me started on that gamer station...

Yee.

[thelibraryoflightandflowers]

The Son of A General

Ao3 Link

Link to Masterlist (for parts 1-2)

Part 3 of my Garrick X Male reader series! A bit of background into the reader, and the scheduled plot twist.

You found yourself wishing, as you often did lately, that your dragon could be at least slightly more…sociable. If only so you could properly fly with a wing, instead of being stuck doing what you had trained to do for years, yet hated doing. 

You knew what everyone said about you, once they knew who you were. You were, after all, your father’s son. And you hated it. Hated that you were stuck at the beck and call of him and the King, hated that instead of protecting your people and your borders you spent your time in dungeons and prison cells so deep underground that the screams you caused (that you never stopped hearing) wouldn’t affect the nobles and soldiers that lingered above. 

Melgrens were known for being ruthless; at least that was how you were raised. Your father had taught you everything you know, however since he now had more pressing matters to attend to, you were stuck doing the dirty work. 

It certainly didn’t help that your signet was perfectly designed for this…career path. Gods how your father had practically salivated upon learning of it. The ability to cause others pain without even touching them - creating wounds simply by looking, burning flesh from bone with a simple gesture, bruising with a flick of the wrist; you’d honed the skill to perfection - not by choice, but by order. 

“General.” You didn’t address your father as such normally, and you certainly would not in this setting “The information you wanted is here. I have a scheduled leave, so I will be back tomorrow morning.” Simple, and direct. Seeing your father made a well of confusing emotions rise within you; it was easier to just give him what he wanted, and leave. To see Violet, see how she’d been doing - to see Garrick. The months had passed in a blur, you had blinked and you had been…whatever you were, for six months, going on seven. You knew you’d have to tell him at some point. You’d seen the rebellion relic on his neck, and you knew that no matter how much you cared for him, however much you agreed with the rebellion, any feelings he had for you would disappear the moment he found out who you were - and what you did. It was selfish, and unfair, but you wanted to keep him for a little longer; even if it meant that when he inevitably found out and cut you out of his life it would hurt that much more. 

“Your leave has been canceled, Lieutenant. There is a new prisoner, and I am far too busy to bother. Get what you can out of him, and dispose of him. Now.” 

You wanted to argue, wanted to scream because the one thing that made you feel happy, loved, made you feel good was being, albeit unknowingly, withheld from you. But you couldn’t, not without your father finding out what you’d been doing, finding out about him, and you would rather die than let your father even come close to Garrick Tavis. 

So you nodded, gave him the file, and left. 

Garrick

“Where is he?” Violet asked, whether to herself or to Garrick, he wasn’t sure. He tried to tamp down any budding worry; clearly you could handle yourself, you were probably just late. You had to be. 

“I’m sorry Garrick, I don’t think he’s coming. I’m going inside; I’ll try to find out what happened, I just…I can’t wait here hoping.” Violet spoke quietly from his side. He tried not to get annoyed. That rational part of his brain understood her logic; she’d already been waiting an hour for you before he showed up (he’d gotten caught up with smuggling weapons to Xaden, though he certainly couldn’t tell her that). 

“Sounds good, Sorrengail.” He curtly responds. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about her, and after Xaden’s little freak out he knew how he felt, which made it even more complicated. He didn’t move, nor watch her as she walked off the flight field that was growing lighter and lighter by what felt like the minute. 

“He isn’t coming, Strong One.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Sit against me. I will not have you catching a cold because you insist on spending your night out here without proper gear.”

He sat against Chradh’s warm side, letting his warmth soak into his back.    

“What if he’s hurt?” He asks aloud, unable to help himself.

“Spriolag is one of the strongest dragons alive today; he rivals Tairn and Codagh, though he doesn’t act like it. Your mate will be fine, if he has been hurt. Spriolag’s pride will not allow him to lose such a rider.” 

“How do you know that?”

“Dragons know everything. Stop asking insulting questions.”

He leaned further into his dragon, feeling exhausted. He’d been out here for at least a few hours, longer than he normally was absent from his bed. He would wait, though, until he could see the sun coming up over the flight field. He had to. 

“Tell me how you’re getting those daggers.” You forced your voice into a tone filled with malice and boredom, praying to the gods that this man would break. You’d hoped to break him fast enough to go see Garrick, albeit a little late, but this flyer was stubborn, and the window in which you could have made it in time had long since passed. 

“G-go…to…he-” The flyer cut himself off with a scream of pain as you opened yet another wound on his chest. You held back the groan of frustration. You hated this, hated yourself for hurting someone you agreed with; you knew what they were up against, after all. You just couldn’t do anything to help them. You also hated that. You wished, more than anything, that you had been someone else’s son. Not just because your father was as cruel off the battlefield as he was on it, but because if you had been a nobody, someone nameless and faceless to the King, you could have left and switched sides already. Unfortunately, you were under as strict a watch as any prisoner here, so there was no way to escape this. You had tried, to be sure; you had the scars to prove it, but there was no hiding from your father. You readied yourself again to strike, and sent a little bit of heat towards the tips of the man’s fingers; just enough to (hopefully) scare him into talking. You could tell he was almost there; he just needed one last push. 

It worked. 

“Okay, okay!” He cried, his hands trying to get away from a flame that wasn’t there. “The cadets! The…cadets are smuggling them out to us.” He heaved a sigh of relief as you let the heat drop. 

“Which cadets?” You asked, dreading the answer you had a nagging sense of dread was coming.

“The kids of the leaders of the rebellion…the ones with the rebellion relics” He wheezed out. You froze. That meant…Garrick. Fuck. Fuck. You decided right there that you were, for the first time in your life, going to defy orders. You wouldn’t rat Garrick out; you couldn’t. You looked at the man; he was a Lieutenant; it was plausible that he wouldn’t know. It had to be plausible. You made a motion with your hand, stopping his heart in a second. You knew he would be another face you would never forget. You gathered the file you’d created, checked it over and smoothed out your face. You knew your father’s signet wouldn’t give you away; he couldn’t see anything when more than three marked ones were involved. You just had to hope you wouldn’t give yourself away either. 

Garrick

He was tired. And cold. And the sun was starting to come up. He got up from where he sat against his dragon, and silently walked across the flight field. You hadn’t come. Violet hadn’t come back; he’d have to go find her at some point to see if you found out what happened. He had prayed to every god and goddess they worshiped that you were safe, and unharmed - that you were alive. He stumbled to his room, knowing that he’d have to be awake in less than three hours. He couldn’t afford to miss a day because he had slept on the flight field. As he approached his door, he was met with Violet’s face, looking far too awake for his liking. It was like she didn’t care. 

“What?” He barked gruffly. He was too worried and tired to bother being nice.

“He’s okay.” She said softly. “I can’t tell you how I know, but I do. He’s fine.”

“Why can’t you tell me how you know? How do I know you’re not lying, Sorrengail?” He knows his voice betrays some of the pain and panic he’s feeling, but he doesn’t care. 

“You’re going to have to trust me, Tavis. You were always going to have to trust me at some point.” He largely ignores her, opening his door. 

“I’ll cover for you, if you want. So you can get some sleep.” She offers, and damn if Garrick feels himself liking her just a little bit more. 

“...Thanks, Sorrengail.” They both know that he’s thanking her for more than just offering to tell Xaden that he’s sick or something. He falls into bed, trying to make up for the sleep he lost. He’d try to go to his afternoon classes, but for now all he wanted was the comfort and safety of his bed. And to try to believe what Violet said. You had to be okay; even if it scared him how much he cared.

Your father had believed you. You’d told him the same thing you’d told him every time you interrogate someone; they didn’t know how the flyers were getting those daggers. Only this time, you hadn’t been telling quite the truth. You walked to your room, intent on showering, then sleeping like the dead. As you rounded a corner, you were met with the face of General Sorrengail herself. You stopped just short of hitting her, standing at attention as much as your aching muscles would allow. 

“General.” You said, nodding.

“You look exhausted, Lieutenant. They really are running you ragged here, aren’t they?” She asks, a small smile playing on her lips. She’d watched you grow up, she was as much a mother-like figure to you as your own (not that your own was anything like a mother, when she bothered to be around). 

“Yes, General.” You responded, too tired to play the games that you were awful at anyway. 

“You gave Violet quite the scare last night, Lieutenant. Perhaps I’ll have a word with your father, explain why you’ve been scheduling leave this often? I’d hate to keep two such good friends apart.” You snapped awake, suddenly understanding what she had thought. You also realized that this could work to your advantage. 

“Yes, General. That would be…most helpful.” You tried to seem bashful, hoping the lessons Halden had given you on court behavior (half-assed though they were) to pull it off. She seemed to buy it, thankfully. 

“I take it I’ll see you at the Reunification day celebration at Basgiath, then?” She inquired. 

“Yes, General.” The King had ordered it, after all. Halden, lucky bastard that he was, got to skip it (his father was still terrified of losing another son to Basgiath’s walls), but you were stuck going, playing a game you’ve always excelled at fumbling so badly that your father threatens to disown you. 

The General smiles, nods, and continues on her way to your father’s office. You breathed a sigh of relief, before heading to your room, now hoping to wash off the blood and that encounter. 

You could only hope that you got to see Garrick before then; you knew that if you didn’t tell him before, he’d find out at the celebration that he was also being forced to attend in a couple of weeks. If not…you really hoped that he’d hear you out. You couldn’t think about what might happen otherwise. Not right now.