#I love how swiftly he falls to the ground in the original clip it's just such a smooth motion
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you-get-the-gist ¡ 8 months ago
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I am up to ZERO good :)
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benedictscanvas ¡ 5 years ago
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found - aaron hotchner
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Word Count: 4.6k (i got a little carried away with this one!)
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, torture, serial killers, reader’s father was killed in a car crash, reader is the victim of emotional and (a small bit of) physical abuse from her mother, nice and fluffy ending
Request: i ADORE your writing. could you do a hotch x female reader where the reader works at the bau but comes from a really rich business family and a case comes in where her brother's gone missing because they want money from the family. they save him but the reader's mother belittles and slaps her, and the team stand up for her in front of her family and then later she goes to hotch's office and just some cute fluff because they've been in love with each other for years? ik it's weirdly specific lol
A/N: First of all, thank you! Also, never apologise for specific requests, it only means that I don’t have to think up an idea myself, haha, always a good thing! This one got away from me a little, but I just really loved how protective the team were of the reader here (especially my man Aaron). Love to you all, I hope none of you ever have to go through a situation like the one below <3
---
The weight in your stomach was beginning to ache now. Your mind was playing the events of the past few days over and over but you couldn’t work it out. You’d found him, you should be fine, and yet there was something still bothering you.
There was no way the BAU ever would have taken this case were it not for the connection you had to it, there was no point kidding yourself about that. It was on Tuesday morning that you had practically run through the bullpen towards Hotch’s office, ignoring the concerned voices of the members of your team and not bothering to knock as you burst in on him.
“It’s my brother,” you said, out of breath, clutching the door with a painfully tight grip as your chest heaved and Hotch stood from his desk. His face would have seemed as stoic as usual to most people, but you could see the worried lines around his eyes better than most people, “Someone’s taken him, I don’t know who, but they want money quickly and my mother won’t give them the money and-”
“Y/N,” he quieted you with his soft utterance of your name, and you gasped in for breath that you didn’t have. There were tears in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall, “We’ll get everyone in the conference room, okay? Tell us all at once.”
You nodded, pressing your lips together and wiping a shaky hand down your face. He didn’t question you. Didn’t question taking the case. You had hardly told him anything and he was dropping whatever the hell he had been doing, and even in your haze of fear you couldn’t appreciate him more.
“Thanks, Hotch,” you said quietly, and he simply nodded at you, resting a warm hand on your shoulder briefly as he passed you to gather the team together. Not five minutes later were you telling the team everything, from the rich parents you’d never previously mentioned to your brother’s disappearance, showing them a picture of the ransom note that had showed up on your mother’s doorstep that morning. Not thirty minutes later were you on a plane to your hometown, sat next to Hotch on the seat of four and listening to him and the team bouncing theories around.
It had taken three days to find him.
Three days of you being worried to the point of sickness. You’d thrown up multiple times. JJ had been there the first time, swiftly following you into the bathroom after the toe showed up in the mail. She held your hair back as you emptied your lunch into the toilet, your tears simultaneously streaming into the bowl. But the second time was after your mother refused for the fourth time to pay the ransom to save your brother. You only made it to a bin in an empty room in the police precinct, but Hotch was right behind you, rubbing your back with a firm hand.
You only found him in the end due to a connection Spencer made between the original ransom note and the note that came with the toe, an inconsistency that led Garcia to a name and you to an address. It all fell into place quickly, like it often did, and soon the two culprits were in cuffs, your brother was sent off in an ambulance and the case was closed with no lives lost. It should have been a good day.
But still, now, as you sat in the front seat as Hotch drove you to the hospital your brother had been taken to, your stomach was swirling with doubt and anxiety and you knew exactly why.
“You don’t look too happy,” he commented in a low voice, even though there was no one else in the SUV except for the two of you. As soon as your brother was taken away in the ambulance, your mother jumped in beside him and you were left on the pavement, before Hotch placed a hand on your back and jingled the keys beside you, spurring you into action, “Your brother will be fine, Y/N, they’re only taking him as a precaution.”
“Oh no, I know,” you said flippantly, turning to Hotch even though he kept his eyes on the road, “He’s a strong guy, he’ll take this in stride. There’s just something...else.”
You wondered whether you should tell him. It was a thought you dismissed as soon as it came. You and Hotch were close, closer than anyone else really realised, and if you told him there was no telling what he might want to do about it. There was nothing to be done, though, and so there was nothing to be said either.
“What is it?”
“I just-” you figured out your lie, needing it to be half-true so he wouldn’t see through it, “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet that he’s safe.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. It was a sign that he knew you were lying, that he was waiting for you to crack and tell him the truth. A trick he’d learned from you, actually. Sometimes, you stayed late with him to help him out with paperwork, try to get him home a little sooner and you talked. You talked a lot. And whenever you’d ask him how he was, or whether something was bothering him and he would lie you would nod and go silent, waiting for him to speak again and inevitably reveal the truth.
It wouldn’t work on you this time. Instead, the rest of the drive passed in a slightly uncomfortable silence and when you got out of the car, the two of you headed into the hospital without words. Guilt poked at your heart but you pushed it away as you were given directions to your brother’s room and took purposeful steps in that direction.
Just as you reached the door, you pushed open the door to join him, your mother and the nurse that was checking him over.
��Hey little-”
“Y/N!” your mother cried, rushing over to hurry you out of the room again and you caught a glimpse of your brother’s apologetic glance before she was shutting the door in your face, “Can we have a word?”
The weight in your stomach was getting heavier by the second.
“I’d really like to see my brother and check he’s okay,” you said, tone clipped and formal. You felt Hotch’s presence a little way behind you, watched your mother’s eyes flick between you and him with disdain.
“And I would really like a word with you,” she said, her voice different to how it had been. She had an audience now, you thought silently, and fought the urge to roll your eyes, “If you wouldn’t mind talking to your mother.”
She was trying to make you look bad and you knew it. You tried not to, but you could feel your embarrassment rising despite yourself. There was nothing to be embarrassed about and you knew it, but having Hotch there watching your mother talk to you like this, no doubt profiling you both made heat creep up the back of your neck.
“Then let’s find somewhere private-” you attempted but she cut you off.
“No, we talk here.”
It had been her favourite method of doing things when you were younger too. As soon as your dad died, she began subtly belittling you in the house. Blaming you for his death was the only way she seemed to move forward, even though you quickly accepted that just because you had been in the car when he died didn’t make you at all responsible.
But it was when you went out with her that she truly came into her own, having the free reign to humiliate you as publicly as possible, making sure that other people heard it. You hadn’t seen her in a few years. You’d forgotten how difficult it was, even now, to avoid reverting back into that childlike state when she looked at you like that.
“Mother-”
“Again. Again, someone has hurt our family and again, you are the one responsible. Do you enjoying seeing me suffer? Is that was this is, Y/N?”
You stared at your feet and set your jaw. It was difficult to know whether to shout at her, laugh in her face, or start sobbing on the ground. You’d tried all three before. Nothing worked. And now - oh god - and now the whole team had rushed into the hospital to check on you and your brother and you turned your head a little to see Hotch hold up a hand to stop them from saying anything behind him. You bit your lip. The taste of copper filled your mouth with a welcome, distracting bitterness.
“How could this possibly be my fault?” you asked incredulously, looking up and meeting her gaze with all the anger you held towards her for so much of your life, all the resentment. You hoped none of the fear shone through alongside it. Apparently, your rage meant nothing, as she simply laughed, the hollow sound a haunting nostalgic tune.
“You’re meant to be a fucking FBI agent, and yet your brother has come home without two of his toes and one of his fingers,” she said, still laughing, shaking her head in disbelief at you, “You couldn’t find him in time.”
You were seething.
“If we hadn’t found him in time, he’d be dead. Things don’t always end this well, mother. He’s lucky,” you ground out and she reared back, stung.
“Lucky? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Mrs Y/L/N-” Hotch began, and you heard him take a small step forward behind you. You winced. You knew what was coming.
“Oh, Agent Hotchner,” she said, her tone sweet again and you felt your stomach churn. You were beginning to feel lightheaded. Your serial killer catching team were right there and you were being scolded by your mother. Don’t cry, you pleaded with yourself, “You must be so tired of dealing with my daughter and her lack of empathy. Thinking that her own brother is lucky when he’s been severely deformed, I mean, the lack of-”
“Severely deformed?” you said, chest heaving as you stared her down, “Sam is fine. He will be fine. He is not deformed. All thanks to me and my team. My amazing team, who do not want to see any of this so can we please-”
Part of you was hoping that maybe some of them would take your hint and leave, just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of your colleagues anymore, just so you wouldn’t have to handle them losing all their respect for you. But there were no footsteps.
“We’re not going anywhere. You’re not seeing your brother. I won’t let you hurt him more than you already have-”
“I have never hurt Sam in my life-”
“You know you’ve hurt him more than anyon-”
“For fuck’s sake, mother, I didn’t kill dad!”
She slapped you. Actually slapped you right across the face and your head whipped to the side. She’d never done that before. Perhaps she’d never had the heart when you were younger, or maybe you’d never actually said the words before, you didn’t know. You clutched your cheek as you kept your eyes downward and felt the tears staining your cheeks. Fuck.
You were already planning your resignation from the BAU in the stunned silence of the corridor.
JJ was first to run forward, putting an arm around you.
“Are you okay?” she murmured in your ear and you simply nodded, shrugging her away from you a little in your embarrassment.
“Don’t you ever mention your father to me,” she said, her voice dangerous, but you still hadn’t looked up, couldn’t fathom giving her the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You wanted to scream at her, slap her right back, maybe slam her against the wall but you knew none of it would help. You hardly had any dignity left as it was.
“You know what, Mrs Y/L/N,” Dave spoke up into the silence and you closed your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t say anything too bad, “I was wondering why you wouldn’t pay the ransom. I thought maybe it was the principle, or perhaps you were worried they’d just ask for more. But, I get it now.”
“Yeah, me too, Rossi,” Derek chimed in, “Now it’s easy to understand. Your kids simply aren’t worth anything to you.”
“Excuse me?” your mother’s voice was higher in pitch and part of you was worried she might slap them, but you knew she didn’t have it in her. JJ was still hovering behind you.
“You have two wonderful children, Mrs Y/L/N,” Emily continued, “Sam’s a doctor, the perfect child and yet the only value he has to you is in the bragging rights he provides.”
“And Y/N? She’s one of the best agents in the bureau. She cares about people-” Spencer’s voice cracked and you blinked out a fresh wave of tears, “-she cares so much. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. If you can’t see that, then it’s your loss.”
You finally stood up straight and looked to your team with eyes full of shame. Your cheek was no doubt a different colour to the rest of your face, tear stains galore, eyes puffy. No moment was worse, than seeing them all staring at you with pity in their eyes, and yet the warmth you felt radiating from them was stronger than any feeling you’d ever had from your family. This was your family, after all. Your real family.
“Y/N’s one of the best people I’ve ever met too.”
“Same here.”
“Me too.”
Came the replies from your team. You let out a shaky exhale as you stared at them. Thanking them and apologising to them all at once with just the look in your eyes. Your mother was still silent, clearly shocked that anyone could possibly care about you like this, let alone a whole group of people.
“She’s the best person I’ve ever met,” Hotch spoke up and when your eyes snapped to his, you didn’t see pity. You saw that fiery anger that he usually reserved for the lowest of the low. And yet now, he was staring at your mother with that stare that made killers recoil in their seats. She looked horrified, “And she’s going in that room to see her brother. You will go outside and wait until we’ve left. Then, and only then, can you come back inside this building.”
“But-”
“That’s an order from a federal agent, Mrs Y/L/N,” his voice was hard and unfaltering and you saw his hands clenched at his sides, longed to prise them open and slip your fingers in between his, “Rest assured that if I ever hear you speak to Y/N like that again, I will make your life a living hell. You’re a lawyer, right? I pull some strings, and you’ll be out of a job before you can blink.”
“She’s my daughter and I will-”
“Go outside.”
You surprised yourself when you spoke up. But the anger that boiled inside you had bubbled to the surface and now, there was no stopping you. Your team were behind you, literally, figuratively, in every way possible. It was enough. You weren’t a child anymore.
“Y/N-”
“I said, go outside. I don’t want to see you again, are we clear? We’re done,” when she just stood there dumbfounded, you pointed towards the exit and took a step towards her, your heart leaping when she took a step backwards, “Leave.”
And just like that, she left. She had to walk past every member of your team on her way and they refused to move out of her way, so she had to squeeze past each and every one, mumbling to herself the entire time.
She was gone and silence enveloped the little corridor to the private room yet again.
“And don’t come back,” Dave muttered, causing you to finally crack a smile in his direction, which in turn made him smile, and the rest of the team, even though they were hesitant. You wanted to say thank you, but you weren’t sure you had the words. You were so damn tired.
“Hey,” JJ spoke up beside you, a hand on your shoulder, “Go see your brother. You want to stay for a while? We can hold the jet.”
You shook your head.
“I’ll see him quickly,” you said, “I just want to go home.”
Everyone smiled again, more sympathetically and Hotch spoke up, his voice back to his normal voice around you. It was your favourite version of him. Soft.
“We’ll be right here when you’re ready.”
You nodded gratefully, turning and heading into the room without another word, because you didn’t have anymore. You just said a quick hello to your brother, gave him a tight hug. You’d never been close, the torment you’d been put through by your mother he had been immune from and it had put a rift between you. You’d never understand each other. But he was your brother, and you loved him all the same, so you wished him well and told him to call more often. When you left the room, true to their word, the team were still there and led you out of the hospital to the SUVs, shielding you with their bodies from your mother outside. You didn’t even see her.
There was no talking in the SUV. Hotch drove, Derek in the front beside him and you sat in the back with JJ. She insisted. Halfway to the jet, she reached over and grabbed your hand, not even looking over at you and you squeezed it gently. You were grateful for the grounding touch.
It was only back on the jet that someone spoke up. Hotch was busy in the kitchen. But everyone else was sat around. You were sat beside Spencer at the table, with JJ and Rossi opposite. Derek was sat on the couch nearby and Emily perched on an arm rest just so she wasn’t sat too far from you.
“When did it start, Y/N?” Derek asked once the plane had been in the air for a while, earning some sharp looks from JJ and Emily but you waved them away.
“It’s okay, guys, it’s not like I can hide it now,” you said, having calmed down significantly on the drive to the jet, JJ’s touch and the hum of the engine comfort enough to decrease your heart rate, bring you back to earth. Your shame was still there, but you had tucked it away for later. Right now, you wanted to salvage as much of yourself as you could, “As you guys know, my dad was killed in a crash when I was 12. But what you don’t know, is that I was in the car and that my mother blamed me for it. She made everyday after a living hell. I moved out as soon as I could and never looked back. I’ve not seen her much since, just family events and such, but she’s always the same.”
They all had varying looks of anger and sadness. Spencer asked the question on everyone’s minds.
“Has she ever…?”
You didn’t make him finish, because you knew the words would be difficult for him.
“Hurt me before? No, she hasn’t. I don’t know what was different this time,” you shrugged, subconsciously reaching up to gently touch your cheek, “I don’t think I’ve ever said outright that I didn’t kill him before.”
“But you know you didn’t, right?” Emily asked without thinking and you smiled at her.
“I’ve always known that,” you said honestly, “It would have been so much worse if I’d believed her, but I always knew she was wrong.”
Hotch emerged from the kitchen with an ice pack and you smiled at him a little, relaxing when he offered a small smile in return. You expected him to hand it to you, but to your surprise he sat on your armrest right next to you, your arm pressed against his side. He brushed your hair away from your face with gentle fingers and placed the icepack on your cheek, apologising under his breath when you winced from the cold sting.
“That’s what you were worried about in the car then,” he mused aloud, gaining the attention of everyone on the plane, “You knew what was coming.”
“Somehow, I did,” you grimaced, looking up at him, “And I’m sorry you had to see it,” you looked around at everyone, “I’m sorry you all had to see it. It’s so embarrassing and degrading and...well I understand that your perception of me must have changed but I assure you-”
“Woah, woah,” Derek interrupted, “The only way my perception of you has changed, honey, is that you’re stronger than any of us knew.”
When you looked at everyone else around the plane, they were in agreement with Derek, it was clear. You felt yourself welling up again, and cursed your weakness.
“I can’t thank you guys enough for what you said about me,” you began, voice shaky, “It just...it means a lot. I’ve never had a real family before.”
“Well, now you do,” Dave said simply, watching you with those kind eyes of his. You nodded with a smile before Spencer produced a blanket from behind you, offering it up to you if you wanted to sleep. You accepted gratefully, laughing a little when Spencer and Hotch on either side of you helped to tuck it around you snugly. Your laugh was a sign to the team that they could relax. That you’d be fine. As you fell asleep, you felt Hotch lean into you a little more, still holding the icepack on your face, and the knowledge he was there was enough to lull you into slumber.
---
Spencer woke you gently and told you that you’d landed. There was no one left on the plane, but you’d trapped him into the window seat. He waved you off when you apologised.
“You’re really important to us, Y/N,” he said, letting a few walls down now that everyone else had gone. You knew it must’ve been hard for him to hear her say those things to you. You’d talked about childhood bullying before, helped him to work through his own without telling him your experience. He’d probably feel guilty that he hadn’t known, but you pulled him into a rare hug.
“You’re important to me too, Spence,” you said, knowing that he’d really meant it personally. You felt his smile against your shoulder and grinned at him sleepily when you pulled away, both of you making your way off the jet. You walked into the office and shared compulsory hugs with the rest of the team, including Dave who you didn’t think you’d ever hugged before. When the hugging was over and people began to make their way home, you looked up at his office.
Hotch.
He was leaning against his desk. Not working. You knew he was waiting for you, so you hopped up the steps and let yourself in without knocking, letting the door close behind you with a soft click.
As soon as the door was closed, his shoulders fell and his posture became hunched.
“Hearing her talk to you like that…”
He trailed off and your heart melted. You walked towards him and rested your hands tentatively on his biceps, feeling the muscles relax at your touch.
“Hotch,” you breathed, “We’re home now.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” he said, eyes flashing upwards to meet yours and that anger seemed to be back, but it was directed inward, “She was saying all this crap about you and I didn’t even do anything, I didn’t want to intrude but then she- she slapped you, Y/N.”
He was talking in facts, a trick he used to take the emotion out of situations in which he got too emotional. You recognised it in an instant. The small protective edge he had for you was one that you shared for him, so you noticed these things. Made a habit of it.
“I know,” you said, nodding, “But that icepack did the trick in bringing the swelling down- look.”
You reached down and grabbed his hand, bringing it up to rest on your face. You knew it wouldn’t hurt. His touch was so hesitant around you, always worried to overstep a mark that you wanted him to leap over. Now, seeing him care about you made you bolder than you had been with him in the years you’d loved him.
You’d realised you loved him, actually, really loved him about two years ago. It had been three for him. Two beings hopelessly devoted to one another, yet kept apart by paralysing fear. You were kind of over it.
You leaned into his hand, but he was the one who closed his eyes and relished in the touch.
“You took care of me,” you whispered into the relative darkness of his office, lit only by the soft glow of the overhead lamp, “See?”
He shook his head with a gulp.
“Shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.”
“What could you have done?” you asked, smiling, “Slapped my mother first?”
He cracked a smile at that and his chuckles joined your own giggles in a few seconds.
“I wouldn’t have done that,” he insisted and brought his other hand up to cup your other cheek in an act of boldness spurred on by your own. Perhaps he was tired of not just being with you too. God, you hoped so, “You looked so...ashamed afterwards and you had nothing to be ashamed about. All I- all I wanted to do was take you in my arms and take you away from there.”
He’d never spoken like this before. You basked in his words, enjoying the pleasant tingling that had erupted down your spine. You were feeling lightheaded again, but this time you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“A nice thought,” you hummed, “I think I could get used to being in your arms.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I think so,” you were breathless as you leaned closer to him, because now you’d had some of him it would never be enough. You needed it all. You needed every bit of him, because now you knew it could be yours if he said it. You needed him to say it.
“You wanna know something?”
“I really, really do.”
You were getting closer with every word. Breathier with every passing second.
“I’ve loved you for years,” his lips brushed against yours as he whispered the key to his soul, “And nothing hurts me more than seeing you in pain.”
You closed your eyes and brushed your lips against his again, fleeting, a promise.
“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” you gave him your soul in return, because it was the fair thing to do, after all.
He pressed his lips against yours properly, for the first time. All at once, the world tilted and you had found a new course for the future, one where you hoped Hotch - Aaron, as you moaned when he began a path of kisses along your jaw - would keep kissing you like this for a lifetime.
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rosesareviolentlyread ¡ 4 years ago
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BTHB: Forced to Beg
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GUESS WHAT it’s more fae bb, she just refuses to stop coming up with ideas, so for now I’m using her for most of this BHTB card! I’ve already got quite a few planned out, but if you have a request for a square with another of my characters or just a scenario you’ve always wanted written, go ahead and send it in! 
If you want to read more, this is part of my Fae BB series, a modern magic world heavily inspired by @0idril0 and @whumpywhumper‘s Nico & Markus/Lucien series respectively (idk when I’ll stop plugging them and their series’ because I LOVE IT) I HIGHLY recommend you check them out. . On my blog page I have a summary and masterlist up now.
Follows sometime after Water
Thanks to @whumpywhumper​ @bleedingandfeverish​ and @straight-to-the-pain​ for beta reading and @quirkykayleetam​ for the idea!
CW: Intimate whumper, religious whump, captivity, toxic religion, creepy whumper, eye gore, SERIOUS eye gore, body horror
“What is this?” Pastor John holds a thick stack of papers in his hand. They’re covered more in handwritten colorful ink than the original black and white printed texts, notes squished into every available space in a rainbow of information. Careful, precise handwriting on crisp paper, that crumples and gives under the punishingly tight grip of the man, veins popping in his hands.
Sitting back on her heels, on her knees, Faith keeps her hands still, gently clenched on top of her thighs. She tries to keep her voice even,“I-I was researching, about the Fae. About myself. It is where I failed in my path, in my work. ‘First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.’ “ 
A deep sigh comes in reply, an echo of disappointment lingering in the air. “Luke 6:42, very good. Yes, I know, we discussed this. I agreed to give you back your research, so you could look at it with new eyes, to see the wickedness you were born into. But these—” He squats in front of her, sharply pressed slacks crumpling on top of old leather loafers in her downcast vision. The papers flub-blub-flub in his hands as he shakes them, a curious sound that would make her giggle if not for the severity of the clipped tone. “These, Fae, look an awful lot like notes on magic. Spells. And ways to perform them.” 
“T-They are, Pastor. But only for understanding how it works. The nature of my sin.” 
It’s a weak excuse, a bad excuse, a stupid excuse. God above, how stupid was she, to think she could lie and get away with this?
Silence weighs down upon her thickly, the world of lies she’s been living in pressing in on all corners. Lies that have weighed on her since before she knew them. But that weight is no longer intangible, now he can see it, she can feel it. The burden of her sin has fallen on her shoulders, and she’s chosen to carry it. 
But after all, God isn’t supposed to tempt you beyond your ability. That there would be escape with the temptation. The problem was, what was the temptation, and what was the escape? 
Somehow, she’d thought that maybe if she had been born magic, been born to all those things supernaturals believed in, something in that magic could be the thing to save her. Could be the sign she’d been looking for. 
Because when the fire in the water, the attempt of iron baptism to burn her sin, had met her soul, it hadn’t just burned away the edges of faith concealing who she really was. It had ignited something within her, some temptation she’d always known, which had followed to this point. Had followed, to her folly, again thinking it was the escape God intended for her.  
God had no mercy for Eve, and he would have none for guilty Fae who have chosen the apple over the garden. 
A hand tilts her chin until she’s looking at his eyes. His eyes that are slightly red, tears budding at the edges that she hopes are flowers of forgiveness, the forgiveness he preaches to her, the forgiveness that is the only thing she prays for now. From her supernatural friends, for not listening. From her parents, for lying. From her brother, for everything.
“Why would you lie?” His voice breaks, leather tones cracking like a brittle piece left to dry in the sun. With it, a tear falls, bright against the irritated blotchiness of his skin, a wet sound to his breath. “After all we’ve done, Fae, all our— why would you lie rather than ask for forgiveness?” A hand so soft and gentle cups her face, brushing a thumb across her cheekbone. Her own tears smear with it across her cheek as she leans into the touch. 
“I’m sorry.” 
No, that’s a lie too, if she’s honest. She’s not sorry for trying to escape this hellway to heaven. But the fact is she put herself here. Let herself fall back into sin again and again.  Forgot how to be truthful, how to be honest and think of anything but herself. Had she ever really? Had she ever meant it? 
Was she Eve, tempted into sin, or a devil in disguise here to tempt the faithful?
“I don’t see it. Show me, show me you are sorry” She watches with pleading eyes as he gets up, figure blurred to her tearful regret. He moves away, the gentleness gone. Arms are clasped in front of him, waiting, a stone statue gazing down on her, leaving her to make her own contrition.
“Please, please. I am sorry, I am. I lied. I was- was tempted by it. Again. I should’ve known” 
Silence meets her, unmoving, unwavering, unsatisfied. 
So she tries again. 
“C-corinthians 10:13 says,  God will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, so I was tempted, tempted to see what magic could do but God, my love for him, would never let me be tempted to do magic. The knowledge, that was- was my escape from temptation. To know, so I wouldn’t be tempted to do. Please Pastor I recognize it was wrong, I know, I knew and I did. Please by the Lord’s mercy forgive me” 
It’s absolutely a lie, now. Because she’d tried to use those tiny tendrils she felt in her body, a whisper of a voice of a song she didn’t know, couldn’t know.  But as those eyes bore into her, her body starts shaking, using all the movement he should be. But he’s just standing there, silent, as more words pour out of her mouth, as she mistakes proverbs and words in her stumbles to try and explain, to try and reconcile her actions.
The silence leaves her with nothing to do but try not to drown in her repeated mistakes, drops in a bucket turned tub turned ocean of her own making. Why was she so incapable of doing the right thing? Of doing what he said and leaving? Why did she insist on making herself take two steps back for every step forward, putting her foot in her mouth even now. 
Her penitential deluge is interrupted by a sigh, stopped dead in its tracks.  After what feels like an eternity of stoned silence, the Pastor turns swiftly, leaving her with nothing but the thud of his steps before there’s a return to silence. 
Her brain tries to comprehend what it means, tries to dissect every minuscule facial movement imagined or not seen in the shadows of the dark. Did he forgive her? Did he believe her? What had she even said? The memories of her own words slip through her fingers like water, as ‘should’ve’s’ and better words come to mind. 
Her panicked race of thoughts is interrupted by the creak of stairs coming back down. Distinctive by now as they evoke the hope of mercy and the fear of discovery, the duality of her new existence, her limited choices. 
This time, she prays it’s hope she feels. 
When she opens her eyes to see John holding a box filled with things, it is instead a rabbit-hearted dread.
“Pastor?” 
His breath hitches through his nose, voice almost cracking. “I prayed, I did, that we could prevent this. But I see, now, that we may have to take a push forward to prevent a backslide.” He sets the box down, but she doesn’t dare look, doesn’t dare look away from the kindness in his eyes, the gentleness of his hands that is all she can cling to down here. 
And gently, those hands lay her down, one rubbing circles into the back of her head while the other presses on her sternum in an unspoken command that makes her fold like paper. It feels like a dream almost, something unreal, something that’s happening to someone far away as hands are pulled above her head, fastened together and to a wooden beam tightly, so tight it’s tingling in her fingertips like tiny fireworks as blood struggles to meet them. 
The box scrapes against the ground, and she feels a heavy weight settle on her pelvis, her eyes refusing to look away as John pulls on a pair of purple gloves. 
“Matthew 18:9,” is what he says as a latex finger goes to flick a tear that’s leaked out of her eye harshly, the material dulling the warmth of his skin, an alien touch that suddenly makes him feel less human, but more real. 
Matthew 18:9. Matthew 18:9. What is Matthew 18:9? 
The hand goes to squeeze her shoulder muscle, sending a lance of pain up her numbing arms, eyes shooting open wider. 
“Fae. What is Matthew 18:9?” The voice becomes rigid. Severe. Bitter. Like the time where she was struggling to breathe as iron-laced water flooded her lungs. When she failed to be purified by it, burning in a pooled hell. 
As the pressure increases, feeling like it’ll crush her muscle, her brain finally scrambles to find the words, fallen from her mouth practically unbidden
“And if your eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than with two eyes to be thrown into the hell of fire.”
The shock of realization makes her twist, thrash under the weight that sinks down on her torso, preventing movement alongside the ropes that cut into her skin with friction, barely allowing any flow of blood and turning her arms into numb weights.
“No, please, please no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry Pastor, please forgive” she scrambles for a plea, a phrase, something she hasn’t used yet. “J-James 2:13! Mercy triumphs over judgement.” But the hands ignore her, shuffling through supplies, wiping something cold and stinging all around her right eye.
 “Pleasedon’tdothis, 1 John 1:9 ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness’. PleasepleasepleasePLEASE!” Her voice is high and airy in her throat as she struggles to pull in air between the real weight of John on her chest, and the weight of her own panic allowing only the shallowest sips to reach her lungs. 
The hands stop and sigh, directing her gaze to his face. Her breath stops at meeting the cold gravestone slate of his eyes, frozen by his touch. 
“Proverbs 19:8 ‘Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying.’ I have shown you mercy. I cannot abide your crying anymore without punishment Fae.”
The tears start to flow as the stinging returns to her eyes, pleas now just helpless sobs as he sets objects beyond her eyesight. There’s the distinct smell now of antiseptic, overpowering. She watches him take a swig of clear liquid from a bottle next to her before he pours it over his hands, rubbing them together. 
“I wish there was another way. Your eyes, they see such awful words, they read such terrible things and give you ideas. I forgive you, but He will not Fae. I’m sorry.” 
His tone is resolute even as it fades into a gruff apology, body adjusting to squash the last of her apologies, breath escaping her flesh even as she wishes she could follow it. 
The hand readjusts to pry open the lids of her right eye, thick fingers too strong for the weak muscle. The liquid burns but she can’t close them against it, eyes watering until he’s a blur in her forced vision. The wetness of her tears coats the latex, and a second hand comes to touch her eye itself. Fae’s back attempts to arch under the strain, body screaming with a not supposed to be there don’t touch thatnotsupposedtoTOUCH!
It’s a sharp pressure that builds quickly overwhelming her senses. Sobs turn to screams, wailing on every exhale, short between breaths. It could be minutes. It could be seconds. But the pain feels like an eternity as every piece of her screams against the intrusion to the softest, most vulnerable, most exposed of her organs. The world goes white, pain turned into high pitched noise in her ears as her heart struggles to keep up, a rhythm of thumpthutmpthutmpthump that speeds impossibly fast in her chest. 
And then there’s a pop. Sickening, slimy, a noise that reminds her in a delirious amount of pain like the sound of a sucker out of someone’s mouth. Quiet, slightly slurpy as it’s crushed and pulled, leaking not just tears but now blood and fluid. It’s disquieting to hear it. 
It’s most disquieting to see it freed, for a moment. The world drifting in a nauseating set of two distances, warping to her brain as he doesn’t stop. No. He pulls.��
As the cord snaps, she remembers hearing about the dangers of taut ropes. Of how, when they snap, they whiplash back, causing severe injury. The physics teacher had demonstrated on a rubber band, and she remembers the small snap on her hand that day as she tried it with a lab partner. The feeling like her skin had torn open. 
She has no idea if the nerves react like a rubber band, but her brain tells her that they have. That her entire right side has been whiplashed, shattered bone, ripped skin, blood pouring in heated rivulets until all she can taste is copper and pain. Her face is gone, skull crushed by agony as it booms within in an explosion like a firework set off far too close. A haphazard celebration. 
And it’s his smile of celebration holding a piece of her that she sees as the other half of her world goes dark.
Tags:@bleedingandfeverish @starry-whump  @whumpywhumper​ @greatandquestionablecontent​ (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)
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lilixloveswhump ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Collar
Whumptober 2020 - Day 2 (Prompt: Collars)
start//end masterlist
TW: swearing (one word), mention of rape, collared and leashed, electricution/taser, pet whump, lady whumper
“Oh, you’re awake!” Her voice was chipper, sending a jolt through Felix’s body as She flipped on the light. He shielded his eyes as he peered up to look at Her, watching as She swiftly entered the cage, just as She always did. He whimpered as he struggled to drag himself backward, tripping over his limbs, unable to even crawl properly with how weak he felt. It was too cold down there, he was always shivering and he hadn’t had a proper meal in, what, days? He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, whether it was day or night, September or October. All he knew was hunger, cold, darkness,
And Her.
She smiled at him, Her lips covered by the mask but he could see the crow’s feet at Her eyes. He couldn’t tell if there was genuine happiness or not. He couldn’t tell which he preferred.
His breath hitched as She reached a hand out at his throat, freezing him in place as She wrapped it around his neck, the smooth leather of her gloves caressing over the fine hair running down the nape of it, sending shivers down his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears threatening to slip through when he couldn’t even manage to utter a desperate “please.” He was like a baby doe in the headlights when it came to her, halting all movements and willing himself to completely disappear from existence. He whimpered quietly as he felt something wrap around his throat, slight pressure on his adam’s apple following.
Felix caught the amused chuckle that escaped Her chest as She did so, and it only made the tears fall faster. She enjoyed his fear, and he could hardly even blame her. It was silly, She hadn’t even done anything to him, yet, and he was still a blubbering mess. She pulled back and Her hands were gone, but the tight sensation on his neck remained when he opened his eyes. His hands immediately reached up to feel it, eyes widening at the leathery texture and twinkling in confusion at the subtly ‘clink’ when his fingers grazed the front.
“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” She waved a finger, ending in a crude point. “Hands down.” He stopped, his hands falling to his lap as he feared the consequence of continuing to mess with it. A collar, it must have been a collar. Would it shock him if he touched it? If he tried to take it off? God...would it tighten? Could it cut off all of his airways, would he slowly suffocate if he tried to figure out what on earth was hanging from the front? He didn't know, and he didn't care to find out.
"Don't worry, pet. You'll see it soon." She said, tilting her head to rest it on her hand. She heaved a satisfied sigh, eyes crinkling up as she smiled at him. "You've been so good, my sweet little angel." She uncrossed her arms and dug into her pocket, pulling out something pink and wrapped up into a coil around her hand. His jaw wobbled as She approached, his mind jumping to all the possibilities of what the thing could be. Was She going to whip him? It didn't look like a whip, no, no. It looked…it looked like string, but…it was far too thick to be…oh. His heart stuttered as he heard the click, the woman's face suddenly down next to his. He hadn't realized until it was on, drooping down from his jugular and swooping back up into Her hand. It was a leash.
"Stand up." He barely heard her, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was leashed. He was collared and leashed like some kind of animal. It was a nice leash too, a silky little pink color, one he figured was probably used for bedroom purposes. Was this what this was? Holy fuck, was She going to rape him? The shame crept at his face, staining a bright crimson color up to his ears. He was sure he'd begun to cry again. A slight tug pulled him from his thoughts, the flimsy rope bouncing on the air between them. "Up." She repeated and he pushed himself to his feet. He still didn't know what the collar did. It was best not to test it.
The woman reached into Her pocket once more, pulling out a small capsule. She shook it in her hand first once, twice, a third time, then cleared her throat as Felix flinched back, a long cane-like rod protruding from Her hand. She pressed a button and it zapped, little bolts of electricity lighting up the sides as She presented it like some kind of show.
He got the message, swallowing hard as She turned around, tugging on the leash gently to egg him along. He followed Her out of the cage, the first time he'd set foot outside of it since he'd been there. She led him to the stairs and he reached for the railing, halting as She spun around, reaching the cane out to where his hand hovered. "Ah, ah." She tsked, shaking Her head and watching as he brought his hands back together, clasping them in front of him before nodding approvingly. "Good boy." She sang, flipping back around and continuing up the steps.
Felix could feel the temperature change even before he stepped through the door. Her house was nicely decorated, and he figured She must have been wealthy, which only scared him more. If She was a powerful person who knew powerful people, She could totally get away with this sort of thing. There were a lot of windows, he noted the pulled curtains as he followed Her through the house. It must have been night as there wasn’t any light seeping through the cracks. There was no point in hoping a nosy neighbor would spot him.
She stopped suddenly at a mirror, a fancy one mounted to the wall at shoulder height, framed with shards of opal and pearl. “What do you think, pet?” Felix found himself in the mirror, slightly less horrified than he expected to be, but then again, things were always worse in his head.
The only part of his face that was sunken was his eyes, heavy bags laying underneath them from sleeping on a cold floor, but he didn’t look starved. He wasn’t as pale as he thought he’d be, and it made him wonder if he had been exaggerating his shivers. Around his neck was a leathery, baby pink collar, a bell hanging just beside the clip to the leash. Next to it dangled a piece of metal; a nametag, in the shape of a heart. He moved his head a bit to get it to shift in hopes to read what She’d named him.
“It’s quite nice, isn’t it?” She chimed, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his reflection long enough to look at her. “I was originally going to go for black, you know. But…” She wrapped Her hands around the back of his neck, a few fingers creeping up to comb through his hair, “I think the pink suits you well.” She whispered into his ear and Felix felt each individual goosebump rise on his skin. “Now, pet, what do we say when someone gives you a gift?”
He finally moves his eyes, widened with horror as they laid on the serpent of the woman standing next to him. A gift? He didn’t ask for this, he didn’t ask for any of this. So he just stared, mouth agape, wondering how anyone could be so twisted.
“Oh,” She tutted, taking a step back from where She was hugged up on his shoulder, shutting her eyes in disappointment. She shook the capsule again, the cane coming out with a sharp ‘thwap!’ “I don’t own dumb pets.”
It only made contact with his skin for half a second, but it sent Felix to the ground, clutching his calf and shaking in disbelief. 
“Now, love,” His eyes blew wide as the tip of the cane was pressed under his chin, lifting his head up to look at Her, the crow’s feet once again in the corner of her eyes. “What is it that we say?” She didn’t even give him the grace over hovering over the button, her thumb instead placed on top and he knew all She needed to give was slight pressure to fry his brains.
“Th-thank you.”
A noise of satisfaction leapt from Her throat, her shoulders bouncing happily as another hand found itself tangled up in his hair. “You’re welcome, Angel.”
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fourthwingingit ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Two
Edit: tumblr didnt post my edits from my original post (like you know when you save something as a draft and go oh wait there are some errors like no header and awkward phrasing lemme fix them) so im gonna repost this eventually but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Edit 2: tumblr sucks and never lets me put the thing so... This is for the anon who requested a fic of touch starved clark and conner with the prompts 'nobodys ever done that to me before' and 'i just want to be held' sorry it got angstier then i ment it to.... hope you like hurt comfort
Clark hovered awkwardly outside the door to conners room. He was nervous about seeing the teen with everything between them and what he wanted to ask him.
He took a breath. Conner almost certainly knew he was there already. But that didnt matter.
Ma always said that manners matter
He knocked.
From inside came a muffled, annoyed, and clipped
"What is it clark?"
Taking that as the best invitation he was going to get he opened the door and went in.
He looked at conner. The kid was on his bed, facedown on top of the covers like an angsty teen in a movie.
Clark thought he looked too small for the position he was in. Like he was waiting for some blow that was going to take a part of him with it to land... or like it already had and he was cradling a hole
Clark shook off the disturbing thought and steeled himself. He swiftly walked to Conner's bedside, and said, eloquently,
"Well. I... you see...... uh... lois- i mean to say..... uhh"
Lord this was already going to hell in a handbasket.
Conner turned his head enough to raise one eyebrow
"What the hell was that?"
He sat down a respectful distance away (as far away as he could) and tried again
"Hmm... you see i uhh- hmm you know how uhh.... things umm. Sometimes.... uhh"
Conner slowly turned his head the rest of the way to clark, confusion now written in every line in his body. great.
Clarks back bowed fast. Like his head gained 20 pounds in a half a second, his arms planted themselves on his knees and he gave up trying... he'd try again some other day. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe lois should do it.... Kal-el you coward.
"I... i dont know, ive got nothing."
But now he was scrambling, he needed a reason for being here. And what came out was;
"Ma told me shes uhh, seen you acting in a... less than..... ideal...... kind of.... way.?"
"Wow."
"No yeah i heard it"
"That was some next level awkward," and there was some distinct venom in that voice shoot. "if its that hard to be around me then you can find the door. I certainly dont need your pity handouts anyway."
Well.... shit
"No thats not.... im.... i wanted to ask- uh... whats been bothering you..... sport."
He now had what bruces kids called The Awkward White Man Smile... great.
Suprisingly, Conner chuckled.
Maybe a small part of Clark's brain said its not hopeless?
"Right now? Your social skills."
Banter! He hung around batman! He could do banter.
"Aww man and here i was thinking i was handing out winning lines."
"Oh no, youve gone senile a little early, well... maybe not early... good thing you've got Kara."
There was a small smirk playing at conners lips and an actual opportunity. God was real and he loved Clark Kent.
"At least I know I have two good boys to pick me up after im down." He looked away fast.
Silence stretched on
.......
Awkwardly
Oh lord he messed up the moment
He presumed too much and their only friendly interaction in over a month is ruined
"Two?"
The voice Conner used was so painfully soft and small. Like it didnt dare to hope anymore and had stopped trying a long time ago.
Clark never was good at leaving voices like that alone. And he was always more comfortable when something needed doing anyways.
Superman courage steadied him enough to take a risk.
He reached out his hand, and ruffled Conner's hair, trailing his fingers down after to rest on the shoulder closest to him and said.
"I have two kids dont i?"
More silence
Conner was frozen beneath his fingertips
He panicked
Oh god
He had fucked it up
He had fucked up enough times that conner didn't want anything to do with him
Okay damage control
"That is...." Conner stiffened further "if i haven't been so horrible to my eldist that he doesnt want anything to do with me"
The silence was now so deep he could hear the dust motes brushing against everything
He heard a tiny sniffle
And then he telltale sound of tears hitting bedsheets.
His head whipped around, his glasses flew off somewhere into the room. He barely noticed.
Shocked, he started to speak but Conner cut him off before he could finish the first syllable.
"You know when i was in Hawaii i used to watch families. Specifically parents and children. I'd be so jealous of-"
Conner cut himself off.
"Nobody's ever- i mean...... parents do that to their kids.... the hair touching thing.... Nobody's ever-" his voice broke, he cleared it. "Nobody's ever even tried to touch my hair if we werent kissing."
He gave a pitiful, watery laugh and, after a breif, stunned, pause, started rambling about how "of course i get it cut, like, the barber touches it and stuff..."
And it all hit clark.
Somehow it had never occured to Clark, that even though Conner looked like he was so much older than Jon, he wasnt.
He wondered who raised him
Who fed him
Who hugged him through nightmares
Clarks heart broke
Because he was certain the answer to most of those kinds of questions was 'Conner' and none of them were "Kal-el" or "Clark Kent"
Clark turned a bit and ran his hand over Conner's back softly, cutting off his rambling and said in a voice that was somehoe warm but still felt guilty and mourning;
"What do you want? What can I do?"
Conner was stunned. Kal had never given him anything like this. So he kept talking to give his brain time to catch up.
"I don.... i- i used to watch families... in- in Hawaii, and I'd get jealous of the kids, that they got to have families. Got to have parents. I dont..."
Clark turned a little to properly face his son and grabbed his hand.
"What can i do Conner?"
One day ago Conner would have asked for a lot. To never see Kal again, the superman title, his spot in the JL, even some time with Jon. But now?
Conner shifted, he sat up as best he could. And guided Kals hand to the side of his face, through tear tracks, held it there for a second, and then slid it into his hair. All thr while leaning into it like it was the only support he needed.
"I just want to be held.... without expectations..... without titles or rules or anything in return."
Connor wouldnt meet his eyes, or look up from the bedspread during his request.
For the second time that day Clark's heart broke. But now he had something he could do.
He reached out with his other hand, guiding his son into his arms, and gently layed them down
He kept one hand on the back of Conner's head, stroking the strands there. And one hand on Conner's back slowly moving back and forth.
From the first point of contact, Conner's world narrowed to the hand Kal had put on him. And now, there was more. Now he was allowed to reach out. He wanted to get closer. To bury his face in Kals chest and curl up small. To let the world fall away around them. Until nothing existed but them. Holding each other forever.
Kal seemed to read his mind, and guided his head to tuck itself under his chin and pressed them closer together.
No promises, no strings, no obligations after.
He could leave whenever he wanted.
He wanted to stay forever.
Conner wondered breifly what was like to be held by a father. If it felt as nice as this. Like everything crashed in on him, but it was okay.
Maybe, he thought.
They had a maybe.
And this maybe was a lot of ground to stand on.
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snffbeebee ¡ 6 years ago
Text
RED ( Part 12 )
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{ Catch up with Part 11 }
Warnings - Language, Smut... think that’s about it.
Word Count - 4,678
The smug smile was not going to disappear anytime soon as Dean draped his arm over your shoulder while the two of you made your way out to the parking lot.
“Let’s get moving,” he said as he dropped his arm down to open the car door for you.
“Where to next?” You smiled up at him.
“Wherever we want,” his eyes lit up with a smile that reflected your own as he pulled you close.
It was almost like everything that had happened between the two of you just melted away. He was Dean, and you were you. Perfectly happy living in the moment with no care in the world...at least none you would admit. There was a sharp pain that would hit your gut that you often would just ignore.
Crowley had been rather absent since that night at the strip club. It was a relief not to hear the snarky and whiny remarks from the narcissistic demon, however you challenged him. That was probably what you felt… worry. What was he going to do? Dean was wrapped so tightly around your finger as you fought and fucked across the country, never staying in one place for more than a day. Would he even believe Crowley over you now?
The more time you spent by his side, the more you had come to accept the novelty of having him for once give you genuine smiles, telling you exactly what was on his mind, and not having the weight of the world pushing down on him. It hadn’t taken you long to join him. To let go of everything and give you the release you hadn’t felt in years. No matter what life threw at you, together you could conquer it all with a whiskey and a laugh afterwards...and of course, mind numbing sex that sent every nerve of your body on fire with each touch.
There was no holding back, inside the bedroom and out. The two of you were as wild as the beasts you had hunted in the night. Howling at the moon together, feeling the high of the freedom...nothing was ever going to bring you back down.
The linens on the motel bed were thrown in every other direction than what they had originally started in prior to you pushing Dean down to it. Both of your bodies, bare to the cool air glistened with sweat as you exhaled and inhaled deeply to catch your breaths. You were undoubtedly a sticky hot mess in the Georgia heat. Getting up to retrieve a drink of water you found that there was only the tepid water from the sink. There was barely a choice in the matter, you had to go to the ice machine or at least find a vending machine around. You shimmied into your discarded pants from the floor, while also grabbing at the nearest shirt within your reach. You smiled when you realized that it was Dean’s favorite, even from before the days of the black eyes. It smelled just like him as it laid upon your damp skin. Dean sat up and smiled, watching you silently take it in.
“You’ve always looked good in Red, sweetheart.”
You gave him a sly smirk as you moved to stand between his legs, edging them a little bit further apart with the bump of your knees.
“I think I like it”
You went to put your lips to his when you heard someone clear their throat. Letting out a frustrated sigh onto Dean’s lips, you closed your eyes for a second then turned to look at Crowley.
“ I thought we had finally gotten rid of you. “
Dean wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a kiss on your neck with a smirk on his face.
“ The men need to have a little chat if you don’t mind.“
When you just looked at him, Dean tapped your ass, then pushed off the bed to stand up.
“ Go grab some food. “
You glared at Crowley after pulling your jeans and boots, tucking Dean’s shirt into the front of your jeans.
“ Nothing for me, thanks. “ Crowley smirked.
You kissed Dean once more, pulled on your jacket then slammed the motel room door behind you.
Dean picked up the bottle of whiskey that sat on the little nightstand and took a long swig.
" You wanted to chat? " Dean stated as he pulled the bottle from his lips.
" No we needed to chat. " Crowley said, taking his hands from his pockets.
" Oh and whys that now? " Dean smirked as he set the bottle back down.
"You've gone off the rails with that little whore of yours Dean. You've forgotten the big picture. "
The smirk never left Dean's lips as he tilted his head to look at him.
" Your big plan for us to rule Hell together? " He said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. " That plan died weeks ago, didn't you notice that? "
" All I've noticed is how off of your game you have gotten ever since your little lady stepped into the dark side. You do know she's playing you right. " Crowley pointed out, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
" Oh really now...just like you have been ever since Cain gave me this stupid mark on my arm. I know how your mind works Crowley, probably better than you do. "
" I can't believe that you can't see what she's doing to you. You may have black eyes, but squirrel you are far from a demon now. "
" Are you done? " Dean asked, closing his eyes for a second, then looking straight at him.
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Crowley looked at him for a minute and knew that it was time.
" We're done. "
A smirk pulled at Deans lips as he watched Crowley fidget with his hands back in his pockets.
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" You know what Dean? It's not me, it's you. " Crowley stated, before pushing past Dean to walk out the door.
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There was almost a feeling of relief when the door clicked shut and Dean was left alone in the motel room. A smirk came to his face when he thought about what Crowley had said, but he didn't know if it was because that he said he wasn't like a demon anymore, or if it was about the fact that you had stepped into his blood red world and you were perfectly by his side. He knew that if this is how the rest of his life was going to play out, as long as he had you by his side, then he would love this life to the fullest, one thrill at a time.
Five minutes after pulling out of the motel parking lot, you went to reach for your phone and realized that you had left it on the nightstand in the room. With a shake of your head, you pulled a u-turn and headed back to the motel. Opening the door you seen Dean just standing there, lost in his thoughts. You walked over and put your hand on his cheek and felt that he was burning up. The touch of your hand made him flinch and you knew exactly what was going on with him. It had been a few days since he had killed anything, so you knew that he was on edge.
“ Hey, come on let’s go get something to eat okay. “ You said softly looking into those dark green eyes.
He took in a breath and without saying a word, crashed his lips to yours and kissed you passionately. When he finally pulled back and looked at you, you couldn’t control the smile that came across your face as you watched him walk out of the room. After driving for about 20 minutes, Dean pulled up to a little diner.
“ What can I get you guys? “ A blonde woman asked, as you sat down at a table.
“ 2 double cheeseburgers and fries please. “ Dean smiled.
“ Coming right up. “
Looking down at the table you noticed today’s news paper and the headline caught your eye. Picking it up, you quickly read the article and knew this was right up your alley. With your hunter instincts kicking in for the first time in a while, you slid the paper in front of Dean.
“ 3 teenagers found dead, their hearts missing. “ You said, pointing to the paper.
“ And ? “ He asked with a smirk, sliding the paper to the edge of the table.
“ And, sounds pretty wolfy to me. Why don’t we suit up and check it out after we are done here. “
“ I’ll pass sweetheart. “
“ Come on Dean. “ You hesitated, taking in a deep breath. “ I know what’s going on. You’re on edge, you haven’t killed anything in a few days, I can see it in your eyes that you are starting to come unraveled. Please. “
You ran your hand up his arm with a smirk of your own.
“ Do it for me...I mean you know how much I love you in a suit. “
He shook his head with a little laugh.
“ Fine, but you gotta suit up too sweet heart and... “ He leaned in close, his breath ghosting your skin below your ear. “ No underwear. “
“ Seriously. “ You said, as he leaned back in his chair.
“ Do I look like I’m joking? “
You narrowed your eyes to him before you finally gave in.
“ Fine. “
“ That’s my good girl. “ He whispered as his tongue peeked out and ran across his bottom lip, making you take in a quick breath.
After eating Dean tossed money on the table, then you made your way back to the motel and slipped into your FED suit, that you haven't worn in a while. You tossed your hair into a bun before coming out of the bathroom to see Dean standing there, already dressed. He had on one of your favorite suits. It was dark blue with a matching tie with white spots and of course the piece that put it all together, one of his long dark blue coats. You bit your bottom lip at the sight. You had almost forgotten how much you loved him in a suit. He smirked at you, as his hand came and pulled your hair from the bun, letting it fall onto your shoulders.
" I told you, I like it better down. You need to listen baby girl, or. "
" Or what? " you grinned, looking him in the eyes.
He tugged your hair, making your head fall back and he placed his lips to your throat softly.
" Don't worry about that, after we yank this wolf, I will show you. " He breathed into your skin, sending goosebumps all over you.
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You shook your head with a frustrated laugh when he walked out the door and slid into the impala.
After talking to a few people the two of you went to the place where they found the last victim. After scoping the place out, both of your heads turned swiftly to a nearby distance as a piercing scream echoed. You instantly bolted towards the sound, pulling your gun from your jacket. Seeing a big man bite down on a girls neck, Dean aimed and shot him, making him stumble and fall to the ground as Dean continued to empty his clip on the lifeless body. The girl slid down where she stood, her back against the tree. Snapping towards her to see if she was alive, you couldn't help but notice that she was young, maybe 16. You instantly got a sick feeling in your stomach when you realized what you had to do.
" Y/N, what are you waiting for? " Dean asked with annoyance.
" She's a kid Dean. " You pointed out as the girl looked up at you through tear soaked eyelashes.
" That's gonna turn into a monster and kill people, you need to take her out. "
You inhaled deeply before you lifted your gun and hesitated for a second. He was right, this is what you came here to do. Her eyes widened in fright, begging you to stop as you pulled the trigger and watched the life drift from them. Her eyes. They were now empty. Lifeless. Someone's daughter, a kid, was now gone because of you. You bent down and picked up what you had assumed was her purse. Maybe there was something in there that could tell you at least who she was, although the guilt would probably still remain.
“Let’s get going,” Dean commanded as you stare still lingered on her cold eyes.
“Dean...I,” you shook your head while standing up.
“Shh,” Dean whispered as he grasped you in his arms. “Don’t think about it y/n, it’s over now. Let’s get out of here before anyone else shows up.”
You followed steadily behind him, keeping your eyes to the ground. Her face changing seared into your mind. Everything was black and white before. Good versus evil. But what were you in a world full of grey?
Numb. That was the only word to describe it. The high you had for the last couple weeks was now gone. You couldn’t feel anything anymore as you sat in the dimly lit room alone. The purse that you had taken from the girl earlier sat idly next you, calling for you to tear through the contents to find something to make you feel again. Something to make you feel alive. The little red pack of cigarettes hidden at the bottom caught your eye like an old friend coming back to you.
Pulling one out gently, you pressed your lips around it, embracing the feeling of the paper touching your lips. The ignition of the lighter sparked and gleamed in your eyes as you moved the flame to it. Taking it in deeply, you inhaled the fire that burned your throat and crept down to your chest. You could once again feel the pleasure and pain it provided as you breathed it in. Laying your head down gently on the stiff bed, you allowed you mouth to part open and let the smoke slowly drift from you lips. Your mind became like the cloud that was sweeping and surrounding you. Repeating the motion again, you didn’t even recognize the sound of the lock turning on the door with Dean entering the room.
“What the hell? You’re smoking now?”
" I forgot how much I missed these,” you said while examining it between your fingers.
“Those will kill you ya know.”
“Says the man who lives off of double bacon cheeseburgers with extra onions and chili fries,” you laughed. “Anyways, who cares if they kill me? We all die someday. Well, most of us at least. We aren’t all demons Dean.”
He tilted his head as he looked at you up and down. He could tell by not just the look in your eyes but the way you were acting that you were edgy and hurting. Right then he got an idea and a smirk came across his face as he walked to stand in front of you. Taking the smoke from your hand, he put it to his lips, taking in a deep drag and letting it out slowly. You had no idea why, but seeing him smoke, kinda turned you on.
“ You got anything in that bag of yours that’s not jeans and tshirts? “ He asked, as he put the cigarette out in the little ashtray on the little table.
“ Like what? “
“ Something, elegant, maybe silk? “
You raised an eyebrow to him with a little laugh.
“ Why you wanna take me out on a fancy date Winchester? “
“ Something like that. “ He smirked. “ I’ll even wear this. “ He said, pulling a bow tie out from one of his bags and waved it a little.
“ I think I might have something. “
He tossed the tie on his bag and walked over and kissed you softly.
“ Go doll yourself, you’ve got 10 minutes. “ He smirked.
“ Yes Sir. “
Hearing those words come from you, made Dean take in a deep breath before he put his lips to yours once more before you got to your feet.
“ Go, don’t keep me waiting. “
You grabbed your bag and went into the bathroom and got ready. Opening up the duffel, you searched through the mess of clothes and smiled when you seen the black silk. You had stole this dress a few weeks ago, just in case and you were glad you did. After clasping the pearls around your neck, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror and smiled. When you opened the door, Dean turned around. You bit your bottom lip when you took in the sight of him in a tux. Not some crappy cheap suit, but a beautiful crisp tuxedo.
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Dean took in a breath when you stepped into the room in a long black slinky dress, a slit up the side, where your thigh peaked out just enough to tease him. His eyes trailed down the dress to see the black heels, the ones that he loved.
“ Well, if I knew that you cleaned up this good, I would have taken you somewhere fancy earlier. “ He smirked, holding his hand out to you.
You took it with a smirk of your own.
“ You ready sweetheart? “
“ Always. “
Dean drove for about 45 mins until he pulled up to a huge brick building, with cars parked all around.
“ Alright, where are we? “
He smiled, got out, opened your door and held his hand out to you.
“ Come and see for yourself. “
When you stepped through the big doors, there were people everywhere, waiters with champagne on trays, a jazz band playing in one of the big rooms and paintings all over the place.
“ You took me to an art gallery? “ You asked a little taken back.
“ Well you like art and well there is free booze. “ He said, taking two glasses from one of the waiters and handing you one. “ I thought we could have some fun..maybe get into some trouble. “
“ You really know how to romance a girl, don’t ya Winchester. “
“ It’s what I do darling. “ He smiled, hooking your arm with his. “ Let’s go mingle. “
After a few minutes, you stuck up a conversation with a couple who were there before they went away for business.
“ So you’re leaving in the morning? “ Dean asked, the older man with the thick beard.
“ Nope, we are actually heading to the airport straight from here. “
Dean looked at you and by the look on his face, you knew he was up to something.
“ So you were telling me about your place on the beach, where exactly are you located? I’ve got a friend that is on the south end. “
“ That’s exactly where we are. “ The blonde giggled.
After a few more minutes of small talk, Dean shook the woman’s hand then the man’s and took your hand in his.
“ Maybe we will see you guys when you get back, I’d love to hear more about that investment of yours. “ Dean smiled.
Following him out of the room, you looked at him, setting the empty glass on a random table.
“ What was that? “
Dean smirked devilishly as he let a pair of keys hang from his finger.
“ Come on, let’s go have some real fun. “
You shook your head with a little laugh as you got into the car behind him. He drove for about half hour before stopping in front of a big beautiful white house, right in alongside of the water.
“ My lady. “ Dean smiled, opening your door.
Before walking through, he nodded at the alarm box beside the door.
“ I’ve got it. “ You smiled, opening the box and within a minute, you disabled the alarm and closed the box, turning back to him.
“ After you. “ You smirked as he unlocked the front door.
The place was amazing, very cushy and expensive. You both explored the huge house, Dean touching every little thing he could after he tossed his jacket on one of the chairs in what you were sure was a living room, well at least one of many.
“ How about you not break things. “ You laughed.
“ Yeah yeah, why don’t you see if they have anything to drink and I’ll meet you upstairs? “
Before you turned away from the big staircase, he pulled you to him, moving the hair from your neck and diving in, teeth sinking into your flesh as he kissed you on the spot he knew always got you weak in the knees. As your eyes closed, you took in a sharp breath as you felt heat run through your body and straight to your core.
“ Don’t keep me waiting sweetheart, or I’ll start without you. “ He breathed, before moving away and walking up the long staircase.
You took in a deep breath, composing yourself before you searched for the kitchen and opened the fridge. You saw a bottle of Champagne, grabbed it, then made your way upstairs and searched the rooms one by one. Your search was over when you heard the sound of a piano. You walked down the hallway towards the sound, your heels clicking on the tile floor until you found the room where the beautiful melody was coming from.
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Leaning against the door frame, you watched as Dean sat at the old piano and let his fingers run over the keys, creating a sad, dark melody. You walked over, rested your head on his shoulder and watched as he effortlessly made the beautiful music.
“ I know all of your deepest darkest secrets, but I didn’t know that you played..how does that work? ” You chuckled into his ear.
A little smirk pulled on his lips as he reached for your hand and lead you to sit on his lap. There was something about the way he moved those fingers that made you shiver.
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You placed your hand over his and let your fingers move with his, wanting nothing more than to have them touching your skin like they were touching the keys. When your grip on his hand tightened, Dean knew that was his cue. He leaned forward until his face was in the crook of your neck and placed a simple kiss there as he intertwined your fingers with his. Before you knew it, he spun you around on his lap to face him and crashed his lips to yours. It was anything but soft or gentle, it was full of need and hunger. His hands found your hips and squeezed, not breaking his lips from yours, which earned a soft moan from you. As he slowly got to his feet, you wrapped your legs around his waist, your fingers threading through the hair on the back of his head. He took a few steps away from the piano bench and set you on your feet.
“ I think you are wearing too many clothes Y/N “
The tone in his voice, told you everything. Tonight you were to do as he said, and you didn’t hesitate to pull the sleeves off your shoulders and let the silk drop to the floor, Dean’s eyes watching the fabric steadily disappear from your body. Stepping out, you slid it across the tile floor, your eyes locking with Dean’s for a second. Before you could pull his mouth back to yours, he took one step back and just looked at you. The black bra, with matching underwear and a pair of knee high stockings to pull it all together. You didn’t even have time to blink before he had you up against the wall, his hands roaming all over your body as his mouth covered yours, his tongue invading your mouth furiously.
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Getting lost in the pleasure, Dean set one of his hands beside your head on the wall, and his other drug his nails from your ass, down your thigh pulling it to rest on his hip as he devoured your mouth yet again. Moving your hand from his neck to run down his chest, you looked over at the black piano just a few feet away. You took his hand in yours and lead him over to the piano then hoped on top of it. After that, Dean’s clothes seemed to disappear along with yours, scattered on the floor of the big room. Both of your breathing had turned into pants of pleasure as you explored, teased and tasted each other.
“ I’m going to have fucked you in every room of this house before we leave. “ He grinned as one of his hands found its way to your soaked center. The contact made your hips jerk up off the solid wood as a moan fell from your lips.
“ Are you gonna tease me all night Dean, or are you going to give me what you promise earlier? “  You smirked.
Without warning, he pushed two fingers deep inside of you and instantly found a hard and fast rhythm until you were shaking and coming on his fingers, and the black surface below you. You felt everything melting away as you got lost in the waves hitting you with his touch, his rhythm that was making you feel alive again.
“ How about we finish this on a more comfortable spot. “ He said, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder.
You still hadn’t stopped shaking, so you really couldn’t  complain, not that you would have as he walked down the dimly lit hallway and into a huge bedroom. Walking over to the biggest bed you had ever seen, he dropped you onto it with a bounce and hovered over you. You looked into his eyes and they were the most beautiful color you had ever seen them. The moment his lips attached to yours, you felt the tip of his cock, press into you. The mixture of pain and pleasure overcame you where you couldn’t help but let out a deep moan as he pushed deeper in.
“ Fuck...Dean. “
Dean smirked as he slid his hand up from your ass to clasp around your throat and the moment his fingers put pressure on your skin, he felt you tighten around him.
“ Right, I almost forgot that you love this don’t you. “
What came out of your mouth, was far from words, so you stopping trying and just nodded your head as he picked up his pace, going so deep his hips would hit the sweet spot with every thrust. You had no clue how long the sounds of skin on skin and the moans that fell from both of you filled the room, but as you laid there, your body covered in a layer of sweat, your mind stayed in a complete haze. You felt Dean situate himself on top of you, but keeping himself from putting his full weight on you. He looked down at you and ran his thumb over your swollen bottom lip and let out a little satisfied chuckle.
“ Dean. “ You said softly.
“ Yes beautiful? “ He whispered.
“ Tell me that we can handle whatever comes our way. “
“ Of course. “
“ Together? “ You asked softly, locking your eyes wit his.
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He pulled your hands in front of you, and laced his fingers with yours, giving them a tight squeeze.
“ Forever. “ He promised, before his lips met yours once again in sinful embrace.
“ Forever. “
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eleneyaeventide ¡ 7 years ago
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[ RP snippet/collab with @eliyon-starfury]
It had been quiet for them since their return to the small estate that Eli’yon kept up in return for him and Eleney’a’s living arrangements there. Life had, for most purposes, returned to normal. There were very few hints to allude anyone to their noble births with the way in which they worked about the estate. It was true, Eleney’a did have a small household that would assist her and Eli’yon had a farm hand or two to assist him. They’d occasionally allow a wayward traveler to spend the night within the abode before venturing out in the morning with a renewed sense of warmth and a full belly. The visions that Lord Duskhollow had implanted in his mind prevented him from obtaining a full night’s sleep since their departure however. He hadn’t mentioned any of it to Eleney’a. It was in part because of his desire to not want her to worry, but another part of his pride swelled with keeping such things a secret. He had never wanted to ask for help of anyone.
The sun was beginning to fade beneath the line of the trees that lay near the edge of their property and Eli’yon took that as his cue to return to the homestead on the estate. Valion had flown over the treetops at a speed which had made Eli’yon’s loosely fitting shirt ruffle wildly. It was rare that the beasts experienced combat these days. Eli’yon had delayed his deployment to Argus temporarily and his menagerie had settled in somewhat nicely to daily life, or so he had liked to believed. The hunting for their food had satisfied what he could provide in way of bestial urges. The wolfhawk landed in front of the estate with a hasty gust of wind and Eli’yon quickly slipped from the fur, patting the beast on the head briskly before shooing him off. He was trained well enough to know the grounds and where he could and could not travel to. It had given the beast master little to worry of. “Neya?” Eli’yon called as he stepped through the doorway and ran a hand through his newly tangled hair as a result of the flying.
There was a soft sizzling sound that seemed to echo through the small estate, the delightful scent accompanying it would allude to what she was doing and where she could be found before her voice carried through the hall to respond to him. “In the kitchen!” She was unlike her sister and many of her noble lineage in many ways, one of which was such a simple little thing but a difference made nonetheless. Eleney’a stood before the large oven with her thick, long, dark brunette hair messily tied up in a bun and very simple dress covered by a dainty apron. As he would enter into the room, she would not pause in her preparations of their meal, however she would glance over her shoulder to offer him a smile. “Welcome home, I hope the day was profitable?”
Eli’yon made his way through the modest estate with his nose leading him moreso than her voice. The dried mud on his boots trekked through the manor somewhat that followed his path through the halls. He arrived to the kitchen with a rather humble greeting as his hands loosely found themselves about her waist and his lips quickly pressed themselves to the crook of her neck. “I was expecting you to be wearing...less,” he spoke in a rather teasing manner as he pulled away from her to seek out the icebox. The magical contraption did an interesting job at keeping things and fresh and cool. His hand reached for the pitcher of mead and he poured himself a hefty helping of mead. The liquid was more than halfway consumed within seconds of the pour and he found his slightly dehydrated body only temporarily restored. “The fields are turning nicely.” He responded with a light shrug as he brought himself to sit at the small table a few feet from the oven. “And your day?”
She gave a slight pull away from him at the touch to her neck from his lips, but only because the sensation was a bit of a surprise and it brought slight goosebumps to form over her skin. There was a soft giggle that aided in showing that she wasn’t doing it maliciously. “It’s merely a piece of fabric, Eli’yon… though, I suppose I could have done without it and simply worn the apron,” Her response came almost as a musing for herself, something to remember in the future. “However, we have had some others coming and going today, I did not wish to flaunt myself before them without you here.” She turned around now to face him, listening as he continued on about his day a bit. “I’m glad to hear it, you’ve been putting many hours into it for it to fail. As for me? Quite uneventful -” Her words were clipped as she noticed the mud that had been tracked through over the floors.
With a determined pace, she moved to stand before him with hands upon her hips, a spatula sticking out from her grip. “Eli’yon Starfury! I spent most of my day tidying this pigsty up and you cannot find it in yourself to remove your boots before coating my floors in dirt?”
Eli’yon’s attention had drifted partially to a freshly baked loaf of bread on the table and he quickly took it into his grasp as he tore a rather large piece away. He placed the loaf back onto the piece of cloth that it rested on and he took a bite of the slightly warm bread. “You could have flaunted yourself before them,” Eli’yon admitted with a hushed chuckle as he swallowed the bread that remained within his mouth. “I am not opposed to showing others what is mine.” His voice was amused as his features mimicked the reaction of such as he smiled up at her as she approached him. Though when he had noticed her reasoning for doing such, he paused abruptly. His gaze dropped as he brought the tankard of mead to his lips once more in an effort to avoid the subject matter. “You do have a lady or two you can request to clean the floorss, Neya.” He responded somewhat swiftly. “It’s just simply some dirt.”
Her lips pursed and brows furrowed, an expression that often would oddly resemble her sister. “Yes, I am quite aware that it can be cleaned again by another, but the fact that I already spent my time doing it originally!” She was truthfully upset but it was not a serious discussion as her lips tugged into a grin and she founds herself chuckling. The spatula was placed to the table and her hands reached to undo the simple ties at her shoulders that would hold her dress in place, causing the fabric to fall from her form and simply remaining the apron. “But you do no not mind showing me off, hm? As yours, you say?” She asked, turning the conversation once more to turn the conversation to what it had been prior.
He indulged himself with another sip of the cool liquid as his pale eyes watched her intently. The falling of the fabric from her frame had caused his attention to watch its descent in an entertained manner as his eyes drank in what was visible of her frame on their way back up to find her face. “I do trust you to handle your own,” he replied to her as he placed the nearly empty tankard onto the wooden table. “Should some man find it within his being to do more than look, but I trust that those who come into this household would not.” His words were confident and his features held a similar look as he smiled up at her in a cheesy manner. “Not many so eager to find themselves in combat with one who has devoted their life to such things.”
“Of course, Eli, my loyalty is all yours,” Two fingers came to rest under his chin as she lowered herself down to place a soft kiss to his lips. “However… now that I have your attention, you’ve enjoyed some food and more to come, I believe it might be time for us to have a certain conversation that has been put off since our return. Before we become a bit… distracted…” Her gaze lowered to regard her mostly naked form as she stood straight once more and anxiously awaited his response.
Her initial words had caused him to smile somewhat but her continued voicing had caused that smile to disappear just as quickly as it had come. “You mean the conversation that your sister and her dog encouraged us to have?” He asked as his body slinked back into the chair somewhat. His hand moved upwards to indulge himself into his nervous tick as his fingers twisted the hair of his beard around them. His gaze was upwards and on her, waiting her confirmation despite knowing the answer to his question.
Eleney’a offered him a knowing look, her brows raised ever so slightly as she met his gaze. “Yes… that one,” She began before heading back to the oven. Her entire backside was now exposed as she had removed her dress, which she realized too late might have been a bit of a distraction and probably should have waited until the conversation had been completed. The food was removed from inside the oven and whatever pots or pans were on the stovetop were set aside. As she spoke, she went about preparing their plates. “You know, he is to be my brother-in-law and while he may seem a bit stuck on his high horse, I do not presume him to be such a bad man… and save for a few quips at you during our dinner, I could think of only one reason why you would be so against him…” Her words were a bit somber in nature, hinting at his remaining feelings for Elenaris but not speaking them loudly.
Her words had caused him to grumble beneath his breath in a quick and dismissive fashion as he pushed himself from the seat. Her current placement was more than enticing and more than inviting for him though he resisted his urges temporarily to grab the pitcher of mead and return to his seat with a loud thud sound of his body settling into the chair once more. “I do not still love your sister,” Eli’yon quipped loudly and in a forceful manner as he poured himself another tankard and ripped another serving of bread from the loaf. “How can you not sense that there is darkness within that man? Call upon your studies of the Light and feel something. He will bring nothing but despair and I believe you think that too.”
She stopped in her movements as he spoke, taking a moment for a steady breath and then she resumed her actions to pick up the plates and turn to place them upon the table. It was a simple meal, some meats and veggies with potatoes, but enough for them. “Do I sense a darkness? Yes, of course I do...but that darkness is also inside my sister as well and I think that perhaps the two of them together may do good things for her. At least keep her in line, keep her sane to some degree so that she does not fall further into the shadows. Who knows, I may be thinking too highly of Elenaris and her newly engaged but I know at least one thing is that while you may be disagreeing in their ways, she’s carrying my little nephew and if he brings nothing good but that one thing, I am grateful for that.” She went about picking at the food as she spoke, lifting her gaze to him ever so often to ensure he was listening. “And the way you acted at the dinner spoke tones of a different song… if your feelings were as deep as I imagine they were, it is okay for them to not completely to disappear.”
Eli’yon drew in a shaky breath and released it as Eleney’a brought him the plate of food and placed it down before him before moving to sit across from him at the tiny, wooden table. The food smelled delicious, as did it normally when she prepared it and his hand grasped the metal fork quickly to poke around at the contents of the plate. His opposite hand once more gripped the tankard and he took a healthy sip before placing the wooden mug onto the table. “Neya,” Eli’yon breathed as he placed the fork down so that a hand could move to hold the bridge of his nose. “You speak of my love for your sister but by the Light, I’ve no idea what you speak of. I had a military alliance with your sister and nothing more for as far as I can remember,” he admitted to her, his hand dropping away to reveal his pale hues to her and prove his honesty on the matter.
She had taken a few mere bites of the food but as he spoke, she completely stopped in all movement. “You..what?” She stuttered out, her lips falling apart slightly as she continued to try to comprehend what he was saying. “I’m sorry, what do you mean you do not remember anything more than that? Did you have an accident and did not tell me of it?” She stood and rounded the table to run her fingers through his hair in a manner of examining. “Did you bump your head?”
He seemed to become rather irritated when she rose from her chair and began to run her fingers through his hair in search of a possible wound. She wouldn’t find one however as he as there was no wound to be discovered, just slightly knotted hair from the flying he had done on his way home this evening. “This is not a joking matter,” he replied softly as he glanced upwards at the woman. His face appeared to be solemn and his eyes hinted at only being slightly panicked on the matter. His voice cleared, a possible defense mechanism to stop himself from becoming anymore emotional than he already was. “I can’t remember. Months of time? Gone as if it were nothing and at night? I’m plagued with these awful nightmares that not even the apothecaries can cure with their magics and their herbs.”
“I was not joking…” She said softly as her hands dropped from his hair and she began to look him over with just as much concern as she slowly bent at her knees to lower down before him. She sat on her calves as she gazed up to him. “Eli’yon, what has happened to you?”
He released a heavy sigh at her response as his line of sight followed her movements. Where she had gone, he had seemed to follow without actually moving. His hands dropped to lay in his lap and his eyes finally moved to shift to staring at his callused hands. He felt violated and unsure of himself. How could he actually know what was the truth and what wasn't when things were stripped so quickly and easily from him. “I've no idea,” he finally breathed. “All I know is that the man whom your sister calls her husband is responsible and I cannot even find it in myself to find a desire to fight him on it.”
The dainty and sweet features of Eleney’a’s face seemed to distort into more of angst fierceness. She quickly reached up to where his hands were in his lap and took hold of them with a stern grip. “I will figure this out, Eli’yon… surely Elenaris is unaware of what has transpired,” there was a steady inhale of a somewhat shaky breath. “Eli, I know you feel somewhat lost and that you’re unsure of what is and what isn’t real but… this is real,” her hands squeezed his even tighter,” I am real, okay? We will figure out what has done to you...if that is what you desire.”
The moment that her hands took his own, he managed to jump slightly. The feeling was comforting from heras Eleney’a had grown to be his primary source of support whether she had truly known that or not. “She’s not a fool,” he breathed quietly. “That much I am aware of.” The memories that had been left of Elenaris were just things that most citizens would know of her. Her status within the community, her wealth, her power and her ability to make an entire room bend to her will. The personal connection with her was gone, perhaps never meant to be returned. “I want someone to make him pay for what he has done to me. I want to be able to feel and know why I feel those things. Not to just feel things out of nowhere with no remembrance.”
“If you want your memories back, we will get them back, whether Elenaris knows or not. Whether she helps or not…” Eleney’a reassured him, her grip onto his hands was unwavering as she continued to speak, that was until she released with a single hand to reach up to cup his cheek softly. “Forget the prior conversation, we need not to kneel before their desires any longer, especially with this. We will live our lives the way we wish for as long as we wish. I was willing to have some sort of agreement or perhaps some sort of compromise but not now, they are not our rulers.”
He seemed slightly relieved at her change in decision but her unwavering support. Eli’yon knew the troubles of families with morals and mindsets that differed. His own family was a product of that. Mat’aes was the only Starfury that seemed to hold his father’s favor without interruption. Eli’yon and Aris were very rarely within that spotlight and he had almost preferred it. His marriage to Elenaris or even Eleney’a would have been giving his parents absolutely everything they wanted and regardless of his love for either sister, he was not so willing to indulge their wishes. “If we do not agree to their wishes, her dog has already made it clear that he will separate us,” Eli’yon finally spoke up as his chin leveled and his eyes bore into her own. “We’ve no choice than to submit or face unhappiness.”
She offered a heavy sigh as her hand fell from his cheek and both rested to his knees to aid her in standing. “Well, one way or another, a choice must be made. Unless you forsee looking for a different mate, I see little reason to fight the idea of us marrying, getting it out of the way and would no longer have to be concerned about any of it.” She pursed her lips as she gazed down to him now that she stood over him. “However, if it is truly something you do not wish, we will leave Quel’thalas and be rid of their heavy hands in another land.”
Eli’yon inhaled sharply as she pushed herself to stand once more and he followed suit to stand as well. The blonde man towered over her as his gaze softened and his neck craned so that he’d be able to gaze upon her. “Let us elope then,” he suggested as one of his brows rose momentarily. “Let us have a quiet ceremony in the woods with one witness and an officiant. Let us bring nothing special but ourselves and wear nothing fancy.” He explained to her, possibly in hopes that it was something she was agreeable to. If he were to marry it would be her in something quiet and private. “We need not tell Elenaris, her dog, or my father. It is none of their business.”
It was no playful surprise that Eleney’a offered in way of response to his suggestion. She took quite a long moment to respond and when she did her words were a bit soft. “Eli’yon… I don’t want you forced into anything simply because of the concern that they will attempt to control us further.” Her chin had lifted so that she could keep her gaze on him but her eyes flicked over his features briskly as her mind whirled with thoughts. “But if it is what you wish, I would be happy to join you.” She stated with somewhat of a blossoming pride. “ And together we will bring consequences for what has been done to you.”
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velmaadamrast ¡ 5 years ago
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Atari Brings Deer Seeker Competition To PC, 360 This Fall
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Confess it. You desire a military-style weapon with a big clip and long array because (1) it's a great tool as well as (2) you wish to prepare when the "black helicopters" supporting the U.N. A lot of the locations I hunted were smaller sized areas that were fairly level, open, and taken into consideration residential, and the landowners were hesitant to permit deer hunting with lengthy range tools. Deer hunting is now a leisure activity, arranged and also promoted for at the national level by the New Zealand Deerstalkers' Organization. Courses are run by organisations such as the British Association for Capturing and Preservation and this credentials is additionally consisted of within the Degree 1 deer tracking certification. Many deer seekers run out of suggestions regarding what to do with all their deer meat. The length of the period is frequently based on the health and also populace of the deer herd, along with the variety of hunters anticipated to be taking part in the deer hunt. The DFW will certainly additionally create specific period within the period where the number of seekers able to quest is restricted, which is called a regulated quest.
As their antlers end up being fully established, they will start to drop their velour. The velvet will certainly drop off of the deer when their antlers start to solidify in late summer to early be up to prepare for mating period in the winter. This mix has whatever that a deer might want, four kinds of clover, chicory, and little burnett, a perennial forb that suches as completely dry crushed rock or sandy soil where a whole lot of various other plants will certainly not expand. One more typical grievance regarding deer searching with pet dogs is safety. Constantly wear a safety harness when hunting from a tree stand. The bar activity is crisp and fluid, and the security system is "second to none." There will be future updates and also adventures of hunting with Henry! Chasing the target and also running at great rate throughout warm mid day will certainly provide an extraordinary pressure to any kind of animal. Prize elk searching guides can give you with info on all these facets as well as prepare transport and a place to hang your hat at the end of the day. The town obtains a fresh lease of life on the weekend break when the farmers market occurs every Saturday, with different vendors selling deluxe food as well as drink items which are most of the time locally-sourced.
I figured it was a canine as well as thought nothing more of it. He gulped and believed for certain he was mosting likely to be the bear's dinner. I'm not going to offer my point of view on whether I directly really feel that is fair chase or not, yet that's something that is worthy of further discussion. After even more looking into and also consideration, I chose I at the very least desired to provide this new searching alternative a try. The choice on what I wished to make use of was hard, and I talked to a number of seekers that were making use of high power rifles as well as had significantly more knowledge concerning this subject than myself. The mix of deer and also cars likely originates from more driving during the night throughout Thanksgiving week given that crashes during the night are 70 percent more probable throughout that week than other times of the year. When you are just searching for wildlife in your yard, it is best to utilize them during the night as this is when the fascinating wild animals appears. If one of these deer is frightened or upset, they can additionally blurt an ear splitting scream. Mule deer are found in the western United States in the foothills of the mountains.
The mule deer have taller skinnier branches on their horns where white-tailed deer normally have shorter thicker points White-tailed dollars are somewhat smaller sized than mule deer bucks. In Australia, there are 6 varieties of deer that are available to search. It was mainly all pasture at that time, yet now there are some crops like alfalfa as well as corn grown in the area. If you have ever before seen what can take place to a location once all the larger trees have actually been removed you understand very first hand how swiftly the under brush can mature. He sat back to relish what was one of his preferred times of the year: that very first daybreak of the new searching season. In the beginning I was exceptionally reluctant considering the surface in Indiana being not for risk-free searching with high power rifles. A few years earlier, Indiana added a high power rifle deer season and also I started considering adding a high power rifle. I constantly joked as well as asserted that I would certainly also "throw rocks" at the deer if there was a rock period for whitetail deer. In the late nineteenth and also twentieth centuries, there were numerous packs of staghounds searching "hauled deer" in England and also Ireland.
For instance, Kentucky permits the taking of antlerless deer throughout any type of deer period in the majority of the state, but in certain areas enables just antlered deer to be taken during components of deer season. Given that I have instead huge hands, I decided to buy the bigger lever manage that allows additional space for large hands and also putting on gloves throughout cooler outing. UK deer stalkers, if supplying venison (in hair) to video game suppliers, butchers and restaurants, need to hold a Lantra degree 2 huge video game meat hygiene certification. If providing venison for public consumption (meat), the company should have a totally working and tidy pantry that fulfills FSA criteria and also should sign up as a food service with the neighborhood authority. Approaches of seeking video game for wild meat as well as corresponding periods are subject to law by state federal governments and for that reason vary from state to state. That of course, undergoes transform, yet up until now, I absolutely love the means this rifle handles in close quarters such as ground blinds and tree stands. September as well as can copulate till February like in Texas. This breed jumps on remarkably well with other animals and also can be relied on with children.
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