#his brothers think this is a bullshit defense

[batfamilycannons]

Pt. 1 Hypocretical, secret disaster eldest sibling, Dick Grayson

Dick: Tim! How can you have not slept for two days?! That’s so unhealthy! You need sleep! Don’t run yourself into the ground, baby bird.

Also Dick *Hasn’t gotten a full nights sleep in 15 years, hasn’t gotten any sleep in 72 hours*

[corroded-hellfire]

My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 

[starringthesturniolos]

baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo

summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.

"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.

On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.

"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"

Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.

"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"

"Oh shut up" you sigh.

I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.

"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.

"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.

"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.

Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.

After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".

"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.

"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.

"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.

"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.

He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"

He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.

He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.

"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.

Send in request, I could always use some more inspo

Love, Mya

[tarjapearce]

YOU CANT JUST LEAVE US HEARTBROKEN LIKE THAT 😭😭😭😭😭

HOW DO THEY MAKE UP??!!!!!

he better does grand gesture, and apologizes the right way!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭



Ngl, I'm so nervous about this. 🫣. Hope you like ~

Pt. 3

Miguel remained glued to the door where you just left. It wasn't the raucous door slam he had expected. Dread sit on his gut at the quietness of your departure.

You weren't one for boasting up or make a show out of the situations, but you had your temper and seeing this quiet yet nerve wrecking side of you only enervated his anger. Froze it completely, leaving him with a whirlwind of emotions that mutinied in his head to be felt first.

Self loathe and guiltiness the main contenders.

His arms rested on his chest, crossed. Defensive as the creaking door from Gabriel's room opened wider.

"Miguel?"

Gabriel's voice echoed so distant in his head, despite his younger brother being a few steps away from him. A raging stupor spreaded through his limbs.

"You ok?" Gabriel tried even though he already knew the answer. He just gave a silent nod and Gabriel didn't pry further. He'd try later.

----

One week. It had been one week since you had crossed that door and vanished from his life. His mind was a corded mess of over thinking, intrusive thoughts and of course, you.

No matter how much he tried to overwork himself back in the lab, his mind often gravitated towards you.

What would you been doing? We're you doing the same as he was? No. You were probably crying and letting it all out. Something he was still working on his own. Of course you'd recommend therapy, but again, pride and fear always came his way. He was doing fine, wasn't he?

Bullshit.

Lying to himself was another thing he had perfected to a T. And it was low key terrifying for him for you to see underneath the layers (he had made sure to build sturdier), with such ease after a couple of months into the relationship with you.

But there he was, tired bones, body and soul aching from the lack of sleep. His stomach churned at the little food he consumed, the rest was coffee, to try and keep himself awake.

Cause after trying to call you next day, the only reply he got was the automated announcement of the operator.

The number you're trying to reach is no longer available or is out of reach, please contact your-

And the message kept replaying over and over. His texts didn't go through. And it didn't help that Peter arrived with the box full of his stuffs you had kept.

Peter's words fell upon deaf ears.

Peter always knew how to give him his space, but wouldn't hesitate to step up, even if it meant to be called nosy and annoying by him later. He knew he meant good. But he wasn't ready to fully grasp the fact that you had left. All thanks to him and his insecurities, something you had embraced and loved without restrains.

You loved him.

His chest constricted at the raw memory of you saying that. And tightened even more upon laying down and feel your empty space in his bed. The pillow was still deflated in the shape you had left it that fateful morning. He didn't puffed it up, fearing that the little scent of you etched to it would fade forever.

He'd fall sleep watching that small space, hoping to feel you in the morning, snuggled next to him, with your head nested on the crook of his neck, holding him like a tiny marsupial that refused to be separated from it's tree.

It was when he slept the most. Soundly and comfortable. But now, only bad dreams came for a visit.

There was no good morning kisses, no bantering for whose turn was to make the breakfast and coffee. No morning sex that probably made Gabriel uncomfortable, but the younger O'Hara was too into his business and polite to say anything. No more corny movie nights he indulged with you just for the sake of hearing you laugh at the terrible acting and cringe dialogues.

No more of your hands playing and caressing his hair just cause you wanted so, no more excited bear hugs everytime you saw him. No more of your comforting touch and words whenever he had a bad dream. No more you praising him. No more you.

Gabriel had tried to distract him, but the effort only lasted for so little that he went back to his silent mourning.

He missed it all. Missed you.

---

Gabriel let Peter and Jess in, Peter's muffled voice trying to appease a caustic Jessica whose eyes settled on a surprised Miguel on the kitchen, drinking his fifth cup of coffee.

Peter gave him an awkward smile as he followed Jessica.

"You look terrible."

Despite her anger, Jessica only pointed at his unkempt and disheveled looks.

His stubble had grown, the eyebags underneath his lower lids more prominent, bloodshot eyes that were set in a void and solemn gaze, skin ashy from the lack of sun.

"Miguel" Peter started with a sigh, "You're clearly not fine. "

He grunted and sipped the bitter coffee.

"Look, this is not our business, but we're here as your friends."

Jessica saying your name and how you were doing made his grip on the mug tighter.

"I just... don't understand. You out of everyone know the relationship with her family. Yet you accused of being like them."

"I did not"

Miguel rubbed his face and sighed. Already feeling the emotional toll he had been neglecting for the past week.

"Are you calling my friend a liar, then? She came to me, weeping, with a hecking anxiety attack saying you didn't love her anymore."

"That's.... Not true."

The constricting feeling came harder than ever upon hearing Jess' words. How could you even think that he didn't love you? He did. More than he let on. But pride was surely costing him big time.

"Then own your mistakes."

Miguel's eyes casted away from the both. Peter rubbed his neck and sighed.

"Look, Mig. We're not telling you what to do here. But I can't stand see you like this. Not when you know you can do the right thing."

"It's not that easy"

"It was easy for you to judge her-"

"Jessica"

Peter frowned and Jessica glared

"It was easy for you to say such things to her, but it's hard to apologize?"

"Exactly. You think I don't know I fucked up? I know I have to make things right-"

"Then do it!. And take a bath, I can smell you from here."

Miguel half scowled half pouted at her words. Peter just patted his shoulder softly before leaving.

-----

His first attempt at apologizing failed. He had sent flowers to your job, only for the delivery man to tell him that you had returned them, along with the box of chocolates you've always wanted to try.

He wanted to taste the waters before actually step in. And so far they'd drown him if he ventured deep enough.

But he was fighting against the tide.

---

The cold rain had soaked him, ruined the flowers and his hairstyle. He wanted to make things right, but knew that couldn't do it looking like shit. He had taken the time in getting ready. Black pants and shoes, a deep green button shirt, one that you had picked for him and praised him nonstop about it in one of your shopping outings.

Necklace in one of his pockets, flowers in one hand and his heart on the other.

Gabriel just teased him with a smile before he left. Glad that his brother seemed with a spark again.

But the rain, had ruined his plans. And now he was soaked, hair a wet wavy mess, shivering with a single tulip in his hands, all before your apartment's door.

He'd know you'd be home, it was your resting day. Taking a deep breath and swallowing back the anxiety gnawing at his head and heart, he rang the doorbell.

Small taps of your fuzzy slippers echoed closer and closer, your voice soft and serene. The same way you'd talk to him when he was grumpy or in a bad mood.

Who were you talking to?

The thought of you moving on so fast crossed his mind but instantly was fulminated. You weren't like that. You still loved him.

Right?

His breath hitched once your door swung partially open, revealing you. A messy bun ontop your head, phone on hands, puffed eyes that were red from previous crying, a sweater double your size and comfy pj pants.

"I-I'll call you later. Hm. Bye" You sniffled and hung up the call.

You closed the door on his face and he stilled for a moment, the shuffling of your locks finally turned to swung open the door completely. He swallowed thickly

Mahogany eyes locked in yours, you frowned and he sighed.

"May I... Come in?"

Miguel sighed and offered you the lone and wet white tulip. Your favorite, as a peace offer.

"Please?"

Despite the inner turmoil in your heart, you stepped aside and let him in.

Baby steps.

He swallowed as he ventured deeper in your home. It had changed little to nothing. Just like you. The only visible change in your factions was the restless look he shared with you.

You went to the bathroom and brought him a towel. He didn't know how would you react if he just pulled you closer and held you tightly.

He just took the towel instead, brushing cold fingers against warm ones. His body almost sung in delight at the little feeling of you again.

But he knew he had lost the right to your physical affection. To your attention, and the fact that you had received him and still looked after him in the admist of his wrongdoings, humbled him.

You went to the kitchen and put the kettle to boil. He was on the edge as he removed his shirt and wet clothes.

"W-What are you..." You looked at him in mild alarm as he wrapped the towel around his waist. The storm kept raging outside, thunders only enhancing the heavy atmosphere that settled between you both.

"Relax, don't wanna catch a cold."

His skin full of goosebumps, probably cold by the unforgiving rain. You went back to the living room and fetched the blanket you were using.

"Here."

You only watched him, but he refused to meet your gaze just yet.

"Im sorry."

He blurted and his eyes softened at you bracing yourself.

"I fucked up, didn't I?."

"Big time."

He nodded and wrapped himself the blanket on his shoulders. Being both emotionally and physically naked before you wasn't something he had planned on. But it was one of the least of his concerns.

You had put the tulip in a small vase and soon poured two mugs of hot cinnamon and milk tea, a drinking habit he had rubbed on you.

You sat on the couch, he followed.

"I know you don't want me here but, I really need to make this right. If... you don't want to continue this, I'll understand. I'll respect whatever choice you make."

"I just don't know if I can trust you, Miguel."

A stab on his chest. A well deserved one. He nodded.

"Is there anything I can do to fix that? Can I still fix it? "

You sighed softly and shook your head, "I don't know. I want to believe you, believe that something like that won't ever happen again."

You squeezed the mug in your hands

"You have no idea how... your words hurt. Even worse when you looked at me with such anger and disgust. It felt like my family looking at me when I left them."

Your voice cracked and he tensed, but slowly reached for your hand. Relief washing over him as you didn't recoil from his touch this time. The tea long forgotten.

"Te prometo, que nunca volverá a pasar. Y sabes que soy un hombre de palabra. I know what I said is unjustifiable, But I can't stand this... space between us" (I promise this won't happen again. You know I'm a man of word)

You knew he wasn't good with feelings, that he sometimes needed a reminder to  look for help, the way he breathed as he spoke the last two words made you smile a little. He was trying.

"I know" You sniffled and wiped your eyes.

"Do you... want me to stay away until you feel ready to try it again?"

A vehement shake of your head.

"I need to get it out cause... I don't know if I can't keep bottling up these things anymore. I'm not... sweeping my feelings under the rug anymore. I'm tired of that."

"That's... something I need to keep working on"

His hand slicked his front bangs away from his face.

"It's something I've always admired from you, mi niña." His hands grabbed yours once more, relishing in the warmth and grounding feeling your body provided him, "You've... always made it look easier. I tried to learn but... I guess it doesn't works like that."

"It takes time. And willingness to share. I could teach you."

"Have you... ever felt like I'm not willing to share things or that I'm too closed off with you?"

"Yes. I feel like mostly of the times I need to take initiative for you to do things with me. That's why I said you didn't want me"

He rubbed his face as his chest constricted, just like his throat.

"I know, sometimes I'm an ass"

"Un pendejo, de hecho" (A dumbass, actually)

He chuckled and nodded as he entwined his hand with yours.

"And I'm sorry if I ever took you for granted. I'm sorry for... the many things I should've done better but I didn't cause I knew you'd stay with me anyways. And... I'll forever regret that it came to this point for me to realize that" 

He cradled you close and held you with such gentleness it made your heart thump in relief. One of his arms went around your waist as his other hand caressed your hair.

Miguel was now resting on the armchair of your couch, you lying ontop of him. He didn't need the blanket anymore. His hands were too fearful of you slipping away from him.

"Have you ever felt judged by me?" Your voice soft, and melodic, music to his anxious heart.

He shook his head and pressed a firm kiss on your temple. You closed your eyes, melting into the caresses he gave as his hands roamed gently your back, saying 'She's here. She's real. She's mine again'

"All the opposite. You really felt that I didn't love you?"

"That and that you didn't want me anymore"

He sighed and cupped your face to give you a tiny and gentle kiss as he squeezed you against him.

"Mensa." (Dummy)

Your hand reached up to pull a strand of his hair as a little vendetta and he chuckled.

" Te voy a demostrar que te amo" (I'll prove my love for you)

"Can't wait" There was a little flush on your cheeks. You knew that his heartfelt and most sincere words came better in spanish.

There was a silent moment, the drip drops of the rain against your window were the perfect lullaby for you to close your eyes.

Tonight you'd sleep soundly, so would he. His hand on your hair trembled. These forms of intimacy always made him marvel at how easy was to keep you and himself happy.

"I've missed you." He whispered only for you. Your heart frisked in contempt, cause only you could make him say such words.

"I've missed you too"

He caressed your cheek once more and smiled gently.

"Are we good?"

"We're working on it"

The heavy and unpleasant feeling slowly melting off from him. He smiled as he secured you in his arms.

---

The dim lit room soon made him to yawn, awakening in a different place. A soft startle, but feeling his arms occupied with you, snuggled against him, face hidden in the crook of his shoulder, deeply asleep.

His arms couldn't get enough of feeling your skin. Feeling you, to make sure his mind wasn't hallucinating. You had given him another chance and he was ready to prove himself worthy of you.

His soft kisses on your hair stirred you awake as you hooked a leg on his waist, But when he mimicked you, his whole frame engulfed you, earning a little squeal.

He smiled as he kept crushing you.

"Miguel!" You whimpered and he let you go. Everything felt like before. Like it should.

"Want some breakfast? "

He whispered as he curled on you. you'd gladly make the big spoon if needed, strong hands cradling you closer as you nodded

"Later though, Let's stay five more minutes." You kissed his forehead in exchange.

Yeah, everything was as it should. His world was spinning again and you in the middle of it. His own moon and stars.

"Pitufina?"

You grunted at the nickname.

"¿Me amas?" (Do you love me?)

"Y mucho." ( A lot)

You mumbled in between sleepy whispers. the golden necklace once more around your neck.

"Do you?"

He grope you tighter at the question.

"More than I thought possible."

------

Taglist:

@kinkybandages

[sie-rui]

❀ SISTER, SISTER (REWRITE) | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 sano family 💿  female reader, second pov (you/your), angst and fluff, hurt / comfort, family, platonic relationship, implied soulmates, tw: canonical character death, au - canon divergence, timeline: pre-canon (headcanon), timeline: pre-moebius (imagine), headcanon + imagine 📅 july 21, 2021 🎙️ i accidentally deleted this. i had to rewrite… if someone has the original copy, please i beg of you, SEND it to me. i don’t really care if you plagiarized it or something, just give me the copy i beg. I had a breakdown because of this. 🔗 masterlist ,, parts: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05

Sano Shinichiro’s best friend isn’t just his platonic soulmate, they’re also his younger sibling’s older sister.

☆ Sano Shinichiro has a lot of tight-knit relationships (4lifers, some may say), but there is one that everyone unanimously agreed was his closest one.

☆ It was a wonder to some how the two of you become such close companions. To some, after seeing Sano Shinichiro with you, they easily understood.

☆ Meeting in school as his underclassman, it didn’t take long for you to get roped into his gang’s bullshit. It wasn’t that you were an official member but you were definitely someone. Someone to Sano Shinichiro. Someone.

☆ Sano Shinichiro is batshit crazy, especially during his younger years. It just so happened that you were crazy as well.

☆ In high school, you guys were definitely uncontrollable. Whatever Shinichiro did, you tagged along.

☆ As you grew older, the both of you were definitely calmer, outgrowing that childish recklessness the both of you had always shared.

☆ It was love. Not romantically, but it was love. The kind of love that Shinichiro was sure that in some other universe, the two of you were together as well.

☆ When someone tried insinuating that the two of you could start dating each other, the response was instant.

“With this asshole?” “With this bitch?”

☆ Shinichiro wonders if the reason why he’s always getting rejected by girls is because you’re always with him. You scoffed.

“Trust me, it’s not me. They just don’t like you.” “I have a great personality!” “Well your face isn’t that great.”

☆ Once Shin introduced you to his family, it was all over.

☆ Mikey had no reaction to your presence in the house at the start, blatantly ignoring you, giving you dead-eyes. You coddled on him, to his chagrin.

☆ Emma, on the other hand, adored you. To the point that Shinichiro and Manjiro wondered if this was really their sister.

☆ You managed to bribe Mikey with sweets. Not that you needed to because when he saw you picking on Shinichiro, he loved you already.

☆ As much as they want you to be a part of the family officially, they begged you not to marry their brother.

“Honestly, you can do better, Y/n-nee.” “Yeah. Shinichiro isn’t worth it.” “I’m right here?!” “We know.”

☆ Shinichiro thinks that they love you more than they love him. He doesn’t quite mind.

☆ Keisuke is Manjiro’s… friend, if you can even call him that. Mikey beats him up for fun. (In his defense, Baji asks for it.)

☆ It was only when you saw Manjiro literally kick a guy twice his size on the face, knocking them out cold, did you realize that this kid could literally kill you.

“Is Manjiro safe?” “Why are you saying that as if he’s some dog?”

☆ You love the kid, either way.

☆ You’d defend him from whatever happens. But if it’s a fight, you’re dropping out. Fuck no. Mikey can fight for himself. (If anything, you’re the one getting beat up.)

“Y/n-nee, Shinichiro hit me!” “Shin, don’t hit him! That was too hard.” “Why are you taking his side?!” “He brought home snacks for me and you’ve been pissing me off lately.”

☆ It does weird you out how he laughs at horror movies when the four of you watch at home, though. Everyone is screaming. You don’t know if he’s laughing at the gory scene on the television or at everyone’s reaction.

☆ Movie nights with the Sano family start during the afternoon because everyone wants a chance to pick a movie. 

☆ Sometimes, you get suspicious of Shinichiro disappearing randomly. He doesn’t answer your calls, nor his siblings’. When he comes back and you ask him to explain, he just grins at you and ruffles your hair. Asshole.

“It’s a secret.”

☆ MALL DATES WITH THE SANO FAMILY !!!

☆ It was supposed to be shopping with Emma but three people were tagging along, acting as if it was a coincidence, because they wanted attention from you as well.

☆ It would be a bloodbath. Emma wants to go shopping, Shinichiro wants to go to the arcade, Mikey wants to go home, Keisuke wants to go to a pet shop. 

☆ You want to go to the movies. That’s impossible because you’d never get to pick the movie you want to watch.

☆ When you get home, everyone is knocked out tired. After a whole day of complaining and fighting, you didn’t expect anything else. (You were also half-dead on the couch after all.)

☆ You stay over so much at Sano's house that you’re basically a member of that household. Their grandfather doesn’t quite mind.

☆ Their grandfather appreciates your presence in the house. It seems as if it has been livelier with you around. He doesn’t mind the noise.

☆ He  doesn’t quite understand how you can stand his grandchildren. For one, his eldest, Sano Shinichiro is running around, creating a gang and picking fights and getting his ass handed to him. Manjiro started calling himself some name, is addicted to fights, and refuses to learn anything else because apparently he’s going to take over Tokyo or something. Emma is… Well, that child seems to hate everyone. Then, there’s also Mikey’s friend, Keisuke. He doesn’t even have to say anything about that kid.

☆ He finally understood when he saw you laughing as you watched Keisuke and Manjiro get chased by wild dogs.

“She’s just as insane as them.”

☆ He says all of that but he loves all four of his grandchildren.

☆ Sometimes, it felt like you lived in that house more than your own. Shinichiro’s room is yours. (He did not agree to this. You sleep on his bed anyway.)

☆ Emma loves playing with your hair and styling it. She complains that her brothers’ hairs are too short. (That’s part of the reason why Mikey grew his out.)

☆ She also learned cooking from you. Honestly, you don’t know how they survived this long. The only thing Shinichiro can cook is curry and it’s shit.

“Shinichiro’s cooking sucks.” “You brat! Try starving!” “Instead of eating your food? Gladly.”

☆ Shinichiro annoys you to teach him how to cook better as well. Emma told him to get out of her kitchen.

☆ Mikey has this habit of judging people. He will blackmail you even before he learns the word blackmail. Be careful.

☆ Emma also has a bit of judging people, specifically her brothers. More specifically, Shinichiro’s sense of style and Manjiro’s inability to eat anything that isn’t sweet. She says that’s why he’s so stupid, his brain is filled with sugar.

☆ You can tell that the kids love each other so much though. You just hope that they can show that… properly.

☆ Shinichiro loves taking videos of everything, he uses this camcorder that was gifted to him years ago, on his 7th birthday. He has a shelf of tapes in his room. Later down the row, your videos were in the Sano Family Collection.

☆ It’s always noisy at that house. But it’s expected as it is home to five people.

☆ It only became silent when Shinichiro died.

☆ Everything was different after Shinichiro died. 

☆ On the night he died, that was the one night you chose to laugh at him when he asked if you wanted to stay at the shop with him to help fix up Mikey’s birthday gift for tomorrow.

“Hey, Y/n! You better be there for Mikey’s birthday tomorrow.” “How could I not go to my favorite Sano’s birthday?” “I thought that I was your favorite Sano- Don’t laugh!” “Goodnight, Shin.”

☆ Manjiro called you an hour later; that was your last conversation with Shinichiro.

☆ Of course, it hurt you. How could it not? Almost ten years of your life was spent with him, from high school until adulthood. He was family. He was someone. He was Shinichiro.

☆ Sometimes, it felt like a part of you died with him that night.

☆ But you had to be strong. Mikey and Emma were lost, confused, and they were looking at you. How could you show them that you didn’t feel like yourself anymore?

☆ You put on a smile, hardened yourself, and took care of them. They were your kids as much as they were Shinichiro’s.

☆ You spend the nights crying.

☆ Emma refused to leave your side. She cried when you even tried stepping out of the house’s door.

☆ Mikey never left his room the days that followed Shinichiro’s death. He barely ate, the meals you left outside his door barely eaten. You had to beg him to go out of his room on the day of the funeral. He almost didn’t come.

“Mikey, please. Please. Go see your brother before he has to go. Please, Manjiro.”

☆ You cried outside his door that morning. Begging him.

☆ He came out, eyes red, lips pursed.

☆ The funeral was attended by family, friends, members, people whose lives were changed because of Shinichiro. You find that in funerals, you can see how good of a person the deceased is from the people that visit.

☆ You had no tears left to cry during the funeral, even when people came to pat your shoulder and tell you that he was a good person. You knew that. Shinichiro is a good person. They didn’t have to tell you.

☆ You caught a glance of a boy with light hair standing at the very back. You didn’t recognize him but something was pulling you to him. He left before you could approach him.

☆ The first night after Shinichiro was laid down on his final resting place, you found yourself on the couch in the living room.

☆ That night was the hardest you ever cried for Sano Shinichiro.

☆ The silence was unbearable. 

☆ It took so long to finally stop shedding tears over the dead. When you realized that you stopped crying for him, it made you break down even more.

☆ You couldn’t understand how Mikey and Emma manage to go about their day as if nothing was wrong. How they declined therapy, or seeing someone. 

☆ You never knew that it was because you were right there. They could act as if nothing was wrong because you were still there.

☆ Sometimes, you just want to run away and never look back. To forget about Shinichiro, about Mikey, Emma, their whole bloodline. It was heavy. It was so heavy. But you didn’t.

☆ That was love.

☆ But it was Mikey and Emma who insisted that you take the job offer overseas.

“We’ll be fine here, Y/n-nee.” “Yeah, we’re not babies. We can take care of ourselves just fine.” “Well, I can. Mikey can’t.” “Hey!”

☆ Your eyes were teary when you packed your bags and left, promising them that it would only be for a while, that you’d come back soon.

“They’re at their little meeting.”

You feel the breeze caress your skin, like an old friend greeting you home. Shibuya never changed in the years that you were gone. From their grandfather’s words, it seemed like the Sano siblings didn’t change as well. Seriously, why is the meeting still at night?

You just came back to Japan and the very first place that you went was, of course, home. The Sano Household. Only to find out that the two kids that you were planning to surprise weren't even there.

Their grandfather had welcomed you warmly like you were his own grandchild, telling you that as usual, they were out having a little meeting. You thanked him, leaving your bags, before finding yourself in the cold once more.

You were unofficially officially tasked to drag them home.

Mikey you can understand, but Emma? Why in the world is she hanging out with her brother? In her brother’s meeting? In her brother’s gang meeting? You wondered if starting or being in gangs was in the bloodline. It’s as if the Sano Siblings were destined to trouble, as if they’d get sick if they aren’t fighting something.

You adjust the plastic bag on your wrist. You bought some ingredients for dorayaki, planning on spending the night to make some with the siblings because you know that Manjiro wouldn’t be able to wait until tomorrow.

God, I love these kids too much.

The silence of the night was peaceful.

The silence of the night was broken by bellowing. 

“Who in the world is screaming in the dead of the night?”

You sighed, starting your trek up the steps of Musashi shrine. It wasn’t until midway did you finally start to recognize that voice. “Manjiro?” What the fuck.

Hurrying to the top, the shrine was crowded by rows of black uniforms, young teens in lines looking up at the shrine where the familiar strands of blond stood. You blink.

For a second, you saw Black Dragon. 

For a second, you saw Sano Shinichiro.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips, unheard in the midst of one Sano Manjiro’s yelling. Last you heard, there were barely 10 guys in the Tokyo Manji Gang. To think that that snotty brat who refused to eat anything that isn’t sweet is leading such a huge group, is succeeding in his once little dream.

Manjiro looked like Shinichiro, you realize, standing at the very back.

You shook yourself out of your stupor. No. You refuse to let yourself walk backwards, to let yourself see things that aren’t there, to remember moments long past.

Emma is standing off to the side with a cute girl beside her. At least she didn’t seem to be a part of the gang, wearing civilian clothes that you hoped was keeping her warm. You don’t want her getting sick. You march forward, ignoring the looks sent your way by the members as they try to stop you.

Without a pause, you start matching Manjiro’s screaming just as Emma starts, “Y/n-nee!-”

“Shut the hell up, Sano Manjiro!”

The silence of the night returns.

Wide obsidian eyes stare into your as you stand at the very front, at the bottom of the stairs where Mikey stood. “It is eleven in the fucking evening. Everyone is asleep. None of your members are talking. So tell me, why the fuck are you screaming?!”

There were murmurs behind you. He doesn’t seem to mind, a grin splitting his face, the cold mask he was wearing breaking as he jumps down, skipping steps. “Y/n-nee!”

“We’re going home!”

You step to the side, letting him land on the space where you once were, knowing that you were going to get tackled if you hadn’t dodge. Mikey is unnerved, simply turning around and jumping on you, arm hitting your throat.

Draken looked exasperated, knowing that the President wasn’t going to go back to whatever he was saying and it was up to him to adjourn for the night.

“You’re back!” He looks at the plastic bag. “ARE THOSE FOR DORAYAKI?!”

“Nuh-uh! Go back up there and finish your little club meeting.”

“But Ken-chin-”

“No!”

Mikey pouts as he gets pushed off of you. Ken gives you a thankful look as if you were an angel sent by the heavens to rein their spontaneous boss back. “Let’s go, Emma,” you call to the girl already hurrying over.

“Y/n-”

“No.”

You turn your back to Mikey, grabbing Emma’s hand as she looks at you with wide eyes, a growing smile on her lips. Seriously, screaming at 11 in the evening at a shrine where no one is talking? You worry for Mikey sometimes. 

“Keisuke, you’re invited as well,” you tell the boy in passing, glancing at the blond beside him. “Bring your pretty friend over as well.”

“Y/n-nee, when did you come back?”

You smile at her. “Just now.”

“And you headed straight here?”

Technically, no. You headed home. “Where else would I go if not to you and Mikey?”

It's just that your home is the Sano Family.

[divorcedfiddleford]

You made a post saying “it has been zero days since our last alex hirsch hates ford so much bullshit” and i know it was mostly hyperbole, but you have some really good takes that I would love to be elaborated on in terms of how ford is written

it really wasn't hyperbolic. over the years he's just really shown a lot of hatred towards this one character.

content warning: discussion of abuse

i want to start with this clip from the commentary which i think of as a microcosm for how the writers and especially alex think about ford.

transcript:

rob renzetti: i mean he [mcgucket] should've basically knocked ford out, and... and destroyed the... you know, tied him up, and, destroyed... and... alex hirsch, speaking over him: yeah he should've beat ford with a wrench and taken this thing apart piece by piece! he's the one who understood how to built [sic] it, but...

... so that seems like a pretty violent course of action. shall we unpack that?

ford is a character who's pretty explicitly written as a victim of abuse, and who now has c-ptsd as a direct result of the abuse he experienced. alex hirsch believes that ford deserved everything bad that happened to him, that it's ford's own fault, and that he also deserved worse things to happen to him. this is why, given every narrative chance, alex hirsch has piled more suffering onto ford's plate. the biggest example of this i can think of is in the journal, when he wrote that fiddleford was actively erasing ford's memory (despite this being a massive timeline contradiction which i still refuse to accept). because god forbid ford even have one remotely healthy relationship with somebody. that would be too good for him. ford was manipulated and lied to by bill, but alex repeatedly compares him to icarus, a teenager whose demise was the result of his own ignorance. this comparison is still so fucking offensive to me. the sun did not lie to icarus, did not guarantee icarus all of the happiness and success and sense of belonging which he had been denied all his life, did not actively shut out the voices of those around him who would try to help him.

alex in general has a very strange relationship with abuse. he seems to get really upset when people read his characters as victims of abuse. the strongest instance of this is actually not with ford, it's with pacifica - especially in the nwmm episode commentary. the episode says "pacifica's parents have conditioned her to respond to a bell" and alex says people got "the wrong idea" about it. like. dude. what the fuck. you wrote abuse. even if you didn't mean to, that's what you wrote. you can't say people got "the wrong idea" just because you didn't think about the subtext of what you were writing. anyway, back to ford: i believe this extends to him as well. alex wanted to write a character who's a foil to stan and who was a selfish unlikable victim of his own arrogance. however that's not what he wrote. he somehow seemingly accidentally wrote a really compelling and relatable awesome autistic guy who had to fight for every good thing he he ever had in his life only for it to be taken from him every single time. but alex can't let go of seeing ford as just "the opposite of stan". when he talks about "how someone as smart as ford could fall for bill's tricks", he refuses to realize he wrote a situation in which a man was being psychologically manipulated and tortured.

it goes back further, too. people repeatedly theorized that filbrick was... not a very good father, to say the least. on top of the very explicit and canon fact that he threw one of his children out on the street (seriously, there is no defense for this), people pointed out that stan would flinch at filbrick, that ford seemed upset by things filbrick said but dared not talk back, that filbrick was mad at stan not for hurting his brother, but for "costing the family potential millions". but alex can't have people seeing ford as sympathetic. ford can't have it bad like stan did. ford had to have everything and he lost it all because he sucks so much. so he wrote the graphic novel story where ford is filbrick's favorite child and filbrick also is not even a bad parent you guys he's just stoic. ignore the whole thing in dreamscaperers where stan perpetuates the abuse that filbrick did to him. ignore the fact that ford was shouting at stan and then completely shut up as soon as filbrick entered the room and did not say another word for the rest of the night. ignore all that because i just made up this story where he cries at a present from stan. filbrick loved his boys for sure you guys!!!

i'm not even touching on how alex repeatedly villainizes traits commonly associated with mental illness and neurodivergence. ford's hypervigilance becomes arrogance. his passion for knowledge means he's a know-it-all. his difficulty socializing and making friends means he's a misanthrope. his lingering resentment for the way he was raised means he hates his brother and is the worst human being to ever have lived. i could go on, go even further into how the finale reaffirms this, but i feel weird talking about this too much.

[readychilledwine]

Slow Hands

Part Two

A/N - Here's the first post for my "Here's to 100" Celebration week. 💙 I'm starting off with something I've received a few requests and messages about.

Warnings - mentions of abuse/trauma, mentions of child abuse, mentions of scars. Smut smut smut. Anal play, pet/master dom and sub dynamic play. Fingering, oral (m recving)/throat fucking. Minors DNI.

Part One

Lyria leaned closer into her mirror, examining the peachy nude lipstick she was wearing one more time before standing up straight and fixing part of her hair.

She was putting so much effort into her looks for a male. Something her brothers would frown upon since they normally praised her natural beauty. She had curled and braided her hair in places before pulling into a messy yet almost flirty, high ponytail. She had done her makeup. She put on expensive perfume.

She was even wearing a dress, something she had not done since being freed from the mountain. She brushed her hands along the baby blue fabric one more time before moving to look herself over in the full length mirror. The dress was one Rhysand had actually bought for her when he first brought her here. He loved the way the color sat on her golden skin tone, how it brought out the red in her hair. He had told her to save the little number for her first date in his court.

She didn't think he had planned on that date being with his brother. She pulled on her heels and put on the earrings she had picked for the night. A soft knock on her door made her heart beat pick up as she made her way over.

She opened the door, allowing Azriel in. "Hey, you're early." He was silent, staring at her with his mouth slightly parted. "Do I look okay? Rhys told me you had picked somewhere really nice, I can change." He grabbed her arm as she moved to go back to her room.

"You look stunning. I just didn't expect," he studied her again. The way the dress hugged her upper body, cinching at her small waist, before flaring out slightly and ending above her knees. Her long legs highlighted by the heels she was wearing. "Gods, you're beautiful."

She smiled softly at him. "You aren't so bad looking yourself." He was dressed in tighter black trousers, a black button up shirt. He had on several rings and a watch. "Let me grab my purse and we can go."

"You don't need your purse." He offered her his arm. "Let's just go get dinner."

—----------

The restaurant Azriel brought her to was an Inner Circle favorite by the Sindra. Faelights and candles adorned the patio they had opted to sit on to enjoy the beautiful summer evening.

He found himself falling into easy conversation with her. They had spoken about his upbringing, how they met Rhys, about how she got into healing.

There was a couple tense topics Azriel wanted to approach with the Heiress, like the topic of her older brothers, of her fathers, of why Rhysand had brought her here and hid her from all of them until now, but he danced around them waiting for her to make an opening. He was tired of waiting though, and needed answers before he put his plan for tonight into action.

"Do you talk to your brothers?" She looked at him a little shocked and blinked. "If you don't mind me asking." She does, a shadow whispered. Gentle.

Lyria sighed, pushing her pasta around her plate. "I speak with Eris and Lucien. I do not talk to the other males I have the unfortunate pleasure of being related to."

Azriel nodded. "What's Eris actually like? Behind that mask and bullshit self defense mechanism?"

Lyria looked at Azriel and sighed softly. "Ask me what you actually want to ask."

"What happened with Mor? Did you have part in it?"

Lyria shook her head. "I was a child when they were engaged. All I remember from that night was Eris had allowed me to ride with him on a border patrol. We found her, and he begged her to let us help. She refused. He asked if he could at least get her somewhere she'd be safer, and could be found because the Autumn forest isn't a good place for people my father deems unworthy."

Lyria sighed again. "He had me use what little knowledge I had on winnowing to get her to the clearing you found her in. He hardly slept that night. I know there were discussions between the two of them before this all happened, some hushed fighting, but Eris protected me from whatever little things he could that would lead to Beron hurting me or using me. Mor included."

Azriel nodded. Slowly processing the added information. "So he isn't lying?"

"Eris is kind, caring, funny. He would have never purposely hurt her." Lyria pushed her plate away. "And your question on Lu?"

"How much has he told you?"

Lyria shook her head again before beginning to play with her hair. "Not much honestly. He's not thrilled we are here together, but he understands I am grown enough to make my own choices."

Azriel nodded again. "Why did Rhys hide you for so long?"

She shook her head and held up her arm, a small bargain tattoo unveiling itself. "I can't tell you that. Can we go? I feel like some of this is better discussed alone."

—---------

Azriel pulled her closer to him as they sat on her couch. Talking had quickly turned into kissing, and kissing to heavy touching. Her nails were currently dragging down his bare chest, shirt long lost in some corner of her house, as he ran his own hands up her bare thighs.

Azriel lifted her, remembering he had wanted to repay a favor, and began walking her down the hallway to the room they were in last week.

It came alive the second they entered. Candles and faelights began to brighten, the sounds of nature setting in softly in the background. The soft smell of jasmine and honey hit his nose. "Why is it so… sensual smelling in here tonight?"

Lyria threw her head back with a soft moan as Azriel moved his kisses down her throat and neck. "Feyre and Rhys booked a couples massage lesson. I taught them little tips and tricks based in pleasure massage, they had champagne and chocolates, went home to try to make baby number two." Az chuckled softly against her throat. "Don't laugh. Couples in Velaris go crazy for my date night packages!"

Azriel kissed her deeply again, beginning to unlace the dress she was wearing. "And when is the last time someone took care of your body, Lyria?"

She knew it was a coded question. He was asking her two things. "It's been a while." She confessed.

"Let me take care of you, little fox. Get undressed. Lay on the table on your stomach." He kissed her gently before leaving the room to give her privacy to undress.

Lyria heated the table and blanket, sighing happily as she allowed the dress to fall and hung it. She got on the table, giggling as a shadow caressed her hair before covering her with a towel and Azriel entered.

Her approached her slowly, hand gently running her upper thigh to her ankle as he began to hold back anticipation over her newly exposed skin. He ran his hand softly back up the other leg, admiring every freckle on her shoulders before pausing to look at the scarring on her back.

She had been beaten with something, he ran a hand down one, the familiar sensation of a burn scar under his finger tips. Something that was on fire. "Who did this to you?"

Lyria sighed, turning to look at him with a brow raised. "Beron. His favorite method to put me in line with was a 9 tail whip. He liked how thin the scars were. If I was being extra defiant, he'd light the whip on fire after force feeding me faebane." She felt Azriel's grip on the table, his knuckles had turned white. Lyria pulled one of his hands to her head, laying it back down, "Start with the scalp and work down."

Azriel took a few stilling breaths, his hand instantly beginning to scratch and pull at her hair gently from the base. She let out a soft nose that brought him back to her, back to this moment. He didn't speak as he began to try to take care of her. He watched as she shivered slightly as he gripped the hair at the base of her neck. "You are beautiful," he whispered to her. "So beautiful."

Lyria moaned as his hands moved down to her neck and shoulders. He watched her shiver again, signaling to him he had found the right amount of pressure. He worked the tension out slowly before moving lower.

Lyria sighed softly as Azriel's hands ran along her back. He was being so gentle with her even if it was clear he didn't exactly know what he was doing.

She moaned as he applied more pressure to a tighter area, causing the male to grin with satisfaction. "Like that, little fox?"

"Just like that," her voice had become breathy, eyes fluttering shut. He was doing the best he could to remember her motions from the week before, copying them as closely as possible.

Azriel was almost desperate to see her fall apart the way he had. He was desperate to repay that favor. He allowed his shadows to begin exploring. Watching as they played in her hair, down her back, over the perfect ass he'd been dreaming about.

His goal was set as she moaned as he moved to another tight area. Lyria was going to cum for him tonight, and he honestly did not care how.

His methods became more focused, he began softer touches, watching as goosebumps danced across her skin. His shadows had begun to play in her hair. She was catching on to what was happening. "Whatcha doin', Az?" Her tone was playful as she lifted herself to peek over her shoulder at the blushing male.

Azriel smirked at her, a scarred hand going under the towel to touch the bare skin of her ass and squeezing it. "Repaying a favor." He started to use methods he knew worked. He began kissing her back and neck, whispering into her ear. "Do you want me to touch you, Lyria?"

"Cauldron boil me," she moaned softly as he bit her shoulder. He smirked as she arched her back slightly into him. He could smell her. The scent of their arousal mixing in the air as he moved his hand lower and closer to her core. A soft whimper left her throat. "Please."

"Please what, princess?"

"Touch me."

Azriel wasted no time, running his fingers on her already soaked core before pushing two into her. He used his other hand to tangle into her soft hair, pulling it to force her back to arch more. "Such a pretty little thing." She moaned loudly as his finger stretched her open.

"Azriel," her voice had gone completely breathy at this point. "Feels so good."

He smirked. "Just wait, princess. Your pretty cunt will feel so good wrapped around me." He pulled his fingers out of her, quickly turning her over on table and pulling her closer to the ledge. His fingers returned to her again, his thumb now joining in his assault on her by brushing against her clit. She had propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Azriel's fingers sunk in and out of her.

She was moaning his name, moaning praise, gasping softly with each delicious pull and push. "Look at me," he said. "Eyes on mine, princess." She looked into Azriel's hazel eyes. "Good girl. Such a good girl. Do you want to cum on my fingers?"

Lyria nodded, her red hair bouncing slightly at the motion. "Please."

"What do I get?" She whined as he curled his fingers into that perfect spot.

"Anything. You can have anything." Azriel hummed, and sped up his hands movements, groaning to himself as he felt her walls twitching around his fingers, tightening in excitement. Lyria was still following his orders, her beautiful eyes locked on his as her mouth fell open.

Azriel leaned forward, pushing her submission to find out exactly what he was dealing with. He grabbed her chin with his spare hand, holding her jaw open as he maintained eye contact with her, and then spit into her mouth. "Swallow." She did. "Cum, little fox." And she did. Lyria felt that coil snap in her stomach. He forced her to keep eye contact with him as she moaned out his name loudly, her toes curling. Shadows began to play along her breasts, pinching and tweaking her nipples causing more stimulation and prolonging her orgasm.

Azriel smirked as she rode his hand through her high, chest heaving. "On your knees. Take my pants off." He removed his fingers from her, pulling them to his mouth to suck them clean as he stepped back.

Lyria obeyed, getting on her knees in front of him and unlacing the tight material. She pulled them down his thighs and removed them, running her hands back up his thighs as she sat and waited. "Mouth open, hands behind your back. Tap my thigh twice if it's too much." He stroked his cock, watching as she got into position and parted her lips for him. "Gods, you are obedient, aren't you?"

"I just want to be your good girl," the soft confession almost made Azriel feel guilty as he pushed himself into her mouth, gripping the back of her head to hold her in place as the base of him.

"And you are." He began to fuck her throat slowly, watching her face as drool and tears began to form. His hands were laced tight into her hair for control as he growled above her. "Look so beautiful with my cock down your throat. Such a pretty little mess." She gagged softly around him. Play. He commanded his shadows, smirking as she moaned loudly at them beginning to trace over her clit, her nipples, dragging themselves between her folds. He picked up speed, watching as her mascara began to run, moaning as he destroyed her.

A familiar tight feeling started in his abs as his wings began to flare more. Azriel ripped her off of him and up before it could go further than he wanted and bent her over the table. "Are you on the tonic?" She nodded, unable to form words as his shadows continued their assault. "Good." Azriel lined himself up and pushed inside of her, head falling back into his shoulders as they both moaned. He grabbed both of her arms, pulling her slightly off the table and forcing her to use her abs to support herself.

He set a fast pace, filling her in a way no male ever had before. Stretching her more than any male had before. Lyria was quickly a mess, moaning his name and meeting his thrusts. "Is that the only word my beautiful little fox knows now? Have I fucked you so dumb already you can only say my name?" The drag of his cock as he teased her made her whimper and nod. "Fucking perfect. You are fucking perfect." Azriel grabbed both of her wrists in one hand. His other hand was squeezing her ass again as she laid back on the table.

"How far can I push you, Lyria? Where's the line?" Azriel began to tease her other hole. "Should we find out, princess?"

A scream of his name as he found that sensitive spot in her cunt was her only response. He could feel her wetness dripping, he could feel her tightening around his cock. He took the chance and pushed his thumb into her ass, chuckling as she moaned his name again. "Azriel, fuck! Please."

"Flithy fucking whore, aren't you?" Lyria nodded, smiling at the accusation. "Should I fuck your pretty ass next time? Gods, I'm going to fucking keep you. Can I keep you baby girl? Lock you up in my cabin in chains and just use this little body? Ill treat you like such a good little pet baby. You will be so spoiled."

Lyria was lost, pleasure building so tightly in her stomach she was going to explode soon. He felt so good inside of her and each groan and growl he released had her body fluttering in feminine pleasure. "Yes, master." Azriel groaned above her. "You can keep me."

He was smirking behind her again. He began thrusting even harder into the overly sensitive spot, growling as she got impossibly tighter around him. "Good little pet." His thumb was moving in time with his cock, he could feel it dragging, adding stimulation for both of them. Lyria was twitching around him, drooling and whispering in his name as over sensitivity set in. "Are you going to cum with my thumb in your ass, pet?"

A harsh thrust came after the question, making Lyria see stars as her toes began to curl again. "Yes, master. Can I cum? Please?"

Azriel growled again, his own orgasm right within reach. "Cum," he commanded. "Cum on my cock. I want to feel you fall apart on me."

She came with a scream of his name, Azriel roaring behind her as he also fell over the edge with that final stimulation of her walls fluttering around him. "That's it, pet. There you go." The hand holding her wrist dropped them, guiding her soft pushing against his hips to pull him further into her. "Good girl, Lyria." He pulled his other hand out of her, resting it by her waist as he ran the other up and down her back. "Took me so well, baby."

Lyria shuttered at the praise. Her eyes shut as she came down fully. "We should do this again." Azriel nodded in agreement, pulling out of her slowly and grabbing the towel on the table to clean both of them.

Lyria turned as he threw it into the hamper and froze. Azriel looked at her his brows knitted in confusion. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Then he felt it. Azriel froze as well as he stared at her. A snap happened between the both of them causing his breath to hitch and hers to still.

The string connecting them was golden and sparkling. He pulled her to him instantly, hand holding the back of her hair as he began to cry happily into her head. "You have no clue how long I've been looking for you." He kissed the top of her head, then her forehead, then each cheek and nose. He finally kissed her lips. Lyria kissed him back, just as eager and smiled as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "Maybe we can do this again in a couple days, but minus the sex? Just spend time together?"

She nodded at his offer, trying to ignore her growing glowing skin. "I'd like that a lot."

"Do you always glow after sex?"

He smiled as she blushed. "No. I glow when I'm happy."

[kradogsrats]

Aaravos, Leola, and the Entire History of Human Magic

ALL RIGHT, BUCKLE THE FUCK UP:

So after my "Leola and Laurelion might be the same person" crazy, I was looking shit up to write a post about alternately Laurelion possibly being Aaravos, as in Laurelion was the immortal Aaravos, and Aaravos is the fallen Laurelion, because of this:

White as the star's heart it pierced, as in "Novablade is white, and the star's heart was also white."

Who... had the white heart of a star...

... and now... doesn't?

hmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

However, the problem with this is that Aaravos at least appears to go from powered/heart-ed version:

To de-powered, heart...less? version:

...when he's imprisoned. At least, according to the way Zubeia tells it.

Meanwhile, in Ripples, we see what is presumably Aaravos's actual "fall," as the "Fallen Star"—a literal descent from the heavens. This occurs long, long before the events of Aaravos's imprisonment, before dark magic, before Elarion.

I'll note that part of what I'm taking into account here is a note from the artbook on Aaravos's designs:

As a "fallen" Startouch elf, Aaravos can only access a fraction of his former power.

So it seems like the assumption to make would be that Aaravos lost his powers and status when he was cast from the heavens, which is also where I would assume Laurelion dies and Aaravos is "born" if the Laurelion/Aaravos as the same being dichotomy was in play. Then why is his heart not blackened until he's imprisoned?

One possibility is that his empowered appearance is an illusion he's maintaining—another manipulation, that's dropped when he's imprisoned.

Another possibility is this is all bullshit, and everything is as generally assumed before: when Aaravos was imprisoned, the majority of his power was somehow stripped.

Leaving that aside for a moment, let's take a look at the order of operations here, historically.

Humanity looks to the stars to save them, but the stars do not respond:

— Patience

At some point, humanity is granted some kind of blessing from the heavens, long before humans built cities and became powerful:

— Patience

ALSO at some point, humanity is granted the power of primal magic. By tradition this was from the unicorns, in particular Leola:

— Tales of Xadia

However, this magic is forbidden them:

— Ripples

Aaravos is cast from the heavens in a calamity that creates the Sea of the Castout—again, long before dark magic:

— Ripples

Further, in the retelling of this story, Aaravos notes that the stars apparently were satisfied with the results of casting him out. It scarred the land, and frightened the humans—and their claim on primal magic—into submission:

— Ripples

I'll add another note from the artbook here on Aaravos's design:

Some designs had a strong, authoritative vibe that suited other Startouch elves, but not our "fallen star."

Finally, let's look at this again:

Aaravos, obviously, on his knees and in despair. A feminine-appearing elf who is almost certainly another Startouch elf, by the horn shape and the design of the crown on her brow.

I've seen at least one person cast this as a rendition of Aaravos's punishment, in that she represents the other stars and gestures as if to say "behold how far our brother has fallen."

But y'all. Y'ALL. Please.

We have seen this gesture FAR too many times for it to be something else, at this point. This is mercy, and love, and the passing of a torch.

So, let me clean this up into what I think happened:

The stars are largely absent gods, indifferent to the fate of humans and interested in only their design/prophecy of the world.

Leola, another Startouch elf (or else we're gonna stretch the definition of "unicorn" pretty far), takes pity on humanity and grants them the secret of primal magic.

Leola is somehow punished for this transgression. If Laurelion is Leola, she is killed. (The Celestial elves, in this case, are the guardians of the stars' order and power in Xadia. They are the last line of defense against this sort of thing.)

Aaravos, who loved Leola, either speaks on her behalf or otherwise rebels against the order of the stars. Aaravos is cast out. If Laurelion is Aaravos, he is robbed of his heart and his power.

"Leola's Last Wish" is to continue to be a guide to humanity, through the darkness.

Aaravos, meanwhile, fucking loses his mind and decides to burn down everything. He will destroy everything the stars put in place in all of Xadia, and he will leverage humans to do it.

Aaravos begins to spin up dark magic, and when the time is right, gifts it to humanity as the inciting action of his plan to tear all of Xadia apart. More on that here.

ADDENDUM: Chatting with @raayllum immediately after writing this and they raised the possibility of Leola being Aaravos’s mother, given the parallel to Sarai in the statue, and YES that makes so much sense. Particularly regarding the star-child constellation, him adopting her crown, and why he might be punished along with her. I like this explanation better than them being lovers, even if it means TDP gains yet another goddamn martyr mother.

Anyway, that's it! Mystery of Aaravos solved.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

SORRY - Chapter 5

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

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All OC Characters belong to me

“Here are your winners and the new WWE undisputed tag team champions! Jimmy and Jey, THE USOS!” Dominique spoke into the mic, with a smile on her face. The smile quickly dropped from her face as Jon stormed over to her and pulled her with him, out of the time keeper's area and into the crowd towards the backstage area.

“Jon.. What are you doing?” She asked as she stumbled after him, trying to keep up with his long strides. She was confused, because he was definitely going off script. He was supposed to be out there attacking Randy and Riddle with his brother and cousin.

Jon didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he continued to pull her along. “Hey, what the fuck!” She yelled at him when he pushed her into The Bloodline’s empty locker room, causing her to stumble in her heels. “What is your problem!?"

“You fucking Randy?! Huh! Is that why you won’t forgive me!” Dominique snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“And what if I am? You were definitely gonna fuck that girl last night , oh and don’t get me started on the fact that you spent the night with Trinity.” 

“Don’t fuckin’ play with me Dominque.” He gruffed out as he stalked towards her, backing her into the wall. 

“Ain't nobody playin’ with you. If you can do it, so can I.” She shrugged, not backing down as she stared into his eyes. Jon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew she was testing his patience and it was working. Jon opened his eyes, his jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Imma ask you one last time.” He muttered as he opened his eyes to look at her. “Are you fuckin’ Orton?"

Dominique rolled her eyes. “No, I'm not like you Jon, I would never cheat on the person I love.” Jon's expression darkened at Dominique's response. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

Jon sucked his teeth just as Joe and Josh walked through the doors. Jon ignored them though, keeping his glare on Dominique. “Stop with that bullshit Dominique. I aint cheat on you and I never will.” 

“What bullshit Jonathan?!” She yelled.  “I have caught you up in TWO bitches faces and you got the nerve to be acting like this because what? Randy was comforting me!” 

“He don’t need to comfort you Dom! Thats my fuckin’ job!” Josh decided to step in between them. 

“Aye, y’all chill out.” He said placing his hand on Jon’s chest, pushing him back from Dominique. 

“I’m chill.” Dominique said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s him, he needs to chill.”  Joe snorted, then held his hands up defensively as she turned her glare to him. 

“Y’all are perfect for eachother,” He muttered as he walked into the bathroom to take a shower. 

“We been together for four fucking years and I’ve never even thought about another woman. I fuck up one time and you won’t let it go. I’m sorry Dominique” He stressed, trying to grab her hands but she swatted him away. Josh shook his head at them and walked out the room to call his wife, he was happy as hell he wasn’t Jon right now. 

“Jonathan, it’s not just one tiny little fuck up. You let that woman into your  space. You let her think that she actually had a chance with you.”  Dominique tried to stop her tears from falling, but she was hurt and angry and looking at his face wasn’t making her feel any better. “And then, you spent the night with your ex? You didn’t come to me, you didn’t try to talk to me, you went to her and I'm supposed to just forgive you?” 

Jon stood there frozen as he watched the tears fall down her face, his heart heavy with the weight of Dominique’s pain that he caused. This was the second time in the four years they had been together that he had made her cry; the first being when he proposed in Paris. 

“If I can take it all back I would Dominique.” Dominique sniffled and wiped her tears away. 

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” She muttered as Joe walked out the bathroom. “We have a flight to catch, are y’all ready?” Without waiting for a response she walked out of the locker room and towards the writers room to grab her bags. 

Jon watched her walk away as a feeling of hopelessness washed over him. Their relationship was hanging on by a thread and he feared that with every passing moment, that thread was growing thinner and thinner. But he also knew that he couldn't force Dominique to forgive him, couldn't demand her love in return for his apologies.

“Sis, you okay?” Josh asked her as she walked past him. 

“No,” She shrugged, sending him a soft smile. “But I will be.” 

“I know Jon’s my twin, but I'm here for you, aight?” She nodded. 

“Thank you Josh.” 

Back in the locker room Jon groaned and plopped down on the steel chair. “You know I don’t like to get in y’all relationship business.” Joe started, walking closer to his cousin. “But Dominique is the one for you. I mean after you broke up with Trinity and brought Dom around, everyone and I mean everyone was skeptical about y’all relationship. But shit the whole family loves her now. Y’all gotta fix this,” 

"I know, Joe," Jonathan admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "I messed up, big time. I don't know how to fix things with her."

Joe placed a reassuring hand on Jonathan's shoulder, offering him a sympathetic smile. "You just gotta show her, man.”

“Hey” Ishana said as Dom walked in. “You look rough.” Dominique rolled her eyes. 

“I feel rough.” She muttered, walking over and grabbing her luggage. 

“Jon again huh?” Dom nodded and let out a sigh. “So y’all still beefing?” 

“Yes, he seems to think that he can just say sorry and everything will go back to normal.”

“Have you expressed how you feel though? About the whole situation, why you don’t wanna get married?” Dominique sighed and rolled her eyes. 

“Ishana, I don't wanna talk about my problems with Jon right now.” 

Ishana ignored her, “Communication is key, Dom. he’s taking accountability and you need to too.” Dom scoffed but Ishana held her hand up to silence her. “Okay I get it the girl kissed him and yes, he went to Trinity this morning  but to be honest you were looking for a way out of the engagement anyway.”  Dominique's eyes widened. Ishana's words hung in the air, heavy with truth and accusation. Dominique felt a mix of shock and anger rising within her, her mind racing to process what she had just heard. 

“You’re joking right? Now is not the time to be funny.” Dominique said glaring at Ishana. “No, I wasn’t tryna find a way out of my engagement. I wanted to get married to Jon, just not right away.”

Ishana rolled her eyes. 

“Bullshit. Ever since yall got engaged you’ve been picking fights with him and as your best friend it’s time I spoke up and told you about yourself. Yes he fucked up by letting that girl into his personal space but he’s been trying to talk to you, trying to apologize to you but you blocked him, how can he make things right if you’re closing off all communication with him?"

“You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Ishana shook her head, not believing how stubborn her best friend was being. “There is no sides, Dom. I want you and Jon to be happy. And in order for that to happen, you need to grow up. Not all marriages end in divorce.” Ishana said, grabbing her pocket book and walking out the room. Dominique stared at the closed door in shock. What the fuck was that?!

Heyyyy... long time no see 😭🫣

I was having second thoughts about this story but talking to @paigereeder i got a second wind and was able to finish this chapter!

Hopefully you guys won't have to wait as long for the next chapter.

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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[sourwolf-sterek32]

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

Or

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Trigger Warning- Suicidal thoughts, self-harm, child abuse, heavy mentions of cancer (you all know what's coming)

Previous Chapter

Chapter 18- A is for Angst

"Y/N..." Vince began to say but seemed to be in too much shock to finish the sentence.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fuck.

Vince was never meant to see the cuts. Not again. Not while his daughter was dying in hospital.

"I-I gotta go. Sorry."

You were on your feet and out the room before Vince could say or do anything.

It was late at night, the only people walking around the floor were a few nurses with clipboards who didn't look twice in your direction. The hospital was quiet which you were grateful of because it didn't take long for the elevator door to open. However, just as you stepped inside and pressed the button for the ground floor, Vince slipped in between the closing doors.

Damnit.

"Show me." He ordered, his voice forcefully stern as he slammed the 'stop' button on the control panel forcing the lift to come to a stop between floors.

There was no getting out of this. It was too late to lie, and it was too late to escape the elevator. And Vince knew it too.

"No." You simply responded folding your arms across your chest defensively. "There's nothing to show."

Vince's expression hardened, his jaw clenched and unclenched as he stared at you with an unreadable look in his eye. For a few tense seconds, neither of you moved or said anything. The silence in the enclosed elevator was deafening. You could practically hear your heart thumping in your chest while your hands trembled a little by your sides in anticipation for what was to come.

Your brother never yelled or got angry when you were kids, but right now, he looked on the verge of snapping.

He didn't need to worry about this. His daughter was in hospital with cancer. He shouldn't have to worry about his little sister too. You didn't want him to worry or know about this in the first place, but now he did.

Suddenly, Vince stepped forward and grabbed your hand before forcefully yanking your sleeve up exposing the cuts on your inner arm. He stared down at your skin taking in the fresh angry red cuts mixed between the still healing scars. Tears were beginning to rise in your eyes, but you forced them back.

Vince let out a frustrated sigh dropping your hand and rubbed his face before his brown eyes met yours. And he did not look happy.

"Why?" He questioned.

You shook your head, "it doesn't matter."

"You're cutting yourself and you don't think it matters?!" Vince shouted, his voice raising an octave as he stared at you in utter disbelief. "At least tell me why?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit!"

"I don't know!" You shouted back.

"Do you want to fucking die? Is that it?" Vince questioned bluntly, his voice rising along with his anger. "Is your life really that bad? My daughter has fucking cancer! And you're slitting your wrists, for what? Attention? Or are you trying to kill yourself?"

You averted your eyes and stared down at the ground. Vince could always read you like a book, and you did not want him to know how close to the mark those last few words actually were.

"Answer me!" Vince screamed taking a step closer causing you to flinch back on instinct.

Memories of your father's anger and wrath washed over you. Vince wasn't anything like your father. Sure, he had a bit of his bad temper, but Vince would never hurt you, not like your father used to.

"I- shit." Vince swore softly under his breath realising that he had scared you. "I'm not him, Y/N."

You took in a deep breath and met his gaze, "I know."

Vince remained silent for a moment his eyes filled with guilt and worry before he spoke, his tone now calm and levelled. "Please tell me why you're doing this to yourself."

"It helps." You admitted, your voice coming out a mere whisper.

"What?"

"It helps. I-I don't know, it just helps."

"Helps with what?" Vince asked, but he didn't sound angry anymore, he just sounded confused.

How were you meant to explain it to him though? Vince wouldn't understand, and you didn't want him to.

"You swore you'd never do this again." He whispered shaking his head. "You fucking promised!"

"Yeah? Well, you promised that it was me and you against the world, but then you fucking left! You abandoned me just like my mother did!"

Vince's body physically recoiled, his eyes widening, "is that why you did this? Did you cut yourself because I left?"

There was so much guilt and pain in his voice it broke your heart.

"No." You answered quickly but then paused because you couldn't tell him why. You couldn't tell him that the car accident and Razzle's death still haunted you. You couldn't tell him that seeing his daughter dying in hospital was bringing up old feelings about your miscarriage. You couldn't tell him that him leaving Mötley Crüe affected you on the scale that it did. You had no right to complain about those things and feelings especially not to Vince.

"I don't want to wake up one morning to find that you've killed yourself, Y/N." Vince suddenly said, snapping you out of your thoughts like a punch to the face.

"You won't." You insisted, shocked at his words.

It wasn't like you hadn't thought about it. Most days you thought about it, but you were too weak to pull the trigger. You'd never be able to go through with it which was why you silenced those suicidal thoughts with a blade to numb the pain.

"You don't need to worry about that." You answered, pulling the sleeve of your shirt down before meeting your brothers' sad eyes. "It's not about wanting to die. It's more about being able to live."

"I don't understand."

You smiled sadly, "I know. But you don't need to worry about me, okay? I'm fine. You have enough on your plate anyway. Just focus on Skylar, Vin."

You leant over and pressed the button on the control panel causing the elevator to shift before it began to descend back down to the ground floor once again.

Vince didn't say anything after that, but you could feel his eyes watching you like he wanted to say more but seemed unable to.

After a few seconds the elevator came to a stop and dinged before the doors slid open exposing the empty lobby of the waiting room. You hesitated before taking a step towards the door but then a hand grabbed your shoulder.

"I can't lose you too." Vince said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him. His brown eyes were laced with tears which only made the tears you had been fighting back earlier resurface as you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying. You wanted to tell him that Skylar wasn't going to die. That she would get better and be out of the hospital soon. But you both knew the chances of her surviving weren't good. Skylar was dying and the doctors might not be able to help her.

Instead of saying anything, you stepped forward and pulled your brother into a hug. Vince's body was stiff in your arms for a moment, but he was soon wrapping his arms around your back and hugging you tightly.

-

After Vince finding out, you didn't dare add to the cuts on your skin in fear of him checking and seeing anything fresh. But you picked at the scabs of the older ones making them bleed and start the healing process again. It defeated the purpose but made it a little easier to breathe.

A week later, you were sitting beside your niece's bed reading one of her favourite princess books trying to distract her from everything that was happening.

"Can you read it again?" Skylar asked once you closed the book.

Her little voice sounded so weak, and you were instantly opening the book back up again, holding it out for her to see the bright colourful pictures.

"Absolutely." You smiled softly at her, hating how pale and frail she looked before you began to read the book from the start once again.

A few minutes later, Sharise walked back into the room after speaking to a doctor and by the look on her face, you knew whatever the doctor had said wasn't good. It never was.

"Skylar, sweetie." Sharise began to say sitting down on the edge of her bed and grabbing her daughter's small hand. "The doctors need to do another operation. It's only going to be small and after that, we can go home. Does that sound good?"

Another operation?

How many more times were they going to cut this little girl open? How much more could a four-year-old endure?

Skylar looked up at her mother and said in the weakest, saddest, most innocent voice you've ever heard; "mummy, I don't want to die."

You had to get up and leave the room right there and then. And once you were out in the corridor, you burst into tears.

Memories of that day in hospital with Nikki and Tommy after your miscarriage flooded over you. The pain and sadness of losing a baby hitting hard and now again at the possibility of losing your niece was killing you.

Skylar knew that what was happening to her wasn't normal. She knew that all the smiles and jokes coming from you adults were forced, that the relatives and friends who visited never used to cry when they saw her.

In four months, she had gone from a happy four-year-old to a sad wired-up dying child.

Then, one day, you were walking into the hospital with a new stuffed animal for Skylar when you were greeted by the doctors. They had that look, the look that said everything and nothing at all. You braced yourself and knew before a word was spoken that this was it.

Before the doctors could confirm your fears, Vince came running into the hospital shouting something about receiving a call from Sharise, but he came to a halt in the waiting room when he saw you standing by the doctors.

Vince was by your side instantly, frantically asking the doctors what was going on and if his daughter was okay. But then the doctors lowered their heads and looked between the two of you sadly.

Vince's eyes filled with water before they even spoke. The tears hung there suspended, covering his eyes like contact lenses, until the doctor said the dreaded words, "she's gone." And then the dam burst, and tears drenched your brothers face.

-

Skylar had passed away in her sleep. The doctors reassured you all that it was painless, but that was a lie. Skylar had been suffering and in pain for months. It was anything but painless.

Vince was a total mess. And after leaving the hospital that day, you stayed with him at his mansion. He was incapable of showering, changing his clothes or doing anything for himself. So, you stepped up.

He slept with the blanket Skylar had died in from the hospital. It was dirty and needed to be washed, but there was no way you would ever wash it. The blanket, although smelt like a hospital, also smelt like his daughter and it was the only thing he had left.

You had no idea how to help Vince. You couldn't even help yourself.

The cuts on your wrists that had finally healed were now fresh and bloodied under the bandage secured over them. Skylar's death hurt more than anything, but you hid your own feelings to be there for your brother.

Sharise's parents organised the funeral and you feared your brother wouldn't be able to get himself cleaned up and sober enough for his daughter's own funeral, but with your help, he did.

The funeral was held at the cemetery and was kept small and lowkey. It wasn't advertised, not wanting to risk paparazzi showing up and snapping photos. So, you had no idea how your father and stepmother found out about the funeral.

The last time you saw them was the day you and Vince had run away from home. You hadn't seen or heard from them since, until now.

Your stepmother looked the same as the day you had left. But your father had aged dramatically since that horrible day. The drugs and alcohol having finally caught up to him.

Vince didn't notice their appearance from where the two of you sat in the front row and to your relief, your parents didn't come over. They shifted to the back of the crowd and took their seats silently while the rest of the family and friends slowly wandered in and filled up the rows of chairs. You didn't tell Vince that they were there. He had enough to deal with.

You sat silently holding your brother's hand while staring at the pink casket. It was so little. She was so little.

By the end of the service, Vince had gone through all the tissues you had stashed in your pocket. He was a blubbering mess and through your own tears, you tried to be strong for him.

Eventually, everyone began to filter out the cemetery after giving their condolences to Vince and Sharise on their way out.

After seeing your nieces pink casket get lowered six feet down, you had completely forgotten that your father and stepmother were even here. And it wasn't until you thought everyone had left and you stood up about to lead your brother to the car when they approached you.

"Your mother and I are so sorry for your loss, son."

Your entire body became impossibly still hearing your fathers voice for the first time after all these years. Vince's own body had turned tense as he lifted his head and looked passed you to where your parents were standing.

Slowly, you turned around and came face to face with your father while your stepmother hovered in the background silently.

"What are you doing here?" You questioned, glaring at your father through your sunglasses.

"We don't want any trouble. We heard the news and wish we could have met Skylar before she passed." Your stepmother spoke up softly.

Vince was on his feet beside you in an instant. He hadn't moved an inch since the funeral started, but his body was now practically vibrating with sudden rage.

"I was never going to let you meet her!" Your brother sneered, pointing at your father and ignoring his mother. "I was never going to let you fuck up her life like you tried to do to ours!"

Your fathers' nostrils flared, a predatory expression shifting over his face and even though you weren't a weak child anymore, that look still had you flinching back a step, your heart hammering in your chest. But Vince didn't back away, instead he stood up straighter ready for a fight.

"I didn't fuck up your life. Look at you now. You're famous, son. You're welcome."

"I did this!" Vince growled. "Y/N and I did this ourselves with no help from you!"

Your father shook his head, "I made you who you are. You owe me."

Oh, hell no.

"Get the fuck out of here!" You ordered, marching forward and planting yourself between him and Vince. "You're nothing but a poor, fat, old man trying to use his sons grieving state to his own advantage. So, get the hell out of here!"

Your father stared down at you, a mixture of surprise and anger washing over him at your words and courage. 10-year-old you would have been terrified right now, but you were done dealing with your father's abuse. You were done with everything.

"I wish your mother never dumped you on our doorstep." He snarled.

"I wish you weren't my fucking father!" You snapped back, but that only made your fathers face break out into a sickening grin and your blood turned to ice.

What were you missing? Why the fuck was he smiling?

"I'm not your father, Y/N."

You blinked, thinking you had heard him wrong, "what?"

"Your mother was a whore. I knew her well, but I never had sex with her. You're not mine, but she dumped you on our doorstep and then blew her brains out the next day."

Your mouth opened but no words came out. Your brain seemed to be short circuiting, unable to process the bombshell your father had just dropped.

He wasn't your real father? All this time... all these years, you thought your mother might've been out there somewhere, but she was dead. She killed herself after giving birth to you.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Vince questioned from behind you.

"She's not your sister, Vincent. You two aren't even related."

No.

That wasn't possible.

Vince was your brother. You were siblings. You were related. You had to be related.

"Get out." You whispered, shaking your head at him as hot tears filled your eyes. "Get out of here! Get the fuck out!"

You stepped forward and shoved your father's chest roughly causing him to stumble back a step.

"Get the fuck out of here!" You screamed at him, the tears in your eyes falling down your cheeks.

Although your father was older now, he was still fast.

His hand was suddenly around your neck. Not hard enough to be strangling, but not not hard enough to be painful. Your father was yelling, if his red angry eyes and moving lips were anything to go by. But you couldn't make out his words, it was like you were underwater, everything muffled and just white noise.

The fingers tightened around your neck like a vice.

You choked, gasping for breath as you tried to pry away his fingers, but he only squeezed harder blocking the air from getting to your lungs.

The pain pulled you out from under the make-believe water, and the first words you heard were-

"I kept a roof over your head and food on the table! You're not even my fucking child but I took you in and gave you everything! I kept you alive! I kept you both alive! You little shits owe me!"

"Honey, stop!" Your stepmother shouted in the background somewhere.

If you weren't being strangled to death, you would have commented on how it only took her 20 something years to speak up against your father. Usually, she'd just turn her head away and pretend the abuse never happened. Guess she finally grew a backbone after all this time.

Your father ignored her but didn't get a chance to say anything else before Vince suddenly yanked him off you and threw him backwards. Your father stumbled back a few steps, unable to keep his footing before falling on his ass in the dirt.

You doubled over grabbing your neck, coughing and struggling to breathe. You sucked in shallow shaky breaths trying to get air back into your lungs.

Vince now had your father pinned on his back throwing punch after punch and there was nothing the old man could do to stop it. His mother was crying for him to stop, but all Vince could see was red. All the rage and anger that had been simmering inside of your brother after losing his daughter had erupted out of him. He needed to let out his emotions, so you didn't try and stop him straight away.

"Don't you ever touch her again! Don't you ever show your fucking face here again! Do I make myself clear?!" Vince screamed slamming his fist down against your fathers bloodied face and showed no signs of stopping.

"Vince. Come on." You said, your voice sounding weaker than expected as you reached over and grabbed his elbow stopping him from laying out another punch. "He's not worth it. Let's go."

To your relief, Vince simply nodded breathing heavily through his nose as he staggered up to his feet allowing you to guide him away. His mother rushed over and dropped to her knees beside your father not saying anything to either of you as you walked away.

Once you returned home, Vince's anger had subsided, and he switched back into a protective big brother while he inspected the damage your father had caused. He hadn't mentioned Skylar since the funeral. He was trying to distract himself from thinking about his daughter, so he focused on you instead. Vince had fractured his hand from the punching, but all he cared about was the darkening finger shaped bruises around your neck.

"We're not even related." You whispered, using all your strength to keep yourself from crying.

Vince's eyes shifted away from the bruises on your neck before meeting your gaze, "I don't care what that asshole said. We were raised together. We did everything together. Playing, fighting, surfing, singing, everything. You're my sister."

"Am I?" You asked, your voice a mere whisper as you thought back to what your brother had said in the studio.

'Vince, come on, I'm your sister.' 'Not anymore.'

Your brother's expression dropped, and he lowered his head with a heavy sigh remembering his own words all too well.

With everything that had happened in the last few months, neither of you have had a chance to really talk about that day in the studio. You never bought it up because there were bigger things to worry about and neither did Vince... until now.

"I didn't mean what I said that day." Vince admitted, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "I was angry. I was lashing out and I shouldn't have said what I did. But you and me? We're siblings. You're my little sister, don't you ever forget that."

-

Over the following week, you slept in Vince's spare bedroom upstairs. You didn't want to go back to your house alone and Vince didn't want you to leave because he didn't want to be alone either.

Neither of you knew what to do. You were both messes, but you tried to be strong for him.

Vince had gone back to drinking heavily and it broke your heart seeing him like that. If he kept going down that path, he was going to drink himself to death and that possibility scared you more than anything. A small part of you wondered if that was what Vince wanted.

Did he want to drink himself into an early grave? Could he not bare being on Earth without Skylar?

You were so scared of the answer that you didn't dare ask. It wasn't like you hadn't thought about it either. Just one deep slice of the knife and it would all be over. The pain, the grief, the sadness, everything. It would be so easy to just end it all, but you feared that if you did then Vince would do it too and that horrifying thought was enough to stop you.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Vin." You whispered, leaning against the doorframe watching Vince sitting on the porch steps already halfway through a bottle of vodka trying to drown his sorrows.

"Is that right?" He said, glancing over his shoulder. "Roll up your sleeves then."

Vince raised his eyebrows, challenging you to do it because he knew for a fact that you had been cutting again. He never saw you do it though. You always hid it from him, but he knew.

"That's what I thought." Vince turned away taking a sip from the bottle. "You don't understand how this feels... the pain of losing a child."

"I... I kind of do."

Vince lowered the bottle from his lips, "what?"

Ah, shit.

Were you really about to tell him?

You, Tommy and Nikki had agreed not to tell Vince. But that was back when you thought your brother didn't know about the three of you being together. Things had changed.

"I know how you feel because I felt it. And I feel it every day. So, when I say that I am sorry Vince. I really mean it."

His brows furrowed in confusion as he slowly turned to face you properly.

You smiled sadly at him through the tears now threatening to spill from your eyes. A dread of realisation washed over your brother, his face turning pale.

He figured it out.

"Were you..." He seemed unable to finish the sentence, so you simply nodded.

"I was pregnant. I had a miscarriage."

His eyes widened into saucers, jaw practically hitting the floor.

"What?!"

You slowly walked over and sat down on the porch step beside him taking the bottle of vodka and swallowing a few mouthfuls because if you were going to talk about this, you were not doing it sober.

"Why-why didn't you tell me?" Vince asked and his voice sounded so sad, so hurt that you had kept this to yourself, and it broke your heart.

"I couldn't." You whispered, blinking back tears.

"Was it after I left?" He asked, guilt heavy in his voice.

"No. It was before that."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"You would've killed the father."

A beat of silence passed between the two of you before horrible realisation hit him like a slap to the face.

"Nikki or Tommy?"

He didn't sound angry though. He just sounded sad.

"Honestly? I don't know." You admitted, staring out at the dark ocean in the distance.

"Jesus Christ." Vince swore softly under his breath before reaching up and wiping away the tears you hadn't realised were in his eyes too.

"I know it's not the same but... but I'm here for you, Vince. Let me help you."

"Fuck… I’m sorry." He whispered, glancing over at you sadly before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side while he cried silently. "I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure if he was apologising to you or to Skylar or both. It didn't matter though. You rested your head against your brother's shoulder and let him cry while overlooking the beach that had once been your safe haven as children.

-

The next day, Vince checked himself into rehab and committed to it.

With Vince gone, you didn't know what to do.

You couldn't stay at his house and the thought of going back home to your own empty cottage made you want to cry. You were happy Vince was getting help, but now you were left alone. No brother, no niece, no baby, nobody. You were alone... again.

If you went back to your house alone, you knew it would end badly. So, that afternoon you found yourself standing in front of a familiar wooden door knocking hesitantly. There was no answer for a couple of minutes, and just when you began to talk yourself out of it and turned to leave, the door suddenly opened.

Nikki Sixx stood in the doorway visibly shocked by your presence, but when he saw the bruise around your neck and tears in your eyes, he stepped forward and pulled you into his chest without a word.

Then, in the safety of his arms, you let your guard down and cried properly for the first time in a long time.

-

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night Mor was Hurt

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst, mentions of blood/injuries/assault.

summary: Azriel finds an injured Mor that brings forth many realizations. Realizations that he has been avoiding for a time now.

A/N: We are two more imagines away from the end! I'm so excited to get started on Azriel & Valeria's love story! <3 for those that may be new here, this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here.

**

The training grounds echoed with the sound of grunts and the shuffling feet as Cassian and Azriel circled each other. Their movements were not as precise or graceful as usual, marred by their roaring hangover. Yet Cassian had insisted they still train.

“You’re getting sloppy, Az.” Cassian said, easily dodging Azriel’s punch. He had left little opportunity or time to protest on training when he forced Azriel awake. The image of Azriel holding Valeria, someone he saw as his own little sister, in such an intimate way brought a sense of unease. It was a feeling fueled by the protectiveness he harbored for her.  “Anything on your mind recently?”

“You mean besides this raging hangover?” Azriel spat back, squinting as the sun’s rays blazed over them.

“Perhaps, I should specify. Anyone on your mind recently?”

Their hands moved, parrying and throwing punches. The hits were calculated, the strength held back. Cassian chose to cut to the chase, finally voicing his suspicions and concerns over something that had been gnawing at him for a while now.

“What’s going on with you and Valeria?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Cassian snapped. He found an opening and landed a punch to Azriel’s shoulders, no longer holding his strength back and sending Azriel faltering backwards. “You two were cuddling.”

“You were cuddling me.”

“Oh and I’m sure it was me spooning you that gave you a raging hard on.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Azriel finally said with a defensive glare.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t understand because Rhysand is like a brother to us and she is his little sister. Our little s–”

“She may be like a sister to you.” Azriel cut in sharply. The icy rage he carried with him, one only Rhysand had witnessed before, dared to surface. “But not to me.”

Cassian glared right back at him. “She’s off limits.”

“Why? Is it because I’m a bastard?”

Cassian flinched. The weight of the word was heavy, one that burdened his own shoulders too often. It hurt him to think that Azriel would think so lowly of him, to call him out cruelly over something he had no control over, especially when Cassian was in the same position.

Azriel’s gaze hardened at the silence that fell, daring him to say what lingered unspoken in the air. He needed to hear it, to shatter the illusion he had desperately and delicately crafted for himself.

“You know I would never use that word against you like that but it’s an unfortunate title we must carry.” Cassian’s gaze had softened. “She is not only Rhysand’s sister but the daughter of a High Lord. She’s already suffered through so much and I don’t see this ending well for you, for her. So whatever it is that you two have, it needs to stop. Now.”

“I don’t think I can.” Azriel’s voice was pained, his face held an expression Cassian could not read.

“Don’t tell me you two have already…”

Azriel’s silence was an answer. 

Cassian dropped his fists, using one of his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose instead as he felt bile rise in his throat. He had been angry at first. Despite not sharing the same blood, he loved Valeria like his own sister. And Azriel, he was his best friend, the closest thing to a brother he could ever have. He was torn. He wanted to be happy for Azriel. If it were anyone else, Cassian would’ve cheered him, would’ve annoyed him for more details.

Azriel could have anyone–anyone but her.

 “This is more than physical attraction,” Azriel was desperately protesting because if anyone would listen and be willing to understand, it was Cassian.  “When she hurts, I hurt. When she’s happy, I’m happy. I need to be with her all the time. I-I can’t control it.”

Cassian would never say it outloud but he hated the thought that surfaced onto his mind. His mother, born of low status, faced rejection after she became pregnant while his father had received no backlash. The same cruel fate had befallen upon Azriel’s mother. Why would Azriel and Valeria be any different? If anything, since their roles were reversed, it’d be worse and he could not let any harm come to Valeria or Azriel.

 If the High Lord found out that his one and only daughter was no longer a virgin, no longer a pure bride…Cassian shuddered at the thought.

“Learn to control it.” Cassian’s cut through the air, his cold voice returning. “Before things get worse, before you fall in love.”

Azriel found himself stumbling back until the back of his knees hit the bench. He sank onto it as Cassian walked away. It’s already too late, he wanted to say. Everything he felt for Valeria had already turned into love. But he could not find his voice.

Cassian turned to leave, but before he moved on, he paused. “Count your stars lucky that it is me who caught you this morning and not Rhysand.”

**

Weeks later…

Valeria sighed deeply.

“Stop moving.” Her mother chided with a tsk.

“Is this really necessary, mother?” Valeria asked, her voice almost a whine as her mother continued to fuss with the fabric.

“Absolutely, my little star.” Lady Yvaine replied, eyes twinkling with excitement and admiration over her work. “Every stitch is a wish, every fold a dream. This dress has to be perfect.”

Valeria turned her head over her shoulder to glance at her reflection in the mirror. She was draped in a smooth white satin, a rough silhouette of a wedding dress. Her mother’s keen eyes were delicately placing a layer of glittery tulle, a celestial veil to adorn the gown with a twinkling brilliance, much like starlight on a clear night sky, over the satin fabric.

“I’m not even getting married,” Valeria grumbled as she turned back around.

Her mother, who was knelt before her, pinning the tulle fabric down looked up at her. “You never know when a charming suitor may come by. I want my daughter to be ready.”

Valeria knew there was no winning with her mother so she bit her lip to keep herself from retorting. She couldn’t ignore the nervous fluttering in her stomach at the mere thought of marriage. In a world where females rarely had a say in their unions, the looming specter of her father’s choice stirred unease within her. A selfish and innocent desire whispered in her heart, wanting to marry for love, a prospect already coming into mind…

The intricate ink wrapped around her ring finger pricked her skin, reminding her of Rhysand’s promise to her. That she would marry someone who could make her happy, make her laugh. Someone who loved her as much as she loved them. Someone who smelled good. It was a foolish promise for him to make but they were kids when the bargain had been struck. She wondered if it was a promise he would be able to keep or if they would discover the consequences of when a Night Court bargain is broken. 

“I already made your husband’s suit so that it may match perfectly with your dress.”

Lady Yvaine’s voice pulled Valeria out of her thoughts. Valeria’s eyebrows knitted together, a ghost of a smile on her face at her mother’s enthusiasm. “How is that even possible? We don’t even know who it will be, their measurements, if they’ll even want to wear it.”

Her mother placed her hands on Valeria’s hips, using her body to help her rise. She smiled lovingly at her daughter, caressing her cheek. “I just know,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

The blood drained from Valeria’s face. “Is there something I should know? Has father–”

Lady Yvaine’s laughter interrupted Valeria. “Don’t fret, my dear. Nothing has been said so far.”

Valeria shifted as she fell deep into thought. Memories of the fear and worry she had felt when she learned of Mor’s arranged marriage flooded back and then her mind drifted to a conversation she had with her mother years ago. She knew her mother’s marriage to her father was not based on love. It was based on their mating bond, their fates intertwined and destined together by the Mother. And there was one question she hadn’t dared to ask back then…

Lady Yvaine frowned, mirroring Valeria’s expression. She could sense her daughter’s unease. “What troubles you, my dear?”

“How did you know he was your mate?” Her voice was merely a whisper.

“The bond snapped for us at the same time. It’s an indescribable feeling but when our eyes found each other, I felt like the world stood still. I couldn’t look away and in that moment, all I knew was that I needed him. I knew he felt it too when he killed my uncle, who had been seconds away from clipping my wings.”

“But you don’t love him.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Lady Yvaine gently cradled Valeria’s cheeks in her hands, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. “But I love what he gave me.”

“A mating bond is rare in itself, even more so for love to be involved as well.”

Valeria wanted to ask more but a knock on her mother’s door had them both turning their heads. “Come in,” her mother’s voice beckoned and the door opened, revealing Rhysand.

He smiled as he entered, his eyes widening when he took in the sight of Valeria. The ink entangled around his left wrist pricked at his skin. “Is there something I should know?”

“Just mother being eager to send me off in her finest.” Valeria replied, turning to her mother with a pleading look in her eyes. Her mother rolled her eyes but gave her a light tap on her shoulder. “She already made your future wife's wedding dress. A whole wardrobe, in fact.”

Valeria made her way to the privacy screen in her mother’s room, keen to take off her future wedding dress.

“That’s insane.” She heard Rhysand chuckle as she changed back into her usual attire, a soft linen blouse and trousers to allow her to move freely, something that would be very much needed when she snuck off for her Valkyrie training later. “How do you even know if it’ll fit them?”

“She just knows.”

“I just know.”

Valeria and her mother said in unison as Valeria stepped out from the privacy screen. Her fingers worked her hair into a fishtail braid. 

Lady Yvaine grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “Mother always knows best.”

“What are you doing here? Weren’t you visiting Mor?”

“I was but I couldn’t find her.” Rhysand replied as he helped their mother put away her needle and threads. “So then I thought why not go enjoy a nice lunch in Velaris with my beautiful mother and annoying little sister?”

Valeria gave him a vulgar gesture when their mother wasn’t looking. He stuck his tongue out at her in response. Their faces were stoic when their mother’s gaze flickered between the two.

But then Rhysand’s expression changed, contorting into one of pure bewilderment. His nostrils flared and body tensed. His mouth set into a hard line and then he was scowling. His eyes were distant but burning with rage.

“What is it?”

And when she heard it, she immediately recognized the voice that was frantically calling out her name, calling out her brother’s name. It was Azriel’s. Her eyes widened and then the three of them were running.

They found Azriel in the foyer of the Moonstone palace and Valeria felt her heart drop at the sight of the injured female in his arms. It was Mor.

 Her blonde hair was disheveled and tangled with autumn leaves and branches. Her face was marred with dirt and scratches. Her skin was bare and exposed, revealing bruises and gashes but her stomach was the most terrifying sight. There were nails embedded to her skin, blood trickling down, as they held up a note.

Valeria didn’t bother to read the note as she rushed up to Azriel. Tears stung her eyes as she reached out toward Mor’s neck, a sliver of relief flooding through her at the pulse. She was alive.

“We need to get her to the infirmary.” Lady Yvaine stated. “I’ll call for Madja.”

Valeria’s touch lingered on Mor, her other hand reaching out for Azriel. She winnowed them into the palace’s infirmary, knowing Rhysand would follow. Azriel placed her gently on a bed and Valeria was quick to cover her with a sheet. She wanted to take the note nailed onto her stomach off but she could smell the faebane and she feared making the injury worse if she did so.

She glanced between Azriel and Rhysand, sensing that they were still communicating in their minds. “What happened?”

“Get Cassian.” Rhysand was ordering Azriel.

“Are you sure–”

“Get. Cassian.” Rhysand seethed, his fists clenching at his sides until his knuckles turned white. “I want him to see.”

Azriel turned to Mor, not wanting to leave his friend’s side while injured. She had been unconscious when he found her. He had been patrolling around Autumn Court’s borders per his High Lord’s request when his shadows alerted him of an injured female in the forest. He then shifted his gaze to Valeria and she gave him a reassuring nod, an unspoken promise that she would take care of Mor.

Azriel disappeared into his shadows and Valeria looked at her hurt friend, her own heart aching. “Mor,” she called out softly, her fingers gently wiping at the caked tears on her friend’s face, but the blonde did not stir, not even when Valeria’s own tears accidentally fell onto her face.

“Rhys, you have to tell me what happened, who did this.”

 “Eris broke off the engagement and her family punished her. Her brothers did this to her and then they dumped her in Autumn.”

“Why would Eris break off the engagement?”

Valeria lifted her head, watching as Rhysand’s gaze darkened. The anger was not directed at her but at someone behind her. “Cassian.” He snarled. “Look at what you did.”

Valeria turned around. Azriel and Cassian stood behind her, a couple of feet away from her and Mor. Azriel’s face was stoic and unreadable but there was an icy rage within his hazel eyes. Cassian was frozen in pure horror as his eyes landed on the unconscious and bleeding female. He barely had enough time to react before Rhysand was lunging forward.

Rhysand pinned Cassian to the floor, shadows and darkness madly swirling around him. He gripped Cassian’s leathers to bring him up and then slammed him back down to the floor. 

Rhysand’s hands wrapped themselves around Cassian’s throat. “You knew the consequences but you couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you?”

“Rhys.” Azriel reached out to pull Rhysand off of Cassian but was met with the wrath of Rhysand’s darkness.

“It wasn’t like that.” Cassian croaked out, his eyes pleading with him to hear him out. “Please–”

“Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Valeria caught the sight of Mor stirring in bed, her face contorting in pain. 

“Enough!” Valeria exclaimed sharply, silver tendrils of moonlight escaping from her fingertips. They darted toward Rhysand, shattering his cloud of darkness and forcing him apart from Cassian.

Rhysand slammed into the floor, the silver tendrils wrapping around his wrists and anchoring him to the ground. Cassian was gasping for air and Azriel rushed to his hide, helping him to his feet. Rhysand’s gaze widened in disbelief as it landed on his sister. He knew she had powers but he had never seen them so violently on display and never had anyone been able to overcome his own.

Valeria was glowing, her powers trickling from her hands and threatening to lash out again. “I don’t care what happened but there will be no more injuries. Enough harm has been done.”

The door to the infirmary opened, her mother and Madja rushing in.

Valeria’s eyes were cold and demanding as they burned into her brother’s. His lips curled into a deep frown. She had never looked at him that way before. 

“Val–”

“Leave.”

**

Days had passed and Valeria spent them at Mor’s side. She seldom left, only to shower, change or eat, but even then, she always made sure there was someone with Mor. Sometimes, it would be her mother, Rhysand or Azriel. She was reluctant to let Cassian watch over her, worried over what could transpire if Rhysand and Cassian bumped into each other, but she made sure to keep her friend up to date with Mor’s status.

It was on the eighth day that Mor finally woke. Her body was slowly healing. She had confessed everything to Valeria, on how Valeria’s words the night they went to Rita’s inspired her. She knew the consequences of her actions but she would much rather face those than live a life where she was forced to remain by Eris’s side. It wasn’t just Cassian she had spent the night with but Tanwyn as well and she had made Valeria promise that she would leave that detail out if anyone asked.

As Valeria held her crying cousin close, she couldn’t help the tears that fell from her own eyes. “I need to talk to him.” Mor whispered. “Cassian needs to know that I don’t blame him for this.”

Valeria nodded. “I’ll go get him for you.”

**

Valeria had given Cassian and Mor privacy. She froze when she felt her brother’s presence. “Rhys.”

The two hadn’t spoken much over the past couple of days. Valeria knew that Rhysand’s actions had been spurred by his protectiveness over Mor but she did not concur with the way he had attacked Cassian. Rhysand had apologized to her and to Mor but he knew it was Cassian who needed to hear it. Guilt flickered in his violet eyes.

“I need to talk to him.” 

“After.”

She felt the cool caress of his shadows before she saw him. They slivered up her arms, coaxing her head to turn toward their master. She hadn’t spoken to Azriel much either. She was relieved that he was here, her body yearning to be close to him but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The way Rhysand had reacted to Cassian and Mor struck a sense of fear in her and Azriel, always attune to her, could feel it too.

When Cassian slipped out from the infirmary, she felt herself tense up. There was a reassuring tug, tempting her gaze to Azriel again just as his shadows had done. He would be present and willing to intervene if things got heated again. It was only after she felt another tug that she allowed herself to return to Mor, sending a wary glance to each of them.

**

Rhysand’s head hung low as they all sat in one of the living spaces of the palace. Azriel and Cassian had refused to sit in case they had to spring into action. Cassian leant against one of the pillars while Azriel stood in between them both. His shadows were curled against his ear, keeping him alert on every movement and breath. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Rhysand said. He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes brimming with tears. “Mor is like a sister to me and seeing her hurt–” he grimaced as the image resurfaced “--I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. I was just so angry but you didn't deserve that. She explained everything to me. I just wish you would’ve come to me first. We could’ve planned something, I–I could’ve protected her.”

Cassian mirrored Rhysand’s sullen expression. This was the first time they had fought over a serious matter and gone days without speaking. “I’m sorry too.” 

The two exchanged a teary look and before they knew it, they were hugging and forcing Azriel to join.

When they pulled away, Rhysand dragged a hand down his face, his features betraying his exhaustion from the previous days. He looked at his two closest friends, his brothers. “We can’t keep secrets like this from each other.” He sighed. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Azriel’s shadows stopped their whispering and froze as their master’s wings twitched. This was his chance to tell Rhysand–to come out clean. Perhaps, Rhysand would be understanding, he would find a way to help him and Valeria. But it was Cassian’s gaze he met first and he moved his head in a subtle manner. Don’t. 

“Alright then,” Rhysand broke the silence. He tapped Cassian and Azriel on the shoulder in a farewell gesture. “I need to go speak to my father over Mor’s new living arrangements. She’ll be staying with Valeria and my mother from now on.”

**

Shadows danced around them, enveloping them in a cloud of darkness and keeping their exchanged words a secret.

“I fucked up.” Cassian said with a frown, his wings sagging to the floor. While Mor and Rhysand had forgiven him, he couldn't forgive himself. He knew that Mor would face great punishment for losing her virginity to him but he would've never imagined it'd result in something as terrible and cruel as this. “Didn’t I?”

“Yes.” Azriel answered dryly. “You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

“It’s different.” Cassian was quick to reply.

Azriel glared, remembering their conversation from weeks ago, when Cassian had warned him to stay away from Valeria, reminding them of the consequences that laid ahead of them if they continued to be together. And then Cassian had gone and done something similar with Mor and it was only Mor who had to face the brutal consequence of their actions alone. This is exactly what Cassian had warned him about so how was it any different?

“It’s not.”

“I don’t love Mor and it was a one time thing only. You, on the other hand…” Cassian’s voice trailed off. 

Azriel braced himself for Cassian’s expected harshness, anticipating an insult. He was not prepared for the sting of the words that followed:

“Let this be a reminder to us, as cruel as it is, that in this world, you and I are no different than the females in Prythian in some aspect. We are not free to want things. We are not free to love who we want. We are not deemed worthy."

As Cassian took a step back, Azriel’s shadows fell. They returned to their master, sensing his hurt and snaked around his limbs. They wrapped him in their loving embrace, offering the comfort they had provided for many years. 

Not deemed worthy. The words had sliced through him like a blade, shattering the fragile illusion he had painstakingly built around himself. It was an illusion he clung to desperately, hoping that Valeria could one day be his–that he would one day be worthy of her smile, her heart.

Falling in love with her had been effortless, inevitable almost. But he was no lord, bore no high status. He was a bastard and the realization of his unworthiness cut deep– a painful acknowledgement that she, the High Lord’s daughter, was beyond reach. His reach. 

He would forever be hers but she would never be his–could never be his. A love forbidden, an unattainable dream.

**

tag list:  @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

A/N: this part was hard to write for me because Cassian did the one thing he warned Azriel about so I tried my best to convey both of their feelings. What happened between Mor and Cass was consensual and Mor was aware of what could happen still no excuse for what her family did to her, broke my heart when I read that part in the book while Azriel and Valeria are in their own little bubble, choosing to ignore the consequences. So while they essentially did the same thing, their intentions were different.

There is a small glimpse into how Rhysand will react once he finds out about Az and Val. I also wanted to include/mention her powers. I'll dive deeper into them in her storyline but she has powers related to the moon, which is why I'm always comparing them lol. Hope y'all still enjoyed this part!

[analogwriting]

Beer Pong

Killer x gn!reader word count: 3.3k a/n: this idea came to me while i was obliterated and playing beer pong. the only thing i could think of was how much i wanted killer to rail me. also disclaimer, i'm actually ASS at beer pong lmfao. also also, only one version of this one bc it doesn't quite go that far whoops

“C’mon! Who else wants to challenge the undefeated champ of beer pong?” Your voice was loud enough for people to hear over the thumping music of the party that you and your brother were hosting. 

It was the same every year. The two of you would host an end of the year party and invite all of your friends, have them invite their friends who invited their friends and so on. It was one of the biggest parties of the year every year. It’s been a tradition at this point for about five or six years.

“I think you’ve officially defeated everyone, Bigs.” Your younger brother, Kid, chimed as he walked into the room you were in. This was also the same every year. Those who have been to the parties before knew how ruthless you were at beer pong. Some of them never tried challenging you again, some would practice throughout the year just to take you on again. Newcomers also challenged you. However, no one was able to beat you for the past three years.

You huffed, folding your arms. “That’s so lame!” How much you drank didn’t affect your ability to win either. You were somewhat sloshed and still crushing everyone at the party.

“I’ll challenge them,” you heard a deep voice come from behind you. The room you were in had several different entrances. You looked behind you, seeing the finest piece of man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. Motherfucker took your breath away - almost. You blinked.

“Killer! You made it!” You turned, seeing your brother walking over to him to greet him. You watched in confusion for a moment. The hell kind of name was that? 

“Bigs, this is Killer, he’s one of the new teachers for one of my mechanics classes.” You blinked, nodding at him, still stunned by how unbelievably hot he was. 

“Killer, this is my older sibling, y/n.” Killer offered a small wave with a lazy smile that made your heart skip a beat and your body warm up. “‘S a pleasure. Heard a lot about you.”

You glared at your brother for a moment who shot his hands up in defense. “All good things, I promise.”

“Bullshit.”

He cackled, putting his hands back down. “You’re right.”

You felt your eye twitch, but you kept yourself in check. You looked to Killer. “You said you wanted to take on the challenge?” you mused, a devious glint in your eye as a grin spread across your face. You were going to absolutely obliterate him.

Killer matched your grin. “Absolutely. I’ve heard about your skills, so I figured I’d test the waters. I play a lot myself, actually.” He shrugged.

Kid spoke up. “They’re undefeated, so I’d proceed with caution.” Without looking away from you, Killer nodded. “No need. I think it’ll be fine.”

Now, who the hell did he think he was? He really had that much confidence that he thought he was going to beat you? Genuinely? You narrowed your eyes at him. You weren’t going to admit it, but his cockiness was insanely hot. Too bad you were about to humble the shit out of him. Nothing excited you more than being able to crush the dreams of the hopeful.

“Then take your place at the other side of the table.” You gestured.

He did as instructed and the game began. You started off strong, immediately sinking the first one. He tossed his ball and it bounced off one of them. “Oo, too bad. Sure it’s just a warm up, right?” you mused, grinning.

He just shrugged, sharing your grin. He didn’t seem to be worried at all in the slightest. 

You decided to give him a fair shot, purposefully missing some to keep the game going. Some of his that spun around the inside of the cup, you could’ve pulled in time but you let sink. 

“Stop doing that,” Killer said, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes at you as you missed another shot.

“Doing what?” You blinked. There was no way he caught on that easily. He’d never seen you play before, so how the hell would he know?

“You know what you’re doing.” You narrowed your eyes at him, putting a hand on your hip. “If that’s the way you want to be - fine. Don’t cry when I obliterate you.” You were pissed now. Who the hell did he think he was?

It wasn’t long before you knocked out most of his cups and he’d only gotten one or two of yours. He was about to toss when he paused. “What do I get if I win?” he asked, a mischievous look in his eyes.

You blinked, looking at the table. There was no way in hell this man was winning. It’d be a miracle. “If you somehow manage to make it back and win - I’ll give you the best head you’ve ever had,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. 

“I could’ve went my whole life without hearing that,” Kid chimed from the sidelines, making a face. You just looked at him. “Sorry not sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t be in here with the grown ups then.”

“You’re only four years older than me, Bigs, so shut up.” You both were in your twenties, but it was your duty as the older sibling to always hang it above his head that you were, in fact, older.

You just snorted, rolling your eyes before you heard a ball sink into one of your cups. You blinked, looking to Killer across the table. Lucky shot. “You should be focused on me,” he said, a glint of something wild in his eyes. It made your heart race with excitement. “You want head that bad?”

“Okay, I’m out.” Kid threw his hands up, heading out of the room and you just laughed, but you didn’t take your eyes off the man across the table from you.

Killer just shrugged, the corner of his mouth curling a bit. “Maybe.” You didn’t know what he was playing, but it excited you.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how it happened, but next thing you knew, you both only had one cup left. He had been able to distract you during your throws to make you miss, pulled out your ball as it spun in the cup, and sink every single one of his ping pong balls into the cups. People had started gathering, watching as you desperately tried to save face. You had no idea what was going on. You’d never been smoked like this before.

“Were you fucking toying with me this whole time?” you said, feeling your eye twitch as you glared at the man before you. He just grinned, shrugging. “I did say that I play too.”

With that, he sank his ball into your cup. This was your last chance - redemption. If you made it into his cup, you’d be safe and the both of you would go another round. You took a deep breath, not looking at him. You knew if you did, you’d fuck up and end up missing your shot.

You went to throw but heard him make a noise, drawing your attention to him. He looked at you, winking and licking his lips right as you threw the ball. As you predicted, you fucking missed, costing you the game. The room was silent for a moment, distant conversations heard in others rooms and music thumping.

Then it erupted into cheers. “That was the greatest game I’ve ever watched!”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe they lost!”

“Finally! Someone who was able to knock them down a peg!”

“Was kind of hoping they would win. It’s weird having a different reigning champ now.”

The conversations and cheers blurred together as you just stared at the cup across from you. You couldn’t fucking believe you just lost. Three years and you’ve never lost. Not once. Ever since you started playing, you were just fucking good at it. And now that was all over.

You didn’t even process that Killer had moved from his spot until you felt someone hoist you over their shoulder. You were yanked back into reality as you were lifted into the air. “What the hell?!” You noticed that it was Killer who had tossed you over his shoulder.

“I believe someone owes me ‘the best head I’ve ever had’,” he mused as he started carrying you towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms upstairs. This motherfucker had been planning this all along and you couldn’t believe you fell for it - hook, line, and sinker. Fuck.

Dammit. You just had to say that, didn’t you? You grumbled. As you were carried, various people whistled and cheered. “Yeah! Get it, newbie!”

“Gotta pay up, y/n!” 

“Taking your spoils from victory, huh?” 

You covered your face with your hands, feeling your entire body heat up with embarrassment. You couldn’t fucking believe this. And now everyone knew what was going to happen next and you couldn’t function. You just had to open your big mouth. God, you were never living this down. This was like the walk of shame only before the shag not after.

You heard him enter a room and close the door before setting you down gently. You still had your face hidden, unable to look at him.

“Y/n?” You were silent, not wanting to say anything. You were beyond embarrassed at this point. You felt his hands on yours, trying to pull your hands away. You kept them firm against your face and you heard him sigh, his breath dancing across your skin.

“Y/n, I’m not going to make you do anything. That was all for show.”

“Bullshit.” You finally removed your hands from your face, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m sure you want nothing more than to put the mouthy brat in thei-” You stopped, noticing the concerned look on his face.

You blinked, processing. Oh, he was serious. You shook your head, pulling your hands away and pushing him towards the bed.

“Nah, I keep my word. So, you best get ready for the best blow job you’ve ever had.” He stumbled, plopping onto the edge of the bed in surprise. It took him a moment to catch up before he snorted. “I mean, I’m not going to say no to a free blow job, but we’ll see if it’s the best.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was using your competitiveness against you and it was working. How the fuck did he already have you figured out? You know what? What the fuck ever. You were going to give him the time of his life and make him beg for more.

You dropped to your knees right before the bed and in between his legs. “You know just how to get under my skin,” you grumbled.

“It’s not hard.” 

You just stopped for a moment, hands on his pants. “I will absolutely rip your dick off.” He just stuck his hands up with a snort. “I fold. I’d like to keep my dick. Besides, how am I supposed to rail you otherwise?”

You blinked several times. Oh? “You think you’re gonna rail me, huh?” He just grinned and you narrowed your eyes. You didn’t know what fucking game he was playing but you were about to bite his entire dick off if he kept it up.

You made quick work of his pants, undoing the buttons and pulling him out. Your eyes widened slightly. Jesus fuck, he was huge. Possibly the biggest you’ve been with. That thing could tear you in half probably. You could feel your own body heat up, it only made you more excited.

With as hard as he was, you were sure he’s been hard for a while now. “Beer pong your version of foreplay?” you mused, pressing a kiss to the base of his cock. He let out a hiss through his teeth, leaning back on his hands. “Not really,” he ground out. If these minimal touches were enough to make him act like that, you weren’t sure he was going to last long at all.

You began to slide your hand up and down the length of his cock, earning a small groan from him. “Not really? Then what was it then?” A smug smile spread across your face as you dragged your palm over his tip before running your hand back down again. You could already see his chest heaving. He was already struggling.

“Probably something to do with the really cute hot head across from me,” he ground out. You gasped as he called you a ‘hot head’, squeezing the base of his cock, causing him to growl slightly as he tilted his head back. Oh, you liked that noise.

“A hot head, huh?” Was he wrong? No, but you weren’t about to let him just call you that. You let go of him, standing up. “I believe I told you to stop playing these games, Killer,” you mused, turning and acting like you were about to leave when you felt him grab your wrist, pulling you into his lap.

You gasped, feeling your face set ablaze. His lips pressed against your neck as your back pressed against his chest. You went to pull away but his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you in close. “Don’t be like that,” he cooed against you. You felt a shiver down your spine, your heart about to jump out of his chest. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” You had a small feeling he knew exactly what game you were playing, but he was going along with it. Probably seeing if you’d stick to your bit.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself in check and trying to keep your attitude the same. You cleared your throat. “F-Fine.” You were trying hard to keep yourself together and not fling yourself at him.

“I’ll let it slide. This is your last chance.” You were fighting to keep your breathing even as you felt him smile against your skin. God fucking dammit. He was impossible.

You pulled away from him again and he let you go this time as you dropped between his knees once more. Your face felt like it was on fire as you suddenly wondered if you reacted exactly how he had planned. Was he some evil mastermind? No, it wasn’t that.

Jesus fuck could your mind just shut up. It wasn’t that deep.

You took his cock in your hand once more, feeling it twitch with excitement. You looked up as he licked his lips, watching you. Again, your face felt like it was on fire under his intense stare but you shrugged it off, pressing your lips to the tip. You felt his body shift as he leaned back on his hands once more, slowly melting as you began to run your tongue down the side of his shaft.

One of his hands found its way into your hair, tugging at it slightly as you began to slide the entirety of his cock into your mouth. The deeper you took him - the harder he pulled, making you moan around him. The sudden vibration caused him to buck his hips, shoving himself down your throat rather suddenly. 

Luckily for you, you didn’t really have a gag reflex, so you mostly just widened your eyes in surprise as you suddenly felt your throat stretch and your nose press against him. Fuck, you could probably reach your own climax just from giving him a blow job at this rate.

You slowly pulled off of him, making him groan lowly. You quickly found a rhythm and pace, beginning to bob your head and work his cock like the pro you were. This wasn’t your first rodeo sucking dick, but it surely was the biggest.

You just prayed you didn’t end up with lockjaw due to his size. That would be a nightmare; not to mention you’d die of embarrassment.

It wasn’t long before you felt Killer begin to roll his hips, pressing him further down your throat each time. “Fuck,” he breathed, panting heavily at this point. Honestly, he was lasting longer than you thought he would. You thought he would’ve finished the first time you shoved him down your throat, but he was still going.

With how much he was twitching and throbbing, you knew he didn’t have much longer anymore.

The hand in your hair suddenly grabbed you a bit rougher, keeping you in place slightly. Your eyes widened as you knew exactly what he was going to do next, so you relaxed your jaw and gripped his thighs as you braced yourself. His hips started thrusting much rougher now as he fucked the shit out of your throat. 

You definitely were gonna feel that in the morning. Not that you cared because honestly, this was the best time you’ve had in a while. Shit, you might have to keep him around.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your own body heating up more and more. A coil was forming in your stomach, tightening with each thrust as you held onto his hips for dear life. Were you really going to finish just from this?

Part of you hoped that he wouldn’t be tapped out after this so you could keep going.

The man’s hips suddenly stopped as he shoved himself deep down your throat, releasing fully inside of you. It was enough to send you over the edge, moaning against him as you came yourself, making a mess of the pants you were wearing. Fuck.

Killer slowly pulled out of you, you carefully making sure you swallowed every bit of semen that he gave you as he did so. Once he was pulled out, you gasped for air. Both of you were panting; your head spinning rapidly, your body buzzing. Fuck, you hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

You felt him pull you up, kissing you hard and sloppy. Instantly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back, and moaned into him. 

After a few minutes of a hard make out session, he pulled away from you. Both of you were still panting, but a little less so than before. “You still have it in you to keep going?”

You looked at him with surprise, but excitement. You had hoped he’d have enough juice to keep going. “Mm, maybe. How’d I do? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Gonna have to start calling you Sloppenheimer with how bomb that head was.”

You stopped, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Then you stood up, throwing your hands up. “Okay, I’m out.” Just as your brother had done earlier.

Killer laughed. “Wait, no!” 

“No! Absolutely not! I can’t believe you said that!” You felt as he grabbed you around the waist pulling you back into bed. “That’s the dorkiest and dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!” you shrieked as he pinned you beneath him. You pouted up at him.

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. Should’ve saved that line for later.” He grinned, looking down at you. “You actually should never had said it because that was so lame.”

He just smiled at you. “You win. That was the best head I’ve ever had. Gonna have to keep you around,” he mused. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, shut up and just fuck me already.” 

Killer just grinned, kissing you hard. You knew you were going to be in for a long night. And he was right, you were probably gonna have to keep him around.

[ultralightpoe]

Full House llll - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: This one is a bit short but I'm starting something and I hope you guys like it.

Word Count: 8,831

Warnings: angst again? but not bad.

Part One HERE.. Part Two HERE.. Part Three HERE.. Part Four HERE..

(Thank you for the gif @lightningcrashes)

Enjoy!

The Johnsons Prison Facility loomed over Eddie, the same shadowy feeling he always used to get when visiting. 

Back then, when Wayne had brought him, Eddie had refused to take the man’s hand. His father hated when Eddie held into his mom and uncles hand, used to say it made him look like a baby. 

He always wanted to make it seem like he was tough, and maybe…. Just maybe his dad would be proud of him. 

But then he grew into his teen years and Wayne stopped coming, too disgusted by his brother, so Eddie was left to deal with his father by himself. And in his teen years Eddie was still trying desperately to get his dads attention but he was more at ease thanks to Wayne. 

Now? He held Motleys hand as she stood by him staring up at the building. In her arm she held her school folder with all the research needed for this family tree. 

With Eddie’s help, and your information, she decided she would fill in Billys side. And she would add Eddie’s side. 

“You ready?” He asks, clearing his throat. 

“Are you?” 

“If you’re here with me? Always.” He smiles and leads her in. They sign in, putting all their belongings in the bin including his rings. When the officer stops Motley she is forced to put her grandmothers ring in the bin, still on the chain Eddie had made for it. 

“It’ll be fine here kid.” The officer smiles. “He used to do that too.” 

Johnson’s prison facility was 2 hours away from Hawkins, and they had three main cops that have been here since Eddie had started coming. 

He leads them to the cafeteria where 4 guards stand and Eddie takes a seat, keeping Motley pressed into his side as he waits for them to bring in his dad. 

10 minutes go by and then he’s there, handcuffed and smiling from ear to ear as Robert Munson is brought to the table. 

“Edward.” He greets, waiting for the officer to cuff him to the table. He grunts in pain when the officer tightens it a little too much, glaring up at him. “Hey man. Think you can take it easy? That's my granddaughter there.” 

“How did….” Eddie begins to ask. 

“Wayne called me a couple days ago. Warned me about how I needed to act. My little fucking brother calling me to tell me to respect my own fucking son and-“ He stops when he sees Eddie’s glare, turning instead to the girl sat beside him. “What’s your name sweetie?” 

“Motley.” She smiles. 

“Jesus. Still into that rock music bullshit? You named your kid after them?” He laughs. 

“He didn’t name me. My mom did.” Motley answers quickly. “She named all of us.” 

“How many of you are there?” 

“Four.” 

“Wow. Someone has stayed busy.” He chuckles, casting a side eye to Eddie. “You let her name all four?” 

“The first two I wasn’t there for. The last two I figured she spent 7 hours pushing my boys out that she should get the naming privileges.” Eddie mumbles, tapping his knuckles on the table. 

“You weren’t there for the first two?” 

“No. I didn’t meet them until Metalhead here was 6.” Eddie smiles at Motley, pushing his head to her forehead which makes her laugh. 

“So she’s not yours?” 

“She’s mine. She just didn’t come from me.” Eddie says defensively. “Kind of like Wayne and I.” 

He watches as his comment sinks in, the man’s face falling a bit as he stares at Eddie before nodding slowly. “You got a picture?” 

Motley nods, opening her school folder to pull out the most recent family photo. 

Eddie stood in the photo, dressed in a button up and slacks with his hair pulled back into a low bun and you beside him in a nice outfit. Motley stood in front of him, smiling from ear to ear in her own dress with her long hair curled and her newly pierced ears shown. Ziggy stood beside her holding your hand with her hair in pigtails and a dress that cost you three pancakes to get her to wear it. The boys were both in their cute little baby ties, one in your hands and the other sitting on Wayne’s lap. 

Wayne sat in the middle, Halen giggling widely as everyone smiled and you could see the happiness in Eddie’s 

“Wow. Look at you guys.” His dad murmurs, nodding awkwardly. “That’s a….. you got a good family Wardie.” 

“Wardie?” Motley asks looking up at Eddie. 

“It’s what he used to call me. Way back when I was growing up.” 

“What’s all this for?” He asks, waving his hand to all her papers. 

“I’m doing a family tree and I have some questions. If you would be okay answering them.” 

“I got…. An hour with you guys so let’s get it done.” He smiles. 

The next 40 minutes he talks to Motley about the family, and about his mothers side of the family. Once Motley answers all her questions she closes the folder and stares at him dead on. 

“I just wanted to say….. my dad is one of the best. He didn’t have to stay but he did and he’s made my life better. He’s a good man. You should know that.” And Eddie has no clue what to say, neither does his father. Both just blinking at her for a moment as she packs up her folder before shuffling to give him a side hug. 

Eddie gets protective, standing quickly as Robert tries to hug back but the cuffs prevent it. “It was nice meeting you.” 

“You as well.” She smiles before moving to follow the guard out. 

“Edward. If you would wait just a moment.” His dad sighs, and Eddie sits back down. “I…. I think you’re a great man. I always knew you would be and I’m sorry if I- not if. I’m sorry that I treated you the way I did and constantly hurt not only your physical health but your mental health. I’m sober and I’ve come to realize how bad I was.” 

Eddie nods, he doesn’t really know how else to respond to that. 

“I…. Well I miss you, and my brother. They have family visitation in April and I…. It would mean the world to me- but you don’t owe me anything- if you brought your family. I could make ‘em little wooden sculptures. I’ve gotten good at those.” 

“I…. I’ll talk to my wife about it.” Eddie nods. And then Robert is nodding his head to the guard at the door who brings over a small little ornament carved out of wood, a bat. 

“Last time I saw ya I saw your bat tattoos. We have shop here so I made that.” 

“Thank you.” Eddie nods. “Means a lot.” 

- 

“And slowly, with each step rattling the ground beneath the travelers feet, the goblin king was upon them!” Eddie narrates with an excited look in his eyes, making the entire table sit on the edge of their seats. 

The party; Lucas, Erica, Mike, Dustin, Gareth, Jeff, and Paul; had collected at the house and Eddie had stolen the dining room for the night and banned the girls from entering or interrupting the campaign the party had been trying to schedule for months. 

They obviously started off butt hurt but once you told them you’d let them eat dinner in front of the tv they had gotten more excited about it. 

So you had made dinner, and got them set up as Eddie began his campaign. 

You sat with the kids on the floor, working on a crossword puzzle as the girls kept their eyes glued to the screen. 

Here’s the thing, Eddie told the girls they couldn’t come in but he never exclusively said the boys couldn’t come in. So when Ozzy emerged at the door Eddie gave him a warning look that said ‘back away’ and it always used to work in school. Jocks used to back away from the lunch table easily and theater kids would dash from the drama room quickly. 

But Ozzy? Nooooo. Ozzy liked to cause problems and fight against the punishment. 

He smiles at his dads warning look and gets a little further in the kitchen as Eddie tries to concentrate on the campaign. “And with an angry roar he reaches a heavy fist out to slam against the ground and ‘BAM!’-“ Eddie slams his fist on the table. 

“Bam bam!” Ozzy repeats, hitting the fridge like Eddie had hit the table. 

“Yeah dude. Get into it.” Jeff smiles. 

“The goblin hits the ground so hard the earth begins to crack and tear beneath you travelers! What will you -Ozzy no.” Eddie doesn’t have time to react as his son dashes to the table and sticks his grubby little toddler fingers out to snatch Paul’s little figurine. 

“Hey! Eddie that thing stole my-“ Paul begins whining. 

“That thing is my son so watch your mouth.” He warns before snapping his fingers at Ozzy. “Give it.” 

Ozzy doesn’t, and when Paul reaches for him he screams out and shakes his head. “NO NO NO!” 

“He doesn’t like to be touched.” Eddie explains. 

“Don’t touch him.” Lucas snaps. 

“Well he-“ and then it happens. Ozzy pulls his hand back and chucks the goblin straight into Paul’s face so hard Eddie gasps. 

“OW YOU LITTLE FUCK!” Paul yells, covering the spot leaking with blood. 

“BAM BAM!” 

You appear in the doorway then, eyes wide as you reach for Ozzy. “I’m sorry guys.” 

“Can’t you keep control of the kids?” 

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Eddie sneers, finger in his face. “Dude we’ve been planning this night for months and we all have to work around your schedule with your kids. This is insane!” 

“Hey. Erica and I have a newborn so it was us too.” Dustin defends, standing up. “And Lucas has away games and Mike is busy with his internship. Gareth owns a bar and Jeff is taking care of his mom. Not all of us have all day and night Paul.” 

“Guys. I’m sorry. I’ll get a washcloth for your face and set the baby gate up. Okay? Just get back to your game.” You try, pulling Ozzys hand to lead him out. 

“ITS NOT A GAME!” Paul snaps and Ozzy whirls back. 

“No yell Mama!” He yells, dashing around the table. Eddie already moving to catch him but before he can Ozzy hits Paul straight in the crotch. 

“Oh! Get him Ozzy!” Mike laughs as Eddie lifts his kid by the back of his shirt and pulls him away.

“No yell mama!” Ozzy repeats himself which pulls Ziggy and Motley into the room. 

“Who yelled at mom?” 

Ozzy answers his older sisters question by pointing straight at Paul. 

“Don’t yell at my mom!” Motley snaps and Ziggys face gets red. 

“Eddie. Get your kids man.” 

“YOU’RE AN UGLY BLOWFISH!” Ziggy shouts. 

“PEPPERONI FACE!” Motley adds. 

“And you stink!” Mike helps, smiling from ear to ear. 

“POOPOO HEAD!” 

Paul collects his stuff angrily, cussing under his breath on the way out before slamming the front door harshly. 

“Anyone else want to go?” Eddie asks. “Cause I love you guys but my kids and wife are more important. So if you have a problem with them then go.” 

Everyone looks around at each other and shrugs, getting comfortable again as Eddie sets Ozzy down. The girls move over to kiss his cheek before dashing back to the tv. 

“I do have dessert cooking guys.” You mumble, still obviously awkward as you try to reach for Ozzy. He moves away and struggles to get onto Paul’s empty seat. 

Eddie watches as he gets settled, his face just meeting the table. 

“No Ozzy.” 

“Yes Ozzy.” His son argues. Jesus he looked just like Eddie. 

“Oz, come on. I’ll put on Scooby.” You try again and he shakes his head. 

“I’m cool if he stays.” Gareth smiles, shrugging. “He seems to be really into it” 

The rest of the table agrees and you nod, looking to Eddie to make sure. 

“You can stay. But no throwing anything.” He orders and he knows that Ozzy didn’t actually hear a word as he giggles. 

You move to leave to the living room but Eddie stands quickly to catch you and give you a deep kiss. 

“Enjoy your g….campaign.” You smile, heading back out with the girls and Halen. 

Once Eddie starts again Ozzy stays seated which is extremely odd for the toddler, and everytime Eddie makes an over dramatic sound Ozzy repeats it. 

Every “Bam” is met with a “bam bam!”, and every “boom!” Is quickly followed by a “BOOOOM!” and the party seems to love it. 

Lucas lets Ozzy roll for him, laughing every single time he rolls a Nat 20 to Dustin’s measly 1’s. 

And suddenly Ozzy was there every week to watch them play. 

-

(Let me tell you. Eddie’s kids stand on BUSINESS) 

The day you both took them to get their vaccines was filled with tricks and lies. Your good parents, you knew how this game was played. 

The agreement was if they all behaved during their doctors appointment then they could all get a toy and an ice cream cone. 

So they all piled into the car and played nice until you got to the doctors office. Then to make things easier the doctor pulled you all back and you planned on it being easy. 

But of course it wouldn’t be easy because the kids saw the needle. 

“No no no no no.” Motley begs, her face pressed into Eddie’s abdomen as he keeps one hand on her head to keep her there and the other rubbing her back gently. 

“Breathe. It will be okay. Just a second.” He promises, watching the needle go in and holding his breath as Motley tenses with tears sliding down her face. 

Ziggy cries, Halen and Ozzy crying too as the doctor congratulates Motley and sticks a bandaid over her arm before handing her a lollipop. 

She glares, still crying as she mumbles out “you’re mean,” to the poor doctor and hopping off the table. Eddie gives her another hug, kissing her head before you’re bringing Ziggy up to the table. 

She kicks out and screams as you try and relax her, and Eddie does what he did for Motley and shoves her face in his abdomen so she doesn’t have to look. 

“Come on Zigs. You got this.” He whispers and the doctor pushes the needle into her arm. She cries out, and once the needle is replaced with a bandaid she is far less forgiving than her sister. “Bitch.” 

“Heyyyy.” Eddie warns, helping her off the table to replace her with Halen. 

The youngest was surprisingly calm. He whines out at the pinch of pain but the second he has a transformers bandaid on he is distracted and easy to woo. 

Ozzy however was not having it. He fought you getting onto the table and he fought Eddie trying to hold him. Finally it got to the point where Eddie had to hold his arms down just for the doctor to go ahead and once it was done and Eddie thought it safe to let go your son took a swing on the doctor. 

It hits her in the cheek and Eddie is apologizing immediately as she laughs it off mumbling that it’s not the first time. 

You snatch him from the table and pull him out of the room as Eddie continues to apologize, the doctor just waves him off and laughs. 

The car ride is silent as you and Eddie both try to figure out what to say. You had reached the point with Ozzy where he wasn’t listening to your warnings or lectures but neither of you wanted to hit him. So you didn’t know what to do. 

“That’s it.” You snap, unbuckling quickly and bending to snatch his arm from the seat behind yours and biting down hard enough to make him cry out before pulling back. 

“That hurt?!” 

“YES MAMA!” He screams. 

“Good! No more hitting or biting or kicking!” You yell back. “And everyone but you gets ice cream because you’re a mean baby!” 

“NO MAMA!” 

“Yes! Now shut the hell up and think about what you did!” Adrenaline is coursing through you and you already feel bad for yelling at him but you turn to face the front and see Eddie trying his best not to laugh. 

“You just bit our kid.” 

“That’s not a kid. That’s a villain.” You snap. 

“Think you can bite me sometime?” He teases and you try not to laugh as you look out the window. 

“I think I can make something happen.” 

And when Eddie pulls into the ice cream parking lot the other kids all jump out, Halen being grabbed by Eddie as you move to the back to sit with Ozzy. 

“Mama please.” 

“No.” 

“Mama…. Pwease!” He whines, eyes filling with tears. 

“You were bad Ozzy. Very bad.” You mumble, reading your book as he pouts and cries. There is a knock at the window and you crank it down to greet your husband. 

“Wanted to make sure it was going okay in here.” 

“That’s why I sent you in because you cave in too easily.” You sigh, seeing the puppy dog eyes of your husband. “Eddie, he needs to learn.” 

“But he’s so young and he-“ you start rolling the window back up, with a roll of your eyes. 

“Wait wait. Fine. Okay? He was bad.” Eddie sighs. “But that’s our little man! Look at him.” 

You don’t want to because you know you’ll be met with the spitting image of your adorable husband. 

“Just…. Come on baby.” Eddie whines and you roll your eyes again. 

“I sowwy!” Ozzy sniffles and you feel yourself break under pressure. 

“He’s sowwy.” Eddie coos. 

“F-fine.” You sigh, moving to unbuckle him and get out of the car. “But I swear-“ 

Eddie is grabbing him already and you go to sit where the rest were sitting, watching Eddie take him to the counter to choose an ice cream. 

When they come back Ozzy moves to sit in your lap, which shocks you because he normally hates that. 

He keeps the side of his head on your chest as he eats the ice cream and you’re able to read as Ziggy talks Eddie’s ear off about how brave she was. 

“You were brave. All my dorks did so good.” He smiles, leaning to sneak a gummy bear out of her ice cream. 

“Daddy!”  She whines but he sticks out his tongue which makes her stick out her tongue. Halen tries but he had a mouth full of chocolate ice cream so Eddie is quick to tell him no. 

“How is ice cream made?” Ziggys asks and Eddie shrugs. “Am I supposed to know?” 

“Yes?” 

“I’m supposed to know how ice cream is made?” Eddie scoffs, looking shocked. 

“Yes!” 

“Then you tell me how babies are made.” 

“Mommy makes them. Duh.” She responds like he’s stupid. “Where were you?” 

“I can promise you I was right there.” Eddie laughs and you glare which makes him laugh harder, leaning back in his chair to give himself room to cackle. 

Halen imitates his cackle which makes Eddie laugh harder until his chair falls backwards and all you can see are his feet flying in the air. 

Motley and Ziggy laugh loudly, both rushing to go help him up and you shake your head. 

“You’re where Ozzy gets it from.” 

“I think I broke my back-“ 

-

“Ow. Baby.” Eddie groans, laying face first into the pillow as you climb into bed. 

“What’s wrong?” You tease laying down and adjusting the blanket to cover you. You feel his hand reach out as he grunts in pain, looking for you. 

“Baby come here.” 

“Why?” 

“Because we always cuddle!” He sighs, already agitated. 

“How am I supposed to cuddle you right now? You’re in pain.”

“Come on….. just. God damn it come here.” He snaps, pulling you in and grunting in pain. “Just need you near. That’s all I want.” 

“You’re old.” You murmur, rubbing his lower back a little. “Stay still. I’ll go get the icy hot.” 

-

“Nope! No!” Eddie shouts, dashing after where Halen just escaped from butt naked. “Come here boy!” 

Halen merely giggles and when Eddie runs around the corner he nearly collides with Ziggy, jumping over her like a fence. “Sorry sweetie!” 

“I’m stealing your-“ he doesn’t hear the rest, zipping after Halen and just managing to catch him before he goes to bother you in the kitchen. “It’s bathtime little man. And it’s also rude to run with your junk out.” 

“No bath!” 

“Yes bath!” Eddie laughs. “You smell like grandpa Wayne.” 

“Heard that!” His uncle calls from the hall. “Thin ice boy!” 

Halen and Eddie exchange glances, both wide eyed. “He talking to me or you?” 

Halen shrugs and Eddie tries not to laugh at how innocent he is as he dashes upstairs. Only to find Ziggy covered in your lotion. 

“That’s it. I’m dead.” He sighs. “Your mother is going to kill me.” 

“Okay daddy. I have a plan though.” Ziggy starts.

“…..I might be interested in hearing it.” Eddie mumbles back, Halen wiggling in his arms. 

“We don’t tell mommy. I don’t get spanked and you don’t get killed.” 

“Seems legit. Hop in the shower and I’ll hide the evidence.” And just like that the daddy daughter duo commits a crime. 

By the time you are getting ready for bed he hears you rustling around in the bathroom doing your nightly routine. 

“Hey baby?” He calls, scratching the back of his neck. “I need your help.” 

The plan was to distract you, whether that be through seduction or just talking your ear off he had yet to figure out. 

You come out of the bathroom, raising an eyebrow out to him in confusion as he sits on the bed. “With what?” 

“Allllll of thisssss.” He wiggles his eyebrows, using his hand to gesture up and down his body. 

“What’d you do?” You snap, hands flying to your hips as you glare. 

“What? What do you mean?” 

“You only do that cheesy sexual thing when you are hiding something Edward Munson.” You snap, moving closer. First mistake. 

“No I don’t!” He scoffs. “I’ve never once in my life done that.” 

Yes he had. Once last week when he broke your favorite mug. Twice the week Motley kicked a soccer ball through the back window. 

“Are you accusing me of being a prostitute?” 

“Prostitution is for money. You’re doing it to make sure no one gets in trouble. What’s the word for that?” 

“Protective.” 

“Slut.” He gasps loudly at your words, moving forward to snatch you into his arms. 

“You wanna see what this slut can do?” 

“Yes. Then I wanna know what you did.” You laugh. 

-

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” You sigh, walking in front of Motley as she follows you around the diner floor. 

You were opening this morning, and Motley decided to come with you to try and plead her case before she went to school. 

“Mom please.” She whines. “I wanna go.” 

“Motley. It’s not a good idea.” You repeat, snatching all the ketchup bottles from the table to refill. Honestly you were done with this conversation, and though you understood why Eddie took Motley in the first place you did not want your kids or your husband attached to that man. 

Robert Munson was a plague in memories for your husband and you didn’t want that for him. 

But Motley wanted to take Eddie to go see him on family day. And you were wracking your brain trying to figure out what was going on here. Why was your daughter so obsessed with this situation?

“Be fair!” She snaps. 

“Take it down a notch.” 

“But mom-“ 

“What’s the deal here, Motty?” You sigh, sitting in a booth to start marrying all the ketchup bottles. “If you’re upset about something you should just tell me.” 

“I’m not upset about anything.” 

“Yes. You are.” You respond. “Tell me what’s going on here.” 

“Do you think…. Do you think Dad misses me?” 

“I’m sure he does. He always begs to pick you guys up from school-“ 

“No. I mean….”

“Oh…. Motley I don’t know. Are you missing him?” 

“No. I just wonder if he’s missing me. He’s my dad. He should be right. And if Dads dad can miss him, maybe my father can miss me. You know?” 

You don’t know what to say, and you don’t know how to fix this so maybe you should just give in and see if she can sort some of these emotions out herself.

“I’ll discuss it with Eddie. Okay? Now how about you play hooky and miss your first class for a stack of pancakes?” 

“Okay.” She giggles, and that was a step in the right direction. 

-

Eddie was tense the morning you got ready for family day, not really saying much as you both shuffled around each other before you had to get the kids up. 

You knew he was nervous and stressed and you didn’t know how to help him which was beginning to stress you out. He was doing this for Motley, and you were so grateful for that but you seemed to be pushing too hard. 

So, as he sat on the bench at the end of the bed putting on his boots, you took your chance and wormed your way onto his lap with your legs on either side of his hips. 

He accepts you with little fight, practically melting at your touch and pressing his nose into your collarbone as you hug him. His hands clutch your hips tightly, and you quickly realize he is doing the grounding technique that his therapist recommended. 

“5 things that you can see.” 

“Your dress, the sock under the dresser, the throw blanket you claim is important, my bandana hanging on the back of the door, and your purse by the door.” 

“Good.” You hum out. “4 things you can touch.” 

“You, my jeans, the blanket and your hair.” 

“3 things you can hear.” 

“The fan in the boys’ room, the water in the toilet run, and Wayne shuffling around downstairs.” 

“2 things you can smell?” 

“Your perfume and the febreeze.” He’s less tense now, breathing out easily. 

“Something you can taste?” 

“If you gimme a kiss something tells me that famous cherry chapstick.” He mumbles slowly, nose going up your neck until his lips reach yours. He doesn’t kiss you though, just keeping his lips barely touching your own, breathing into each other. 

“Are you okay to do this?” You whisper.

“I…. I’ve done it once with her already.” 

“This is different and you know it. And I know you’re doing it for Motley because you’re amazing but I just think this is pushing it a bit.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“Eddie.” 

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” He mumbles, finally pressing his lips into your own to kiss you finally. You deepen it instantly, pushing him into the mattress a little from his spot on the bench which makes him smile through the kiss. 

When you reach down to unbuckle his belt he hums out, moving to stop you. “We gotta get the kids ready-“ 

“We got time.” You smile. “And I’m craving it.” 

He couldn’t argue that.

-

Eddie was trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, but he was trying really hard to seem cool. 

This was for Motley, he could do this again for Motley. 

Last time when it was just him and her it was easier. But now, with you and Wayne and Ziggy and the boys. It was going to be too much. Too soon. He really didn’t want his dad knowing all this about his life. 

He also didn’t want all his kids knowing this part of his life, the child of a murderer life. 

Wayne sat next to him in the car and you sat in the back with all the kids. He kept looking back at you through the rear view mirror, lightening little by little each time you smiled at him. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He was going in with his best team. 

But then the Johnsons Center came into view and all he could feel was dread. This was a terrible idea and he would regret it. 

Motley is the first to jump out, holding the card she made in her hand as she waits on the side of the car for everyone else. Eddie had put her hair into two braided plaits and he was thankful she did because now she can’t pull at it to show her nervousness. 

The boys both yell out when you try to help them out after unbuckling them and they climb out themselves, Eddie helps them hop down since the little toddlers couldn’t manage that part themselves and Ziggy jumps out at him with a smile. 

“You ready?” Wayne asks, helping you shuffle the kids together so you can snatch the boys up. Halen giggles, jumping into Wayne’s arms as Ozzy lays his head on your chest and clutches at your shirt. Ziggy and Motley are both holding Eddie’s hands. 

“I’m as ready as I will ever be.” Eddie sighs. “Alright. Let me see everyone.” 

Everyone smiles at him, just like they always do when he asks this, and before he knew it he was leading them all into the building. Helping Ziggy and Motley on the beginning of what they needed to give up and helping them through the scanners. 

Ziggy giggles when the guard takes his hand scanner and checks her, calling it a lightsaber which makes Eddie laugh. 

Motley once again hesitates when giving up her grandmothers ring, but the second it hits the bin the guard gives her a small smile promising to protect it. 

Ozzy and Halen are a bit easier, you have to give up your earrings and Wayne his watch but they were soon ushered into the courtyard where other families all sat together having fun. 

In the center, sitting at a table by himself, sat Alan looking anxious and eyes casting around nervously. The second his eyes land on the family, a smile splits across his face from ear to ear as he stands and fixes the jumpsuit he was wearing. 

He looked nervous, and that made Eddie feel a little easier about everything. 

“Hey guys…” he smiles, when they make it to the table. “I am so glad you could make it.” 

“Hey Alan.” Wayne mutters, and they stare at each other for a second before Alan holds his hand out to shake like a peace offering. 

“Motley, good to see you again angel.” He smiles, holding out his hands for a hug if she wanted. She does, giving him a full hug before sitting down. Ziggy smiles at him, sitting by her sister quickly and Wayne sits with Halen. 

You stand by Eddie, allowing him to lead you a little closer by your lower back. 

“You must be …..” Alan smiles, reaching a hand out to shake. “My son told me about you a couple years ago when he came to see me.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile, and Eddie feels something pinch in his chest. “You know Motley, this one is Ziggy-“

Ziggy goes to bite you when you place your hand on her head, to which you pinch her cheek. “Then we have Halen and Ozzy.”

“You have a little army.” Alan laughs, watching as you sit with Ozzy. Eddie stands awkwardly with the picnic basket Wayne had carried in, Alan moves in for a hug and Eddie is quick to shake his hand before sitting down with his family and allowing Alan to sit as well. 

“They said we could bring food so we did.” He mumbles, opening the basket and beginning to set everything up. 

“Thank you guys! This is great. I was beginning to think you might not…..” Alan blanches, anxiety pouring off him. 

“Sorry. We all got a bit of a late start.” You explain, smiling in Eddie’s direction slyly. 

“I want to know everything. What do you kids do for fun? What’s your favorite animal?” 

“I dance!” Ziggy mumbles, snatching a sandwich Eddie had been trying to pass her. “You wanna see me twirl?”

“I would love to.”

“Maybe after you eat.” Eddie mumbles before she can rush to do it. “Once she finds a way to escape the table she can’t ever sit back down.” 

“Not true!” 

“So true.” Eddie laughs. 

“Kid. You’re an everyday Houdini with dinner tables.” Wayne teases, using his fingers to tickle her side which makes her laugh loudly, pushing his hand away. 

“Grandpa Wayne!” She whines and Alan freezes, keeping a smile glued on his face. Eddie’s side hurts, the scars aching from the bats teeth. 

“She…. They all call him-“ he tries to explain before you’re there to save him. 

“The kids missed their grandma and grandpa from my side and I insisted they call Wayne here Grandpa Wayne.” You explain. 

“You live with them? Isn’t that right?” Alan asks, looking at Wayne. 

“Yes. Little boss pants over here insisted I move in after my hip surgery.” Wayne smiles and you roll your eyes playfullly.

“BIRD.” Halen yells happily, pointing up to the bird flying overhead before bouncing up and down happily and clapping. 

“BAT!” Ozzy calls next, pointing to Eddie’s bat tattoos. 

“How many tattoos you got now boy?” Alan smiles, looking at his son. 

“Oh, Eddie, you should show him your newest one.” Wayne offers. “He’s got the kids' names down his side. It looks great.”

But Eddie blanches, hands shaking as he rubs his side. “Well uh-“ 

He lifts the shirt slowly, showing the tattoo that has all the first letters of their names and their birthdates by them. 

Alan smile falls as he sees his sons side and abdomen, all the scarring there. “Wow….” 

“My dad has cool scars!” Motley explains, tracing along the outer edge of one. 

“What from?” 

“Oh…. Just stuff.” Eddie mumbles out. “We made you some potato salad.” 

As soon as all the plates were full everyone began a natural conversation, Alan asking question after question about the kids. 

And once lunch was done Alan invites the kids to play some game that they had set up in the courtyard. 

“They let anyone with good behavior do this.” He explains as he leads them to the games. 

“Yeah? Family day?” Wayne clarifies. 

“Yeah.” 

“Have you been bad?” Ziggy asks, holding Wayne’s hand as they walk. “Since this is your first family day?” 

“No. I’ve been allowed for a couple years. But I just….. didn’t know if anyone would be interested in coming.” Alan answers truthfully. “You remind me of your grandma.” 

“I do?” Ziggy smiles. 

“Oh yeah. She liked asking questions too. Never stopped.” Alan laughs. “She spent her life wondering new things.” 

“Do I look like her?” 

“Oh, Zigster-“ Eddie starts but Alan is quick to stop him. “Yeah you kinda do kid. You got her bright eyes.” 

Her smile widens and soon enough she was moving to the jump rope game with him close to her. 

“This isn’t going bad.” You mumble, watching the girls with Wayne and Alan. “How you feeling?” 

“Tense. Pain. Awkward.” Eddie blurts, shuffling Halen around in his arms. “I…. This is not what I imagined.” 

“I know.” You mumble, leaning forward to kiss him softly. “But I’m really happy you did.” 

“I…..” he trails off, sitting on the benches with you. 

“I don’t know how to help Motley with this.” You mumble. “But you’re helping her and you need to know that it absolutely means the world to me.” 

“You guys mean the world to me.” He smiles, hand rubbing your knee as he bounces Halen in his lap. “Would you ever…. Allow a supervised visit?” 

“For Alan?” 

“No. For Billy-“ 

“No.” You snap out, body physically turning away from him. 

“I know. I just think she needs closure-“ 

“Shut up.” You snap out, standing quickly to go stand with the rest of your group.  

Eddie sighs out, chest aching. 

- 

The car ride on the way home is silent as all the kids play with the wooden ornaments Alan had made them. Wayne holds the pack of photos you guys had gotten with Alan in his hand and you say between the twins with your arms crossed glaring out the window. 

You hadn’t said a word to him since he asked and he was beginning to think he really fucked uo by bringing it up. 

Dinner passed in silence and by the time you got the kids ready for bed you both split up to get everyone into bed. 

Eddie took the girls, reading them both a bedtime story before taking a moment to pick up the basement lounge area that had been made into their shared playroom. 

By the time he makes it upstairs he moves to see if you’re still with the twins, shocked to find that both of them are completely passed out and their starry night light the only source of light in the room. 

So he shuffles to the room, finding you sitting on the bench with tears streaming down your face that you keep quickly trying to wipe away. 

He shuts the door, moving closer to sit in his knees in front of you. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurt. “I don’t know why I’m crying. This is so silly.” 

“No it’s not.” He mutters, rubbing your thighs. “Nothing that makes you upset is silly.” 

“I just don’t know how to help her with this. I’ve never had to go through it and I hate the thought of him seeing her but she’s gotta have something going on here and I can’t be selfish-“ you begin to rant, taking a deep breath in and moving to hold his hands. 

“We can try a supervised visit to see if it helps her. Or maybe we ask to see what she wants.” Eddie offers. “Or maybe we distract her with a trip to Disneyland.” 

“Shut up!” Your laugh is watery and you slap his shoulder lightly as he lunges up to kiss you. It’s urgent and strong, and you immediately melt into it as his hands slide up your body to keep you pulled close to him. 

“I hate when you’re mad at me.” He murmurs when he pulls away, finger tracing your cheek slowly as he admires you. 

“I wasn’t mad at you.” You mumble, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I just….. it scares me you know?” 

“I know. I also kind of sprung the idea on you.” He answers. You both work in tandem, slowly beginning to undress each other, one piece of clothing at a time as you keep coming in for more kisses. 

“Did you lock the door?” You whisper, and he grunts out, sliding from the bed to make sure the door is locked before dashing back to you. 

-

The diner you had chosen to meet Billy at was extremely crowded. Which is why you had chosen it. 

You sat at a table for 4, with Motley and Ziggy on either side of you as Billy sat across from you. He has an irritated expression, had one the entire time as Motley and Ziggy talk to him about anything and everything they could. 

His answers remained short, and the girls were definitely getting hurt by it. 

“I got the chicken tenders and there was only supposed to be three but I got five!” Motley explains with excitement. 

“Ok.” Billy shrugs, not really caring and taking a bite out of his burger. 

Halfway through the lunch they both decided to just talk to you instead which you were fine with, and once he was done eating he put cash down for his own before kissing their heads and heading out. 

You stayed sitting there, smiling at the girls as the waitress cleared the table. 

“Are you ready for the check?” She asks sweetly. “I’m sure I can get the chef to make you both a free milkshake.” 

She winks as the girls sit up happily and you smile back. “We’re actually waiting on my husband and their brothers. They’ll be here soon.” 

“Yeah, we had lunch with my biological dad. But my dad is coming to pick us up. He went to some really big store that had lots of game stuff.” 

“He plays DnD.” You nod, and the waitress smiles happily. 

“I’ll be right back ladies.” 

10 minutes later there is a round of milkshakes as the twins munch on a plate of fries while Eddie listens to the girls talk about the lunch. 

“I got the chicken tenders and there was supposed to be three but I ended up getting five!” 

“You’re absolutely kidding!” Eddie gasps. “The kitchen must have thought you were awesome.” 

“Must have!” 

“Did you have ketchup or mustard?” 

“Both!”

“Atta girl!” He smiles. “I got you something from the store.” 

He pulls out a small pouch and hands it to her so she can dig through it, pulling out a set of pink dice. “NO WAY!” 

“I want one!” Ziggy whines and Eddie laughs before pulling out a little princess figurine for her. 

“Nerds.” You mumble out which makes him give you a toothy grin. 

- 

“Daddy daddy daddy!” Ziggy yells excitedly, running up to where Eddie sat on the couch with his reading glasses on, focusing on the pages before him as the girl climbs up to get to him. “Guess what!” 

“What?” He smiles, closing the book to turn to watch her. 

She pulls her lip back with a finger to show a gap in her front teeth. 

“You lost a tooth!” Eddie laughs with excitement. “Oh Man! The tooth fairy is gonna come give you money tonight!” 

“I thought she gave chocolate? In the baskets?” 

“No zigster. That’s Easter.” He smiles at her. “The Easter bunny does that. Remember? He pooped all over the house?” 

The ‘poop’ had been brownies crumbled, rolled up and set along the floor to make it look like the bunny had pooped everywhere. The girls thought it was hilarious and Eddie regretted setting it up everytime he had to drag Zeppelin away from the brownies. 

“So she gives money?” 

“Always does.”

“How much?” 

“A dollar.” 

“That's cheap!” 

“Ohhhh be careful little one. She might hear you say that and bring nothing.” 

“She wouldn’t dare.” 

“Oh she would.” 

“What a bitch.” Ziggy sighs out and Eddie tries his hardest not to laugh. 

That night Ziggy gets 50 cents and a cute little note saying “how rude.” 

She was upset. Eddie thought it was hilarious.

- 

(Time change here gadies and lentlemen) 

“Babe! Have you seen my keys?!” Eddie panics from down the stairs, rushing around the house to try and find them as everyone upstairs gets ready for the day. “I can’t find them!” 

“Last I saw they were on the bannister!” You call down the steps and Ziggy dashes down, bangs and all. 

Ziggy was 11 now, and she had gone through a lot of changes. No more pigtails, now she kept her hair down with bangs, and she always had one tiny braid in it that she always tied off with one colored rubber band. Todays was bright green to match her nice little dress for picture day. 

“Hey papa.” She greets, dashing past him to get to the kitchen. “Do we have egos?” 

“Egos? Yeah. Sometimes. Eggos however, your aunt El ate them this weekend.” He explains while searching his bag for the keys. 

“UGH!” His daughter yells, stomping to go get cereal. 

“Hey dad!” Motley smiles, entering the kitchen and moving to kiss his cheek. 

“Hey Metalhead- absolutely not. Go up and change.” He snaps, shaking his head. 

Things had changed with Motley too, and Eddie hated it. Well he loved her but he hated that she had to go through puberty. Why couldn’t she just stay young and adorable forever?!

Gone were the overalls and plaited hair. 

Now she styled her hair in all the new trends and styles, she wore tiny skirts and tiny crop tops. Her nails were always covered with a new color every week and the amount of time Eddie asks her to pick up her stupid sandals has gone too far. 

Not to mention the amount of makeup the girls have in their bathroom downstairs. 

“What?! Dad!” She sighs, already ready to fight for her outfit. Today she had chosen a pair of heeled Mary janes with tights and a really short black skirt. That he didn’t mind, even if he was the slightest bit concerned about the skirt he knew he should be lucky she wore the pantyhose. The shirt she chose however was a no. 

“I can see your midriff!” 

“So?” 

“You raise your hand once and everyone will see your bra!” 

“Again, so?” 

“Motley Marie.” He snaps and she sighs out, stomping off to go change as you enter the kitchen with a smile. 

“Morning handsome.” 

“Babe I need my keys!” He panics, kissing you quickly before rushing past. “I can’t be late for work again!” 

“Why's Motley mad?” You ask him while helping him search. 

“I told her to put on clothes.” 

“Why’s Ziggy mad?” 

“Out of Eggos.” 

“Got it.” 

“Morning!” Halen smiles, jumping down the last 7 stairs which makes you gasp out in fear. 

“Halen, you know I hate when you do that!” 

“Looking for dads keys?” He asks with a shit eating grin that makes you both groan out and rush to the plants left on the banister. 

Lately Halen had been in a bit of a….phase? He liked to steal things. But not actually keep them. No the kid liked to steal and hide things just for the sake of it. His favorite spot to hide things happened to be the plants. 

So you both began digging through the plants, searching for the keys. 

Motley stomps back up the stairs, and Eddie whirls to see what she is wearing. “Better. Thank you.” 

“Whatever.” She grumbles out and moves to grab her bag. 

“Cute sweater. Now take it off.” You smile, watching her freeze. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The top that your dad told you not to wear is under it. You think I’m stupid?”

“UGH! This house is so stupid!” She screams, stomping back down the stairs. Her heels hit the stairs with a thump thump thump each time. 

“I would have never realized.” Eddie mumbles, before you pull out a pair of silver keys. “AHA! My beautiful wife!” 

“Do we have Eggos?” Halen asks, dashing to the kitchen where Ziggy is shoving her face with cereal. 

“No. Stupid.” 

“You’re stupid!” He snaps, moving to grab the box. 

“Those are mine!” Ziggy snaps. “You chose the Frosted Flakes!” 

“Just share!” Eddie sighs. “Your mom and I will go shopping later.” 

“Hey guys.” Ozzy mumbles, coming into the kitchen. 

The boys were 8, and somehow become exact opposites of eachother. Halen kept his hair short and mostly wore flannels and converse. He liked to steal things for whatever reason and was currently hyper fixated on baseball. 

Ozzy liked to keep to the baggy long sleeve shirts and black ripped jeans, he had been wearing out his pair of converse for years now and refused to wear the new ones you and Eddie got him. His hair, pitch black, was extremely curly and reached his mid neck. (I’m thinking like Finn wolfhard hair. You can choose though it’s your kid). 

He was currently obsessed with Eragon, and Nirvana. Both of which Eddie could support. 

Ozzy came in dragging his cello case until you grabbed it from him and set it on the couch. Instead of guitar the kid chose the cello, and Eddie had gotten him a nice black handmade cello. 

“You okay pal?” Eddie asks, watching Ozzy scramble to make toast. 

“Yeah. I stayed up late.” The kid mumbles. 

“Yeah! His reading light kept me up dad!” 

Right on cue Motley stomps back up, wearing a form fitting top that didn’t seem much better but at least she’d be able to raise her hand in class. 

“Better?” 

“Not much but I’ll allow it.” Eddie smiles, leaning to kiss her cheek right as there is a honk out front. “Really? Samantha can’t just come to the door?” 

“It’s not Samantha.” Motley shrugs, grabbing her bag and lip gloss before heading out the door. 

“Wait what?!” Eddie calls, following her out. “Fucking Aaron again.” 

“Dad, don't embarrass me.” She snaps as she gets into the car. 

“Hey man-“ Eddie calls, stopping the door before she can close it on him. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Munson. She’s in good hands.” 

“I don’t want her in any hands!” He snaps out, glaring at the idiot of a kid. 

“Dad!” 

“Okay. Fine. Just be careful-“ the door is shut before he could finish his sentence and they are off. “Oh I hate this feeling of parenthood.” 

“Come on kids. We gotta go!” You call from the door, trying to get them all to the car. Halen dashes for his seat, papers flying out of his backpack that Eddie quickly moves to snatch. 

“Halen? Did you do your homework?” Eddie sighs, seeing most of them blank. 

“Ozzy did!” Halen smiles. “I’ll copy it when we’re there.” 

“That’s not how that works kid.” He warns as Halen buckles up. 

“Are you picking me up after baseball practice?” 

“Yes. I might be a couple minutes late because Ozzy needs to be picked up from orchestra.” Eddie answers, kissing his forehead. 

You load Ozzys cello into the trunk as Eddie kisses Ozzys head and whispers “don’t give your brother the homework.” 

“We both know I will.” Ozzy whispers back before pulling out another book. 

“Hey papa.” Ziggy calls, walking around the car with her painting kit. “Bye papa.” 

“Bye Zig. Good luck with art class today okay?” 

“Good like with Jared.” She smiles, making him smile at the memory of his stupid new mechanic. “Who doesn’t know what a wrench is?” 

“Bye, love you.” You mutter, kissing him quickly before jumping in the car. “Don’t forget Motley has cheer practice tonight, she’ll be home around 8. I’ll be with Ziggy tonight for parent teacher conferences. If she’s a minute late-“ 

“Grounded. Got it.” He smiles, leaning down to get an actual kiss. “Don’t forget I love you.” 

“Never do.” You tease.

-

“I don’t get it.” Samantha mumbles, watching Motley through the schools bathroom mirror with wide eyes. “You’re bailing again?” 

“I just don’t have time.” Motley sighs, fixing her lip gloss. “I have plans.” 

“But we always do friday movie nights.” Sam whines. “Motley-“ 

“There’s a party tonight.” 

“Then I’ll go with you.” 

“You weren’t invited.” Motley laughs in her friends face before taking off the shirt she wore over her favorite top and walking out of the bathroom. 

On the way out she bumps into Vinny, shrinking a bit at the glare he gives her. 

“Munson.” He snaps, shoving past her to get to class. 

“Harrington.” She responds, blanching as he flips her off over his shoulder. 

Vinny or Vince as he likes to go by now, had grown up quite a bit. Gone was Vinny the nerdy boy that only read and never talked to anyone. 

In his place came Vince, the schools valedictorian and the best baseball player they had. He had grown into an extremely attractive man and it didn’t help that he was nearly 6’3. 

The thing was? He hated Motley and her friends. Hated them for being bullies because that’s exactly what all her new friends were. 

“Harrington?” She calls, swiveling to follow him. 

He doesn’t turn, merely keeps walking like he could ignore her. “Hey Harrington!” 

“What do you want?” He snaps out. 

“There’s a party tonight and I wanted to see-“ 

“Motley. Are you serious?” Vince snaps, glaring down at her. “It’s DND night.” 

“So?” 

“Everyone is there for dnd night?” He asks. “It’s tradition.” 

“They won’t even notice that I’m not there-“ 

“You’re dad is never gonna let you go.” 

“He doesn’t have to know.” She shrugs. 

“Whatever. Just….. leave me alone okay? And have your friends leave my brother alone. He already struggles with his speech thing and you guys just make it-“ 

“W-w-w-orse?” She teases, laughing at his brother until his glare deepens. 

“You know what? I heard my dad talking to yours the other day and he said that you were starting to remind him of Billy. I didn’t see it at first.” He sneers. “I see it now.” 

And he’s off again, leaving her in the crowded hallway feeling stupid. 

Part Six HERE

(Do we want more? What do we think?"

(Merry Merry christmas!!)

Taglist:: (lmk if you want to be removed)

@dontcrydaddy @valentine-ger @mariamayhemrsmunson @hippiefairy02 @alyisdead @thehuntresswolf @username199945 @peaches-roses-sins @bl1ssfulbaby @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @avenjames-anderson @nodont1 @bethanyzed @caseyqdilla @zooboomanfu @hazydespair @costellation-hunter @vanessav03 @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @kidd3ath @katzarantos

[lovelyo]

Live in Reality: You Would Not Want a Friend Like Penelope

I can’t with people talking bout Cressida is meaner than Penelope or that Cressida is a bully and Eloise is a bad person for befriending Cressida. The difference is Cressida is upfront with her mean girl attitude. She isn’t two-faced and would let you know upfront that she doesn’t fuck with you, totally opposite from Penelope who would write the muddiest of shit about you behind your back and feel absolutely no remorse, while on top of that gaslighting into believing she’s the victim.

Unless you’re a masochist, who would want a friend who smiles in your face but has secretly been resenting you and your family for years, has been tricking and lying to you for years; the friend has been disrespecting your family behind your back, gaslights you, is jealous of you every waking moment, always singing the same “woe is me, life is unfair” song to you but accuses you of being a bad friend, betrays your trust, thinking that hurting you even is a viable option, throws you under the bus to save their own neck and tries to manipulate it as they were trying to “help” or “save” you.

Anyone with a well-adjusted mind who has a friend or who sees a love one have a friend such as that will immediately take the action of cutting them off, despite any history, despite the memories, we would clearly think that a friend as toxic as that is not a good friend or rather a good person to be around.

So why does the individual who has been dealt with such a friend has to apologize or accept the toxic’s friend past and current bullshit. Does it make sense that that individual who has been treated like that by the toxic friend apologize to the toxic friend?

That’s y’all’ logic when it comes to Eloise and Penelope.

When you holler your chewbacca war cry in defense of Penelope, you are rooting for that toxic friend I have explained earlier knowing damn well that if someone like that was in your life or in the life of someone you deeply care for, you would NOT be associating with them or advise others not to.

But Eloise mustn’t be upset and must accept Pen’s hollow apology despite all the things that she has objectively done because…🤷🏾‍♂️ we’re not allowed to be mad at the plus size character cause she’s plus size, that’s the reason people are mainly giving me.

Who cares about size? A toxic person is A TOXIC PERSON: short, tall, small, curvy, a person’s character isn’t defined or should be given a free pass because of their appearance. That’s what you guys are doing with Penelope and it’s insane dawg 😭. You can’t attack people for focusing on her size when YOU FOCUS ON IT! I hope people noticed that, Penelope defenders always bringing up fatphobia and the girl’s size while the Pen critics don’t mention are size at all.

P.S. Given from the spoilers, Pen apologizes to Eloise about the betrayal and being LW but goes back to the same schtick, talking shit bout her brother so ask yourself how genuine she really was

P.S.S Even Colin thinks what LW did was wicked and unnecessary, especially since in season 2 he said if Marina had told him bout the pregnancy, he would’ve still went with the marriage. Plus his sister got dunked on….but hooray for Penelope getting a HEA and being a part of a family she disparages.

[suzukiblu]

Zero's inner monolog has me rolling. He's constantly two seconds away from ending everyone and the only thing currently stopping him is he kinda wants to see what these idiots try next (and needling the JL is fun even if they do half the work for him)

Then please allow me to gift you with more, friend, lol, 'cuz I love ALL his inner monologue.

“Ask your father,” Black Zero says dryly, folding his arms. Superboy scowls at him. 

“He’s not my fucking dad, Jesus,” he says in exasperation. “I don’t even have a dad, okay? My literal only ‘family’ member is my brother from another cloning tube who fucking hates me.” 

“. . . how do you not have any parents?” Black Zero asks, staring down at the idiot kid in absolute bafflement at the idea. “You’re half my physiological age. You’re half my size.” 

“I don’t need parents,” Superboy snaps defensively, folding his own arms. The gesture looks much more tense than Black Zero knows it did when he did it. “I have a job and royalties and shit. I pay fucking taxes. When was the last time you paid your taxes?” 

“I just collect them,” Black Zero replies, raising an eyebrow at him. “Can’t run a reality without the proper funding, you know how it is.” 

Then he pauses, and . . . wait. 

“‘Royalties’?” he repeats with a frown. 

“Oh–yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have done that,” Superboy says, then shrugs. “I used to do endorsements and stuff. Have some video games, comics, shit like that. I still get royalties from some of it. Which–not relevant here, okay, it’s–” 

“I’m sorry, did you just tell me you were a damn child star superhero?” Black Zero asks incredulously, and Superboy looks offended. 

“Teen idol superhero, fucking thank you,” he snipes. 

Forget that brat who stole the jacket to begin with. Black Zero has officially met the worst possible version of himself. 

“That is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard,” he says. “Stupider than the one of us who worked for Batman. Stupider than having to pronounce ‘Supergrrrl’ with all three ‘r’s in it.” 

“Sorry I had to pay fucking rent, asshole,” Superboy snaps. “We didn’t all take over the world, okay?” 

“I’m going to set this entire reality on fire,” Black Zero mutters under his breath, pushing his glasses up so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have the sense to avoid getting strapped to an atomic bomb, and someone let you sign legally binding paperwork and contracts?” 

“That was your fault!” Superboy protests. “I had to do that because of you!” 

Black Zero dismisses that argument as obviously irrelevant and just rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not even old enough to sign legally binding paperwork,” he says in exasperation. “Who’s your legal guardian?” 

“Uh,” Superboy says, then pauses with a considering frown. “I don’t think I have one? I mean, clones are legally classified as IP, man, not peop–I did that thing where I told you something I shouldn’t again, didn’t I.” 

Black Zero idly considers reality-immolation again. 

Also, what the fuck. Clones are "intellectual property", but Superboy still has to pay taxes? 

Fucking bullshit.

[c0la-queen]

Tord Headcanons | The Stoic One

---

Let's start with his physical appearance!

My Tord has pale skin, since he is from Norway and doesn't get a lot of sun.

His hair is naturally that dark brown color that we see in Classic, but he dyes it the caramel brown color from Legacy- though, sometimes he can be seen with dark brown roots when he needs to touch up the dye.

My Tord has silver eyes, and I often describe them as piercing or being able to see through people. I think his eyes are one of the most unnerving parts of Tord, and makes people uncomfortable.

No facial hair- he shaves it if it starts to get stubbly.

Tord is the second tallest in my timeline, standing at 6'4 (I like my boys inhumanely tall). Edd is the only one taller than him and it pisses Tord off to no end.

I like to think Tord has the most athletic build of the group, being the military oriented one. He's not skinny and he doesn't have painfully unnatural muscles like you'd see in magazines. Think more along the lines of Chris Evans or Sebastian Stan. (Also has the juiciest man tiddies) Tord would alternate between going to the gym in the morning and going on morning runs through the neighborhood. He runs more often during the winter, since he's always thrived in cold weather. If Reader also liked working out or was interested in starting, he'd gladly let them join him. I think he'd even teach them self defense if they asked.

Because I think Tord would have some connection to his cultural roots, my Tord has a small tattoo of Yggdrasil on his collarbone, and an even smaller protection rune on one of his wrists. He has a piercing hole in one of his ears that he sometimes wears a simple black stud in; he got it pierced during his emo phase in high school.

Family life:

Tord is an older brother is one younger sister. He practically raised her until he moved out.

His dad was Red Leader before him and put him through intense training. Turned him into a child soldier. Resents his dad for it all.

Only time he ever argued with his dad is when he tried to give his sister the same training- Tord refused to let him.

Worst thing his dad ever did was make Tord do wilderness survival for 3 nights in a Norwegian forest. He was 12.

A Eurasian Lynx managed to find him, but he got away with only claw marks on his back. He's still got the scars.

He doesn't hate his mother, but he's not particularly close with her. Because his training started from such a young age, he spent most of his childhood around his father and other high ranking soldiers.

Cares a lot about his little sister and travels home to see her once or twice a year.

Now, personality:

My Tord is very apathetic sometimes, but mainly is just kind of calm and chill.

He likes to say that he'd rather be with his machines and inventions than other humans, but that's a bullshit lie and he's just being dramatic

Prefers being quiet, doesn't say a lot unless its under specific circumstances or he has commentary to give. He enjoys listening to Reader ramble endlessly, or just have her in his arms while he silently does some task.

He switched from cigarettes to vapes after a while, since its better than smoking and has more flavors available.

Likes energy drinks more than coffee, enjoys the variety they offer.

Actually pretty good at cooking, he'd cook for himself and his sister when his parents were busy with work.

Way smarter than he looks. If he had to take the ACT, he'd probably get a nearly perfect score.

A STEM girlie. He uses the garage as his workshop and spends most of the day there (not counting weekends).

Absolutely has a motorcycle in the garage. He rides it if he's having a low day and needs to get away. Has a special route that takes him the long way through the city before ending up at the cliff overlooking the neighborhood (the one we see in The End). Takes Reader on that route to cheer her up or clear her head. One time they fell asleep on the cliff and woke up to several calls from Edd, Tom, and Matt, who were all scared shitless.

Never gets cold. If someone comments on it, he says its "nothing compared to Norwegian cold." (The others are all tired of hearing that and roll their eyes)

Despite this, he's not dumb. He knows how to stay warm and how important it is. Will scold Reader for not wearing enough layers.

His music taste is so mixed up and wild that nobody can give it a name.

Probably reads the most out of the four, will never tell you what he's reading.

Gets angry about historical inaccuracies.

Not allowed to play Trivial Pursuit because he knows a bunch of random facts.

"Kill yourself." "This is why we can't have nice things."

Likes Super Smash Brothers and can create ass kicking combos for any character in a couple of rounds.

He works as a mechanical/chemical engineer. Works independently by taking commissions for blueprints and fixing machines for people. He mostly works at home in the garage but very rarely has to go to another location. He prefers to have the client talk to him over the phone or meet him.

Likes Liquid Death Mountain Water.

Smokes cigars occasionally, usually on special events.

Smells like smoky wood and vanilla.

Does some art every so often, but not as often as Edd.

Vibes/Aesthetic:

Red LED lights as the only light source

Night so late the entire house is silent

Sneaking out of the house to get candy and drinks at the gas station

Sleep Token playing on the drive

Anime on his laptop

Making battery acid drinks together

Fucking instead of sleeping

Athletic shorts and hoodies

Thigh high socks

Late night drives

Vape clouds and suckers

Trying to stay quiet

Playlist (Based off my Own Spotify Playlist for Him):

Sleep Token

CORPSE

Hollywood Undead

Twenty One Pilots

Kanye West

Childish Gambino

Eminem

Glass Animals

Rob Zombie