#then he's thinking about his dad and praying for forgiveness for not stopping it and worrying about wHO could get the better of Declan

[clotpolesonly]

Ronan triggered by Declan's injuries

Dream Thieves ch 5 // Dream Thieves ch 12

#ronanedit #declanedit #nialledit #trcedit #Ronan Lynch #Declan Lynch #Niall Lynch #TRC #this one actually kills me okay #he's so flippant about it like he doesn't care that Declan's hurt and he's not concerned about it #then he's thinking about his dad and praying for forgiveness for not stopping it and worrying about wHO could get the better of Declan #the tire iron took dad's face and the ''burglar'' took Declan's and all the boys were made in Niall's image and #yeah sure Ronan #you don't care that someone attacked Declan #i believe you #quote posts

[undead-supernova]

Right Here, Right Now

Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 (TBC)

Masterlist

plot: corroded coffin's eddie munson agrees to an interview for the first time in three years, alongside a new album that is most definitely about you.

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: talks of familial death, depressing lyricism, angst

wc: 4.1k

note: I also wrote all of the lyrics in this chapter and made the images above of the album's cover and tracklist. I feel so proud of how much my hard work is paying off. DON'T USE THESE LYRICS ANYWHERE ELSE THANK YEW

Just one more mile.

You could do it. No, really, you could.

Tour really was coming up in the next six months and you had to build up your stamina now or else you weren’t going to survive. Things really were better now, though. You’d gotten rid of your personal trainer and switched to someone who did not suggest that you stop eating. It seemed like Sophia was a better fit anyways. If anything, she told you to eat more.

So here you were, on your poor attempt at a night run.

And you promised yourself that you wouldn’t think about him and how his album was dropping any day now.

Definitely, definitely not.

It was nearly midnight anyways, a few out from the witching hour but that’s not how it went for you. If anything, you were cursed with the threat of midnight being the worst hour of each day. It was like some switch flicked on and you were a mess of a woman, splayed out in bed and thinking. Furiously scribbling in a notebook as you lost to the thoughts in your head. Curled up in a ball in the shower, the white noise perfect for your never-ending thinking.

And who could forget sitting in your kitchen with a bowl of Kraft mac and cheese. Don’t forget the thinking.

Thinking about Eddie. His voice. The way he was willing to give you more than you deserved without any rhyme or reason. How desperate you felt to reconnect, to apologize profusely and beg for some semblance of forgiveness.

And now you were here, trying to outrun your problems while watching the headlights passing the windowpane.

Tried to stop thinking about how at any moment, Eddie could show up and you’d fall into his arms without any question. You’d tell him it didn’t matter. None of it did. And he’d say he wasn’t mad anymore and that he missed you and then you’d go on living like you once did.

Before you could lose yourself to wishing on headlights, a notification popped up on your phone.

         Spotify exclusive: Listen to Corroded Coffin’s new album now!

Without any warning, you lost your footing on the treadmill and fell backwards. Hit your head on the floor, stunned. Let the pain throb in your head for only a few seconds before you dragged your body upright and clicked on the album.

Your eyes scanned the track list, heart pumping incessantly as a bead of blood rushed down your forehead. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Quickly, you threw yourself into the shower to wash off before grabbing headphones and padding into your walk-in closet. Situated yourself in the back corner, your body fitting snuggly in isolation. 

And as you pressed that green play button, your grief washed over you at every line you called your favorite.

Welcome Home

         “Dad’s disappearing acts and the award-winning smile 

         saying ‘sure, I’ll be comin’ back’

         Well, I guess we’re both suckers for a little hope every once in a while

         And, mom, is that why you stayed? Waited up praying, decaying all alone

         Just so one day, you’d be able to say, ‘Welcome home’.”

Fever

         “How could you ever fight a fever? God dammit, she’s more than a flame

         Got her pinning me down, locked inside her heat wave

         Sweat dripping, flesh gripping, I melt from her gaze

         Just one more round, promise I’ll behave

         Come on, darling, why don’t you set me ablaze?”

The Cost

         “I ruined all the plans that hadn’t been made

         Loving you as the bellbirds erupted in a haunted chorus

         Rosy pink clouds turned into showers of blood and hate

         I’m trying, baby, I’m trying to find a way out for us

         But isn’t that the cost, darling? 

         Isn’t that the price of being with me?”

Tailor-Made

         “We’re the only ones walking through the neighborhood

         Sweetheart, don’t you think I know how to hide?

         I’d never speak it, but I’d buy every house if I could

         Marry you in secret, raise our kids benevolent and kind.”

Rose Petals (Interlude)

         “Take a boy-turned-man, crucifying himself at your altar

         Convince him your devoted infatuation will never falter

         Paint his skies a vibrant pink then turn him into sheet metal

         Leave him bleeding out, fractured, scattered like rose petals.”

As Good As Dead

         “What’s more cliché than a man saying he’d die without your love

         At least if I had an open vein, I’d feel something better than being numb

         ‘There’s no such thing as fate’ my thoughts screamed so fucking loud

         But there was comfort in blind faith, that ill-fated crowd

         Had a grip on your throat. Shit, maybe it always has

         But now that I’m as good as dead, I can’t help my bitter laugh.”

A Mirage of Lovers

         “There sat Elizabeth and Al,

         on the front porch of their first house

         Blind with momentary affection

         And I swear when I looked at you,

         I thought you were a lasting confection

         But I swear there’s a mirage of lovers

         Blurring in its reflection.”

Deluge

         “It’s all there in my head, all in disarray

         A cesspool of memories, a desperation for change

         Fought for my life, thought it was so I could see you

         Mother, I know that you’re not here, I’m still trying to heal

         But please tell me now that love has always been real

         Yet I wonder if you ever believed it yourself."

Hotwire

         “Al loved a nice Hotwire

         Pull ‘em apart, let them fray, twist ‘em till they go insane

         And, yeah, I guess everyone I love is the same.”

Fallen Hero (Interlude)

         “Every time I pick up a pen

         It’s destined to dry out

         And I refuse to go outside, refuse to call my friends

         What’s the point when they’ll never understand?

         I’ll leave myself behind just to have a pinch of hope

         But I come back down from daydreams covered in blood

         Just gotta learn to change, learn to change

         Learn to accept being the fallen hero."

Intangible

         “There’s beauty in the ways of intangibility 

         Like the touch of a woman in blushing gardens far away

         The curve of her hips blooming in shades of futility

         Laughter billowing like smoke lingering in the archway

         And there’s places she will never be able to evade

         A bouquet, a veil, a lover lying await in the shade.”

Out of My Hands

         “If I could hear your knock, brought back by my revery

         Each rap, each tap still committed to my memory

         But that’s up to you, darling, it’s all up to you

         And it’s the end I’m stalling, just for you

         And I love you, baby. I love you

         I hope you know I always will

         Even if it’s out of my hands.”

Wayne

         “There’s a new family in the trailer, I really wish I could believe it

         'Cause once I thought we'd buckle under the weight of all that labor

         No more scrounging up pennies for another first-aid kit

         And you’re not here, Wayne. No, you’re not here.”

Lighter

         “Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

         Let it flicker, sit by the flame from sunrise ’til noon

         Come running back, consider your exile foregone

         I choose you in the low glow of dusk, love you ‘til dawn.”

Makeup starting to smudge, an outrageously expensive crop top and skirt still on, you threw off your pumps and let your aching feet lead you to the kitchen. Your black, white, and neon orange plaid outfit reflected vibrantly off the refrigerator light as you decided instead to make crescent rolls. Why the fuck not? 

You were absolutely exhausted. Sleep hadn’t been an option for you in the last twenty-four hours, what with Corroded Coffin’s album keeping you awake and the promo you’d done all day. When you’d finally arrived back to your small California home, you were irritated and in desperate need of some food.

However, as the oven began to preheat, your jumbled thoughts kept piling on top of one another. The fog was too loud for you, having to rush to your living room to grab one of your many notebooks and pens. Sat at the island and just journaled.

It was hard enough knowing that Eddie had written all of that for you. About you. The disappointment, the self-loathing. The guilt of not feeling good enough. Searching through the past mistakes of his parents to make sense of the way you fell apart. As if that was the inevitable ending to any story he was destined to begin.

You felt sick.

And even though you ate every single crescent roll, your words just sunk into the page. You could’ve sworn a third of the notebook itself was smeared in grease and flakes and the intense shame rising in your chest. It was everything you’d hated about the last six months and more, all the goddamn childish emotions and wails of what was fair and what wasn’t. As if this hadn’t been your decision in the first place.

Enough was enough when you finished your plate.

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself before letting out a sound of frustration. “Distraction. Now.”

Grabbing your laptop, you threw yourself on your couch and logged onto YouTube. Maybe you’d watch a deep dive on an amusement park. Catch up on some commentary. Look up that one video of baby sloths talking that usually had you crying from affection.

But there on the front page was an interview with Corroded Coffin on the new album. There’d already been over a million views despite being posted that morning. Something pooled in your abdomen as you saw the thumbnail, all the members posing together.

And you knew you shouldn’t.

But fuck it, what’s a little more salt to your never-ending wounds?

As you clicked on the video, some interviewer you hadn’t heard of popped up smiling before he spoke.

“Hi, my name is Marcus Sanderson and today I’m interviewing one of the most successful metal bands in recent history, Corroded Coffin. They have been hitting commercial success lately, after their incredible album, Fire Shroud, held electronic influences which have begun to redefine and evolve the genre for the modern age.

"Their most recent album, Elizabeth & Al, has only propelled them forward. I was given the rare opportunity to talk to Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie about not only their writing and producing process, but their personal lives. 

“First, we’ll open up with a cover of one of the band’s favorite songs of all time, ‘Solitude’ by Black Sabbath.”

It cut to the band and you couldn’t help a frustrated whine leaving your mouth at seeing him again. And, Jesus Christ, Eddie was fit like a daydream, donning a black Guns N’ Roses t-shirt with dark jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt tied at the waist. A shiny leather jacket, some custom-made Converse with Corroded Coffin across the bottom. Rings and bracelets galore, an obsidian choker hanging low on his neck. Black eyeliner that had wings along his lower lash line. 

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so fucking weak for him.

He stood without his guitar for once, his full attention on his singing. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie were all decked out too, makeup mirroring Eddie’s. All looking refreshed and well-rested. You noticed there was someone else there in the background playing the flute and as they started the song with a gentle solo, it sounded ethereal.

         “My name, it means nothing. My fortune is less

         My future is shrouded in dark wilderness.”

Eddie avoided the camera, eyes darting around the room. You could see his fingers shaking, white-knuckled around the microphone despite the stability of the stand. 

         “Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on

         Everything I possessed, now they are gone

         They are gone.”

Absentmindedly chewing on your lip, you couldn't help but let it sink in. This wasn't just the band's favorite Black Sabbath song—this was Eddie's. He'd told you how the song ripped him apart. How he'd rather die than to ever relate to it personally.

         “Oh, where can I go to and what can I do?

         Nothing can please me, only thoughts are of you

         You just left when I begged you to stay.”

He leaned back as he began to change the notes of the lyrics, his voice building into a belt. Like it was a wail, like he was the most furious man alive.

         “I’ve not stopped crying since you went away

         You went away…” 

The instrumental sounded, the flute having its own solo. Extending the moment, extending the devastation that was demolishing your soul.

Eddie was crying now, wiping the corners of his eyes in the background. Smearing his eyeliner like he didn't care, nose tinged pink through the makeup. And when he came back to the mic, you could see the pain sitting in his eyes. All glassy, all excruciatingly fragile.

         “The world is a lonely place, you’re on your own

         Guess I will go home, sit down and mourn

         Crying and thinking is all that I do

         Memories I have remind me of you

         Of you.”

The footage blurred, fading before cutting to Eddie sitting alone in a chair with the interviewer opposite him. Like they were in a house, all casual and at ease.

“We’re starting off by talking to the front man, Eddie Munson,” Marcus said to the camera, smiling before turning his attention back to Eddie. “It’s nice to see you, man. You look great.”

Eddie chuckled. “Great to be back.”

Marcus nodded. “That cover of ‘Solitude’ was incredible, by the way.”

You could see some color flood into Eddie’s cheeks. “Ah, thanks. Thank you.”

“Do you feel like you’ve been in a period of solitude?”

“Uh, to be honest, kinda. I know people are, like, freaking out just ‘cause I haven’t been in public.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Just making sure I’m focused on the work,” He gestured to himself before mimicking a pushing motion “and not on the external stuff, you know?”

“As we all should. Would you tell me a bit about your new album? Personally, I’m curious as to why you specifically named it Elizabeth & Al.”

“Yeah, uh, those are my parents’ names. My mom passed away when I was a kid and my dad…well, he wasn’t the best. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about what happens when two people who love each other just end up falling apart. Like, you just feel like you’re as good as dead, you know? And I wondered if my parents had that sort of crash and burn before she died.

“I don’t talk about it much, but my dad had a lot of issues with addiction and gambling and crime after my mom died. I didn’t grow up with the generic parent bleep. It was more like I was his friend than a son and sometimes I was a business partner. And, I don’t know, I grew up thinking that love could’ve been so simple if he gave just a little bit of effort. But I still thought he and my mom had a simple love.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, no. My dad was never really good at maintaining, like, any kind of control. And it’s so weird ‘cause all he ever did was try to have control over things. But it was self-sabotage, I think. He was never in control over his life. It felt so predestined.”

“What about your mom?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I think she just wanted love. Like, grasping for that shred of love that he provided every once in a while. ‘Cause it’s not like my dad was incapable of love. Just incapable of giving her everything. Maybe I’m projecting now, but you know what I mean.”

“So, is this album from the perspective of your parents?”

“Not exactly,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “They’re kinda just the reflection, you know? Like what I say on ‘A Mirage of Lovers’. Our parents end up being a kind of mirror we hold up to ourselves. And I think it’s up to us to decide if we’ll continue that cycle or not—especially in the face of heartbreak and loss. ‘Cause you can easily sit there and accuse yourself of being like your father or your mother. But ultimately, you’re just you. You’re not your parents.”

“And you wrote all of this within the last six months, correct?”

“Yeah, it was weird. Like, I just couldn’t stop writing. I was in such a dark place and the only thing I did was sit and write. And the band is so bleeping incredible. I showed them what I was thinking, and they were super, super receptive to it. And we got to work and got it done faster than anything else we’ve made.”

Marcus smiled, something genuine and real, shaking his head in disbelief. “That timeline really does shock me, just because it’s so seamless. There’s all these tiny details and every song just flows into one another.”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot. We kinda thought that having all the songs connect was sorta like, um, a stream of consciousness, essentially.” He started gesturing with his hands and you knew he was getting more comfortable. It almost made you smile. “Like, these thoughts all run together in a big loop. Like having one of those corkboards with all the evidence and red strings, you know? All of it just ends up running together and there’s no concrete answer. It just is.

“And, man. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie are just the best. They know me better than almost anyone and they seemed to automatically get what they needed to do. Just, like, boom, boom, boom. One after the other, we just got everything right. No one else helped produce this album and I think it shows just how much we’ve learned and evolved over our careers.” 

You felt something freeze inside you when the interviewer mentioned your name.

Eddie tried his best to seem unaffected, but you knew he was starting to squirm. You could see the top of his knee as it bounced.

“Are you two still together?” Marcus asked. “What’s the story there?”

Eddie’s eyes wandered the room, probably trying to calculate the best way to go. You selfishly wanted him to say nothing about the breakup, to refuse to confirm that it was truly over. 

He cleared his throat before scratching his temple. 

“My relationship with her is private and just between us. It always has. But I guess since I finally have a chance to say whatever I want to say, I want to make it very clear that the way the media has treated her has been just disgusting and unwarranted. She is not some plastic, shiny doll for everyone to point and laugh at."

Eddie then straightened his posture as he looked straight into the camera. "Oh, and let me be clear. If you’re sitting there talking about her bleeping body, then you are a piece of bleeping bleep and I hope you burn in hell.”  

Just like that, Marcus Sanderson moved on, the shot cutting away to a shot of the rest of the band sitting on a couch. But you weren’t listening anymore. Your head was swirling with a concoction of disbelief and epiphanies. Something…clicked.

Because you’d never had a partner mention you on a public scale. Never had a partner willing to scream your love from the top of the world and still retain privacy. Never had someone so willing to defend you despite your faults. Despite your arguments and downfalls.

And you were realizing that you…had done none of that for Eddie.

You’d sat there, in a dreamy haze because Eddie gave you everything he had. But had you really done any of those things back? Had you given him an ounce of what he gave you? 

You thought back to the AMAs, when you walked around your answers. Nearly yelled at him for standing up for you. Dropped his hand when he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Hell, you even broke up with him because of what other people said. He thought you wanted nothing from him, that you weren’t interested anymore. 

You never even said you loved him to his face.

You treated him exactly the way all your past partners treated you.

Eddie Munson had given you his world and you’d given him a fraction.

“I fucked up,” you whispered before you really processed what was happening. “I FUCKED UP!” you screeched, scrambling to stand up and check your phone. 

1:13am.

Immediately dropped it, watching it slide under the couch.

“FUCK!” you screamed again.

Dropping to your knees and enduring the carpet burn, you reached down and felt around for your phone. But you froze as you felt something else, something smaller in size. Pulled it out, recognizing Eddie’s lighter immediately. 

You flicked the lighter on, only encountering sparks the first two times. But when you watched it transform into a flame, something in your chest began to ache. It was the kindling of a once-wet fireplace, the first stroke of fire you’d felt in months. Teardrops fell freely down your chest as you found the will to fight.

Fight for what you knew you could never live without.

Fight for Eddie.

Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

Come running back, consider your exile foregone

Without any thought, you stuffed it into your top, found your phone, and popped up to search for some socks. Barely registered the color before yanking them on. You didn’t care how dressed up you were or how oily your face felt. How exhausted your body was or the residue of a crescent roll sticking to the side of your mouth.

You had to get to wherever Eddie was, and you had to get there now. If you didn’t talk to him tonight, you didn’t know if you’d make it to daylight.

But where was he?

The thought made you pause, hands shaking as you thought.

And before the panic could completely consume you, you called the one person who seemed to know everything.

“Woah, hello there.”

“Jeff.” 

“Hey, long time no see. Where you been?”

“Jeff, I’m sorry, but I really need you to tell me if Eddie is in California right now.”

“Uh, yeah, he is.” You tugged your white Keds on, breathing a sigh of relief. “He’s been holed up in his place for the last few days. Why?”

“I just need to talk to him,” you said, nearly out of breath as you started sprinting to the garage. “I need to talk to him.”

“Ever thought about calling?”

“Nope.”

Jeff’s laughter rang through the receiver. “You’re crazy, girl. I’ll give you that one.” A huff left your nose as you climbed into your car. “You gonna tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Finally.”

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, dreading any answer he’d give.

“Not at all. Just don’t leave him hanging this time, okay? He hasn’t been okay in a really long time.”

“Neither have I. I’m hoping to fix this and let it stay fixed.”

“Go get your man.”

As the garage door lifted, you noticed the pouring rain.

Of course it started fucking storming within the last hour and a half you’d been home. Of fucking course.

“Bye, Jeff,” you said quickly.

“Bye, girl!”

As you filed out of your driveway, a black SUV was already pulling out behind you. The protection was part of the job. You knew this. But sometimes, you just wanted to tell Scott that you had shit to do on your own.

But there was no time for this.

You just continued to drive, letting the soft hum of “The Long And Winding Road” by The Beatles lead you right back to the very place you knew you belonged.

“Scott,” James acknowledged.

“James.”

It felt like a showdown, Scott stepping in front of you at the gates. As soon as you’d arrived, you’d been prevented from pulling into the driveway. And it was James who’d crossed his arms over his dauntingly ripped chest, staring you down like you’d committed a crime.

You couldn’t blame him.

“What’s the situation?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I need to talk to Eddie.”

“It’s two in the morning. Kid finally fell asleep for once.”

“Let her in, James,” Scott said. “They’re people. Just let them figure it out on their own without us.”

“I really want to fix this,” you explained, earning a lifted eyebrow from James. “He’s everything to me and I know I screwed up. I know that. But I want to at least try to mend this. I’m a fucking idiot. Just…please.” Your eyes began to water. “Please let me try.”

James gave you a hard stare for what felt like ten minutes. Like he was assessing the risk. 

But then he opened the gate, stepping to the side. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, rushing past him to the door.

You knocked quite rapidly, your heartbeat matching the pace. Heard it pulse in your ears. Teetered on each foot as the adrenaline continued to catapult you further into madness. Waiting and waiting and waiting until— 

There he was, barely visible in the glow of the front porch light, eyes squinting. Messy curls frizzing, wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. No accessories, no socks on his feet.

It seemed like he finally registered it was you when he straightened his posture. Eddie gazed down at your body and back up again, eyes widening with every passing second. 

“Hey,” you finally whispered.

“Hey.”

bless @strangergraphics for always having the sickest dividers.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x you #modern!Eddie x you #boyfriend!Eddie x reader

[ro55ocorsa]

Worship (noun):

1. the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for a deity.

2. great admiration or devotion shown towards a person or principle.

I have a lot of thoughts about Carlos Sainz Jr and it's about time i shared them. I'm trying to write a fanfic but i'm finding it difficult to articulate my ideas, this was is test run of sorts to see if I can communicate a message in a way that makes sense. Enjoy. Credits under the cut.

‘Hope is the biggest of our foolish things’ -Alfred de Vingy // Mark Thompson for Getty Images // Carlos Sainz believes he deserves F1 seat // ‘To wish was to hope and to hope was to expect’ -Jane Austen // Carlos Sainz’s last race with Toro Rosso // ‘Expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack’ -Brandon Sanderson // Sky Sports // Marina And The Diamonds, Oh No! // It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story’ -Patrick Rothfuss // Medium // An ode to my father, the matador // ‘Maybe if you sleep where another person sleeps and do what that person does, then eventually you’ll start turning into that person’ -Jack Cheng // Ferrari, one name two destinies // Jos and Carlos Sr on their sons’ rookie seasons // ‘Christianity is a religion built around a father who does not rescue his son. It is the story of a son whose father is a ghost’ -Terrance Hayes // Carlos Sainz poses with his father // Jos and Carlos Sr on their sons’ rookie seasons // ‘Perhaps it’s impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be’ -Orson Scott Card // Sky Sports // Junior status; Sharing dad’s name a mixed bag // ‘Who did I think we were. Who did I think I could make you. This is the oldest mistake, to confuse wanting with magic.’ -Marty McConnell Emily Kagan Trenchard // Sainz thrilled with first podium after Hamilton penalty // The Crane Wives, The Moon Will Sing // ‘If you spent your life concentrating on what everyone else thought of you, would you forget who you really were? What if the face you showed the world turned out to be a mask... with nothing beneath it?’ -Jodi Picoult // Top Gear // Carlos Sainz: the boy who became a man // Motorsport.com // Mikky Ekko, Who Are You Really? // ‘Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it’s going to kill us’ -Donna Tartt // RacingNews365 // Max Verstappen tells Carlos Sainz ‘I felt sorry for you’ // Racefans // Carlos Sainz has openly discussed his contract regulations // CNN // Sainz wins thrilling Singapore GP // ‘Who wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite could you possibly fail to answer?’ -Louise Glück // Sky Sports // Carlos Sainz Sr Wikipedia // 'Do you still believe myths can save you? Foolish creature. Let me be clear: every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered' -Tory Adkisson // Sydney Morning Herald // Planet F1 // Luvbug, Icarus // ‘Sometimes I prayed so hard for God to materialize at the foot of my bed it would start to happen; then I’d beg it to stop, and it would.’ -Marie Howe, // ‘Click here to be saved’, unable to find original author // ‘God’s favorite follower’ by Tumblr user quiet-plaything // ‘God is fucking with my oblivion. If he wants forgiveness, he shouldn’t have given us memory’ -Vi Khi Nao //  ‘What you have to understand, is your father was your model for God’ -Chcuk Palahniuk // John Mayer, In The Blood // ScuderiaFans //

#f1 #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz sr #max verstappen #f1 fanart #f1blr #f1 fandom #web weave #webweave #webweaving #god mention

[phxntomsdusk]

One number away - Baseball!Wilbur x GN!Reader

summary: he simply couldn’t bring himself to call you up after your break up, until he gave in and made up for everything he said

warnings: alcohol mention, self loathing, heavy angst-, fluff/comfort at the end, kissing in the rain <3

tags: @ax-y10 , @joviepog , @pheliiaa , @idontreallyexistyet , @rqvii , @vibestillaxxx , @ivvees-blog , @average-vibe , @lillylvjy , @haunted-headset (ask to be added!)

word count: 850

Ever since the two of you broke up, Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to do much. He hated himself for ending your relationship, he didn’t even know why he said everything he had said. He knew it was stupid, he knew he didn’t mean it.

Were you doing the same things that he was? Were you trying to avoid calling him too? Are you sitting at home all alone trying to fall asleep? Are you staring a hole through your phone praying that it rings? Are you watching a movie that you've seen a thousand times? Or maybe playing some Combs, getting lost in your favorite lines.

If you were anything like him, you were doing everything you could to ignore the constant thoughts about wanting to call, wanting to text, wanting to hear each other's voices. That’s all he truly wanted anymore; just to hear your voice. Hear you say his name, say you love him and that you forgive him.

He was truly one number away from calling you, he’d always catch himself just before he’d dial up your phone. He’d stop himself and think to himself for a solid few minutes. Why was he like this? He practically lied when he said he was leaving and never coming back.

He swore you were everywhere he went. He didn’t know if it was the small shots of whiskey he stole from his dad, or if it was the midnight rain that fogged up his windows, or maybe he truly just missed you that much. In his head he’d dial you up, thinking of what he was going to say, pretending he knew how your conversation would play out.

No matter how many times he’d drive to an empty parking lot late at night, trying to drown out the noise in his head with music, he always thought back to you. What were you doing? Were you stuck at a red light, doing the same thing he was? Were you replacing the station, replacing your guy's favorite song? God, how dumb was he? How could he break up with you so easily?

This had been going on for a month now, and he simply didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, he was dying inside! He stared at your contact, sighing as he finally pressed the call button and held the phone up to his ear. He leaned back in his seat, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. Would you even pick up? Were you gonna say anything?

“Hello?” Your voice rang through the phone, pulling him out of his thoughts as he stared out his front window in disbelief. “Hey! Jesus, I’m surprised you picked up.” He chuckled awkwardly, biting his bottom lip as he listened closely to the sounds of your shaky breathing.

“Why’d you call?” You spoke quietly, your words ringing through his head as he thought to himself. Without really thinking he started up his car again, slowly backing out of the parking lot and began the short drive towards your neighborhood.

“I said I was through, but listen, I’m dying inside. I lied when I said I’m leaving and never coming back. I was an idiot for breaking up with you. I literally cannot stop thinking about you, it took everything not to call you.” He was rambling, not even bothering to let you speak as he focused on the road in front of him, the rain being heard through his side of the phone.

“Wil, where are you heading?” You slowly stood up from your spot in bed, making your way downstairs and looked out your living room window, seeing his headlights pulling into your driveway. “Baby, please come outside.” His words were a quiet plead, staring at your house, meeting your gaze through the darkness and rain.

You were quick to hang up, watching as he began to exit his car, to which you exited your front door. He was already getting soaked from just stepping into your yard, and before he could even begin to walk up, you met him halfway.

The rain caused your hair to stick to your face, forcing you to brush it away before leaning up and connecting your lips to his. You had truly missed this feeling, the way his head dipped down and kissed you back, his hands holding your sides so delicately.

He could feel his heart racing, his face heating up, and the warmth of your lips against his helping him ignore the freezing cold rain and wind. He didn’t want this moment to end. After a few moments the two of you parted, with you speaking up first.

“You really should have called sooner.” You smiled slightly at him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulled him into a very much needed hug. His own hand gently ran up and down your back, causing your soaked shirt to stick to your skin. “I was only one number away.” He whispered quietly in your ear, holding you close as he buried his head in your neck.

#phxntomsdusk #phxntoms fics #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot fluff #baseball!wilbur

[spidori]

Doctor Danny Fenton: On The Run

Danny knew he was on borrowed time.

Sure, he was harder for Clockwork to find than most- something about it being harder to look for an acausal nexus than a causal one, and the medallion fused into his core severing him from standard causal flow, Dan had explained it to him once, before he... no! Focus Danny! You don't know how long you have until he finds you!

Dragging himself out of his dissociation, Danny took stock. He still had the Infinimap in one hand; it was still green and dripping from something he couldn't afford to think about right now. Where and when had the Infinimap interpreted his shout of "a way to run away" as asking to travel to?

"Dann'O! You're just in time to see our newest upgrades to the speeder!"

"Uhhh... You made it look like a Volkswagen beetle?”

"Oh, Sweetie, no. See!" his mom said, opening up a control panel and poking around, then stepping away from what was now a cargo van.

"Your father and I finally figured out how to fuse ectoplasm with metals to make ecto-alloy! We rebuilt the speeder from it and added a camouflage circuit. Now it can change shape into whatever will blend into the surrounding environment for any ghost hunting scenario."

"And the best part is, it even gives off an ecto-signature! Those spooks won't know what hit 'em when you ambush 'em from this one Mads!"

A transforming vehicle with its own ecto-signature to hide inside? Yeah, that might work, even though Danny remembered the camouflage feature had been a short-lived modification because of how often it would get stuck and have to be put through a hard-reset to get it changing again. And judging by the way the Infinimap was subtly tugging towards the improved speeder that's exactly what it brought him here for.

"Mom, Dad, whatever happens next, I love you, and I'm sorry."

"Danny, sweetie, is something wrong?"

"More than I have time to explain, mom. Look, if you see Jazz... If this timeline... Just, tell Jazz I love her too, ok?"

"Dann'o, you're scaring us."

"I know. I'm sorry. Hopefully you'll have the chance to be able to forgive me for this. Going Ghost!"

Ok. He had made it into the speeder. The new metal wasn't phase-proof, there were pros and cons to that, ones he would consider later if he made it that far. At least the interior was pretty much unchanged, so he'd been able to get the speeder started before he'd heard the sound of a clock tolling and his parents' banging on the door had suddenly stopped.

He'd gunned it into the portal quickly enough to get into the relative safety of the zone before its stop sign frame and hazard pattern doors dissolved into obliterated nothingness along with everything else he had been able to see, or sense, of his home dimension...

Something else to be stuffed in the trauma box to be unpacked never if he was ever able to stop running 'later,' something to unpack 'later.'

The tugging in his hand was getting stronger, so at least he was probably heading in roughly the right direction.

He tried veering a little to the right to see if he could get a better sense for the direction the map was tugging, only for its pull to remain unchanged.

Confused, Danny glanced down to see it was actually tugging towards the dashboard.

Or rather, the ectoplasm- all that remained of Dani... 'LATER!'- which coated it was tugging towards the dashboard.

Desperately hoping this meant there might be something of his favorite halfa left to save, Danny pressed the coated map to the dashboard, and prayed.

Within seconds, the map was gone, absorbed into the speeder. Then things got even weirder.

Weirder than the group of ancients putting aside their many feuds to team up on him had been.

Stranger than those ancients somehow getting the Observants on their side.

More out of the blue than the Observants using their binding vow with Clockwork to force him to try to eliminate any timelines with Danny in them, as well as anyone who was even part Danny.

It had been a hell of a day.

And now the speeder had apparently grown absolutely gigantic after absorbing the Infinimap if the anachrofuturistic room Danny suddenly found himself in was anything to go by.

And according to the view screens it was generating a relativistic time, space, and dimensional tunnel?

Oh Lord. Danny was going to have quite the time explaining this one to his parents if he managed to undo enough of this to have a timeline to return to.

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

The tunnel let out in a universe with low-to-minimal ambient ectoplasm according to the external sensor arrays.

That phrasing! That was Exactly how Clockwork had phrased it the last time Danny had talked with him as 'Clockwork'; after the Observants took control of him with their vow he had called himself Chrona, which was the first thing which clued Danny in that something was wrong.

What was it Clockwork had told him?

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

"Local ambient ectoplasm levels are an important consideration for stronger ghosts, Danny. Your perception is skewed by the limits of your experiences, as well as your unique biology, but Amity park and the Infinite Realms as a whole are essentially the top of the scale for ambient ectoplasm levels.

Normally, ectoplasm is a renewable, but much more finite resource. A sufficiently powerful ghost can easily consume all that is available in an area with a normal level before they are able to accomplish anything worth the effort if they aren't extremely frugal with their use of power. Normally, it makes any plans which would involve other realms simply not worth the effort and energy expenditure involved, especially with the additional up-front cost of breaching the veil.

There are even locations with low-to-minimal ambient ectoplasm, which makes them practically immune to ghostly influence. Only the very weakest of shades, ones who require next to no ectoplasm to maintain their current state of existence, can naturally persist in such places. Well, them, and extremely rare exceptions such as Halfa's, whose unique state of existence allows them to generate nearly all of the ectoplasm required to sustain their ghostly half. Any other ghosts would have to gather all of the ectoplasm they would need before going to any such spot, like how the astronauts you love so much need to bring everything for survival with them into deep space.

Actually, the deep space metaphor is particularly apt, as there are whole dimensions with far lower levels of ectoplasm than the one you call home.

Should you ever find yourself able to indulge that space obsession of yours, that would be a good place to do it. Most ghosts would be unable to follow you there, and even those who technically could would have great difficulty sustaining themselves once they arived."

"Geez, Gramps, you're feeling talkative today. Usually I can't get anything nearly this direct out of you."

"It will be important for you to understand your options, my young halfa. Speaking of which, keep in mind that your specific nature is vital to your ability to so easily sustain yourself in such environments. Even other halfas will have much more difficulty surviving in the lowest ecto-level locations as a result of their less balanced compositions. I know your young mirror's obsession also involves exploration, but she would require near constant fulfillment of her obsessions to have a hope of generating enough to get by without supplementation for you or another living being with a similar drive to seek new experiences. Mr. Masters would be better off due to his greater degree of human biology, but would also be hindered by the less complete connection to his ghost side. He would likely find transformation essentially impossible outside of survival scenarios- though you yourself probably would as well- and even his human form would experience side-effects like pounding headaches, or the constant sound of his heart pounding in his ears like a drum as it was pushed to maintain his starving ghostly side."

"I'm sure Dani and I could manage. And if we couldn't, we could always call you to pick us up."

"Untrue, actually. Any location with low enough levels to cause young Danielle to suffer would also be extremely difficult for me to reach. Such low levels could require anywhere from days to centuries in order to push enough ectoplasm through the veil to form a link, possibly more if an entity- such as an injured halfa- or anomaly- such as a rift of any kind- on the other side is draining whatever bleeds through. Your own presence may act to shorten that time somewhat if you can generate enough ectoplasm on site, but even then I would have to find you first. My abilities as an ectoplasmic entity rely wholly on manipulation of ectoplasm, and that includes my near omniscience. Should you ever find yourself in a location with sufficiently low ectoplasm, I would have a great deal of difficulty locating you; the link between our cores would mean that I would always be able to locate you eventually, but you would need to stay in one place for quite a while, which would rather defeat the purpose of emergency rescue."

"So if I ever need to hide from you because I actually manage to pull a prank on you which you don't see coming, all I have to do is find and then literally flee to one of a very select subset of alternate dimensions?"

"Pretty much. Although if you're hiding from me you would want to actively muddy the waters as well."

"Setting aside that I don't think I'd ever want to hide from you, Gramps, muddy the waters?"

"I'm a conceptual entity, Danny. I anchor to that concept in every single reality in which it exists. If the concept of time is sufficiently redirected to something or someone else to any degree, whatever portion has been redirected is therefore unavailable for me to latch onto. The same idea applies to Nocturn not being able to enter the DC Dimension because of their Dream of the Endless. Meanwhile, Pandora could enter almost at a whim if not for her guard duties, because that universe associates hope with her almost directly. In my case, anything strongly associated with the flow and concept of time could hinder me, while spreading my own name would allow me a greater share of any ectoplasm generated by the dimension.

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

Ok.

Danny could work with this.

He would have to keep traveling so that Clockwork- no, it was Chrona now- couldn't lock onto him or Dani-fused-to-the-dimensionally-traveling-speeder (He would have to workshop that).

If possible, he would also have to find a way to make a myth associated with time in an abnormal manner; the question was how to do that?

And he would need to do all of this while expending as little of his ectoplasm as possible, and probably supplementing Dani's whenever he could if she was ever going to have any chance of reconstituting.

He could definitely work with this; he refused to accept otherwise.

Maybe his parents had left some things he could use in the speeder before they were- 'Later!'

Hmm... No tools lying around... There was the weapons locker, but he should probably use whatever was in those ecto-batteries immediately so they wouldn't act as some kind of concentrated-ecto-homing-beacon. Maybe they could help Dani heal?

As he brought the disconnected batteries to the console in the center of the room, he saw it. There, sticking out of one of the panels which would probably have originally been the cup-holder in the center console before everything was transformed, was his dad's favorite 'screwdriver.' Not that it was even remotely recognizable as a screwdriver anymore; his dad had modified it so many times that it looked more like a futuristic laser pointer now. It had become his favorite hobby project before he was- 'LATER!'

He recognized this one as the version which required next to no ectoplasm to work, but as a trade-off had been completely unable to interact with wood for some reason. Something about still partially living matter and destructive interference with foreign emotional resonance as a naturally evolving survival mechanism in- Ramble 'later', focus on surviving now.

And Danny was actually starting to feel like he could find a way to survive with what he had. It was like his dad had always said about the screwdriver.

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

"See how many things it can do now, Dann'O! If I had tried to turn it into this version from the start it never would have worked; I would have gotten frustrated and had to move onto some other project for the sake of my sanity, and our house's walls. But since I took it one small change at a time, look at what I've been able to turn it into.

Incremental change, son! It's how any real change happens. If you want to accomplish something big, you try to choose the things which you think will lead towards wherever you want to end up, especially when they won't get you all the way there, big easy changes like that almost never stick for one reason or another. Over time those small steps add up, and you end up somewhere a lot better than where you started. So, what do you think you can do to apply that to working on your grades?"

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

Yeah, Danny could start to do something with what he had. He was still half alive, and could keep himself that way as long as he never stopped running long enough for Chrona to find and catch up to him. He had a Time and Dimensional and Relativistic Space ship (still not quite right, but better) with Dani fused into it to help him do just that. And he had his dad's screwdriver and advice.

So where should he start?

Well, if he wanted to build a myth, and to fulfill his obsessions wherever possible, protecting people while exploring all of time and space was probably as good a way as any. A time-traveling madman with an ever-changing camouflaged space-ship and a 'screwdriver', just passing through, helping out, was sure to get some attention.

It just needed a name to really give people something to latch onto.

He had just gotten his doctorate in engineering before everything went to hell, but as much as he'd like to use Dr. Fenton, that was just laying down a trail and begging Chrona to follow. His real name would probably have to be a closely guarded secret; the title was good though, so instead, he would just call himself

The Doctor.

Now, where should he run to next?

#danny phantom #tw major character death #tw light gore #TW light body horror #All the death is off screen #but theyre still dead so be warned #dp x doctor who #doctor who

[for-some-reason-i-can-hold-light]

(story telling again. Get ready people)

Immediately everyone was absorbed in the fighting. There was nothing else to think about. [Redacted] hadn’t realized he would remember just how using a sword felt, because they hadn’t done so in a while. But they moved fast, and being able to blind your opponent definitely helps in winning a fight.

Across the field, Somino was also holding their own quite well, even with a busted hand. They’d definitely practiced, and the sharp point of their spear worked wonders that their bat wouldn’t have been able too in this scenario.

Rizu and Asa were also holding their own well, staying higher up and moving constantly. Shockingly, Rizu has deadly aim, and Asa wasn’t a particularly bad shot either.

But in this kind of scenario, when one of you is the target, and intended only to be incapacitated and not killed, they’ll do anything to distract you. And they knew he’d focus on anything that happened to one of their kids.

He saw a grunt level their weapon towards Somino. Their back was turned and they had no clue of what was behind them, and Rizu and Asa were too far to see it.

He didn’t even think. They just moved. It had lost four others dear to them from its own inaction, and he would not let it happen again. Nobody else would be lost because they didn’t move fast enough, or do something to stop it, and it damn well would never happen to his kid.

Maybe before the calamity he would have been afraid, but he’d faced death once before, and knowing the others were there waiting for them, it wasn’t so scary to think about. Even so, they said a small prayer to Ludeius. He may not typically be one to pray to their species guardian deity, but in this case he wanted just that little bit of relief.

He just hoped Somino would forgive them.

When he pushed them behind him, he saw the look on their face. They knew something was up, but it wasn’t until it actually happened that they understood. (Tw: not super well drawn explosion)

Gods it hurt. He’d expected it, but he still wasn’t ready for it. Just for a second he stood, wing still spread in front of Somino, and he heard that sharp inhale of panic from them.

But then they were falling to the ground, vision going blurry, and all they heard was Niko screaming something at him.

“DAD?!”

And the glowing feather drifted to the ground alongside him.

Five glowing feathers on the ground.

#os game rp #[redacted] #golden arc #(We’ve obtained the fourth nickel almost) #(Not quite but almost) #Somino #Medical malpractice?? #THIEVERY!!!

[gemini-magic17]

Entanglement Chapter Twelve

She left me I can't believe she left me here. Standing alone in the library contemplating what the hell just happened. How could she kiss me like that and just up and leave me without a word? I try not to let the tears spill from my eyes but they slowly start to fall down my cheeks. Banging the back of my head on the stack my mind finally went to that place it never wanted to. The reason she left was because she heard Jade and that just confirmed what I always denied. Kit cares about Jade and it is in a way that has nothing to do with being a friend.

I wiped the tears off my face while making sure it appeared that I hadn't been crying and I hurriedly left the library. My chambers were close to the library which turned out to be a godsend in this situation. Standing in front of my door with my hand on the knob I started to turn it when I suddenly heard shuffling from the other side. Carefully opening the door I peeked through it and I saw my father standing there.

"Father, is there something you need", I asked as I made my way into the room shutting the door.

"I just wanted to come see how you are. I felt like I hadn't seen you in awhile", he said.

"I'm doing well", trying to hide the dried tears that streaked my face.

"Are you sure? You look like you have been crying."

"I tripped leaving the library and I hurt myself while I tried to break the fall with my arms", I said. I prayed that the excuse I used would work but my dad wasn't someone that could be so easily fooled.

"Y/n I know when you are lying to me but I also know that when you are upset you don't want to talk about it", he said. That was one thing about him that I have always loved. No matter how angry or upset I was he was the one to give me my space when I needed it.

"I won't force you to tell me what's wrong but I need to know that you are going to be okay", he said looking into my eyes with concern present in them. I grabbed ahold of his hands and smiled.

"Don't worry I am going to be fine. What do you always say about this family", I asked. He chuckled and said, "The people in this family are strong, and that we bounce back quicker than anyone."

"That's right. I love you", I told him.

"I love you too. To the moon and back I always will", he said as he hugged me tight. He pressed a kiss on my forehead and went on his way.

I flung myself onto my bed and all of a sudden the dam broke. The tears didn't stop coming and I felt like I couldn't breathe. How could I be so stupid and let myself fall for her knowing that she could break my heart.

**Kit's POV

I think I lost her. I lost Jade forever there was no way she was going to forgive let alone trust me ever again. Not knowing what I was going to do my mind went to Y/n. God, I left her in that library with zero explanation of what had happened. I may have not liked her but she didn't deserve that nobody deserves that. I ran towards the library and busted through the door when I made it. I called her name multiple times and no answer. I looked all over that place and there was no trace of her anymore which only meant one thing. Y/n left and she didn't want to stick around for what happened after. The next logical place I could think of where she could be was in her room.

On my way there I passed her father in the corridor and we exchanged hellos. As I came up on her door I could hear crying coming from the inside. She was crying and it was because of what I did. I never meant to hurt her not like this I don't want her to cry. I knocked on the door and I heard her ask who was it. I didn't respond being too afraid she would tell me to go away before I could even speak to her. I quickly opened the door and the tears she had streaming down her face broke my heart. Before she could say anything I stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it. Y/n started screaming at me telling me to leave and that she never wanted to see me again.

"Please don't say that I'm sorry I didn't mean to leave like that", I said.

"You didn't mean to leave like that! I was standing there like an idiot after you practically tried to undress me in the library", she exclaimed.

"I know it's just that-"

"It's just that you heard Jade come in and knew that what we did was what was wrong? I like you I mean I really like you and running after her after what we did stomped on my heart. You love her just admit it", she hiccuped. I looked down at the floor and then back to her before I could say what I needed to.

"Your right I did leave to go after Jade but it is not because I love her. It's true I do care for her more than a friend should but I don't love her. I do have strong feelings for you but I have feelings for Jade too", saying this I took into consideration the words that James spoke to me. Even though I was developing some kind of feelings for Y/n my feelings for Jade were stronger than that. The threat looming over my head by her brother reminded me that I needed to tread carefully.

"You may feel something for me Kit but I know for a fact that Jade is always going to be the person you chase after and I will be the one to be left behind", she said. I knew she was right if it came down to it Jade would be the person I would choose.

"I'm sorry Y/n. I didn't want to hurt you", I said with sincerity.

"Yeah well it's a little too late for that don't you think", she said and walked towards the door to unlock it.

"I don't want to see you not right now. I can't even look at you", she said with disdain. She opened the door and told me to get out. I walked past her and right as I was going to tell her something she shut the door in my face. I mean could you blame her I hurt her in more ways than one and it wouldn't surprise me if she didn't talk to me until the wedding. I screwed everything up with Y/n and Jade turning this into a shit show. What the hell am I going to do?

**James' POV

I can hear Y/n yelling from down the corridor. I ran as fast as I could to her chambers and the yelling grew louder. I was right outside when I could hear everything she was saying and how Kit was the person my sister's anger was directed at. From what I could get Jade's name was constantly being brought up. I knew then and there that Y/n had found out about those two and was now going ballistic. The yelling went on for a few more minutes when I heard the door unlock. I quickly went down the hall and hid behind an opening.

I see Kit walk out of the room where she proceeded to have the door shut in her face. I had to hold in my laughter so she wouldn't know I was there. I could see her defeated look and as she walked away I started to form a plan for how Kit was going to pay for hurting Y/n.

#kit tanthalos x reader #hazel callahan x reader

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

The story of how Mordred called Merlin mom and then proceeded to call Arthur dad and now he's adopted into the family – part 2

♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤

"Sire, the outer walls need repairs but I believe a new design for better structure and materials..."

Mordred had stopped listening an hour ago, he noticed he wasn't the only one as he saw Sir Gwaine wiggling his eyebrows at Sir Elyan who was trying not to snort at Sir Gwaine's ridiculous facial; Sir Lancelot seemed to be one of the few attentively listening when the conversation was interrupted by the King.

"Sir Mordred, what are your thoughts of bridging the gap between Camelot and the druids?"

'What...? When did the topic change?! I should've paid attention!'

King Arthur stared expectantly at him, they all did even Merlin which at this moment made him nervous and just a tiny bit giddy of receiving his Lord's attention that he was bound to say something stupid.

He did in fact, said something stupid.

And utterly embarrassing that he yearned for a hole to magically appear and swallow him up.

"I believe Momlin, I mean mum, er no, uh Merlin can help because we druids would follow Emrys...did I say I'm a druid?"

King Arthur's eyes widened in surprise and as Mordred took a quick peek at Merlin, he saw how much paler his lord looked.

'Oh Goddess this is my fault! I've ruined everything!'

"Mom I'm so sorry. I meant Merlin, I didn't mean to say mom but it's a habit now, an internal one." He nervously chuckled.

Mordred could hear Sir Gwaine laughing probably, maybe he could help Sir Leon tomorrow provided he doesn't die from embarrassment or thrown in the dungeons perhaps.

Of course he's digging his own grave.

Hands clenching he blurted out more treasonous words.

"Forgive me mum—Merlin—Emrys my lord! It's just your magic is beautiful—"

Percival the gentle giant whispered sincerely to Gwaine, "I never knew Mordred was Merlin's son, Merlin must've had him at a young age."

Gwaine loving the drama added his own to it.

"I knew Merlin had experience in being a mother. How else would he have survived years being Arthur's manservant? Aren't mothers great!"

Gwaine grinned and relaxed in his chair, this roundtable meeting has turned out to be unbelievably interesting and enjoyable.

Elyan pitched forward, voice soft and curious.

"Since when did Merlin have magic? Is that how he gave birth to Mordred?"

Mordred prayed for a miracle or for something to shut himself up from blurting out more ridiculous sentences; he would also appreciate it if someone could stop the knights from theorising whether Merlin was his mother or not.

Because that would be impossible. Maybe. Who knows? Magic is natural and weird.

"—which in turn brings out your ethereal beauty, not that I'm flirting with you because that would wrong when I see you as a mom and uh..."

'ABORT! ABORT! STOP!' His brain tries to tell him however his mouth is running on automatic.

"Sir Mordred—" Arthur began to speak when Mordred turned to look stiffly at his King before words rushed out of his unreliable lips.

"Sorry dad...Er I meant—"

'WHAT IN THE AVALON POSSESSED HIM TO SAY THAT!?'

Mordred felt sick.

Literally he wanted to vomit out his guts because first he called Emrys his mother than outed himself as a druid and pretty much told everyone at the roundtable about Merlin's magic! Then he called the King, Arthur Pendragon, his father...in what realm of unfortunate situations and unbelievable events made him call the King his dad!?

He has to do something to salvage the situation and hopefully in Emrys eyes he could be forgiven, maybe King Arthur would forgive both of them.

'Think Mordred, think! What can I do to change this around!?'

For obvious reasons, Mordred's brain refused to think, therefore it spewed out whatever thought was in his mind at that very moment and vocalised it to the world, or at least to just everyone sitting round the table.

"I AM A SORCERER!"

♤To be continued♤

Part 1

#how Merlin became a mother lol #merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #cinnabon sweetroll tiramisu #bbc mordred #the knights of camelot #bbc arthur #merthur fanfic #mum merlin #dad arthur #sir gwaine #sir percival #the knights of the round table #king arthur #sir elyan #fanfic #merlin fanfiction

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter eleven - eye for an eye

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 4.0k

warnings: canon typical violence, swearing, mentions of death, blood, injuries, bruises/hickeys, a lil bit of SEXUAL TENSION AND SHIIII whaaaaa omfg!!!!

a/n: this is probably the least amount of plot i have put in a chapter thus far, but i hope you forgive me. pray with me!!!!! i’m writing this series so fast bc every new chapter im like ‘okay no THIS is my favourite one. no this.’ wnhdhshfhdh.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So, you cook too?” Walking over to the kitchen counter, you can’t ignore the smell of whatever he’s making any longer.

“Sometimes.”

“Someone had you well trained.” As soon as the words come out, you regret them. To his credit, he only stops for about a second, and then keeps cooking. Trust you to put your foot in your mouth, especially about that. “Sorry, I-“

“You’re good. She was an amazing cook. This is… nothin’.” Your heart swells at the small piece of himself and his past life he shares with you, maybe spurred on by your own confession not that long ago. Letting the silence hang around the both of you, you lean over the pot, trying to see inside, and when he turns you grab a spoon and scoop some of the contents out. “Hey.”

“Oh, this is actually good!” You say with a mouth full of whatever he was making, and he snatches the spoon out of your mouth and chucks it in the sink.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“What is it?” He doesn’t answer - no, he does, you just have no idea what the words he uses mean. Whatever it is, you have never heard of it before. Clearly, you look as confused as you feel.

“Rice. Meat. Other stuff.”

“Other stuff?”

“You said it tasted good. You’ll eat it.” A bowl full of food appears in front of you. It’s steaming hot, and smells so good your mouth starts watering immediately. Leaning forward on your forearm, you swirl the food around in the bowl, letting the steam hit you straight in the face.

The last time you had a meal cooked specifically for you was 12 years ago. Your dad had made it, trying to smooth things over with your mother who was still worrying about the threats he received at his work. She was right to worry, but your dad just wanted to see her smile. You can remember that last night so clear.

You don’t hesitate any longer, practically shovelling it into your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever tasted something quite like it, although it might be the fact that all your meals have been half frozen and you don’t have anything to compare it to. Either way, it was fucking incredible, and whatever noise you make has Frank looking up over his own bowl, eyes wide, staring right at you.

“Good?” Nodding enthusiastically, he laughs and continues to watch your movements over his food. You can feel his eyes on you, it’s almost like a sixth sense now. You can always tell when he’s looking at you, it has a weight of its own, like his gaze is something to be earnt, to be deserved.

“So fucking good.” You take a final scoop from your bowl, and the fork clatters against the metal. You see Frank swallow, and finally his eyes drop down, shifting his weight to the other foot. “Where’d you learn all this stuff from?”

“To cook?”

“Cooking, knife throwing, all the fun stuff.” He takes your bowl and chucks both of them in the sink, turning back to face you. He leans on his forearms over the counter, and you would only be about half a meter apart.

“Marines for both.”

“You learnt how to cook from being a Marine?”

“Learnt to be resourceful. You don’t get a lot of supplies, and eating the same shit every day will kill you. Eventually you gotta try something new. All the guys would combine the rations every week, see what we could make with it.”

“They teach you to throw knives, too?”

“They teach you to throw anything with a point.” Frank turns around, and you think that’s where you get the nerve to ask your next question.

“Did they teach you how you taught me?” You see his hands grip the edge of the sink he was facing. What was too far between you now? Where was he going to draw the line? Technically, you kissed him. First, as least.

“What are you trying to say?” His voice was low, careful; like he didn’t know the answer either.

“Well, maybe if the marines taught you to kiss, you’d be a bit better at it.” There’s a second of nothing. Maybe this whole thing will implode on you. Everything else was - your plan of freedom, now relying on the cops and an agent you met a day ago, your plan to get your brother out, resting on the fact that the Colonel or the Gnucci’s haven’t killed him already. It would make sense that this very fragile situation would come crashing down, the final pin in the coffin, would be fitting.

You thought you’d be able to deal with it - having those half parts of him, not knowing where you stand, but within an hour your breaking your own rules, and-

Then he laughs.

His shoulders relax - his entire posture slumps a little, no longer tight and straight, and he laughs. His grip on the sink releases and he turns around.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now.”

“What!? I’ve had a slap in the face more satisfying than that.” It was a lie. A deadly, blue faced lie. Even though it was hardly a sliver of what you wanted to do to him, the slight brush of your lips even just for a few seconds was enough to send you into orbit. It was unsatisfying only in the way it had you begging for more.

You wouldn’t tell him that though.

“That right?”

“That is right.” You can’t tell if Frank is about to kiss you again, or punch you in the face, but he can’t do either with the table in between you. He has the same thought. “Big bad Punisher, but can’t even kiss a girl right.”

“That’s what you think?” You feel like prey; he’s stalking around the counter, one of his giant hands fisted at his side. His eyes were on you, searching for resistance. Confusion. Anything that would tell him to stop. You turn on your chair so he’d be able to reach you, and he takes it as a sign. He wasn’t going to be tentative this time, if only to shut you up.

“That’s what I think.” He’s finally standing in front of you, his breathing controlled in comparison to your own short, sharp intakes. He takes another step, nearly slotting himself in between your open legs, that aren’t being held together by anything now that you have spun on the bar stool, back digging into the counter. “What are you gonna do about it, Castle?”

“Your bitin’ off a whole lot more than you can chew, sweetheart.” There it is. God, if anyone else said it you’d probably find it grating, but him. His voice was so low it vibrated through your chest when he spoke, and your mouth was going dry like that time you saw him shirtless. Still, he was being drawn in by this confidence act, and you had to keep it up, lure him in just a little closer.

“I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure I can handle it, by the looks of things.” Looming over your head, his thighs came between your legs, forcing them open to accomodate his width. He was so big. It made even someone with your abilities feel smaller. He leant forward, one of his hands going past you, fingertips brushing your side, and it landed on the edge of the counter. Your eyes followed it, and that’s when you saw the marks.

Four, small indents on his forearm. They were starting to heal over, but they were still a bit raw. Small, but there. There was a slightly larger one on the other side of his arm, and the marks perfectly matched up with your hand. You did that to him, last night, when he was sewing you up. Your fingers lightly traced over the marks, lining them up with your now blunt hands.

“From last night?” He nodded, face inches from your own. If you looked up, your noses would touch. “Sorry.”

“T’s alright. I got your head pretty good last time. Call it even.” You knew he was talking about the scar on your temple, the one he seems fixated on. It’s one of your favourites.

“I broke your arm, too.” You can see another scar, from where your thumb broke his skin snapping the bone. Lightly, you slide the pad of your thumb over it, and his breath hitches just once. You smirk. The mask cracks, just slightly. “So, not even.”

“So I’ve still got a mark left?” You nod, and leave your hand wrapped around his forearm when you look up. You were right - your noses touch. “I think I know how I wanna use it.”

His free hand holds your face, and he pulls you to him. As soon as your lips touch, you feel everything else disappear.

There was nothing withholding in this kiss.

His hand snakes back into your hair, tangling the strands as he kisses you, hard. His lips are almost bruising with how close you are, but you are pushing back into him just as hard, not giving him an inch of doubt. All those cliche sparks flying moments you watched in movies as a kid doesn’t even do it justice. It’s more like your insides turn molten, everything hot and crackling.

The arm next to you hooks behind and you arch into him, your chest pressing onto his. He swipes his tongue on your bottom lip, a desperate question, and when you open your mouth for him, he nips at the skin before tasting every part you give him. You think you moan his name, or something that sounds close enough, because he steps into you one final time, and you feel the seam of his jeans against your core.

You roll your hips, driving on pure instinct, and suddenly you’re in the air. Frank drops his hand from your face to hold you up, and the arm around your back goes to your neck, holding you in place. He was kissing you unlike anyone had ever kissed you - like he was proving something. You moaned into his mouth, and he broke apart, keeping his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy.” His words are slurred, and before you can formulate any semblance of a reply he’s on you again, teeth and tongue and lips a complete whirlwind of liquid gold all over your skin.

He was walking you backwards, towards the room with the bed, and the butterflies in your stomach were flipping in circles. He dragged your bottom lip between his teeth, opening his eyes to get a look at you before kissing you again, and you heard his shins hit the frame of the bed.

If he laid you down right here, you don’t think anything would stop you from tearing his clothes off and fucking him until neither of you could breathe. The hand underneath you was grabbing your ass, encouraging each roll of your hips as you felt him harden underneath you. His lips leave you again, and he nudges your head back with his nose. You let him move you, and he begins hungrily kissing and biting his way down your neck.

It was making you squirm. The way his lips switched from soft and sweet to hard, letting his teeth nip ever so slightly making you yelp, then smoothing it over with his tongue in apology, making you moan. Your head dropped forward onto his shoulder, and you were still in his arms, standing at the end of the bed.

“Fuck, Frank.” You hear him groan, and feel it against your skin. You know exactly what he’s doing - leaving a mark like you told him he could. It makes you feel hotter, and your body shudders under the attention. He finally starts to come back up, kissing under your jaw, then your cheekbone, then kissing the scar on your temple, and eventually landing home at your lips again.

This time he kisses you slower - still hard and sure, but slow. Sweet, almost, a word you don’t usually use to describe the hardened vigilante. There wasn’t a part of you that wasn’t against him, and with the jeans he was wearing, they weren’t hiding any of your effect on him. He pulled away with a groan as you rolled your hips again.

“We…” He says, his hot breath kissing your cheek. His voice is strained, like how he talks in the morning. It makes you move against him again. “We can stop, if you...”

It’s a question as much as an answer. He’s giving you an out, but he’s also asking himself. Does he need to wait? Sure - it had been a long time since you had done anything like this with anyone, and even then you were extremely…inexperienced, for all your bravado. He had a wife.

A wave of guilt came over you. A wife. You could feel the wedding ring, burning a whole in your chest that was pressed against him. Maybe he couldn’t… or didn’t. Just plain didn’t. You stopped moving.

“We can.” You were still out of breath, replaying the last few minutes in your head. You had a feeling they would be making recent visits in your brain. You’d be lucky if you could ever think of anyone else.

Both of you seem to be waiting for the other. He was still holding you, one strong hand splayed on your back, holding you close, the other holding you up, on your ass. You swallowed, unsure of who should break the silence.

Neither of you do, and he doesn’t seem to be able to hold himself back from kissing you again. Spinning around, his lips stayed on you as he laid you back onto the bed, crawling up your body until you were propped up by the pillows. His hips held you to the mattress, pinning you down with the most incredible pressure, and you were almost positive you were seeing stars.

Hands roamed free, one of yours scraping through his scalp, through the short strands of hair that were growing longer the more time he spent with you. There was now enough to grab a small handful, and you did, earning another low groan into your mouth, and another buck of his hips. Every time he moved he was pushing himself right against your centre, and you were almost positive if he kept going, you would finish right here, just at the pressure of him being on top of you.

“Frank.” You practically whine, and he stops, hovering his mouth just over yours. You thought it came out more as a moan, but there must have been more question in it, because he pulls back.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” With those eyes looking up at you, and that god damned nickname, you could have melted right there. He pulled his body off you a little more, and you start to think about what your doing. What this would mean, where you are, who you are and why the hell this would happen to you of all people.

“We- you don’t have to. I dont want you to think that…”He pushes up on his forearms, and the chain of the ring that hangs around his neck slips out just slightly. You want to tell him so much - that you don’t deserve this light headed feeling he’s pulled from you, but if it’s something that he wants you would give it all to him. You want to tell him that as much as you might not get a happy ending, he deserves one, and he shouldn’t throw that chance away with you. You want to tell him how you…feel. As lame as it sounds. You want him to know what your thinking, even if you can’t sort it out for yourself.

You take too long, though, and he’s pushing off you, leaning back onto his knees. Whatever words you were going to say are lost.

He was still looking at you, his chest beginning to return to a normal breathing rate as he slumps down next to you, bed groaning under the sudden weight.

“Think we’re um-“ He starts, and you hear his head turn on the pillow, looking at you. “Think we’re even now.”

“What?”

His hand comes up from his side, the rough pads of his fingers gently brushing over the sensitive spot just under your jaw. You almost flinch at the contact, and you know exactly what was there.

“Ah. Felt better than a broken arm, I bet.” You say, struggling to swallow as his fingers remain on your throat, tracing aimless lines on your skin. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t-“

“Don’t. Don’t apologise. Never for that.” A single nod manages to move your head, and you turn on your side to face him fully. He keeps his hand on you, now moving up to cup the side of your face, thumb running along your cheekbone.

“You learn those moves in the marines, too?” A smile that meets his eyes spreads across his face, matching yours, and he shakes his head.

“You’re makin’ it real hard not to kiss you again.” Everything turns to that molten hot lava again, and you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel how hot you were under his hand.

“I wasn’t tell you to stop. Before.” His hand, gentle as it always has been, hooks under your chin, pulling you forward. Your body follows, and you shuffle closer. He kisses you again, your eyes fluttering closed to soak it in. It lasts only a second.

“We got time.” Was all he said, then he pulled away. You blew out a breath, searching for a distraction so you didn’t pounce on him.

“Yeah. Especially if you’re waiting for me to memorise all those maps.”

“You were staring at them for an hour.” He turns his head back up to the ceiling, and drops his arm up above your head. “Surely you got something.”

“Well, I was right. We need to go in the back. The blue prints look like they were making lower levels under the elevator shaft, but there’s nothing on the motion sensors under there.”

“Yeah. You know the way in?” You nod again, and when you turn to face him, you see an alarm clock next to his head, and realise how late it is. “You want me to go?”

“No.” You let your eyes drift down, seeing the hand not behind your head resting across his stomach. He was still wearing his jeans, and you could see how much you really got to him, because the denim was hiding nothing. “Change, though.”

“You tryin’ to get me out of my clothes?” He calls as he swings off the bed.

“Maybe.” He scoffs as he disappears from the room, and you catch a glimpse of him ripping his shirt over his head before you are left alone.

God. Why did you stop him, again?

It doesn’t take long for him to return, shirtless, and wearing baggy sweatpants that have probably been his for years. It’s too dark now for a normal person to see clearly, but you can see out the corner of your eyes he doesn’t hesitate to get in, careful to keep to his side of the bed.

Neither of you speak for a bit, but a strange sense of calm catches you off guard. You thought your brain would be going a mile a minute considering what just happened, but having him next to you does the opposite. It’s peaceful, almost.

“I don’t think he’ll know who I am.” You nearly whisper it, and you can feel Frank shift on the bed.

“Your brother?”

“It’s been years. 12 years, since I saw him. He was a baby.” You can still hear how loud he was crying in your head, the night of the fire. “He might not even know he has me. All this time, he is all I fought for, but he will have no idea who I am. What I’ve done for him.”

“He’s damn lucky to have someone like you coming for him. Even if he doesn’t know you now, he will.” You know he might not even be there, at Silo, when you and Frank tear it to the ground, but the closer you get, the more it scares you.

“I miss him so much, all the time. It hurts and I - I’m so scared he’s gonna be dead, Frank.” Your voice is softer than it’s ever been, hardly a whisper, and Frank pulls you to him. Arms wrapped around you, your back presses against his chest, and you don’t need the blanket anymore because of how warm he is. You don’t even notice your crying until Franks voice, soothing and low, shushes into your ear. “I don’t think I can live with myself if- he’d be dead because of me.”

“I know.” He’s not just saying that, either. He does know - he would know exactly how that feels. To lose everything because of what you are, to have done everything to keep your family safe, and have it still not be enough. Your cries get softer, and he’s still holding you just as tight. “I know. I got you.”

“Yeah. You do.” You feel a little puff of his breath, and you think it might of been a laugh if he wasn’t pressed to your back so tight.

“You’re alright.” Is all he says, over and over, and just as you drift to sleep, you think, no matter what happens, you might start to believe him.

[next chapter]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

tag list

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#frank castle angst #frank castle #marvel tv #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #marvel #the punisher x reader #the punisher x y/n #the punisher x you

[cicimunson]

Ruin Me Part 4

Series Summary: Eddie is obsessed with you, but tries to hide it because he knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t want to corrupt you or risk your friendship.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie almost get caught. When you lie to get out of trouble, Eddie realizes just how much he's changed you.

Characters: Eddie Munson x Virgin Female Reader, Y/N's father (unnamed for now)

Warnings: Sexual situations in a church (don't judge me), angst (I'm sorry, I'm gonna fix it!)

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

"Eddie, stop. We're supposed to be studying." You giggle as he nuzzles into your neck.

"I am studying, sweet girl. You're my favorite subject." He murmurs, kissing your jaw.

"That's so corny." You tease.

"Mhm, but it's true. I could pass a quiz about you any day." He flicks his tongue over your earlobe, earning him a low whine.

“You think so?”

“Oh baby, I know so. Your body sings to me. Tell me all its secrets. Can’t you hear it?”

He nips your collarbone and you gasp, your fingers tangling into his hair.

You make out a little longer, lingering touches and soft kisses and breathy little sighs. Eddie takes his time, taking extra care to be gentle with you. He’d never forgive himself if he accidentally bruised up your perfect skin.

"I gotta leave soon. I promised my dad I'd clean the congregation area at the church before services tomorrow."

Eddie sighs. "Leaving so soon, hmm?"

"You could come with me."

"I think I'd burst into flames the minute I darkened the doorway." He quips.

You giggle. "Come on, it won't take long. I could use the company."

"Your dad won't mind?'

"He won't be there. He's at home preparing for his sermon."

"Fine, but if I catch on fire-"

"I'll put you out." You kiss his nose. "Promise."

Eddie drives you, his hand resting on your thigh the entire drive. You arrive at the church and pull out your keys, unlocking the front door and leading Eddie inside.

He helps you take a box of cleaning supplies from the closet. You start to work, dusting the pews, polishing the podium. Eddie watches as you move around the room, wiping down various paintings and crucifix statues.

You run a vacuum across the floor, Eddie lifting his feet when you pass by him. He grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap, making you shriek and giggle.

He presses a kiss behind your ear. "So domestic, sweet girl. You look so cute doing your little chores."

"I'm almost done." You promise, hurrying through the rest of your tasks. Eddie continues to watch you, feeling his cock twitch when you bend over in your short skirt to pick up the vacuum cord.

You put up all the cleaning supplies and Eddie stands up, more than ready to go.

To his surprise, you kneel at the altar.

"What are you doing?"

"I always pray before I leave." You explain, crossing your fingers and placing your hands in your lap.

Eddie's eyes widen. You look so angelic like this, on your knees, your head tucked to your chin. So submissive.

He kneels behind you, brushing your hair off your shoulder as he kisses your temple.

"What are you praying for, angel?" He asks softly.

"Different things. Health and happiness for my family and friends, forgiveness for any sins I've committed."

"My baby, a sinner? Perish the thought."

"We all sin, Eddie."

He runs a hand down your back, making you shiver.

"Is that right, sweet girl? You've sinned this week?" His hand slips lower, squeezing your ass cheek. You let out a little moan.

"Answer me, baby. Did you sin?"

"I did." You whisper, your cheeks turning red. 

"What did you do? Did you tell a lie?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then what?" His hand drifts under the back of your skirt, caressing your ass through your panties.

"I had…I had impure thoughts." You whisper.

"About?"

You blush even more. "You."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm." You gasp as he tugs your panties down slightly.

"I'm flattered, angel. Go on, finish your prayers."

You close your eyes and resume praying in your head.

Eddie pushes your lower back gently, and you topple forward, catching yourself on your elbows. "Eddie, what are you doing?"

"Worshiping, angel."

"I don't think-"

"Shh, keep praying." He admonishes you. "You need to finish."

His hand slides between your legs and he runs a finger down your slit before plunging it inside you. You gasp, your hips rocking backwards.

Eddie strokes your clit with his thumb, his finger pumping into and out of you.

You clench around his finger, a low whine escaping your lips.

"Keep praying, sweet girl." He encourages, his breathing becoming ragged as he watches you struggle to keep your composure. His other hand undoes his jeans, pulling out his cock and stroking it.

He runs it through your folds, biting his fist at the feeling of your warm wetness on his cock. He can't fuck you, not just yet, not here.

"I'm done praying." You whisper.

"I'm not done worshiping though." He murmurs. "Can I finish?"

You nod. "Of course."

He rubs the tip of his cock over your clit, grinning when you moan and spread your legs further for him.

"Good girl." He praises, working his cock against your little nub as he strokes himself faster.

Your breathy little signs become loud gasps and groans, the sound filling the room as you start to cum. You cry out, your wetness seeping from your cunt and coating his dick.

Eddie jerks himself a few more times before angling his dick downward and cumming into your panties.

He kisses your ass, one cheek and then the other, then pulls your panties back up.

The thought of his cum rubbing against you is beyond arousing, and he jerks you back against him, giving you a bruising kiss.

You cup his cheek, kissing him deeply.

Eddie breaks the kiss after a few minutes, feeling his cock start to stir again.

"Are you ready to go, angel?"

You nod. "I'm ready."

You two stroll hand-in-hand out the door. Eddie is helping you into his van when your father pulls up, looking furious.

He gets out of his car and strolls over, his face red with rage.

"Young lady, is there a reason you had this boy in the church with you? Mrs. Wilder from across the street thought it her Godly duty to call and let me know you were fraternizing with a boy in the parking lot!"

Eddie clenches his fists at his sides, his eyes narrowing.

You quickly step in-between them.

"Daddy, you're being rude! I've been tutoring Eddie and he offered to help me clean today as a thank you! That's all. He's been a big help, and a complete gentleman!"

He frowns, looking unconvinced. "If you're lying to me, young lady-"

"You think I would dishonor you by lying?" Your bottom lip quivers. "Is that really what you think of me, Daddy?"

Eddie is slightly shocked by the performance you’re putting on. He hadn’t realized his sweet angel was capable of lying like this, of being manipulative. Have you learned this from him?

Your father takes one look at your sad expression and immediately backtracks. "No, no, of course not. I know I'm raising a good girl. You can understand my alarm, though, when I got a phone call that you were with a strange man."

"Eddie is my friend, Daddy."

Your father gives him an up-and-down lookover. "I see. Well, come on now, it's almost time for supper."

"I left my books at Eddie's."

"I'm sure he can bring them to school for you on Monday."

"I need them to study, Daddy."

"We can go get her books and I'll bring her straight home after, sir." Eddie offers.

Your dad frowns, thinking it over, and finally nods. "You'll bring her straight home, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

He looks hesitant but gets into his car and leaves.

You breathe a sigh of relief. 

Eddie helps you into the van then gets in the driver's seat. He's quiet the entire ride to his house. You can't tell if he's thinking or mad or something else entirely, and you stay silent too, because deep down you don't wanna know.

Eddie pulls into his drive. "Go get your books."

You go inside and collect your stuff, disappointed that he didn't want to come in and fool around some more. Maybe he thinks you don't have enough time.

You get back in the van and Eddie drives you home, still not saying anything. When you pull up in your driveway, you unbuckle and lean over to kiss him. He turns his head away and you feel your heart snap.

"Eddie?"

"If your dad had gotten there five minutes earlier, he'd have caught us."

"So we won't do stuff like that anymore where we can get caught. Private places only."

"It's not just that."

"What is it? Did I do something wrong?"

He sighs. "Yes, and no. You were trying to calm your dad down, I get it, but…"

"But, what?"

He turns in his seat to face you. "You lied to him so easily, Y/N. You didn't ever hesitate."

"And you're judging me for that? For a lie I told to keep my dad from attacking you?"

"You wouldn't have had to lie if it wasn't for me."

"It wasn't even a lie, not really! I do help you study, and you did come to help out."

"Bending the truth is still a lie."

He won’t meet your eyes, looking down at the steering wheel and avoiding your gaze. It makes your heart hurt.

"So now that I'm not a perfect little saint, you don't want me?" You ask softly, terrified of the answer.

He sighs. "It's not like that. I don't like the person you're turning into because of me. It's my fault."

Your temper flares. "We always come back to this! You are not some wicked person corrupting me! I'm so sick of this conversation."

"Have you ever lied to your dad before?" Eddie asks. "Tell me. When have you ever lied to him before now?"

You don't respond.

"That's what I thought."

"Eddie-"

"I can't do this anymore. I can't."

You blink back tears. "You're serious?"

He nods slowly. "I'm doing this for you. I know you don't see it that way, but I swear I'm just trying to do what's right."

You don't have the energy to argue with him. You're so tired of having the same argument. He's always gonna see himself as your corruptor. And maybe he is.

"Fine, Eddie, whatever. I gotta get inside."

"I'm sorry." He mumbles.

"You sure are." You get out and slam his door.

Eddie watches you stomp up the walk and go inside. Part of him wants to chase after you, to tell you he didn't mean it, that he takes it all back.

The other part of him knows that letting you go is the best thing he could ever do for you. And that's the part he chooses to listen to as he drives away.

Tag List: @e0509 @maddieluvseddie @micheledawn1975 @halialex1119 @neewtmas @harrystylesandthegoobs @cancankiki

#stranger things eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #edward munson

[ddarker-dreams]

THE GOLDFISH IN A CUP!! I THOUGHT YOU MEANT ACTUAL FISH GOLDFISH!! I'm laughing so hard I truly did think you put fish on a windowsill for God to eat

HTKEMR THEY WERE THE SNACK THAT SMILES BACK... no fishies were harmed in my scientific experiment to test if a higher power exists.

further little lock shenanigans:

the orwellian lps society

i'd frequently have to move my clip down from green to yellow because i talked too much during class

i liked collecting male love interests in club penguin and would make them compete with one another for my affection. i once made them run around my igloo in a race to determine who'd be my penguin bf

after i learned about cigarettes in school, i'd go up to adults smoking and tell them they'd die if they kept it up

i would give the ground the middle finger because i thought i was flipping off the devil down in hell

i got in trouble in sunday school because i refused to dance to the worship songs. all the other kids in my class would stare at me during the worship portion and slowly stop dancing when they saw i was standing there with my arms crossed

i blackmailed my brother into giving me his gameboy color + pokemon silver cartridge because he made me cry

i'd pray to god for forgiveness after i went over my friend's house and played modern warfare 2

i also got in trouble in church for writing that i want a pet pig on the prayer request cards

i convinced this one kid i was fluent in french while saying random gibberish

when i figured out what a bank was, i set up a desk with papers in my room and tried convincing my dad to give me everything in his bank account. i don't think he agreed

#who knows what i was up to #lock lore #answered #Anonymous

[averylegacy]

continued

@iwanttheromance

Jackson always tried to be honest, Even if the truth hurt. He tried to be loyal until you gave a reason to walk. When it came to his marriage with April; he can admit now he had his own role into how we fell apart. It was easy to blame her; to blame April for leaving. For Jordan; for us losing our first baby. But I also didn’t fight for her; for us. I waited until she was ready to come home, I realized now I had disrespected her needs; what she needed for herself. Yeah I wanted to be in her corner. I wanted her to need me, the way I had needed her. Instead of holding her; of telling her we’d be okay I had ripped the rug out from under her. 

I decided it was over; and truth was it was my biggest regret. I felt I walked away too soon, that I had given up on us. That the repairs were too broken. But now in the last few months I saw I’ve been lost since our diovice. Since we signed those papers; I haven’t been the same. I might not believe in her warship of god, but when it counted Jackson had to admit God had his back. Each time he prayed when April was pushed into this situation stuck to a hospital bed fighting for her life; god had helped her; helped us. We might have our differences, but we also had a whole lot of love for each other. 

Matthew; I wasn’t defending him, I was just trying say I understood why he couldn’t get past the first marriage. If I was in his shoes; I’d walk. Being forced to see the guy that stole my almost wife the first time we went down the alter, being forced into a weird relationship with the dad of his step daughter. I had to be realistic. I wanted the redhead to feel better; I wanted her to stop blaming herself. This fallen marriage wasn’t her fault; it was doomed from the start. I wasn’t going to say the words; but I was entailed to think it. Matthew I believed did love April; but it was kinda mirable he was able to forgive. I can only offer a hand; a shoulder for her now. I wasn’t going anywhere. 

Hand locked in hers; I had inched myself closer to the bed as our hands were laced together. Thump had traced small circles around her knuckles as I heard her remark about her track record with marriages. I could brush it off with a cute quip remark but this might be the right opening for a real conversation; about our own history we both held close to our hearts. 

“ You know our marriage, we both played a role in why it didn’t work out. I.. I’m sorry for hurting you when I decided it was over. I just.. I was hurt and I just I didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. But seeing you here like this.. Even before I can’t help but wonder if I jumped the gun..” With us; but I held my tongue shut on that one; not wanting to make it awkward if this was a internal battle with myself; and not a can April wanted to open. 

Green eyes lifted to meet her gaze, teasing; it was a habit. But I was the best looking guy she’d ever dated let’s be honest. A low chuckle emitted through bare lips. “ I think someone still has the hots for me huh..?” A joke; a light hearted joke; it was easy to fall into old habits with each other. We could always count on each other. As for her release date; I had to glance to the doorway; where I did spot Bailey still lingering; probably to drop news if I allowed her to. Arching head forward I thought about the arrangement in my head; but did it make sense for us. 

“ I may be able to talk Bailey into releasing you by the weekend but only if you stay at the penthouse with me and Harriet. I don’t want you to be alone.” A sense of care in his voice; as if it was easy. He’d take care of her; Jackson didn’t trust anyone else to ensure her safety regardless of the female’s answer.

[samanddeanloveeachothersomuch]

I know we often joke about how Dean sees the world in two categories: Sam and not-Sams. I honestly think this is a very accurate depiction of Dean's view of the world. Cass is not Sam. Is nowhere near as important to Dean as Sam is. Even their mom and dad are second to Sam. They didn't try to bring their mom back. Dean didn't make the demon deal for their dad that he ended up making for Sam. Dean usually ends up sacrificing every one of their friends or family for Sam in some way. Whether it be kicking Cass out of the bunker, choking their grandfather to make sure he didn't go back in time, or someone actually dying as the result of Dean being focused on Sam and no one else. Sometimes he even seems surprised when people have other priorities that aren't Sam. He's annoyed with Bobby when he has to take another call or yells at Cass for not showing up when he's been praying to him because he needs his help regarding Sam. Sam's the priority no matter what's going on in their lives. I do truly believe that whenever they're hunting part of Dean's mind is focused on making sure Sam doesn't die on a hunt. I am in no way saying Dean wanted to die but I am sure he was relieved that it wasn't Sam. That he wasn't the one who was going to have to watch the life go out of his baby brother's eyes. Again.

I think Dean has a need for Sam to be with him. It's a mixture of obsessiveness, protectiveness, and possessiveness all rolled into one. Despite that as long as Sam is alive Dean may be willing to let Sam leave or even leave himself. At the Boy's Home Dean was there for two months. He couldn't have really left anyway but he had been enjoying it, as brief as it lasted. I do think that he missed Sam but I'm sure Dean knew Sam would be taken care of. He wasn't going to be abandoned at the side of the ride or anything. And of course, the minute Dean saw Sam he decided to leave everything behind and go back to him. When Sam went to Stanford Dean was angry and secretly proud but he also missed him a lot. I'm sure Dean had been hanging around Palo Alto during those years checking up on Sam and making sure he was okay. We also know from the finale how scared Dean was of Sam's rejection. Other separations were temporary and honestly, I'm sure they realized at some point that those separations never seem to be permanent anyway even as they keep doing them out of anger. It doesn't really help them, it hurts them. Sam and Dean are meant to be together in each other's space and I don't think they could ever be truly happy unless they're together.

Sam is Dean's exception to any rule he has even if they were implemented by their dad. Sam could do anything and while there may be harsh words back and forth Dean would 100% eventually forgive him for it. Sam is the same way with Dean as well. Dean is Sam's exception to everything just as much as Dean is Sam's.

Sam is Dean's world. Whereas Dean is the center of Sam's world. For Sam, there is a world outside of Dean though it is distant and often out of his reach. Sam chose Dean over that distant world or normal life. For Dean though that isn't the case. He doesn't value independence like Sam does and his life has revolved around taking care of Sam for as long as he can remember. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. Dean is protective by nature and he likes the role of taking care of Sam. That is a role he chooses even as an adult to continue. Once they were adults it wouldn't be necessary anymore. Sam has tried to get Dean to look after himself more and stop looking out for him as much and anytime Sam brings it up Dean looks lost.

Because Sam is Dean's entire world Dean tends to only sacrifice for Sam. I don't necessarily mean that Dean isn't a hero just on the whole he's more worried about Sam's safety than the world's or even a civilian's. If Dean feels guilty it's usually because he couldn't protect Sam from something. Sam will, of course, sacrifice for Dean and has done so but I do think he's a little more conscientious of the world outside than Dean is because Dean is at the center but he isn't necessarily all there is unless, of course, Sam chooses that. He did choose that but it wasn't right away. In the end, Sam and Dean always choose each other.

#the epic love story of sam and dean #sam and dean are platonic soulmates #samdean #sam and dean #sam and dean winchester

[reyescarlos]

it’s been about a month since i've done one of these! here’s some of an exes to lovers au i'm sorting out. please enjoy this scene between tk and andrea 💜

“I love your son more than anything and I let him down. I can never forgive myself for that,” TK says decidedly, finally bringing himself to look her in the eyes.

Andrea raises a brow, her head tilting to the side as she studies him.

“You can’t exactly move forward if you’re still holding on to the past.”

TK frowns. “That’s the thing though. There’s no real way forward. This is all I’ll ever be to him. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to look at me and not think about the past, about how I ruined us. How could he not?” he asks, more so to himself.

“Did you come back to win his heart?”

TK shakes his head at once. Through all the disorientation of being back in the same space with Carlos again after all this time, that’s never been in question. In moving back to Austin, he’d hoped to at least see his ex again, but not in a romantic sense. He couldn’t possibly dare to dream such a thing.

“I lost that five years ago. I’m still trying to accept that. But, no. I came back to apologize and maybe, if I’m lucky, earn back his trust.”

TK looks out across the yard for a moment, Andrea’s well-tended garden. The fragrance of her flowers wafts through the air on the gentle breeze that passes.

“I know I broke our relationship in ways I can never undo. But if we could be friends again or even acquaintances, that’d be more than enough for me. That’s what I’ve missed most, you know? Just talking to him. Being around him. These last few years have been really hard and it’s all my fault.”

TK scrapes his nail against the side of the mug.

“I don’t really remember much from that night. But I do remember feeling like I had to set him free so I did and said things I’m not proud of to make him go.”

TK’s vision blurs with newly formed tears.

“I know he would have stayed to see me through it. He would have stuck with me, loved me even though I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want that for him. He deserved better. He deserved more than I could give him at the time.”

He wipes at his eyes before looking at Andrea again and setting his mug down.

“You did an amazing job raising Carlos. I’ve never met anyone like him before and I know that I never will again. I was so lucky to be loved by him. I knew it back then too, but I just…I lost my way and I lost him too.”

Andrea’s gaze is intent as she looks at him. It’s so much like staring into Carlos’ eyes. There’s such warmth and compassion within her gaze. She cups his cheek and TK’s last bit of resolve breaks.

TK lets out a sob and Andrea’s arms encircle him at once, catching him as he breaks down. She soothes him in the same way his own mother would, gentle slow circles across his back as she quietly tells him it’ll all be okay.

TK prays that she’s right, that these words are prophetic. He clings to her, his fingers burrowing against the softness of her cardigan. He closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. He’s too distracted in the move to notice they aren’t alone until a voice that doesn’t belong to either of them speaks.

“Ma, Dad’s asking when—,” Carlos says, stopping short.

TK sniffs and shifts from Andrea, putting space between them. He looks away, his eyes casting down to try and disguise the fact that he’s been crying.

“Tell him we’ll start in a few, okay? Five minutes or so. Surely his stomach can last that long,” she muses.

Carlos doesn’t laugh or make any sound in response.

TK licks his lips and looks up again. Carlos is still in the doorway, expression grave, but he still doesn’t speak. He looks between his mother and TK, eyes settling on the latter. TK is sure he must look rough. He’s got a headache from crying so much and he feels sick to his stomach.

Carlos searches his face almost as if calculating TK’s hurt. TK does his best to telegraph that he’s okay.

“Carlos. Five minutes,” Andrea repeats softly.

After a beat, Carlos nods and seems to come back to himself. He tears his eyes away from TK and looks to his mother.

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

TK lets out a breath as Carlos disappears back into the house. Andrea turns to him, arms spread open again.

“Come here,” she says.

TK goes without hesitation. He feels far more relaxed now, but still he doesn’t shy away from the comfort she provides. He knows he’s not in any fit state to go back into the house just yet.

He takes a breath. Andrea’s perfume is delicate and floral, but there’s also the additional spices of the meal she prepared for them all this evening. It’s simply nice.

TK smiles and unfurls himself once he’s had his fill.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me. I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he jokes, but Andrea looks troubled at his words.

“I can see the way you look at my son. I can tell what’s in your heart. I can see just how deeply your hurt runs. You’re a good person who has been through so much in your young life. It breaks my heart to see you hurting like this. You can’t keep punishing yourself, TK.”

“But what if I deserve it? After everything I’ve put Carlos through and my own family too? I’ve hurt a lot of people,” he argues.

“And you’ve been making amends ever since,” she counters adamantly. “I know Carlos would say the same thing too.”

TK doesn’t have a response to that. He bites back on his lower lip, sitting with her words for a moment. She pats his knee twice and rises. TK numbly gets to his feet too and begins to trail after her.

“Mrs. Reyes?” TK says, stopping in his tracks.

She turns back to look at him, her outline haloed in the light coming from the glass doors. She looks like an angel, bathed in warmth and brightness here in the dark of night.

“Thank you for listening to me,” he finishes softly. “I didn’t even realize how much I needed that.”

The smile she treats him to is so full of kindness, it’s a bit overwhelming but he’s grateful for it.

She comes closer and cups his face again, her skin warm against his cheek. It steadies him, forges his nerves into steel. He borrows her strength.

“Any time, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

TK falters for a moment.

“Do you think– Could we…could we maybe keep all of this between us? The last thing I want to do is complicate things even more for him. If he knew how I felt, it might…he’s in a good place. I don’t want to mess with that.”

She eyes him for a moment thoughtfully, her lips twitching for a second as if holding herself back from saying something she ought not to.

In the end, she simply nods, draping her arm over his shoulders as she takes a leading step to the door.

#911 lone star #911 ls fic #tk strand #andrea reyes #carlos reyes #tarlos #ronenrubinstein #userthai #tuserpaige #tusersonia #userbones #usernicholas #useream #useralie #jazzyjess #rafaelsliva #usermimsi #kimmy writes #wip wednesday

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

stoll brother headcanons for the soul please

Here we go away for a second fucking time. Anon this is not directed at you but my fucked up Wi-Fi and I’m so very sorry you won’t ever get to see the original masterpiece.

Two hours I worked on that TWO HOURS

TW: mentions of war, death, blood, hinted child neglect and abuse. None of this is really discussed in detail until the very last hc, but that’s pretty tame.

Travis

Everyone seemed him as an open book. The brother who forgives without a second thought, who doesn’t have a care in the world.

That’s actually wrong. Kinda.

He does forgive easily, too easily, but he never forgets and because he never forgets there is a time when he’s pushed too far and will never forgive that person again.

Travis held onto to the hope that his father and mother do care for so long, longer than Connor.

The day he held Connor, who was bleeding out, was the day he gave up on his dad. The day something in Travis hardened when it came to their father.

It was when he found their mother, long after the wars but before he really left camp for good, that he stopped loving her. She had a new family, a new set of kids, one boy one girl. She had a husband and a house and a smile that was real. Her favorite blue dress no where in sight and those blue nails he could still remember were replaced by a shorter set with the color of peach.

He never told Connor about it. Never told him how he prayed and begged for his father to help, how he found his mother livings life without the sons she had given up on.

He loves, he will always love them. But Travis stopped thinking they’d ever love him. And his longing for them, his naive hope, died the same day Connor lived, no thanks to them

Travis will always back up Will Solance for this. He can never than the son of Apollo enough for saving his brother

Travis didn’t steal. Well, he did, but it wasn’t that simple. He was diagnosed with kleptomania when he was 23 years old

When Travis stills it’s not because he wants to, it’s because he can’t help it. He stopped trying to explain that once he turned 13, no one but Connor ever listened.

He hated it. Hated that he took things he didn’t even want, didn’t have a need for. It was the flowers in Katie’s hair, a stray paintbrush at the arts and crafts table, a box of bandages from Will, it was nothing but it was enough for him and his brother to gain a reputation.

Travis hates lying. Hates it more than anything.

He doesn’t lie, never could, hated the bitter taste of it on his tongue. He’s learned to talk circles around people, to say something that has a completely different meaning than they think.

It’s a habit that his siblings who he raises pick up from him, even those with a differently godly parent. They all learned he hates lying, but no one other than Connor knows why.

He always knows when someone is lying. Can feel it burn on his skin and leave a terrible taste in his mouth, even if the lie isn’t directed at him.

This gift from his father is more of a curse than anything else. And he’s so very thankful that no one other than his brother knows about it. He’s not sure he could stomach being used as a lie detector in any war.

When he goes to college at camp jupiter he tries to start fresh

It’s cutting his hair in different styles again and again until he’s so good at it others are coming up asking him to do theirs.

It’s coloring his hair, changing his outfits and listening to every genre of music there is, hoping that when he looks in the mirror he’ll finally feel at home

Despite how nice everyone is, now he isn’t out casted for being a child of Hermes, this place isn’t home. These people aren’t his family and they don’t want to be. It’s just as suffocating as camp half blood if a bit more manageable

Slowly he talks and less with everyone who isn’t Connor. He’s at college, he’s busy and so are they. They don’t have time for big brother Travis, they have their own cabins now. Their own responsibilities. And they’re getting use to not seeing him every day.

It hurts more than he wasn’t to admit

He goes through just about every major there as well until he somehow ends up deciding he wants to work with kids, when then transfers to him wanting to be a teacher

Connor

He’s the bitter brother. Less forgiving, more prone to snap and snarl. The one who people need to work to earn respect and forgiveness

Connor holds grudges easily, he is bitter and you do have to work to earn his forgiveness. But he always forgives in the end.

As he gets older it’s easier for Connor to move on, he’s shared his anger and hurt instead of ignoring it. He’s okay with where he’s at

Connor despite how much he hates his mother, father, and Luke knows he will never stop loving them

In a perfect world if given the chance, if they proved themselves to him, he’s forgive them for everything in a heartbeat

He hates his mom for leaving them without a second glance, hates her for hurting Travis, but he loves her. He loves the woman who held him when he cried, even if it was rare. He misses the woman who made pillow forts with he and Travis on stormy nights, if she was home.

His dad is and will always be complicated. Connor hates him for Luke, blames him for Luke. Blames him for he and his brother and their entire cabin becoming outcasts in the one place that should have been home. Hates his dad for letting them stay unclaimed for a year. Loves him for keeping Travis alive through not one but two wars. Loves him for never actually milking him despite the unkind thoughts Connor has had, has even shared with him in his anger.

Luke his big brother and Luke on the other side of the battlefield are two very different people in his mind. One he loves the other he hates

Connor ends up as a mechanic once he leaves camp.

Travis helped him find a trading school for it once Connor realized it’s what he wanted to do. Connor will never forget the smile on his brothers face the day he was accepted into the school and the day he had a makeshift graduation

Connor always loved pulling things apart to put them together again. But it was never something he could really explore at camp. He was a child of Hermes, and children of Hermes weren’t mechanics

Part of Connor decided to do it to spite his father another part to try and figure out who he was outside of his godly parent, outside of his cabin and camp

Somehow he reconnected with Leo Valdez, who ends up getting him to visit came again and help out with the next generation of demigods

Connor loves it. They accept him so easily and they look up to him. He’s a demigod who found a future that doesn’t have to do with his godly parent and if he mentions how his brother is a teacher despite being a child of Hermes than Travis never has to know

Connor doesn’t stay at camp often but he does make sure to visit

Connor never really cut off contact with everyone but he didn’t try to keep talking to them when they stopped

Part of it was because he was bitter on his brother behalf. They stopped talking to Travis. And maybe his brother didn’t really try to keep contact but Travis was never one to reach out first

But with time Connor ends up sending the birthday texts and does the odd Iris message here and there. If it goes unanswered than that’s not his problem

He’s in better connection with everyone mostly because of and through Leo though. Leo ends up as one of his closest friends, one of his only friends from the world of being a demigod

Connor hates Percy Jacobson

He will always stand behind Percy in war. Will always follow his lead. And he knows, he knows he shouldn’t blame Percy but he does.

Annabeth Chade had a new best friend when Percy came. She left camp, left what he had then considered home still. Left him, left the small makeshift family of year rounders (which had been such a smaller group before the war)

He’s the reason to many are dead. And really that’s not true. Connor knows it’s not Percy’s fault, that Percy blames himself already. But he hates him anyways

And the worst thing of all, he blames him for Luke. Not as much as he blames his father but he still blames him.

Percy Jackson is when his life took a turn for the worst and while the son of Poseidon had no real control Connor can’t help but to hate him

Both

It actually took a bit of time for the Hermes cabin to accept the

Despite staying unclaimed for a year it didn’t change the fact that they were full blooded brothers who weren’t twins. That for some reason Hermes went back even after Travis was born.

Everyone seemed to think this meant they were his favorites, or at least they were favored in some form by him

Travis was pretty sure their dad forgot who their mother was until he went home with her and came face to face with a baby Travis

When they became head counselor’s it was accepted at first. There was two of them, they weren’t even the oldest children of Hermes.

But they were the only year rounder then, the only ones who have been at camp nearly as long as Annabeth Chase.

They may have raised half the camp, they may have been The big brothers but no matter how much they loved their siblings they never truly felt at home in the Hermes cabin.

They each have a shoebox (that can magically expand) which holds the most important possessions they have, even if it’s mostly for memories

Travis has the first birthday card Connor ever made it. Connor was five and he was seven, he had always made sure to get and give something to Connor but on his seventh birthday for perhaps the first time Travis received a gift. A paper filled with a tiny hand prints and splatters of colors.

There’s also a flower, that he convinced Lou Ellen to preserve for him, that Katie had put in his year. A small reminder of a time when they didn’t hate each other’s guts. When they only had soft smiles for each other and bright eyes.

Travis has at least one card from every sibling. Which isn’t much, no one really paid attention to his or Connor’s birthday, but the fact that there were any at all meant the world to him

He has one picture of his mother and father, funny enough it has both of them. From before even he was born, both with smiles on their faces.

He has many pictures of everyone else in his life and only one with him. He’s with Connor and they’re caught mid-laugh, bandages wrapped all over them and there’s a finger cutting off a corner of it. Travis distantly remembers a laughing Will taking the picture.

Connor has an old stuffed bunny, he can’t remember when he first got it but he knows Travis is the one who gave it to him.

He has a origami flower, a gift from a son of Aphrodite. Connor’s not sure why he kept it but he’s never been able to throw it out

He has letters, letter after letter from Travis. All from when his brother left camp, some from his time in college and some from his time in the mortal world.

They have matching bracelets from their father

Neither have any idea what they actually do, if they do anything at all

Both say they keep it on, as a reminder of each other when apart. Something that shows how connected they are.

Which is true but it’s also nice to have a reminder that even if it was just once, their dad has thought about them.

It’s leather bracelets, with one green gem in each, and a small charm for their father. A shoe with wings.

They both hate strawberries

They never enjoyed them before camp. The fruit always either too sweet or too bitter

It always felt like no matter what every corner they turned there was a strawberry. Strawberry this strawberry that, at every meal every day. Loved by all campers except them.

The smells of strawberries brought them back to moments full of blood and screams. The color made them sick, too similar to the blood of their friends.

Strawberries reminded them of camp, of summer, of war and death. Strawberries was something they hate and would always hate.

#whatoh answers asks #anon #I’m so very tired it’s now 2am #travis stoll #travis stoll my beloved #connor stoll #connor stoll my beloved #whatoh talks pjo #pjo headcanons #I still miss my og masterpiece of an answer #hope you like it anon!!

[sleepy-achilles]

The Family Of Destruction- Leon's first death.

Its in the title, so obviously read with cation

------------------------------------------------------------------

Taker didn't think Leon's life could get any worse. He was the youngest active wrestler at fifteen after he tag teamed with his father. He was a face shown on TV since he was born. He got his first belt at 19, his first scar at 16, has been seening ghosts since he was 5 and now at 20? He's about to have his first of many deaths.

Taker didn't know what to think when he saw Paul with kane again. He knew it'd bring trouble but he didn't think it'd be this bad.

"Daddy whats going to happen?" Cassie asks. "Nothing baby girl, because we are gonna get there and save the day before anything can" taker promises. Shawn, John and Leon are home whilst cassie and taker were at the arena. Cassie was a lot luckier than Leon, she wasn't put on TV until she became a active wrestler and leons manager years later, but she still loved to help backstage.

Taker wouldn't forgive himself if anything happened to them. He should of warned Shawn that Paul was back. He should of done something. Taker grabbed cassie and raced home the moment Paul sent him a text with the simple phrase deja vu. Taker wasn't stupid, the moment kane returned from the dead it became clear what happened that day in his youth. The day his family was ripped away from him. He wasn't going to let that happen again. His eyes lock with cassie who's face is full of worried. He wouldn't let his kids suffer the same fate he did.

"Oh god" cassie gasps. Taker looks forward and his heart stops. He slams his foot down on the pedal as the flames burn higher.

-

"Shawn!" "Papa!" John and Leon call. "Im stuck!" Shawn's voice echos down the hall. Leon presses the wet flannel to John's mouth. "What about you?" John muffles as they make their way deeper into the burning house. "Ill never die, I'm invincible" Leon smirks. John rolls his eyes as they reach shawns room. "Stand back!" Leon yells.

Shawns eyes widen, his face covered by the crook of his arm. The room burns away him as he steps back as far as he can. "Go!" He chokes out. The door flies off its hinges to reveal Leon and John. Leon throws the wet flannel at shawn. Shawn catches it and places it over his mouth. "Get outside and phone for help. I'll get charlie" Leon orders before running off. "Leon!" Shawn cries. John grabs Shawn and forces him outside.

Both men fall to the grass and begin choking for air. John looks back at the burning house and his eyes widen as Charlie trots around the house towards them. "Leon" he gasps. "John no!" Shawn cries reaching for the younger as he suddenly darts in. Shawn goes to follow but the doorway collapses. His eyes widen in fear as he suddenly pulls his phone out and calls for help. It's also when he hears takers truck turn up.

"Shawn!" "Papa!" Taker and cassie both gasp as they tackle him into a hug. "John and Leon are still inside!" Shawn cries. Taker stares at the house. A sudden panic filling him. He can't breathe, can't hear. Is this a panic attack? Is this how Shawn feels? Taker clutches at his chest and hunches over, tears building in his eyes. "Dad? Dad!" Cassie gasps. Shawn looks at him and it hits him. "Oh god..Paul.. " Shawn whispers. Paul took his family once with fire and now he's trying to do it again. The same house and everything. Takers suffering from ptsd. Shawn hands the phone to cassie. "Speak to the woman. Tell her what's going on and that they need to hurry" Shawn orders. Cassie nods and moves back.

Shawn cups takers face, forcing him to look at him. "Breathe. I-john and Leon need you to breathe" Shawn tells him gently. Taker grasps his wrists with shakey hands. "I-i ca-cant not-not again" he whimpers. "I know" Shawn whispers looking back at the house. 'Cmon boys' Shawn prays to himself.

-

"Leon!" John yells before covering his mouth. John pauses as the house crumbles and groans. John's eyes widen as it starts to fall apart. As debris falls John is pushed out of the way. He grunts as he hits the floor. "And who said I couldn't take on the champ?" Leon teases. "Not funny. Let's go, Charlie's outside" John grits. Leon helps him up with a wince. "You good?" John asks. "Fine. Let's go" Leon smiles leading John towards one of the windows. "Found it clear as day. Cmon" Leon tells him. "God aren't we lucky?" John sighs as Leon opens the window. John winces as his skin hisses. John goes first and once he lands he hears a crash.

"Leon!" John yells looking back at the window. He doesn't wait long until Leon's jumping out. "Thank god" John sighs squeezing Leon's shoulder before turning towards the front. "We should tell the others we're fine-leon?" John turns back to see Leon looking down. "Lee?" John asks moving closer. Leon looks up, tears staining his face as he opens his cupped hands. John's eyes widen at the metal pole sticking through Leon's chest. "W-wh-how? Leon!" John yells rushing forward, catching him as he falls. "No no no, HELP! I NEED HELP!" John yells as he lowers them both to the ground.

"P-paul" Leon whispers. John looks back in time to see the shadowy figure disappearing into the woods. "It'll be okay. You'll never die, your invincible" John whispers looking back at Leon. He doesn't know what to do. Leon just smiles at him. "Leon? HELP! SHAWN! HELP PLEASE!" John screams as tears rush down his face.

-

"-HELP! SHAWN! HELP PLEASE!" Shawn looks towards the house. "John? John!" Shawn calls. The pure fear in John's voice seems to snap taker out of it. "John?" Taker gasps. Charlie growls and runs towards the side of the house. "Cassie stay here and wait for the firefighters" Shawn orders as Taker runs after the dog. Cassie nods quickly as shawn follows.

He runs straight into takers back. "Taker?" Shawn begins. "Shawn..go back" Taker whispers. "What? Taker-" Shawn tries to move past him but Taker won't let him. Taker turns and grabs Shawn's shoulders. "Go back, please." Taker orders. Shawn stares at him before shoving past him. Taker hunches over, defeated as shawn let's out a scream of pure fear and pain. "LEON!"

John squeezes his eyes shut as shawn cries. Leon's head limp against his chest.

Shawn grabs at Leon with shakey hands. "Leon? Leon! Please! B-baby please!" Shawn cries. He looks at the pole and the blood caking Leon's shirt. "No..no..NO!" Shawn cries. He rests his head against Leon's as he closes his eyes.

Taker suddenly fills with anger as he watches the trio. Paul had just fucked with him for the last time. Paul would regret the day he even decided to paint a target on his family. He glances at Charlie who's growling and barking at the woods. "A battle for another day." Taker tells him quietly. Charlie looks at him and huffs.

"A war has begun."

------------------------------------------------------------------Notes

If you couldn't tell, I'm ill. I make them suffer when I'm ill. I also got let go from work. Which i knew was happening as the company was closing, I just didn't know it'd be after working a week and three days. So yeah. Fuck me I guess.

I will do a Leon's revival fic even if people don't want it because he's a lil shit who'd just turn up like nothing happened.

Also ptsd taker? Yes please. We all know he'd be against fire but the moment he sees his family home on fire? Again? With his family inside? Oh please.

I normally torture Shawn and Leon this bad, time taker had some.

Also sorry John.

This whole fic was a dream I had last night and well John was the main guy in it.

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker #john cena #paul bearer #kane #oc characters #leon michaels #cassidy michaels #charlie doggo #the family of destruction fics #the family of destruction