ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ

Son of JT & Maureen Ashby. Born in the Belfast rain, raised by SAMBEL. Came to Charming looking for the brother I never knew. Blood doesn't lie.

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

𝙏𝙬𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙏𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧. 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙡𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣.

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗟 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀, 𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗖𝗥𝗢. 𝗘𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗲.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

[‍ ‍* 𝚂𝙶𝚃. ᵃᵗ 𝙰𝚁𝙼𝚂 @HAPPYT0KILL]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ﹒⌗﹒ 𝐻𝙰𝙿𝙿𝚈 𝐿𝙾𝚆𝙼𝙰𝙽 ⸝⸝ ☺︎
⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

"Six o'clock on the dot, Deputy. I'll find your sanctuary," he promised. "Keep the Jameson close and those blueprints handy. Let’s see if that strategic mind of yours can actually keep a wildcard like me in check, or if you’re just inviting trouble past your gate."

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

The sudden, swift snap of the folder ripping from his fingers left his palm empty. Killian didn't chase after it. Instead, he just froze, his hand hanging motionless in the night air as a slow, thoroughly unhinged grin carved through his thick blonde beard. (...)

[𝒬uinn @OfIronAnarchy]

"I'm on the clock, and the law doesn't play nice on an empty road. Back up. If you're as good with a wreck as you claim, you'll find my private garage after my shift ends at six. Don't make me pull you over twice."

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

the law. He swung his long leg back over the saddle of his bike, the leather creaking beneath his weight as his boots found the footpegs. He gripped the handlebars, his posture relaxing into a lazy, confident slouch that completely contradicted her warning about SAMCRO. (...)

[𝒬uinn @OfIronAnarchy]

⌖ Deputy Quinn Mercer, San Joaquin Sheriff's Dept
⌖ Hobbyist vintage bike restorer

By day, I wear the badge & monitor the highway. By night, I'm in my garage with grease on my hands & a glass of Jameson. If you cross into my world, keep your tailpipes quiet & your nose clean.

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

five years stamped directly by The Council. I’ll secure Jax's throne," he rasped, his predatory smirk making a slow return beneath his thick beard. "But when it lands... you make sure I get my seat at the table. Deal, stepmother?"

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

A faint, dark humor flickered in Killian's piercing eyes, though his face remained a mask of absolute, dangerous relax. He absorbed the full weight of the matriarch’s warning without stepping back, letting the silence settle over the TM lot like thick Belfast fog.
(...)

[𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀. @ReaperxQueen]

one.
She leaned in just a fraction closer, her dark eyes narrowing into a dangerous, calculating stare. "Jax is the only king ruling this garage, Kill. If you’re really here to protect his pipeline and not bleed us dry, you better prove it before I dig that hole anyway."

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

Belfast token before he pulled his hand out empty. He offered her a small, sharp nod, the kind of nod of a businessman sealing a truce. "You want your proof? Watch the next crate of iron that rolls into this valley. It’ll be the heaviest shipment this charter has seen in (...)

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

@OfIronAnarchy Got them. A barn... Now you’re speaking my language, love. Don't worry about my tires—I've ridden through worse than a little dirt road. I'll be there at six on the dot. Just make sure you're ready for what happens when a Belfast ghost steps into your territory.

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

"A bastard has to learn to read the blueprints early if he wants to survive the wreck, love," he whispered, his gritty brogue sharp and quiet. "I can play nice with the law, Deputy. Let’s get out of your headlights. Show me how deep this leak really goes."

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

Kill stood bravely as she stepped off the car. He absorbed the sharp impact of the file folder tapping hard against his chest, his knuckles trapping the tarnished silver coin flat against his palm as his icy blue eyes flared with an intense, sudden heat. (...)

[𝒬uinn @OfIronAnarchy]

"Your club is a sinking ship, Killian. If you want to stop the leak without your brother Jax catching a bullet, show some respect for the woman holding the blueprints. Now step back from my headlights before the dash-cam catches your good side."

[ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ @BelfastKill]

Slowly, he reached up, his calloused fingers casually gripping the top edge of the police folder. He didn't pull it from her grasp. Instead, he leaned forward, bringing his blonde beard close enough to mirror her fluid, coiled posture. (...)