#not to mention they both come from households with abusive fathers

[sunnydreadfu11]

Just thinking about how Gicheul wears a cross on his neck and even has a crucifix on his bedroom wall but refused to set foot inside the church as if he doesn’t believe he’s good enough to be in such a place. And how Junmo avoided visiting his mother-in-law for essentially the same reason. She was the only one in Euijeong’s family who was kind to him and saw only good in him even when he didn’t think he deserved it.

[cryb4byem]

Purgatorium

Kyojuro Rengoku x ArrangedMarriage! Reader

My first fanfic ever omg!

cw: 15.1k words, canon typical violence/injury, alcoholism, parental emotional abuse/neglect

You feel as though you might as well be merchandise as you approach the Rengoku Estate with your father. But you knew this would happen a long time ago. 

The sound of an angry voice from over the high walls that surround the house like a fortress sends a shiver down your spine as you think with horror, “Is that him? Rengoku Kyojuro?” 

You turn the corner to finally enter the expanse of property that had been home to generations of Flame Hashiras dating back to the Sengoku Period, you know this, you’ve been here before after all. Your heart is in your throat, you’re about to see the man who was chosen to be your husband when you were still a child after a decade of close to no communication.

Your mind drifts back to when you came here first. You had just turned ten, the same age as the eldest son of the Rengoku family, to one day assume the role of Flame Hashira from his father and become the head of the household. You had always been shy, not one to interact with strangers, but he had been so warm, much like flame itself. 

After some discussion, your respective parents agreed that a marriage between the two of you would be mutually beneficial to both families, and just like that, your hand was promised in marriage when you reached adulthood. The whole day was hazy in your mind now, but Kyojuro’s bright smile and lively voice still appear vividly in your memory. 

You wonder if he still had them, or maybe he was the source of the enraged noises you had heard as you drew closer. Even if it was him, it didn’t matter. You had to do this. Your family was one of well-repute, and it knew it could only stay that way with a strong strategic marriage every generation. This engagement was seen as just that. Not to mention, they were well aware that your tie to the Rengoku would open their ample pursestrings from centuries of Flame Hashiras. 

You say a brief goodbye to your father, and enter the gates. The younger Rengoku son stands in the doorway of the home, impossible to miss thanks to the unmistakable hair and vibrant hued eyes that run through the men of the family. 

The young man spoke politely, “Welcome, we hope your travels here weren’t too strenuous. I’m the only one here at the moment, I apologize my brother is coming back from some work with the corps.” He looked down for a moment, “And my father is unfortunately… unable to see you at the moment.” He introduced himself as Senjuro and welcomed you into their home, offering refreshments and recounting the epic tale his brother’s crow reported transpiring the night before.

Senjuro spoke of how he bravely vanquished a demon wreaking havoc in a town over the mountain. From the grandiose language to how his previously placid tone elevated, it was clear he idolized his brother. You act piqued courteously, however truly you don’t really have the understanding of demons or swordsmen to comprehend what kind of a task he had accomplished. Your chest felt hollow even as you tried to look composed, your mind spinning, overcome with nerves. A flurry of what ifs make up a cacophony in your thoughts, you may as well be meeting the man you were expected to raise children and share your life with for the first time in mere moments. 

Your ears perk at the sound of the coarse gravel covering the walkway crunching beneath heavy footsteps, indicating someone approaching. The shoji door lightly drags against the floor as its opened by a firm grasp. One look, and there was no question who it was. A matured spitting image of Senjuro stood before you in corps uniform, with the same warm smile you recall seeing as a child. 

An upbeat voice engulfs the room, “Hello! It’s been many years! I do hope you are well.” Minding your manners, you bow and reply as you’ve been instructed, “Thank you Rengoku-sama, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” 

He takes your shoulders and gently lifts you out of your bow to an upright position, “Oh please, no need for that! It’s Kyojuro!” His tone rings out a cross between assertive and cheerful, quite authoritative but deeply optimistic.Your eyes widen with shock at how casual he was being, you had yet to see a husband who treated his wife as such an equal before.

You don’t even know what to make of the man standing before you. He seemed nice enough, he was your age, he was attractive, not to mention highly motivated in a noble occupation, coming from what you knew from other arranged marriages, this was not a given. 

On paper, he might’ve been “perfect,” but you still felt skeptical. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you both were pawns, both being used for the gain of others. You were strangers to each other. Based on what you had seen of other similar matches, there was a chance the rest of both of your lives together would be nothing more than what it began as, a business exchange. 

You had gotten too lost in your own thoughts, it was apparent. Kyojuro’s bold gaze met yours that had been lingering on the floor for too long. His voice lowered to an inflection of sincerity. Kyojuro reigned in some of his fervor from moments ago, hoping he had not scared you with his temperament which has been called various things ranging from cheerful to overzealous. He slowly reached into his pocket to pull out a long rectangular box. 

“Although, I admit I do not know you very well. You once told me how you liked the plum blossoms.” Suddenly you remember, sitting on the grass outside while the adults spoke, with Kyojuro picking up fallen flower petals and timidly saying how beautiful you found them. 

You look at him with slight surprise at his memory of an event you all but forgot, and curiosity where he was going with this. “Please look inside, I hope it is to your liking.” Kyojuro says earnestly, passing the box to your hands. 

You open it to find a hairpin adorned with the same color of petals from that day. The hairpin resembled them so closely it looks as though it could’ve been the very same blossoms crystallized into an accessory. 

The gesture was so thoughtful, and not to mention unexpected. Kyojuro looked at you intently, clearly waiting for a response to his gift, any response. “This is simply lovely, Ren—Kyojuro. Thank you.” You say after a moment. Making your best effort to not let on your overwhelm, and your reluctance to find comfort in such an inherently uncomfortable situation. 

Kyojuro says while taking your hands in his own much tougher ones to remove the hairpin from your grasp. “Allow me,” he asks respectfully. Understanding what he means, you tilt your head to the side for him to gently slide it into the side of your hairstyle. Your eyes dart up and down, unable to make eye contact, as you feel the cool metal against your scalp, and the heat emanating from his touch. With a soft smile he spoke reassuringly, “This will be an adjustment, but I believe we can find happiness together.” 

He knows as well as you do the origins of your marriage, he knows that his father was urged to retire (rather dishonorably) once he began excessively drinking. The last straw being once it was discovered, by the Master as well as his fellow pillars, he was attending high-stakes missions completely intoxicated. 

The Breath of Flames was intricately woven into the very existence of the corps. There had never been a generation of pillars that did not have a user of Flame or Water, and surely the Rengokus wouldn’t allow that tradition to be broken. So, the eldest son of the former pillar quickly satisfied all prerequisites, and assumed the mantle sooner than anyone anticipated to take his father’s place as the Flame Hashira. 

Kyojuro knew as well as you, the good to the Rengoku name that would come from another successful marriage with a well bred young lady of a respected family. Duty was no foreign concept to him, but he cannot help but recall back to his early memories of joy he saw in the life his parents built together. He wants the same for himself naturally, even with the weight of expectation resting heavily on his shoulders.

But all the same, he can remember sitting on the grass with you a decade before. The delight radiating off your face at the simplest things, he’d like to see that in you now. He can tell you are guarded, but with some time, maybe he’ll get a glimpse again.

The days leading up to your wedding, ten years in the making, go by in a blur. Kyojuro had to work for several of them since he planned to take off for his wedding proceedings. You spent your time engaging in small talk with Senjuro, writing letters home to each relative letting them know you had arrived safely and were in the care of the Rengoku family now, or simply walking the expanse of the property. Slow, uneventful minutia, at best. 

The elusive father, Rengoku Shinjuro, still yet to be seen by you, for whatever reason. Before you knew it you had both signed the license papers making you officially the lady of the Rengoku house. This all seemed to move at a breakneck speed, and as soon as you left the ceremony to move into a separate residence from the main house on the estate with your now husband, you remembered what came with your new position. 

Would Kyojuro expect you to sleep together since it was your wedding night? Would you have to start giving birth to heirs as soon as possible? While you understood the whole reason you were brought here in the first place was to become his wife, you wondered if it all had to be so quick. You had barely been here a week, and had been with Kyojuro even less than that. 

You shuddered at the idea that your fate  was to be stripped of any sense of agency, and relegated to a vehicle for continuing the Rengoku line. But at this point, you felt like your wants were no longer relevant. This is why you were sent off here, it was all part of the arrangement. You would have to just go along with it all. 

Kyojuro proudly took you inside the home on the Rengoku Estate set aside for you both  to live in. It was just across the courtyard from the main house with a view of the entire property. As the evening trailed into night, Kyojuro could see you out of the corner of his eye standing stiffly in the corner, looking at the floor with the same pensive look he had seen days ago. 

“How are you my dear?” he said in his usual upbeat tone looking at you with a genuine expression. “I’m alright…” you reply with a painfully forced smile that you hoped wouldn’t set off any alarms to Kyojuro about what you could possibly be dreading. “Oh I’m glad to hear that!” he beamed. 

“You know, I tend to work at night, usually coming and going at all kinds of unholy hours! If you want a place to rest on your own I set up the room next door for you! Feel free to stay there as often as you would like. I would not want to disturb you with my irregular schedule.” 

A wave of relief washes over you as you thank him and go into your own quarters for the night. As you walk in the outfitted room you notice a small vase off to the side, you realize it's a bundle of the same plum blossoms. 

A pang of guilt stops you before you can lay down to sleep, you had run out of the room to be alone a little abruptly. Kyojuro was considerate enough to give you a separate room to sleep in and even tried to decorate it how you might like it. 

Even if you resented the situation you found yourself in, Kyojuro was no more to blame than you were. You needed to have a little empathy. He was going through the same thing right now, he had just married what could be considered a stranger himself. 

Popping your head in the other room to say something, you realize you had walked in just as Kyojuro removed his top. Not fazed by this a bit, he turned to look at you with his saying “Yes my dear?” in his usual tone. 

You could see his muscular arms and chest leading down to his prominent abs followed by a chiseled v-line at the edges of your vision. You felt naive for a moment, had you expected him to be the same little boy you met all those years ago? For some reason in your head when you thought of him, that was still the person you saw. He had matured into a man, and not only that, was one of the nine elite weapons of the Demon Slayer Corps. 

You refrained from making this awkward unnecessarily, you should’ve announced yourself or done something before just appearing in his doorway after making it clear you wanted to be by yourself. If you made it obvious you were gawking at him, it would just make things weird. No, worse, it would make it inappropriate. 

You simply smile, a real genuine smile this time. “Uh, thank you, truly. Good night.” 

Smiling sweetly, he replied “Oh, of course, good night darling.” Feeling somewhat foolish, you sheepishly return to your room next door to turn in for the night.

 As you laid down studying the gifted hairpin in your hands, tracing your fingers over it, you felt a sense of hope? Like somehow, someway, this might all work out? Kyojuro returned to what he was doing with a sense of accomplishment, he finally got to see you smile with that delighted look, for the first time. 

—————————————

The next day, Kyojuro returned to work. Such is the expectation of a hashira. You rose around dawn to look out in the courtyard to see Kyojuro awake, already sword in hand. His motivation really was commendable, it was known that he stopped receiving formal training from his father as a child and relied on historical texts to learn the art of Flame Breathing. Since then, he had taken his training upon himself, and rose to the rank of hashira with practically no outside help. 

After noticing Kyojuro still completing his intense regimen after a few hours, you casually watched while reading at a safe distance across the courtyard. You slightly jump when you hear a gruff voice from behind you, you recognize it, it was the same rage filled one you heard the first day you arrived. It can only be the former Flame Hashira, Rengoku Shinjuro. 

“The Rengoku men really take after each other in appearance,” you think to yourself upon seeing the same features possessed by both Senjuro and Kyojuro. “I was a bit surprised you went through with this. But I suppose you seem like the type to just go along with things. I bet you even told yourself it's your duty or something like that. We’ll see how far that gets you” he said to you bluntly. 

“You’ll learn soon enough that the life of a Hashira isn’t some noble samurai existence. It’s a miracle when they all live long enough for the next appearance of the Master. The shadow of death follows them everywhere they go.” He took a long swig of sake, before muttering, almost incoherently. “Probably follows everyone around them too…”

This was definitely one of the more uncomfortable ways to be introduced to your father in law. “Do you even care for my son?” he followed up with. You didn’t know what to make of his first statement, the Rengoku were a long line of fierce warriors, clearly the “shadow of death” didn’t loom them too closely. What did he even mean by that? As for the second statement, you had hoped it wasn’t as obvious as it may seem, but you hardly even knew Kyojuro. Of course you married him for the good of your family. Did you care for Kyojuro? Was he asking if you loved him? Is it possible to truly love someone given the circumstances? 

“Whatever. I really don’t give a damn. It’s none of my concern anyway.” Shinjuro said, walking away. Your pause might’ve been an answer enough, or maybe it was your expression that always tends to betray you. You knew you shouldn’t ponder the words of an inebriated person for long, but the question stuck in your mind for the rest of that day. There was no requirement to love him so long as you filled your duty as his wife, anything in addition to that was at your discretion alone. 

—————————————

Not long after, the pillars were all called from their respective regions and responsibilities for a semi-annual meeting. The hub of the Demon Slayer Corps buzzed with a particularly lurid tale. News of an alleged benevolent demon, being carried and protected by a young slayer, spread like wildfire. Even a civilian like yourself could see the conflict of interest there. Apparently, the slayer was summoned by the Master himself, and was to appear before all nine Hashira.

You were relieved that there was something more exciting to be gossipped about than the latest rumors surrounding the ever-popular Flame Hashira’s personal life. After their meeting, which had clearly left an impression considering the looks on faces, Kyojuro began introducing you to some of his colleagues. Among the first was a fellow pillar, Uzui Tengen, whom he considered his closest friend. You don’t think you had ever met a bigger person before. You thought Kyojuro was tall and brawny, but he was dwarfed by the Sound Hashira. 

“Uzui, this is my dear wife” he gestured to you with pride, that same glowing look he always had. “Oh so you're the flashy bride! I’ve heard a lot about you.” Those words made you pause for a moment, what did he mean by this? Had Kyojuro said how you refused to share a bed with him? Had he talked about how frigid you acted? 

"I have to say, Rengoku," he began, a knowing glint in his eye, "you really undersold her. She’s even more ‘lovely’ than you described, if that’s possible!" Speaking through his teeth with a smirk he added, “No wonder you’re satisfied with one.” 

Kyojuro laughed, bold and vibrant as ever. “You are too kind! My heart is truly filled to the brim!” Eager to return a retort, clearly relishing in banter on the topic of the number of wives the Sound Hashira possessed.

“Indeed you are correct. I suppose I was not able to do her justice with words alone, but, at least I gave you a notion of what to expect. I’m sure you recall my bewilderment when, after I introduced myself, and then proceeded to do so two more times when another, and then yet another wife stepped out.” You let out a soft chuckle, trying to hide the blush that crept up your cheeks. The warmth of Kyojuro’s joy was infectious, and you could feel your heart racing as he caught your eye. His bright smile widened, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as a blush colored your cheeks.

You walk the grounds of the hub of the Demon Slayer Corps talking to whomever Kyojuro could borrow for a moment. Meeting people was not your forte, old habits die hard you suppose. It was relieving to be with someone so easily able to light up a room. 

Something about being proudly introduced by your personable husband gave you a sense of security. You were happy to be able to just smile and do the bare minimum of talking to the onslaught of strangers. Kyojuro almost felt like a shield of charisma and positivity to hide how socially awkward you felt, and deflect those unwanted questions. 

Especially since there were definitely some intimidating individuals around here. You were happy their enemies were the demons, never did you want to find yourself on the other end of any of their blades. 

With each person you met, you found yourself inching closer and closer to Kyojuro. This didn’t go unnoticed, and he couldn’t help but get a flutter in his chest seeing you blushing and getting closer and closer to pressing yourself against his chest. 

Eventually when walking, you gently took his four calloused fingers in your hand subconsciously. He paused and turned to you, “Here, if I may” he said with earnestness.

Kyojuro entwined your fingers, his grip secure yet gentle, and as you resumed your walk, his thumb began to stroke the back of your palm. There was an innocence and tenderness in this simple gesture, a quiet reassurance that spoke volumes. He seemed to sense your anxiety, and with each soothing caress of his thumb, it felt as if your worries were slowly melting away, replaced by an enveloping comfort.

—————————————

One thing you quickly learned about Kyojuro was that he was a creature of habit, and you soon saw yourself following suit. You had begun nonchalantly sitting in a usual spot at the edge of the courtyard with a direct view of where Kyojuro did his daily conditioning. Rain or shine, he would be out there honing his techniques and maintaining his fitness. 

You preferred when it was bright out, the radiating light off the sheen of sweat on the surface of his skin was a sight indeed. Something about it was so fitting. He seemed to have a perpetual glow about him anyway, his energy taking on a visible manifestation seems like it was that way it was always meant to be.

He wasn’t always alone in his training. Nearly every pillar came by at least once, some more outgoing than others. Kyojuro’s former tsuguko, The Love Hashira, Kanroji Mitsuri, had even fawned over you as if she was meeting a celebrity. Absolutely bubbling with compliments over how “cute” you both were. You were happy to not be seen as the icy girl you feared everyone, including Kyojuro, saw you as. Upon hearing this comment, you glanced over at him to see a slight hue of red over the top of his cheeks?  Was he actually blushing? No, you thought, it’s probably just warm out. You doubt he feels any way in particular about you yet.

Soon you realized you were reading and sketching less and less each day, and watching Kyojuro instead. In addition to the pillars joining him for spars and exercise, Senjuro also took part as well. Kyojuro had no official tsuguko at the moment, but he seemed prepared to give this role to his younger brother. 

Senjuro wasn’t quite strong or skilled enough for a blade, but with a wooden stick he would do his best to copy his brother’s demonstration of each form of Flame Breathing. You were no master, but there was something obviously missing in Senjuro’s understanding of swordsmanship. Kyojuro’s movements carried so much power and fluidity through them, but no matter how he slowed them down and simplified them, Senjuro couldn’t seem to catch on. 

Despite this, Kyojuro never looked disappointed or faltered in his passion for instructing him. Whenever Senjuro asked to practice with him, Kyojuro gladly took long breaks in his own regimen to try to correct Senjuro and encourage him with insightful pointers. 

Senjuro wasn’t oblivious to his own ineptitude. One day after leaving his brother to resume his own training, he walked past where you sat watching as you always did looking especially dismayed. You felt as though you should say something to the young boy, he was your brother in law after all. 

“Your swings are looking more and more like Kyojuro’s every day” you say as he passes. Senjuro stopped, pitifully turning to face you as if he had gotten caught doing something wrong, “I’m not sure about that, but thanks. I need to spend more time practicing...” 

You frown slightly, “I see you spend lots of time out here as it is, you don’t want to burn out.”

Senjuro responds with desperation in his tone, as if he had reason for shame. “If I can’t master this, there might be a day I need to carry on the title of Flame Hashira, but won’t be able to. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me, my brother is the best teacher I could ask for.” You don’t know what to say, he clearly wanted this and was willing to work for it. But it was like he was trying to squeeze into a position that he couldn’t fit into, no matter how he tried. 

“I can tell he likes being able to see you while he’s out here. I catch him looking over here at you all the time. He really is a great teacher, you should ask to try one day. I think it would make him happy.” 

The dejected look on his face dissipated into resolve, “I’m going to work even harder until I’m as strong as my brother. Thank you for comparing me to him.” You were glad to be able to help him gain some confidence, but Kyojuro looked over at you often? Had he noticed how intently you had been watching him lately? 

The next time you sat in your usual spot at the edge of the courtyard, you did something you didn’t think you would do. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you were walking towards Kyojuro right now, but nevertheless you had approached him and gotten his attention in doing so. He was in the middle of his striking drills when he noticed you, his demeanor changed in an instant. 

He abandoned the formidable striking stance he was once in to an approachable posture, his brow furrowed once with concentration and lips curled into a pensive grimace snapped into his trademark look of unwavering joyfulness. 

“My wife!” He exclaimed. “Do you need anything dear?” His words were enough to take you aback for a moment. It still didn’t feel real to you, you wonder if he felt the same deep down. It was easy to forget you were actually married sometimes. It often felt like you were friends at best, all things considered. “If you aren’t too busy, would you teach me a little?” You said almost as if you expected him to decline your request. “You want to try? Oh absolutely!” He gestured you over, standing beside you as he passed his katana into your grasp. 

Upon his transferring the weight of the sword to you, it took you by surprise how heavy it was. Immediately the blade drooped sideways as you tried to keep it upright. When Kyojuro wielded his sword, he made it look as if it was another limb that he moved as easily as one could move any part of their body. Noticing your early difficulty, Kyojuro moved himself behind you to wrap his masculine battle worn hands over your own. 

Your own forearms between his own corded muscular forearms coming out of his rolled sleeves, their vascularity on full display to you. More intimate than that, you could feel the heat coming from his presence directly behind you. Kyojuro was careful not to completely press up against you, a gentleman through and through. But that didn’t change how flustered it made you to hear his voice, not wanting to shout while so close to you, he lowered himself close to your ear to speak much more softly than usual to instruct you. 

Using his strength to guide the blade in your hands, told you “Just start here and follow through the movement.” He paused for a moment to let you watch the sword's motion before continuing “Just like that, you’ve got it. Beautiful.” You copied the stroke once more with his help before trying it on your own.

“You might just have a career slaying demons if you keep that up! Ha ha!” His laugh rang out melodically, you understood why people enjoyed training alongside or under him. Hearing Kyojuro praise you even for the simplest thing made you feel so good, special even. “I’m proud of you, you did very well.” 

He told you with the same electric smile you recalled from the first time you saw him, you had seen it many times in the time you had spent watching him and in his presence. But something about it never got old. 

Feeling a sense of giddy as you walked up to the main house, you quickly came down when you heard the same negative gruff voice you knew belonged to your father in law. “I’m surprised you show yourself around here. Your family already got the money they sent you here for.”

He didn’t even make eye contact with you, focused on finding another bottle to get his fix. “You’re not obligated to spend time with him. The closer you get the harder it’ll be when he inevitably finds an early grave.” Shinjuro chuckled dryly, he seemed to want to hear what you had to say to that, a change considering he often speaks at you rather than to you. 

“I don’t see why you think that. He is very ski-“ you are cut off mid sentence abruptly, his tone rising from indifference. “Skill is something you’re born with. He tries to cheat this rule by training himself to the bone. No amount of work can ever supplement an absence of talent. His fate is decided. You getting attached will only make it harder when that fate comes to pass.” 

You were appalled by what you were hearing, wasn’t this man a hashira? He had to understand that a human is always at a disadvantage to a demon,  yet that does not stop the righteous fury that compels them to confront those monsters anyway. Innate ability is overcome by work all the time, otherwise how would a human ever beat a demon? 

The essence of the Demon Slayer Corps is finding strength through determination and will. Dismissing work ethic as a cheap short cut for those never meant to succeed was contradictory to everything it stood for. How did the man once celebrated as the greatest hashira of his generation end up like this? “You do whatever the hell you want, but I tried to warn you. It’s for the best that you didn’t marry him for love.” With this, Shinjuro got another jug of sake and returned to where he resided alone. 

—————————————

You had always known how taxing the work of the nine leaders of the Demon Slayer Corps was, but even you were taken aback when you realized how much was demanded of Kyojuro. He was not only a leader in spirit for the other slayers, but the one who was tasked with being aware of everything happening throughout his sector. 

Recently, he had learned about a village with a troubling incident involving a well, where someone had allegedly fallen in and vanished without a trace.  It seemed that only a few lower-ranked slayers had been sent to investigate, but Kyojuro insisted on going along personally.

He wanted to be involved in as many missions in his sector as possible; it helped the lower-ranked Corps members assigned to the incident feel more at ease, even if he was just there to stand by and ensure the extermination went smoothly.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he set out to investigate. Taking off on foot to follow any traces, he suspected a blood demon art was the culprit. Now, he had been gone for what felt like over a full day. His absence was palpable, as if a swell of energy had been drained from the home.

As the late afternoon dragged into evening, you found Senjuro bags in hand coming through the gates. You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, and followed in suit.

 “Gone to the market? You could’ve asked me to go.” Being the elder of the two of you, it was only natural that such tasks would be your responsibility. You felt bad that unbeknownst to you he had gone on his own.

Senjuro washed his hands before unpacking the groceries he had bought, donning a kitchen apron. “Some years ago, Father dismissed all our housekeepers. So I pretty much take care of the chores and cooking around here, I’m so used to it I didn’t think to mention.” As the youngest Rengoku informed you, it started making sense. You had always wondered why the son of a wealthy noble family spent so much time doing household errands, he had adopted it as his role in the family. “I don’t mind though. As much as my brother loves to eat, he really can’t cook anything,” Senjuro said endearingly. 

“I try to have some food ready before he comes home from his duties, mainly because otherwise he’ll insist on helping, then end up making it all no matter how many hours he’s been working.” Senjuro put several large sweet potatoes in a loosely woven basket before submerging it into a wooden basin of fresh water, the dirt on the reddish-purple flesh coming off as he scrubbed them with a soft bristled tawashi brush. 

“But also because I think he is far better with a katana than a kitchen knife.” Senjuro shook his head with a soft chuckle. You could tell he had his fair share of miso saltier than the sea and gluey rice balls. 

As he worked, he moved to the stove, rinsing a measure of rice and putting it on to cook. The sound of water bubbling and the aromatic nutty scent on the steam filled the air.

“I’m a bit useless… but this is something I think I can do” 

Senjuro lifted the basket of sweet potatoes out of the basin, the remnants of Earth cleared from the skin, leaving them ready to be cooked. The furnace was already warm and simmering a main course, that had seemingly been cooking for hours, to compliment the carb rich Rengoku family favorite side dish. 

He had begun adding cubed bite-sized pieces of the starchy vegetables to a large pot to infuse the hearty taste into rice, before long the smell notified all that dinner was nearly done. When a roaring voice made Senjuro jump, leaving him clearly shaken to the core.

“Senjuro?! Where are you boy?”

The young man fumbled with the tie of his apron, frantically removing it, before scurrying off to the origin of the shout. You couldn’t help but overhear the conversation in the other room. 

“Where’s the damn sake I told ya t’get?” The voice barked angrily. The words slurred in a state of intoxication. Your father in law. No doubt. 

“I just thought maybe…” Senjuro replied sheepishly, trying desperately to keep the incident from escalating. 

“Can’t even do something as simple as buyin’ sake from th’ market, huh? Worthless.” Shinjuro’s seething rage turned into cold disdain. It was sickening. 

“Go back. Now! Don’t come back t’my house until you have some!” You couldn’t tell if Shinjuro was willing to make good on the threat he elucidated, but there was venom in his words nevertheless. 

Senjuro piped up timidly, speaking as though any word could and would lead to consequences. “B-but brother will be back soon… I need to finish making hi-” 

“I don’t give a damn! You will obey your father, boy!” The muddled speech from the alcohol was cut by Shinjuro’s fury, he bellowed clear as day.“He has someone else to do that anyway! It’s time you get a fucking life and stop worshiping that bastard!” You hear the door slide shut so forcefully you worry if it had broken.

Senjuro trudges by you with his head hanging low. You can see the glassiness of his eyes when he lifts his head to face you. Instinctually, you embrace him, holding his head as if you were his mother. As a tear escapes his eye, you wipe it away with your sleeve offering a warm smile that he halfheartedly returns after a moment. 

“I… have to go, but please finish up making brother’s satsumaimo gohan for me? And if he tries to help in any way, promise me you’ll make him sit down! He’s been gone since before dusk yesterday!” 

“Senjuro, you know I’m perfectly capable of sitting down and enjoying your cooking! But why not let me lend a hand while I’m already standing?” You felt the warmth of his presence, his charisma and energy igniting a sense of undeniable comfort. 

“Brother!” Senjuro’s face lit up with joy as he went over to greet Kyojuro, still standing in the doorway,  running to hug him with force that might’ve knocked over an average person. The boy had acted as though it had been months or years of separation the way he clung to Kyojuro, and rejoiced at seeing him standing in the doorway. Foolishly you had forgotten, or maybe just been illusioned by his nigh impenetrable invincibility, that the life of a demon slayer was one of uncertainty. Any time a swordsman left for work, might be their last. It certainly was something to be celebrated each time he returned home.

“Ha ha! Glad to see you are in high spirits Senjuro! Now what is this about needing to go somewhere?” Despite nearly 24 hours of fatigue weighing on him, Kyojuro’s vivacity was as potent as ever.

“Uh… Father has demanded I go and buy him more sake…”  

“Nonsense! We ought to all enjoy the fruit of your labors! Surely Father will understand.” Kyojuro reassured, resting his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. Senjuro seemed to be at ease with his elder brother’s blessing. 

Turning to you, Kyojuro lowered to a knee, cradling your hand in his own grasp; the hardened hands of a warrior enveloped yours with a gentleness as though you were made of glass. His amber pools met yours before carefully bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a soft kiss, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “Ah my flame!” His words were thick with affection, tenderness. 

You might as well have been electrocuted at the point where your skin connected with his lips. It made you think of what it would be like if you both…  You move such a thought from your head, “Welcome home, we’ve all missed you dearly.” You speak, basking in the bright glint in his eye upon hearing your greeting. He carried a scent of the woody musk with faint notes of smoke, no doubt indicating the remoteness he traversed on the way to the village, it was an essence befitting a man such as him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his golden hair was tousled and his features drawn with fatigue leaving shadows beneath his honey rimmed eyes, giving him a ruggedness you had yet to admire in its full glory yet. 

“Okay Brother! Now please just sit down! You need to rest!” Senjuro implored, his brother heeding his insistence. The younger boy took the lid off the sturdy pot to reveal the gigantic portion of sweet potato rice, a cloud of steam wafting out carrying an earthy, saccharine aroma. Senjuro pulled a decorated cloth from over another dish to reveal succulent soy glazed meat, it was truly a meal befitting a gourmand like Kyojuro. 

“Senjuro what a beautiful talent you have! Truly, what would we all do without you!” Senjuro’s delight at these words was palpable. The beratement received from his father not long ago, was seemingly replaced by Kyojuro's accolades. 

Looking out the doorway to the sliding door of the master bedroom, Kyojuro’s smile faltered momentarily. “It would be a shame for Father to miss this! Perhaps I'll inform him that I’m back!” Without hesitation Kyojuro stood from the table. 

—————————————

The noises of chatter within the kitchen sounded faint despite its proximity, his hardness of hearing only adding to the sense of anxiety and isolation as he steeled himself outside Father’s room. The irony was apparent. The title “hashira” alone struck terror in the hearts of horrible bloodthirsty monsters, despite their capacity for any amount of both power and unimaginable cruelty under the veil of night. Yet at this moment, in his own home, he found himself more uneasy than he ever had in the face of a demon. He could not hide behind years of discipline, victories, or raw strength. He felt as if he had become a small child again, simply seeking approval.

He hardly sensed any movement from within, exhaling sharply, sliding the door open to speak in a tone he consciously kept as even-keeled and humble as possible. His senses were overwhelmed with the pungence of undiluted alcohol.

“Father… I’ve returned.” 

The older man laid his back facing the door, surrounded by the emptied vases of sake, and did not turn, not even to acknowledge the presence of another. 

“Yeah? I could tell. I could probably hear you from the afterlife. Tch.” Shinjuro growled caustically, still refusing to meet his son’s gaze. 

“Would you care to join us for dinner, Father? Senjuro would certainly be happy to see you enjoying the meal he worked so hard on.” Kyojuro prayed for once he would say yes. He rarely left his room much less the house, hardly doing anything but drinking in solace. 

“I don’ give a damn about that. I told your fool of a brother to bring me sake, and of course even that is too difficult for him. Useless. Utterly useless.” 

“Please Father do not speak so-” 

“Get out. Stop disturbing me.” Shinjuro cut him off abruptly, haphazardly shaking each of the old bottles for anything left within.

Begrudgingly, Kyojuro began sliding the shoji door shut once again. 

“As you wish, Father…” 

With a small space left before the sliding door had completely shut, he remembered something. A message he was asked to pass on by a civilian he had met earlier.

“In the village I patrolled… another person recognized the family haori. They too, have asked me to thank you… for your time as the Flame Pillar…”  Kyojuro waited for what felt like forever, he needed to hear what his Father would say. Yet another living proof professing their gratitude to the passion that he once held. 

Setting down the empty bottle in his hand, Shinjuro sighed, even his breath marred with exasperation.

“It’s all meaningless…” 

“In the end, we’re both destined to be nothing more than failures. Pathetic until the very end.”

Kyojuro clamped his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to repel the spiteful words. It would not dampen his spirit, he couldn’t succumb to that. Not when he had so many people depending on him, they deserved better than that. The horrible things his father said were not worth thinking of another minute. Kyojuro slid the door back shut, softly as he could, before rising to return to the table. The light emanating from the kitchen beckoned him back like a vessel to the land after days of traversing a cold, bitter sea. 

Kyojuro entered once again to see his little brother and you inspect slices of the meat back and forth, before putting a few on a plate with an exceptionally large scoop of sweet potato rice. Senjuro presented the plate to him, his eyes shining with anticipation. 

“We’ve decided these are the best pieces of meat, here!”

You nod in agreement beside Senjuro, a smile curling your lips. “For me? Ah! Thank you!” Kyojuro beamed at them, taking the plate from his brother. The juicy pieces making his mouth water at the sight alone. Chatter, warm laughter over trivial things, the sight almost felt like a dream he would be shaken from at any minute. He cannot remember a time in so long the Rengoku household had felt alive, for so long it had been just him and Senjuro. Well, that was not quite accurate, they were not “alone” necessarily. 

 “It appears Father is not hungry at the moment, let us just put some aside for him for now.” Outfitting the unattended plate with a generous serving of food, he waited until you and his brother were distracted when he transferred the tender slices of meat from his own plate.

“Father does not eat nearly well enough. Perhaps this would benefit his health.” He thought silently to himself.

—————————————

You understood how things worked around here now. You had stopped feeling like a stranger around the estate. Senjuro seemed to really trust you now, especially seeing his idol did too. You abandoned the thought that the father of the house would be much of a presence, he didn’t want to be bothered, and frankly you were okay with that. 

Your job appearing as a member of the Rengoku family was in full effect. Of course, Kyojuro tried to make sure you were comfortable and happy, despite his duty keeping him busy. You sensed the guilt that creased his brow whenever he couldn’t see you, and made a conscious effort to make up for it when he did. You became aware of an annual festival to celebrate the transition of seasons, the late Spring entering early Summer. 

The next day, during one of Senjuro’s increasingly regular conversations with you, he brought up something that took you back for a moment. “About the festival tonight, I told my brother not to worry about me this year.” 

You were slightly taken aback by this, wasn’t it their yearly tradition? “I  think you both should go and have some time together. After all, I've had plenty of turns to go alone with my brother, since this would be your first time going. I insist.” 

Senjuro seemed sure of himself on this, you could guess he was trying to be an understanding brother and give Kyojuro some alone time with you. But you almost wanted Senjuro to go, it sounded silly, but this would be your first real date with your husband. 

Aas day waned into night you felt butterflies in your stomach while getting ready to go. You felt as if you would have to meet Kyojuro for the first time all over again. A whole night, just the two of you with no one to break the tension. 

You robe yourself in something presentable. Subconsciously you wondered what you could wear if you really wanted to catch his attention… You push it from your mind for now. You carefully remove the gifted hairpin from the rectangular box that housed it before sliding it into your hair.  Your hand moves down from your updo as you glance in the mirror, and suddenly you feel a jolt of shock upon hearing the upbeat voice you’ve grown to know approaching. 

You feel a soft tap on the sliding shoji door to your room. You rose and moved to open it. As your eyes met Kyojuro’s he beamed with a grin so infectious you couldn’t help but softly smile back. You noticed he was dressed differently than you usually saw him. Rather than his typical corps uniform, he was clad in traditional attire with a few fiery motifs reminiscent of his usual haori. You tried not to let your eyes drift down from his to rest on where the two halves of the fabric overlapped each other to reveal the upper curvature of his well built chest. 

You approached the village center where the festival was being held together. There was an overwhelming buzzing ambiance as you approached, until you were close enough for a surge of stimulation to fully wash over you in a barrage of color and noise. 

Worrying that you may be overwhelmed by the sight, Kyojuro turned to look at your reaction. The lights reflected in your eyes as you giggle “How beautiful,” slightly tightening your grip on his arm. Kyojuro wants to say the same, even though his gaze wasn’t on the view. 

You walk by the stalls, each with a different delicacy to boast. The air is thick with the enticing aromas of grilled yakitori, sweet candied fruits, and the savory scent of meat sizzling on hot griddles. Colorful lanterns sway gently overhead, casting a warm glow over the main strip. Laughter and chatter fill the atmosphere, punctuated by the rhythmic beats of nearby taiko drums.

“This has always been my favorite part of the festivities. One year my family lost me in the crowds many years ago when I ran off, practically disappearing, after getting a whiff of shrimp tempura.” As you walked through the bustling streets together, the sounds of laughter and cheerful chatter surrounded, adults and children alike filling the street.

“I have been told I was a bit of a rambunctious child, always bursting with energy, but my mother was a remarkably stoic woman. I never saw her lose her temper, not even once. My father suggested tying my wrist to his with an obi sash after the time I went missing, but she was firm in me practicing discipline on my own.” Kyojuro said, his gaze drifting thoughtfully toward the colorful stalls.

You took a moment to reflect on his words, letting them linger in the air between you. “It sounds like she had a lot of faith in you, to be able to make the right decisions, even then.”

 “She did.” Kyojuro nodded, a hint of warmth returning to his wistful expression. “I try to remember that, even now.” He paused, a smile widening as he glanced toward a nearby takoyaki stall. “And speaking of good decisions…”

Feeling your nose perk up at a savory aroma, your stomach rumbled.  “Can we get some?” You say looking at him wide eyed with enthusiasm. His melodic laugh rang out as he replied “A fine idea! Anything you would like, dear!” After securing ample snacks and refreshments, Kyojuro and you find a nice place to sit down just off the bustling Main Street. 

The night peaceful, and the sky a clear endless expanse of stars. This was contrasted by the steady vibration of energy emitted from the heart of the village. You finally cut the silence. “Thank you for inviting me” you say somewhat sheepishly.  “We have gone every year since before Senjuro was born, so of course that includes you now! I’m glad you’re here!” 

“Is your father,” you pause to gauge his reaction at the mention before continuing, “Busy perhaps today then?” 

His usual bravado lowers into a more serious tone, a poignant smile still forced on his lips, “No. He actually hasn’t been in many years.” Despite not knowing all that much about the inner dynamics of the Rengoku family, this didn’t surprise you. “After Mother passed, I don’t think he ever recovered. He hasn’t come since.” That explains it then. The drinking, the bitterness, the isolation, he was caught in a cycle of grief. One he hasn’t been able to get out of. Instinctively, you place your hand gently on top of his much larger one. 

“Senjuro was so young when we last all came together, and I just wanted him to have the memories that I was able to have. Even if he wasn’t able to remember coming with our parents. He could at least remember us going together, and I hoped maybe that would be enough.” You had never seen this kind of vulnerability from him before. At a young age, he devoted himself to filling the gaping void left in his family for his brother. 

He would become mother, father, mentor, brother, whatever Senjuro needed. Never concerned for himself, or asking for anything. That was just the way he was, you suppose. A man who lived for the well being of others, never expecting anyone to ever reciprocate. A true pillar in all facets of life, one who exists to support and safeguard those around him. What about you? You want to ask. Who is there for you then? 

Noticing your pensive expression, his lips spread into a genuine smile, an upbeat yet gentle voice reassures “You shouldn’t lose your smile my flame, it’s quite becoming on you.” He tucks a small piece of your bangs behind your ear as he speaks, his touch tender. “Please do not feel any sympathy on my behalf, this is simply a responsibility of mine that I carry with pride. The last thing I would ever want is to be the reason you wear a heavy heart. To me, that would be a failure on my behalf.” 

“No, that’s not it.” Your tone matter-of-fact as your gaze shifted from his to your hands folded in your lap. Meeting his eyes again, you spoke with purpose, a firmness in your resolve. “Whether you want  me to or not, I’m going to be there for you now. So, please take care of yourself, unless you want me to worry.” Kyojuro let out the euphonious laugh that you had learned to identify even when he was nowhere to be seen. He replied with a cheerful, “Well I suppose I’ll have to be on my best behavior then!” You couldn’t help but giggle along in contagion with him, it was impossible not to. 

Hearing a whistling noise overhead, you cock your head to the night sky where the projectile reached a peak before bursting in a flurry of vibrant hues followed by a loud BANG. You wince slightly at the collapse of sound that hits you all at once. Kyojuro’s brow furrowed seeing your face contort from the impact. 

Despite having severely impaired his own hearing to withstand a blood demon art that weaponized music in his early days in the Demon Slayer Corps, Kyojuro remained acutely aware of others’s sensitivity to noise—even if he was incapable of experiencing it himself anymore. 

Instinctively, he clasps his hands over your ears, a protective gesture to shield you from the cacophony of pops and cracks exploding in the sky. Slightly surprised, your fingertips grace the rough exterior of Kyojuro’s hands on the sides of your head. 

As you begin to move his hands away, turning to face him, you catch the look in his eyes—a mix of concern and curiosity. Looking at you wide eyed, matching your look of surprise, he asked point blankly “Is it too loud?” His voice earnest, searching your expression for reassurance.

“No, I’m alright.” you say with a soft smile.

“Do you… ever think that I am too loud?” His expression remains unchanged, but there’s a hint of vulnerability in his question. You pause for a moment, considering his words. “No,” you reply, your voice steady and confident. “I like how self-assured you speak. It puts me at ease when I hear you; it makes me feel like I can trust whatever you say, unequivocally.”

In a quick attempt to distract you from the color that hadn’t left his cheeks for the past moments, he looked away, quickly directing your attention back to the light show. 

“Look, my flame!” he exclaimed, his signature cheerfulness radiating from him, you raise your head to the sky, letting your eyes fall upon the illuminating bursts of color. Despite the brilliance of the fireworks dancing across the sky, you feel your head become heavy and your gaze flicker as you struggle to keep your eyes open. You can do little to stop yourself from swaying, beginning to nod off. 

Kyojuro’s gaze falters from the display bursting through the darkness upon noticing, moving you to the side of his chest for support. You feel a gentle touch embrace you, lightly stroking your hair as you subconsciously nestle against the unknown surface you found yourself resting against. Kyojuro was convinced you must’ve been an angel how peaceful you looked with the way the man-made supernova above you flashes across your features, like an ever-changing watercolor on your skin. 

You slowly lift your gaze, opening your eyes to meet his own ambered orbs, still flushed against him as if it was where you had belonged all along. Like puzzle pieces perfectly fitting together. Looking up at him, doey eyes, for the first time Rengoku Kyojuro found himself truly speechless. 

You clear the haze from your mind and attempt to rouse yourself up. But you didn’t want to remove yourself from the security of the warmth emanating off him. Not yet. You wished you could just lay there, as long as you possibly could. 

You felt as though he could see every one of your thoughts with how intently his golden irises pierced yours, with more affection than you thought possible for a person to muster. 

“Would you allow me to kiss you?” There is a tremble of fear of rejection in his voice, and you finally notice the rosy blush crossing his cheeks as he looks at you longingly, clearly enraptured. “Please” you reply softly. 

Feeling a hand brush against your cheek, your chin was gently raised as Kyojuro pulled you closer. You felt a spark ignite at where your lips joined and a surge of electricity rush through from where you connected. 

You feel his hand shift from your jawline to the side of your face where you were sure he could feel the heat of your cheeks. You ran your fingers through the thick sunkissed locks of his hair, and at that moment you felt your frozen exterior melt. 

The frigid ice that you encased yourself in a desperate attempt of self preservation, felt all but liquified now. All those painful feelings. There was no way to avoid the reality in your mind. Your own family considering you as no more than a bargaining chip, and giving you away as soon as you reached child bearing age. 

That realization created the cold front you manufactured. Even if it kept you detached from the rest of the world, you didn’t want to feel the ache of abandonment or desertion again. Even as you resisted, you couldn’t help but open yourself up in that moment to the radiant warmth that Kyojuro gave off. But you knew this meant now you were vulnerable to succumb to the blaze between you two, you might even be consumed by it. 

“A-Are you ready to go home my love.” Something you hadn’t heard him call you, ever. You nod your head in response as you continue to cling to him for support. The fatigue clouds your mind so much so that you hardly even notice what he calls you. But you could practically feel just that, what he called you.               

—————————————

A harsh WHACK echoed from the impact of carefully placed hits. Kyojuro’s wooden training stick sharply hitting the solid log propped before him, a staple of training sessions for any swordsman, pillars being no exception. Kyojuro continued hitting the same spots on the log over and over with increasing speed and power, hardly even acknowledging the Sound Hashira leaning against the wall feet away from him.

“You haven't given me a pep talk, or even barked at me to stop screwing around and start 'surpassing my limits’ and all that” he snickered blithely “so what the hell is on your mind.” 

Kyojuro stopped his incessant striking. His rough hands wiping a bead of sweat from rolling down his forehead, raking back loose strands of honey-golden hair before turning to his self proclaimed “flamboyant” but incredibly nosy dear friend. He looked blankly for a moment, clearly gathering his thoughts before speaking. 

“Don’t make that face, you look like Tomioka.” He chuckled, shaking his head with thinly veiled disgust. “Shit, man, I haven't seen you like this before.” Uzui said, inspecting his multicolored fingernails feigning disinterest, despite his probing. 

“Usually you're the type you can hear before you see. Now I have to pry a single word out of you.” 

Kyojuro shook his head with a laugh “Come now. I’m the same as I’ve always been. I just don’t know if I ought to share what I’m thinking of, out of discretion for the person.”

Taking a wry smirk upon his face, the fellow hashira’s eyebrow raised slyly “So, what did you do to her?” 

Despite being three years Kyojuro’s senior, Uzui had a penchant for regressing into a teenager both in impudence and coarseness. Much in contrast to Kyojuro, typically assuming a role more mature than his years. 

“So I…” Kyojuro was interrupted by Uzui slinging a large arm, resembling that of a bear’s around his shoulders. “Aw you finally had your first time, huh? Was it good? I was starting to worry you two would blush and fist bump forever...” 

“I kissed her,” Kyojuro said in a self-satisfied tone. 

Uzui went silent for a moment before letting out a thunderous laugh, Kyojuro maintaining his expression of complete seriousness. “With a wife that looks like her? You’re a strong man, Rengoku. I probably would’ve gone crazy by now.” 

Kyojuro’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You disrespect both her and yourself by talking like some kind of fiend, Uzui,” Kyojuro replied, crossing his arms like a disappointed father. 

Uzui sighed petulantly, taking a step back with his hands up as if in surrender. “You’re right, you’re right, my bad. A kiss is still a first for you, so congratulations.” 

“You do what you want, I just wonder why you waited until you were hitched to get any kind of a woman’s touch in the first place. I could’ve introduced you to so many girls over the years.” Uzui spoke bluntly.

Kyojuro held his arms straight out in front of him before executing the first four forms of Flame Breathing in rapid succession, deepening the existing divots marking the sides of the log. Looking over again with a bright smile, he answered “I suppose I’ve never felt tempted by the idea of a woman I do not love.” 

Uzui replaced his impish visage with one of sincerity reading between the lines of his friend’s remark. “So now it’s all different, huh? You really love her don’t you?” 

Kyojuro’s eyes dilated noticeably, his face overflowing with gratitude. “I always planned on making anyone who became my wife happy, but nothing is so simple anymore.”

“All that has faded away now, I cannot think of her as something as superficial as that. I just want her as purely as a man could. I do not think I could be without her if I tried.” The confidence in his voice eliminates any doubt when answering the question. 

“I just hope she feels the same for me, even if nothing more than a fraction…” Kyojuro’s voice trailed off.

Uzui chuckles, dragging his palms over his face dramatically with a groan, “Ugghhh. Just don’t get all mushy on me. I still need someone who can match my flash!” 

Uzui donned a smirk once again before adding “Albeit barely!”

Kyojuro ran a hand through his thick blazing hair with his unmistakable laugh, “Ha! Of course. If you’re going to keep up with me, you had better stop idling now Uzui.” Kyojuro said, gesturing over with his practice stick. 

—————————————

As time passed, the heat intensified. With that, you found the only time it was pleasant for a breath of fresh air was as dusk fell.The plum blossoms that littered the estate upon your arrival had all but withered, and in their stead, small tender buds were maturing into fruit. 

Even as the daylight waned, the heat clung to the air like a lingering embrace. The sky was a watercolor painting with streaks of saffron and rose fading into a deeper purple. The hued sky served as a grim warning for humans, and you made your way back to the gates with purpose. 

A bead of sweat trickled down your brow, raking through the tussle of your hair, you freeze at the missing sensation of the stiff yet delicate gifted hairpin. You run your hands over your clothes and run your fingers through your hair once again to ensure what you already suspected, it was gone. 

Using the remaining embers of the sun, you retrace your footsteps back down the path. The veil of night had fallen, but the moonlight made visibility no problem. It would only take a moment to search… 

You recede from the gates in your sights trepidatiously, meandering the path with eyes at your feet. You were vehemently hoping to find the hairpin as quickly as you could. It was no doubt expensive, and you couldn’t shake how rotten you felt that you so carelessly lost it. After some pacing, you finally spy what you had been looking for. A little dirty, but undamaged. You blow some of the debris off before returning to where you ought to be at this time. 

Your blood runs cold hearing stirring from somewhere around you, something is wrong. Are you being watched? You feel your heartbeat in your throat. It couldn’t possibly be what you feared. You try to take a breath but your lungs become shallow, unable to take in air. Afraid of making any sudden movement, your eyes darted around your surroundings for anything. 

You instinctually jump with a yelp upon hearing a raucous CAW cut through the obscurity of the darkness and your own panic. A kasugai crow? You see the silhouette of the dark bird darting into the distance in the blink of an eye. Why had it flown off so urgently? Where could it be going? You dismiss such questions as you feel your muscles free from tension with a deep exhale. You feel your heart rate coming down to its normal pace with your nerves stilling. You continue walking down the path to return to the house, moving with haste before your luck could run out. 

You are filled with the warmth of familiarity as you are but meters from the gates, when suddenly you feel a talloned grip of a murderous creature grab your left wrist yanking you back with such force you nearly bite your tongue. Time nearly stops as you turn your head and gaze upon the monster that wants nothing more than to feast on your flesh. You shriek in terror at the sight, two horrible red beady eyes, scaly white skin, and rows of razor sharp fangs. No doubt about it. A demon. 

Doing whatever you could possibly think of to free yourself from the death grip of the beast, you firmly clutch the hairpin in your right hand. Using the breakneck momentum sending you throat first hurling towards the abomination, you dig the metal accessory deep in its eye. 

The hair pin was left buried in its face. The creature howled in agony, throwing you to the ground as if you were weightless. Your ears ring and you feel warmth beginning to seep from your lower lip at the impact, but you know you’ve only bought yourself a few crucial seconds to get distance from the bloodthirsty monster. 

You rake the ground with your fingertips attempting to force yourself to your feet before stumbling down again. Horror and pain manifesting in your body at last, leaving you frozen in shock. You turn your head upon hearing the shrill screeches of pain turn to aggression once again. Its eye had already regenerated completely. 

The hairpin left a crumbled wire on the ground beside the beast. You can’t outrun this thing. If you turn from it again you’re dead for sure. Beads of crimson blood trickled from your lip, the metallic taste ripe in your mouth causing you to spit instinctually. The demon came lunging at you again, its speed and agility unreal as it launched from where it stood. 

You braced yourself for the inevitable when you saw a blur of motion, a burst of blazing  power. It was as if a fierce, explosive flame had ignited out of nowhere. Suddenly, you heard a pathetic plop as the demon’s decapitated head fell to the ground, disintegrating into ash. 

The creature didn’t even know what happened before it was slain with ease, in the blink of an eye. Standing firmly, with a presence exuding both fortitude and finesse, a figure appeared in front of you. The unforgettable haori of the Flame Hashira draped over the shoulders of your rescuer. 

In a fluid motion, Kyojuro thrusted the garnet blade out to the side, the demon blood shirking off cleanly. Then, lining the katana’s edge up with the sheath, he slid it into the wooden saya with a resounding click. He kneeled to your eye line, your breathing still ragged and uneven. 

He lifted a hand to your face, almost as if to ground himself. You feel his palm tremble against your cheek. You hold your own hand on his, stilling the involuntary tremor. Feeling the warmth of your skin against his, he quieted the panicked white noise in his mind. 

You looked in shock, but miraculously, mostly unharmed. Save for the blood dripping from your mouth down to your chin. He lightly swiped his thumb over your bottom lip in an attempt to wipe the blood from your face, the traces of what was nearly his greatest failure.

His mind went back to images of a distant past. She coughed blood as well. Mother.

When it became harder for her to move, he stood at her bedside wiping the red fluid from her lips as her chronic illness advanced. Around that time, the father he looked up to that was once full of passion seemed to forget he and Senjuro even existed, seemingly grieving the loss of his beloved wife already. When the day came she was unable to breathe anymore, she passed in the night, without anyone even getting a chance to say goodbye. And with that, whatever was left of the Rengoku “family” shattered. 

“Mother has gone to heaven...” 

The words felt like tons of lead hanging in the air when he broke the news to his younger brother the next day. As much as he wanted to scream, cry out, ask someone—anyone—why. Why did a gentle woman like her have to suffer to the very end without anyone even there when her body finally gave out? Why did father drink himself into a perpetual stupor? But he knew he couldn’t. Watching little Senjuro, barely four years of age, clinging to his arm, sobbing, he knew the last thing he could do was crumble. He had to be strong. Not just for himself, but for everyone. Strong enough to protect them all.

He winced at the thought of what could’ve happened if he followed the standard procedure of pillars on standby, and spent tonight fast asleep and blissfully unaware. 

“If I only got here a few minutes sooner. Did that thing touch you anywhere else?” His eyes remained steady and solemn on your sole injury, still holding your chin between his index finger and thumb. 

Your chest tightened seeing the look on his face, both shame and concern. You told him you would try to lessen the burden he felt. What an empty platitude you’d spewed that night. 

“I-I’m alright… really, the Earth did me more damage than it did.” You knew he would only consider it as a personal ineptitude if the very being he swore to annihilate managed to do any degree of injury to you. Even with your futile attempt to ease the concern and remorse, no doubt digging deeper into his skin than any claw of a demon, his countenance was drawn thin. The man who you knew to burn with unwavering sanguinity, was reduced to a flicker of uncertainty at the sight before him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to worry about me, you already worry about everyone. I don’t want to be a burden or another thing hanging on your mind. And I broke my hairpin. I’m sor-” Your near hysterical drabble was abruptly cut off by Kyojuro pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around you as if to create a protective cocoon to keep you from harm henceforth, tenderly holding your head like a lifeline. 

“Do not apologize. I won’t allow it. I am your husband… so just this once, please, you must obey me. I won’t let you apologize for anything.” His voice wracked with tremors, the usual self-assuredness cracking beneath the weight of everything.

“Even if you apologize for it, you will not leave my mind. It’s not possible. But it’s not because you’re a burden. You’ve never been a burden. Never.” He forcibly regained his composure, wiping a tear that had escaped to run down your cheek. Still holding your face so that he could take it in its entirety, sear each feature into his mind if he could. His lips curled back into a smile, one that he hoped you would mirror back at him. 

Despite your insistence you were practically unscathed, Kyojuro insisted on carrying you back to the house. With careful hands, he lifted you effortlessly, as if you weighed no more than a feather. You could feel the heat radiating from him, if you didn’t know better you might’ve thought he was feverish. 

“Warm” you think to yourself, he really was always so warm.

—————————————

The morning light filtered into the room like flecks of gold, but he paid no mind to it. He had been awake before dawn anyway. Unable to shake the feeling of a taint sticking to his skin like a film of filth. What had happened hours earlier, a blur of fangs, debris, shadows, and sanguine hued splatters. 

He moved deliberately, as to not awaken you so early in the other room. Clamping a fabric tie between his teeth, he lifted his arms to gather the amber strands of his hair, his shoulders flexed, corded muscles shifting smoothly beneath his skin. Before dexterously pulling through and fastening his usual ponytail with one hand. 

Next, he inspected the condition of the white haori accented with red and yellow left carefully folded across the room. Scanning it, running his hands over it, he ensured the prized heirloom wasn’t soiled as he did each time he worked. He was meticulous about his corps uniform, never did he allow it to look  creased, disheveled, or unprofessional. But the most important piece of the ensemble was his haori. 

Passed down from generation to generation, the garment was a symbol of the house Rengoku going back to the Sengoku era, precious, and only be to worn by the current Flame Hashira.The kaen pattern was a sacred motif that served as both a beacon of light to those in need of salvation, as well as a searing warning to evil. The privilege of donning it was not one to be taken lightly. He most literally carried the long legacy of Flame Breathing on his shoulders. 

With that legacy came an unyielding duty. Every hashira had a sector they were responsible for protecting, mainly by remaining vigilant for anything suspicious that could be related to demonic movements. Weak demons were much like mindless animals, prowling the night haphazardly seeking human flesh to feast on. 

They were easy to both find and slay. On the other hand, powerful demons were intelligent, sinister. They spun elaborate webs, even employing humans or feigning humanity themselves to strategically ensnare unsuspecting victims to devour, only to then return to the shadows and repeat the cycle again and again. 

In recent days, Kyojuro knew something was horribly awry in his district. Forty passengers and a small platoon of demon slayers did not simply vanish from their seats halfway through a train ride. And just as that same “man-eating train” was to return to the rails, a demon dubbed “The Slasher” doing absolutely nothing to conceal itself, suddenly begins wreaking havoc? A distraction, no doubt. 

There was a foreboding bitterness in the air of something horrific to come, a phase two of this calculated plot. A twelve kizuki, perhaps even an upper rank, was lying in wait. Reporting his findings to the Master, Kyojuro was officially dispatched, and to board the Mugen Train at dusk in two days time. 

It was standard procedure for the pillars to have a short period to arrange preparations and fully rest before the ordeal to come when assigned a mission from the Master himself; he had not been personally sent by the Master on a mission more than but a few times in his career. 

When a hashira was sent at all, it was a signifier as to the direness and expected peril of the situation. A code red emergency. It was a necessity for anyone attending such a high stakes operation to be both mentally and physically at their pinnacle, a few nights of leaving patrol to the sector’s subordinate kinoe and kinoto battalions was in the best interests of all. Even a pillar is only human after all. 

He was no stranger to any of this, he had been on countless missions, even eliminating the twelve kizuki was something he knew he was capable of doing. He usually did follow the expectation of a brief rest period, but he was under no real obligation to. No one, not even the wise Master, would try to convince a pillar of their own physical threshold if one continued duties anyway. 

Images of ruby droplets dripping down your lip played in his mind on loop. It stirred something fierce in him, something that made any prospect of fatigue irrelevant. You had been so close to becoming another victim, another statistic of demonic cruelty. His jaw tightened at such a thought. Was respite a luxury he could afford? 

The Slasher was known for its speed; just last night, several crows reported sightings from different towns in a span of a few minutes. He could not let the beast stay on the prowl another night. He would eliminate it now if he could. He could not entrust its defeat to another slayer, or even another pillar. 

The sightings had been too close to the estate; he wanted to track and dispose of it himself. He would never forgive himself if he stood idly by waiting for the Master’s order to board the Mugen Train, and something happened to someone he cared about again. Every fiber of his being screamed to act, to protect, unwilling to afford to think of anything else right now—not even the impending mission.

All his pursuits of strength, in an attempt to fulfill his promise, no, his duty not just to Mother, but to everyone he was capable of defending. Was it all for naught? He could not succumb to the trap of self satisfaction. Continue. Onward. There had to be more he could do, more who he could protect. A pillar is an immovable object to support all that rests upon it, and he would be the same. Solidified with an overwhelming passion. A couple of sleepless nights should be nothing to inhibit a hashira, right? He just needed to push himself harder.

“Please take care of yourself, unless you want me to worry” 

A softer image of you enters his mind. Warm lantern light reflecting from your face, cheeks dusted with a rosy hue, and a wistful smile. Your echoes in his mind, almost hauntingly so. Your voice is saccharine like honey, and your words even more so. 

He began slipping into his usual uniform attire, each button latched a manifestation of his ironclad resolve. He would investigate the Slasher incidents even if it took the next two day, and dispose of it. He would try to stop home for a quick goodbye, then straight away mount the Mugen Train next. 

You would have to find it in your heart to excuse what he was planning to do. He slid the shoji open a crack large enough to peer inside. He looked in on you, peacefully asleep. The sunlight, a golden cascade against your skin. It may have well cast a halo upon you, the way you look positively ethereal. Whispering in a voice uncharacteristically low as to not cut through the tranquil, he uttered solemnly:

“Please, forgive me…”

—————————————

The cicadas chirped with the evening upon them, the warm air sat like a blanket over the Earth, with barely any breeze. With the company of the youngest Rengoku, you sat on the back porch of the house. Time moved slow, seemingly not even at all, like they were suspended in placidity, or maybe even monotony. 

“Is it normal for pillars to be sent out for over two days straight?” You ask the young boy next to you.

“No,” he replied with certainty “They are the most valuable assets of the entire corps. Only to be dispatched when all logistics and reconnaissance is done, and they need someone to finish off the threat itself. Or perhaps if there is a devastating emergency or something, but even then.”

You nod, expressing understanding. “Brother likes to be involved every step of the way though, he likes enforcing that every position in the corps is equally essential, including hashira” Senjuro can’t hide his starry-eyed look at the mere mention of his idol. 

You hum amusedly, how had you forgotten? You can picture him now, tirelessly ensuring that every corps member feels valued, regardless of rank or whether they wield a sword or simply provide support.

You can’t help but acknowledge how characteristic that kind of mindset was. That man really takes every opportunity to work as hard as humanly possible to set an example for others. 

“You think he will send a crow soon?” Despite Senjuro’s steady tone and demeanor, you see his lip quivering. 

“He always comes straight here as soon as he can, I’m sure he will be back by tomorrow morning at the latest.” You steel yourself, speaking confidently and self assured, smiling back at Senjuro. 

“That’s what Kyojuro would do.” You think to yourself. 

“W-would you come with me to our Mother’s altar?” Senjuro looked at you, concern still wrought into his features. 

“Oh, uh sure.” You had yet to see where the late lady of the house was laid to rest, or the shrine that served as a physical memory of her within the home. The right occasion just hadn’t come up. 

Maybe you remembered seeing her when you were a child the day you were promised to the Rengoku family? You can vaguely recall a beautiful measured woman with long, dark hair, in every manner down to how she breathed she exuded elegance and poise. Judging by how many years ago that was, Senjuro probably remembers her about as much as you do. 

Regardless of that, her spirit was likened to that of an angelic being. Either serving as a fond memory of simpler times, or a bitter reminder of when life was worth living for all those who once loved her.

The boy rose to his feet beckoning you to follow him, taking a stick of incense before leading you into a small room.

 Adorning the tiered altar were chrysanthemums and fine silks, leading to a portrait with an inscription beneath reading “Rengoku Ruka: Beloved Wife and Mother.” Her deep crimson eyes reflected a patience extending infinitely, steadily taking in all they surveyed. 

“Someone already lit incense?” You say gesturing to the aromatic as it sat already burning, concentrated sake poured into an ornate ceremonial ochoko beside it. It looked as if the offering had been left earlier that same day. 

“There’s never any incense here when my brother is gone.” Senjuro frowned at the untouched stick in his own hand. “There’s a bit of an old school tradition he told me about from The Flame Hashira Chronicles talking about pillars lighting incense for each other when they are sent into the field for an extended period, kind of as a way of praying for their safety. I’m not sure if the current pillars still believe in it, but my brother definitely does. He really tries his best to follow the ways of previous generations of hashira.” 

You wondered why such a ritual was getting phased out, perhaps it was just considered archaic? You were no elite swordsman yourself, but it only made sense in your mind. The longer they are forced to continue fighting, the more difficult the mission becomes as they slowly fatigue. They deserve all the support from their fellow pillars in that case.

Senjuro sighed, “I figured he would like it if we followed that custom and lit some for his protection, just in case none of his comrades did it for him.”

As much as you were sure Kyojuro would be touched by you and Senjuro wanting to burn incense for him, your heart bled at the thought of being the only ones to do so. However, clearly there was someone else in the house who showed concern and solidarity for his endeavor…

“Well, I guess we won’t have to.” You assure Senjuro in an attempt to ease his disappointment. You could tell he wanted to be the one to ask Ruka’s spirit for guardianship and watchfulness over his brother. Nevertheless, you both kneeled on the zabuton cushion before the altar, your hands both folded reverently. 

“Please Mother, keep brother from harm. Please guide him home when he is victorious over the demons.” 

You shut your eyes while listening to Senjuro’s plea, feeling your breath shallow with worry hearing his words. You hadn’t said it to each other yet, but there it was. You and Senjuro both had considered the possibility of something dreadful, even as hard as you tried not to. You found yourself imploring as well. 

“Please Ruka-san…  watch over him.”

—————————————

He looked over his shoulder at the younger slayer incapacitated on the ground, and the civilians of the Mugen Train as they attempted to recover from the aftermath of the locomotive going off the rails. 

The tattooed demon seemed in a state of bliss at the sensation of his blade slicing its body, as if it was in a state of bliss from the adrenaline of battle. The slashes closed as quickly as he created them, his enemy standing unharmed. “You still don’t get it? That if you continue attacking, you’re just getting closer to death, Kyojuro?” 

Blood obscured his left eye to the point he couldn’t even see out of it. He felt sharp splinters of rib bone against his side, nearly making him dizzy from the pain. He tightened his core to do whatever he could to prevent the fragments from puncturing his vitals from within. He could not falter now. Not when over 200 lives hung in the balance. Firming his resolve, he gripped his blade with a vice. 

The final and most powerful form of Flame Breathing was a Rengoku family secret technique. A mystery to demons and swordsmen alike. There were no records of an enemy living to tell the tale once it was wielded, even tsuguko hailing from outside the family were only told of eight forms in existence. 

No matter how many centuries the monster known as Upper Moon 3 had lived, he could not possibly know of this move if he had never encountered a Flame Hashira before, as he had previously boasted.

This creature was not a demon, he was a calamity. A being only devoted to destruction. One that needed to be taken down here and now. This was his last chance, even if all he could do was trap the demon in place until dawn. He had to use it, the penultimate stance of Flame Breathing. A form that could only be described as using mind, body, very soul as kerosene and setting one alight to burn, burn!

“Flame Breathing Esoteric Art, Ninth Form: Rengoku!”

Taking off full speed, the rest of the world fragmenting into oblivion as his vision darkened at the edges. His only focus was striking with as much speed and power as he possibly could. A burning ferocity went ripping through every nerve ending, focusing every ounce of strength from everything down to each individual cell, to a single objective. 

His opponent’s face lit up with ecstasy, cackling in a fit of twisted delight. “Now you must become a demon! We could continue to duel each other for the rest of eternity!”

The ground shook at both forces of nature colliding, all the pain reaching a threshold in his body that it became numb at once. He entered a dreamlike state. As if he was no longer in control of his own body, the righteous fury from within was overflowing to move him without thinking. It was only when the beast launched himself into the air, both arms ripped that he understood what had happened as they stood in a deadlock. Feeling his muscles finally give, he fell to his knees. Everything went white, the overwhelming silence gripping him in place. It was as if he was suspended in the crossroads of reality and time. 

He sat kneeling in a maroon yukata. The familiar tatami floors he had known all his life beneath him. He was home? He looked down his lap to see the calloused, hardened palms he had acquired over years of combat were replaced with small, soft hands of a child. 

Lifting his head from the ground, his breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. Serene ruby eyes met his gaze, complemented by the same sage countenance he had once known. 

“Mother? Did I… did I do right by you? My duty… being strong... Did I fail?” 

Her expression remained calm, the picture of composure, even now, embodying the quiet strength that had always defined her. “Kyojuro,” she spoke, her voice flowing like a babbling brook, soothing and reassuring. “You have never failed.”

“Why… Why can’t I embrace you Mother?” He was moving in slow motion, the harder he strained to reach her, the more resistance he felt on his body. What was this place?

“That is because it's not time. You are not finished yet. You promised to see your duty fulfilled, so fulfill it.” She continued, her eternally stoic gaze softened. “I’m so proud of you, my son.”

part two here

[prettyoatmeal]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons While You're Dating

I figured this would be kinda cute since I've only written for König. Switching it up just a little bit since I think the 141 boys are cuties <3

I know this is quite long too, I'm sorry I had a lot of thoughts I wanted to get out!!!!!

There will be both SFW and NSFW with a GN reader (they/them pronouns) ^^ Enjoy!

GENRE: Fluff, smut after NSFW cut

WARNINGS: Mentions of Ghost's childhood

Masterlist here!

***************

You'd needed to be the one to tell him how you'd felt first. Simon wasn't one to open up about his emotions and mostly tried to ignore and bottle up his feelings, so he never would've been able to gain that courage to tell you first.

When you did tell him, he became super flustered behind that mask of his. You normally called him by his alias and never really used his actual name, so he knew what you were going to say would've been serious.

"Hey, Simon? I think I like you. And I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just figured I should tell you sooner than later."

...

"Simon..?"

He would let out a flustered grumble of "Yeah yeah,, I like you too." and you two would slowly, but surely, warm up to each other more.

He'd be a very gentle lover. Just the thought of him hurting you, even by accident, made him violently ill.

Ghost wouldn't be one to be touchy very early on in you guys' relationship, he kept a lot to himself and you respected that. At times you would hold back from trying to hug him, or hold his hand, or anything, but you didn't mind. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable.

He'd soon realised you were the cuddly, touchy type, so he'd begin making moves like wrapping his arm around your waist or linking his pinkie with yours while you were walking. Just those small touches alone would make your knees weak.

Simon faced a lot of trauma in his childhood so he had trouble opening up to you at first. Once he did start opening up to you, he realised he didn't need to ignore his feelings for once. You made him feel safe.

>:'(( he loves you so much.

He'd call you all the usual pet names such as 'my love', 'darling', 'sweetheart', etc.

You'd often be the only thing on his mind when he'd be on missions or back in the barracks.

He'd always keep a printed photograph of you in a pocket somewhere so he could remember who he was fighting for.

When he'd be upset, he'd always pull that photo out just to look at it. Just seeing your face brought him immense comfort.

His love language would definitely be acts of service. He'll gladly cook a nice meal for you, or tell you to sit down and relax so he could take care of the cleaning.

However, it goes both ways. You'll pack him a lunch for the day He'd be on his knees. Make his bed for him if he were to be too busy? He'll completely melt. It's those little things.

His father didn't care all that much for him as a child coming from an abusive household, essentially needing to take care of himself. Having that someone to pack him a lunch and look after him in such a way made him feel loved and safe.

Of course he'd never take his mask off in front of you. He never took it off for anyone, there were no hard feelings. He preferred his anonymity and you are completely okay with it.

You never asked to see him without the mask because

well,

you just didn't. That was his privacy and you weren't one to invade it unless he would offer or if he were to be ready.

You two were both very patient with each other and that helped build a healthy and trustful relationship.

You also didn't mind not knowing what he really looked like. You first fell in love with who he was as a person, not his physical attributes.

When he did show you what he looked like unmasked, it was ironically during a make-out session.

(He low-key planned it out)

"Bloody hell, this thing is getting in the way." He'd say as the balaclava kept slipping down and shielding his lips from yours.

Thats when he finally pulled the felt which covered his features off, taking you by surprise.

The face-paint was still there, but his beautiful features were completely exposed to you.

He definitely got flustered at just how much you were examining his face.

"You look like you've seen a Ghost, darling."

That snapped you out of it, earning a chuckle from you before you two were sucking each others faces off again without that irritation from the fabric.

While nothing was said in the moment, by the time you two were done, you'd already begun to gush about how handsome he looked. You'd cup his face in your hands like he would to you and place kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks, everywhere. He'd just look away in embarrassment.

"Yeah, yeah, take a picture, it'll last longer... PLEASE DON'T-"

The hard, confident Simon you knew became a blushy idiot and you loved it.

He was your Simon

__________________

NSFW

Before you two had any 'alone time' together, he'd always make sure there's a large water bottle or an electrolyte drink on the bedside table because, man, his guy has a lot of stamina and a high sex drive.

He could easily shoot a some loads into you over the course of a couple of hours.

You couldn't count how many times he'd make you cum over those few hours as you'd be a babbling mess by the end of it. No thoughts, just getting dicked down.

He wasn't exactly rough, but definitely not gentle. He'll be pounding into you like it was your last nights together for a while. And yeah, sometimes it was, so you two would need to make the most of it.

He wasn't one to inflict physical pain to you either unless it was the occasional slap on the ass or thighs.

He was one to grab onto you though. He'll grab onto any piece of your body he can.

Doggy? Bent over a table? Riding? He'll be digging his fingers into your fleshy hips.

Steamy make-out session? Or just feeling possessive? He'll gladly grab onto your thighs or wrap his arms around your waist.

The boy loves holding onto you, especially when he's in heat, leaving maybe just a few red marks from him gripping onto you so tightly. Maybe even a few scratch marks.

Missionary would definitely be his favourite position.

He'd be able to stare into that pretty face of yours for eternity if his life depended on it.

Missionary also lets him hold your hand as he pounds you into the mattress. The feeling of you squeezing his hand as tightly as you can while you cum makes him go absolutely feral.

Simon wouldn't make all that much noise in bed. Though when he's feeling desperate, he can't shut himself up. He'll let out soft moans and groans and growls into your ear just to let you know how good you're making him feel.

He also would love seeing your mouth full of his cock. The faces you'd make up at him as it slides down you throat could make him cum instantly.

Moan his name and he will also cum instantly.

"Oh, fuck- Simon~!"

He'll start pounding into you like never before, chasing both of your orgasms.

He’ll always make sure that you’re left satisfied. No point in pounding into you if you’re not going to be enjoying it the entire time.

He'd probably cum a lot too. Thick strands would shoot inside you or into your mouth, struggling to stay inside. He'd probably have a thing for pushing his fingers inside your hole to make sure his cum stays inside you.

He's a top and a soft dom so he'd have a bit of trouble getting used to bottoming and/or subbing. He wouldn't turn it away, not for you. But it would need some getting used to for him.

If he's subbing, you could very easily get him to start begging once he gets lost in the pleasure. Though he'd definitely feel embarrassed after. He's a grown, dominant, military man who engages in the most brutal and gore-y activities. He wouldn't have ever believed himself a couple of years back if the future Simon had told him he'll be begging his partner to let him cum as they jerked him off in the slowest, most torturous way.

If you two hadn't seen each other in a while, he'd be pushing you against the wall in an instant with your thighs on either side of him. He'd be practically begging you again to let him fuck you, and you'd of course let him.

Breeding kink? For sure. He LOVES to cum inside you and fill you up.

"F-Fucking hell, look at you, doll, completely stuffed." He'll say as he cums into you for the third or fourth time that night. Your entire body would for sure be shaking at that point.

Of course he’d be affected by the overstimulation as some point as well, he’d begin stuttering every now and again each time his cock would throb inside you.

He'd slam into you with such force, you'll be sobbing tears of pleasure by the time you two were done.

You'll often become extremely tired from sex from the sheer amount of stamina this man has, it can't be said enough.

This man will gladly take you to your limit, but the moment you show signs of passing out or feeling unwell, he'll stop and make sure you're okay, giving you some water and something to boost your blood sugar so you’re not passing out on him. He's not one to take such advantage of you while you're unconscious, and you respect him a lot for that.

Post-sex includes so much cuddling. He'll apologise for accidentally hurting you or if he was too rough and make sure you're all cleaned up and had water before you two head to bed or for a nap.

Post-morning-sex would include him bringing breakfast to you in bed which you thought was the most adorable thing ever.

Your legs would be jelly by the time you two were done, so just trying to make it to the bathroom would be a whole challenge.

Simon would always either carry you or provide you will that stability, it was sweet. He'd hold onto your waist as tightly as he could to make sure you wouldn't fall while your knees would give in.

He was very buff so it would be pretty easy to keep you from falling to the ground.

He'll make sure you're all squeaky clean, hydrated, and fed before anything else.

He truely was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

***************

I loved writing this so much, I'm about to go scream into my pillow. Goodnight, everyone <3

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[thewertsearch]

pipefan413: The children pledged to each other that one day they would run away together. pipefan413: They followed in the footsteps of the dear colonel, in defiance of the old batterwitch. They studied his every jape, and practiced them in secret!

She could have left, then. Planned to leave, even. Grandpa didn’t abandon her, like I'd originally assumed – he always intended to flee alongside her.

pipefan413: But as they grew older, their interests drifted apart. The boy developed a passion for adventure and put aside his study of practical jokes. He dreamed of wealth and fame and discovery and swore he would wander the world. pipefan413: One day he decided to run away with the loyal dog he inherited from their father. He asked the girl if she would come along, but she was too scared of the retribution that might follow.

But I guess the adolescent Nanna didn’t have Grandpa’s confidence, nor his fearlessness. Left alone with a witch of a woman, her childhood was probably not dissimilar to many other children in this sad saga.

pipefan413: The boy scoffed at the danger, and assured his sister there was nothing to worry about. But he had not seen first hand what the baroness was capable of!

It sounds like Nanna directly witnessed some specific evil act. The woman did run a corporation, though, so that was probably just a typical Tuesday for Betty Crocker.

pipefan413: He told his sister that he believed in her, and that she could handle whatever the witch could throw at her. [...]

Those are some pretty harsh words for a girl destined for a lifetime of abuse - but at the same time, he did openly ask her to run away with him, and she couldn't do it. What was he meant to do, kidnap her?

I don't blame him for leaving alone, either. Grandpa was also an abused child, and it would be asking a lot of him to remain in an abusive household to defend another child. He needed to leave that situation for his sake, just as Nanna needed to leave it for hers.

Pipefan413: [...] And with that, he was off, and she would never see him again.

But, all that said, he should have come back eventually. He didn’t need to abandon her for an entire lifetime.

Whatever extenuating circumstances there may have been, it can't be denied that he started his life as an adventurer the same way he ended it - by leaving someone who loved him behind.

pipefan413: One day, the girl was able to gather enough bravery to mention her brother to the baroness, and her desire to see him again. With contempt, she guaranteed that this could never happen. When the girl asked why, that is when the baroness began to reveal to her more than just her baking secrets. pipefan413: [...] The colonel was not their father, nor was the baroness their mother. They in fact had no father or mother at all, nor were they ever actually born. They had both fallen from the sky! They were not actually brother and sister as they had been told either. Again like in many fairy tales, the truth was that they were always destined to become married one day. They were to have two children, a son and a daughter, and these children were meant to save the world! […]

Wait, what? Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore?

...I think it says quite a lot about the Homestuck experience that I'm not even particularly surprised. Of course Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore.

It’s clear that she didn't know everything, though. She was aware that John and Jade would eventually happen, but assumed they’d be born naturally - which makes it sound like she was just getting fragments of future events, much like a Prospit dreamer’s visions.

...or, like a wielder of the Cueball, which we already know was in her family’s possession. It’s sounding a lot like even Betty fucking Crocker was a Scratch pawn all along.

[annwrites]

⸻ i'm fearless, except when it comes to you. ⸻

· pairing: fezco x bestfriend!reader · type: one-shot · summary: you & fez have been best friends since kindergarten. and eventually, that friendship turns into so much more. · tags: friendship, fwb, falling love, fluff, found family · tw: canon-typical violence, murder, domestic abuse, death, cussing, guns, sex · word count: 8,185

Since you were five-years-old, you and Fezco had been best friends. Practically inseparable. Two halves of a whole.

He’d been your first kiss in kindergarten, and when you were sixteen and he seventeen—your first time.

It'd started out with the two of you lying together on the couch watching a movie, you pressed against his side, his arm around you, which had led to him tickling you on the floor, to him gently moving his hand under your shirt. And then he'd been given your blessing to remove each item of your clothing one-by-one until you were naked before him.

He'd seen you undressed before—more times than he could count—from you just getting out of the shower and raiding his closet for a t-shirt to wear to bed, dropping your towel right in front of him as you dressed, to you trying on clothes in front of him.

Not to mention the summer before, when there'd been a three-day blackout and the apartment had gotten to damn-near a hundred degrees. So the two of you had—through nervous giggles—stripped down naked and hold up in his room, lying on his bed and just talking. For hours.

You'd cursed the power when it came back on.

But this instance had been different. Context mattered. The most intimate thing the two of you had done before this was making out with tongue, his hands never touching any other part of you than your face or hips.

And so the both of you had spent the next fifteen minutes on the floor with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his face between your thighs. When you had finished, him kissing you there a few times, he'd rested his chin on your pelvic bone, smiling up at you.

He'd then gotten up, him taking your hand in his as he led you to his bedroom and the two of you had made love.

He'd been slow, gentle, sweet. His fingers twined between yours, soft kisses shared between the two of you as he eased himself in and out of you, telling you more times than you could count how much he loved you.

You'd cried after, tears of happiness, as he held you in his arms, pressed against his chest.

And that night something permanently shifted between the two of you. What you had, had become so much more than friendship. You couldn't even call it love, because you'd already had that before the sex.

Perhaps falling in love? But you'd already felt that toward him beforehand.

In the end, neither of you felt a need to put a label on what you had, what you were. You loved each other and that was all that mattered.

The two of you were faithful to one another. You didn't even look in another's direction. Your eyes were only for each other.

And you took care of him and he you.

You grew up in a rough household, which was putting it lightly. You showed up to Fez's with fresh bruises fairly regularly, until one day he'd had enough.

Eventually, the day came when he'd put his foot down and told you that you were moving in and that was the end of it. You'd agreed easily.

Fez wasn’t going to tolerate his abusive behavior toward you just on principal, but the fact he’d endured such treatment himself…your dad was lucky that Fez had let him live so long.

So, he'd driven you home, gathered your things—what little you had—loading them all into his car, but just before leaving, your dad had showed up, high as a kite, screaming that you weren't going anywhere.

He'd grabbed you, and hit you right in front of Fezco.

You'd never seen Fez lose his temper before that day. He'd hauled off on your dad, and when he released you, Fez had told you sternly to get in the car and to stay there.

You'd watched, trembling, as he beat your father to a bloody pulp. He'd then grabbed the back of his head by his hair, forcing him to look to the passenger side where you sat and he brought his mouth close to his ear, pointing to you, his top lip in a permanent sneer as he said something to him. Your dad had nodded fervently before Fezco let him go, his face smacking off of the pavement when he did.

He'd then walked around to the driver's side and sped away, holding your hand in his the entire time he drove the two of you back to what was now your new home.

Your hands had been trembling, but not out of fear of him. No, you were never afraid of him.

Rather afraid of your father calling the police on Fez just to get even.

Thankfully, that never happened.

You'd lightly ran the fingers of your opposite hand over his bloodied knuckles and he'd shrugged—reading your mind. "Be alright. He finally got what he had comin'."

That night, you'd showered with him, gently washing the blood from his face, tending to his now-swollen knuckles. He'd told you not to bother, but after, you'd put antibiotic ointment on them, wrapped them in clean bandages, and held a bag of frozen vegetables against them as the two of you lied in bed in silence.

Your being so quiet had made Fez uneasy. You were always talking his ear off—which he adored. But he knew you feared men; understood it. Your father had instilled such a feeling inside of you at a young age.

He'd never forget the one and only time you'd flinched at his touch.

When you were younger, you'd hid it well—your at-home life—but one day, when you were thirteen, the two of you had been hanging out at the shop, and you'd been helping Ash stock shelves. At one point, you'd turned and Fez had been behind you. He'd lifted his hand to grab something off the top shelf and you'd flinched so hard you'd slammed your head into the display, nearly knocking it over.

You'd burst into tears near-instantly, running into the back and locking yourself in the bathroom for nearly an hour.

He'd stood on the other side of that door, fighting back tears himself just from hearing you in so much pain. He'd begged softly for you to please let him in—all he wanted was to hold you—but you'd told him, quietly, that you didn't want to be touched at that moment.

He'd understood, but it had still stung. He wanted to be a safe place for you. A safe person. A safe man.

Once you had finally come out, your eyes and nose both red from crying, you'd slowly looked up to him and his eyes had been full of a feeling you couldn't place. Sympathy? Pity?

You later realized it had been love.

He'd sat you down and you finally told him everything.

He'd never been more angry in his entire life, but he didn't show that to you. Not for a moment. He never ever wanted you afraid of him. Not for one fucking second.

So you lying there next to him, completely silent... He couldn't not do—say—something.

He rolled over, setting the bag of vegetables to the side and he gently caressed your cheek. "I never meant to scare you. 'M sorry if-"

You raised your head up enough to press your lips to his, cutting him off. You kissed him long and deep and he let you, enjoying every moment.

When you pulled away, you gently ran your fingers through the beginnings of a beard that he was trying to grow. "I'm not scared of you."

He'd studied you for a moment, running the fingers of his injured hand through your soft hair, his eyes looking into yours before he finally pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering to you that he loved you before the two of you fell asleep, his body wrapped around your own.

Adjusting to living with Fez hadn't been all that difficult. You already spent nearly every day over there with him and Ash, cleaning, cooking, sometimes decorating. You'd even occasionally buy fresh flowers to put in cheap vases on the windowsill—Fez refusing to throw them out until they were brown and wilting. But you still worried, nonetheless, that he would eventually tire of you; deeming that he'd made a mistake in asking you to live with him.

Hanging out regularly was one thing. Being around each other every waking and non-waking moment of every day something else entirely. And what would Ash think?

Your fears of Ash feeling like you were just barging into he and his brother's home—because that's what the two of them practically were to one another—was put to rest the next morning, with Ash telling you over breakfast that it was "'bout damn time" and that he had apparently told Fez once that the two of them should've "taken your old man out a long time ago" after you showed up with a black eye one night.

Fez had only smirked, shrugging, replying with a "maybe so", brushing his foot against yours under the table.

In truth, it made Ash very happy to see the both of you together—whether you both wanted to call it "being together" or not—he thought it incredibly stupid that the two of you didn't just call yourselves boyfriend and girlfriend.

He'd never say it out loud, but he saw you as a maternal figure, and he was grateful to have you around all the time now. He told Fez it was just so they wouldn't have to worry about where to bury your dad's body anymore, but in reality...clean sheets, freshly-washed clothes, and hot dinners every night were a really nice thing to have. And there'd been that one time you'd taken care of him when he came down with the flu and spent the next three days puking up his fucking guts.

The three of you may've been small and all coming from broken homes, but together you made what felt like one big family.

You didn't mind—never had, really—that Fez was a drug-dealer. He'd talked to you about it a few days after your fully settling in, telling you that you living there was putting you at risk.

It'd been different when you were just there hanging out; if the police busted in, you could easily feign ignorance of his...business ventures.

He made it clear that he wanted you there, but understood if you left because you had some place better to live.

Even if the both of you knew you had nowhere else to go.

He told you if SWAT busted down the door, or he was arrested, you'd go down right alongside him as an accomplice. That no matter how much he may want to, he wouldn't be able to protect you from the cops, especially if he himself were behind bars.

You'd simply climbed into his lap, straddling him, and told him there was nowhere else you'd rather be—risk of arrest notwithstanding.

He loved you for it—loving him despite who and what he was—but the feeling that you deserved better was always there. But if you wanted to be there, he wasn't going to waste his breath trying to convince you otherwise.

Refusing to do so was the most selfish thing he'd probably ever done. Because you were his whole world and he didn't want to lose you. He wanted you there, with him.

Gradually, those lines between best friends and something more—maybe lovers—began to blur.

You'd given each other pecks on the lips before and told each other "love you" numerous times, but those pecks turned into deeper kisses, longer. "Love you" turned into "I love you".

The first time he'd seen you naked had been an accident. You'd just gotten out of the shower and had walked into his room to dress. He'd been unaware you were naked when he had pushed the cracked door open, leaning in the doorway, asking if you wanted to get takeout that night—Ash offering to go pick it up.

He'd froze when he saw you clutching one of his t-shirts to your middle, every inch of your naked frontside visible to him.

It was like his mind had short-circuited in that moment and all he could manage to do was stare. And stare. Eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open.

And while you hadn't frozen, you stood there anyway, wanting him to look at you. Finally, he had walked over, gently taking the t-shirt from your grip before unfolding it and slipping it on over your head. You looked up to him, tucking your hair back behind your ears, now slightly embarrassed. "Chinese sounds good."

He smiled down at you.

Over time, you started wearing more and more of Fez's clothes. Mostly to bed. And only ever just t-shirts. You eventually stopped bothering with panties. And he certainly noticed when you were in the kitchen, reaching for a glass on the top shelf of a cabinet. He told himself for the longest time he'd move them down lower, but never did.

He had offered to sleep on the pullout couch when you first moved in, telling you that his bed was all yours if you wanted it, but you'd instead asked "what if we just slept together". He liked that idea much better.

He himself usually slept naked, but opted for wearing boxers to bed for awhile for your sake. One night, however, he took them off beforehand, heart pounding, but curious what your reaction might be to him doing so. You'd merely glanced up to him, flushed, then said, "oh" before looking back to the book you were currently reading.

After he climbed into bed beside you, you eventually gave up on the page you'd tried to read five times in a row and decided to lie down for the night as well. It was almost three a.m. before you found sleep.

The next night, as payback—rather, you wanted to be naked beside him, but never would admit that out loud—you had come into the bedroom, Fez playing something on his Xbox, and shut the door behind you before reaching down to the hem of his t-shirt you had on and pulling it off, tossing it on the floor.

All you could remember was him cursing as he lost the round, his attention now firmly elsewhere.

And then it became nightly: the two of you going to bed naked, but never doing anything more intimate than talking before going to sleep.

Sometimes each of you would wake up with the other wrapped around you, but when morning came, neither of you said anything about it. It was just the way things were. Sometimes the two of you found each other in your sleep. Sometimes not.

Fez tried to drive you to and from school as much as possible, but between the shop and dealing, it wasn't always feasible, since he needed to be home a lot. You understood that, but always felt giddy when you saw his black Impala in the parking lot. Him usually leaning against the passenger side smoking, waiting for you.

Others would stare as you ran into his arms, squealing as he picked you up and spun you around—your legs wrapped around his middle—but neither of you paid your classmates any mind.

He'd drive you back home with his hand between your thighs, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your leg, his other hand resting over the steering wheel.

The one time you'd taken his hand and moved it under your panties instead, he'd swerved into another lane, nearly causing a wreck. You'd sheepishly apologized, and never did it again.

He'd merely told you with a laugh "Lemme know next time you're gonna do something like that, baby, so I can pull over first".

Sometimes, neither of you could wait that fifteen minute drive back home and he'd pull off into a secluded spot off the main road and you'd climb into his lap, unbuckling his belt, him pulling your panties to the side under your dress as he eased into you.

You both prayed your birth control had worked every time he came inside of you.

He had promised you in the dark of the bedroom one night, however, that if one day it didn't, he'd take care of you. Both of you. If that's what you wanted.

You'd pressed your naked body even closer to his and whispered that it would be.

After school, once your homework was completed, you'd sometimes clean the apartment, the windows open and your favorite music drifting down the hall as you checked in on his grandma every once in awhile, making sure she was alright.

Other times, you'd go to the shop with him and watch as he worked. Once, shortly before closing, you'd been sitting atop a freezer in the front near the register, which housed various types of ice-cream. Fez had been between your legs, which were wrapped around his middle, your panties already in his pocket. You'd had your fingers clutching the gold chain around his neck, holding him in place as the two of you kissed, his hands gripping your bare hips under your dress, your slickness making a wet spot on the front of his jeans.

Until you were rudely interrupted by a boy you went to school with, but had never bothered learning the name of. He was tall, brunet, with an unhappy look on his face as he watched the two of you.

"Could somebody ring me up already?" He said, voice full of impatience, if not also a hint of disgust.

Not that either of you cared.

Fez had given you a peck on the nose and stepped away with a "back to work; you gotta stop distracting me, shawty" before bagging his things and sending him on his way.

You laughed, since he was the one who'd lifted you onto the cooler in the first place, and stealing your panties had been all his idea.

The guy had given you a dirty look as he left, but as soon as Fezco had his lips on your neck and his hand between your thighs, you quickly forgot about him.

When Fez was making deals in the apartment, you were always instructed to stay in the bedroom with the door locked, and for you to stay quiet. You never argued, understanding he sometimes did business with some very nasty and dangerous people.

You feared for his safety at times, but he was good at what he did and had never had any negative altercations thus far.

And he was always packing.

Which may or may not have turned you on all the more when you were in his lap and could feel a gun in his waistband.

You once told him as much and his brows had raised, a quite-surprised expression overtaking his features. "really?" he asked in disbelief. All it had taken was moving his hand between your legs and a "really" in reply before the two of you had sex right there on the couch. Twice.

After that day, he began cleaning his guns a lot more often, right in front of you. You usually just smirked and laughed about it, but it always got him his desired result—you inevitably coming over and silently taking his hand, leading him into the bedroom.

There had been a night when the two of you were in the middle of having sex when someone had started pounding on the front door. You'd immediately froze, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

Ash had been outside your door immediately, telling Fez to get a gun—he already had his—and come find out who it is.

Fez had slipped out of you, quickly dressing, telling you to stay put as he hid a pistol in the back of his pants, exiting the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

You'd walked silently over to the door, pressed your ear up against it, and listened for something—anything. Praying whatever was about to transpire...if it ended badly, that it would be for the other party.

You heard male voices. You were unable to make out what was being said, but the voices weren't raised, and the door hadn't been slammed or kicked in. So you'd gone back to bed, now a bit calmer, and eventually you drifted off to sleep.

But you had fucked up in forgetting to lock the door.

When Fez found Mouse in the bedroom, looking down at you sleeping—thankfully clutching blankets to your front, only your back bare—his hand brushing some hair out of your face, tracing his knuckles along your soft cheek, Fez had filled with murderous rage.

"Get. Out. This room is off fuckin' limits."

Mouse had only glanced back to him. "Door was unlocked, homes. Told you I was lookin' for the bathroom. Guess I chose the wrong room," he said with a shrug.

Fez took a step closer. "Told you it was at the very end of the hall. This look like the end of the fuckin' hall to you?"

He was beginning to raise his voice and you stirred in your sleep, then settled again. Mouse turned a bit more toward him, raising a finger to his lips. Then, "She's fuckin' fine, man. Looks like you got yourself some A1 pussy, if I say so myself." He smirked. "Ever think of sharin' with a brother?"

If Fez didn't get him out of the bedroom and even further away from you, and soon, he was going to commit a felony.

"I don't fuckin' share, so no."

When Mouse looked back to him, not liking his tone, he immediately took note of the gun that was now-visible in his front waistband, his t-shirt tucked behind it.

Mouse then looked into his eyes, the two of them staring one another down for just a moment, before Mouse finally stepped away from you. "Normally, I wouldn't tolerate that threat shit. But I'll give you a pass tonight. I know how it can be when a bitch got you wrapped around her finger."

As they stepped back out into the hall, Fez locking, then closing the door behind him, he gave Mouse a simple reply: "Don't ever fuckin' talk about her like that again."

Rue becomes the first person Fez eventually refuses to deal to.

She doesn't take kindly to his refusal, and you can see how much her reaction to it hurts him—the obscenities she screams at him, yelling that he was the one who had made her into what she had become. All you could do was press yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around him, waiting for her to leave.

He'd leaned his head against one of the walls in the hall and whispered "I did the right thing, right?" to you, which you had replied that he had, that this was the best thing for her, and that you loved him.

But that day hadn't been the last time either of you would see her. Your dislike for her grows as she gets Fez involved in her own personal issues with your fellow classmates, like Nate Jacobs. The same boy who'd given you both such a nasty look the day you'd been enjoying one another's company atop the cooler.

Nate comes by one day, once again late at night, and Fez makes it clear that he's to stay clear of Rue and her friend, Jules.

Nate had insulted Fez, then had asked, after Fez had threatened his life—staring at you all the while—if the list of people he was to stay away from included anybody else, or if 'lil' miss white-trash-beautiful' was free game.

You'd raced over to Fez before he could do something he would end up regretting as he quickly stepped around the register, taking both of his hands in yours, telling him what Nate had said didn't matter and to just let it go—let him go. You'd begged him to just look at you, but he refused to do so until Nate had finally driven away.

And then he had. He'd removed his right hand from yours and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gripping your chin in his fingers, before looking into your eyes. "If he ever comes near you again, I won't hesitate to put his ass six feet in the fuckin' ground".

You never told him how wet that one comment alone had made you. He didn't need anymore encouragement to go after and kill him.

And then the cops had raided the apartment and you, Fez, and Ash had scrambled to flush all the drugs down the toilet, Fez panicking, telling you to climb out one of the windows, but you refused to leave the two of them.

And that night was the first time you'd not only had a gun pointed at you, but the first time you'd ended up in cuffs.

You and Ash had sat on the floor while the police questioned Fezco for the next over an hour about where the drugs were, all while he played stupid.

And then the cops had laid into you, telling you that they could help you—get you away from your "abusive lowlife boyfriend", that they could "get you into rehab if he had you strung out, if you'd just cooperate". You did just as you and Fez had rehearsed and used tears to your benefit, telling them you didn't have any idea what they were talking about. That the three of you had just been getting ready to make dinner when they'd torn your home apart.

That Fez loved you.

And then you took the lie a step further, telling them to please uncuff you. Your stomach hurt and you were worried all of this stress was going to make you miscarry. You'd begged them—you couldn't lose your baby.

Fez had sat there frozen, completely fucking petrified, staring at you, a thousand thoughts going through his head. The most prominent among them? He'd nearly gotten you killed all over a few grand in narcotics. You, and your and his baby both.

The sob story hadn't deterred the police in their interrogation. The most they'd done was uncuff your hands, which you'd then gingerly placed over your stomach.

Once the police had left, Fez had dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing his hands to your stomach, asking over and over again if you were ok, if the baby was ok.

Ash had called him "fuckin' stupid", asking if he'd really believed that.

Fez had looked up to you confused and your face went red with embarrassment. "I thought it would get them out faster."

Hurt flashed across his features then, and you felt sick with yourself.

That night, you'd apologized profusely in bed, but so did he.

In the end, the both of you decided there was nothing which needed forgiven.

Fez admitted, only for a moment, that the thought of the two of you having a baby had actually...excited him, even if he worried about what sort of life he could provide for the both of you.

And then you'd told him when the time came, the both of you would figure that out together; it wasn't all on him. And then you had had sex. And for the first time, even if it was incredibly stupid of him, Fez hoped something more would come from it.

When you'd expressed fear to Fez of what would happen with people he owed money and product to now that he couldn't pay them, he'd merely told you that he'd "take care of it".

When he came back home one night with a few grand in a duffel bag, you never asked where it had come from. You'd just helped him count and hide it.

And then you had washed his bloody clothes, telling him to also shower to remove the evidence of whatever he had done.

Fez hadn't told you his intentions for the New Year's Eve party at Virgil's. He'd simply told you that the three of you were going to have a good time. And on the way there, he'd promised to kiss you at midnight, earning a groan from Ash in the backseat, which had made you laugh.

As the clock struck closer to that time, however, Fez had excused himself from the couch the two of you were seated on, saying he was getting up to get a drink. You'd tensed up as you watched him and Nate converse for a moment, Nate looking at you for a moment.

And that's when Fez had busted a bottle over his head.

Nate had fallen to the floor, Fez climbing on top of him and beating him within an inch of his life.

You'd stood by, horrified, as Nate's face became more and more bloodied and swollen. It took two guys to pull Fez away and once they had, he'd quickly grabbed your hand, leading you out of the house, Ash already waiting in the car.

And that's when you realized it had all been pre-planned.

You'd asked him why on the way home, and he'd told you his theory that, after him threatening Nate, he'd been the one to call the cops. And him making a vulgar comment about you—once again—had been the last straw.

You and Fez fucked until you were sore that night.

Some weeks later, Nate's dad showed up and Ash beat the living hell out of him with the butt-end of a rifle every time he got smart as Fez questioned him, until blood was pouring from the top of his head.

The more he and Fez talked, the more confused every one of you grew. By the end, Fez had something monumental over Cal—and you supposed, by extension, Nate, as this getting out would ruin the entire Jacobs family—he'd made a sex-tape with Jules. He'd said at one point that he "didn't know". Fez had of course misinterpreted what he'd meant.

But you understood.

Either he was lying, or he truly hadn't known she was a minor. Either way, he had made a disc which contained...something that would land him in prison for perhaps the rest of his life. And if he was anything like his son, maybe he would deserve it.

You, Fez, and Ash had stayed up most of the night in the living room, Little House playing softly in the background as the three of you debated what to do with the new information you’d been given.

Ash wanted to report him to the police—destroy his and Nate’s life. Mostly Nate’s for the raid, which you were sure Ash would never get past.

You wanted to sit on it. You didn’t want to do anything rash. Not yet. You weren’t even sure that—once he was out of the hospital—you wanted Nate aware of what you all now knew about his father. It would’ve provided some sick sense of satisfaction to throw such a thing in his face, sure. But he’d—at least most likely—called the cops on you all once already.

There was no telling what he might do if you blew his entire life up in the worst way possible.

As for Fez, he’d stated the obvious: unless you all got ahold of a copy of that disc, what you all knew didn’t mean shit. Only having solid proof of what Cal had done would get you anywhere.

And so the subject was dropped. But it was always there, waiting. As was the paranoia of Nate going a step further in getting revenge after what had happened during New Years.

You lost a bit of sleep over it all for a few weeks.

That constant stress loomed over your head of losing everything.

And you knew if Nate did it—if he sought vengeance again—it would be the last time. Fezco would kill him. And you’d do whatever was asked of you to help. Even though you knew Fez would never involve you in such a thing.

He’d already tried to destroy the life you all had worked so hard to build and keep ahold of once. It wasn’t going to happen again.

But, surprisingly, once Nate had recovered and was back at school…nothing happened.

And just as you were beginning to grow comfortable again, Mouse was beginning to become more and more of a problem. Constantly pushing for Fez to sell more product and earn more money and give him a bigger cut.

Until the night Ash killed him with a hammer.

You’d been locked in the bedroom, same as always, some cheesy romance movie on TV which was slowly putting you to sleep, until you heard yelling.

You’d jolted awake, heart racing, fear running through you.

And then you’d done something very stupid.

You’d gone in the closet, retrieved one of Fez’s glocks and exited the bedroom. You’d stepped quietly down the hall—silent as can be, your heart pounding in your ears—then peeked around the corner and you had froze when you saw it.

Mouse was dead, Custer and Ash screaming at each other—blood pouring from Custer’s nose, which was now a bloody mess.

Ash insistent that, had he not done it, Mouse would’ve shot Fez.

You’d gasped, dropping the gun. It thumped against the floor, making all three of them turn toward you as you covered your mouth, tears now slipping from your eyes as you choked back panicked sobs.

Fez quickly stepped over to you, turning you away from the gruesome sight before you as he held you against his chest with one hand, the other coming up to cup the back of your head. He’d whispered soothing words, telling you—promising you—that everything would be ok. That he would explain it all to you later. But, for right now, he needed you to go back in the bedroom and not come back out until he told you otherwise.

You’d looked up to him, your chin wobbling, and nodded, turning to go back down the hall.

You had nightmares for weeks afterward. About Mouse not actually being dead and coming to kill all three of you. Or about the cops coming to take Fezco and Ash away. Once, you’d had a dream about Fezco standing over you with a pistol. You’d shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, a gunshot ringing in your ears.

You never told him about the last one.

The others you weren’t exactly able to hide. The two of you usually fell asleep with you in his arms, pressed close to his chest, his thigh wedged between both of your legs. So when you would start to whine or cry or thrash in your sleep…well, it obviously woke him as well. And usually it took the better part of an hour for him to calm you enough before you managed to fall back asleep.

You drug at school most days, daydreaming about getting back home, stripping, and crawling beneath the covers for a couple of hours before getting up to make dinner and do your homework.

Until you started waking to dinner having been prepared for you and Ash having done your homework, even if you insisted that him doing so wasn’t necessary—he had enough on his plate. But he usually just brushed such insistence off.

Eventually, the nightmares started to lessen and you did your best to forget about Mouse. About that night. And your life, once again, returned to normal.

The most exciting thing that even occurred came a few weeks later: the news coming to light that Nate had apparently been hooking up with Cassie while he and Maddy were broken up…or on a break…or whatever they were. You didn’t really care.

And then had come Lexi’s play, where she’d seemingly cast knock-off versions of all of her friends and their friends and aired all of their dirty laundry for the whole school to see.

You’d skipped it, but had heard bits-and-pieces about it around school. A small part of you even wished that you had gone to it just to see Maddy and Cassie beating the crap out of each other on-stage, if nothing else.

Instead, you had stayed home with Fez and Ash, the three of you eating dinner and then playing Monopoly, which you were sure Ash had cheated at, but you couldn’t prove how.

Fez had tried to bribe you into selling him your properties through the promise of whispered sexual favors—Ash yelling for him to ‘knock it the fuck off’, and that he ‘wasn’t being fair’. You’d given him Park Place without qualms and it had earned you half an hour of oral once you were both in bed for the night.

Boardwalk had earned you him tying you up and having his way with you. He’d asked how, exactly, that was supposed to be considered you winning something for yourself when he was getting to have all the fun, but you’d replied simply by spreading your legs and calling him daddy.

He’d had no idea what to do with that other than laugh.

You’d flushed out of embarrassment, having never called him that before, but he’d made love to you for over an hour anyway.

During the summer, between your junior and senior year, the best day of your life happened. Up until that point, that is, at least.

You’d gone out to run a few errands—Fez and Ash continuously sending you things they’d forgotten to ask you to pickup before you’d left—your fuse growing shorter with every item you had to backtrack in the Impala to go get.

When you finally got back to the apartment, ready to explode once you got through the door, you’d stopped, all anger leaving you when you took in the sight before you.

The windows were open, the apartment spotless, and candles and flowers everywhere. And right in front of you was Fezco, down on one knee, a small box with a ring inside in his trembling hand.

You’d dropped the groceries you’d been holding, your hands coming up to rest over your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.

You’d stepped closer, until he took your left hand in his, and he said so many sweet and loving things.

He told you how you were the love of his life, how you held his heart in the palms of your hands, how you were the only woman he had and would ever want. He told you how desperate he was to start the rest of his life with you as his wife, how he wanted to give you his name—the first of many things he wanted to give you—or, rather, continue to give you as he had already done so much for you.

And you’d dropped to your knees and kissed him, deeply. And you had of course said yes. And he’d slid the simple diamond ring on your finger that he’d found at a pawnshop almost an hour of town (he’d scoured all the ones nearby, but nothing had seemed right—none had been the one for you), until one was.

And then you’d made love right there on the floor.

Senior year, you stayed to yourself. You didn’t bother making friends with the other students, or seeing what their lives were like. You wanted no part in any of that—their breakups and fights and stupid shallow drama. You just focused on your life with Fez and Ash and their grandma, Marie.

You and Fez had actually gotten married two weeks after his proposal. It felt strange—sitting in the middle of English class as you filled out worksheets and kids snickered amongst themselves in the back—when you glanced down to your wedding ring, knowing you were now someone’s wife.

And you’d never felt happier.

A little over a month before graduation, you found out you were pregnant. And when you told Fez, presenting him with a custom-made t-shirt which said ‘Best Dad on the West Coast’, he’d cried, pressing kiss after kiss to your stomach, promising he would be the best father he could be.

You’d given Ash a similar gift, but instead of ‘dad’, it had said ‘brother’—since you considered him a sort of surrogate son—and he’d taken the t-shirt, nodding his head, his brows furrowed, and had excused himself after muttering ‘thanks’, and you knew it was so he could go cry in private.

When you graduated, the two of them, even Faye and Custer, had been in the crowd and they’d screamed…unbelievably loud as you walked the stage. You’d smiled so wide it made your cheeks hurt and all five of you had taken at least a hundred pictures after.

And then you’d all gone to dinner, Faye and Custer giving you a graduation gift, which had actually been a cute onesie for the baby, which said ‘mommy’s girl, daddy’s world’ on the front, causing tears to gush from your eyes, which you then blamed on the hormones.

You’d then all gone bowling and Custer had somehow managed to kick everyone’s asses, with Ash coming in as a close second. Faye had just wanted to play with the bumpers up, so you all had played another game while the guys watched—Custer and Fez drinking and joking while Ash complained that the bumpers defeated the whole purpose of the game (even if he did play with you all)—and Faye had won.

Ash had blamed it all on the bumpers, claiming they’d ‘thrown off his game’.

When you returned home, you’d been exhausted. You and Fez had taken a bath together and when you lied down in bed, he’d rubbed your feet until you fell asleep, clutching a small teddy bear to your chest.

You’d been sleeping with the toy off and on, insisting you wanted it to have your scent for when the baby finally came, so she’d have it to sleep with in her bassinet beside the bed.

Shortly before the baby was born, Fez had gotten himself out of dealing—which hadn’t been an easy feat, to put it lightly—and had then sold the store, which had earned you all enough for him to put a down payment on a house outside of East Highland.

The move had been a pain while pregnant. Not because you had helped, but because Fez, Ash, Faye, and Custer had all refused to let you so much as lift a single box.

You told yourself, as you sipped on lemonade and watched them carry box after box down to the U-Haul Fez had rented, that now was the time to enjoy being given time off. Because once the baby arrived, you wouldn’t be getting such a break for the next eighteen years.

And you couldn't wait.

Fez had gotten himself a job in a small mechanic shop, which he quickly worked up to being partner of after the older gentleman who owed it took a shine to him and his odd, if not endearing little family.

You’d watched, once the four of you were officially moved into your new home, as Ash and Fez worked on putting together furniture in the nursery, your hand resting over your pregnant belly as you stood in the doorway as they put together your daughter’s crib.

You’d then gone to check on Fez’s grandma. And while she, as ever, never spoke, you told her everything, the same as you always had, to ensure she was always involved in your lives.

And only a few weeks later, she had passed silently in her sleep. And while Fez and Ash had been distraught, you somehow felt like you knew she was at-peace. Like she’d been holding on long enough until you all had made it to finally let go.

You’d held Fez in bed, night after night, his cheek pressed against your belly as he cried, talking about how much he missed her, or just telling wild stories of her younger days to both you and your little one.

And in time, his and Ash’s grief turned to fond remembrance. They had both just hoped that Marie would hold on long enough to meet her granddaughter, but you promised they would one day meet anyway. And they did when you would go visit her at the cemetery.

When your little girl was born, she was loved and adored by everyone.

Faye and Custer became like a surrogate aunt and uncle. Ash was…an absolutely awesome older brother; you could tell much of how he treated being a brother came from all Fez had taught him. And Fez…well, you had to settle for only having half of his heart now. But the same went for him with yours.

And those two halves made a whole, just as they were always meant to. A whole, which belonged to your daughter and her alone.

When Hank, the owner of the auto shop, was ready to finally retire, Fez had panicked. He had a wife and baby girl to look after now—the two of you had decided that you should stay home and take care of your daughter instead of work (Fez was honestly just really old-fashioned at heart and wanted to provide for the both of you)—but his fears were quickly squashed when Hank signed the shop over to him.

He’d told Fez he’d become like a son to him, while your daughter had become the grandchild he’d never gotten to have. He wanted to make sure he did this one thing right—ensuring you all were well taken care of.

You had been inconsolable, you were so grateful when the two of them told you.

He ensured you that you all were doing him a favor, really. He’d put his life’s work into that shop, and now he knew it wouldn’t be torn down and replaced with some “nonsense hipster smoking joint”, as he’d put it. He knew Fez would look after it well.

And he did.

Fez hired Custer on, who’d also recently gotten himself and Faye moved into an apartment closer to the both of you—he no longer dealing and while it’d taken a lot of effort, Faye had gotten herself clean—and once Ash was older, he became his assistant manager.

He even taught your daughter, Carrie, a bit about cars as she grew older. Every now and again, someone from East Highland stopped in to have their car serviced, but you thankfully never saw Nate Jacobs again. You never bothered looking into what happened to the troubled young man; you didn’t really care.

When Hank passed, it hit Fez really hard. One night, after taking a bath, you’d found him in Carrie’s room, holding her as he cried silently. So you’d set down on the bed beside them and wrapped the both of them in your arms and cried with him and told him how much he had meant to him. That he would be honoring his memory as the new owner of the auto shop.

He tried to visit Hank’s grave weekly, and you did when you were able, always bringing fresh flowers, which you grew in your backyard with your daughter.

Eventually, Custer and Faye married as well, you serving as Faye’s maid-of-honor, and Fez as Custer’s best man at their wedding, which had had one hell of a reception afterward. Fez and you hadn’t gotten drunk like that since you were teenagers. Which had consequently resulted in another unexpected gift, which the two of you had decided to name Hank.

Ash eventually met a girl, and as you watched the two of them, you realized how much they reminded you of you and Fez when you were their age. It was a bit…unnerving, at times. But you knew they were just right for one another with that simple observation alone.

As the years went on, your family only grew. Custer and Faye eventually having a son of their own, Ash and his girlfriend getting married, your daughter growing up and one day meeting a girl, which she fell in love with. And your son finding himself an outgoing woman who always kept him on his toes.

And one day, you looked up, and that broken home where your father had ruled with fists was so far away, you could no longer see it.

All you could was the love right in front of you.

It’d taken unspeakable violence and struggle to get here, but you had made it.

All of you.

[meiieiri]

water’s edge | concept dump

₊˚.༄ pairing: crown prince!gojo satoru x f!reader | setting: modern royal au

₊˚.༄ summary: in a world where titles define their fates, gojo satoru, the crown prince of japan, and his wife-to-be, face a tempestuous court of deception and schadenfreude. as they waltz on the edge of ruin, can their love endure the treacherous waters that threaten to pull them apart, or will the whims of the enigmatic chrysanthemum throne prove strong enough to drown them both?

₊˚.༄ warnings: mean!gojo (but that’s not even the worst of it oh my god what monstrosity have i created), arranged marriage, illness, allusions to criminal activity that may include reckless homicide, physical battery and attempted murder. mentions of depression, cheating, physical and emotional abuse, trauma, adultery. fictional depiction of the japanese imperial family, etc.

LINK TO FULL FIC MASTERLIST HERE!

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who is the only son of the emperor and empress of Japan, the beloved and long-awaited child of his parents. As a child, he had been showered with endless praise and veneration as the one, true, legitimate heir to the chrysanthemum throne. The entire imperial household had expected the prince to inherit an unwavering sense of duty to the crown and to his people much like his fore-bearers, only to be severely disappointed when the prince turns out to be a pathological card shark with ambiguous morals, and a serial womanizer who has slept with countless women from aristocratic backgrounds during the height of his bachelor years.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who finally incurs his father’s wrath after a nasty bar brawl that leads to him getting unceremoniously arrested and is stripped of his title and properties as crown prince, favoring his half-brother, Prince Suguru Geto, who had been born of the emperor’s affair with one of the empress’s ladies-in-waiting. This incident has prompted his mother, the empress, to help in ratifying his public image by arranging Satoru to marry a commoner with an impeccable standing in Japanese society in a bid to re-portray Satoru as a responsible, married man. The empress, in turn, offers to grant you, Satoru’s future wife-to-be, anything your heart could ever desire.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who engages in a pantomime act of being a loving husband to you during a state banquet by showering you with endless praise in his speech addressed to all the world leaders in the Akasaka Palace’s reception hall. When he was asked to introduce you, his new wife, the honeyed words came so easily to him. “You see, the princess (Y/N) is no ordinary woman,” he chuckles into the microphone causing the guests to giggle at the sight of what looks to be a bashful newlywed.

“Other than being the first breath of fresh air our family has ever had the pleasure of knowing in so long, and the most active member in our family when it comes to supporting the many royal charities and foundations, she is…” he trails off. You dared to follow the wandering gaze of your husband, who seems to be searching for another pair of eyes in the room. His eyes eventually stop their search, softening at the sight of the one he loved. For a second, you think he is looking at you, and your heart naively skips a beat in your chest as if all these months of inattention and animosity were finally coming to an end.

“…My better half, the keeper of my own heart.”

Many of the ambassador’s wives who sat beside you nudged you in congratulations for being so blessed with such a devoted husband. You crane your head back to smile warmly at them for the kind words only to have ice coat your veins instantly when you see his Chief-of-Staff, Himiko Zenin, sitting about two seats behind you, staring directly at your husband with a wistful look in her eyes, exchanging words of love in a silent oath — one that is far more certain than the rising and the setting of the sun as each day passes with your husband hating you a tad bit more than yesterday, and one that is far more truthful than the wedding vows you shared.

Of course, writing this godforsaken death march-like speech was easy for Satoru, simply because these words of devotion and love were never intended for you anyway; this poetic spiel was written with another woman ensnaring his mind.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who sneaks out of bed during your wedding night, sparing one last cold glance at your sleeping form before he saunters out the imperial villa to meet his girlfriend in a nearby mountain resort, about half a mile away from the villa. His personal chauffeur had been sworn to secrecy, else, he would incur the wrath of the crown prince.

“I thought you couldn’t get away,” Himiko moans wantonly into his mouth as he roughly takes her from behind, the lewd wet sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the room. He had taken the liberty of secretly bringing Himiko along to your honeymoon, by booking the most expensive suite in the resort for her under another name.

“The bitch is too fucked out to even notice I’m gone— mmph—“ he throws his head back, releasing a pleasured groan when Himiko meets his sharp thrusts, grinding teasingly on his cock as she does so. He grips her hips tightly, readjusting his hips to pound into her from another angle, the muscles on his abs tightening as he gets lost in the feeling of her tight, luscious walls. “Sh-shit, ‘m-m gonna cum—“

“—Ah! S-Satoru,” she was close too, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as the fat tip of his member roughly prods at her cervix.

He half-expected Himiko to be angry with him for engaging in intimate acts with you, but she simply acts like she didn’t hear him. And even if she was upset, why should he, of all people, apologize? She should have known that becoming his mistress entailed having to endure these kinds of things as these were simply Satoru’s marital duties, and by extension, his duty to the crown.

His high washes over him like a tidal wave crashing into the rock shore, grunting as he involuntarily thrusts as he releases inside her, Himiko collapsing onto the pillows as he does. “O-oh, haaa- agh,” his deep tenor moans into her long black hair as his seed paints her walls, holding her close to his form, their heartbeats racing a million miles an hour.

He pulls out his flaccid cock, plopping down next to her, pulling her small frame for her head to rest on his chest. “I just need to have father reinstate me as heir apparent and return all my estates, then,” he kisses her once, his lips moving in sync with her soft ones.

“…We’ll get rid of her.”

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who blatantly and publicly humiliates you by bringing along Himiko Zenin to a state visit to the imperial family’s counterpart in Monaco rather than you, his rightful wife. And when asked of your whereabouts, Satoru simply replies with a casual shrug, his hand squeezing Himiko’s smaller ones as she usurps the banquet thrown in your honor by the Monacan royal family while you watch the horrific scene unfold on your television screen, your heart shattering into a million pieces as Himiko and Satoru uncaringly waltz with one another in front of the watchful eyes of the entire world throughout the evening.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who crucifies you for your acts of sincere charity, believing you to be actively humiliating Himiko despite having no intentions whatsoever resembling his baseless accusation. “Did you honestly think your little publicity antics would go unpunished? I bet you were just itching for the attention, weren’t you?” he snarls at you the second you come back from a visit to one of the hospitals you had commissioned for the treatment of children with rare diseases, a compassionate act which had been heavily televised by national broadcasting stations and even international news agencies. “If you wish to compete with Himiko, wife, then, by all means. But I swear to you, I will do everything — everything I can — to make the entire world know just how much of an opportunistic whore you are—”

You gaze up at your husband with fear in your eyes. “…I was not competing with Himiko, can I not care for our people — your people? I’m sure they need someone to promote their interests when their own prince couldn’t be bothered to do so!” you retaliate but are quickly shot down when he throws his scotch glass at the wall, causing you to flinch when it shatters on impact.

“I will make sure this humiliation you dealt to Himiko will return to you tenfold, (Y/N),” he dangerously seethes, coming to the aid of his mistress. “Celebrate your victory all you want, wife, but make no mistake, this is far from over.”

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who indifferently scoffs when you crumble into a sobbing mess after yet another argument with him. “W-what can I do to make you not hate me so much? P-please tell me, Satoru.” The only response you receive is your husband dangerously moving closer to you, his eyes, dark with pure loathing. Instinctively, you step backward, only to be met by the cold wall of your shared bedroom. “S-Satoru—“

“—Here’s what you can do: do exactly as I say, without question,” he traps you between his arms, his breath hot on your skin, his lips dangerously close to yours, his voice dripping with the venom that could turn every silver thread in your heart into a hue that resembled charcoal black. “If I tell you to kiss me, you kiss me. If I tell you to get out, you get out. If I tell you to shut up, you sew your mouth shut or rip your tongue out, I really don’t give a damn. If I tell you to die…”

…

…

“…You drop dead.”

a/n: meh, just wrote this at the top of my head to get rid of this stupid writer’s block since hehe i have like eighteen drafts of jjk smut and drabbles in my tumblr folder rn help :’)

might turn this into a multi-chapter fic depending on how it is received. so lemme know your thoughts by reblogging, liking or commenting on this post!

[erinfern0]

no words were needed.

simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: you and simon were friends as long as you remember. maybe that was the reason why the two of you were so blind to the feeling hidden so deeply inside.

warnings: hurt/angst to comfort and fluff. cocky teasing, mention of abuse, swearing, smoking, terrible date, insecurities, self-doubt, jealousy, protective simon.

a/n: based on this lovely request, the only thing I decided to change is that i made the reader gender-neutral, not including any specific pronouns, just a little preference of mine.

You and Simon were always there for each other, since the day you two met. Not only because the two of you were neighbors — living just a couple of houses away from each other, but also because your parents were friends. Both of your fathers served in the military, and mothers always found time to chat and see each other when their husbands were away.

You always adored the tiny gentleman in him, he was like a brother to you, always finding ways to comfort you and help whenever you needed it. And you were there for him too, watching him exorcise or patching up all the little scruffs and wounds he had. You spent hours upon hours in your room just so he could escape from the rough household he had to grow up in.

Your house became his home, and he always felt like a brother to you, protecting you from possible dangers and people you'd rather not deal with. That was until high school, when you realized he's not the cute little boy he used to be. He turned a little colder, focusing on his grades and physique to appeal to his father's wishes.

Watching him lose himself broke your heart, especially after you realized you were catching feelings for him. You hid it well, trying not to get too close to him to not add burdens to his already high pile of them. You brought peace to his life that you didn't want to ruin.

No words were needed between the two of you to know exactly what you were thinking, well, most of the time. You always joked that you shared some braincells as you had the same type of humor and shared some interests.

He was slightly older than you, just a couple of months apart, and as soon as he turned 18, he started applying for the military. He worked his ass off, and you just supported him, reminding him how much he deserves to get in and how well he'll do as a soldier.

And you, too, had to work hard, studying for your exams. Ever since you turned 18 too, you felt the pressure of being an actual adult, having to apply for colleges and part-time jobs to not feel like a parasite to your parents.

Now, you were sitting in your room by your desk, spreading notes all over it and highlighting the most important parts when you heard footsteps coming upstairs. Not anyone from your family members. They belonged to Simon. Your heart rushed for a split second before he entered your room, hood covering most of his head and face.

“Learn to knock, Riley.” you turned towards him and smiled lightly. “I could have been naked, you know?”

“Wouldn't complain.” he chuckled as he walked to your desk and wrapped his arms around you from behind. Simon earned himself a light smack to his forearm for his comment. His head fell on your shoulder, watching you write over one of the pages. “Still studyin'?”

You groaned in frustration, head falling back against his body as he just laughed and ruffled your hair. Then, he just patted your shoulders and pulled away from the hug to sit on your parapet.

Closing your textbook and spinning around in your chair, you watched him lean against the wall and grab a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “So, um… How was your date?”

His question caught you off guard, stopping you in your movements and just staring at the ceiling, thinking about the answer. Telling him the whole truth might be hurtful, not only for him and you but also to him and you'd never risk that.

Well, the only reason you even agreed to go was because he was slightly similar to Simon, a tall blonde gym rat who likes books and video games. You were naive thinking that he'll ever replace Simon. By the end of the date, you decided to tell him the truth, that you already had feelings for another man, and you are sorry for possibly leading him.

He turned out to be less sweet than you believed him to be, immediately getting mad at you for, as he phrased it: 'wasting his time'. This made you think so hard, how could you be anyone's type if the only person you truly want is your best friend?

“It was fine until it wasn't.” you claimed, immediately regretting your words as soon as you looked at Simon.

The hood was gone, leaving you to see the expression on his face. The frown of his brows and that spark in his eye made a chill run down your spine. Concern? Worry? Anger? You couldn't tell, but it wasn't anything nice.

“What did that prick do, huh?” he asked and looked at you while blowing out some smoke towards the opened window. That's when the light hit his face, showing you the bruise forming on his cheekbone.

“Again?” you whispered breathlessly, getting up from your seat to appear in front of him seconds later. Your fingers caught his chin, turning his face so you could see it better.

“Don't switch the topic on me.” he groaned with annoyance, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist to pull your hand away from him. Seeing your face so upset, analyzing every little scratch on his face, especially the purple mark splashed on his side, he just sighed, shaking his head.

“Answer for an answer?” you asked, recalling a little rule the two of you had since your early childhood. His tongue brushed over his teeth as his mouth was closed, just accepting his fate.

“I asked first.” he barked, forcing a smirk on his chopped lips. His legs part, inviting you a little closer, and allowing you to wrap your arms around his torso. One of Simon's arms rested on your shoulder while the other held his cigarette away from you. “Plus, you already know the answer to your question so...”

“It wasn't that bad, it's just… We weren't a match, that's it.” you started, watching him raise his eyebrow in disbelief, knowing you too well to just believe it was the only reason. “God, you're annoying.” you huff and roll your eyes.

“Proud of it, too.” he shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the window to watch you squirm and collect your thoughts. That's what you thought he was doing, but actually, Simon's eyes were just wandering over your face to admire you, even if for just a couple of seconds.

Every little detail of your face was mapped in his head, knowing every curve and blemish, every beauty mark or scar that you had. He adored every part of you, especially your eyes that looked so lost in thought, so easy for him to get away with his actions.

“He was nice, we went for a walk in the park nearby. Then I just realized he… Wasn't exactly the person I was looking for, and I told him that.“ you met his gaze, dark browns hazed with nicotine, eyelids heavier than usual. His pupils were blown out, twitching as he looked into your own eyes. “I think I wasn't too gentle with it, he got so upset.”

Your gasp made his body stiffen in alert, the hand that rested on your shoulder gently squeezing it to encourage you to speak. His expression was puzzled, as if he was shifting between different emotions, analyzing the way your eyes fluttered. Of course, he didn't miss the water collecting in the corners of your eyes.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice low and quieter than before, as if you were a deer caught in the headlights. A dainty, sweet little fawn that he wished he could take care of better. His expression softened, the clench in his jaw relaxing under your touch,

“Not upset like that.” you assured, pulling away to rest your hands on his sides, gripping the material of his hoodie. The material is soft and smells so comfortable. The mix of his cologne and cigarettes, despite how much you hated him smoking, the scent always warmed your heart.

“He said something, didn't he?” he asked, teeth clenching as you nodded your head. “Take your time.” as he soothed your hair, the cigarette was thrown into the ashtray you got for him. His now free hand reached to your forearm, drawing calming shapes on your skin, causing goosebumps.

“Well, he just said that I'm wasting his time, how much he regretted seeing me that day because I turned out to be an 'indecisive little baby'. He…” you let out a shaky breath, trying so hard not to show him how much the guy's words hurt you. “He said I was unattractive and boring anyway. He just left me there.”

“Why didn't you call?” he asked, his jaw clenching again, and you felt the muscles of his back tensing under your fingertips. He shifted uncontrollably, trying to stay calm for you. “He'd have to look for his teeth in the fuckin' ground.”

You shook your head, trying to push away the image of Simon covered in the guy's blood, panting heavily with anger. Knowing how much he cared made you feel even worse for telling him all of this.

Simon's mind was somewhere else. Yes, of course, he'd beat the living shit out of your awful date, but what mattered more, the most, was you.

“You told me not to go, and I didn't listen.” you reminded him, biting your inner cheek to keep your composure. “You were right about him from the start, I just… Didn't want to bother you.”

“You'd never bother me, doll.” he assured, leaning closer to you. His face was mere inches away from yours, eyes scanning from your brows to your lips, stopping there for a second before he got right back to your eyes. “All he said was pure bullshit, I hope you know that.”

Your lack of response, and the nervous swallow you did, made his heart sink in realization. Of course, you'd listen to the man who was so direct rather than your friend who admired you in silence. You couldn't see yourself from his perspective.

You couldn't see how much he looked up to you, your soft and kind nature, how much he adored your voice when you rambled about school, friends, and your hobbies. Likewise, you didn't see your body like he did, as pure perfection. Furthermore, you didn't deserve to hear so many lies from such an insecure little fucker who got upset he wouldn't fuck you, as Simon thought.

The room was awfully quiet, as you closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying. He could see it, and it made him even more mad, not at you. At himself. How could he be so blind?

Now, sitting so close to you, thinking over all the ways he could show you how wrong the guy was, it hit him. He felt it before, the way his heart sped up thinking about you. How you were the first thing he thought in the morning after he woke up and the last thing before he went to bed. You were always on his mind, a fever dream of your touch, words, and smile wandering every time he needed comfort.

That's so obvious. He was stupid to believe the reason he was so mad when you mentioned your date was just because he had a bad feeling about him. He just wanted it to be him. All those years, he was just so blind.

Simon loved you like a madman, worshipping the ground you walk on and feeling lucky he could breathe the same air as you. He craved your comforting touch, you were the reason he liked to be touched in the first place, always pulling away from hugs too soon before he met you.

He swallowed harshly, shifting in his seat again, pulling you closer as he cupped your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, moving up to wipe a couple of tears that ran down your face.

"Look at me, please." his voice cracked, eyelids fluttering as his mouth felt incredibly dry. Licking his lips, he smiled softly as he saw you slowly open your eyes, looking at him with such a questionable mix of emotions. "You deserve way better than that dumb fuck." he spat out, holding back from saying 'I'd treat you better.'

"He was right, Si. I agreed to go even if I knew I didn't want any of it, I didn't want him." you whispered shakily, your hands resting atop his, Despite your state, you melted under his touch, hoping it'd last forever.

"Even if you knew that, he should be lucky you gave him a chance." his comment made the two of you chuckle softly, catching each other's gaze. You felt lost in his eyes, the dreamy brown making your legs feel weak like cotton. "Who did you want then?"

'You were the one I wanted.' you thought to yourself, immediately scolding yourself for even thinking that. His hands caressing your face felt warm, they felt like the comfort you so desperately needed.

You felt your cheeks get warmer as he got closer, and for a split second, you thought he heard your inner voice. Despite your worries, Simon didn't look away or leave, he just stared into your eyes as if they were the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

"He's a fool for losing you, sweetheart." his voice echoed in your head, making you feel giddy at the raspy sound of the nickname he gave you. He never called you that before. It slipped so easily off his tongue, sounding so perfect.

Seconds later, you felt courageous. 'Now or never.' the little voice inside your head whispered, taking over your body and inching closer to him. Lips almost touching as you clung to his hoodie, trying to pull him towards you.

Simon was faster, his lips hungrily latching onto yours in a rushed, messy manner. It felt like he waited for this moment all his life, fingers holding your face as close to him as possible. His body slid off the windowsill, standing on his feet and pulling your bodies against each other.

One of your hands rested on his chest, grasping the soft material with your shaky fingers, the other running up his body to find its' place in his hair, tugging on the ends. Your action caused him to groan, deepening the kiss with the way you tilted your head, allowing the two of you to lose yourselves.

It was fast, messy, and greedy. The way he turned you around so you'd lean against the wall, letting him cage you in his embrace made you gasp into his mouth. Simon felt himself growing breathless, but it didn't matter.

That's when you felt it. You felt his love in such a different way than before. It was strong, storming into you like a hurricane to leave your mind a hazed mess. All you could think about was the fast beating of his heartbeat under your fingertips, the way he melted into your body as the kisses slowed down, turning into short pecks.

A string of saliva connected the two of you as you pulled away, catching your breaths. Foreheads touching, Simon's thumb rubbing your swollen lower lip, feeling the mix of spit under the pad of his finger.

You felt heavenly, tears almost spilling again as you realized that your crush on him wasn't just a crush. It was hard for you to admit your love to him, but now you could hear the mean voices in your head go away with the way he held you so close to him.

And for the first time in a while, Simon felt at peace, knowing he was right where he belonged. You were the light he was chasing in the dark tunnel of his life and now he could just have you. He felt your arms wrapped around him so tightly, he couldn't focus on anything else. He felt stronger than ever, cared for, loved.

No words were needed between the two of you as you just stood there, bodies tangled, and leaned against the wall to keep the two of you from falling to the floor from how shaky your legs were.

No words were needed for the two of you to admire the moment of quiet, peaceful breaths syncing with each other.

No words were needed for the two of you to admit how blind you were, not noticing or not admitting your feelings for each other.

No words were needed to express the love you felt for each other, just as it's always been.

masterlist | request info

[maxdibert]

Hello!! I really like your blog ^^ Do you have any headcanons about Tobias Snape and his relationship with Severus?

Yes, I have quite a few headcanons, both about him and about their relationship. Here are some:

Severus was born in 1960, so Tobias must have experienced WWII in one way or another. I imagine him coming from a working-class family that suffered the consequences of the war when his father had to go to the front. Tobias was probably still a teenager, and if they were already poor, the absence of the family’s breadwinner made them even poorer, and he would have started working at a very young age, almost as a child.

The trauma of war and having to take charge of his family so young likely shaped his personality. From an early age, he acted like an adult and accumulated a lot of anger that he didn’t know how to process because 1) men in that era were ticking time bombs, as they weren’t allowed to show their emotions, and 2) if you weren’t violent, you didn’t survive. Period.

He worked in a factory and was quite frustrated with how little he earned and the fact that he was never promoted beyond being a laborer. He started frequenting pubs after work at a young age and began drinking very early as well.

He let out his anger by getting into drunken fights.

He met Eileen Prince when he was about 35, and she was 10 or 12 years younger. She looked like a well-to-do young lady, and he was quite smooth-talking, so it wasn’t hard for him to win her over.

Eileen seemed like one of those women who appeared fragile, and Tobias liked that. It reinforced the image of the macho breadwinner and family man typical of the time, which he liked to embody. It gave him confidence because, as a nobody, it was the only thing his ego could cling to.

He didn’t care that her family wanted nothing to do with their marriage; he saw it as a kind of triumph. He had won the girl, "conquered" her, and those posh idiots who seemed to be her parents could go to hell.

All of this changed when Severus was born and Eileen told him she was actually a witch. That was the beginning of his descent into hell because his fragile masculinity, rooted in patriarchal ideals of manhood, couldn’t handle the fact that his wife was more powerful than he was. That she had powers, that she could do anything with a wave of her wand. It stripped him of the head-of-household role he had built for himself. If his wife could do anything with just a whisper, and he couldn’t get beyond being a factory laborer, then what was left of him?

He began showing hostility every time Eileen displayed any kind of magic. Over time, she repressed herself more and more until she finally stopped using it altogether. Tobias became increasingly intimidating whenever she mentioned her powers, to the point of verbally abusing her when he came home drunk. Eventually, when Severus started showing signs of being a wizard, Tobias felt so alienated from his own family that this was when the physical violence began.

Eileen didn’t dare use magic because her family had rejected her, and Tobias was all she had left. She clung to her marriage and obeyed him in everything he said. But his frustration, lack of self-esteem, and constant personal failures only worsened his temper, and he always took it out on her. He would accuse her of thinking she was better than him because she was a witch, of mocking him behind his back with Severus, and he constantly reminded her that she would have nothing without him (classic abusive behavior, nothing new under the sun).

He was always deeply frustrated with Severus because, from a young age, Severus showed a strong interest in intellectual rather than physical pursuits: books, stories. It wasn’t just because he was interested in magic and Tobias felt intimidated by something he couldn’t access. It was also because Tobias had built his self-image as a strong man through his physicality—someone who had survived a war, endured a brutal post-war period, and worked with his hands from a young age. His son lacked all those traditionally masculine qualities. Instead, he was drawn to interests Tobias didn’t even understand because he had barely finished primary school. This frustrated him immensely, so he tried to force Severus to be a "real man" from the start. But when he got nowhere, he eventually took it out on the boy. He beat him with a belt whenever he saw Severus doing "sissy" things, showing interest in the magical world, or simply failing to embody the epitome of masculinity Tobias wanted in a worthy son.

As a child, Severus was deeply afraid of his father. This fear partly fueled his interest in the Dark Arts. He fantasized about using a curse on Tobias one day to make him suffer and pay for everything he had done. It’s no coincidence that Severus was ahead of his peers; it was a form of self-defense. He would secretly read old books from his mother or ask her questions when Tobias wasn’t home. But as Severus grew older, Eileen became more emotionally distant, eventually becoming almost a ghost in the house.

As a teenager, Severus felt nothing but disgust for his father. He despised being related to someone so pathetic and simple. He threw himself into his studies because, on some unconscious level, he believed that the more he learned, the more knowledge he acquired, the farther he would be from someone as illiterate and brutish as his father, who seemed almost animalistic to him. Ending up in a house full of upper-class people was a way for him to dissociate from his own origins, adopting mannerisms and striving to set himself apart.

This infuriated Tobias even more. To him, his son not only thought he was better because he was a wizard, but now he was also attending that boarding school full of "posh prissy idiots" and coming home as an effeminate weakling, trying to sound like some upper-crust Londoner. Tobias would grab him by the neck and slam him against the wall, yelling furiously, asking if a scrawny, weak runt like him seriously thought he was better than his own father. Deep down, Severus liked provoking this reaction because he knew he had hurt Tobias's ego.

Through his Slytherin peers, Severus came to understand that Muggles were like that—violent, unpleasant, always seeking to harm wizards. And in a way, Severus believed it, because his father was like that. His father was violent, uncivilized, while the pureblood wizards he met during those years were intellectual, highly knowledgeable, elegant, and well-mannered. They were eloquent, interesting people, full of curiosity and ambition. What Severus knew of Muggles was nothing but filth, violence, resentment, and hatred. It was his father shouting, the smell of alcohol from the pubs he always went to, the factory friends who staggered home with him late at night, always filthy and barely literate. Magic was extraordinary; Muggles were dusty streets, old, soot-covered houses that looked ready to collapse, beggars in the alleys, and families who couldn’t even afford proper clothes. What his housemates said about Muggles made sense because he had lived it.

By the time Severus was 16, he almost cursed his father during one summer holiday. Tobias had gone into a rage and assaulted Eileen and then him. But Severus held back; he didn’t want to risk expulsion or losing his wand. However, he was intimidating enough to make Tobias almost wet himself in fear. After that, Tobias restrained himself; he was no longer physically violent, only verbally abusive. They barely spoke when Severus came home for the holidays. Tobias barely spoke to Eileen either.

I don’t have a clear headcanon about how Tobias died. Many people speculate that Severus killed him. I don’t think so. I don’t believe he killed his father or had him killed. I think it’s more likely that Eileen died first, shortly before or after Severus finished school. She probably died because she had neglected herself so much that her health deteriorated beyond repair. I imagine Severus stopped going to Spinner's End, and Tobias, now completely alone, spiraled out of control. Maybe he stopped going to work and was fired, and he drank himself into oblivion. Perhaps he got into a fight and took a fatal blow, or he crashed a car while drunk. I don’t know. What I imagine is that he died after Eileen and under very sordid circumstances.

Severus didn’t even bother to collect his body from the morgue.

[plusvanity]

have u seen vargs new post on twitter about his daugther? that is so far-fetched and insane imo.

'Sentimental post by a failed father'

What a touching title from someone who, if the fact that he had a child previous to prison WASN'T public information, would take this secret to his grave.

This is another one of his uninspired attempts to 'clean his image' after a mistake that, unfortunately for him, the Internet never forgot about.

He did the most cowardly move that weak men do, he abandoned his child. But, it's not surprising at all. If anything, it must piss him off greatly to have to come up with excuses of why not raising her/ being part of her life is just her mother's fault and after all, he is also a victim of unfavorable life circumstances, etc, etc when it's all his fault.

If you care about your child, you want to be part of their life. That's a fact. You will do everything you can to fix that broken communication, to regain your child's trust, to get to know them for goodness sake, everything that a loving parent would do. But he preferred the easy way out (get out of prison, fuck off to France and start over like the past is irrelevant).

He may feel remorse now after so many years, but due to his laziness, he still lets things just be.

I can understand starting over, building a new family and everything but there is no excuse to abandon your other child like that. Let's not forget that he (when confronted with this inconvenient piece of information) referred to Rebeka as 'Ah, my teenage mistake.. ' this tells you everything about his actual indignation towards her and it's sick.

Fathers have a very important meaning in our lives. They teach us skills and confidence. In the first years of a child's life, the mother is the most important, and then in their adolescence, the father becomes more influential. It's a well-known fact that children who come from fatherless households struggle with social anxiety and a massive lack of confidence.

But in her case, unfortunately, it's better off this way. He wouldn't be a positive influence at all.

I believe he is a very absent father figure and absence will later speak out. Abuse doesn't have to imply only physical violence to be considered abuse. Both him and Marie abuses their children by restricting them access to the real world. His children will struggle with social rules when they finally grow up and move away. He may have one or two kids who marry young (an arranged marriage, for sure) and stay close to the family, but he cannot expect that all of his 7 children will do the same. The more you try to keep something away from someone, the more interested and curious about that thing they will become (of course, I'm talking about the real world that it's strictly controlled and restricted for those children).

I feel bad for Rebeka. She was born when Varg was only 19-20 years old (when Burzum's 1992 album was released by Øystein), quite close to when Helvete was shut down (1993).

She was briefly mentioned in Varg's judgment after being convicted for murder and arson, but the fact that he was a newborn child didn't mean anything for the court.

[callsign-dexter]

Blood Ties, Broken Bonds

Request: Hi !!!!

Could I ask for a Connor Rhodes imagine where the reader is his sister but they haven't had much contact as his ass of a dad kept you away from him, but you secretly always wanted to be near Connor. One time she gets delivered in the ED after a bad car accident you had and Connor is furious as he finds out that this just happened after another fight between you and your dad. You're out for a while and your Dad acts all innocent and wants to visit you but Connor doesn't even let him near you. After you woke up, you tell Connor that you don't wanna be away from him anymore and that you want your brother back, which he more than agrees to and he's just all happy and taking care of you :)

Pairings: Connor Rhodes x Sister!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, inaccurate medical talk, car crash, mentions and acts of abuse (mental, physical, and verbal) done by father, blood, broken bones

Masterlist

If it were up to you, you would have rather been raised by your brother, Connor Rhodes, when he turned 18 and left but that was not the case. Growing up you had a wonderful relationship with your brother, a bond that you couldn't break but when he left your father, Cornelius Rhodes, cut your contact with him to the minimum. So minimum that you only got one phone call and that was on your father's terms. The both of you hated it. Connor didn't come back until you were 14 years old and even though he was back it was still minimum contact. You eventually got another phone that Connor paid for and you could talk to him that way but you had to be sneaky, most of your friends, Connor, and Claire had the number of this phone. 

Your father was not a good man despite how he acted out in public. Behind the scenes he was abusive verbally, physically, and mentally. It was so bad that you refused to have what little friends you had over. If you think him cutting contact with your brother was bad, well he did it with your friends. If you went out with your friends he wanted to know where you were every hour on the hour and if you were a second late then you were getting in trouble. 

Fights in the household were not uncommon. It could have been over the simplest things like what to watch on TV and he always won. Multiple times you had stormed out of the house and driven until you were at your sister's, Claire Rhodes, house. You couldn't go to Connor because your father had put a tracking device on your car so he knew where you were going. If it was not a set destination then he would be calling and yelling at you, one time he called the police saying you stole the vehicle because you weren't at one of the set places. Thankfully you were able to get out of it when you told them it was your car and you had proof, and yes you had to buy your own car.

When your dad went out of town on the rare occasion, he actually let you stay with Connor which was a surprise to you and himself but you didn't argue. When you stayed with him, he got to see how bad it was at home. This is because all the things that your dad drilled into your head came out when visiting him and oh man it angered him so much. Connor has even gotten into fights with your dad but it just made things worse and even less contact with your big brother. Your dad tended to be forgetful that you were even there, so forgetful that sometimes you had to fend for yourself for food or not eat at all. He never bought food for you, you had to buy everything for yourself.

Your father had been just getting ready to leave for the week which means you could spend that week with your brother, finally. You had texted with the phone that Connor had gotten for you at the beginning of the week excited that you got to see him. 

Dad's gonna be gone for a week. Do you mind if I stay with you?

Big Bro: Not at all! Come over to my place after school. I'll be home.

Ok. I'm going to stop at home first for clothes and then the store and grab food.

Big Bro: No need. I got plenty of food at the house. You're welcome to it anytime.

Oh ok. Thank you.

Big Bro: No need to thank me. Does dad make you buy your own food?

Yea. Even if I buy it, he eats it. I love you, Big Bro.

Big Bro: I love you too, Sis. 

This made Connor see red. “That bastard.” Connor said aloud in the break room and Will Halstead just happened to be in there.

“What's up?” Will asked looking up from some files. Will had quickly become one of your favorites in the hospital, he was just fun to be around and was so funny. Also, the fact that he got on your brother's nerves from time to time was fun. You liked doing that but then again that's what little sisters are supposed to do.

“Apparently dad makes Y/N buy her own food for herself but still eats it. 

“Are you for real?” Will asked, now paying full attention to Connor. Connor nodded.

“Yup, he made her buy her own car and hardly let her talk to me. If she does it's very limited. He has such a grudge against me he's making her pay for it too by not seeing me.” He said 

“He's an ass. Didn't you buy her a phone?” Will asked and Connor nodded.

“Yup but even with that contact is still limited.” Connor said

“Have you thought of getting custody of her?” Will asked 

“Many many times but I know it'll be shot down. I can't prove anything. He's too powerful. He has a steady job and income coming in.” Connor said going to the fridge and grabbing a snack.

“You have a steady job and income coming in.” Will said

“I know. It's bad over there Will. He's mentally, physically, and verbally abusing her. I've been with her when he calls and he just cusses her out and degrades her. I can't prove anything. She's never come to the hospital for it so can't go off that. He has cop friends as well so I can't report that and she can't either.” Connor told his now best friend; it was rocky at first but they got over it. 

“I have a cop brother and you know he loves Y/N. Hell, all of Intelligence does, including Trudy. That would help major time. They would believe her more than your dad.” Will said getting up and walking over to grab something to eat out of the cabinet and then turned to look at Connor while leaning on the counter. Connor turned to look at him.

“True. Would that be enough?” He asked and Will shrugged.

“Maybe. She's been here multiple times to see you and everyone here loves her. They've seen the bruises and her wince in pain several times, I know I have. She doesn't do it in front of you or when she thinks anybody is looking. Dr. Charles has seen it and you know he would be the best to help you win that case. She's scared to say anything to you because she's afraid to tell anyone then he'll find out and punish her.” Will said and Connor was silent. It saddened him that you couldn't go to him, your big brother, because you were scared that if you told him then your father would find out and punish you. 

“How do you know that?” Connor asked

“She was in here a few days ago looking for you but you were in surgery. She told me after I called her out for wincing. I haven't told you because we've been so busy.” Will said. Connor wasn't mad at him; he knew they'd been busy. Connor was about to start talking when commotion in the ED grabbed their attention and they both ran out there to see Gabriela Dawson and Sylvie Brett roll through the doors pushing a gurney with Maggie Lockwood shouting and giving orders. She just happened to look up and see Connor and she gave him a look of pity. He knew that look, he looked over and saw you lying there and his heart sank. She looked at Will and they seemed to understand each other as Will grabbed Connor by the shoulders and began to drag him away. 

“Will!” Connor shouted but he ignored him. 

“Stay here. I'm going to go help.” He said and Connor nodded but Will knew he wouldn't stay put but at least he tried. Will took off and jumped right in. Connor waited maybe not even 5 seconds before he was barreling his way into chaos. He grabbed Gabriela Dawson and Sylvie Brett as they passed.

“What happened?” He asked 

“We were called to a car crash, your sister's, it looked like she was driving way too fast and hit a patch of black ice. The car flipped several times and then hit a pole. It also looked like someone rammed into it and pushed it down the hill, there wasn't another car there when we arrived it looked like a hit and run. It must've crashed through the ice and into the freezing water because that is where we found her. Her lips were blue and she was very hypothermic and her heart rate was super slow but we got everything under control and got her warmed up.” Sylvie said, not wanting to tell him that it was your dad that rammed your car until further evidence, as Connor's face drained of color. 

“She was unresponsive when we got there but she quickly woke up. When asked why she was driving fast, she said that she had just had a fight with your guy's dad. She also has bruises in the form of handprints around her throat like she was being choked and he slammed her head against the wall. We lost her once and had to do CPR but we got her back.” Gabriela added 

“Fucking hell. I'll fucking kill that son of a bitch.” He said and then looked at the two girls. “Thank you for responding to her. She wouldn't want anyone else.” He said and they smiled and nodded.

“We love that kid.” Gabriela said “The whole firehouse does.” She added and that made him smile. “We gotta go.” She said and he nodded.

“Thank you again.” He said 

“Not a problem.” They said and they were out the door and he turned back to your room in time to see you being taken to surgery. He saw Dr. Crockett Marcel leading the way, he then stopped Will.

“What's going on?” Connor asked

“She has some internal bleeding that needs to be taken care of and a broken arm. She also has some broken ribs from the seat belt and they are doing CPR on her.” He said. Connor just stood still as Will and Crockett rushed you off. He wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know now.

—-----------

You were happy. Your dad was leaving for a week and that meant you could actually spend time with your big brother that you loved oh so much. You had the biggest smile on your face as you drove home towards school to grab some clothing and then off to Connor's place. As you pulled up into the driveway you were surprised to see your dad's car parked in the driveway, ice ran through your veins. He was supposed to be gone. You parked your car in the driveway next to your dad's and got out after turning the car off and hesitantly walked inside. Once inside your eyes locked on your dad's “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be gone.” You said.

“Change of plans. I'm going tomorrow.” He said casually.

“But I was supposed to go to Connor's after I grabbed some clothes.” You said and when you said his name his face darkened.

“You're not going. It's final.” He said a little more aggressively.

“No, I'm going. This was the plan.” You said standing up for yourself but that seemed to be a mistake because now you were slammed up against the wall. Your dad holding the collar of your shirt. You were in shock. The breath had been knocked out of you.

“You are not going and that is final.” He growled out. His eyes were hardened and you started to tremble. 

“You can't do this. You promised when you're away I can stay with him.” You said his hand went to your throat and started to squeeze it, cutting the air supply off. 

“Well, I'm not leaving now. So, cancel it.” He said and slammed your head against the wall and stars appeared. 

“No, I won't. I'm going to stay with him.” You said barely getting the words out. He growled and released your throat and you coughed and took deep breaths in. 

“You will not see him ever again. You won't talk to him ever again. That's final.” He said, “Give me your phone.” He said and you gave him the one he got for you and you watched him grab it and take it over to the counter. He threw it there and grabbed a hammer from the drawer and smashed it. Tears streamed down your face, thankfully you still had Connor's phone that he had given you in your car.

“That's my phone!” You cried out. “How else am I supposed to let you know where I'm atm?” You asked.

“Easy. You stay home 24/7. You homeschool. You will also come to conferences and such with me.” He said walking over to you 

“No! I won't!” You yelled and shoved him and he stumbled back.

“Yes, you will! You're my daughter and you will do what I say!” He roared out. 

“No! I wish you weren't my dad!” You yelled 

“Yea? Well, I wish you were never born! You're just a whore like your mother. Maybe you should end up like her!” He yelled back and what he said made you freeze and grow wide eyed. 

“I hate you! I wish Connor was my guardian!” You yelled 

“Maybe he should be. It would get you off my hands. Then I could bring anybody I want to fuck and not have you here.” He said 

“You already do that.” You said “It doesn't matter. I'm leaving.” You said and started to storm out but he was quicker and grabbed the back of your hoodie and pulled back choking you again slamming you down on the ground. He flipped you over and you started to fight as he startled you and wrapped his hands around your throat. You found strength you didn't know you had and pushed him off of you. You were quick to scramble to get up and out the door grabbing your keys. You got to your car and quickly got in and tore out of there through the lawn not bothering to back up. Grass and snow were thrown but you didn't care. You got onto the main road and took off. Tears streaked down your face, the events playing through your mind. You don't know how fast you were going but all of a sudden you were spinning out of control, black ice you had just hit black ice. 

Your world was now spinning. You tried to control it but that just caused the car to flip, flip at least 6 times. Luckily it landed up right but then you slid into a pole crushing the passenger side. When it finally came to a stop you could breathe but then a car was barreling at you. You saw the headlights and squinted but you had no time to react because it was slamming into you hard enough to throw you to the side and further onto the pole snapping it in half. It just happened to be an electric wooden pole and that sent lines flying and electric flying. You barely got a glance of the car as he drove off. What you saw made you cry; it was your father's car he was trying to kill you. As your car rolled down the hill and threw you around and knocked your head every which way your thoughts went to your big brother. You wanted Connor. You wanted to be safe in his arms watching some cheesy stupid medical show and him making fun of it. You wanted his food. You thought about how you wanted him as your car broke through ice and plunged into the chilly water and your world went black as your head hit the steering wheel.

—-----------

Firehouse 51 was actually for once after a stressful call they had come back from. They probably were able to relax for a good 4 hours before the alarms were going off once again. 

“Engine 51, Truck 81, Rescue Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Hit and run. Car in water. Location: Ellington Way.” 

Everyone geared up and started their way to the location. “This does not sound good. We need to get Intelligence involved.” Kelly Severide said over the radio to Chief Wallace Boden. 

“I agree. I'll get on it.” He said as everyone pulled up to the scene. They could see the skid and slide marks. Soon Boden was giving orders and Kelly was going into the water. 

“Fuck, I know this car.” He said through his mic.

“Whose is it?” Boden asked

“Y/N Rhodes.” Kelly replied. “Alright, Kid. Let's get you out of here.” He said to himself and started to carefully. It took some time but he was pulling you out and surfacing the top. Everyone worked together to get you out and onto a gurney as Intelligence pulled up. You started to slowly rouse when they started to put heat and a blanket on you. “Hey there, Baby Rhodes.” Kelly said as Sylvie and Gabriela started to work on you. 

“He tried to kill me.” You mumbled

“Jay!” He yelled out at Jay Halstead and he walked over “What was that, Kid?” Kelly asked wanting someone else to hear what he was hearing.

“Dad, tried to kill me. He crashed into my car after I wrecked.” You said and then started to fall back to sleep.

“Alright, we’ll look into it.” Jay said and then he nodded “Why were you driving so fast?” Jay asked.

“I had a fight with Dad. I had to get away.” You said and he nodded and then looked at the two girls and they were quickly loading you up and before you knew it you were speeding down the street towards Med, towards your brother. As you were racing towards Med Gabriela started her assessment

“Lips are blue and she is still cold to the touch.” She said and then slid a thermometer into your ear and it quickly beeped. “Temp is 95 F.” She added and then grabbed her stethoscope and put it to your chest “Heart rate is slow. Starting warm fluids.” She finished and started to do as she said. Suddenly you started to flatline “Shit, she is coding! Starting CPR!” She shouted and she did so.

“We are 3 minutes out!” Sylvie said and then your heart started again. “How are we back there?” She asked.

“Got her back.” She said and sighing. Finally, you arrived at Med and were quickly rushed in and they quickly got you in a bay. Marcel was quick to jump in and so was Will. “Y/N Rhodes, Female, 16 years old. Spun out on black ice, hit a pole, was rammed by another car and pushed it down the bank and into a frozen lake. Hypothermic but started the warming process on the way here, started warm fluids, she flatlined once and had to do CPR but got her back pretty quick. She has bruises in the form of handprints around her throat like she was being choked and he slammed her head against the wall.” Gabriela said and he nodded and as they finished transferring you to a bed. The two girls left and now everyone was working on you. 

“Continue the warming process.” He said and looked up at the monitor “Temperature is coming up. I want to get x-rays here.” He said and one was brought in.

“We also need an ultrasound.” Will said as noticed the bruising around your stomach.

“What do you see?” Marcel asked 

“Bruising on her stomach and it is discolored.” He said and then touched it “It’s also warm and soft.” He said and Marcel nodded as an ultrasound was brought in and done and it was confirmed that there was internal bleeding. “We need to get her into surgery now.” Will said.

“She also has a broken arm that needs to be set and broken ribs. We need to go now.” He confirmed and so they started to do so. As they were moving you Connor grabbed Will.

“What the hell is going on?” He asked 

“She has some internal bleeding that needs to be taken care of and a broken arm. She also has some broken ribs from the seat belt and they are doing CPR on her.” Will said “We got to go.” He said and Connor nodded and they set off. 

—-----------

As he was waiting nervously, he noticed Jay and Hailey Upton walk in and wasn’t concerned but then he walked up to Connor and now he was confused. “What’s up?” Connor asked.

“I have some news on Y/N’s crash.” Jay said and Connor nodded and led him to the doctor’s lounge. 

“So?” Connor asked

“There were cameras where she crashed and we found something that you’re not going to like. After Y/N crashed into the pole a car came and crashed into her side and made it roll down the hill and into a frozen lake.” Jay said and Connor nodded.

“Sylvie and Gabriela told me that part.” Connor said

“The car that crashed into hers was your dad’s.” Hailey said and Connor was speechless. 

“We have a warrant out for his arrest for attempted murder. We also got a judge to sign immediate custody papers for you to be her sole and legal guardian.” Jay said and Connor looked at him speechless. 

“Wait. Really?” Connor asked and Jay nodded.

“Really. How is she?” Jay asked

“Still in surgery but Will and Marcel have high hopes of good recovery.” Connor said and Jay smiled and nodded. Will came in and saw Connor.

“Hey, Jay and Hailey. Connor, she’s out of surgery and in a room, you can see her. Room 246. Chart is at the end of bed.” Will said and Connor nodded.

“Thank you.” He said and then he, Jay, and Hailey headed to your room as Will’s pager beeped and had to leave. They walked to the room and Connor was in tears and walked in as the other two stayed outside.

“Oh, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry. I won’t let anything bad happen to you again.” He said and bent down to kiss your forehead. He looked up when heard some commotion and saw the one person he didn’t want to see, your guys’ father. He looked down at you seeing that you were still asleep and kissed your forehead one more time and walked angrily outside. “What the hell are you doing here?” He asked.

“What do you mean? I’m here for my daughter. I told her not to go out driving but she didn’t listen to me.” He said and Connor saw red “How is she?” He asked. 

“You tried to kill her.” Connor said 

“That is not true.” He said

“Actually yes, it is. We have it on camera. Cornelius Rhodes you are under arrest for the attempted murder of your daughter, Y/N Rhodes, immediate custody and sole guardianship is to go to Connor Rhodes.” Jay said as he started to put cuffs on him.

“I did no such thing.” Cornelius said 

“Yes, you did. Jay, please arrest him.” Connor pleaded and Jay nodded and grabbed his cuffs and started the process.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" Jay said 

“I understand.” Cornelius said and Jay nodded and they led him out of the hospital in cuffs. Connor walked back into the room and sat down and took your hand, you had warmed up considerably. 

“He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re staying with me for now and forever.” Connor whispered and listened to your heart beat. “Please be alright and wake up. I need you, Sis.” He said and kissed your hand.

 —-----------

6 hours later you were slowly waking up to bright lights and you groaned which woke Connor up. “Con?” You asked as your eyes opened more and he was quick to stand up and lean over you.

“I’m here, Sis. How are you feeling?” He asked

“Hurts.” You said and he smiled sympathetically.

“I’m sure it does, you have some broken bones and ribs.” He said 

“He tried to kill me.” You said

“I know. It’s taken care of.” He said not wanting to overwhelm you with information. 

“I don’t want to be with him anymore. I want to live with you.” You said and he smiled.

“You aren’t going to be living with him any longer. You’re going to be living with me.” He said and you smiled and you started to close your eyes again. “Go back to sleep. Rest.” He said and you nodded and went back to sleep.

—-----------

A few days later you were out of the hospital and being guided into Connor’s huge apartment. He helped you every step of the way. While you were out, he went to his father’s house and picked up all of your stuff. “Where do you want to sit right now?” He asked.

“The couch.” You said and he nodded and helped guide you over and helped you sit down. 

“I’m going to get your medication out and ready and I’ll bring it to you in a minute, ok?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“Ok.” You said and got comfortable. The bruises were still there and he saw red when he saw them. He walked into the kitchen and did what he said he was going to do and then was bringing it out to you with something to drink. He sat down and handed the pills to you and you put them in your mouth and took the drink and washed them down. Once the water was gone you leaned back and closed your eyes and he smiled and he put the now empty glass on the table. He got comfortable and then you were snuggling into him. He smiled and kissed your temple. He turned on the TV and turned the volume low. “Con?” You asked.

“Hmmmm?” He asked

“Thank you for being the best big brother.” You said and smiled.

“Thank you for being the best little sister.” He said and you chuckled but groaned. “You, ok?” He asked and you opened your eyes and looked at him.

“Yea, my ribs just hurt.” You said and he nodded.

“Those painkillers should be kicking in soon. That should go away.” He said

“What happened to dad?” You asked and he sighed he knew this was coming.

“He was arrested for attempting to murder you. He rammed into your car and pushed it down a hill and into a frozen lake.” He said and you nodded. “But he is never going to be near you or have custody of you ever. You’re stuck with me forever, well until you're 18 and then it becomes your decision.” He said and nodded.

“Good. I love you, Big Bro.” You said 

“I love you too, Lil’ Sis.” He said 

Now that you live with your big brother you have freedom and can do what you want and hang out with who you want. Life was finally turning around for the good and you had Connor to thank for that. All it took was a car accident and your dad trying to murder you but you were with the one person that you should’ve been with a while ago. You may have had blood ties to your father but that bond was broken and it had been broken for a while but now you were safe now. Safe with Connor and he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

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°𝄞 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 °𝄞

☆ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 ☆

"March 21 1986"

♬♪ 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♬♪

ᯓ★ next chapter ★ᯓ

✶࿐ Summary : your heart was heavy and you just wanted to disappear in the world, you stumbled a peculiar old record store and jumped back into 1986

✶࿐ Word Count : help, I'm making a new series again lol

✶࿐ Warnings : 18+ Eddie Munson x Future!FEM!reader, cursing, use of y/n, time travel, comedy, sci-fic, drama, slight family arguments, slight toxic!household, invalidating mental health, slight misogyny, slight physical abuse, I added a character named "Veronica", reader and Eddie are both (20), reader is very defensive when it comes to Hawkins history, a description of reader wearing "Nirvana" long sleeve, ripped jeans, black classic converse, no mention of reader's race/eye color/hair color, reader lives in 2024, that's about it!

✶࿐ What to Expect : it's all the same characters from "Stranger Things" but I wrote them as if they "exist" in real life, I made them as if they were "historical heroes" in Hawkins!

✶࿐ Note To Reader : this is inspired from my tv shows that I loved, I'll be just getting some of the ideas but I promise this will be good and original! very fast paced and hopefully my writing has some improvements! 💗

✶࿐ Author Note : I just hope that you'll love this another world that I created! I've been wanting to do this for so long, please, don't forget to support me! your simple likes, reblogs and comments will always be highly appreciated! 🥺🫶🏻✨

𓆩♱𓆪 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𓆩♱𓆪

❦ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙖'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙜𝙚 ❦

"Y/N, get up"

"But, I don't want to-"

"I said- get up now" your mom's voice is firm as she sighs as she walks out of your room

You groaned on the other side of your bed as you tried to shut your eyes but it seems like you're not so sleepy anymore, so, you begrudgingly sit up from your bed

"Your father is waiting downstairs, I prepared breakfast" she says when she passed by your doorframe again

You scoff at that as you tied your hair back and you stand up and went into the bathroom to wash your face

You don't want to eat with him, all he ever does is to spoil everything with his hot tempered behavior

Eating with your family was fun sometimes but you just can't ignore your dad's attitude

You love him but also the same time you hate him

It's so mentally draining that you wanted him to change, you always rooted for him to change but he never does and it drives you mad that you and you mom has to endure

You saw him as you went down by the stairs, he's now scarfing down eggs and bacon

You manage to restrain an eye roll to his presence as you headed towards at the kitchen to grab a glass and pour yourself a water

"It's a miracle that you get outside of your room" he says as he takes a sip of his coffee

Your mom clocked you and gave you a look that says "don't make a scene" , you squeezed your eyes shut as you take a deep breath and you drink your glass of water

It's literally 7am in the goddamn morning

You decided not to join him over at the table as you prepared your plate with the food that your mom make and you grab your mug for your coffee

You overheard the conversation of your mom and dad as you stirred your coffee the fact that it's still a bit hot but it didn't let you stop by drinking the half of it as you chew down aggressively on eggs and bacon

"She's having a hard time, go easy on her"

"Does she have depression? If she does that's bullshit"

Your ears are ringing and the voices from your parents are blurred out from the feeling that you're having, you're heavily breathing

You take the empty mug and plate as you let it clatter on the sink making their attention snap at you

You looked over to them and your dad as fucking as always looks at you like you've done something wrong

It's always been like that, everytime you tried your best, everytime you won a trophy or had an achievement, it is never enough for him

It is ironic that he's complaining about your condition when he's the cause of it, that's why you have this

You hate that he's always comparing you to other students saying that you're not smart and pretty enough

And your mom was always the one who never fails to make you smile most of the time

What the fuck happened? Back then when you're a kid, you like your father until you realized that's why when in family reunions you always caught those looks like "oh, god, he is going to ruin the party"

Yeah, he's maybe caring and do all of the stuff that a father needs to do, he filled his shoes with that

You just despise his generational trauma qualities

All you wanted was a understanding father, if he only just be like your mom it would be so great

"You're the one who is bullshit" you say as your mom winced and releases a deep sigh as she holds your dad's shoulders

"What a disrespectful child! You have no right to talk to me like that!" He shouts out loud as you went to the stairs to your room as you slam your door

You're still panting as you swallow the lump in your throat as you walk through your closet taking out your "Nirvana" long sleeve, denim ripped jeans and socks for your black converse

You tried to avoid the thoughts running through your head as you still heard the muffled sounds from the voices of your parents downstairs

You take a shower as you let the warm water hits your skin as you open the cap from your shampoo as you massage it through your scalp this somehow soothes you

You pour the body wash on your loofah as you scrubbed your entire body

You wrapped a towel on your hair and your body as you brushed your teeth and mouthwashed

You placed your palms on each side of your sink as you turn off the faucet as you look yourself on the mirror

You know you're not proud of what you're going through, you can't even feel anything, you can't do anything to cheer you up, nothing else makes you feel any better

That's why you always try to distract yourself like lathering a lotion to your body, putting on some minimal makeup and spritz a perfume on your pulse points

You still feel....horrible

You feel like the worst daughter on earth

You put all of your stuff inside of your knapsack as you put it over your shoulder

You click your tongue that you almost forgot your charger for your phone and powerbank as you finally take the leave out of your room

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

You carefully took down the steps as you looked around at the place for your dad

It's just his voice that make your bones jitter

"He left" your mom spoke beside you as she hangs her head slightly low

You saw the red patch on your mom's arm that it looks swollen as she dismissively wave her hand in front of you

Your jaw clenched as she hugs you and place a kiss on your cheek, you sigh in defeat, you know for sure she doesn't want to talk about it

"I'll see you later, Mom" you gave her a small smile as she nods

You looked over at your smart watch and it says 8:30am, you're going to be late because class starts at 9am as you huff in annoyance

You start walking as you begin to fish inside of your pockets and take out your wired earphones as you plug it in your phone

*Mike + The Mechanics - The Living Years starts playing*

You associate this song with your dad, if he only took down his pride and start willingly without judgement ask you about how you feel, you would do it in a heartbeat

A car slowly following you as you heard the non-stop beeping, you take off one of your earphones as you turn around

"Hey! Why are you walking? Hop in!" Veronica shouts as she lifts herself to talk over the car window

You chuckle as you shake your head as you jog over at the passenger's seat

Right, you forgot she'll come over and give you a lift to school

Her smile fades when she sees your lost expression on your eyes as you forced a smile on her

"I'm here" she says and you got taken aback from her side hug as she pats your back

You smile fondly as you pulled back, "Come on, Vee, we're going to be late for class!"

"Can I just hug my bestfriend for a minute?"

You chuckle, "I appreciate it, now, step on it!" you point at her as she laughs

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

"I don't blame Jason Carver for reacting that way, if I were him on his position, I would've done the same"

You scoff at that, this debate in your history class is taking forever, Veronica can feel your patient is hitting on its limit

"It's 2024 and Hawkins is still a shitshow"

"Goddamn right"

"Oh- what was that Y/N L/N? care for you to join us?" One of the students called you out as you can feel your eyes are going to stuck behind due to over rolling your eyes too much

You mock him a smile, "Yes, I do think I have something to share" as you stand up and went in front

"Oh shit" Veronica smirks as you slightly hit her shoulder

"You know it is never right to kill someone who is innocent"

"Well, how do you know Eddie Munson is innocent? Were you there? You don't know what is like finding out about your girlfriend killed in a freaky way"

"For starters, Jason didn't have any proof, he doesn't have evidence that Eddie Munson did this"

"Have you completely forgotten that his girlfriend was found on his trailer?"

"No, I didn't, just because it happened there doesn't mean he was the one who did it"

"Jason still remains the only right-"

"I won't support a madman who is willingly to kill someone who is innocent and always claiming that Eddie was the main suspect without proper evidence, Jason showed every disturbing behavior towards the people of Hawkins, many people admitted that he brainwashed and twisted every word that happened while looking for Eddie, he turned everyone against him who obviously wasn't supposed to be the one being pressed on and also let's not forget the fact that he punched Lucas Sinclair almost bludgeoning killing him and what for? Why would he do that to Lucas? Was he desperate? Is he frustrated for not having the chance to punch Eddie in the face like he always desired to do, so, instead he poured his anger everything to Lucas? and he wasn't even Eddie, Eddie was the one he was looking for right? Why hitting him the face to a pulp? that just goes to show that he is in fact the one who is dangerous, You missed out that his sister, Erica Sinclair spoken about it publicly on a TV program back in 2001 interviewing him about how his brother almost died because of Jason Carver."

Before your debater speak again, you didn't let it this time

"Have you completely forgotten, the massive earthquake that happened back in 1986? that's where the locals find out that Eddie wasn't the one who is doing those curses all along"

You looked around over your classmates and you saw one of them nodding along to your words

"Henderson, Dustin Henderson, he published a book in 1994 writing about his interaction with his dear friend Eddie Munson and he still keeps saying the same thing until now that he will always be innocent"

"Are you saying that Jason Carver is a villain?"

"No, he is just blinded by the wrong belief's and he needs a guidance for anything else"

Your teacher applauded you and the rest of class did too, your debater slumped both of his shoulders

"A+ for you, Miss Y/N" she smiles at you

"Thanks a lot, freak" he hits your shoulder aggressively making you wince at it as you shook your head sideways

"So much for not accepting losses, does he know sport?" You throw your hands up

The bell rings as it now time for lunch and everyone is leaving out of the room as you watch your bestfriend, Veronica, coming at you and hooking a hand around your forearm

"It's a delight to see him butthurt because he was defeated by a woman and he can't accept it because he has LDS"

"What's LDS?"

"Little Dick Syndrome"

You bursted out laughing as it echoes in the hallway, both of you didn't care as you went inside of the cafeteria

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

Veronica dropped you off in your house after school

You stand in front of your house as you caught the screen door hitting back and forth as if someone break in, you immediately went alerted mode

Once you carefully walked inside, you saw every furniture is broken and every picture is torn into shreds as you looked for your mom, the moment she's in your sight, you kneel down and took off the bag from your shoulder

"Why are you here?" She's still shaking as you placed your palms over your her shoulders

"What-" you knitted your brows together as you went confused about her remark

"Why are you like this?" She saids when she ripped out from your hold as she stands up

"Mom- are you okay-" you stood up as you went to follow her

"I'm trying to fix this family and why do you always have to spoil it?"

You know what happened while you're away, they both had another heated argument

"I know- you're upset, mom-" you sigh as you picked up your bag

"Why are you like this?" She glares at you and you perplexed why she's blaming this on you

"Excuse me?" You tilt your head

"Why the fuck are you like this?" She gave you an outburst, you didn't have to let this thing get into you but you can't help since you're only a human being

You can't help to have feelings, so, you went defensive

"Mom, I didn't ask for to be like this-" you tried to steady your voice but it cracked the time your eyes went glossy

"Why don't you just suck it up!" She yelled those words as you flinched by the tone of her voice

Your eyes widen but then again it fades when there's a darker cloud is going over to your head overthinking

Your mom had a bad day and you know it's not your fault but you just had enough of it

"You want me to disappear, then so be it" you voice is stern as you turn you back and walk away

You forgot to look back at your mother's eyes, it flickered with regret as it welled up in tears when she realizes what she has done

She didn't had the chance to keep up to you when you're already running miles away

"Oh no- wait- please! Y/N!" Your mom called out to you but you kept running and running

You put your palms over your knees as you pant and step aside from the road

You started walking as you hang your head low

Your try not to think about it, you hate your family, you hate this town and the people in it

"God- I hate this place" you murmured as you kick the tiny pebbles on the ground

When you reached at the abandoned Starcourt Mall, you've never talked or spoken about to anyone else that you feel like you're been there before but you can't place it

Your brows are pulled together as you try to understand it, you also have these weird dreams that keep flashing whenever you're in a deep sleep

Was that a dream? Or is it a memory?

It feels so real, you glanced over the chain leather bracelet on your wrist

You can't recall when did you get that or you didn't even know if you bought it for yourself

It just so happens that it's there

You can't even explain how you got the same cap that Dustin wore, but for some reason, you hide it your closet

Also the faint scars on your neck, it's not gnarly but when you look closer there's something in there

Sometimes, you don't even feel like this world that you woke up to isn't real, it's like you're walking inside of a made up world or a like projector

You started to walk slowly when you only can recollect of the memories that you had with your "family"

But what about the questionable stuff that you have on you?

You might be sounded delusional but why did you have things from the heroes of Hawkins?

You looked over to your right and saw their monumental statue filled with their names on the bottom

"The Fearless Hawkins Indiana Heroes"

You don't know why but you always lingered your stare at a one specific person's name that is engraved on the marbled stone

Why does it feel like you knew him? not only knew him but you feel like you've been with him and it grows something bigger and much more deeper

But then again, you get a hold of yourself because if he's still alive today he would've been 60+ years old by now

This was supposed to make you feel even more sad if you walked around these monuments of them but you feel comfortable and close to them

This place was your sanctuary whenever you feel you don't like to get home early

There's a group photo that is displayed in the front center

You step forward as you tried to inspect the picture

Your eyes goes big as you can recognize the person beside.....Eddie? The Eddie Munson?

You can't see your face clearer that much because you're hiding from the camera and someone definitely captured your photo together all of the sudden

It's the same shirt and jeans that you're wearing right now

"No- that's impossible" you feel boneless and your cheeks lost its color as you try to blink more than once

You might think your mind is just playing with you but it doesn't even goes away

You're still in the picture, it doesn't have to be creepy but you feel alarmed by all of this

This is all becoming too much for you to let it all sink in

So, you left the historical place as you walked faster and faster

You ignore that you crossed the abandoned Family Video

You halt your tracks when you pass by a building that you never seen before

You move your head side to side as you swallow the bile in your throat as you walked closer to it

You don't know why but something else is pulling you inside and to your senses, it feels safe for some reason?

From all of the buildings that you went to, this looks new and it's looked nice inside

It's a record store, it's filled with vinyls, tapes, CD's

You got jumped by the presence of a older man but he looks familiar to you the moment he appeared in the front desk

You will never ever understand why that he looked at you like that

He got this knowing look in his eyes, this was supposed to make you feel weird, you can just turn your heel and walk away but you didn't

"I believe you will like this one"

He slides a "Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" tape in front of you

Now, this is even got more odd to you, is that even a coincidence that he knew your favorite song?

"I'm sorry- wait- how did you"

"Oh shoot, I forgot to wear my name tag"

There he goes in the backroom as you frustratedly sigh

This is a very a bad idea but a stranger? gave you a tape?

But, you still took it nonetheless as you looked for your vintage walkman as you placed the tape inside

You put on the headset and the moment you start to press play

Your hands begin to swirled in the air, you panicked as it goes everywhere

There's like a lazer boom sound and it all happens too fast and now you're standing in the same place but you're in the middle of the woods as the peculiar building is now long gone and from what you know

The morning has already passed and from where you were earlier is already noon

You stopped the tape as you remove the headset and put it all to your bag as you try to walk around the area

"That....was....very....trippy" you said as you try to brush it off what just happened

The time you stepped in the road, you saw a lot of retro cars and you didn't even noticed the people inside of it, of what they look like but the moment all you can see is from the 1980's cars on the road you started to feel strange

You shake your head and you made up your mind that you're only just hungry that's why you're seeing things as you headed to home but then you remember that you had a homework for English class and you forgot to bring home your book, so, you groaned in annoyance as you walked to school

When you reached your destination, you gasped

Why does everyone looked like from those pictures you saw in your school library?

When you looked some of the students, you've been getting these eccentric looks from them, it's not offending, they don't even looked disgusted

It's just that it looks like you're in....No- no- no- absolutely not we're not going down there

You've noticed they tried to read what's in your shirt and you try to stealth your moves as you walked forward

Oh my god, it gets even more bizarre when you stepped inside

This doesn't looked like your school, you know that your school got renovated so there's a lot of changes in it

You're so crazy for thinking like this, you're crazy for asking it

"Um- I'm sorry, can I ask what date and year is it?" You asked one of the students in the locker

"Oh, sure, no problem, it's March 21 1986"

You need to restrain the shock from your face from what she just said "March 21 1986?" You say it again

"Yes, that's right! Wait- I'm gonna get to class now, bye!" She saids as she picked up her stuff from the locker and jogs away

"Oh my god.....oh my god- I'm in the past?" You whisper-shout as you try to calm down

You're so bamboozled as you looked at the tape again, now, you know why you're here

It's because of the tape that you played not an hour ago

You pinch yourself, you try to slap your cheek but no to avail, you're not dreaming

This is real and you're here

How will you ever get the fuck out of here?

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" He ruffles his hair as the boy winces from his action, no way, that's Mike Wheeler

You're still walking around inside trying to figure how to escape this and then you heard his voice

You try to find him until your eyes landed on him

Jesus Christ, the few pictures that you saw from him in the books don't even do justice

He looks even better in person, he looks so handsome, you admiring Edward Munson from afar

You rolled your eyes to yourself when you find yourself harboring a crush over some dead guy, not even just some dead guy

He's a hero, if only the Hawkins knew what he is like

He has always been described in the real authentic books that you read that he is kind, gentle, playful, full of wonder, very caring to those people who is exactly like him, an outcast

Now, you're seeing it for yourself right between your very eyes, it feels so different in person, you always had been so defensive when it comes to his personal life, out of all the history in Hawkins, he's the only one that you ever truly cared for as if you knew him in real life, you've never even met him until now whatever this is, even if it's real or not, you're so honored to come by this close to him you became even more empathetic to him when you saw how he truly behaves while he was still alive

Your smile slowly drops when you realized that he doesn't even know, no one else in the group knows what will happen to him

All of the nasty things that people talked about him in the past and even in the future

You will never forget when in 2022, you saw the news that they lifted the case that he was truthfully innocent

When they should've done it years ago

Is this the reason why you're in here? To help them? To help him?

The bell rings that made you snap out of your thoughts and everyone is walking towards to the cafeteria as you follow suit

Oh shit, are you witnessing the moment of history that just happened here?

You shudder when you saw Jason Carver, god- his great grandson looks like just like him and acts like him too, you try not to barf thinking about it, his stupid descendants still spreading lies until now, you can't believe they have the privilege to do that

Enough of about the Carvers, holy shit- he got a fat ass point on his speech as you watch him strut his way in the table

You know D&D, but you never played it, now, seeing it unfold, god- he is so serious about it

Dustin was right, it is a sadistic campaign

The fact that you take a step back because you know damn well they wouldn't believe you if you told them what will happen to Eddie later

But, there's a force that is pulling you here and whatever you try to hesitate, you will still go for it

Especially you can't even stand by it for your conscience even though is already written in the books

What is done, is done, what happened, happened

Can you somehow change the past? Can you undo the events that happened back then?

will Hawkins, can be peaceful when you manage to remove the curse in the town?

You will have to wait until....He'll met Chrissy

Oh shit, right, he's going to sell K to the Queen of Hawkins High

But, first, you'll have to know her favorite song, so, you can save her and Eddie won't be a wanted man

If only it was easy to plan it, you know they can't just believe you, but you will try

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

You saw Chrissy in the woods, acting all horror-struck as she looked everywhere and when you follow her gazes, you see nothing else that you can see that is terrifying, you ran up to her

When she almost tripped herself as she goes backwards, she bumped into you as she shrieked

Instead, you're the one who got bumped behind your back to Eddie

"Woah, woah, hey- I'm sorry- I didn't mean to scare you" he smiles all dimples are shown but confusion is etched immediately to his features when he looked at you

"You okay?" He looked over to your shoulder as he asks Chrissy

She didn't respond, she's still looking at the tree with fearful eyes

Eddie looked where she is looking as he gotten more confused

You hold both of her shoulders to swing her around to face you

"Hi, sorry, I know you don't know me but you gotta believe me, I know what frightens you"

She squints her eyes a little bit but the terror is still present as she looked at Eddie who is puzzled

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"I know why you wanted to buy drugs to Eddie"

He moved beside you as he tries to understand the situation, he wanted to cut off the scenario but something tells him that you're saying the truth

"What-"

"I know you seeing things, Chrissy"

She's trembling under your touch as her eyes starts forming tears on her waterline

"I-I don't-"

"You saw the grandfather clock"

Her eyes widen when you knew what she saw

"How did you-"

"You heard chimed 3 times"

"You're scaring her, now, back off" He clicked his tongue as he gestures you move away

You sigh in defeat as you follow to what he just said as Eddie pulls Chrissy behind his back

Chrissy who is now stunned at how accurate the things that you just said

He roams his eyes at you from top to bottom, and he got curious at the picture that looked like a band from your long sleeve

"Who are you, anyway?" He asks you as he crosses both of his arms

"That's not for you to know" my god- his eyes are so pretty, what the fuck- okay, Y/N focus!

You tried to get close to Chrissy who has this hopeful eyes at you

"Chrissy, let me help you-" you walked closer but Eddie blocks your way

"Hey, I told you to back off!" He gave you a pointed look

"I'm trying to save her life!" You exclaimed, you missed the way Chrissy has become shaken

"What?" He shakes his head in confusion

Chrissy blinks rapidly as she's the one who went in front of Eddie

You stare at her, watching her intently as you see her nod slowly, meaning that she wants you to elaborate

"I know exactly who is the person behind calling your name out of nowhere, other people can't see it when you're in a trance, but I know it is real, he got you cursed because he likes to target people who are traumatized by their life events" you explained as you pause taking deep breaths

You continue "You buy drugs to Eddie just so you can be distracted from all of the things that you're seeing, when you ran out, that's where it all comes back again"

"Who is he?" Eddie scratches the back of his neck

"Vecna" you plainly said

"I'm sorry, but how can you be so sure that she is for real?!?" Eddie chuckles lightly as he looked down to Chrissy

There is only one way to find out that you're actually saying the truth

"Do you know what he looked like?" Chrissy softly speaks as she swallowed tightly

"I can't describe the perfect word for him but he's tall, has a lot of vines going over his neck, he has powers just by using his hand he can control over you like a snap, he looked like a.....monster"

"What a fucking shit show, are you buying-" he stopped when he heard the faint sniffles and the sharp gasp that she just let out

"She's telling the truth, Eddie" She gulped as she looked up to him and she went frantic when she glanced at you

"Okaaaaaay, I don't know what the hell is going on and from what I know I was only to meet Chrissy here not you, you just spawned out of nowhere and your clothes-" Eddie starts to ramble as he wipes his face with his palm

"Wait- no, don't go- Chrissy!" You tried to chase her but it was too late, she is gone from your vision

"If I were her, I would do the same thing"

"Like what-"

"Running away from you"

You scoff, "Eddie, I am trying to save a life here and you too"

He dramatically taken aback as he mocks a gasp, "What about me?"

God, he can be such a cute nerd dork but he's also a pain in the ass

"You don't believe me right? Let's just say after your D&D campaign later will be successful with your Hellfire Club and the sub that you demanded to Dustin and Mike will be Erica Sinclair because Lucas can't be there because of the laundry baskets game" you gesture to his shirt he tries to speak but you beat him to it as you continue, "when you go home, Chrissy will be there with you because she wanted something more stronger than you just offered but since I came here first to warn her, the deal didn't happen, so, I guess this will be the only time for you to be free to walk around"

"Free? From who?"

"From the police" you walk away with that and you didn't even bother to wait for his reply

"that's such bullshit, I didn't even know her name" he shooked his head as he left the woods

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

Eddie wanted to drop the scenario that happened with you earlier

But, his mind won't shut up if you're right all along

You we're right that Erica is the sub

The campaign went well, too well

"Hey, Henderson" he gathered all of his stuff back on his bag

"Yeah?" Dustin replies as he helps Eddie to clean up

"I met up with Chrissy earlier in the woods but someone else is there"

"Shit, was it Jason?"

"No- not him, it's another girl but-"

"But?"

"She's different, she acts different and even her clothes are out of the ordinary"

"So, what if she's so different?"

"Dustin, she spoke something about Chrissy that I can't understand like the grandfather clock and some kind of a hideous monster putting curses in all of kids in Hawkins"

That's where the boy began to straighten himself up as he looked at Eddie this time who is still perplexed

"And then what else did she say?"

"See, here's the funny thing, I don't believe that much into predictions but she already knew about what happened here"

"Oh?"

"She knew about Erica, she knew that our campaign will be fine"

"Does this girl, have a name?"

"Nah, I didn't get the chance to ask her because it all happened too fast-"

He stops abruptly as he carries his bag as Dustin placed the boxes on the shelf, "One thing that made me feel eerie is that she told me that I only have a few hours left that I was free from the police"

"What?" Dustin looked at him in confusion as he thinks Eddie's words carefully, but why does it feel there's a knowing pounding in his heart that he might know what this is all about

The secret that his metalhead friend that he didn't know about Hawkins

"Yeah, I know, it's weird" Eddie just shrugs

"Maybe, it's all just a coincidence"

"How will it be just a coincidence when she told me everything all at once without her stuttering"

"I think she's just messin' with you" he gets on with his bike as Dustin doesn't like to think too much about the information that his friend just said

"You know what, you're probably right, pal- I'll see ya, tomorrow" He sighs as he gives him a small smile and pats his back as he waved goodbye to Dustin

When he's about to unlock the driver's seat to his van

Fuck, he jumped when he felt a touch from his shoulder and my god- it is Chrissy

He wants to know who are you? Why do you know all of this?

It's so impossible that this is just a coincidence

"That girl is getting all too real for my liking, jesus christ" He muttered the words under his breath as he places his palm over his chest as he calms down first

"Sorry, Eddie- uh- I still need the-" He cuts her off as he motions to the passenger seat

"Yeah, you can hop on" He nods as he jogs over to the other side

"Eddie, do you have it?" Chrissy bops her knees up and down anxiously, she craned her neck to peek at Eddie who is looking through his stuff

"I got it- somewhere-" He stood up as he tries to think where he hid it and turns his back on her and went to his bedroom

When Eddie left her all alone, Chrissy thought she was still in the same world

A cold sweat runs through the side of her face when she realizes it as she furiously panicked as she looked everywhere for Eddie

"It's time for your suffering to end"

"Eddie!" she got goosebumps at the sound of this monstrous voice as she continues to kick and bang every wall to cry out for help

"Found it! peaceful bliss just moments away" his smile fades when he saw Chrissy standing so still and he noticed her eye color changed

It's all white with blue-ish hues on them

He starts calling her name, snaps his fingers, clapping both of his hands, he shakes her by the both of her shoulders and slapping her cheek in the same process

His heart begins to thump into his chest when he noticed all the lights on the room are flickering non-stop

It finally dawned on him that you're right yet again

"What the fu-" he steps back when Chrissy begins to levitate, he didn't even know that his hand is shaking in fear

The front door bangs open as he fells all the way down to floor in shock when he saw you standing on his doorstep

You glare at him and then you saw Chrissy is on a trance, Vecna already has her and you know if you don't move now she will be gone for good

"Chrissy, I'm here, you can escape this"

You shakily put the headset on her and put the tape on your walkman and you press play

"I know he has you, please- listen to my voice, follow my voice, if you can see any portal in there, run for it, I know you can do it"

Eddie slowly gets back up to his feet as he swallows the lump in his throat as he walks closer to the both of you, he sniffles and has clammy hands

Chrissy saw the portal fading in behind Vecna as he holds her still

She quivered from the vines that goes along to her waist as she clocked the hammer beside the small table, she was just about to be covered in vines so she has the time to discreetly get it

By your doing, this caught the attention of Vecna as he turns his head back as he felt someone else doesn't belong in this timeline

She heard your voice as it echoes in again and again in the same area

The moment he looked at her again, Chrissy hit him in the head harshly buying more time to try to make a run for it

Vecna tries to get her but Chrissy swiftly dodges his traps as he grunts in pain

"Eddie" you call his name for assistance

He's in a state of shock as he doesn't know what to do, his ears began to throb as he can't steady the beating of his heart

"Eddie!" You said it out loud this time

"Y-Yeah?" His eyes are misty as he blinks at you

"I know you're scared but I need you to get ready to catch her, she must land between the two of us so she won't get hurt, Okay?" You demonstrate it to him

He gives you a tight nod as he inhales deeply

When Chrissy reaches the portal with you and Eddie being on it, the sight became all pitch black

The moment she woke up realizing she's still floating she dropped into your arms to Eddie's and she's finally brought back into the real world

She gasps in relief and began to wail in your arms and to Eddie's, she's still looking around as if she were being tricked again, you saw the look of almost life-threatening experience on her eyes, your eyes starts to water when she recognizes you and let her embrace you as she begins to weep

You saw Eddie's hands quavering as he looks like he's about to faint from what he just witnessed

Before he hits his head first, you hold his hand tightly making him look in your eyes directly as you use your other hand to held Chrissy as you comfort her

"You're okay, we're safe.....for now"

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

taglist <3 : @paleidiot @marsmallow433 @whothefckissofia @letsfallinlove-blog @silky-luxe @imagine-all-the-imagines @theladyasgard

(Yay, finally, I posted the first chapter of this series and I hope you enjoyed and liked it! Thank you so so so very much of your support! I greatly appreciate it, I did not expected my idea to be recognized and I feel so happy about it! take care always and stay hydrated! I hope y'all stick around for the next part! 🥺🫶🏻✨)

[lovelywritinglady]

Tengen +wives x reader

When the reader comes for a abusive household as a kid and suffers from depression and PTSD and has flashbacks often (like for example if it gets too loud or when she sees any type of violence) she has a breakdown she has a natural tendency to run as far away as possible to find her safe place (her room Tengen gives reader her own bedroom for when this happens) she sometimes forgets that she has a husband and wives she sometimes mistakes them for her parents and thinks they are going to do something to her (what Tengen and his wives are trying to do is to calm her down but nothing is working they give her some space they decide to get her favorite food and just forgets what happens) when they get back to their house reader is no longer in their room but in the backyard and has the most beautiful set up for dinner and wants to apologize for making a scene in public and want to make up because sometimes she feels like a burden because of the problems that she has but reassures reader they she is not a burden in anyway.

You’re Not A Burden

Tengen x wives x fem!reader

Angst, mentions of mental health issues, triggering subjects, fluff, and reassuring themes. Tengen and the wives are the literal best! Rough language and slight physical violence.

Your Pov

The morning was crisp and clear with a slight feel of dew that has kissed the evergreen grass. I normally wake up earlier than the rest of my loves and make their food and start fixing the house from the night before. I do this to feel useful and to help out as much as I can considering the fact that I'm not a shinobi nor am I a demon slayer. Hell, I'm not really sure who I am except the fact that I'm in love with four people that are so strong and skilled. However, most of the time I'm terrified that they will push me away and throw me out. My father and mother did that a few years ago. They claimed that I was nothing a no one would ever want me and that I would die on the streets. I believed them until my husband Tengen came along and took me into his home. I then met his wives and all of us somehow fell in love. I'm forever grateful for their love and care.

Taking a deep brethe of the morning air I smiled with delight before making my way into the house to make breakfast for everyone. As I walked in I was already met with Makio and Suma making a fuss just like they do every morning. As Tengen and Hina were sitting at the table drinking their tea that I had prepared this morning. I smiled at my family starting on breakfast.

"Y/n, good morning my dear!" My sweet husband beamed at me.

"Yes, good morning love." Hina chimed in.

"Good morning everyone, food will be served shortly." I responded with a loving smile.

The other two that paused their bickering, looked at me and immediateky went to my side. "Can we help?" they both said in unison quite loudly which startled me a bit.

"No, its okay, I can manage. But thank you so much!" I beamed at them tying not to seem nervous.

"Are you sure?" Suma asked blinking her eyes adorably.

"Yes, I'm sure." I reassured her and she just smiled and went to the table along with Makio and sat themselves next to Tengen.

After a few short moments breakfast was served and my loves began digging in, but not before blessing the food and giving me thanks. I smiled at their gratitude and began eating my meal with them. And as if on cue, Suma and Makio began bickering which always made me nervous, but at this point I was use to it. That was until all hell broke lose when Suma accidentially moved in the wrong way which caused Maikio to bump into Tengen. He then moved himself out of the way which made him knock his tea on his lap that made him jump up and knock his plate along with the spilled tea cup onto the floor making a very loud crashing sound.

"You idiots, stop messin around. You made me spill the tea and food all over the fucking placsutbbornee. Be more careful!" Tengen roared loudly as he sat back down sighing as he did.

Suma and Makio were frantically apologizing and Tengen was scoulding for their clumisness, Hina was looking at me and asking me things. However, for some reason, I couldn't hear her nor the bickering that was happening at the end of the table. My breathing was heavy and it felt as though my entire being was shrouded in a storm cloud. My eyes felt heavy with tears and I'm sure I was making a face. All of it was too much and I abruptly left the room as my anxieties got too much. I ran as fast as I could to my room, locking the door as I did. I tried slowing my breathing and different methods of calming myself that I have learned over the years. However, none of that was effective as I soon found myself rembering that horrible day. The day that I was so sure would be my last day. The day my father and mother told me that I was nothing and that it would have been better if I was just dead. My mother always went on about how her body was ruined because of me and how I would never amount to anything. All of these words were echoing in my mind now. My body shook and my breathing was worse now. It felt like the air was filled with thick smog. I put my hands over my ears trying to block out the noises.

Suddenly, I felt large hand touch my shoulders and my head shot up and I saw a blurry figure trying to talk to me. I immediately retreated back screaming at the figure. "Go away! Leave me alone!" The figure walked closer and images of my father flashed through my mind and at that moment I concluded that it was him. He found me even after I had run away from him and my mother. 'Oh God was she here?' I though to myslelf. I began frantically searching the room in search of her too. As if on cue, a female figure walked into the room as well. I screamed again thinking that the figure must be her. "PLease I didn't do anything! Mom please I'm sorry don't hate me dad!" I whailed pushing myself against the wall trying to get away from them. It was all too much the fiugres getting closer and their bpoices getting clearer. As soon as I realized that the blurred figures were the loves of my life. I felt relieved as I then passed out from pure exhaustion.

When I woke up I was alone in my room surrounded by darkness. My throat felt dry and I tried calling out at something yet nothing came out. After gathing some of my strength I walked out into the kitchen to find it empty. However, a pitcher with water and a small plate of cookies were placed next to it along with a note. I sat down and poured myself a large glass of water and chugged it. I smiled at the care my loved ones show. I took small bites of the cookies savoring every delicious bite nearly crying at how good they were. I then remembered the note and carefully unfolded it. It read, "Y/n, we love you and were are so sorry that you had a hard day today. You've gotten so much better at managing your tramua and we are so very proud of you. Tomorrow all of us are going to the festival of flowers in the afternoon. You are more than welcome to join us! And please kmow that you do not need to talk about what happened if you don't want to. If you decide you want to, we are all here for you. We love you so much! With love, Tengen, Hina, Makio, and Suma." To say I was balling my eyes out was a complete understatement. I hated when my meltdowns happened but, their love and compassion for me was truly unmatched. Most of the time I question why I deserve them as much as I do. I decided right then and there that a little date outing would be nice and might be just what I need after today. So, I finished my delicious food, cleaned up, and went back to my room for some much needed rest before tomorrow.

The next day, I woke up around the same time I always do to fix my loves their tea and breakfast. However, I was met with the tea already made and all four of my lovers making breakfast. I chuckled at the sight of them attempting to make breakfast. They all turned to me and smiled telling me that brekfast was nearly done and to enjoy the tea that was set out. To my surprise, the tea was delicous and was the perfect mixtiure of sweet and bitter, just the way it should be. I complimented the tea and as soon as I did Tengen boasted that he had made it all by himself and to that I, of course, thanked him graciously. Its not everyday that the sound hashira himself makes people tea. Soon enough the food was ready and again it was good and I wondered to myself I they really needed me to cook for them everyday considering they can make such food by themselves. And as if Makio could read my mind, she suddenly patted my back and spoke.

"You dummy, I know that face and your cooking is the best I've ever had. No one can cook like you can and even if you couldn't cook very well, I know damn well that I'd still eat it because I love you." she reassured as she then kissed my cheek and began munching on her food. The others agreed which caused me to feel my cheeks heat with slight embarsessment.

Soon we finished, got dressed, and made our way to town that was beautifully decorated to match the theme. The streets were packed with people all excited for the festival. As the trees were in full bloom as the petals that were blown off were covering the streets like a beautiful multicolored blanket of snow. It was a breathtaking sight and I looked at Hina who was already looking at me with a sickly sweet smile that it felt as though the view of the blossoms no longer mattered as much as her smile. God I felt so lucky.

"Hey, Hey, Hey! Girls lets go over there!" Suma squeled with pure excitement as she grabbed mine and Makio's arm dragging us to a nearby stand. Her eyes sparkled with excitement at all of the things that were for sale. I was even interested in some of them and so was Hina and Makio. Tegnen saw our excitement as he patted us on the head.

"Pick something out you four and I'll get it for ya!" Tengen said smiling at us.

"Are you sure, Lord Tengen?" I asked my generous husband

"Of course my love." he responded pinching my cheek softly.

The four of us all picked out our items as there were a number of ones to choose from I choose a simple yet beautiful hair pin that I thought would compliment my h/t h/c hair. Hina got a scarf, Makio got a ring, and Suma decided to get a cute plush to add to her ever growing collection. Tengen looked at our items and seemed happy with what we decided to get and promptly paid for them thanking the booth owner as he paid. He then walked to me gently grabbing the hair pin.

"My I put this in your hair, Y/n?" He asked in that to-die-for voice he has that made me melt. I nodded my head already flustered by him as he put it in the side of my head. It sat comfortably and I turned to look in the mirror that was provided my the booth owner admirimg my new accessory. I thanked Tengen for the gift as he went to the other three. He than wrapped Hina's scarf around her, placed Makio's ring on her middle finger, and patted the head of Suma's plush. We all blushed and gawked at our husband as he began walking the streets looking at all there was around to see. We followed him as we too admired the sights around us. I decided to walk slightly ahead of him not realizing that I would venture much farther than anticipated. As I wasn't looking out for my surroundings properly and accidentiely bumped into a rather large man who knocked me down into the streets.

"Hey watch where you're going you clumsy bitch!" The man yelled as the woman he was with began laughing at the state I was in.

"I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to." I pleaded with him as tears fell down my now dirty and slightly scratched up face.

"Aww, look what you did!" He yelled looking down at his feet that were now ever so slightly dusted with dirt. It was so slightly there that I had to nearly squint just to see it. Even still, I felt bad.

"I'm so sorry, here I'll find something to clean it with." I said standing up quickly as to find something to clean his shoe with. That same familiar feeling arouse and everything felt foggy once again. I felt my breathing get harder and the same feeling of tightness in my throat began to appear. I knew in my heart that bumping into someone is not the biggest deal, but the way this man was acting make it seem like I was the most vile creature he has ever laid eyes on. The people surrounding us began to whisper and I swear I heard even more people start to laugh. It became too much and too overwhelming. My cries escalated into full blown panic crying. He smirked at this, and I could tell his man was a vile man, just like my father...

"Hey get the fuck away from my wife!" Yelled my husband as he made his way through the tight crowd of people along with my wives. He had a look on his face that I don't think I've ever seem before. Tengen then walked up to the man grabbed him by his clothes, picked him up, and slammed him down on the dirt. And I could swear that Tengen might have broken something. Despite the shock of what just happened, I was still in tears from being overwhelmed and bullied. Hina, Makio, and Suma tried to calm me down by it was like their words were muffled. I heard a few "It's not your fault," "That man is ugly Y/n, don't listen to ugly people like him," and "You're gonna be okay." All of it fell on deaf ears and I felt like this hell was never going to end. Tengen then joined and instead of talking to me, he picked me up and using his speed, began running with me in his arms. Not even a few minutes later we were at our home. I quickly jumped out of his arms and ran to my safe space: my room.

I made a beeline not even stopping when I heard him calling out my name. I needed to be somewhere familair and I needed to be alone. I took off my shoes and jumped in my bed covering myself with my blanked as I curled into a tight ball. I then covered my ears and cried into my pillow trying to make all the world go away. After a few minutes, I heard the soft knocking on my door and a few voices asking if I was okay. I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything excpet cry and wish that the world would stop for one second just so I could breathe. The voices died down after a few minutes and I assumed that my lovers gave up trying to persuade me to talk to them. I appreciated that and I think they picked up the fact that the only thing I needed now was to just be alone.

A few hours later...

Opening my eyes and opening the covers, I was met with a sun kissed room and a plate of my favorite food and drink next to my bed. God I felt so awful, not just because I felt physically bad, but because it just dawned on me that I caused a pretty big scene in a public place. And that's something that I've never done before. I felt so heavy with guilt that I wanted to cry all over again, but what good would that do? All I feel like I do is cry. Shit, I just realized that I need to start on dinner. Do they hate me now? Are they angry with me? Did I embaress them? I really don't know right now and there was no use in overthinking as my brain simply couldn't handle all of that right now. So, I did the only thing that I felt was right in that moment. I looked at the plate and began eating the food that was placed out for me. I then got up and refreshed myself and decided that it was best that I try to make it up to them. I don't make a really big meal often, but I decided that it was only right considering all they have had to go through these past few days and honestky since they've met me.

I walked into the kitchen fully prepeared to be met with the stares or constant questions of my lovers. However, It was empty and another note was placed stating that they were called for a mini mission and would be back a little past dinner time. Honestly, I was relievd that they weren't here so that I could surprise them all with their favorite foods. I mean it's only fair considering they took the time to prepare mine. So, I grabbed all of the necessary ingrediengts to make each main dish, side dish, and dessert that they each love. Meaning that I was going to make a shit ton of food, but it would be worth it just for them.

Finally, after a few hours of cooking I was finally done with the meal. I was lucky that my loves hadn't come home yet so that I could set the table too. I quickly ran to the storage room grabbing the spare table so that they could eat in the backyard and enjoy the fresh air. Soon enough, the table was set and the food was placed as neatly as possible. I stood back for a moment and admired my work. I then felt arms wrap around my waist. I yelped in surprise, quickly turning around only to be met with the sweet faces of Makio who quickly hugged me more and I returned it without question. Suma, Hina, and Tengen were also there smiling.

"Damn Y/n, you made whole feast!" Tengen spoke walking towords the table.

"Yeah, please all of you feel free to sit down. I made your favorites." You told all of them as the rest made their way to the table.

"Wow, this is amazing Y/n dear! What's the occasion?" Hina asked as she sat in her seat.

"Well, I just wanted to apologize, but i really wanted to do something your you guys too. Honestly, these last few days have been really hard on me and especially you guys." I spoke

"Y/n, we love you and are you for you." Suma proclaimed with slight ears forming in her beutiful eyes.

"I love you guys too. I just really feel like i have been burdening you guys. I mean look what happened today and yesterday as well as throughout our relationship together. I'm still a lot even though I have gotten better over the years. The harsh words of my parents still haunt me and I'm so sorry for that." I spoke as very thick tears streamed down my face and I menatlly cureed myself for crying again. I huggged myself crying harder now and feeling so gilty for the behavoirs that I've shown recently. Strong arms wrapped sorund my body and I knew exactly who was there.

"Oh my dear, y/n you've never been a burden my love." Tengen spoke softly as I wrapped my arms around him tightly sobbing into his chest. "You are so lovely and so sweet. No one as wonderful as you could ever be a burden. Y/n you came from a shit situation and it was you that left that. You're so incredibly strong and flashy at that. I love you, we all do because you're honestly one of the strongest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." Tengen said hugging me tighter. I was still crying, but this time my tears were replaced with happy tears. "Now come on and let's eat." He said in normal tone looking at me with that flashy smile he always has.

"Yeah, lets do that. Only problem is I only made food for you guys, so I'll just sit and drink some tea." I told him a little embressed that I didn't think to make food for myself too. I looked at my wives and they just smiled at me.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to share with me then, love." Tengen suggested as he grabbed my handas we made our way to the table.

"You can have some of mine too!" Suma interjected

"Me too. Y/n there is plenty to share! Thank you for making all of our favorites!" Hina spoke as she began fixing a plate.

"Yeah! I don't mind sharing too!" Makio agreed as she started making a plate too.

"You guys are so sweet!" I exclaimed sitting down in between tengen and Hina. As soon as I sat down she placed a plate of food in front of me and I thanked her for her kindness as she put her hand on my shoulder as I looked up at her.

"Y/n I just wanted to say that Tengen is right, you could never be a burden to us. We all love you and respect you so much. If you ever need any of us, we will be here for you always. I really hope you know that you can rely on us." Hina reassured as she moved he hand to my face stroking my cheek softly before turning away to start making her own plate.

"I agree with Hina Y/n. If you ever need me please don't hesitate to come to me. I'll do my best to be there for you." Makio told me as she too placed food on my plate.

"Yeah, me too Y/n. I love you!" Suma spoke too with a mouth full of food.

"Hey, don't eat yet you dummy." Makio snapped pinching Suma's ear

"Makio, that's mean!" Suma whined softly. I began laughing slightly at their antics. They are so predictable, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Makio be nice, please." Hina asked sweetly

"Fine." Makio cutely pouted

"Alright girls, lets eat before this good food gets cold." Tengen said as we all nodded in agreement.

We all began eating but not before giving thanks. It was a wonderful evening and I felt so lucky that I was blessed enough to be around such good people. They would never hurt me and I knew that part of me will always feel bad for mistaking them for bad people, but another part of knew knew that they would never resent me for that. That thought gave me so much comfort and more than anything I knew that I would be safe as long as I had them by my side.

Thank you so much for reading and thank you to whoever requested this fic! Sorry it took me so long to complete this. 💜

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog.

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters expect y/n and any original characters•

L.W.L

[jedimaesteryoda]

Where I live three schools attempted to pass measures requiring the teachers to notify the parents if their kids are trans, or basically forcibly outing transgender kids to their parents. Thankfully, there are a large number of people coming out opposing this measure, but unfortunately, the "parents rights" crowd is also coming out in support.

I've argued with people on social media supporting the policy saying the parents should be obligated to be notified if their kids are trans, it is their right. The subject of "parent rights" is actually historically familiar.

Hegel, himself a school principal, was a proponent of universal public education, explicitly saying "The State has the absolute duty to make sure that children receive an education." He noted its value towards society allowing poor families to "rise above their condition" and have the children "develop talents" that would otherwise be stifled by poverty. While his position is pretty much modern, he had his opponents who stated it violated "rights of individuals" specifically "those of fathers over their children."

Hegel criticized such arguments, saying it took from the ancient tradition of Rome that reduced children to "things" and saw the child as the property of their parents when "he must be a member of civil society, has rights and claims within it, just like those he had within the family" and "children have the rights to be educated to live in civil society, and if parents neglect this right, civil society must intervene." In other words, he saw "parents' rights" as reducing children to property with no rights rather than people deserving of their own rights, especially the right to an education.

Let's say CPS comes over and takes kids from a horribly abusive household, would that action be considered bad for violating the rights of the parents to their kids? No, because to do so would come at the cost of the kids' rights to a safe and healthy environment.

Which brings us to the present topic of outing trans kids. The proponents are saying it is the "right" of the parents to be told if their kids are trans regardless of their child's consent. They don't mention the child's right to consent, nor do they care, since it is not about the best interests of the child but the parents' control over their children. If a child has not disclosed their identity to their parents, then it is not unlikely that there is a good reason for it. Their parents may be transphobes, and such parents may respond to the knowledge of their child being trans with abuse, by trying to "fix" them, force them to be cis, up to and including conversion therapy, and in a number of cases kick them out, or the teen runs away with LGBT teens making up around 40% of homeless youth. Both actions can increase the child's chances of suicide with ~30% of trans teen girls admitting to having attempted suicide. In the worst cases, there are parents who kill their trans kids.

A parent is supposed to provide for their child in material terms with food, clothes and housing as well as emotional support, but a parent should not say "I feed and house them, so I have a right to . . ." as parenting is not a contract given kids did not choose to be born. "Parents rights" is BS as parenting is not a right but a privilege. The child is the one with a right to a safe, comfortable environment, and so long as the parent provides them that, their privilege of being a parent is respected.

Children are people. Trans people are people. They are members of civil society, and have a right to consent and safety. Don't support outing trans kids to their parents. Period.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The C person is not even worth the trouble for him

Unlike Syd

So are we now finally ready to address the fact that when Carmen Berzatto REALLY LOVES SOMEONE and that person hurts him or disappoints him, he either lashes out walk-in style

OR cuts them off, puts distance between them, he doesn’t really fight back.

(Michael-Donna-his father whom he never tried to find or reconnect with, I’m sure there are more ppl we don’t even know about).

BUT

when he really loves someone and HE is the one who disappoints or hurts the other person or fucks up bad, he tries to make it up in the best way HE CONSIDERS fair (Syd, Sugar, Pete, Richie)

The good news is:

The C person doesn’t fall in either category because HE fucked up and HE didn’t try to make it up to her in any way, shape, or form, he cut her off.

SO

That can only mean 3 things coming from him:

1- He doesn’t love her therefore he doesn’t feel is necessary to make it up to her, even though he feels guilty about the whole thing, she’s not enough of a priority for him, hence: he doesn’t even bother in repairing that relationship, even though he’s fully aware HE fucked up.

OR

2- He doesn’t even feel he fucked up at all, he actually deep down thinks he did the right thing, he’s only PARTIALLY sorry about the whole thing, he’s absolutely NOT sorry about what he did, said, chose, etc. He’s ONLY sorry about C getting hurt as a result, but then again, since she’s NOT that much of a priority to him and he does have more important things to do like getting a star for Syd to make it up to her for having failed her repeatedly and having left her alone, etc, which ARE indeed his priorities, then he just keeps putting the whole apology to C in the back burner and kinda hopes it eventually dilutes in time… like a “I’ll deny it till it goes away bc she moved on and what’s the point of apologizing now anyway…” kinda thing.

OR

3- A combination of both <— my pick.

He will have to grow at some point and understand it just doesn’t work like this. That he can’t keep on cutting people out of his life because he’ll wind up alone. That he can’t be his own judge and choose his own sentence when he commits a crime and that nothing he just buries deep down inside, actually goes away just because he chooses not to address it.

And I think that the lesson this fucker taught him:

by breaking him and making him realize that he’s actually better than his abuser. (Carmy is a better person than that asshole even as fucked as he is) Is actually one of the tools he needed to turn this whole thing around and reach that level of maturity he’s lacking and therefore make a real change after he overcomes this crisis he’s going through.

I already addressed his immaturity here:

The other tool is that Sydney keeps believing in him. He cannot lose that, not totally, he has to continue counting on her for motivation, she’s the heart of his whole support system.

And Syd needs her own support system too, which in her case is now expanding. It’s no longer just her father. Everything she can't let go of is now her support system, her found family. They are bound already, whether she likes it or not.

So I’m sure they will be OK. I’m just sorry that trauma is the way Storer chose to go about it. There were easier ways.

But since the whole plot is based on their real lives, as I mentioned here, trauma it is.

S4 is gonna be glorious!

Carmy has already reached the breaking point this season:

but S4 is gonna be THE TURNING POINT.

[lyle-and-erik-menendez]

Notes from Interview with Dr. Ann Burgess | Revisiting Menendez

Ann spoke with Erik on numerous occasions in preparation of the trial, interviews, therapy and attempts to get him to draw his story were completed. Ann also reached out to Lyle who refused and continued to work with John Conte, Lyle in the past and up to this day appears to be much more discriminating on who he interacts with then Erik. As a result much of her conclusions come directly from Erik, though she did interview the brothers together and spoke to Lyle at court multiple times, Erik was her patient. 

She makes a comment that Lyle made Erik go in first, Ann says the reason was “Maybe because he thought he wouldn't if he didn't”

I don’t understand what she means by this. Does she mean Erik wouldn't follow? Or that Lyle couldn't go through with the murders? 

Lack of Planning into crime: anger and fear based, out of the blue, unconcerned with where parents were, people hear the shooting and did not shut any doors, no silences on guns, had never shut a gun before, randomness of shooting was driven by fear, Jose 6 Kitty 10 - overkill, Ann mentions another similar case at the same time where an incest survivor killed her father, went into treatment not prison when the evidence was belatedly brought up.

Jose and Kitty: No one cared about the gunshots, no one tried to assist despite hearing. Is this due to how disliked they were in the neighborhood or more about Jose’s shady business deals being an open secret? Police also did not do much in terms of crime scene investigations, letting the brothers go

 Ann discusses Erik and PTSD, she claims at the time of the trial she did not consider Erik to have PTSD and makes no more comments about this aside from discussing the change between generalized anxiety and PTSD

Lyle struggled with relationships and schools, both boys acted out in unnecessary ways like theft ( they had money ) this is considered a red flag now in reference to abusive households or other concerns with young people who rebel against their homes and societal expectations. The boys bought Rolex watches and gave them away to friends and family. Ann also mentioned how tennis was helpful for Erik’s mental health, ‘dissociation’ ‘mental health’ in the way that he could focus on that and nothing else for hours at a time as the tennis was rigorous. 

Ann claimed that Erik saw he and his brother as “Conjoined twins” as well as his main form of support whereas Lyle saw them as ‘little brother - big brother’, she said it could be hard to get Erik off the subject of Lyle, which she did not find unusual as they did everything together, including the crime that they were discussing. Lyle would get angry at Erik but Erik would never get angry at Lyle and mentioned that Erik would “wouldn't dare as he was his main support, when the mother made her feelings clear”. 

Ann also spoke to Kitty Menenedez’s therapist and found out these details. That Jose had multiple affairs with women over the years. Kitty was 'obsessed’ with Jose. Kitty went to all the tennis tournaments of the boys and never missed them, and Jose and Kitty both would aggressively intimidate teachers to change grades.

Something I find odd as well is that for a family of that stature hosting parties and entertaining is a huge way to both continue business, socialise and throw around wealth, for them to do so is out of character as well as out of the social circles they were running around. This to me would imply that the family would separate themselves from mainstream society as much as possible to continue with fantasy images and not risk exposure.

Ann goes on to mention from Kitty's therapist that Kitty ‘viewed sons as trophies’. Considers Kitty to be a narcissist but Jose not sociopath, psychopath or antisocial, Pathological in regards to sons however he expressed what she called ‘muted sadism’ instead of overt sadism with his sexual abuse. 

Ann considered Jose to have said things to Lyle that Jose would never have said to Erik Erik easily brainwashed “that was his nature”. From discussion with Lyle’s therapist she noted that Lyle kept using ‘mother’ as a metaphor for ‘brother’ in discussing the abuse and reason for the crime. Saying things like “I had to save my mother” when he meant and would later admit to it being Erik that he was always referring to

I think this implies that both brothers had/have a history  with struggling to see Kitty as a perpetrator 

Anne ends the interview with discussion of Jose’s excuse of ‘male bonding’ to normalize and change the narrative of the sexual abuse with his sons. She mentioned that this is typical in incest cases of excuses for why its okay. She mentions that Father-son abuse and the  patriarchal nature of society, which is part of why it's both so prevalent as well as not discussed at the same time.  This is exemplified by the difference between male and female juries and the ‘trying to understand another’s perception’ If someone can’t identify with it, it didn't happen. Her phrasing of the men on the jury and their inability to identify with male victims of sexual violence by anyone ‘ I would never do that this could never happen’ compared to the women ‘ I could see this happening’ in terms of male on male rape and female perpetrators as foreign ideas.

One final note from Ann was that she found it interesting that the focus on the ‘gay’ brother was only on Erik and never on Lyle. She viewed one brother as more ‘picked on' over the other by the prosecution and the public.

[thealtoduck]

Being the Riddler’s criminal sidekick…

Tim Drake x Male Reader

Warnings: superhero violence, implied child abuse, horrible parents, mentions of sex…

Summary: Tim meets the Riddler’s sidekick for the first time and finds himself quite charmed by him…

——

How did you end up as the Riddler’s right hand man?

Well, the answer was simple: ”Why not?”

You grew up in a rough household, your father was an deadbeat alchoholic and your mother had left him for the divorce lawyer and his house in the suburbs.

She left you, she left you alone with the man that she was escaping from, imagine the impact that has on a childs psyche.

So from then on you followed one rule: Trust no one.

When you entered your teenage years you escaped from your father as soon as possible on to the streets of Gotham. Which is no place for a child.

Soon you found your way into crime which also led you to the Riddler.

You were at a bar looking for a new job when you saw the Riddler trying to convince a couple of men to join him as his henchmen. They however were not convinced to join him though as they didn’t like the idea that he quite literally gives clues for the cops and Batman to find him.

You however saw it as an oppurtunity, Riddler was already infamous and if he was this desperate for help it might lead to you getting a bigger cut of whatever scheme he had come up with.

So when the other men left you walked over to the Riddler and sat down across from him. ”Looks like your having some trouble, what if i could be of some assistance” you said. ”Yeah, because a teenager is exactly the muscle my operation needs” he said sarcastically.

”Oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t see the line of people wating to work for you” you said sarcastically.

The Riddler then smirked and said ”You’re in”.

He took you to his lair and introduced to his henchwomen ”Query and Echo” who were dressed as what could only be described as S&M biker chicks.

You went on to become the Riddler’s own sidekick, he gave you the nickname ”Clue”. You had become his close follower as well as one of the only three people who could sass the Riddler without getting shot.

He even let you nickname him ”Eddie”

Though getting this job wasn’t only sunshine and rainbows, it put a bigger target on your back by the authorities. After a botched mission you were arrested and became the youngest person ever sent to Arkham Asylum.

Not that you really deserved to be there you weren’t a mass murdering maniac but your close association to the Riddler probably made people assume you were… that or the judge was feeling extra pissy that day in court.

While in Arkham you met both Penguin and Two Face who offred you a job but you decided to stick by Riddler.

And you were right to do so as he soon broke you out of Arkham.

Then it was back to work…

Two years later…

You, Riddler, Query and Echo had stolen valuables from a museum, that you, Query and Echo were now trying to calculate how much you could sell it for. Meanwhile Riddler was gloating about his genius riddles and traps he had left behind for the dynamic duo to find.

As if on cue Batman and Robin smashed right through the window landing in front of you, Query and Echo. ”Oh, Batsy and Sparrow, what a surprise!” you said sarcastically standing up.

”But an unwelcomed one at that, get him girls” you told the two henchwoman who swiftly attacked the Batman.

”Robin, go get Clue, i’ll take care of these two and find Riddler” Batman commanded his sidekick. The black-haired superhero ran towards you. You grabbed a baseball bat and pointed the end towards Robin. ”Been a while Dove, i’ve missed you”.

”Do you have a list of birds just to avoid saying my name?” Robin asked annoyed. ”You tell me Peacock” you taunted. Robin brought out his staff and you started exchanging blows.

He managed to disarm you from the bat with his staff. So you ran up to him and grabbed his staff and ripped it out of his hand and threw it aside and you continued your fight.

Your fight had brought you to a staircase and you playing dirty as usual pushed him down it. Though unfortunately enough for you he grabbed your jacket and pulled you down with him. When both of you landed at the bottom of the stairs, both of you were now twisting in pain.

”Not my best idea” you said to yourself you said rubbing your forehead in pain. ”You’ve ever had one?” Robin asked equally in pain making you glare at him. ”Can we take like a 3 minute break?” you asked sitting up leaning against a wall. ”Can’t believe i’m agreeing to this but sure” Robin said as he did the same.

Both of you were sweaty and breathing heavily from your fight. ”So… how’s your day been” you asked casually slipping a cigarette in to your mouth and lighting it. ”Your really asking me that?” he asked semi-annoyed and very confused. ”Yeah, why not?, want one?” You asked, offering him a cigarette. He shook his head still very confused how casual you were treating this.

Robin then looked around and stated ”Gotta admit for a secret villain lair this place is quite cozy”. ”Right, Query and Echo decorated it, my room is right down the hallway to the right, they helped me put together an Ikea bed”.

”So i’ll ask again, how was your day?” you asked casually taking another puff of the cigarette. Tim was confused by the casual conversation the two of you were having but maybe this would be a good distraction.

”It was decent, got a coffee, finished some work and you know now i’m here” Tim answered. ”Cool cool” you said blowing some smoke. ”How was your’s?” Robin asked.

”Good, i stole some stuff, it was fun” you said cheerfully and Robin gave what almost sounded like a small chuckle.

You then stared at him and asked with a cigarette between your lips ”Wanna fuck?”.

”What?!” Robin questioned loudly starting to cough from breathing in the smoke. ”Sorry, i just heard Batman gets it on with Catwoman so i assumed you know…” you said putting out the cigarette.

”I mean it’s not like that, you’re attractive and stuff, it’s just you know bad guy and all that stuff…” Robin said making you laugh. ”Yeah, it’s fine Parrot, i get it” you said while laughing. You then stood up ”Well, i gotta get going, bye bye birdy” and you started sprinting through the hallway.

Tim stood up to run after you but you pressed a button on a remote making a bunch turrets appear from the walls targeting him. Tim ran up the stairs the two of you had fallen down as they started shooting. He ran back to the main room where Batman was cuffing Riddler to a chair.

”Did you get Clue?” Batman asked. ”No, he got away” Tim answered disappointed. ”Echo and Query got away too, they’re probably regrouping” Batman explained.

They left as GCPD arrived to take Riddler away and Tim thought back on what Clue had said to him more specifically the ”Wanna fuck?” part, he found himself thinking ”What if i said ”Yes””.