#thiriam

tagged by @mooniamsblog (thank you, sweetie ♥️)

unedited snippet from the monster in me loves the monster in you)

TW: Stalking; Blood and Violence Mention; Decapitation Mention; Dark Fic

His stalker. His torment. His obsession. While this mysterious person seemed obsessed with him, Theo was obsessed with trying to figure out who it could be, what their next move would be, and if they would go after anyone else. If this was going to end. Corey’s death was enough for him to bear, and he didn’t even want to have to do it; if he had known, he never would have started anything with Corey. It would have saved the life of an innocent person. Someone too good for this world.

That image never left his mind, he dreamt with it. The head in the cardboard box. His lifeless face. He saw his mutilated body on television, the cause of death given as a possible animal attack in the forest; but Theo knew it wasn’t any animal, what kind of animal would send its victim’s head to someone else’s house? Theo didn’t know how, but it was a person, and whatever came up in Corey’s autopsy was some kind of mistake that someone let slip through. Theo knew it was the work of his stalker.

This stalker seemed to know exactly where he was and what he was doing. Out of the hundreds of people he saw every day, one was spying on him and watching his every move. He had even entered his house. Not to steal anything or even do anything to him. If the intention wasn’t to observe him, then the purpose was to leave sticky notes scattered in various places, seeming to know that Theo would find them real soon.

It was sickening and terrifying.

theo/kira/liam (with the bi flag colors) - for @thiamsxbitch

Happy (late) Birthday Friendo!!!

This was made as an attachment to Nate's fic he wrote for Jaque (see here, it's adorable).

tagged by @thiamsalpha (thank you 🧡)

from ‘the monster in me loves the monster in you’

“Are you drunk?” Theo heard a voice behind him, which made him turn to face whoever had asked the question.

He didn’t know if the guy was asking him directly or someone else at first, but he didn't care, just forced a smile to keep the sadness and hatred from mixing with the fucking job he had to show up to every day to survive in that forsaken town. (If Theo wanted interesting things to happen in the city, there he have it! His fucking prayers were answered. Three murders in the space of three months. Good job, Theo!)

Somewhere along the line, he needed a distraction. The gym was fine until his feelings and thoughts turned bloodthirsty and violent. He hated his stalker and what they made him feel. He wanted to grab them by the neck and beat them to death. Those thoughts were terrifying. They made Theo feel wrong and dirty. He didn’t like it. Therefore, he needed another option to distract himself: to get fucking hammered.

And what better place than a nightclub full of drinks to stop his mind from racing with images of Malia and Stiles dead and decapitated, just like Corey, like a horror show?

If Derek didn’t catch him, so what? He might get time off work, but he couldn’t get a break from the rent-free atrocities that plagued his mind. Soon enough, this whole affair would land him in a sanatorium. He certainly wasn’t sane anymore.

no one asked, but here i am :)

unedited snippet from the first chapter of ‘the monster in me loves the monster in you’

“A police officer died, are you trying to cause the death of another?”

“Listen, you dumbass,” Malia slapped Theo on the head. “Parrish has the experience we don’t, and with him, we can do things in secret. We don’t need to involve the sheriff. We just need more. There’s always a slip-up, didn’t you learn anything from Stiles?”

“Yes, he likes fingering and doggy style. Nothing involving police investigations.”

Malia grimaced.

“What?” Theo asked. “Just because he’s the sheriff’s son, he has to be interested in investigations? That sounds more like you.”

“He is interested in investigation. He’s getting a degree! Did you two just have sex?”

“I wish. He talks a lot, but never about that. It’s strange that he hasn’t mentioned it, since he seemed to want something serious with me, even though I didn’t. Well, let’s say we do this with Parrish, I may have Stiles on my list of suspects.”

Malia scoffed. Theo immediately glared at her with raised eyebrows.

“What? You don’t believe that Stiles, who seems to insist on me, could be the person behind all this?”

“Theo, Stiles is the most clumsy idiot I have ever seen. He might even be trying to join the FBI, which should already rule him out of your potential list, why risk his future with this mess? Besides, the guy in the photos isn’t tall.”

tagged by the lovelies @honestlydarkprincess @genetic-hellhound and @nightshade-emrys 🩷

from the next chapter of ‘the monster in me loves the monster in you’

“How many times have I told you not to walk around naked?” She wasn’t really angry; in fact, there was an amused tone in her voice, but he always expected something like that.

“About a billion times?” he teased, his lips curving even further. ”It’s a hot night.”

She rolled her eyes. Liar.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she whispered cautiously, walking around him, her fingers dancing softly beneath his skin.

He bristled.

“I don’t think anyone sa—”

She pinched his nipples, and the unexpected aggression made him gasp, slurring his words.

“We both know I’m not talking about you being seen naked.”

Of course not.

tagged by @genetic-hellhound @royal-callahxn @anonymouscreatorao3 and @mmoosen (thank you 🧡🧡)

TW: Kidnapping; Threats of Violence; Psychological Torture; Cigarette Burn; Violence; Dark Fic

“Having fun... Malia?”

A shiver ran up Malia’s body, all the way to her spine, spreading through her veins like electricity when a male voice reverberated in the darkness, singing her name melodiously, as she had never heard it before. As if the man were savoring every word. As if she were special. It bordered on being both attractive and frightening, although being special to whoever was keeping her captive could only mean one thing. And that was far from being something good.

A spark appeared in the darkness, its fiery rustling mingling with the tsk-tsk of a lighter. Smoke filled the air, slow, heavy footsteps drawing ever closer to her body as the stench of cigarettes clung to her nostrils. Malia hadn’t noticed, not until a light was turned on, and a man in a leather jacket and dark jeans seemed to materialize in front of her along with the light, but her body trembled uncontrollably on the chair where she was tied, her clothes soaked from the rain and clinging to her body, which was covered in mud and who knows what else. Blood, probably. Because, somehow, she hadn’t died after being dragged into the forest by whatever it was that pulled her into the thicket at high speed.

It couldn’t be that guy, could it?

The man stopped beside her, leaning against a nearby counter. He took another drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke in her face. Malia gritted her teeth, anger filling her bruised and aching body. He pulled the cigarette away from his lips and raised his arms, a wicked grin lighting up his rigid face.

“Congratulations, you found it,” he informed her, quoting what was written on the single sticky note she had received. “I hope you’re as happy as I am.”

Malia wanted to kick his balls. Hard.

That’s when she realized. The guy in the hoodie. His short stature. The saved photos on her camera. It was him! Laughing at her frightened, vulnerable features, unable to move under his hungry and sinister gaze, as if Malia were the caged mouse he was about to experiment on. Her heart was racing, and anger and anguish mingled in her mind. She was possessed, yes, but she also wanted to cry. Everything hurt, and there was nothing she could do to alleviate those feelings.

“Malia Tate,” The man began humming her name once more, drawing her attention back to the conversation. “You should have listened to me, you have no idea who you were messing with.” His fingers gripped her chin tightly, digging his nails into her skin as he moved too close, unsettling her. “You’re not as smart as you think you are. A pretty face, sure, but you don’t know me. I’ll be your worst nightmare and you won’t even be sleeping. You’re mine until I decide you’re no longer worth it. It’s not a choice, just a warning.”

His disgusting cigarette breath made Malia dizzy for a moment, her stomach churning. She closed her eyes, tears finally welling up between her closed eyelids, her fists, the knuckles of her fingers already white from the force with which she clenched them, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn’t stop trembling.

Malia knew how to use different types of weapons, thanks to her and Allison’s father, Chris Argent, both natural-born, professional hunters. She trained krav maga alongside her girlfriend for years. She carried a taser and pepper spray. She knew how to defend herself. However, she was caught off guard in a way she couldn’t prevent, and the stupid storm only worked against her. As if it knew Malia was going to be attacked and was working with that psycho to kidnap her.

Now she was in a chair that looked like one of those she seen in movies, used to torture people. Steel rings encircled her wrists, stomach, and heels, binding her in a way that prevented her escape, and even as she struggled like an idiot, her body wouldn’t budge. All she managed to do was make the stupid chair creak under her weight.

Malia was vulnerable in front of a man who had decapitated her best friend’s ex-boyfriend. Completely defenseless. After being threatened by him. What kind of hope could she cling to to save Theo, herself, and their families? Allison was in danger too. She couldn’t do anything about it tied to that fucking chair.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetie?” the man asked, his eyes scanning her entire body before meeting hers.

Through clenched teeth, Malia asked, “What are you going to do to me?”

The man remained silent, took a deep drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Malia’s face again, and then, in a quick movement, the cigarette butt was pressed aggressively against her bare thigh. Tears streamed down her cheeks, which were covered in cuts, and her scream startled the room, followed by a mournful sob.

The man, then, replied, “Have fun.” He smiled wickedly, the image a blur before Malia’s tear-filled eyes.