#willow doing whatever she wants

[realgraps]

need the conglomeration’s tron graphics switched to a supercut of them fooling around on the briscoe family farm

[booasaur]

Willow (2022) - 1x01 - “She'll feel like I'm abandoning her when she needs me the most.”

[crownrots]

[yuridovewing]

ok so the hollyleaf idea i got from last post... what if instead of being jaypoppy or ashwhite kits like ive been debating with myself over the past few weeks... dovewing and ivypool were hollywillow kits.

the PEAK of hypocrisy.

[wiltingg4rden]

just not going to bother with it tonight

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), fluff, angst, misogynistic language/beliefs, violence

A/n: I hope this part is good enough for you guys to forgive me for being a week late!

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Part VI

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

To your disappointment, when you woke up the next morning, Eris was already gone—the sheets cold on his side. You let out a sigh and got up, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It was only then you realized Willow and Ivy were fretting around the bedroom, the wardrobe doors thrown open and piles of dresses on the floor.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

Your handmaidens jumped in shock at the sound of your voice before Ivy turned to face you. “Oh, Lady, you are awake! Lord Eris requested we pack an overnight bag for you.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?” 

They both shared a glance before shrugging but they couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces. “We can only guess, my Lady, but he did not tell us anything.” 

“Did he at least tell you where he’s taking me?” You sighed but they both shook their heads.

“No,” Willow grumbled, “Which is why we’re struggling to pack. We have no idea what you’ll need.”

But Ivy just smiled brightly. “We’ll just pack a bit of everything. That way you’ll be ready for whatever it is he wants.” 

The look in her eyes told you she knew exactly what Eris wanted and your cheeks turned red. You let out a huff of air before falling back down on your pillows. 

“Oh no, Lady, you mustn’t fall asleep again. We are to escort you to the stables in an hour's time. Willow will run you a bath.” 

You let Willow help you get ready, your mind on Eris and what he had in store for you. Willow dressed you in a long burgundy gown that had a corset styled bodice that clung to your frame and a flowy chiffon skirt. Tiny roses were embroidered along the lighter side panels of the skirt. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before your handmaidens were presenting you to your mate who was waiting for you at the stables. 

Eris was staring at you with an intensity that had your face full of color. It wasn’t until the two of you were left alone that his infamous fox-like grin spread on his face. He was dressed finely in dark brown breeches with riding boots and a tunic embroidered with small leaves along the seams. 

“Would you like your own horse this time, bunny?”

Right, you did technically know how to ride a horse now. But you shook your head. “May I ride with you?”

“Who am I to deny a lady her request?” Eris purred, extending a hand out to you. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you took it, letting him pull you close so he could lift you onto Marigold, the horse. 

He strapped the overnight bag to the horse before he lifted himself up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to take the reins in one hand and pulling you back against his chest with his other. Your cheeks turned pink and you let out a content sigh as the warmth from his body combatted the crisp morning air. 

Marigold started her trot into the woods and it was silent for a moment before you spoke. 

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," Eris teased.

"I don't like surprises," you pouted.

"No?" Eris's breath tickled the tip of your ear. He moved your hair to one shoulder, granting him access to your throat. He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin there causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Well, that's too bad, bunny. You're getting one." 

You were smiling without realizing it, so honed into the places Eris's body met yours. The morning birds were chirping, the leaves rustling in the chill autumn wind. It was enchanting. The Autumn woods were quickly becoming a sanctuary for you and your mate. You hadn't felt this happy in a long time. 

You asked Eris an endless amount of questions about the Autumn Court, his brothers and family, and his life during the horse ride to wherever he was taking you. The sun began to set, sending streaks of golden light through the openings in the leaves. It wasn’t until you saw smoke curling around the tops of the tree, that you realized you were nearing your destination. 

Soon, a small cottage nestled between the tall trees appeared. Moss and ivy clung to the outer walls, blending it into the earthy flora surrounding it. A path made of fallen leaves led towards the front door, flanked by wildflowers in various colors. The babbling of a creek met your ears as you squinting to see through the sunlight filtering in through the canopy of trees above. 

“What is this place?” You twisted your head to look up at Eris. 

“One of my personal residences,” Eris answered, staring wistfully ahead. “One few know about.” 

As you drew closer to the cottage, Eris guided Marigold to a stop. He slid off the back, keeping one hand lingering on your waist.

“And you're sharing it with me?” Another secret Eris was willingly divulging to you. He had no idea how much it meant to you. He gave you a charming grin as he helped you down. 

“There is nothing I wouldn’t share with you, bunny. What is mine is yours,” he said. He kissed the top of your head before guiding you into the cottage with a hand on your back. 

As you stepped over the threshold of the hidden cottage, the scent of aged timber and a faint hint of herbs and spices greeted you. A snap of Eris’s fingers had the wood in the fireplace coming to life. Furniture made from weathered oak and mahogany filled the room, now illuminated by the warm glow of a crackling fire in the stone hearth. A plush armchair was nestled beside the hearth, a stack of books on top of it.

In a corner of the room, a spiral staircase wound its way upwards, disappearing into the shadows above. An opening straight ahead showed a peek of a kitchen. You spun as you walked forward, taking it all in before turning back to find Eris staring at you with a small smile. 

“I come here when I need a break from my father and duties,” Eris said, surprising you once again with his candidness. “And I needed to come here today so I didn’t murder my brother for slipping that breeding tonic into your drink last night.” 

Your eyes widened. “Reid?” 

Eris nodded, his jaw clenching. “He claims he did it only to embarrass you a bit at dinner but then my mother sent you away. He says he had no idea that you’d run into those guards.” 

You rubbed your arm, looking down at the floor as the memories of last night flooded your mind. “And you believe him?” 

“I unfortunately do. That doesn’t mean he didn’t face any…consequences for his little prank,” Eris said as he walked towards you. He slipped two fingers under your chin and made you look at him. “But I want you to know, bunny, that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Do you hear me? I will not let anything happen to you. I don’t care who I have to kill to ensure that.”

“But Eris—”

He placed a finger against your lips, silencing you. “No. No buts. I was blessed with the gift of fire and I will burn down this whole world with no remorse if that's what it takes to keep you safe. Do you understand?” You opened your mouth to rebuke his words but Eris shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any objections. They will change nothing. Just a simple yes or no, bunny. Do you understand?” 

You searched his amber eyes for something, not even knowing what you were looking for. But you knew what you found. A heavy resolve, a promise, a need to protect. And you realized in that moment that you felt all those things as well. You swallowed, audibly. 

“Yes,” you whispered. “I understand.” 

Eris grinned. “Good.”

“So, why have you brought me here, my Lord?” You asked in a teasing tone, lightening the mood. 

“I brought you here to have a break from the suffocating nature of my court,” Eris answered, guiding you further into the charming cottage. 

“Well, I appreciate your consideration, my Lord.”

“Oh, back to formalities, little bunny?” That fox-line grin bloomed on Eris’s face. “I thought we moved past that last night.” He stepped closer to you, brushing some of the hair away from your face. Your cheeks turned red again causing Eris to chuckle, “Oh don't look so embarrassed, bunny. You seemed to quite enjoy having my affections.” 

Butterflies danced in your stomach. His scent was too enticing, the power that seemed to burn all around him all encompassing. Your face was on fire, your heart too. But he was right. You had enjoyed last night. You had wanted his lips on you, his hands on your skin. That hadn't changed. Even now that the breeding tonic had worn off. That craving for his touch was still there. 

"I believe you made me a promise last night, my Lord," you replied with a slight smile, toying with the laces of his tunic. 

“I did,” Eris growled and took your hands in his. “I intend to keep it.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes caused another wave of desire to crash into you. Unfortunately, your stomach decided that was the time to make itself known. A small rumble sounded and you nearly cursed at it. But Eris chuckled and stepped away, to your disappointment. 

“Come, bunny, I had the cook prepare us a light dinner,” he said, leading you to the kitchen.

Dinner consisted of an array of cheeses and breads, along with dried fruits and nuts. You were glad it was so light because you had more of an appetite for the male sitting in front of you than the food on the table. The sentiment seemed shared considering the lingering touches and heated looks Eris had been sending you. By the end of dinner, he looked quite pleased with himself for riling you up, sitting in his chair like it was his personal throne. Eris waved a hand and the dishes and plates disappeared in a blink of an eye. 

You sat frozen in your chair as he eyed you, drinking the last of his wine from his goblet. His gaze was enough to set you on edge, predatory but it didn't frighten you in the slightest. In fact, it made you come alive. He set his glass down before standing, making you hop out of your chair. If you had it your way, he'd toss you over his shoulder again like he did the first time you'd met and carry you straight to the bedroom. But instead, he leaned against the kitchen cabinets and beckoned you to him.

You'd never felt more like a bunny than in this moment. Like a hare about to be caught in a trap. 

As you stepped close to him, he brushed the hair out of your face, hooking it behind your ears before taking your cheeks in his hands. His touch was so warm, so comforting. Who cares if this was a trap? If this was the fox you were to be ensnared by, then so be it. 

“I need you to understand something before we continue down a path I know I will never be able to return from, bunny,” Eris began, his amber eyes glowing in the candlelight. “Whatever happens tonight is your choice. If you want to go back to the manor, I will take you. If you just wish to sleep, that is what we will do. Anything you don't like, just say the word and I will stop without question. Do you understand?”

A moment of silence passed as you processed his words, the care he was spelling out for you. Your hand fell on his chest, lingering over his beating heart. One you now knew was good—at least for you. And you realized it was never the fox that had ensnared the bunny but rather, the other way around. 

Because this Eris, the one standing before you now, was entirely reserved for you and you only. 

“Eris,” you whispered.

“Yes.”

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. “Please.”

“You'll never have to beg me, bunny,” Eris purred before finally pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss became heated fast, leading the two of you to stumble around the cottage until he was pushing you up the stairs. You giggled, taking your skirt in your hands to rush up the steps. You barely made it through the threshold of the bedroom door before you were grabbing Eris by the lapels of his shirt and pulling him into a frenzied kiss. He groaned, eagerly kissing you back as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

Your hands slid down to the buttons of his shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch. But Eris pulled your hands away from him before breaking the kiss. You whined at the loss of contact, lips swollen and breasts heaving with pants. 

“Not so fast, bunny,” Eris said with a wave of his hand that had every single candle lighting in the room. 

You gasped as the room came to life, as the light illuminated the large four-poster bed covered in dark red, velvet sheets and fluffy pillows in all shades of Autumn. A small hearth warmed the room and textured fabrics hung from the ceiling embedded with faelights that gave the room a hazy and comforting atmosphere. 

“Come here,” Eris rasped, holding out his arm. 

Your heart fluttered as you took it, letting him draw you close. He spun you around and moved your hair to one shoulder before his hands drifted down to the laces on the back of your corset. His nimble fingers began to expertly unlace your corset while he pressed a kiss to your exposed shoulder. You let out a breath at the feeling of his warm, soft lips against your skin. 

You reached back to help him with the ties, too eager to wait, but he ripped your hands away. “Relax, little bunny,” Eris purred. “Let me do all the work.” 

Your heart started beating faster.

“Okay,” you whispered. 

Eris smirked against your skin, satisfied with the response.

He finished unlacing the corset and your dress dropped to the floor, pooling around your feet and leaving you in just your underthings. You were nearly shaking with anticipation, your breathing heavy as he lightly brushed his knuckles down your spine, causing you to shiver. 

Eris leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Get on the bed.” 

“I thought you were doing all the work,” you teased.

“You’re right,” Eris smiled before he picked you up by the hips and tossed you onto the bed as you squealed, letting you fall on the soft cushions. 

He prowled towards you with a grin, unlacing his own tunic and tugging it off. Your gaze fell to his chest, his muscled abs. Your breath caught in your throat. Eris already looked like a God but he was built like one too. 

Eris’s eyes roamed your body, his hands fisting like he was restraining himself.

You held your breath as he slowly hovered over you, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he found the certainty he was looking for. And then he kissed you again and your body came to life once more. Sparks skittered down your skin, crackling with energy.

He kissed his way down your jaw, your throat, all the way down until he was scraping his teeth against your pebbled nipple still hidden under your bra. You gasped before slapping a hand over your mouth. 

Eris’s eyes shot to yours and he growled, “My one and only rule tonight is that you let me hear those noises, bunny. Do you understand?”

You gulped and pulled your hand away from your mouth, nodding your head though your cheeks turned pink. 

“Good girl,” he purred before continuing on, leaving a trail of kisses down your exposed stomach until he pressed a kiss to the dampened spot on your panties, right between your legs. You breathed out his name, so on edge. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned. “You smell absolutely divine.” 

You might be a virgin but you weren’t completely naive when it came to sex. You had certainly read enough romance novels to prepare you for this moment. But you hadn’t expected to feel like this—to feel so utterly captivated by Eris, aching for his touch. 

“I want to see all of you, bunny,” Eris murmured, his amber eyes drinking you in. He toyed with the straps of your bra as he gave you his famous grin that made him look all the more fox-like considering the absolute hunger in his gaze. “May I?” 

“Yes,” you said, breathless with butterflies ravaging your stomach. The desire for your mate ate away any embarrassment you might’ve felt otherwise. 

His grin grew, his elongated canines exposed. Eris slowly pulled the straps of your bra down your arm, the silky fabric moving softly against your tingling skin. And then his hands were beneath you, arching you up slightly so he could unhook your bra. 

He gently pulled the garment off of you, tossing it to the floor. 

“Beautiful,” Eris groaned, his hard cock pressing against your thigh told you just how true that statement was to him. 

Shyness started to creep in and you quickly covered yourself with your arms, blushing bright red. Eris tsked and moved your arms away. “Don’t be shy, bunny. It’s just me and you here.” 

Just you and Eris. Just you and your mate. His words eased you and you felt your body soften underneath him. His large hands caressed you as he kissed his way down your neck until he finally took one of your breasts in his mouth. 

You hissed, your hands flying to tangle themselves in his hair. He grinned against your skin as he continued his ministrations, making you feel hot with need. You whimpered as his cock rubbed against you.

“Please, Eris,” you begged, not even sure what you wanted or needed. 

Eris sat up, his hands sliding to your waist. “Is my bunny ready for something more?” 

You nodded, eagerly, squirming under him. He hooked his fingers around your underwear. “Lift your hips for me, babygirl.” 

Your heart swooned at the new nickname. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned as he finally peeled off your final piece of clothing, baring you fully. “Gods, you are so beautiful.”

You felt…vulnerable as he drank in the sight of your bare body laid before him. Your toes curled at the predatory look in his eyes. Something about the dominance, the control he held over you in this moment made every rational thought leave your mind—his scent of crackling embers and cinnamon was intoxicating.

Eris leaned over you again to run his hands over every soft curve of your body. His hand drifted back between your legs, gently caressing your throbbing core. You whimpered, bucking up into his touch. 

Eris smirked against your lips. “Is my little bunny ready for me?” 

You swallowed harshly while nodding your head. 

He pressed a kiss to your neck before whispering, “I need your words, bunny.” 

“I’m ready, Eris,” you whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.” 

“I already told you that you’d never have to beg for me,” he murmured. He kissed his way down your neck, his body sliding down yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” You didn’t want to wait any longer, already going crazy with want. But he didn’t stop. 

“Relax,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.” 

He pressed a kiss to your stomach. 

“My little bunny,” he murmured against your skin. 

Another kiss to the spot between your hips. “My babygirl.” 

And then he was kneeling on the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You gasped, raising on your elbows to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee, tickling you, before he moved his way up your thigh, leaving love bites along your skin. 

“I need to taste you.” His voice was full of hunger, lust, as he left marks all along your thigh—sucking and biting the soft skin. 

You gasped as he ran his tongue up your slit, grasping the bedsheets in your fists. The books you read always made this act seem hot but feeling it was something else. Desire flooded you, leaving you panting for air. 

And then Eris was devouring you…devouring you like you were the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. You tossed your head back against the pillows, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Eris,” you mewled. “Gods.”

Eris’s own hand slipped down to rub himself through his pants at the sound of your cries. His other hand rose, replacing his mouth to rub circles on your clit.

“I’ve got to get you ready for me, bunny,” he whispered, his finger toying at your entrance making you squirm with need. You weren’t sure what he meant by that until a single finger slowly slipped inside of you. 

You moaned at the feeling, your back bowing off the bed. Eris slowly pulled his finger out before thrusting it back in you. You couldn’t help your hips from grinding down in rhythm with his thrusts. 

“That’s it, babygirl,” he praised. He gave you a few more thrusts before he slowly started to add another finger. You hissed at the feeling of being stretched, sucking your breath in. “Breath, bunny. You’re doing so good.”

Another thrust had you finally relaxing, the slight pressure replaced with hot pleasure. You moaned his name as Eris continued to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit again. He didn’t stop. Not even as your moans came out as pleas, as his name fell out of your lips over and over again while he pushed you over the edge, your vision going black with all the pleasure as you orgasmed. 

Still, he continued to devour you, causing you to writhe, overstimulated with pleasure. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling slightly as you cried but Eris merely growled, “I’m not done yet, bunny.” 

You weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. You ultimately decided it was indeed a blessing as he brought you to your second orgasm with his tongue and fingers far more quickly than your first. You were gasping for air as he made his way back up the length of your body, smiling with satisfaction at how unraveled he had made you. You couldn’t help but grab Eris’s face in your hands, marveling at his striking and cruel beauty. 

“You’re never escaping me now, bunny,” he growled, running his nose up the column of your neck and groaning at your scent. “Now that I’ve got a taste of you, I’m never letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” you murmured, your heart beating in your chest. 

“Good,” he answered, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. His hand was back between your legs, stroking your still sensitive core. You moaned into his kiss, your hips thrusting up against him. 

He grinded his hips down, rubbing his hard cock against you and you gasped, breaking the kiss. The unbridled hunger in his gaze had your heart racing as he stared down at you. “Do you still want this, bunny?”

“Yes,” you whispered, quickly. You were sure you’d go insane if he didn’t fuck you at this point. He sat back on his haunches and began to unlace his pants. His hard cock sprung free from its constraints and your eyes widened as you glanced down at it.

Eris tossed his pants somewhere behind him, chuckling as he noticed you observing him. By feeling alone you’d known his dick was big but seeing it now, you felt slightly intimidated. You sat up a bit and reached a hand out, lightly stroking him with curiosity.

Eris groaned, his hips twitching into your touch. He gently pulled your hand away, resting over you with one arm next to your head. “You can explore later. I need you. I can’t wait any longer.” 

You nodded, swallowing with anticipation. He stared directly into your eyes as he guided himself towards your entrance, pausing one last time to allow you the chance to stop. But you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him into a kiss instead. Eris kissed you, hungrily. His tongue parted your lips as he devoured you. He lined himself up before slowly starting to push into you. He wasn't even an inch in before he felt the resistance. He kept you locked in a kiss as he pushed farther in, stretching you out to the point of pain. 

You cringed slightly at the feeling, pulling away from his lips with a hiss. But the way Eris stared down at you with so much reverence and care comforted you. Still, you grimaced as the pain increased, as the stretching felt more like he was tearing you in half. 

You hissed again and Eris peppered kisses to your face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, unable to tell him to stop apologizing. He grunted as you dug your nails into his biceps while he continued to thrust in slowly. “Fuck, bunny, you’re taking me so well.” 

His praise caused your heart to flutter, making you relax more until he was seated all the way. He groaned, glancing down at where both of your bodies were now connected. Your grip on his biceps were still tight as the pain started to soothe into a warmth that began to spread throughout your body. 

“Breath for me, babygirl,” Eris whispered, kissing your jaw. You nodded, eyes squeezing shut. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in your breath. The exhale of air from your lungs made your body soften fully and soon the pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him inside of you. You moaned out his name, trying to let him know you were ready for more. 

“That’s it,” Eris groaned, feeling the tension leave. He slid out only a fraction before pushing back in—just enough to make you whimper. He brushed some of the damp hair from your forehead with a tenderness that had the bond in your chest aching. 

You were desperate for him to start moving and you realized he was waiting on some cue from you—some sign that you were ready for him. But talking felt impossible right now, your brain empty of all thoughts except a need for your mate. You lifted your hips, your breath catching with the movement. Eris grunted at the feeling of you around him. 

You breathed out his name again and that seemed to finally snap his restraint. Yet he was still gentle as he pulled all the way out of you before slowly thrusting back in. Your back arched at the new feeling. You finally released your grip on his biceps, stringing your arms around his neck instead. 

Eris began to move faster, deeper. One of his hands slid down your thigh, guiding you to hook it around his hips. The new angle caused him to hit a spot inside of you that had moans spilling from your lips. Eris kissed any part of you he had access to—your cheeks, your lips, your ears, your neck. His lips were hot, warming your skin as if you were standing next to an open flame. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.” 

His thrusts into you had you sliding against the silk sheets, had your breasts bouncing and your core throbbing around him with pleasure.

And he was watching you the whole time with a devotion that had you breathless. His whiskey amber eyes so focused on you and your pleasure, like it was all that mattered to him in this moment. His rhythm quickened, his strokes faster and faster as you spiraled underneath him—coming undone completely. 

It was overwhelming in the best possible way. Your bodies together as one. The feeling of the mating bond singing in your chest. The bliss of finally sharing yourself with someone you were falling in love with. Someone who held you like you were his entire world. Someone who saw all the unseen parts of you—the parts no one else had cared to look at. 

The culmination of everything had fire licking its way down your body, warmth spreading through your veins. Each thrust had a new wave of pleasure crashing into you. Each kiss had your heart beating to the tune of his. You were his in this moment—heart, mind, body and soul. And he was yours. Your fox. Your mate. Your Eris. 

Your vision went white as you toppled over the edge for a third time, screaming his name as you were consumed by his fire. Eris cursed as he rode out your orgasm, his pace growing sloppy as he lost himself in the feeling of you. He pounded into you, over and over again. You were mindless as you lightly grasped his cheeks, staring into his beautiful face—your body still in its state of bliss. 

“Mine,” he grunted. “You are mine.” 

“Yours,” you agreed. “And you belong to me.”

Those words had more of an effect on him than you could ever imagine. He groaned your name, his jaw tensing before he cried out and gave one final thrust inside of you that had the entire bed shaking. His forehead fell against yours as he climaxed, shuddering and panting for air. 

You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other for who knows how long. Just you and him. You and Eris. Nothing else mattered right now. Not his father or his court. Not your sisters or your mysterious powers. No conflict, no war, no pain. Nothing but the two of you and the eternal flame that connected your souls. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You should've known that the euphoria wouldn't last for long. The universe always had a way of making sure the highs were met with the lowest of lows. So when you returned to the Forest House with Eris the next day and were summoned immediately upon arrival to the throne room, you were not surprised. Still, a lead weight dropped in your stomach. Eris had staunchly tried to argue that you could remain within his chambers while he dealt with the matter but the guards had been adamant that the High lord had requested both of your presences. 

He held your hand tightly in his as you walked into the throne room together. Beron sat on his throne, Seraphina on her smaller chair to the side of him. Eris’s three brothers stood at the bottom of the dais—each of their faces unreadable. Reid’s face was covered in bruises and you winced, knowing it was your mate that was behind it. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to feel bad. Not after what he had done to you. 

Eris had glamoured your scents, not wanting to give his father any ammunition to use against you. The Gods knew how traditional the Autumn Court was. Beron would be displeased to know you had sex before your mating ceremony. Would likely use that as an excuse to do who knows what.

“Father,” Eris said, dipping his head in a faux show of respect. 

Beron glanced at his son before looking at you, expectantly. You dropped Eris’s hand and curtsied like you’d been taught. “High Lord.” It was enough to have him look away from you and back to his eldest son. 

“In the time you’ve been absent,” Beron started, holding his hands behind his back. “I’ve learned of a few…events that have transpired in this court. Namely the death of three of my best guards and the disfigurement of one of my sons.” 

Eris scoffed, straightening his cuffs. “Reid will heal.” 

You tensed, noting the anger in Beron’s eyes. 

“That may be so,” Beron replied. “But my guards will not.” 

“They deserved death for what they did,” Eris growled. “They attacked my mate.” 

“And by whose word is that?” Beron asked, his tone chilling. “Were there any witnesses of this alleged attack? Or did you simply take the word of a female over three trained, professional guards—guards who have protected you your entire life, son?” 

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Eris snarled, stepping forward. 

Beron merely tilted his head, staring down at his son. “Any other witnesses?”

“You don’t believe your own son?” Eris questioned, causing Beron’s eyes to narrow.

“Not when his actions seem far too…uncharacteristic,” Beron said. “You are not known to attack others, Eris. I expect far more restraint from my Heir. Now, answer my question. Are there any other witnesses?” 

Eris stood up straighter, unwilling to back down. You swallowed harshly, your eyes darting between Beron and your mate. “Her two handmaidens were witness as well.” 

Beron chuckled, mirthlessly. His dead eyes lacked any amusement. “Two lesser fae? As if they are known for speaking any truths. Please son, you humor me greatly.” 

“So you refuse to take me at my word,” Eris scowled. “Yet also refuse to hear from the two witnesses who saw the attack, as well. What is it you want?” 

Flames licked the shoulders of the High Lord, a show of his growing ire. “Watch your tone when talking to me, son. What I want is justice for the guards who have lost their life over something so…trivial.”

“Trivial?” Eris scoffed. “You think it’s trivial that they—”

Beron held up a hand, silencing his son. “I wasn’t finished. Do not interrupt me again or there will be far greater consequences.” 

Eris moved in front of you, blocking his father’s view. You were nearly shaking with dread, nausea swimming in your stomach. Where was Beron going with this?

“As I was saying,” Beron continued. “I seek justice for the guards who are now dead. Punishment for your mate’s lack of decorum that resulted in their actions which led to their deaths. For that, she shall receive ten lashes.” 

The room fell silent except for a small gasp that came from your lips. Ten lashes? Ten lashes all because his guards had attacked you? That was….that was insane! Your lip quivered. Eris glanced back at you for a second, his face pale before his expression hardened into rage. He turned back to his father, glaring.

“I am her mate,” Eris declared. “And according to Autumn law, allowed to take her punishment as mine.”

The fact that he wasn’t trying to argue with his father told you that it would probably be no use.  

“Is that what you want?” Beron looked pleased, as if he knew this would be the outcome to his sentencing. You felt ready to puke. How could a father be so eager to hurt his own son? Just how twisted was this male?

“Yes.” Eris’s voice didn’t waver or soften. 

“Eris,” you whispered in horror, stepping forward. You couldn’t let him do this—couldn’t let him get whipped on your behalf. Neither of you should be facing this punishment. It was both cruel and unjust. But if someone had to take it, it had to be you. 

Eris turned to look at you with a stern expression.

“Don’t speak,” he ordered, his voice so harsh you nearly flinched but you knew his anger was not directed at you. You knew he was just doing what he could to protect you. “Go to my chambers and stay there until either I or your handmaidens come to collect you.” 

“She is not going anywhere,” Beron spoke up. “You are allowed to take her punishment but she is ordered to stay and watch. She must understand what it means to be a part of this court. Must understand what her actions have caused.”

“Father,” Eris’s voice was slightly pleading for once but Beron held up his hand again.

“Another word and it will be fifteen lashes instead.” 

Eris’s shoulder fell and he quickly schooled himself, nodding. You took a sharp breath, your eyes welling with tears. You wanted to reach for him but two guards grabbed you by the upper arms and held you in place. You watched as Eris began to unbutton his shirt, tossing it to the ground before falling to his knees at the bottom of the dais. 

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

You were going to be sick. 

You choked in fear as Beron summoned a whip made of fire in his hands, coming to stand behind his son. You tried to break free from the guards’ hold but it was impossible. Tears slipped down your face.

“Don’t!” you cried out. “Please, don’t hurt him! I’ll take them. I’ll—”

“I said another word and it would be fifteen lashes instead of ten,” Beron growled, his cold eyes darting to you before they looked back down at his son. “Your mate just caused you another five lashes, Eris.” 

No. No. No.

Your eyes darted around the room, looking for someone who might put an end to this. Who might stop this. But it was Finn who caught your eyes and gave you a small shake of the head, his lips pressed in a fine line. You were heaving, horrified. You had made things so much worse already. So much worse. 

No one was coming to stop this. No one was coming to save Eris. No one ever had. 

You stood frozen as the first crack of the whip echoed through the big room, striking Eris’s back and ripping through his flesh. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the whip rose again, the flames dancing in a menacing way. Another strike had more tears blurring your vision. By the third strike, you had fallen to your knees, retching. 

You couldn’t even see Eris’s face, but you knew it was contorted in agony. You tried to send comfort down the mating bond, comfort and love and anything else, but it was met with a wall of flame that blocked you out. That only had more tears falling down your face. Even in his agonizing pain, Eris was still protecting you. 

Memories of last night flooded your mind. The joy, the elation, the love. The time spent together wrapped up in each other like nothing else mattered. The secrets the two of you had shared beneath the covers. How had you gone from that to this? 

Your heart shattered with each strike. Your soul was aching as you sat there, watching in horror as Eris’s blood began to pool on the tiled floor. You had caused this. This was all your fault. All Eris had done since the beginning was try to protect you. And this is how you had returned the favor. The worst part of it all was knowing he wouldn’t even blame you at all for this. Not even for the five extra lashes you had caused. 

By the seventh strike, your own pool of vomit lay around you. 

Eris didn’t even cry, barely moved at all. It was haunting and it made you realize that this was not the first time this had happened to him by a long shot. How many times had his father punished him like this in his lifetime? How many scars lingered underneath his skin—only hidden by the unnatural healing of the fae? By the fifteenth strike, you knew the answer to be far too many. 

The guards finally let you go once Beron had finished and left the throne room, taking his wife with him. You scrambled to your feet, darting towards Eris but Liam caught you by the arm with a grimace. “You won’t be able to carry him. Let us take him to his chambers.” 

You were forced to watch again as both Liam and Finn heaved Eris’s near unconscious form up between the two of them. You trailed behind them, tears soaking the collar of your dress. The walk to his chambers seemed to take an eternity. Eris groaned as they fumbled him through the door. 

“Get him to the bath,” Reid murmured, causing you to jump in shock. You hadn’t realized that even he had followed. 

You darted ahead of them, starting to fill the basin as they dragged your injured mate into the bathing chambers and slid him into the tub. Eris grunted in pain as the water splashed against his wounds, staining it red. You muffled your own cries with a hand. 

“Father won’t allow him to be seen by a healer,” Finn whispered to you. “Can you take care of him from here?” 

You nodded your head, speechless. 

“He has some cooling salve and bandages under the sink,” Finn said, nodding his head towards the sink. “Come find me if you need help.” 

The three brothers took their leave after that, leaving you alone with your mate. You pulled out all the supplies Finn had mentioned, falling to your knees next to the tub where Eris sat, his knees drawn to his chest and his head resting against them. 

“Eris,” you finally whispered, stroking his hair. “Eris, I am so, so sorry.” 

“S’not your fault,” he mumbled, tiredly. 

You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry and scream and rage. But it was more important to take care of him right now. So you slowly set to work, apologizing each time he flinched as you cleaned his wounds. Your heart ached as you helped him out of the bath once you were finished.

“Come on,” you murmured. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

You helped him strip off his wet pants and underwear before laying him down on the bed on his stomach. You pulled the sheets up to his waist, leaving his back untouched. You kneeled on the bed next to him, taking out the salve to start spreading it over the wounds. 

Eris let out a sigh as you started applying it and your heart cracked in your chest as he slowly drifted to sleep, his body finally giving out. You cried as you smeared the salve over the burns before bandaging them gently. Once you were done, your head dropped to his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried to his sleeping form. “I’m so sorry.” 

You don’t know how long you sat there, crying over him. But at some point, you finally sat up and wiped your face dry. Beron might’ve forbade any healer from helping Eris, but you had learned a thing or two from Elain about some plants that might help. Plants that the two of you used to mash into a paste and give to Feyre for all the blisters and calluses she would return home with when you were living in that small cottage. Plants that you knew you had seen during your ride in the forest with Eris. 

With that in mind, you gathered yourself before setting out to collect some, leaving Eris asleep on the bed for now. 

Luckily, you were able to sneak from the Forest House without anyone seeing you. You hid amongst the trees, plucking the plants and bundling them in your skirt. When you were confident that you had gathered enough, you started making your way back to the Forest House but you didn’t make it very far before you were interrupted. 

Shadows seemed to grow between the trees until a very familiar face stepped from them. You gasped in shock as Azriel materialized right before you, his hazel eyes staring directly at you. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, cooly, looking over your form like he was looking for any injuries before meeting your gaze again. 

“Az…Azriel? What are you doing here?”

“We’ve figured out a way to get you out of this mess,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Come, Feyre will explain to you once we’re home.” 

You mirrored his step backwards, eyes going wide. You didn’t want to go home…in fact, you knew in your heart that Velaris was no longer home to you. Home was…Home was Eris. You shook your head at him, trying to form the words to tell him you weren’t coming. 

“N-no,” you finally stuttered out. “I-I can’t go back. I don’t want—”

“Like I said—it will all be explained once we get back,” Azriel cut you off, moving quicker than you and grabbing your arm causing you to drop your skirt. All the plants you had gathered for Eris fell to the ground. “Let’s go.” 

And then you were engulfed in shadows, the Autumn Court disappearing from view. And all that was left in your place was a pile of healing plants for your injured mate—for Eris who would go on to wake up alone. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Tag list: @dwkfan @pinksmellslikelove @vellichor01 @whatdoyxumean @minnieoo @hnyclover @daughterofthemoons-stuff @ferrarisbitch @thaynarajejheje @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @the-sweet-psycho @sleepylunarwolf @homeslices @annblvd @historygeekqueen @crystalferret202 @meritxellao @st0rmyt @bruhhvv @venussdovess

@naturakaashi @waves-against-a-cliff @justvibbinghere @queerqueenlynn @isa1b2h3 @oucereeng @hnyclover @locotreofthegods @namelesssav @edance2000 @lalaluch @saltedcoffeescotch @jangmi-latte @frobrotbaggins @naturakaashi @isa1b2h3 @awkwardnerd @crazylokonugget @marvelouslovely-barnes @tinystarfishgalaxy @ilovespideyyy @mybestfriendmademe @holb32 @littlemisslovestoread

@regina-hawthorne @acourtofbatboydreams @artof-aristocracy @eyebagsanonymous @starrystarkey93 @darling006 @feyres-fireheart @fangirlloza010 @tarataraaaa @asweetblueberry2 @anuttellaa @daughterofthemoons-stuff @why4anne @bloodicka @wildlyobserving @allyjoe755 @neebeee @imxnotxhere @unleashthelion @mimsie95 @imperihoe-writes @joalslibrary @hnnybee0 @azrielsmate3

@azzydaddy @caraaaaugh @iamjimintrash @ren-ni @mysticalfuncollectorus @ubigaia @taylorgriffin @shelbieza03 @prettylittlewrites

@ysmtttty @hiddlestonspassionsackx @anxious-study @browneyedgirly93 @fandomarchiveilyd @aninnai @enfppuff @amberlynn98 @scooobies @lilah-asteria @96jnie @glitterypirateduck @i-m-in-loki-s-army

@hallucynatiing @st4r-girl-official @evergreenlark @somethingthatmightwork-blog @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@sunny1616 @nayaniasworld @selfishlittlebeing @ratgirl2020 @jovanaaaaaa7 @puttyly

*If you asked to be on the taglist and you don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :( Also my taglists are being super weird and idk how to fix it bc im dumb as hell soooo apologies if its not notifying you

[pseudowho]

Red

Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse User, is finally captured and sentenced to death after years on the run. The reader feels her grasp on morality quickly unravel, when her ex-boyfriend breaks down any inhibitions she thought she still had.

Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI, Bad!Nanami, really a reprehensible man, rough sex, bondage, forced orgasm, multiple sessions, coercion, dubcon, tw: gaslighting, tw: abuse, reader is obsessed and hopelessly in love, and Nanami Kento takes full advantage of that.

*I absolutely do not endorse a relationship like this, and I must insist that anyone who reads this sees it as the red flag it is...ANYWAY...*

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You felt sick to your stomach.

"They caught him. Did you hear?"

You stumbled through the rain, barely composed, your heart in your mouth. Anxious desperation clawed up your spine, on your way to get the fix that you had been withdrawing from for so long.

"Yeah, Gojo got him, obviously. No, no, he's alive, for now."

Mud spattered up the backs of your legs, tripping through puddles, passing under rain-hush willows, Torii gates, and so many graves filled by his hand. His hands that you knew. His hands that knew you, so intimately, a body and soul so untouched by anyone else ever since and ever again.

"Nanami Kento. The Nanami Kento...scheduled for execution. Finally."

You reached corridors, a caretaker shouting in indignation as you tracked mud all over his freshly polished floorboards. You gained speed, running, ready for his face his hands his smell his eyes his body his heart and yours that was always his forever his still his--

"You shouldn't go in there." Your hand retracted so briefly over the handle of the door to the execution chambers. Feeling cold drip down your spine, not knowing if it was rainwater, sweat, or Gojo's voice behind you, you shivered. You felt him approach. A long hand on your shoulder; protective, apologetic, grieving.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way. But you shouldn't go down there. He's...bad for you." You sniffed, straightening yourself, steeling against him. Gojo was so insignificant to you in this moment. "Are you keeping watch? Is there anyone else?" Gojo sighed, knowing better than to argue with you, feeling dread creep through him regardless. He leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. You heard your own heartbeat, amplified hummingbird's wings. You heard the rain, cleansing on the leaves, but weighing you down with your sin. You felt the thread on your finger, trapped beneath that door and running down the stairs.

"No. No, it's just me. I...understand. Whatever you want to do, I...I understand." You felt the ghosts in this corridor. You felt the footsteps long since gone. You felt the shadows of the other half of Gojo's soul. Ah, yes, you thought, raindrops running down your cheeks, you would understand, of course.

"There will be a gap in the guard. At midnight. Just five minutes. Ten, if you're lucky." Gojo turned, facing down the corridor. You could smell the regret. The weight of his own failures haunted him. He sensed your fingers grip the handle, squeezing down, taking your life into your own hands.

He would give you this, what he had prevented you from taking five years ago. He would not see another whole broken into halves. He would not regret, for a moment now or for years to come. Behind him, your other hand, cold and damp, reached out and squeezed Gojo's. He felt the farewell upon your skin. "Thank you, Satoru. I love you." "I love you, too. Be good." You wracked with need, trembling down those spiraled steps. They took you so deeply underground, that you could feel the earthen chill of ages past upon your skin, and you welcomed the death and rebirth, shedding the life you had left at the surface.

You knew Nanami Kento would, inevitably, be your downfall. And yet...you had shared a room with death so many times, now, that you would not fear him reaching for your hand. You paused near the bottom of the stairs, soaked in the soft orange glow of ten thousand illuminated paper charms. You felt him. He beat you to it. "I can smell you." Your knees almost buckled; that voice. It ran through you, spitting hot oil in cold blood. You flurried down the rest of the steps with numb feet, rounding the corner. The breath rushed out of you, into him, and he smiled at you, so much wider than he used to, all canines and white.

Nanami Kento was bound to a small chair, barely enough to hold the sheer width of him. In this short (long too long so long) five years, he had grown from a man, to a beast, his shoulders hulking and mountainous, scars littered across his forearms and collarbones.

His white shirt was bloodstained-- mostly someone else's, you assumed, but some from Kento himself. Kento was scuffed, bruised, red at the corner of his lip. His parting remained, disheveled from his capture. His harness, the brown leather soft and aged, strained against his chest and shoulders. His blunt blade rested, leant against the wall in a dingy corner of the room.

The only thing holding back what you knew would be Kento's enormous, overwhelming power, were the ropes that restrained him. You fingered at the blade of the Cursed tool in your pocket. He was...ethereally beautiful. You felt the last vestiges of yourself pass to him, blissfully unaware he would take so much more from you yet. His smile grew, eyes full of searingly cold ice, sneering at you as tears built in your eyes.

"You're crying for me?" He cooed, soft and mocking, "Why is that? You made your choice, all those years ago." "You were the one who left." "You were the one who stayed," he growled, lurching forwards against his bonds, chest heaving and straining, snarling. Expecting you to step backwards, instead, he felt the sick satisfaction of you stepping closer instead-- drawn in by his gravity. "You didn't give me a choice, Kento," you begged, shameless, "You didn't come for me. I couldn't find you." Kento huffed, scoffing, twisting against his restraints. "Fuck off," he scorned, spitting a wad of blood to the floor, "I came for you. The night I found you in Gojo's bed, of all people." You frowned, remembering the night Kento snapped and executed two dozen colleagues in his offices, years after leaving Jujutsu High. Remembering the news reaching you third-hand, through whispers in the corridors, as you had headed to Jujutsu High to see if anyone had heard from him. Remembering Gojo's grim confirmation, how you had collapsed in his arms, carved in two. Remembering how he had taken you home with him, tucked you into his bed, where you slept fitfully, alcohol-soaked to numb the nightmares. Your stomach filled with ice water. "You were-- you were there?" You choked, tears spilling over, "At Gojo's? You were there?" "Tell me," Kento commanded, his lip curled, "how many hours it was, after you heard? How many hours before you let Gojo Satoru fuck you like some desperate little whore? How many hours it was before I found you in his bed." You shook your head, brutally injured by his venom, punctuating him with sobs and denial as his voice rose.

"Three? Four? So devastated, it took another man fucking his seed into you before you could get over the loss of your lover? And you have the fucking audacity to come in here and cry over me?" Kento strained forwards, teeth bared as he sniffed deeply, breathing out with a satisfied smirk, a laugh, deep and smoky. "Can't smell him on you now, though," he mocked, filthy and merciless, "I thought he liked pathetic little scraps like you, but I suppose one fuck was enough to tell him you belonged to someone else, just as much as he did."

Kento already knew, of course, that Satoru would not have taken you even once. Kento felt his cock swelling against his thigh with your anguished begging. "Is that what he told you? To make you leave?" Your head swam with the revelation that Kento had come back for you, the rage that Satoru had lied and sent Kento away. You shook your head, dropping to your knees before him; desperate for his approval, full of dreadful fear of rejection.

"Nobody else," you pressed, crawling forwards and squeezing his thighs with cold little hands as he scoffed again, looking away, "ever. Kento. Ever, ever, for years. There won't ever be--" Kento suppressed his smirk, reeling you in after you bit so willingly. He leaned down to you, his cock twitching at the memory of the last time you knelt between his legs, looking up at him with wide wet eyes. He allowed his breath to ghost over your neck, seeing your skin prickle. He softened his face, nectar and promise in his eyes. "...you and Gojo...you didn't...?" His voice was soft, gentle, hopeful. Your head shot up, fingers digging deeper into his thighs as your eyes brimmed over again, thrilled by his belief, his trust in you. His lips were so close to yours, that you felt his hot ashen breath upon your tongue, dragon's fire, those whiskey-soaked eyes flicking across your face. God, if I'd known it would be this easy, Kento thought, maliciously possessive, I'd have let you find me years ago. His cock twitched at the feel of your hands clawing his thighs. He imagined fucking you down into the bed while you clawed at him, struggling, gasping and crying.

"Never," you promised, chasing his face with yours, while Kento withdrew just enough to maintain a teasing closeness, "he lied. He lied to you." Kento's cock twitched again, thirsty for your desperation.

Kento smiled again, that beautiful, cloud-parting smile, and you preened into him. He hummed, leaning forwards so briefly to brush his nose against yours. Your breath left you in a shudder as his voice passed over your lips;

"That's good...good girl. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else's hands on my beautiful girlfriend."

You sunk into his sudden warmth, your hands stroking up his thighs, his hips, up his ribs and shoulders. He allowed you to embrace him like this, for just a moment. Prickling with fear, you felt the frost form over him once more. Kento sneered again.

"...she's gone though, I think. Rotting here, festering with the dregs of Jujutsu Society. Willing to live and die a pawn. Scum. Less than scum."

Kento sighed, withdrawing from you fully, his back against the chair, turning his head as you tried to cup his jaw in your hands. He shook you off, face twisted with disgust. He was thrilled to watch a part of you shrivel and recoil, before reaching out harder, begging in fractured whispers, clawing for dry land.

"You had your chance. You're too wet for my life. You couldn't do what I do, live how I live. You couldn't lie, cheat, extort, torture, murder. You're too soft." Kento's lip curled in disgust as you pressed yourself between his legs, begging, beseeching, "To think of all the cum I wasted by fucking it into you." He hoped you couldn't feel him, hard and throbbing against your belly.

"--anything you want-- I'll do anything you want-- please--"

"Please what?" Kento shot, shaking the ropes around him with thick, scarred arms, "I'll be dead before dawn. And I want some peace and quiet. You're nothing to me now."

A part of you died, shattered by his rejection. Clapping a hand over your mouth, your shivers threatening vomit, you sat back on the floor, pressing your face into your knees, sobbing and abandoned for a second time.

"It's a shame," Kento scorned, tutting, "we were beautiful, once. But I'd rather die than have you be my only fucking option."

Kento felt you break, and it was delicious.

You shook within, panicking at his imminent second abandonment...but you were more determined than ever to prove yourself to him. You would sell your soul. You would sell the lives of your fellow sorcerers. You would sell your dignity, your self-respect, your whole being. Having Kento in any form, even this cold-hearted killer, was better than the agony of his death, where you would surely die with him.

From your pocket, hands shaking, you withdrew a blade; a special grade cursed weapon, stolen, illicit. You reached around Kento, breathing deeply of the sweat, sandalwood and copper tang on his skin. You pressed the blade into the hands bound behind his chair. You turned, hesitated...and walked away.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You could not bear to return to your apartment. You had staggered past Gojo, reeling from Kento's biting rebuttal. You had wiled away the evening in some backwater ditch of a bar, sinking into spirits and self-loathing.

You waited to be found...by him, or by your colleagues, for execution as an accomplice to his escape. You didn't care anymore. You would die at his hands, or theirs, and cling onto that final shivering bliss of his bound body against yours. Even as a good man, he had always possessed you, more than you possessed yourself.

Walking to your door just after midnight, fumbling with the keys, you let yourself in, to spend a final night alone before your inevitable execution.

The alcohol numbed your senses, the darkness close around you. You did not feel his approach, this killer in the shadows.

All at once, you felt an enormous hand clasp over your mouth, and another pinning your wrists behind your back, tugging you backwards against a body, such an immovable chilly presence. A whisper, a tongue grazing against the side of your throat.

"I want you screaming...but not yet." You arched back into Kento's body, seeking a warmth he didn't have any more. The man you knew was long-since dead.

You felt his hand loosen, drifting slowly from your mouth, to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to make your breath hitch, examining the length of your throat from the outside with a hum. You smelled the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.

"I'm so proud of you," Kento purred, stepping you slowly through your apartment, pushing you towards your bedroom, "such a good girl...I knew you'd pass the test." Your heart swelled with his praise, but a lingering doubt soured the edges of your tongue.

"--how did you-- s'too early, Kento-- the guard--"

"Guard?" Kento laughed, booming with genuine mirth, "Some scrap of a boy in a beanie? Please. They'll find what's left of him in the morning."

"Oh--Ino--" you felt tears prickle on your lash line, your breath leaving you with a gasp as Kento tossed you face down on your bed. You tried to turn back to look at him, but felt his hand grip the back of your neck, shoving you roughly into the sheets. You shivered, fingers clenching as you heard the telltale clink of his belt undoing, the soft shhhk-shhhk-shhhk of Kento unthreading it from his waist.

"Oh, Ino!" Kento mocked, "Shut the fuck up, before I make you shut up," his voice pitched and ruthless. His face twisted as you trembled, noting smears of blood left by his hands on your wrists. You smelled the copper tang over his sweat and stale cologne. You knew you would never reject him, already wet with the promise of him coming back for you.

Kento softened momentarily, knowing he would struggle to fit inside you if you were scared and trembling. The faintest ghost of him wanted to pull you into his arms. The ice over his old soul knew he'd break if it cracked.

Kento crawled over you, his black trousers unzipped, cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. He clasped your hands, binding them with his tie to the head of the bed. You were so ready for him to take back what was his, that you didn't hear his next words, rumbling and gravelly on the back of your neck.".

"Keep still, and do as you're told. I'm sure you remember the old safe word...if I care to listen."

You felt your skirt forced up to bunch around your waist, heard a fabric rrriiip of your tights and underwear being shredded away from your core. Kento breathed heavily as he knelt above you, hooking his cock and heavy balls out, stroking himself with one thick hand as his fingers jabbed between your legs, sinking between your folds with little to no regard for your pleasure.

You jolted, squeaking against the sudden intrusion. Kento letting out another rich, smoky laugh as he sunk two thick fingers into your entrance.

"...ahhh, lovely. Can you warm my fingers up for me?" Kento laughed again, drawing out into a stilted growl as he jerked his cock eagerly to your tight wet walls around his digits. You panted into the sheets, Kento releasing his cock you squeeze your arse as he fucked you with his fingers, leaving bruising fingerprints before slapping the skin harshly, groaning as your fat jiggled, flushing with the abuse.

"-- better than some common whore...shit. Such a good girl...getting me out of there. Maybe I'll keep you around...just to fuck, my sweet little cocksleeve. Or are you better than that?"

"--anything, I'll be anything you want-- Kento-- please please take me with you please--" Pleasure burned in your belly as you heard the wet slaps of his hand, masturbating himself again to the sight of his fingers moulding you to the shape of him.

You filled with a burning need to be what he wanted you to be, so exhausted by life, so bitter and ready for someone else to take control. Kento did so, gladly, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointed groan. He slapped your backside again in punishment, once, twice, three times until you learned your lesson, biting your lip against your cries.

"You'll come on my cock, or not at all," he snapped at you, impatient, with his pre-cum dripping down your folds as his cock grazed at the entrance to your prone, bound body. He rammed his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick him clean, low voice husky with need at the feeling of your tongue swiping over him.

Pressing one hand down on the back of your neck, before raising it to yank sharply on your hair, Kento fucked into you without warning, pressing hard, to bottom out immediately. Your scream was choked, your neck hyperextended back at the insistent pull of your hair. Your body ached and strained against his use of you, and you revelled in it, in too deep to care about how wrong it was. You stung with the size of him, always big, and so much bigger without preparation.

"--haaaah fuck-- good girl...fuck you through it-- fuck you through it-- scream all you like-- been waiting for this for so long--" Kento crushed your body flush under his, so heavy that he forced the air out of you, making you lightheaded against the raw pleasure of his cock pounding into you without mercy, simply chasing his own orgasm.

Kento's skin electrified with the sinful joy of stealing pleasure from you, ripping his shirt and harness off over his head with a fractured growl. He gripped your bound hands, slipping a hand under you to squeeze your throat, his hips slapping into you with agonising bliss. He cursed and spat against the pleasure, demeaning you and praising you in equal measure.

Breathing hard and fast, Kento saw a bead of his sweat fall to the back of your neck, and leaned down to bite you there, hard, mounting you like an animal as he fucked you harder, faster. Your clit throbbed, untouched, but you lost yourself in the deep primal ecstasy coiling in your belly. You felt the telltale twitches of his thighs and abs against your legs and back, knowing from his frantic jagged moans that Kento was about to cum, before remembering--

"Ken--Kento--oooh--ooh, Ken," you cried, whimpering as his cock bullied against your cervix, "...'m not-- not on-- pull out Ken--"

Kento jerked and groaned, grinning that wide sharp-canined grin again, his laugh leaving him in ragged breaths as his balls drew up close, ready to spill; "--fuck...pull-out? Not a--haaah-- fucking chance, without the safe word, sweetheart." Kento fucked you faster, challenging you as your cock-addled brain clasped at straws, trying desperately to remember, fuck what was it--

Kento gasped, his orgasm starting to wash over him, "Too late," he jeered, and came with a broken hushed roar, rutting his cock inside you so his seed would spurt, coating you, thick and sticky, all over your deepest walls. Kento didn't give a shit that you hadn't come-- and neither did you, trembling and mewling as his length jerked thick heavy ropes inside you.

As Kento pulled out, breathing hard, pumping his length a few more times to spill his last drops of seed across your back, he huffed out a humourless laugh, running his hand back through his hair; "'Pull out'...you'll take what I give you, and be grateful." Kento scooped up some seed, dripping from your cunt, shoving it roughly back inside you.

"What fucking use are you," he spat, ramming his fingers in you until you sobbed, squirming around him, "if you can't even keep my cum inside you? Pathetic." Your breath hitched, tears spilling over at his brutal mockery. Seeing your tears, hearing the lump in your throat, Kento cooed at you, clasping your jaw in one thick hand.

"Oh darling...don't be sad...just be better." He slapped at your cheek a few times, too stinging to be tender, pressing a hot wet kiss just beneath your eye. He stood up, stretching, padding over towards the door.

"I need a drink." Kento mused aloud. You pulled yourself up the bed, still tightly bound, clamping your legs together to keep his cum inside and win his approval. You almost wept with the bitter ache in your shoulders and arms, how your pussy stung, how worthless he thought you were. You heard the clink of bottles and glass in the kitchen.

Kento returned, sitting in the chair at the end of your bed, naked, legs crossed, as he poured himself a full glass of whiskey. You could not see him, your face pressed into the pillow. You couldn't see the cold, impassive gaze upon your bound, shivering form. You couldn't see the way he idly played with his cock, slowly stroking life back into it as his cum glistened on your folds.

"Let's play a game," Kento proposed finally, as sleep began to creep across you, "and if you win, I'll take you with me. If you lose, I'll leave you here for the dogs." Kento took a long drink, draining his glass with a satisfied hum, his cock now half-erect against his thigh.

Your determination peaked again, so certain you could make things right, and make Kento love you like he used to. You were a void, yearning to be filled.

"Yes, I-- I can do it-- anything," you pressed, voice strong and bold now, eager to shed the shell he had left you in. Kento refilled his glass, almost to the brim, grinning wolfishly. He reached into your bedside drawer, tipping his head and raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk, withdrawing a vibrator, and a dildo.

"So confident," Kento teased, a shadow of the way he used to play with you when he was softer, more restrained. He couldn't deny the flicker of joy he had felt at the old you, briefly rearing her head.

Kento emptied his hands for long enough to flip you to your back, binding your arms to the bed again, ripping your shirt and bra open at the middle, exposing your breasts and belly. Kento grabbed your nipple roughly, yanking it until you squealed, slapping it hard with a gravelly chuckle.

"Don't spill my drink." Kento ordered, picking his glass up, placing it on your chest, between your breasts. You faltered, stock still, staring up at him, uncertain.

"...I-- what?" Kento's slim brown eyes burned down at you, teasing the dildo against your sloppy cunt, before ramming it into you. You instinctively moved to squirm away with a cry, understanding almost a moment too late, the meniscus of the whiskey kissing the lip of the glass. You stilled completely, shuddering at the cold rubber filling your cunt to the belly, squelching with Kento's cum.

Kento hissed between his teeth, face twisted with nasty glee. He looked so animated, so alive with this hedonistic torture, such a far cry from who he once was.

"Close," he taunted, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, pulling away as you moved to kiss him, satisfied to hear you swear under your breath as he denied you. Kento flipped the wand vibrator in his hand deftly, switching it on and clicking to max out the vibration.

"Don't...spill my drink." Kento repeated slowly, pressing the brutally vibrating wand directly against your clit.

You saw stars, your body moving to convulse reflexively, and you gritted your teeth, eyes fixed on the wobbling glass on your sternum. Your legs shook, the pleasure too harsh to be enjoyable, feeling yourself being unwillingly dragged towards a bone-wracking orgasm.

"Kento please-- please stop please please-- I can't do it I can't keep still I can't--" You babbled at Kento, tears streaming, certain he may not acknowledge your safe word even if you did squeeze it out. Only your desperation to win him back stopped you from even trying.

"Then die here." Kento shrugged, stroking himself again as he pressed the wand harder against your clit, thrilled to hear you scream in anguish. Your orgasm hit you with stunning force, harsh wracks of pleasure pounding through you as your body remained rigid. Still, the whiskey did not spill.

Your teeth gritted around your cries, and you met Kento's eyes with a ferocity that used to make him hard in seconds. His cock twitched in his hand in memory, pre-cum dripping down to wet his fingers. Baring his teeth in a snarl now, Kento knelt between your legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking it into you with harsh strokes, pressing harder with the punishing vibrations of the wand.

Your body was on fire, every part of you burning, from bruised bound wrists, to your feet, crackling with electric overstimulation. You cursed, spitting out tearful bile at Kento.

"--Kento-- stop it-- you fucking monster-- I hate you-- you fucking left me and I hate you so just stop it--"

Kento grinned, growling out as he continued his messy overstimulation of you; "There! There she is! That's my girl...make me proud!...shit, you're a mess. Don't spill it now." As another orgasm hit you, a primal hideous landslide, you screamed with your head thrown back, woefully unable to dissipate the pleasure through movement.

Suddenly full of unbridled rage, the years of grief and abandonment pouring out of you, you snapped, certain you wanted to hurt him as he had hurt you.

The glinting madness in Kento's eyes, the way his hand worked his rigid cock harder as he released his grasp on the dildo, now ramming it back into you with his knee...he wanted this. He wanted you pouring with spite. With rage. He wanted the venom and the hatred. He wanted the raw unbridled loyalty that you promised him through this humid obsession.

"--let me go-- KENTO. I'm warning you--"

Kento laughed, rich and earthy, as he gripped you by the throat, pinning you to the bed. Your body was exhausted, groaning, all bone-deep and guttural aches. By the time your third orgasm hit, you were floppy, the whiskey glass tilting on you just too sharply--

--before being snatched up by Kento, who drained it in one thirsty gulp. Pulling the sex toys out of you and tossing them aside, Kento moved to line his cock up with your entrance. Full of tearful anger, you kicked, hard, fighting back against him as he laughed, encouraging you-- "Fight me-- come on girl, COME ON--"

Kicking out again, spitting acid at Kento, berating him for leaving you, berating him for the twisted hatred you had endured alone for the miserable job you did, you cried, all bitter spite and loneliness. Kento caught your legs, forcing them open, pressing himself between them. He jabbed his cock between your folds as you squirmed, struggling up the bed, until Kento folded over you, grasping you by the back of the neck, and pulling you up for a searing kiss-- the first time you had tasted him in years.

Kento took advantage of your gasp, and invaded you with his tongue and cock, fucking sloppily between your legs, cursing into your mouth, until he met your entrance, slamming himself in to the hilt. Kento gripped you by the hips, thrusting into you while he slammed your pussy against him. He immediately set a feral pace, intent on claiming the last scraps of you, if he couldn't get you out of Jujutsu society alive. "--not gonna-- haaah-- let you die here-- fuck, good girl, good fucking girl, take it-- FIGHT ME--"

Every time you tried to buck and kick, and throw him out of you, Kento cupped your jaw, kissing you just like he used to, disarming you as you bit into his forearm planted beside your cheek. Kento kept up his punishing pace, reaching up to release the belt as he groaned into your throat, biting the delicate skin there. The briefest flicker of warmth passed over him, to feel your hands clutch at his chest, still trying weakly to push him off you. Kento reveled in your fight, your incessant struggling beneath him making his need to cum, to fill you again and make you his, urgent. You felt this in him, in his trembling arms and sloppy thrusts, all at once splitting you in two and completing you. Relenting, you allowed him to claim your mouth again, lips smooth and supple against yours, whiskey on his breath. Kento couldn't last any longer, and didn't want to; he finished with a broken rumble, all groans and whispered curses in your hair. Crushing you to the bed beneath his hulking body, you whimpered to feel his cock twitch and bound inside you, filling you again with sweet ache and seed. Kento rested on you, ignoring your gasping little breaths as you saw stars, buried beneath him. Swallowing away the lump in your throat, your mind swam with your fates; killed in battle or executed or on the run or hiding with filthy curse users or begging the higher-ups for mercy but all alone every one of them alone-- "...come with me." You blinked. Kento's back still heaved with exertion, his face buried in your neck. You felt a twinge, a prickle down your spine-- Cursed energy, approaching from a distance. "You have to decide...there's no time. I lie. I steal, and extort. I blackmail. I murder. I live in...in absolute luxury. You will never want for anything, while you're with me-- but you must be with me." You smiled. Another door had opened. Kento was the easiest decision you ever made.

[losing-it-lately]

Would you consider a Remus Lupin x reader where reader is an animagi probably like a smaller animal maybe like a cat or something and Remus has them falling asleep on him and not realizing it’s reader until he’s openly talking about his feelings toward them and the reader in animagi form is like 👀👀👀

Remus Lupin with an Animagi!reader

wc: 0.7k

remus lupin x reader fluff

not exactly as per the request, but i hope you enjoy it :)

Soft and warm and happy. You were everything that Remus Lupin felt like he didn't get in his life. And even when he didn't know it, you still brought an unfiltered joy into his life.

The Gryffindor common room had seen some recent changes, the biggest one being Remus’ new companion, a scrappy, furry little thing that hung on his shoulder or in his sweater. Cats had always been allowed in Gryffindor, but a small kitten was a new update.

He had found you lingering around the whomping willow; playing and dancing around the tree’s various attacks. With your soft wispy fur and your long whiskers, immediately he was enthralled. Not to mention, he had needed something to keep him going after his transformation the night before.

So you two became a pair, a loved pair. Little first years would surround Remus asking to pet you and James and Sirius would use you for pranks and Remus would let you sleep in his bed. He really loved you, even when you were gone, he would patiently wait.

But what he didn't know was that you were never actually gone.

You were intelligent, for sure. And you were loud, and fun, and crass, and all the things that made people laugh loudly and smile unabashedly. Remus saw something bright and spunky in you and the way you’d light the people around you. And whilst your otherwise silly jokes made people assume the least, your unrestrained time in the library and constant practice and yearning for your curiosity to be satisfied resulted in an early animagi status.

Though intensely illegal to practice that kind of magic underage and without recognition from the ministry, becoming an animagi fulfilled a part of yourself that otherwise you wouldn't have ever felt complete without. When you first transformed into that small tabby, the world around you went silent. You felt different and the same, you were content.

So you continued, spending time in your new form doing whatever random tasks you wanted to do. And eventually, you picked up a companion who unbeknownst to you, knew both sides of the coin.

Remus had started taking you into account on the sorting ceremony of that year. You had accidentally turned up late and took the first empty seat you saw, the one next to him. The both of you had never spoken one on one until that moment, and he swears that he didn't know what a proper laugh felt like until you uttered that first joke; even better, he didn't know what an angel sounded like until he heard your laugh.

Then, he would see you in the library, in his potions class, in the gryffindor common room, it was like you were everywhere, until you weren't.

He stopped seeing you as often and assumed that maybe, maybe he wasn't as down bad as he had been before, maybe he was getting over you. And then you sat next to him in potions and all of his feelings came tumbling back.

Remus rushed to his dorm room with his face blushing all different colours and his fingers picking at his scars. He was spiraling and didn't know what he could do, until he saw her: his little tabby rolling on his bed, waiting patiently.

He scooped her up, letting her eyes match his at eye level, and started confiding.

“I don't know what to do,” he stuttered, his hands engulfing her arms. “I need her so badly, she's perfect for me.”

You were confused to say the least, purring and distracting him from whatever ailed him. It was unbecoming, watching Remus ramble about his dream girl, until he mentioned your name. Your eyes widened, and you jumped out of his hands. Sometimes being smart isn't enough and in this case, you had no idea what to do. You scampered back out of his line of vision and into your room, transforming back and realising you had to do something, you had to make a move.

All week, Remus waited for his tabby to come back, and come Hogsmeade, he went out to buy her some treats. Mid his store run, you found him, looking between aisles for various different snacks.

“I want to talk to you,” you smiled and he felt his world turn a little faster.

Remus abandoned the snacks and you led him outside, to a bench. He felt something shift inside him as you stared into his eyes.

“I really like you,” he burst out, his normal composure almost disappearing now that he was this close to you. You softly laughed and he felt his heartbeat quicken.

“We should go and share a butterbeer.”

[sansaorgana]

— CHRYSALIS

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Vala/half-Elf!Reader (Morgoth's Daughter)

SUMMARY — She is no Vala, no Maia and no Elf. Whatever she is remains the most exceptional and undeniably powerful. Morgoth's daughter can either heal Middle-earth or destroy it. Mairon makes a promise to her mother – the one he had once kidnapped for his master – that he would take care of this extraordinary creature but it is no easy task.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It is a bit of a crazy idea, gotta admit, and I probably fucked with canon waaaay too much but bear with me, please! 🤣 I came up with this idea after reading on the Wiki that Morgoth was bound to his physical form, so I assumed he could actually have a child? 🤔 Anyway, in the beginning of this story you get the backstory of Reader's mother and Morgoth. Reader's mother was given a name (Tasarë, which is supposed to mean willow) but her physical appearance is not described (nor is Reader's). That backstory of Tasarë and Morgoth was my idea for another Sauron x Reader fanfic but I couldn't figure out how they could possibly end up together after she develops Stockholm's Syndrome for Morgoth, so I just used the idea in this fic as a backstory of Reader's mother. I also chose this title for the fic because butterflies appear quite a lot in this fanfic and I think the Reader is a bit like a chrysalis as well – nobody knows what will become of her.

WARNINGS — kidnapping, forced marriage, Stockholm's Syndrome (Reader's mother), abusive relationships (Reader's mother with Morgoth AND Reader with Sauron), manipulation, First Age Sauron being his loser self but still trying to get his way as usual, the Reader being half light/half darkness, which results in her acting unhinged at times (she mostly speaks in a dramatic manner lmao)

WORD COUNT — 6,400

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

CHRYSALIS

Tasarë was her name – young Elven girl Mairon saw through the trees in his wolf form. His yellow eyes of the beast were following the way she danced around the fire with her friends, her long hair waving in the wind and her laughter travelling through the cold air of the night.

Perhaps none of this story would happen if she hadn’t looked back, sensing his presence. He could sense from afar the shiver that went down her spine after spotting him and their eyes met – hers filling with fear after realising she had been observed by a werewolf.

Startled by her sensing his presence, Mairon ran away from there to meet with his master who impatiently awaited his report. As usual, Melkor wanted to make sure Mairon was not lying about anything, therefore he allowed himself to sneak into his servant’s mind. And amongst his memories of the battles and schemes, he found the one about the young Elven maiden Tasarë and Mairon’s fascination with her.

“You will bring her to me,” Melkor ordered. “And she will be untouched and unspoiled when she arrives here.”

Mairon nodded. He could not refuse, could he? And he could never defile what belonged to his master, so he obeyed the order completely.

He kidnapped Tasarë away from her village and her pure heart treated him with nothing but kindness throughout their whole journey. She begged him often to let her go and if it depended on him only – he would. He would, in a heartbeat.

Or perhaps he would not. Perhaps he would keep her for himself.

But he knew that he was taking her to her demise. What would Melkor do to her? Each time she smiled at Mairon while bathing in the moonlight, radiating pure beauty and light, he wondered about the pain that awaited her and his heart ached for her.

“When we arrive there, what will happen to me?” She asked once as if she had already accepted the fact she was kidnapped but the details had been kept from her until now.

“You will become a bride,” Mairon informed her and a hint of smile showed on her face, which surprised him.

“Yours?” She inquired. Perhaps such a thought was not as dreadful to her as he would expect – after all the weeks they had spent together, he became the devil she knew, after all.

“My master’s,” Mairon answered and her smile disappeared as her body froze.

“Your master?” Tasarë raised an eyebrow.

“I cannot tell you his name,” Mairon shook his head and she looked up at the night sky with tears filling her eyes.

“Do not then. I believe I know already,” she whispered.

When Mairon brought her to Melkor’s fortress, it was the last time he saw her. The Dark Lord sent him away right after as if he was afraid of the bond forged between Tasarë and his servant.

And when Mairon was back from his mission, Tasarë was not in the fortress anymore. From Melkor’s other servants, Mairon found out that his master sent her away to one of the most secluded castles up in the coldest and loneliest realms of the North. Where she was hidden from everyone and everything and where Melkor could visit her whenever he wanted to. His little bride no one else could even lay their eyes on.

“How can she endure that?” Mairon whispered but the answer he received was even sadder than whatever he had been expecting instead.

“She grew to love him. She had no other choice.”

Many long years had passed since that time and Mairon never expected to see Tasarë again but Melkor sent him – his most loyal servant – to his most secluded and hidden fortress to carry a very important message to his lover. Mairon was supposed to be a messenger and he tried his best not to show his enthusiasm too much because it could worry and alarm his master.

It was not pure joy or excitement, however, no. It was also a curiosity with a bit of anxiety at the thought of what could be left of Tasarë after all the centuries of being Melkor’s bride.

The journey was long and boring – there was nothing around but vast land of white snow and dried out trees. The place where she was being kept was the most secluded and the loneliest he could imagine. He wondered if it was still in the same dimension because the longer he travelled, the more he felt as if he was crossing a bridge from one world to another.

He spotted the castle first – enormous and black with tall towers shaped as if they were spikes. It contrasted with the white land of endless snow although the weather was dark and gloomy. Days were short here if they existed at all.

As he travelled through the snow, nearly effortlessly due to the fact he was a Maia, therefore the cold was not his enemy, he spotted something that made him furrow his brows – footsteps on the snow.

They belonged to a person – a female, he assumed, judging by the size. Was it possible that Tasarë was not as obedient to Melkor as her lover had been suspecting? After all, she was not supposed to ever leave the castle’s walls.

Mairon followed the traces with his heart pounding in his chest, awaiting to see her again but then he froze at the sight of a young woman sitting on the snow nearby one of the castle’s back doors, under a leafless tree with ice-decorated branches.

The young woman was certainly not Tasarë although she resembled her a little. Her ears were pointed but Mairon could feel even from afar that she was no ordinary Elf. She was a creature much more powerful and when he squinted his eyes, he noticed that flowers were growing under her hands and butterflies were flying around her as she laughed. She could not only bend the world to her liking but she could also create new life. She was no goddess, though, of that he was sure.

She was no Elf, no Maia, no Vala. What was she, he wondered…?

When she turned around for a moment while looking at the butterflies, his heart froze in his chest. Her face was… terrifying.

It was undeniably beautiful but gruesome at the same time. Whoever would stare at her for too long, could risk being turned into a stone. There was only one as godly beautiful as scary to the point of no one being able to look at his face for too long and Melkor was his name.

“Who are you? Why are you hiding there?” The young woman asked as a butterfly sat on her hand and she batted her snow-covered eyelashes while looking in the direction of Mairon who was hiding behind a huge rock covered with ice.

“I… Forgive me,” he cleared his throat and stepped out, bowing his head slightly and she chuckled.

“Your hair resembles fire,” she pointed out. “Are you here to burn me?”

“I don't even know who you are,” Mairon confessed. “I am here for Lady Tasarë,” he explained and the girl pouted.

“Sad,” she shrugged her arms. “I hoped that finally some adventure would happen to me. Do you know I have been living in this castle ever since I was born? A whole century!” She whined. She was an adult already but still very young and considering the fact she did not know the real world, it was understandable that she was still like a child in many ways. “Is there anything else except for the snow?”

“There is,” Mairon assured her and crouched down next to her as he pointed at the butterfly on her hand. “You create such things. Flowers, butterflies…”

“Oh, but they…” She looked down sadly and then she looked up again to meet his gaze but with so much mischief in her eyes that a shiver travelled down Mairon’s spine at how terrifying she truly was. “I bring them to life only to die. Look, they’re drying out already in the cold. I give them life and they suffer because of my whim,” she informed him without any emotion whatsoever.

“Why then?” Mairon inquired.

“Because I am selfish,” she answered. “I destroy.”

“You can heal, too,” Mairon assured her and reached out to help the dying butterfly. “Look,” he focused on giving away some of his energy to make the butterfly regain its strength and the young woman’s eyes sparkled as she laughed.

“You fed him with your own spirit,” she noticed. “Why do you think I would let any parasite feed off of me? Who would be ever worthy of sharing my power?” She asked and Mairon’s mouth opened slightly as he was thinking of an answer but they were interrupted by another woman walking out of the castle through the back door.

“(Y/N),” familiar but horribly changed voice caused his facial muscles to twitch out of nervousness. “You are forbidden from going outside. How many more times do I have to say that?”

“You’ve no control over me. I am my own storm; my own thunder,” the girl named (Y/N) stood up angrily.

Mairon stood up as well and straightened his back as he clasped his hands and kept staring down, not daring to look up before being addressed.

“Stop being dramatic and go back inside,” Tasarë sighed and (Y/N) groaned out of frustration before going inside the castle. “Mairon,” the Elf finally called his name and he raised his head.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. Her kin was known for staying forever young, yet she aged in the most peculiar way. The corruption and rot had spread throughout her and there was nothing but a shell of her old self now. In a way, she reminded Mairon of the fallen Elves that Melkor had taken to turn into the Uruks but she remained more beautiful than them and she was not covered with any scars.

Because it was not his torture that had damaged her but his love. Everything about him was destructive and deadly.

The young Elven maiden dancing innocently around the fire in the moonlight was long gone. The woman standing in front of him was a mockery of her old self. 

“Stop pitying me, Mairon,” she snarled at him with contempt. “Did he send you here or were you a fool to give in to your urges to find me and check on the state of me?” She asked.

“He sent me,” Mairon answered. “I have a message.”

“Come in then,” Tasarë pointed at the doors and he went inside the castle. It was as dark and cold on the inside as on the outside.

Tasarë led him to the big room where (Y/N) was sitting as well. She was reading a manuscript by the fire and looked up with a wicked smile at the sight of them.

“Leave us,” Tasarë ordered and the young girl clenched her jaw out of anger before walking out.

“Who is she?” Mairon asked in a whisper.

“You know who she is. You suspect. The answer is yes,” Tasarë sat by the table and reached her hand out for him to hand her the message.

Mairon did so but his brow remained furrowed. Well, it was possible for his master to become a father – as wicked as it sounded – but he was now bound to the form of his flesh. That was the very reason why he was avoiding taking part in his battles despite some accusing him of cowardice. And for a Vala, being bound to the form of your flesh also meant that you could reproduce.

“Forgive me. I have asked the wrong question,” Mairon interrupted Tasarë as she was reading and she looked up to meet his gaze, irritated. “I should have not asked who she was,” he nodded. “What is she?”

“It is hard to tell,” Tasarë answered. “She is like a god but weaker than one. Perhaps a bit like you. She can change her forms and no ordinary blow will slay her. She can create life as you have already seen. She… terrifies me,” Tasarë confessed. “But I love her.”

“Like you love her father?”

Tasarë gave him a scolding look.

“You are asking too many questions, Mairon. He will look through your mind, don’t you know? He will punish you for the fact you have seen (Y/N). That you know about her. That you dared to ask about her and now this… My sweet devil, you must enjoy the pain he is giving you,” she shook her head.

“So do you, apparently,” Mairon did not give up. The punishment would come anyway already, she was right about that.

“It is impossible not to… He is a god,” Tasarë explained as if she was surprised that she had to explain that at all. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be chosen by a god?”

“Not like you do,” Mairon admitted.

Long silence occurred and Tasarë looked around as if she was scared Melkor was right there, spying on them. Because, perhaps he could be. She beckoned Mairon over and he leaned in to hear her words better and her lips nearly brushed his slightly pointed ear as his ginger hair tickled her cheek.

“I have dismissed her to protect you and her from his wrath. You cannot know too much about her but one thing I shall tell you – she is half me, too. Half of the real me. The woman you saw dancing by the fire as a beast; the woman you kidnapped to lay her on his lethal altar and sacrifice her. And now her daughter terrifies me but the amount of her power is so vast… She can heal as much as destroy, my sweet master of deception. And I can see how much healing is what you truly crave,” Tasarë confessed. “Promise me that you will take care of her if anything happens. That you will watch over her. You owe me that. You owe that to the young maiden you took away from her family for him to destroy.”

“I can’t assure you I will be able to tame her,” Mairon breathed out, taken aback by her plea.

“I am not asking you to tame her,” Tasarë shot him a glance. “Don’t you even dare! I am asking you to… accompany her. She is awfully lonely here. She craves to see the world and I am sure the world craves to see her as well for she is a wonder.”

“I will,” Mairon nodded, with all seriousness.

He had seen (Y/N) only for a while but he was drawn to her already. In a way, he understood why Melkor was hiding her from the world. Everyone would be drawn to her. She was the most extraordinary creature. Her enormous power, the light balancing with the darkness within her – the innocence mixed with wickedness. 

He was honoured to be chosen by her mother to be burdened with such a task. And he owed her that favor. 

When Melkor fell and the Valar locked him away, Tasarë followed him even though she was offered mercy. But there was no life for her anymore except for the life next to her lover and she refused to abandon him in the abyss. She volunteered to spend the eternity there with him and the Valar were in awe of her devotion to the point they granted her Elven flesh the possibility of spending her forever alongside Melkor in the dimension of his prison.

The Valar also found out about the existence of (Y/N) and they debated for a long time about what to do with a creature so extraordinary. However, she remained completely innocent so far and the only danger about her was her father’s heritage.

Nienna, She Who Weeps, was (Y/N)’s greatest advocate. And when Mairon was given his second chance to come back to Valinor and face his judgement, they asked him to bring (Y/N) with him because they wanted to meet her – yet the castle she was in remained out of their grasp, which only made Mairon realise that it was truly another dimension that his master had created to hide his lover and offspring in from the world.

And so Mairon went back to that secluded realm in the North, trying to find his master’s daughter. And he found her inside the castle, curled on the floor, in the middle of the biggest room. She seemed to be frozen but she was obviously still alive. He crouched down next to her and touched her shoulder gently, which caused her to stir.

“They abandoned me. Both of them. I shall stay here forever,” she mumbled out.

“Did you not want to see the world?” Mairon asked her gently and (Y/N) looked up at him as she snorted.

“That was a long time ago. My father is defeated now. There is no world for me anymore,” she answered, as dramatically as when he had met her for the first time a few centuries earlier.

“Truth to be told, your father was destroying the world. There would be nothing for you to see if he succeeded. But it is still there, although hurt and bruised. Together, we can heal it,” Mairon offered her his hand.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him, visibly intrigued. She sat up and fixed her hair.

“I promised your mother to watch over you if anything happens. She did not want you to be left alone,” he added to encourage her.

“Why would she ask you out of all?” (Y/N) remained suspicious, doubting his status.

“My name is Mairon. I was your father’s most powerful Lieutenant,” Mairon pointed out, nearly offended that he had to introduce himself to anyone. “Most people know me by a different name, though. It is… Sauron,” he winced a little while saying this.

“The Abhorred,” (Y/N) hummed to herself. “Ah, yes, my mother only spoke of you this way when you were not around,” she added and Mairon pursed his lips, trying not to show his irritation too much. “Well, do you promise me that I will see the world?” She asked as she held his hand, which he still kept extended.

“Yes, I do,” Mairon nodded.

It was never his intention to inform her about the chance the Valar wanted to give them. No, it was not his plan to take her to Valinor and to face their judgement. He had much better plans for the two of them.

Ever since he had seen her for the first time and the promise he had made to her mother, he could not help imagining and plotting them two ruling over Middle-earth. And when Melkor’s defeat had become a question of when instead of if, he had already known that (Y/N) was his future.

Despite the seed of evil deep inside of her – alongside the seed of goodness, of course – she was an innocent being who knew nothing of the real world. He could shape her the way he wished and whatever would come out of her was all in his hands now. In a way, he was a god of this situation – considering she would not be too uncontrollable due to her undeniable power. But which seed would grow within her was up to him entirely. It was his choice which part of her he would water and feed, pamper and spoil.

“We will go everywhere. We will heal and we will conquer. I will take your father’s place amongst the dark creatures of the shadows. I will lead them and I will rule over Middle-earth but you will not be hidden away any longer. No, you will be right by my side,” Mairon promised. He was always good with words and he could see how her terrifying eyes were starting to sparkle at his promises.

“As?” She inquired.

“What do you mean as?” He furrowed his brows.

“As whom? I will be by your side as whom?” (Y/N) explained her question.

“As whoever you wish to be. I am not here to tame you,” he remembered her mother’s words.

No, he was there to use her. To take advantage of her power and to bask in it. To introduce her as Morgoth’s daughter and his right hand, which would convince the dark creatures to follow him more eagerly.

And to have her as his own, to own her, to be the only man able to touch her and look at her. His master’s daughter – she was a prize indeed. Half-goddess he was unworthy of and yet she would eat from his hand.

Those were only bold daydreams that he knew his master and her mother would kill him for but they were far away and he remained out of their reach. 

Because perhaps there was some goodness in him still and that urge to heal the world but at heart he was a predator and a warlord. And even though she still felt like nothing but Melkor’s humbled servant sometimes, he knew that with time he would eventually bloom into his worthy successor. Offering him her daughter while calling out the remains of his softness, Tasarë had not known that she had been giving (Y/N) away to Melkor’s shadow.

“I can sense your greed, Sauron,” (Y/N) squeezed his fingers tighter as if she was trapping him. “But greed is no stranger to me for I have been locked here since birth. I am greedy for life. Selfish for it. And I need your guidance,” she confessed, looking deep into his eyes.

He saw fire in her gaze – her father’s uncontrollable destruction. Perhaps he should slay her and leave her to rot. Perhaps it would be for the better for the whole of Middle-earth and for him, too. He got scared suddenly that he would never be able to keep her temper and her powers under control.

That not only she would finish her father’s work but she would overthrow him – Mairon himself.

But he could also see the flowers blooming and the sun rising above the green hills – she and she only could turn Middle-earth into a realm as beautiful as Valinor; the place he was no longer welcome.

Mairon helped (Y/N) to stand up and he adjusted her dresses as if he was a maid, getting rid of all the dust.

“Do you think the world will fall on its knees at the sight of me?” She asked without the smallest hint of irony. Nearly innocently she believed that she was the most exceptional and the most special creature. And the worst thing was that she had every right to because she was. 

“I will make sure of it,” Mairon promised her and she smiled.

And when she was smiling, she was resembling her mother the most – the very same kind smile Tasarë had been giving him during their journey to Melkor after he had kidnapped her.

Mairon’s heart clenched at the memory.

From one fortress to another Mairon took her – from one prison to another, (Y/N) would say. They had moved South significantly but they hadn’t even left the North yet and (Y/N) was bitter about it since snow and ice was still all she could see. She was unprepared to roam freely around Middle-earth, though, and she was given much more space now instead while the new fortress was much fuller with creatures of all kinds, therefore she could no longer call herself lonely.

It made Mairon happy to see how the Orcs were bowing their heads at the sight of her, nearly touching the ground with their foreheads; too scared to look into her terrifying, cold eyes. He was so excited about it that he did not realise how suspicious Adar was getting.

(Y/N) was given the most beautiful gowns by Mairon and even though it was making him feel frustrated to feel this way – he truly enjoyed giving her gifts and watching her eyes sparkle, although sometimes she would openly admit she found something ugly. He waited for her harsh judgement with anticipation and her approval meant the world to him, meanwhile her rejection felt like a blow. And he hated that for one reason only – it was a brutal reminder that he was a Maia and his nature was of a servant.

His eyes always followed her – he told himself it was to protect her but truth to be told, it was the world that should be protected from her and not the other way around. Yet, he witnessed her whims and dramatic outbursts, her laughter – both pure and wicked – her dancing and her acts of creation. Within the walls of this fortress her butterflies lived much longer and she adorably found it endearing. 

But she was also fascinated by the weapons of all sorts and forbidden magic spells left by her father. Her blood was as black and thick as his, Mairon noticed one day when she drew it with a dagger to perform one innocent spell.

He felt like a nanny sometimes – running towards her to take away the books with too dangerous spells from her. She was yet unprepared to use them. He did not even want to think about what would happen if she was left unsupervised.

Therefore, even in her dreams he followed her and she often dreamt of her mother and of imaginary lands since she had no idea what the real ones looked like. And he had to admit the realms (Y/N) was creating with her mind were… beautiful. They were full of sun and green fields of grass, butterflies and flowers. They were ideal and full of harmony – the very first time Mairon had joined them in her dreams, he nearly cried because it was exactly how he wanted the world to look like. But it also meant that at the end of the day (Y/N)’s heart remained pure and uncorrupted.

And just like that, he fell in love with her. As her protector, as her servant, as her subject, as her friend. As her lover.

One evening Mairon asked (Y/N) to join him in the forge where she had not yet been. She walked inside and looked around with widened eyes and a smile – soft but a little contemptuous as well.

“Do you like it?” Mairon asked her with his hands clasped nervously behind his back.

“Perhaps. But is it not a commoner’s work to commit himself to physical labour?” She leaned her back onto the pillar and Mairon chuckled nervously as he approached her.

“Would a commoner craft you such wonders?” He asked as he reached his hand out and showed her a necklace and a ring that he was holding inside his hand and that he had forged for her a few days earlier. He had been lacking the courage to give it to her until now, though.

“Are they for me?” (Y/N) asked as her eyes sparkled when she took the jewellery from him. Mairon nodded at her question, proud of himself because she visibly liked the gift. “Why?” She asked.

“You do not own any,” he answered.

“But who sees me here? I surely have no need to look grand for the Orcs,” she laughed.

“I see you,” Mairon pointed out and she froze.

He panicked at first, scared that those three words had been three too many. But she was not looking at him at all. She pointed her finger at the item behind his back.

“That is…” (Y/N) whispered.

“Your father’s crown,” Mairon nodded and walked up to it. “I am about to reforge it to fit me. Do you want to watch?” He asked and (Y/N) nodded, hesitantly.

She put on her new necklace and a new ring before Mairon offered her one of the leather aprons. It made her giggle when he was putting it over her gown.

“I would not want your robes to get damaged,” he informed her and she nodded as she sat on the chair nearby and watched with fascination how he worked.

When the black iron of her father’s crown melted, she sighed loudly and Mairon turned his head around to raise his eyebrow at her.

“What is it?”

“I was thinking if you could forge an item for me made out of this iron, too,” she looked up at him. “He was my father. I wish to keep a part of him with me always.”

“You are part of him,” Mairon laughed and she pouted. “But, surely, why not,” he promised and she grinned.

He poured a small amount of the liquid black iron aside to one of the cauldrons over the fire to avoid solidification. And while he worked on his new crown, he wondered what he could forge for (Y/N).

A bold idea came to his mind – an idea so forbidden that he felt a shiver travel down his spine at the thought of what her parents would do to him for having it.

Yet, he was out of their reach, so he went with it and at the end of the night, he handed (Y/N) a wedding band.

“Another ring?” She huffed. “Thought you would be more creative,” she sighed. “It doesn’t even have any gemstone attached to it!”

“Do you know what that is?” Mairon asked, a little impatiently, but mostly nervously. If she rejected him now, it would certainly be one of his grandest humiliations.

(Y/N) furrowed her brows and tilted her head as she stared at the item in her hand, looking at it from every angle. And when the light from the forge’s fire reflected upon the surface of the band, the letters glistened and she read them out loud in a whisper.

“It is a love declaration in Black Speech,” she looked up to meet his gaze as Mairon swallowed the lump in his throat. “That language was not made with love declarations in mind, that is for sure,” she remarked.

“Nevermind then,” Mairon tore the item out of her hands and walked away nervously to avoid her gaze. Taking deep breaths to calm himself down after such a humiliation, he did not hear her footsteps following him.

“Sauron…” She whispered, addressing him by the only name she was ever calling him with because her mother had taught her so, and touched his shoulder but he flinched. “You do not like that name, do you?”

“Yet you keep using it,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

“The Abhorred sounds so pretty to me,” she confessed and he softened a little but still refused to turn around and meet her gaze. “From the moment I saw you those centuries ago… I knew that you were the one for me,” she added and Mairon’s heart quickened. “You showed up out of nowhere like a knight out of my dreams who would save me. Your red hair contrasting with the snow… I shall never forget that day.”

Mairon finally turned around and he watched as she cupped his face gently and pulled his head down to be able to place a kiss upon his forehead while his heart began to pounder.

“However, I cannot marry a man who needs me more than I need him,” she added when she let go of him, her words shattering his heart into millions of pieces.

And alongside the pain, anger came as well. Mairon did not enjoy being rejected.

“If you think you do not need me, you are mistaken,” he spoke as the sudden fury overtook him, causing his veins to swell with thick, black blood. (Y/N) took a step back at the sight. “If it was not for me, you would still be rotting in that fortress, hidden away from the world. I took you here, I prepare your father’s armies to continue their march because you have never been taught anything. I am the one promising you the whole Middle-earth, ensuring its people will worship you. If you do not wish to be sent back there to rot, then you have to accept the fact that I am your only future!” He snapped and calmed down right after, softening immediately as his hands began to tremble slightly. He fixed his hair and clasped his shaky hands quickly to hide his nervousness from her.

“You… You dropped the band,” was all (Y/N) said to that as she pointed at the floor before crouching down to pick it up.

Before she stood up, she looked up at his face and it only made him feel even more guilty and scared for lashing out on her.

“Forgive me,” he grabbed her face and leaned in to be as close as he could. “Forgive me, please, I did not mean to… Gods, it has never been my intention to hurt you,” he was lying to herself as much as to his own self. “You must forgive me, it was only caused by fear. Fear of losing you,” he continued and felt her muscles relaxing eventually.

She even dared to wrap her arms around him as she clinged to him like a child seeking warmth.

“I would never leave you,” she breathed out and brushed his ginger hair to put the loose hair strands behind his ears. “There is nothing I am scared of more than to be left all alone again. You were right and I was mistaken – I do need you. I was teasing you only but I did not expect such wrath in return. You are all I have. What is the point of being so powerful when there is no one to witness?” She finished with a playful question and Mairon sighed out of relief, leaning in to brush her nose a little with his own.

She winced slightly and giggled before moving her head to brush him with the tip of her nose as well. Like two kittens they played like that for a while until he finally joined their lips together and she opened her mouth to let him devour her.

He felt Melkor’s wrath even from all the dimensions away but he could not care less about any of that. To hold a creature like her so close and to feel the heart of her flesh beating so fast for him was a victory of its own. For a moment, he nearly wanted to abandon all his schemes and start a new life with her somewhere – to create a life like the one from her dreams but for the both of them only where they could hide from the world and spend eternity in each other’s embrace.

“Please, don’t send me away back there,” she whispered softly after breaking the kiss, her lower lip trembling slightly.

How silly she could be. He would not be able to do so even if he tried because she was too powerful for that. Yet, her loneliness caused her dependance on him and it was all for him for the taking. He felt bad taking advantage of that but it was too tempting to reject.

“My beautiful (Y/N),” he whispered and caressed her cheeks. “You will never be alone. Wherever you go, I shall follow. And wherever you go, I shall make sure everyone there worships your light and your darkness as equals for you are too powerful to be reduced to one. You will help me to heal, to create new life and I will lead your father’s armies to ensure our victories,” he promised and she smiled before pecking his lips once more.

(Y/N) took a small step back and he watched in awe as she put the wedding band onto her finger. His heart and soul sang at the sight.

“I refuse to be in the shadows like my mother once was. I want to lead the armies with you,” she met Mairon’s gaze. “I want to earn my own squalid name, Sauron. The Abhorred. I want to carry my own title with pride,” she revealed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

How cute and innocent she could be one moment and how terrifying the next. Mairon wondered if the war of her two natures within her was exhausting her. Was she being haunted constantly by the duel of her light and her darkness?

But perhaps there was no war within her. It was only natural for her, after all. Perhaps they coexisted and balanced perfectly and it all made sense somehow. And perhaps it was not his duty to understand any of this but to accept her the way she was.

“You will be given a sword and armour,” he promised. “You will be their Queen of The Day and of The Night. You will be their rescue and their demise. Their Sun and their Moon. Their Life and their Death. And whatever path you choose, I shall follow you down the road.”

“Worry not,” (Y/N) chuckled and approached him to put her hands on his shoulders. “I know it is your wish to heal. And my wish is to rule over a world so beautiful like the ones from my dreams. I will only destroy those who stand on our way to create such greatness,” she swore.

Her words soothed him but could he truly trust her? She was Melkor’s daughter and his influence might have been stronger than they both suspected. What other choice did Mairon have, though? To slay her? He would never do that. Therefore, all he could do was to keep her close and take care of her.

Who was he fooling, though? His own self?

He was there to follow and serve and it was only the matter of time when she would realise how powerful she truly was and what a great influence she had over him as well.

Even if she would destroy the whole Middle-earth like her father wanted to and create a land of ashes, he would gladly rule over it by her side. 

Gods, he would gladly serve there as his Queen’s subject and that would be enough.

“You have no idea what you are doing to me,” he breathed out and she giggled.

“I do. I can see inside your mind.”

MASTERLIST

[arc-misadventures]

BMI Jaune: Willow, Summer, and Kali?

BMI: Jaune II

Juniper: Jaune~!

Jaune: No...

Juniper: What?

Jaune: No. Whatever it is, the answer is: No.

Juniper: But, I never said anything?

Jaune: But, you're going to ask me something, and whatever the ask is about, the answer is: No.

Juniper: ...

Juniper: BMI...

Jaune: AHHHH?! Not this shit again!

Juniper: Your chose for this BMI, are Willow Schnee.

Willow: Hello, Jaune~!

Jaune: Hi...?

Juniper: Kali Belladonna.

Kali: Oh look, it's my favourite human~!

Jaune: Why did you say it like that...?

Juniper: And, lastly we have, Summer Rose.

Summer: Hello, Daddy~!

Jaune: Excuse me, what...?

Juniper: Are you ready to choose who you going to, BMI, Jaune~?

Jaune: The hell are you making me choose between my friend’s mom?!

Juniper: Well, as one woman/mother to another, they told me about their... pitiful sex lives, or lack there of in some cases...

Summer: Juniper?!

Kali: How could you just say that?!

Willow: Considering my ex-husband size or, more accurately the lack there of... Honestly, there isn't much to brag about. There is certainly plenty to complain about however…

Juniper: What? Both of your husbands are dead, so you haven't had much, if any action since they died.

Kalli: Well, that's true...

Summer: It's not like we did it much after I had, Ruby...

Juniper: And, Willow... I'm sorry you had to go through that so often...

Willow: While, I love my children with all my heart, and I wouldn't trade them for the world. I do sometimes find myself wishing I had my son sooner so I didn't have to have... relations as often as I did.

Juniper: See! They have sad sexless lives since they lost their husbands. And, Willow had...

Juniper: She had, Jacques...

Juniper: So, Jaune please, BMI these three woman, and help them ‘fix’ their dry spell?

Jaune: ...

SKW: Please~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Haaaa...

Jaune: I would Marry, Summer.

Summer: And, why do you want to do that, Husband Dearest~?

Jaune: 'Husband dearest?"

Jaune: Okay? Okay, I say that because you look like you would be a wonderful housewife to come home to.

Summer: Naww~!

Jaune: Plus you look like the woman/wife who would do the, "Hi honey, welcome home! Would like a bath, dinner, or me?" Type of woman, and I...? Ahem... yeah that...

Summer: Oh; Is that so~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I Would, Breed Kali.

Kali: Why?

Jaune: Well... You have large birthing hips... and I want to give those birthing hips a run for their money...

Kali: Oh, I hope feel like we're going to enjoy that~!

Jaune: Hahaha...

Jaune: I would impregnate, Willow.

Willow: Oh, why would you do that?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I hate you ex-husband with a burning passion. A lot of people think that killing him, or torturing him to death would be the best sort of revenge for what he did. But, I think... taking his woman, and making her mine is a much more tantalizing idea~!

Willow: Y-Yours?

Jaune: I’ll make you my woman! By the time I’m through with you, you’ll fit around me perfectly, no other man will satisfy you, you’ll come begging for more, and I’ll be all to happy to oblige~!

Willow: Y-Y-You promise…?

Jaune: Uhh… Well… T-That is of we… did do it…

Summer: Do you think he could do that?

Kali: Maybe? My daughter did say he’s quite big.

Willow: How big?

Kali: Six when soft, ten when hard, and plenty thick as well~!

Willow: Heavens, say it is so~!

Summer: Are you really that big~?

Jaune: WHAT?! How the hell do you know that?!

Willow: He is~!

Summer: Hmm… Juniper, please be a dear, and leave.

Juniper: Why?

Summer: Because, the sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll have grandchildren~!

Juniper: Good luck, Jaune! Remember to not use a condom!

Jaune: W-W-What?! Wait… hold on!

Kali: Don run, Jaune: The fun is about to begin~!

Willow: Come on, Jaune… it’s time to continue the, Arc bloodline~!

Summer: So what will it be, Jaune; Will you take, Kali, or do you want, Willow, or perhaps me~?

Jaune: Ohhh…?!

Jaune: P-Please be gentle…?

SKW: Fu-fufu~!

Kali: No promises~!

[c0sm1c-c01nc1dence]

Red

✧ Pairing: Hunter x human!reader ✧

✧ Content/warnings: Soulmate AU, takes place during season 3, use of the word ‘damn’ once, the title is bland and I’m sorry, Hunter and the reader are both dorks, first post on here!! ✧

The “rules” for soulmates, as it were, were pretty straightforward. You see everything in the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you make eye contact with them you can see in full, proper colors. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for you, it wasn’t.

You, for the past sixteen or so years of your life, had been seeing nothing but red. Different shades, thank god, but red nonetheless. And to be frank, you were getting pretty damn fed up with it. The thing is that no one naturally has red eyes. And you would know; you’ve googled it maybe a thousand times already.

So you were fairly certain you didn’t have a soulmate, and this was all some cruel joke from the universe. But life marches on, so there’s no time to dwell on that, is there?

───── ───── ───── ─────

Another day at Gravesfield’s high school, bland as ever. At least until you caught a glance at your friend Luz. Rather, former friend. She’d been acting weird ever since she came back from that ‘reality check’ camp. And not standard Luz weird, no— she’d been avoiding you since then. Acting like she didn’t know you at all whenever you approached her, not to mention her sudden lack of interest in anything she used to like. The Good Witch Azura books, most notably.

So, needless to say, you were a bit surprised at her new look. Curly hair, a new scar over her eyebrow, and a general air of seasonal depression about her. Even though your recent interactions hadn’t gone so smoothly, you couldn’t help but ask. You were still allowed to care about her.

“Luz?” You called out from down the school hallway. She turned her head in your direction, and you could practically see the stars in her eyes when she saw you. She ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. Stumbling backwards, you hesitantly returned the gesture. “Good to see you too?” You awkwardly pat her back, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Y/N, I am so glad to see you! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” She backed away and wiped a small tear from her eye.

“We saw each other yesterday, though?” You chuckled, still perplexed by this whole situation. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kinda acting like you just came back from war right now.” Her face fell slightly, but her smile quickly returned.

“Meet me at my house once school’s done, ok? I have… a lot to tell you.” You nodded, and watched her just walk away casually after that interaction.

“Cool. Good talk, I guess?”

───── ───── ───── ─────

“So, if I’m following,” You began, now in the Noceda family’s living room. “You didn’t go to summer camp, but instead spent several months in a fantasy world, and the Luz I’ve been interacting with is actually a shape-shifting basilisk.” You pointed to Vee, who nodded shyly. “And in this fantasy world you became a witch, made a bunch of new friends, and got a girlfriend.” You left out the details involving Belos and the Collector, deciding that you didn’t need to recap whatever nonsense was going on there.

“Yeah, actually. You’re handling this surprisingly well.” Luz noted.

“I think I’m still in shock, to be honest.” You laugh a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what she’d been through during those months, and you kind of didn’t want to. “So, more importantly, do I get to meet these new people?” You questioned, and her face brightened.

“Of course! They’re upstairs, so let me go get them and I’ll be right back.” You waited downstairs with Vee, exchanging basic small talk. She apologized for the whole ‘impersonating one of your few friends’ thing, which was nice of her. Eventually Luz came back, new friends and girlfriend following behind her.

“Alright! Everyone this is Y/N.” You gave a polite wave, quickly scanning over the group. “Y/N, this is Willow, Gus, Amity, and Hunter.” You got a proper look at all of them as she said their names, your eyes landing on the blond last. Wait a minute, blond?!

As it would turn out, when you made eye contact with Hunter you could suddenly see a lot more colors. He clearly noticed this as well, as a light blush was present on his cheeks and ears. You could feel some heat rise to your own face as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Luz asked, noticing your stunned silence.

“I, uh…” you stumbled over your words like an idiot, still staring at him. Saving what little dignity you had left, your phone dinged from your pocket. Checking the notification, you gave an awkward smile and held it up to the group. “Oh! You know what, that’s my dad. He probably wants me home for dinner!” You put your phone back in your pocket, and began approaching the door. “I’ll see you guys later, okay, bye!”

You got the words out as quickly as you could, and bolted as soon as the door was open. You ran back to your house, face still flushed from embarrassment and being generally flustered, leaving a room full of witches (and one human) awfully confused.

“Hunter, what was that about?” Willow asked, as he still stared at the spot where you once were.

“Um- good question.”

───── ───── ───── ─────

Later that day, Hunter knocked on the door to Luz’s bedroom.

“Come in.” She said idly, distracted by whatever she had been playing on her Switch. He entered her room, hands anxiously fidgeting at his sides. There wasn’t a particularly easy way to say this, so he just bit the bullet.

“So, you know the whole thing with your soulmate, and how you’ll only see in their eye color until you make eye contact?”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Well, it’s possible that maybe, perhaps, Y/Nismysoulmate.”

“What?!” She immediately paused her game, and whipped around to face him. “Really?! Tell me everything!” She sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her, encouraging him to sit down. He did so, face red from having to explain the whole ordeal.

“There’s nothing to tell! I used to only see e/c, I looked at them, now I can see every color, and they— I always thought your hair was black, by the way— and they just ran away!” As Luz sat and processed this information, Hunter continued thinking out loud. “Did they not like me or something? Is it because I’m from the Boiling Isles?” He questioned, grabbing the pointed tips of his ears. Cutting his rambling short, Luz spoke up.

“No, I don’t think so. They were always interested in fantasy like I was. Maybe they were just a bit overwhelmed?” She suggested. He sighed.

“I guess that could have been it.” He said, though the anxiety was still clear on his face.

“Hey, how about I try to get them to come over this weekend? You guys can talk about it then.” He nodded, and watched her grab her phone to message you. Titan, he hoped she was right about this.

───── ───── ───── ─────

A few days had gone by since the whole incident with Hunter. You had been avoiding him since then, though you honestly weren’t sure why. If you had to, though, you’d say it was probably out of shock. I mean, you were convinced you didn’t have a soulmate for years. And now this incredibly good-looking boy comes in from another realm, and he’s supposedly perfect for you? It’s absurd!

Though it was also worry. How would a relationship between the two of you even work out? He’d have to go home eventually, and you probably couldn’t come with him. Maybe he wouldn’t even like you after the way you left the other day, and he’d reject you before you even had a chance. That’d put a quick and easy end to all this.

You’d been really sick of the color red these past couple days. You usually were, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Though you couldn’t avoid your problems forever, despite your best efforts. Luz had invited you over for a board game night to celebrate the two of you reuniting. And, well… who were you to say no?

───── ───── ───── ─────

The day finally came, and it had been going relatively well so far. No one else seemed to know what had happened or why you left that first time you came over. Though you and Hunter had been carefully dancing around each other the whole time. It seemed neither of you were equipped to talk about your feelings at the moment. But were you really ever?

Eventually you saw him slip out the front door. With a sigh, you decided to finally face the problem. No use in stalling any more than you already have. After telling Luz that you were going outside for a moment, you stepped out and saw Hunter sitting on the steps leading to the front door. He turned around at the noise, and immediately turned back the other way when he saw it was you. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him. After a moment, he finally broke the silence.

“You look really nice.” You glanced at him, and saw the pink dusting his face. You smiled at the way his blush would spill out onto his ears.

“Thanks, but I’m not really wearing anything special.”

“I know,” He continued, finally meeting your eyes. “I just mean, like- you look nice. You’re really cute.”

“Oh.” You said, quite simply, now blushing a bit as well. You looked at the ground beneath you, pondering how exactly to go about this. “So, this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Was all he managed. His hands toyed with his pants, still a bit nervous about this whole ordeal. Unable to find the words he wanted, Hunter just looked out at the surrounding neighborhood for a bit. Eventually, though, he said the one thing that was on his mind at the moment. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if I may suggest something scandalous?” His blush deepened at your words, but quickly faded as he watched you intertwine your hand with his own.

“Wow, and we’re not even married yet.” He joked. You put your free hand up defensively.

“I know, I know! What can I say, I like to live on the edge.” He laughed, and you silently basked in the sound. You set your eyes on the sky above you, a handful of stars already visible in the late evening’s light. Maybe red isn’t half bad after all.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1328

Chapter 44:

The vine around your neck kept pulling you away, the struggle to fight it without your magic proving worthless, and yet you kept trying.

Hearing Agatha's screams of pain as she also tried to fight off Rio was driving you mad, but as the sun covered the moon fully, you were left powerless to act.

Eventually, the vine came to a halt, your head pressed against the wooden fence separating Agatha's House from the house right next to it.

Suddenly, more vines spread from the ground; wrapping around your wrists and your ankles, keeping you in an almost crucified position.

You tried to pull them again, and you had to bite your lip, feeling the pain coming from the thorns protruding from the green plants. They were never meant to kill you, just harm you enough when you tried to fight them.

The position alone did not help. A position you had once found excitement now only brought fear. That fear was not for you, though.

It was for Agatha.

It was the fear that you would once again fail to help her. The fear that Rio would harm her until Agatha gave in... the fear that you would be a spectator to this sadistic show of power between the two former lovers.

As if your desperation and need for help had been manifested by the universe, you felt a tingling sensation of magic approaching; for a moment, you wondered if the newcomer was an ally or a foe

You looked up, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Billy in full costume, crown, and power; flying towards you.

All questions about how he got control over them or how he found you got thrown out of the window, hope flattering within your chest; a proof that you could somehow still win this.

"Billy!" You called him out, a tired smile forming.

"Y/N," he exclaimed as he stopped levitating, noticing you trapped by the vines.

Before he could question why you were trapped and not fighting, you interrupted him.

"Help, Agatha!" You shouted at him above the winds. He tried to argue, hesitating, but once again, you did not leave him. "I will be fine! Help her!"

With hesitation, he nodded and flew towards Agatha; readying his powers to blast Rio away from the magicless witch.

The fact that he was now present was a good thing, but it did little to ease worry growing inside of you. No matter how powerful he truly was, he was still a child; untrained.

And Rio... she was an undefeated force, one that could never truly die.

You wanted to help, and so you tried to fight the vines holding you hostage once again. The thorns dug deep into your skin, drawing blood, and yet you used that pain to fuel your attempts.

Defeat was slowly crawling in, and you were so close to giving up, feeling helpless. As you did that you barely noticed, the eclipse was over, and slowly, the first rate of moonlight had started to appear.

'Please,' you begged into your mind. 'Please help me save them'.

You continued mentally praying, hoping whatever ethereal power was out there would feel pity for you.

In that moment of helplessness, you could help but think back to all those years... to en era when you never felt that way.

The first time was back in Salem. You were a child no older than six years old, and yet your powers could surpass the powers of most witches. When you were a child , you never fet helpless, and you always took pride in what you could do.

Then they started criticising you, warning you that you were out of control. They started putting fear in your mind, telling you that without some self awareness, you would harm someone.

And when you actually did harm someone, when you actually started to hold back; you started to forget just how powerful truly were.

Only one person, back then, had tried to change that... Agatha.

You were both teenagers, sitting under a weeping willow. Side by side, you rested your head on her shoulder; fingers interlocked.

In your free hand, you held a flower you had plucked on your way to meet her, and you spun it around between your thumb and index finger.

That day was her birthday, and you had chosen to meet, only for you to confess to Agatha how you felt lately; that growing fear that you would truly harm someone with your powers.

Evanora's pressure on you, to harm and end Agatha,had definitely not helped ease your worries or feel better bout yourself... and your powers.

"You shouldn't listen to them,"she commented as her thumb caressed your skin."You shouldn't hold back for anyone."

"And what if i harm someone?" You looked at her. "What if I harm you?"

Agatha pecked your nose. The now 18 year old always chose to peck you there when younger and you were nervous. Even though, now, you were almost 16, she bever stopped.

"I trust you. I know you never would, no matter how powerful you become."

How many times did Agatha support you? Did she keep telling you to stop holding back? To stop being afraid?

How many times did Rio hold a similar stance?

"You shouldn't be afraid of your powers," she had commented one day after sering you hesitating casting a spel.

"I am not afraid, I am self-aware. There is a difference," you had argued, even though you did not believe it yourself.

"Right, and I don't show up where corpses are." She sat behind you, her longer legs trapping you within them as they spread on each side of you. "You are different than the rest, so why deny yourself that?" Her hands were placed above yours, magic subconsciously reacting; causing an exciting sense of thrill and faint pain. "Why hold back?"

A new memory flashed into your minds, the voice of a woman you did not expect to bring up in such a dire situation.

"Stop holding back. Face your fear."

Lilia had told you those words just before she left you go into the iron maiden. She could have told you anything else, knowing you would never mert again and yet... she chose those words because she knew something more, she had seen it.

The sound of fighting was faintly reaching your ears, reminding you that while you were laying there; contemplating about your life... Agatha and Billy were fighting for theirs.

You should have been there, helping them. You should be by Agatha's side as you promised, do something different compared to all those times you didn't.

And then it hit you.

This was a trial, and it was your trial.

All those times you have chosen to step back, to hold back your power... you potential , your love for Agatha.

There was only one way to end this, to truly honour your promise and be by her side...

And so you took a deep breath, concentrating as you felt the weak rays of moonlight upon your skin. You concentrate harder than ever, digging deep into your magic core. You tried to remember the power you always had, but you were always afraid of it.

Eyes close tightly during your attempt, a tear escaping and rolling on your cheek as you went deeper... and deeper.

The right hand, the very same one branded with the moonmark, wrapped around the vine holding it trapped and with one last effort you've started to summon on your magic in your hand; using it to burn the very same vine holding you hostage.

As you felt your power spreading across your body, burning your restraints... you didn't celebrate in triumph or clapped in joy.

Instead, you fought harder and harder to release it, barely registering the white light engulfing your body, giving you a boost you had never felt before as you finally.

Stopped. Holding. Back.

Chapter 45

[vinnybox]

We know you love Wilson and Maxwell, but do you have any opinions on the other characters? (Willow, Woodie, Wes, etc etc)

Yes! I do enjoy other survivors too! They're all really fun in their own ways I think! I sketched some in MSpaint (Except Wes) and I have another of Woodie I've yet to finish..

I don't know as much about them as you know who, but I still find their personalities from in-game dialogues or in animated shorts really charming!! So much potential and different interactions to be had!

I've got a soft spot for Wendy since she was someone I used to play as a lot more until I switched over to maining Wilson SDHJSD But I love how sweet she can be despite her usually dark/grim lines! She's still a kid after all 😭Klei pls stop hurting them /lh

One line about her interaction with Woodie when he's in his were beaver form and how he PINKY promised to give her a piggy back ride in that form :'((((( She didn't get it... But I am an artist and I can do whatever I want forever

Wes is also so SO SWEET HE JUST WANTED TO DO GOOD BUT HIS LUCK IS JUST SO SO BAD HE GETS INTO SITUATIONS.. and he's a silly lil mime how could I not love that :] He seems like he gets along with everyone GUUH

There's like, so much more about others but I think this is already getting lengthy AHA

[splatashahowlett]

outcasts

logan howlett x reader

you've always been on your own wavelength. always on another planet; in your own little world. you couldn't help it, what you could create in your head was far more interesting than whatever people around you could say or do.

your favorite hobby was to try and find poetry in everything you could see: a willow tree? Do you mean the reincarnation of zeus's nurse? the same one ophelia died under when she realized hamlet could never give her the love she needed?

seeing life this way was way more fun, and if being made fun of was the price to pay to keep your internal peace intact then it was worth it. kids weren't really kind or comprehensive toward your unique mindset. now that you were a grown-up; nothing really changed. you were still enjoying what life gave you with your own approach and people still made fun of you.

except for one person: logan.

which was quite paradoxical because he was known for his judgmental stares and mocking scoffs. he never grew any soft spot for anybody and then you came around, and he fell down the rabbit hole quicker than ever. he was completely mesmerized by you and threatened anybody who dared to even think about mocking your... behavior. at first, you didn't even notice him but you started enjoying his presence more and more. and you finally joined him in the love spiral he was a prisoner of.

logan was standing on the school's porch, cigar in his mouth, watching the students run inside as the rain came pouring down.

the storm was near.

but you didn't care; you stayed still.

"come inside," he called over his shoulder. "get outta the rain." logan called out.

you stayed silent, not even paying attention to him. you were looking at the sky.

"you're gettin' soaked." he grunted. everybody else could have heard a flicker of annoyance in his voice but you knew it was concern and care.

logan glared at you, the annoyance on his face growing. he knew you could be stubborn, which he loved about you, but he didn't want you to catch a cold.

"stop bein' so damn stubborn and get yer ass inside." he growled, his voice commanding but still gentle.

you finally turned around and acknowledged his presence. "I like the rain" you simply answered.

logan frowned, his brow furrowing. he didn't like the fact that you were willingly getting drenched in the downpour.

"you're gonna catch a cold." he grumbled, the gruffness in his voice masked his worry.

"I'll heal"

logan couldn't help but smile softly; he fell harder for you each day. "come with me" you added

the wolverine sighed, his annoyance faded slightly at your request. he can never say no to you, despite his gruff demeanor.

"fine. but we ain't gonna be out here long." he grumbled, stubbing out his cigar on the porch before walking over to you.

he walked down the steps and stopped beside you, his broad frame blocked part of the rain. his arms folded over his chest, and his yellow eyes surveyed the storm.

"I thought you'd be inside, dry and warm." he commented; knowing you liked to stay under the covers, safe from the harsh reality of a world against mutants.

"Isn't it soothing? standing under the rain. knowing you cannot escape it; feeling like it washes you clean?" you said, still in your own bubble.

"guess I hadn't thought of it like that." he admits gruffly. he listens to your words, actually pausing to consider what you say. his eyes roam over your face, studying your expression as you speak. his thoughts wander, remembering how he found your ability to detach from reality strangely comforting. It made you seem almost ethereal.

"you're different from anyone I've ever met before." he spoke up, his deep voice barely above a whisper, almost lost in the howling of the wind.

"you're different from anyone I've ever met before" you said back, looking at him lovingly. he smiled, a rare sight if anybody asked him but something quite common if they asked you. he was still struggling to get used to the softer side of himself that you seemed to bring out, even after all this time.

the storm was raging around you but seemed to fade into the background as he looked into your eyes.

his heart quickened, the gruff exterior faltering as he held your gaze.

"thank you for not making fun of me"

his expression softened even further, his rough exterior crumbling even more. He knew that you've been ridiculed for who you are, and he hated that.

"of course, I won't make fun of ya." he replied "I like you the way you are."

you wrap your hands around his middle; burying your face in his chest.

caught off guard by your unexpected embrace, it took logan a moment to reciprocate. hesitantly, he wraped his arms around you, holding you against him.

he could feel your head resting on his chest, his heart rate increased as he realized how intimate this moment was. the rain continued to fall around you, each drop adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment. It created a strange sense of intimacy, the cool water running over your bodies while you held each other. he tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer to him.

"could you stay with me?" you pleaded

he hesitated for a moment, not because he didn't want to, but because he wasn't used to being asked to stay.

"Yeah." He said gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I'll stay."

"no, I mean, forever." you raised your head, looking at him. "I don't think I can live without you anymore" you confessed.

logan's heart thunders in his chest, the unexpected declaration taking him completely by surprise. his eyes widened slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions.

"forever...?" he repeated, his voice soft and almost unsure. he never thought you would ask that, but hearing those words from you, it ignited something deep within him. he looked down at you, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek.

you slowly nodded. "now that I know what it's like to be loved by you and to love you in return I don't think I can manage not to"

your words hit logan like a ton of bricks. he's never heard anyone say something so raw and heartfelt, and it hit him right in the chest. he went speechless, his heart hammered in his chest. but then, his expression softened, and he pulled you even closer against him.

"I feel the same way, darlin'," he muttered. "can't imagine not havin' you in my life anymore."

and you just smiled, because in your world, words weren't required to translate a soul. and logan wanted more than anything to be part of it, so he stayed silent and held you tightly against him, his fingers gently tracing small patterns on your back. the storm continued to rage around the both of you, but it felt right: being in his arms felt right.

logan honestly had no idea if what you just said meant that you two were an official thing but he couldn't bring himself to care over such a foolish detail. as long as he could hold you as much as he wanted, he was a happy man.

[ninii-winchester]

Trust In Ashes

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 2.7k

Warnings : angst, alot of angst, demons, blood, violence, slight spoilers but not exactly following plot, language, mentions of injuries, dean(?) I’m sure he’ll never do anything like this but wtv, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The fluorescent lights of the cramped motel room flickered as Sam sat hunched over his laptop, the glow illuminating his focused expression. His fingers danced across the keyboard, searching for any leads on unusual supernatural activity. It had been a slow week for the Winchesters, but something was nagging at the back of Sam's mind.

After a few moments of scanning through local news sites, he stumbled upon a small article dated just a couple of days ago. The headline sent a chill down his spine: "Strange Occurrences in Willow Creek: Locals Report Electrical Disturbances and Missing Pets." He clicked on the link, his eyes darting over the text.

He glanced at the couple snoozing in bed, Y/n leans back against Dean, who wraps his arms around her in a protective embrace. The warm glow of a nearby lamp casts a gentle light over them, highlighting the content look on their faces. Their legs are tangled together, and they shift slightly to find the perfect position. Dean buries his face into her soft hair, breathing in the familiar scent, while the she relaxes into his embrace. 

Sam knew the news definitely had something to do with demons, the omens were there, he just wanted to wait for the couple to have a good sleep before they got on the road. Things have been tense with the apocalypse looming and the two angelic brothers wanting to jump Sam and Dean. The thought of being a vessel to Satan himself was something that made Sam uneasy. He almost never wanted to think of the repercussions of him saying yes to him, sometimes he felt his resolve waver but Dean and Y/n kept him grounded, even he was ever going to lose himself and say yes to Lucifer he was sure Dean would never allow Michael to take over his body and cause the end of the world.

As he shifted in his chair, the mattress creaked under Dean's weight. Sam turned slightly, watching them. Dean's brow furrowed in sleep, his protective instincts still active even in slumber. Y/n's hair fell across her face like a curtain, shielding her from the worries that had plagued them for weeks. Suddenly, a soft rustling from the bed drew his attention. Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Sam? What's going on?" she asked taking in his distraught expression, her voice laced with sleep but edged with concern.

"Just some strange happenings in Willow Creek," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Electrical issues and missing pets. I think it's connected to something... supernatural."

"Demons." Dean quipped waking up, his eyes fluttering open as he stretched. Sam nods in agreement as he was thinking the same.

“Willow Creek’s not far from here, actually. If we leave soon, we can get there by nightfall,” Sam replied, glancing over at Dean and Y/n. He knew they needed rest, but time was of the essence.

Dean’s hand found Y/n’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What do you think, sweetheart. You up for a little demon hunting?” His smirk was faint, but the affection in his eyes was unmistakable. His first instinct was to keep her out of danger but he would never ask her to stay back. Y/n offered a sleepy smile and nodded, though she couldn’t ignore the knot forming in her stomach.

Sam quickly packed up his laptop, his expression hardening as he prepared for the road ahead. The looming apocalypse was a weight that hung over them all, a constant reminder of what was at stake. But now all their focus was on whatever that was waiting for them in Willow Creek.

The drive to Willow Creek felt fairly short with Dean behind the wheel. Sam took a nap in the backseat while Y/n accompanied Dean in the front. The Impala rumbled to a stop outside a rundown motel on the outskirts of Willow Creek. They walked into the lobby, where a tired-looking receptionist barely lifted her eyes from the old TV on the counter. Dean leaned forward, flashing a charming smile. They got themselves a room with two beds and turned in for the night.

The next morning the trio decided to talk with the townspeople for more information on the unnatural occurrences around the town. They went to see the girl who had reported her pet cat missing. She was teenager named, Alice. She told them that Alice has been missing for days and she had last seen the in her room. Upon investigating the room, Y/n found traces of sulfur on the window sill and even caught a trail. She gestured her head to the boys to follow her. The trio moved through the dense woods just outside Willow Creek.

Y/n clutched a small iron knife, glancing around with cautious eyes, while Dean kept his shotgun at the ready, salt rounds loaded. Sam walked slightly ahead, scanning their surroundings for any signs of demons.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Y/n murmured, shivering slightly as a cold wind passed through the trees.

“Yeah, something doesn’t feel right,” Dean agreed, his voice low. Just as Sam was about to speak, a few people came out of the trees, ambushing the trio.

“Well well well, look who we have here.” A female said inching closer to the three. “The Winchesters.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the woman and then Sam spoke.

“Meg?” He questioned looking at her curiously. She beamed at him sarcastically and tilted her head to look up at him.

“You recognised me, though i must say this suit is prettier than the last.” She said running her hands through her raven hair.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean growled aiming his gun at her. But she laughed at him, holding out her hand.

“Please Dean, don’t even try.” She closed her hand cutting off Dean’s air supply and making him drop the gun and clutch his neck. Y/n immediately moved to his side trying to help him. Meg quickly released him and he coughed up a bit before she spoke again. “Had to create hell lot of ruckus to get you guys here. But I just need Sam.” She said looking up at the tall man.

“Why?” Sam glared at her, clenching his jaw.

“Oh nothing serious, just need you to say yes to Lucifer.” She replied nonchalantly making the trio rage.

“Like hell we’re letting you take him. Even if you do he won’t say yes.” Y/n snapped.

“You know what, I’m tired of this conversation.” Meg gestured her goons to capture Sam but Dean quickly killed of the demons with the demon blade, while Sam was fighting off other demons, Y/n started to chant the exorcism. “Can’t let you do that, honey.” Meg slapped Y/n making her stop and the latter punched her back.

Dean watched Meg slap Y/n and was distracted momentarily which gave the demon, he was fighting, an upper hand, getting him stabbed in the side. Amidst all chaos, Meg and Demons managed to take Sam and Y/n away. Dean screamed and yelled but they disappeared right in front of his eyes and he leaned against the three holding his wounded side.

Dean managed to go back to the motel and patch himself up. He grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge and gulped it down before thrashing the room. He quickly pulled out his phone and called Bobby. The man answered the call almost immediately.

“Bobby,” Dean breathed. The old man urged him to speak before he lost his mind. “We were on a hunt, me, Sammy and Y/n, it was ploy to get us here. Fucking demons.” Dean growled pulling at his hair as he paced the room. He filled Bobby in on everything that Meg said, and that he was going to lose his mind if he couldn’t find either of them.

“Dean, I think you should call for Castiel. He might be able to locate them.” Bobby suggested and Dean nodded vehemently. He was glad he called Bobby as his brain had completely shut down.

After ending the call Dean continued to pace the room as he called for Castiel. He prayed with his whole chest so the angel would hear him. He desperately needed his help.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel appeared in front of him. The blue eyed man was looking at him curiously as to why he’d called, since he was sure Dean would never change his mind about saying ‘Yes’.

“Castiel, man i need your help. I know I’ve cursed you a bit too much but you gotta forget it all help me.” Dean spoke way to fast for it be coherent but the angel somehow managed. He nodded and asked Dean how he could help. Dean told him everything that’s happened and waited for the angel’s response.

“I would love to help you Dean,…” Castiel spoke and Dean felt like there was a ‘but’ coming in and he was right. “But if Sam says yes then it’s over. You’re gonna have to say yes to Michael.”

“My brother would never say yes to him.” Dean glowered grabbing the angel by the lapels of his trench coat.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was harsh. “Lucifer’s Demons have got him. You can’t even begin fathom the horrors they could inflict on him to get him to say yes.” Dean gritted his teeth at the mental image that flashed into his mind, he didn’t even want to think of it.

“You’re wasting time, Castiel.” A heavy silence settled in the motel room as Dean shoved his weapons into a duffel bag. Holy water, shotguns with salt, his regular gun and of course the demon blade. If Castiel isn’t going to help him then he’s not going to sit around waiting for a miracle. Two of the most important people in his life have been abducted by demons and he’d be damned if he didn’t do anything about it.

“Dean, I can’t locate them.” Castiel commented after a while and Dean stopped in his tracks.

“What do you mean?” He questioned, his brain already filling with the worst case scenarios.

“They’re probably under sigils, the demons must’ve painted the place to keep them hidden from me. They’re blocking me.” The angel explained and the hunter nodded.

“I’ll find them on my own.” Dean said leaving the motel room and getting into the Impala. He drove around like a madman trying to see anything that resembles a demon’s hideout. It must probably be a warehouse or an abandoned building. Castiel appeared beside Dean in the Impala, scaring him. Dean gave him a curious look.

“I’ll know when my powers are being blocked that way it’ll narrow it down for you.”

Dean gripped the steering wheel of the Impala, the engine roaring in protest as he sped down the winding road, his mind racing with thoughts of Sam and Y/n. Castiel sat in the passenger seat, his expression focused, eyes scanning the landscape as they searched for any sign of the hidden demons.

A few moments later, Castiel pointed out the window. “That abandoned warehouse—there’s a disturbance in the air around it. I can sense the darkness.”

Dean slammed on the brakes, the Impala skidding to a stop in front of the dilapidated building. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “You sure?” And Castiel nodded.

“I’m afraid I can’t go any further.”

Dean looked back at Castiel but nodded, he appreciated him coming along but he wouldn’t waste any more time. Without saying another word he loaded his shotgun and went inside. The walked further inside the dark warehouse and saw Y/n and Sam, tied to chairs and they were both in bad condition. Sam worse than Y/n. All Dean saw was pure rage.

Sam’s whole face was bloodied, the crimson liquid poured from the side of his head, his chest was covered in bruises, while wide gashes ran along his arms. Dean’s heart clenched in his chest as his gaze fell onto Y/n. Her lip was swollen and gashes were visible on her arms as well, he could see a faint fingerprints around her neck, and her forehead had a split, dripping blood onto her cheek. While Sam still wasn’t completely unconscious, Y/n’s head lolled to the side as she succumbed to the darkness.

“Sweetheart,” Dean kneeled in front of her tapping her cheeks lightly. She fluttered her eyes open and he sighed in relief.

“Dean,” she choked smiling painfully but then she remembered, “Sam.” She mumbled looking the side. “Help him.” Dean nodded at her.

“I’ll help him, I’ll help you both.” Dean said moving to untie her hands when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Ooh the hero is here to save the day, huh.” Meg taunted walking towards the trio. Dean turned to glare at her and she smiled.

“A few more hits and he’ll be begging to say yes.” She spoke evilly and Dean shot at her but she dodged it.

“Get him out of here.” Y/n mumbled to Dean. In that moment Dean’s mind was troubled but he knew if he left Sam with them they’d probably torture him enough to say ‘yes’, which will result in the end of the world. His mind kept chanting, ‘Save Sam’ and he knew he had to save his brother.

Dean stood up to his feet and punched Meg, knocking her unconscious, he quickly untied Sam and supported his weight on his shoulder. “I’ll be back for you sweetheart, I promise.” He said to her and she nodded weakly.

“I trust you, Dean.” Was the last thing he heard before he went outside. He quickly threw sat Sam in the backseat of the Impala.

“Castiel heal him.” Dean commanded and Castiel put his fingers over Sam’s forehead but nothing happened.

“I..I can’t.” The man in the trench coat said looking half ashamed and half perplexed. “I think this is some sort of dark magic that I can’t undo. He needs medical help.”

In that moment Dean forgot what else he was supposed to do, who else needed him. His brain kept telling him his brother was dying and he couldn’t let that happen. He forgot that he was supposed to go back inside and save the woman he claimed to love. But in that moment nothing mattered except for the fact that his brother was on the verge of dying and he had to save him. He got into the driver’s seat and drove off towards the hospital.

An hour later, Sam was out of the ER and shifted into a private room, while he slept Dean paced the hallway when Castiel approached him.

“Dean,” he placed a hand on the hunter’s shoulder. The green eyed man turned to the angel who had a sombre look on his face. “I heard Y/n.” All the color drained off of Dean’s face when he heard her name and he realised that he’d abandoned her. “She was calling out my name, even yours, she seemed anguished, pained.” Dean’s breath caught in his throat as Castiel’s words sunk in. Y/n was calling for them—calling for him—and he hadn’t been there to answer. The weight of that realization pressed down on him like a heavy shroud, threatening to suffocate him.

“I can’t hear her anymore,” Castiel continued, his tone grave, eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and concern. “I’m sorry.” The apology felt like a dagger twisting in Dean’s heart. He staggered backward, trying to process the implication of Castiel’s words. He had left Y/n, left her in the hands of demons. Despair washed over him in waves, threatening to pull him under. His mind raced with images of Y/n, her smile, her laughter, now replaced by fear and pain. He had failed her when she needed him most.

He sunk to his knees, the weight of the world crashing down around him. The cold concrete floor felt like a punishment beneath him, a stark reminder of his failures. His breath came in shaky gasps as he struggled to hold back the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. This is something he would regret for the rest of his life. “I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he whispered into the emptiness, feeling as though his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01 @n-o-p-e-never @itsdesiree86

@kr804573

[courtingchaos]

It’s Just a Question

A/N: Back on my bullshit. I’ve had some really hard times with my normal writing while also finding myself in some shitty circumstances. So this is how this came about. Just a lot of feelings. Technically plus sized reader but you can do whatever you want.

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Am I pretty?”

“What?” Eddie sprays toothpaste on the mirror, he’s so quick to ask.

“Am I pretty?” You scrunch your face up over and over, drawing your eyebrows down and crinkling your eyes. Purse your lips and frown deep and finally look over at him staring at you, toothbrush hanging from his mouth and arms braced on the countertop.

“Are you pretty?” He reiterates with a deep sigh. “Of course you are, you’re gorgeous. Especially right now when your hair matches mine and we look like two electrocuted cotton balls.” He’s not flippant but he’s definitely brushing you off.

You aren’t done though. “I’m serious, and I’m not asking if you think I’m pretty. Am I pretty like…Anne Hathaway.” You pull down on your cheek and watch it bounce back, albeit slower than it did when you were 20.

“Well…you don’t even look-no.” He stops quickly and spits in the sink and rinses his toothbrush, viciously shaking his head the whole time. “This is a trap and I refuse.” He says as he leaves you in the bathroom.

“Eddie it’s not a trap it’s an honest question!”

“This is like the worm thing and I’m not doing that again!” He yells over his shoulder before closing himself in the bedroom to get dressed for work. You sigh and turn to look at your tired reflection. Your perpetual eyebags answer your question for you, and your dusting of sun damage yells it louder from the mirror.

Not pretty, subliminally average.

Standing in line at the grocery store, Eddie slumped over the handle and picking at stray grapes, you ask again only this time with a visual aid.

“Okay, I mean like this.” You shove a copy of Rolling Stone under his nose, a new pop star gracing their cover in something sheer and tight. “I meant pretty like this.” You say quietly next to him. He chews on another free grape slowly, staring at the cover and tilting his head. He doesn’t move, just slides his eyes way over to give you the look.

“You’re prettier than her.”

“What about Juno Temple?” You quip back.

“She’s shorter than you. And British, doesn’t count.” He quips right back. You huff and shove the magazine back in its slot.

“You’re not understanding me.”

“No, I am. You’re just not listening to me.” He pushes the cart up a spot and continues his easy lean. “You’re pretty like…that.” He searches the newsstand by the register and points at a baking magazine, perfectly circled apple tart dusted with sugared cinnamon and you bark a loud laugh.

“A tart Edward?”

“Don’t twist my words. I said you’re pretty like that.” He smiles, pops another grape in his mouth and starts tossing things on the conveyer belt.

Pretty like a baked good.

He’s elbow deep in the shelf of succulents, looking for something called a ‘Black Rose’.

“I know it’s in here, there’s four dead ones up top.” He’s pushing little green teardrops to the side to find his prize, a loud ‘Ha!’ when he whips his hand out, holding the little plant by its little container.

“It’s so tiny.”

“Yeah and in like six months it might not be.” He gives you a cheesy smile and sets in the cart with your other potential house plant failures. Somehow he’s managed to keep a giant flat pot of succulents alive for almost a year and every time you go to the plant store, he adds another.

“Okay, what’s its name.”

You hum at him, tapping your finger along the cart when you get distracted. A willow of a woman walks in, hair shiny like water and flowing over her thin, petite shoulders. She looks like she’s on a mission, perfectly manicured hand pointing her in the right direction when she heads for a batch of bright zinnias. Her smile painted a bright coral like the plant she picks up and places in her cart, three more following and off she billows to the next aisle full of ivy. Eddie saw it the moment you stopped listening to him listing off names. The swivel of your head and then the tapping of your finger ceasing, knuckles going white around the cart handle. He watches you watch her and he knows the question is coming before you turn back around with that frown hewn into your forehead.

“Like this.” He holds up the small succulent, barely formed petals burnished a deep purple in the afternoon sun.

“What.”

“Pretty like this.”

“You don’t even-“ You scoff and cut yourself off, heavy eye roll directed at no one while you turn away and sulk by the snake plants.

He doesn’t tell you, but he names it after you.

The Big One happens during the summer. Chrissy is engaged, and her new belle and her decide to have a joint bachelorette party, everyone invited. You know Eddie’s people, all these random characters drawn together through something you don’t quite understand. You meet Chrissy fiancé and she’s just as bubbly and sweet as Chrissy herself. Eddie gives them your gift and drops a kiss on Chrissy’s cheek and it barely bothers you.

They’d dated just out of high school. 15 years ago and before Chrissy had realized why men just never hit the spot. She floats around her party and you hang around behind Eddie while he walks the two of you around in conversation. At some point you’d gone past your standard three (3) drinks and the mango seltzers are starting to make you a little resentful.

Thankfully you catch it, excuse yourself to the bathroom and give yourself a stern stare in the mirror.

It’s not your party.

They’re just friends.

It’s not about you.

…Is it ever?

There’s a reason you stop at 3 lately, that rolling black pit of self loathing feeds on bubbly things and it’s feeding on a blonde tonight.

So when you come back you sit at a table by yourself. You tuck your hands under your thighs and admonish yourself for how wide they are. There’s a tug of war happening between your self pity and your self depreciation, a tear balancing on your lashes while you roll the wet eyes under them. Eddie finds you bent over your phone and all you can think about is how wide your shoulders must have looked from that far away.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I had to uh, go to the bathroom.” Your pause gives you away, just south of tipsy, and Eddie smiles, his big hand sliding under your chin to hold it between his fingers. A move that usually has you melting into his palm, but tonight?

You tug your head away and he frowns. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think I need to be here anymore.”

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m just fine. I’m gonna get an Uber home, you stay.” You stand up and hate the feel of your clothes on you. Your hair feels too heavy and the makeup you spent an hour on is suddenly sticky and tacky and wasted on you.

“No, we’ll leave together.” Eddie has concern all over his face. He tries to give you a hand when you obviously stumble and you slap it away.

The fight only starts when you start crying, unable to control your emotions anymore. You spend the whole ride home feeling sorry for yourself, saying the most inane shit Eddie’s ever heard.

“You can’t ask me to compare you to Chrissy. That’s not fair!” He laughs humorlessly when you ask him who’s prettier. “One, it was 15 years ago! Two, I’m not doing this anymore!” He yells and it shuts you up. He can hear the click of your jaw with how quick you stop yammering on drunkenly about your thighs.

“If you want to play that game, let’s look at your past relationships, huh?”

“What relationships Eddie?!” You scream back at him. There’s a part of his being that can feel the backslide into the terrible habit of yelling to get his point across. Picked up from his father and quelled at every turn, but today you drag it out of him.

“Oh don’t start with that shit again.”

“You mean all the guys that fucked me in the dark?! Or do you mean the ones that pretended not to know me in public?”

He gets to your apartment in record time, slamming the car in park and scrambling to hold your seatbelt buckled before you can run out.

“Let me out.” Your face is red from crying and from hatred and from loathing.

“No.” He says quieter but with finality. You stare at him, waiting for him to move his hand but he won’t, keeps his fingers locked around yours.

“You’re drunk, and you’ve been in a bad mood lately.” He knows he knows he knows that was the wrong thing to say. It spilled out of his mouth before he could throw the net out for those errant words and you give him the meanest smile he’s ever seen on your face.

“A bad mood?” You nod your head like you’re agreeing but he’s bracing for impact. “A bad mood. Tell you what, when I have a fucking roster of groupies and easy boys behind me, then we can talk about my bad mood.”

“You’re mad because of people I’ve slept with?”

“Look at me Eddie!” You scream and it breaks on his name, the sob you’d been swallowing for an hour finally surfacing. “I don’t fucking look like Chrissy and I sure as fuck don’t look like Steve! You still have that picture of that stand in drummer on your profile you fucked around with! Every single one of them is-fuck! Stunning!” You finally wrench the seatbelt out of his hand and free yourself. “I look like a fucking joke when you take me places. You think I don’t see people staring?” Another mirthless laugh before you kick the door open and wobble your way out. “Make someone else laugh, Eddie.”

He watches you stomp off inside and slap the button for the elevator. There’s enough time he could get out and follow you in and upstairs and finish the yelling match and maybe get you to see straight.

But he doesn’t. His grip tightens on the steering wheel so much it creaks. He feels on the verge of tears and when you disappear behind the closing doors he punches his door and drives home too fast.

The doorbell rings and Eddie answers it without thinking. You look small in your hoodie, your hair damp and braided over your shoulder. He’s so used to you standing tall with him, a sturdy pillar he can lean on instead of always having to be the support. To see your shoulders pulled in tight makes his chest ache.

“I’m sorry I haven’t answered your texts.” You say quietly.

“I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”

“God don’t-“ you wipe at your eyes and stare at your feet. “Don’t apologize to me. I shouldn’t have gone off the fucking handle like that.”

“Maybe, but you’re obviously feeling some kind of way that you aren’t telling me about.”

“It’s the normal shit, Eddie. I just let it get to me.”

He holds the door open wider and nods his head over to the couch. “You wanna tell me about it?”

You don’t, not really. It’s going to go the way it always does with you explaining a life long loathing and the few times you see daylight out of the pit it holds you in.

“I shouldn’t have started that pretty shit.” You shake your head and clutch the pillow tighter around your middle. Eddie sits on the other side of the couch, long legs tucked up under his chin and you wish you could fold in on yourself like that. There must be a twist to your mouth or a shift of your body because Eddie sighs deeply.

“You know you don’t have to ask me that.”

“I know, but that’s not what I was asking anyways.”

“What does it matter?”

You shoot him a puzzled look. “I mean, I just want-I’d like to know if-“ you start and stop and Eddie just waits until you stop floundering.

“If I think you’re pretty, what does the rest matter?”

“It just does.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you hide it behind your fist. Eddie catches it, of course, and crawls over to you, grabbing your quivering chin and making you look up.

“I can’t undo a lifetime of self loathing in one afternoon, but I can definitely help cut through that shit one compliment at a time.” He gives you a gentle kiss and feels the smattering of tears hit your face, his thumb coming up to wipe them away. He cradles your face till you bury it in his neck and quietly cry for a while.

You loose count of how many sorry’s you give him and he finally tells you enough with a smile. He gives you his phone and tells you to order dinner and he disappears for a few minutes in his room.

Later, after food and more talking and a quiet nap spent curled up against Eddie’s side he asks if he can take you to bed.

“Sure grampa.” He smiles at your humor, an improvement to the tears earlier. He gets you out of your Sad Clothes and you quickly get under the blankets. He wants to say something but he knows to start small.

Starts with the lights off and sheds his clothes before crawling under the blankets from the foot of the bed. It makes you laugh and wind your legs around him, a win in his book. He kisses up your legs leaving a wet trail from your ankles to your thighs before you feel your face growing hot the closer he gets to your center. When you think he might pull your underwear off he doesn’t, instead kissing up your soft stomach to your breast and it isn’t until his curls spill out from under the blanket that you can hear him murmuring against your skin. Chanting “beautiful beautiful beautiful” and laying down “I love you’s”. His nose runs along under your chin while he kisses up to your ear “so pretty so perfect”. He runs his hands up into your hair and hold you in place while he hovers, warm brown eyes staring lovingly into yours.

“You have no idea how lucky I am.”

“Eddie…”

“No, don’t start.” He kisses you long and slow and it makes you tear up in a good way. He notices them hanging in the corners of your eyes and kisses those away while you laugh at him, watery and light and he knows he’s winning. It isn’t long before he’s got you trapped under him, legs tugged up around his hips so he can fuck into you slow and deep, his fingers still carding through your hair and keeping your eyes on him.

“So good for me.”

“Keep your eyes on me baby.”

“Just me and you.”

You couldn’t close your eyes if you wanted to, anchored to his stare and his touch and the way he whispers at you such sweet things. He kisses you deep when he feels you tightening around him. Thighs pulled tight around his hips, hands grasping for his shoulders to hold him tight to you while you spasm and gasp around him. He follows soon after, dropping his head down to nuzzle into your neck.

“Sweet girl.”

“Always so good to me.”

“Love you so much.”

Eddie lets you unwind from him before he lays on his back beside you.

“Can I show you something?” He pulls you in next to him so you have to drape over his chest, tattoos swelling under his deep breath. He holds his phone over your heads and finds the photo album he was looking for. You catch a glimpse of one of you and start to turn your head into his chest before he tuts at you.

“What did we just talk about?”

Instead you give him the benefit of doubt and let him scroll through. He talks about all the photos he has of you and why he kept them. Why he took them or got them from Robin or Nancy or one of the kids on one of the many outings. He’s got pictures of sunsets and really good food and flowers and his succulent pot. There’s a skyline in the rain from a green room he was in that he tells you reminds him so much of you. Says something about composition and the rain and how it comforts him like you do and if you weren’t wrung out you’d start crying again. He scrolls for a half hour explaining every photo and why they’re all you or remind him of you and how he finds you in the things he finds beautiful.

“So yes, I do.” He grabs your chin and you melt into his touch as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. “I think you’re pretty and beautiful and stunning and I will remind you every day.” Another peck before he cradles your head against his chest.

One day, maybe, you won’t have to remind yourself that it doesn’t matter. That Eddie thinks you’re pretty and that’s all you need, but today you know it for sure and feel it for sure and it’s enough.

(Sacrifice for the read more)