#I never remember what I call these sort of posts
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alchemistc · 1 day ago
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You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.
They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.
And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.
Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.
I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.
My mistake.
Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.
That's not fair. I'm sorry.
The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.
He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.
Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.
Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.
No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.
He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.
He wonders if it had hurt.
Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.
His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.
Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.
His life has meaning, and all that jazz.
Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.
(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)
There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.
The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.
It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.
It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.
When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.
I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.
It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.
And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.
Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)
Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)
He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.
And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -
His phone buzzes on the coffee table.
Can we talk?
Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.
Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.
His phone chimes with an incoming call.
Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.
His phone rings again.
"What?"
"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."
Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"
"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."
"Are you driving right now?"
"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"
Buck gets stuck on fifth time.
There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.
Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.
"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."
Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."
"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."
He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."
Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.
(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)
The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.
He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.
He looks like shit.
"You look like shit."
Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.
"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."
Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.
Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"
Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.
"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -
"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.
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wszczebrzyszynie · 11 hours ago
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i know this has more than a year but i really can't find it in your blog, did you ever talk about the endings in your horror rpg maker hc au?
well i thought i did and then it turns out i didnt? and then it turns out neither me or @makowcy (co creator of all my aus ever) kept any text about it whatsoever because we discussed it all live durning the last days of school which was also a heatwave. and now we dont remember. so here is what we think we meant? at least things we managed to piece together on a 1.5 hour phone call. well have some never released mycelium RPG au art as well somewhere under the cut. first one made by aku. geniuely what made you remember that its been over a year now and there were only two loose idea posts about it. well do whatever you want with this
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there were probably 5 endings, each corresponding to one of the characters (except for jimmy who dies early on and is a wake up call of sorts for grian)
pearl ending (bad ending) - pearl kills grian (player character) in the bossfight, wins and destroys the earth in her attempt to eradicate mycelium the martyn ending (neutral ending) - grian beats pearl (doesnt kill her) and becomes the personification of infection/mycelium (he is always the one to deal the final blow, as that is what ascends him to godhood. martyn knows this, hes using him as a sacrificial lamb); he becomes mother spore and gets backstabbed by martyn, who then kills him permamently using the special item we simply called "the weapon", which saves the earth from the mycelium apocalypse
big b ending (attainable through high relationship points with him) - martyn dies (somehow), grian doesnt become mother spore and instead gets mercy killed by him before the infection finishes him off. there is no pearl fight. he sets off to manually purify the earth as that is the power he has as what we called "pearls paladin" for simplicity
mother spore ending (attainable through high relationship points with martyn) - plays off normally, except martyn hesitates before killing grian (now mother spore), ending in his failure and death. mother spore is the last one left and infection thrives
scar ending (attainable through high relationship points with him): well this one is tricky as scar is a 4th wall breaking character. he knows whats going on at all times and that it is a game. to get it you need to get high relationship points with him, but also play the game at least once - otherwise things get awkward as he "doesnt really know you (grian and/or the player)". The choices required to gather the points go against every other character, and the correct answers to his dialogue options would be hidden in the game files somewhere; in general scar would have a "notebook" in the game files talking about different things. his relationship points dont reset with every savefile reset. once all requirements are met he can be invited into the party, but he declines and instead gives grian "the weapon", which he uses to permamently kill pearl, which also ends the world for everyone except grian and scar. i remember that scar considers it the good ending, because it takes a lot of preparation and therefore its an active choice grian/you make to make it happen, so its just... exactly what grian/you wanted
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heys0ulmate · 2 days ago
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veneration (this faith's got me high)
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pairing: sofia falcone/gigante x f!reader
summary: sofia isn't the same anymore- but you've waited too long for her to care.
warnings: uhh .. unnegotiated/dubcon, gun usage, slight bondage, passing out, im sure im missing stuff, not proofread, major abuse of italics sorry lmao
word count: 4.6K
A/N: this is the first part of what i PLAN to be a series, tho im not sure when the next part(s) will be out. i legitimately havent published a fic in over a decade so im sorry that its like. poorly structured LOL. not much smut in this one sorry yall. title from holy by zolita btw. also this was posted prematurely by accident cus it was still in my drafts but oh well
〰️
You don't recognize the room you're in, but you feel no danger. All you feel is giddiness and bliss.
There's something warm next to you. Sofia.
Her red, pretty lips are moving, corners curled up slightly, but you can't hear her. You laugh despite the fact, because it feels right. The joy in your chest overwhelming.
She's closer, now. You're laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. It's getting hard to breathe.
Sofia cups your face. She looks scared, but you still can't hear what she's saying. You can't speak- all you can do is laugh and choke for air.
The room changes.
It's crowded.
You spot Sofia from across the galley.
Something in you tells you to run to her, as fast as you can, like you'll die if you don't. It's an all-consuming type of panic, the inability to breathe slowly creeping back.
You push past the crowd, but the more progress you make, the larger the room seems to grow.
The crowd parts, and you see her. She's leaving the room, hand in hand with her father. Her lips are parted in a scream that you still can't hear.
"Sofia!" You shriek, running as fast as you can now that the people have cleared a path.
You're inches away from Sofia and the grip her father has on her when you suddenly hear her voice loud and clear from behind you.
"She's not here anymore."
You bolt up from your bed, gasping for air and flailing under your blanket, desperately trying to wrestle it off.
It takes a minute to gather your bearings.
"Shit," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your eyes.
It shouldn't phase you. You can't remember a single night in the past ten goddamn years that you haven't woken up from a some sort of dream-turned nightmare about Sofia. But something about this one seemed to stick to you like summer heat, an uncomfortable, lingering sensation that seems to amplify the harder you try to ignore it.
"She's not here anymore."
It rings through your head like a catchy song as you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water.
In the ten years since Sofia was taken from you, you haven't heard her voice even once. You weren't allowed visitation as a non-family member, and phone calls were prohibited for the same reason.
It was almost if the sanctions had carried over into your psyche, some form of cruel punishment that prevented you from hearing her even in your dreams.
At least you were able to see her at night.
You'd never grown used to the inevitable, debilitating dread that suffocated you each time you awoke, but you still looked forward to falling asleep each night, knowing it'd grant you a brief illusion of having Sofia by your side again.
"She's not here anymore."
You try not to think to hard about it, to instead appreciate the blessing of being graced with her voice, even if it was just subconscious. You tell yourself it's probably just a result of the weeks recent events; the flooding of Gotham city. The death of Carmine Falcone.
The impact of it all must have rattled you.
That's all.
But... you can't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more.
It's then that your phone rings on your bedside table. *BRRR*
You set your water cup down with a huff, shuffling your feet slowly towards your bedroom. You're in no rush to pick up. Who the fuck call at this time of night; and without warning?
In your experience, this meant one of two things: the call was your basic, run of the mill scam attempt, or a reporter who had found your number and was desperate for some kind of story. Not that you'd ever give them one, of course. Even when Sofia was still around, and your relationship was somewhat in the public eye, you never discussed anything with journalists of any kind.
After Sofia was sent to Arkham, the scrutiny on you had increased. You went from being the occasionally mentioned girlfriend of Carmine Falcone's daughter, to 'the woman who loved The Hangman.'
Generally, the public saw you as a pseudo-victim; someone who had been manipulated by The Hangman, paraded to maintain a false image, and used as a front to keep Sofia's cover. They didn't believe you when you claimed to have been with Sofia on three of the nights that those women were killed. "The poor girl- who knows what that woman subjected her to, to make her lie for her?"
The year following her arrest was the peak of your exposure. You were relentlessly assaulted with press whenever you went outside, and you had to change your cell phone number four times.
Everyone was dying for an inside scoop on what it was like to know The Hangman intimately.
By the second year, you were more comfortable leaving the house. You moved just outside of Gotham, and slowly, the pressure for statements and interviews died down the longer Sofia was away. You still get the occasional phone call, someone hoping that now that it's been 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years, maybe you'd be willing to share your 'story.'
You'd hang up immediately every time, until you got to the point where you just stopped picking up.
*BRRRRR*
You approach your bedside table with every intention to hit the reject button, squinting at the brightness of your screen in the dark of your room.
That's when you see the caller ID.
*000*
You pause.
So far, every telemarketer, every scammer, reporter, and journalist, were listed as either Unknown Caller, or a string of numbers.
The only time you received calls with three digit numbers was when it was Alberto.
A part of you hesitates. Alberto does this, sometimes, though it's become more sparse over the years: he goes on a bender, gets too in his feelings, and calls from a nurner phone and leaves you a barrage of voice and text messages. It's always the same, with him going on coked-up rant about how he's going to get Sofia out one day and wrong everyone who wronged her.
Outside of that, though, Alberto never called. When Sofia was sent away, Alberto had begun simultaneously spiraling and attempting to survive and thrive in the Falcone family. Between the drugs and job, Alberto became a lot more isolated than he used to be. Any attempt on your part to reach out wasn't successful. He stopped responding from the number you'd had saved, keeping communication one-sided.
Still, every week, you texted him the same thing at the same time. Sunday, 9AM, an hour before you knew Sofia had visitation hours. Tell Sofia I love her, please.
You'd never get a response, but you never really expected to, either. You had no way of confirming if he was seeing your messages. The only way you knew Alberto still even thought of you or knew your number was with the increasingly infrequent, triple digit ID calls.
Either way, the occasional drug fueled messages always left you feeling even more depressed. Knowing Alberto was suffering just as much as you didn't bring any sort of comfort; it just reminded you of your own pain.
*BRRRRR*
Between the unease from your dream and timing of the call, though, every instinct in your body is telling you to pick up the phone.
Your hands tremble as you clumsily smash the answer button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.
"Hello?" You wait with baited breath as you hear Alberto on the other side of the line. "...'Berto?" There's nothing but silence for a moment.
Then, you hear him clear his throat. "I, uh-" There's a pause, and a sniff. "I'm gettin' her out, [Y/N]."
You're heart pounds almost painfully. "Y-you mean-"
"Yeah," Alberto confirms with a disbelieving laugh, as if he can't wrap his own head around it. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time, confirming everything you've wanted, pleaded, prayed for, for ten years. "She's comin' home."
The news breaks two days later.
Two days of silence from Alberto after he dropped that fucking bomb on you.
You aren't sure if you're in shock, or if it literally hasn't quite hit you yet. Maybe it's because, despite a part of you accepting you'd never see her again, you always had faith in your heart that she'd come back to you. That naive hope kept you alive for ten years.
You aren't sure what to do with yourself, now. You've grown so accustomed to just... existing. Holding hope, with nothing to really do with it. This sort of feels likes that, but with more anticipation knowing what's to come.
Except, it doesn't.
She comes home, yes. You watch the reports about it, read the headlines, hear the outcries. But you don't see her. You don't hear from her, or Alberto, and you're resigned to waiting for one of them to reach out.
After a few days, you grew impatient. The anxiety you'd felt from waiting around had turned into a sort of panic, an all consuming need to make any attempt to quell your nerves.
Why hadn't you heard anything? Had something gone wrong? Did they forget?
You'd gone to the Falcone residence. It was fucking packed with news casters, journalists, rioters and spectators. It had taken you a while to shove your way through the mob, and when you had, you were turned away like everyone else.
You went back the next day, and the next, and the results were the same.
And then, Alberto dies.
You think the shock will return, but all you can think is Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Your Sofia. Your girl, who must be hurting so tremendously right now, who you can't cradle and comfort.
It seems your deep seeded need to be by Sofia's side reignites some of your more rational thinking, though, and you consider your options.
The crowds of cameras and protesters should disperse by the time the sun goes down, you'd assume, giving you more of a shot to see her.
So, you decide to return to the Falcone's late that evening, when the moon has settled and the stars are at their brightest.
Despite the time, it seems the family is well awake, as all the lights can be seen as you walk up the driveway. You hear voices, though you're too far away to tell if they're shouts from behind the walls, or conversations outside.
Soon, two of the guards notice you approaching. "Hey!" One hollars, hoisting up his gun as he stalks towards you. "What are you doin' here? You got business with Luca?"
You should probably be more concerned about the possibility of being shot by a paranoid guard, but your adrenaline is pumping too hard to care.
"Uh- no, I'm- I don't," you stutter. "I wanna see Sofia."
As the second guard approaches, you hear a soft chuckle. "Ah, yeah, I remember you," he drawls, before turning towards the other man. "Used to hang around Sofia," he explains to him, making the other relax his posture slightly.
"She's not available," the first one grunts, "probably won't be for a while."
Being turned down does little to deter you. "So she's here? Just, not available?" You ask hopefully. They don't get a chance to respond. "That's fine. I can wait."
You make a bold move to squeeze past them, speed walking over to the grand stair case in front of the house with purpose.
Behind you, the guards bicker. You don't hear what they say, outside of something about 'letting Ms. Falcone decide,' but based on the lack of pushback, you assume the one who remembered you was suggesting the other guard leave it be.
You're perfectly content to sit for as long as you need to. You've waited a decade for Sofia; you can wait a few hours- or even until the morning- to finally see her after all this time.
To your surprise, though, you only wait for about 45 minutes.
The front doors of the mansion swing open, and you hear the click of heels stomping down the steps.
"Fuckin' pricks," someone mutters, and you immediately recognize the voice.
Your heart leaps into your throat as you stand on shaky legs, and you can't turn around to face her fast enough. You almost lose you balance in the process, but catch yourself in time for Sofia to notice your presence.
She has a cigarette halfway to her lips as she stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face.
You blink.
She blinks.
"You're..." her voice sounds empty for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little, blinking hard a few times and huffing. "What are you doing here, [Y/N]?"
You open your mouth, but your brain is moving a mile a minute. Nothing comes out, and you just gape at her like a fish for a few moments. "Uhhhh..." you trail off dumbly, but you're too frozen to even feel stupid about it.
Sofia rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says as she resumes her walk past you, lighting up her cigarette as she does. "I'm not staying too far from here at the moment."
You practically trip over yourself in your rush to follow Sofia. It's a bit of a struggle to keep up with her pace, but you manage. The car is parked at the end of the driveway. A burly man is propped against the hood, and he moves around to the back door when he sees Sofia quickly approaching. He opens it for her with a quick acknowledgment as she slides in smoothly, and remains silent as you clumsily follow suit.
Sofia keeps her eyes fixed out the window as the man gets into the drivers seat. You can't help but stare at her, though, something akin to awe making it impossible to look away.
A few minutes into the drive, you see Sofia tentatively shift her eyes towards you. She looks on guard, as though unnerved by your eyes on her.
Still, she says nothing. Her gaze stays trained on the passing scenery for the remainder of the ride, like she's stubbornly making an effort to ignore your blatant staring.
Sofia hardly waits until the car is parked to unbuckle and hastily exist the vehicle once it's pulled in front of her building. You rush to get your door open, jogging a little to catch up to her.
You're paid no mind as Sofia struts inside and walks to the kitchen. It's almost like you're invisible, a silent, unseen witness.
Sofia moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, retrieving a glass and wine bottle that she pops open, pouring a sizeable amount. She takes a long, long sip, her head tilting back until the contents of her glass are almost completely gone.
Then, she sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she embraces the warmth of the alcohol.
Finally, she looks at you, indifference written all over her face. "You didn't give me an answer earlier," she states simply.
You take a small step forward. "Sofia..." You blink hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.
Sofia is looking at you. You see her. You hear her.
You take another step, and another, until your knees buckle in front of her. "Sofia," it's an almost reverant sound that makes Sofia inhale sharply.
She's so close.
You wrap your arms around her legs as you kneel before her, nuzzling against her thighs.
"Sofia," you say again, just as softly.
You can breathe again. After ten long, dreadful years, you finally feel like the air in your lungs is pure and real.
Sofia freezes. She's unsure of how to process this.
You're here. In front of her- willingly.
It feels wrong; you bowing before her when you have no idea who she is anymore.
"Cut it out," she mutters, lightly pushing your head away and taking a small step back.
You remain on your knees, looking up at her with half lidded eyes.
The adoration in them makes Sofia uncomfortable.
"Get off the floor," Sofia says, her tone indescribable. "You aren't an animal." She turns to top off her wine glass, takes a sip, and leaves the room.
It takes you a minute to gather yourself, but you slowly move towards the direction she headed in. You find her in a room down the hall, an open, office-adjacent space. She's sitting on a loveseat in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead as she sips away.
You pause in the doorway to observe her for a minute, wondering if she's aware that you've followed. You decide to let your presence be known, taking a few confident steps forward.
Sofia doesn't look at you when she speaks.
"Whatever you're here for," she starts, "you won't find."
"No," you find yourself saying. "No, Sofia, I..." you trail off as you come closer. "I... I just want you."
Sofia's jaw clenches. "You don't know what that means anymore," she spits, before taking another sip of her wine, attempting to grow the irrational anger brewing inside her.
There's a certain, panicked heat that comes over you then, feeling unheard and misunderstood. "No, no," you say hastily. "No, Sofia, please," you drop in front of her again. "Please, Sofia. I don't care what that- what that means. All I care about is you."
Sofia scoffs, her temper getting the best of her. She grips your hair without thinking, pulling your head off her lap to look up at her. "You want me to show you what it means?" She hisses, eyes wide and manic. "Okay. Take your clothes off."
You're momentarily stunned, not expecting Sofia's request. "What? Ah-!" Sofia yanks your hair again, gritting her teeth as she speaks. "Take off your fucking clothes," she repeats.
Her tone sends you into motion, and you scramble to remove your top. Sofia settles back against the couch as she watches you undress for her, keeping her features schooled.
Once you're bare, you shift on your knees a bit, unsure of what to do. Being naked in front of Sofia certainly isn't new, but, it's also been ten years since you've last been intimate with her. You never anticipated it happening again like... this. Sofia never acted this way with you in the last. Usually, she undressed you herself, slowly and with kisses on each inch of skin she revealed. She had been teasing, sure, but never so stern.
It stirred something in you that you couldn't place your finger on. All you know is, you certainly aren't complaining.
So, you stay still, not wanting to do anything without instruction lest Sofia decide she's no longer willing to entertain you. You bask in Sofia's predatory gaze, letting her drink in your exposed body.
Soon, though, you start to squrim a bit. It's not cold, per say, but the air was just brisk enough on your bare skin that you couldn't ignore the slight chill.
You shiver a little, and Sofia smirks.
"You cold?" She asks knowingly. Sofia keeps her eyes on you as she reaches for her wine glass, standing as she does.
You tense a little as she begins to stalk closer to you, a small sneer on her face.
She's behind you, now, but you don't dare to move your head, not even when you hear the clink of her wine glass on the ground. Instead, you stay still and complacent as Sofia picks up your discarded shirt and begins to wrap it around your wrists. You moan inadvertently at the feeling of her skin on yours, but Sofia takes a deep breath. She ignores the sound, instead making quick work of restraining your hands behind your back.
When she's done, Sofia picks her glass back up as she towers over you. There's a dark, empty look in her eye that sends a chill down your spine.
Sofia, of course, notices this.
She smirks. "Is that it? You chilly, sweetheart?" Her voice is patronizing and full of faux concern.
You're not sure if she wants an answer or not, but aren't given a chance to respond either way, Sofia suddenly splashing the remenants of the wine from her glass onto you.
You flinch, and gasp loudly at the cold sensation. You're hands instinctively move to rub at eyes in an attempt to clear your vision, but you find yourself tugging fruitlessly at the shirt Sofia had binded your wrists. The wine soaking your face and dampening your hair ends trickles down your body, erupting goosebumps in it's wake.
You're still blinking heavily in an attempt to normalize your seeing when hear a breathy cackle. You feel her pinch your jaw, a strong grip on you as she licks a filthy stripe up your face, lapping up the spilt wine. She releases you, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Sofia struts past you and towards the desk by the window. You can't see what she's retrieving, your eyesight blurry and unfocused.
By the time Sofia circles back, you've mostly regainedy your vision. You don't have any time to visually process what she has in her hand, though, as she wastes no time in forcing the barrel of her handgun past your parted, panting lips, and into your mouth.
"It's a terrible feeling. Isn't it?" The gun presses a little harder, and you cringe at the feeling of rough metal pressing against your tongue. "Nothing left to hide behind," Sofia drawls, her voice is surprisingly even, though her words feel weighted.
You blink up at her with an unnerving lack of fear.
Sofia bares on with a tilt of her head. "The guards at Arkham stripped us bare every morning," she states, and your heart clenches at the thought. "It was humiliating," Sofia continues, a subtle anger brewing in her voice with each punctuated annunciation, "being turned into a thing."
Sofia shoves the gun hard enough to make you gag, and presses forward until you're bending backwards. Sofia straddles you, her grip on the gun directing your movements. She has you sprawled on your back, hands twisted painfully under you, pressed between your spine and the hardwood floor.
Sofia lowers her face, her wild eyes inches from yours. "You think," she growls, "that I'm still who you knew?" She smiles, though there's no joy in it. "That I'm not just a thing?"
Apparently, it wasn't a rhetorically question, as Sofia yanks the gun out of your mouth.
You sputter for a second, before rushing to respond, "no," you gasp. "I- I don't expect you to- to be the same, Sofia, I don't." Your voice cracks a bit, and you pray that your eyes convey your earnesty. "I don't care that you- you don't feel like yourself, Sofia, if you feel different, now. I love you. I love you. I love you, Sofia," you insist, your voice soft.
Sofia regards you for a long minute, and you wait with abated breath to see how she'd react.
For a moment, you think she's heard you. Really heard, and believed you- believed in your unconditional love and devotion for her. There's a hopeful, but guarded look in her eye, something akin to a skittish street cat assessing if it should trust the hand reaching out to pet it. But, just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.
Sofia's features go hard again, and she moves her face away, straightening her back and kneeling over you.
"You don't get it," she says- simply, quietly, almost as if to herself.
You part your lips to protest, but Sofia is quicker, and slaps her hand over your mouth. "Don't," she warns.
Sofia hates it. The way you don't even struggle under her; the way you just take it, like you understand what this means.
Why don't you get it? Do you really not understand what kind of horrors she was exposed to? What they did to her; what they turned her into?
It pisses her off.
How dare you, how dare you, prance back into her life, expecting her to be untouched by the hell that was Arkham?
Do you think she's naive? That she'd truly believe, after all this time, you'd still want her? Want her for who she actually is now?
You don't even fucking know her anymore.
Fuck.
It infuriates her for so many reasons that she refuses to acknowledge right now.
Instead, she let's herself embrace the unbridled rage that's always threatening to erupt inside her.
"Alright!" She exclaims, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face. "You love me?" She taunts. "You think you want me?"
She shoves herself off of you to pull her underwear down her legs. You're heart thuds as she slips off her fur coat and hikes up her dress. Sofia easily drops back down, straddling your face and gripping your hair with one hand. "Show me, then." With that, she lowers herself completely, smothering your face in her cunt.
Your primal instincts kick in, then, and you press forward, your tongue eagerly swiping through her folds.
Jesus fuck, you think somewhere in the back of your mind. Finally, finally, finally.
You hadn't realized how much you craved the taste of Sofia until this very moment. It feels like you're starving, like you haven't eaten in ten goddamn years, and Sofia is the first meal you've been granted.
Your ministrations are messy and desperate. You can hardly think straight, overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sofia. All you do is lick and suck and moan, embracing the pure bliss you feel. The rapidly decreasing supply of oxygen in your lungs is easy to ignore when you finally have the privilege of pleasuring Sofia again.
Sofia's eyebrows furrow. You won't struggle under her. You won't look up with panicked eyes, even as she deprives you of air, even as she suffocates you.
You don't get it.
Sofia narrows her eyes and her hips buck forward. It's almost violent, the way she fucks your face, riding harder and harder. She grunts softly, losing inhibition as she watches her slickness spread all over your face.
Still, you only whine as though you're the one being pleasured.
Why don't you fucking get it.
Sofia tightens her grip in your hair, pushing your face impossibly closer against her cunt as she feels her climax approaching. She's panting harshly through her noise, controlling the means threatening to spill out of her.
Just then, your eyes slugglishly blink open and lock with hers. It's clear that you're moments away from passing out, and Sofia can only stare down at the dazed look in your eyes.
Still, there's no fear there. There's nothing but adoration.
Your eyes roll back, and your eyelids flutter shut. Sofia's breath hitches as your body goes limp under her.
It's then that she cums, her body tensing and jerking. A ragged moan escapes her as she grinds and grinds against you, using your unconscious body to draw the waves of pleasure out.
Sofia slumps off of you, sitting by your side as she recovers from the exertion. She just sits for a while, until her breathing regulates, and she gathers the courage to look over at you.
You're still passed out, but the slight rise and fall of your chest tells Sofia you are, in fact, alive.
It doesn't do much to relieve Sofia- not when there's a sick, familiar feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.
No.
Sofia squeezes her eyes shut.
This isn't supposed to matter.
This doesn't mean anything.
Sofia stands, and smooths out her dress. She can't afford to have regrets; to have... things that make her question herself.
That's not her anymore.
Sofia takes a deep breath.
She squares her shoulders, and doesn't spare you a second glance as she forces herself to leave the room.
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shantechni · 11 hours ago
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Related to your post about Mikey "accidentally delivering low blows when stressed" (Aug 2023) would you hc that it's related to his emotional awareness of his family? Like when he blamed Splinter for letting them go up to the surface, he would know Splinter was already questioning his decision to let them do that, or he calls Splinter out on not being affected by his mutated appearance (when Splinter looks uncomfortable being seen by humans/Shredder)? Basically, what are your further thoughts on it? Has he done this elsewhere?
The post in question for the curious cats
This compilation video as well because my big brain remembered me doing that and it's related to this topic and I meant to do a part 2
Oh, that behavior is 100% related to Mikey's emotional awareness. I'd hardly even call it a headcanon, it's just canon lol.
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After not only botching their first fight above ground but failing to stop two kidnappings on their watch, the boys immediately start playing the blame game by pointing out each other's rash decisions and dumb mistakes that led to such an outcome. Obviously, the idea of Splinter's decision being yet another mistake of the sorts was hanging somewhere in the air waiting to be grabbed at, but no one readily went for it as something that needed to be acknowledged as mistake. That's why it's so fascinating to see the writers establish Mikey right out of the gate as someone who isn't afraid to comment on Splinter's decisions and his emotional state when he's making those decisions.
He was certainly aware of their father's doubts concerning them going above ground for the first time because a comment like that doesn't just come out of nowhere.
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Granted, this instance was him speaking his mind in the heat of the moment and only realizing how much his words would sting after the fact (especially since they're the ones who convinced Splinter to send them off with their begging), but this becoming a continuous trend of his throughout the series further proves the fact of him being more aware of things than a lot of people pegged him to be.
In Mikey Gets Shellacne, his remark about Splinter telling him not to fret about his appearance when he could hardly bring himself to do the same can be interpreted as a more apparent example of him knowing more than he lets on. It's made rather obvious from the start of the series that Splinter wasn't keen on roaming the streets looking like a giant rat, but that's more of a show and tell deal where both the audience and the characters are left on their own to pick up on such an important yet minor detail. Splinter never tells anyone about his insecurity, nor does anyone in the series talk about it amongst each other, so a moment like this can be a bit jarring when it's framed as Mikey calling out Splinter's opinion on his own appearance.
Though the intent of his comment was to simply call Splinter old, the underlying insult is there and Mikey regrets saying something like that to their father of all people.
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Other than letting his frustrations get the better of him and unintentionally plucking at Splinter's insecurities, Mikey is greatly in tuned with the emotions of those around him and will usually pick up on any changes rather quickly. Take these two moments with, funnily enough, him and Splinter near the start of Serpent Hunt.
I previously posted the first clip as a funny little observation, but the scene is more intriguing than my jestful sentence made it out to be. Mikey's attention is split between hanging his goofy pieces of artwork on the wooden boards and listening to April as she announces how the restaurant is starting to look like a makeshift home. It's not until he turns around to joke with her about his drawings that he finally has Splinter in his sights, and his attention evidently begins to drift to Splinter as April is responding to his question (you can literally see his head following Splinter's movements while April is speaking to him😭). And just look at how taken aback he is by Splinter's melancholic expression being on full display:
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While Splinter answers Mikey by stating that he's concerned for Casey, Leo and Raph because they've been gone for a while, it's pretty obvious that's not all he's bothered by, and him not being subtle about his troubled mind like usual had enough flags raising in Mikey's mind for him to hop up from his spot. Once the scene transitions to the second clip, Mikey lingers with Splinter in the front of the restaurant while April ventures to the back in search of Donnie to check on his progress with the retro-mutagen, as well as to see if the others made it back yet. Mikey and Splinter decide to follow April as soon as Donnie utters Karai's name, and Mikey is visibly bracing himself for another look of heartbreak on their father's visage:
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Splinter moments aside, Mikey recognizes when something is up with his brothers and friends, as well as whether or not he should step in. Of course the prominent moments of him demonstrating his ability to calm Leatherhead and Raph down count among the times when he steps in, but the times when he chooses not to step in shouldn't be understated either.
Take the pre-intro scene in The Cosmic Ocean for example, when April breaks the silence and questions where Leo ran off to. We understand where Raph is coming from when he says that it can't be healthy for Leo to confide in a simulated version of Splinter since it could just make him miss their father more than ever, but Mikey suddenly pops from his laid back position off-screen and joins the conversation:
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He's knows as well as Raph that speaking with a simulation of their father isn't exactly ideal, but he also knows that Leo is used to coming home to confide in Splinter for advice whenever he feels his confidence as a leader beginning to waver. The whole gang knows all of this, but once again, Mikey's the only one to verbalize it. Sometimes people need to hear something so obvious outloud to really understand or remember its importance, and Mikey seems to know that best.
I don't really need to mention how his emotional awareness extends far beyond simply knowing when someone is down, or when he is or isn't in a position to help them, but it makes for a decent epilogue to this analysis so-
Him being the least (read: least) temperamental of his brothers automatically puts him in the position of a mediator when there's tension in the group, and it's common knowledge that he'd often go out of his way to ease that tension in his own ways. He sometimes makes jokes, both corny and intelligent, just to get everyone's minds off of the heaviness of a situation, even if that moment of reprieve only lasts for a minute. He attempts to break up fights before they get too far, which sometimes doesn't work because they're a stubborn bunch of turtles (literally the entire first five minutes of New Girl in Town lol), but his efforts are commendable and genuine.
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He's exceptionally conscious of changes in the atmosphere and a swing in someone's mood, which could go hand in hand with his sixth sense for weird Kraang stuff if you think about it. But all of this comes together to paint an undeniably clear image of Mikey having a great amount of emotional awareness, and just all around being one of the most emotionally intelligent characters of the series.
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steddieunderdogfics · 2 days ago
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METAMORPHOSES by fastcardotmp3
@fastcardotmp3
Rating: Explicit
161,752 words, 11/11 chapters
Archive Warning: No Warnings
Tags: Post-Season/Series 04, Trauma Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Touch-Starved Eddie Munson, Touch-Averse Eddie Munson, (yes both and yes he is going through it thanks for asking), Healing Sex, Slow Burn, (find your patience you will need it), Found Family, Post-Possession, Eddie Munson as Kas the Betrayer (Dungeons & Dragons), (not really but also sort of I'm doing my spin on it shhh), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleep Paralysis, (in a sci-fi sort of way), Eddie Munson Character Study, Protective Steve Harrington, Motorcycle Guy Eddie, mechanic!steve
Summary:
“I can’t— I’m— not safe, not safe—” “You are safe,” Nancy says. She’s so certain, right there on the other side of the door with god knows who else listening to his breakdown— she’s so certain and she doesn’t understand— “You aren’t,” he implores, and he’s not crying but he is and he’s also not breathing, but that wouldn’t make sense because he’s definitely still alive. Eddie knows what it is to be dead now and he knows it doesn’t hurt damn near this much. In fact, being dead doesn’t hurt at all when it’s put up against the fucking torment of waking back up in a body that doesn’t belong to you anymore. -- Vecna asks Eddie to share his body with a being called Kas, but Eddie never gets much of a say in the matter. In the aftermath, it's hard to remember what having a say in the matter means.
Thanks for the rec!
This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with 11/11 chapters.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
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shaunashipman · 2 days ago
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I know they don't watch anything but the buddie scenes, but they have to remember that the previous breakups were well foreshadowed? like we knew from the 1st minute ana was on-screen in s5 that things weren't going well, we knew from eddie's first mention of herin 5x01 that he wasn't feeling it. if tim was planning on breaking bucktommy up just a few eps into the season, their only scene so far wouldn't have been a cute flirting scene where buck is clearly besotted. they would have shown him as some sort of conflicted during it.
How the fuck is it ONLY YALL didn’t see this coming…. Only YALL are mad…. No one lied to you. Oliver didn’t lie to you. Tim didn’t lie to you. The show didn’t lie to you. The ONLY person who did was Lou. Don’t you remember. Tim said it. He was an ENTRY relationship. Lou said they called him for 4 episodes. To do bucks bisexuality arc. The early renewal just slowed it down. The end result was always going to be the same. 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡
Keep on crying🤡🤡🤡🤣🤡🤣🤡
first of all dumbass, maybe put quotations around the first part next time, i thought you were another idiot who couldn't figure out how to send copypastas properly and put your fake commiserating post and your ha-ha you lost post in the same ask.
i think the fact that the entire GA is also confused by the break-up says that it wasn't foreshadowed. and no, i'm not gonna take what was said at the very beginning of the arc when they didn't know how big the backlash from the GA was gonna be as indication of how the relationship was gonna end.
they didn't need to take the relationship into s8. they could have not brought lou back past his initial 4 eps. they could have done an off-screen break-up between seasons. i said they wouldn't because it would put oliver back on the hamster wheel which they said they didn't want, but then they went and did this and proved they're fine putting buck back on the wheel.
the GA doesn't read all those interviews. half the GA is still confused about whether the break-up is final or now because the show was that fucking unclear about it that they had to have the actors clarify in the interviews.
my only problem was giving the show too much credit with their writing, i thought it was better than this, but the GA seems to agree with me that this episode was ass, even outside of the break-up. i'm so sorry i had faith that tim knew how to properly plot out stories, i'll be sure to never put my trust in him again.
p.s that post of mine you (aren't) quoting up there? from 2 weeks ago. stop hate reading my blog babe. like, you won, what are you doing here? or have buddies made spreading hate their entire identity, and now you don't know how to actually have fun in your fandom? poor buddies all you know how to do is stalk the pages of ppl who are actually enjoying themselves, you've pavlov'd yourselves into being unable to get serotonin from your actual ship and can only get it by being a miserable cunt in ppl's inboxes. hope you fix that soon so you stop having to be that absolute loser that everybody makes fun of in the gc 🫶
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thinking about how the bridge of Heaven Help Us spends several lines mocking faith and Jesus' crucifixion ("I'll give you all the nails you need/cover me in gasoline") but ends with "and the punchline of the joke is asking/ Someone save us/ Heaven help us now..."
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the-somwthing · 6 months ago
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oh god I reached tag limit. Dear god. Should I make my own post or are my takes in the tags god awful and I should’ve kept them to myself 😭
(also I mistakenly said clethubs instead of cledubs cuz it flows better, ignore me Etho has nothing to do with any of this)
ok now that im watching scotts pov i can finally make the poll i want
#tbh my honest opinion is something I’m pretty scared to share with the world#but basically it’s that it wasn’t healthy but it literally wasn’t that big of a deal anyways#like if it was a long term relationship they’d have to work thru some things but seeing as they were in a death game that’d be a waste of#time. and even tho it wasn’t perfect they liked having each other. so yeah I agree with that other person where’s cute/unhealthy lmao#anyways on the topic of 3L FH being toxic can we talk about how literally all the 3L relationships are like that#like FH is Different from the others but whenever I think ‘what healthier relationship would notice the problems with FH’ I realize there i#none. except maybe Clethubs but I’ll have to rewatch. but I think they were fine from my memory then again my memory said that about FH too#but like Scarian? I think fans make it out to be wayy more toxic than it was but it still wasn’t a perfect healthy relationship.#treebark? idk why ppl praise it for being healthy. sure it was more of a Tragedy but it still wasn’t that great!!!#so basically I don’t think it was FH specific I think there was something in the water in 3L that made it toxic yaoi#and maybe our minds twist FH into being healthy because it was the closest to a domestic relationship as we could see#I will add to Clethubs tho that there was much going on with their secret girlfriend so that kind of taints it#if we wanna get deep into the meat of it I’d also like to point out that the reason we remember 3L FH being healthier than it was#might be because we thought of the life series back then slightly less as purely RP. so Scott’s teasing was purely OOC and their characters#were in love. because they said their characters were in love so that’s what we went with while their irl selves made fun.#I’m not saying that’s the Correct way to see it (tho I wouldn’t blame ppl for choosing that path) but it’s something we were all more likel#to believe back in the day. hence why we didn’t see Scott as abusive to Jimmy since it was the regular Timmy Teasing everyone is used to.#Scott wasn’t really an Exception to being mean to Jimmy at the time. I guess ppl just expected he’d act different cuz that’s his husband no#and I’m not saying Scott is RIGHT to be mean but I’m saying that it was NORMAL. hence why I believe Jimmy wasn’t rlly super negatively#affected by his toxic relationship with Scott. that’s sort of just the relationship they had previously. I don’t think he expected anything#different when he got married. I don’t think Jimmy moved on cuz he hated the way Scott treated him I think he moved on cuz he found better.#I mean truthfully I think he moved on cuz that’s literally how the game works LMAO but in terms of his future general hostility. which I’d#argue is mostly caused by Scott constantly bringing up FH when Jimmy’s like ‘3L was years ago 😐’#and again since probably DL he’s realized he can have better. in LL it was. the same as 3L lmao.#where am I. maybe I’ll- ah shoot I’ve realized this is too long. poppy make ur own post when?#anyways I still have more to add. I think Scott was only so controlling because it was a death game and he didn’t want Jimmy to die.#and called Jimmy incompetent cuz let’s face it that’s facts. NOT IN THE CURRENT DAY (he’s cracked) but back then OH MY GOD.#Jimmy’s improved a LOT is all I’ll say.#basically while all of Scott’s actions were pretty toxic within the context it’s understandable (death games/ur supposed to tease jimmy/etc#all this being said I need to rewatch Jimmy. I started his POV a while back and never finished meanwhile I’ve rewatched Scott’s out of orde
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dollerines · 1 year ago
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How I entered the void so easily after 1 year of trying
So after 1 year and half of trying to enter I finally did it and I am so mad because it REALLY IS SOOOOO EASY and tbh if in this post you are looking for any sort of validation or info you smart ass already know then please REMEMBER THIS : entering the void is extremely easy. You just have to do it in a way that resonates with you.
Personally for me since I had adhd I couldn’t just stay still and affirm for 1 or even a few for 10 mins. Not just because I was lazy but because just repeating “I am in the void” for so long gets me tired and makes me think of the void more and you actually don’t want to think too deeep about it. I couldn’t wake 3 hours prior and then affirm or even have the patience to do the psych k, yes I was extremely lazy back then and unpresistent but one thing that helped me even backed then was THE ALPHA STATE MEDITATION !
You just have to find what works for you, find a method technique whatever you want to do that doesn’t seem like a chore. So In a post back then I found on @gorgeouslypink acc talking about doing the alpha sate meditation and I tried it back then and I felt really relaxed and it was a good feeling but like I said back then I was realllly lazy so after a few mins I stopped. Then many months later passed and I was still looking for anything and everything on the void. Then just like two days ago I came across another post which was pretty simple and the technique I used was called the DISTRACTED TECHNIQUE.
All there was to do was the usual you get into a comfortable position and then she said to use the alpha state meditation and used the one gorgeouslypink recommended. So I used it and then what she tell you to do is to just think of anything else just get distracted basically and this WAS SO GOOD 4 ME because back then I had adhd so it made it harder to concentrate on just affirming and so yeah I just thought of random things and then at some point where I was completely distracted I felt my body like lift up 😭 if that makes sense I just can’t clearly describe it. It felt really like a shift and I was like ‘panicking’ in a way but I wasn’t actually panicking I just kinda became aware what was going and then I got scared a little but I just relaxed shortly after. Also my fan that was making like a loud noises was coming in an out and then I only hear it in one ear and then I didn’t hear anything and I just stayed there wondering if I reached the void and i actually was!!! I didn’t feel my body it felt like I had no body at all and it was pitch black just like how I imagined the void to be. For a few minutes I just stayed there feeling the most surreal peace I have ever felt. I needed that peace fr 💀.
So then I affirmed for my desires all I said was “I have all my desired results from my subliminal playlist.” Then just to be extra sure I just said “I have everything I want.”
At that point I got really excited and then I wiggled my toes to get out because I was too dam happy I needed to see all my shit the moment I wake up and then I slowly started getting out and when I tell you I cried for like a good dam minute when I woke up and saw how DIFFERENT. My room looked. I literally screamed onto my pillow. I was so dam scare and yet excited to see how I looked.
WHAT I MANIFESTED :
Desired body and face
Having silky straight tailbone length hair cuz mines was originally curly
And everything in my sub playlist
My desired boyfriend and guys I made him be like Gojo Satoru ( because we are all delusional over him 🤪) and let me tell you he is so tall, handsome, sexy and a literal god. He is so silly too 🩷
Moving countries I now live in ny
Never actually meeting my ex and all the people in my old school forget me and have actually never even met me. Like if u asked them about me they have never heard or known me before
Extremely rich rich like hella bands
Got rid of my anxiety and mental health issue
Plus +++
NEVER EVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS.
Even if the circumstances seem to be eating you alive don’t mind that too much. Even if all seems hopeless don’t give up because you already know nothing can decide or be unless you give it power to be. So stop being goofy and take responsibility and DONT STRESS!! You don’t see God stressing do you. All he has to do is blink and whatever he wants to happen, happens. Plus a lot of confidence came from non dualism that I owe a huge thanks to @trynafindbarbiee she really said it like it is !!
YOU GOT THIS ML 🩷🩷🩷🩷
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algae-tm · 2 months ago
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LOVE STORY
Max Verstappen x Author!Reader
Author’s Note: IM BACK!! To put things into perspective, I started this smau when Alex’s insta was still private! Tbh I started writing it cause I like love her, I can’t call her mother cause she’s like a month older than me, but that’s cousin right there. Anyways sorry for the hiatus i was spiralling due to a man 😔😔 it happens to the baddest bitches, and also sort of writers block so pls give me requests! But to make up for the fact that I’ve been gone, this fic is fat as fuck so enjoy
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alexandrasaintmleux just posted
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alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous gorgeous girls are published authors!!!! y/n, y/n! I remember when you used to force me to read when I wanted to play princesses and now you’ve written a goddam book!!! In awe of u 📕🥰🥰
(tagged y/nreads)
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yn.reads : ALEXXXX!! my gorgeous sister! I couldn’t have done it without you!! Love you endlessly!
— user1 : wait r they sisters???!!
— user5 : no! hope this helps.
— user6 : pls use your brain
— user7 : they’ve known eachother forever! y/n moved to Monaco when she was 4, so they refer to eachother as sisters.
charles_leclerc: bravo y/n! Well deserved
maxverstappen1: 👏🏻👏🏻
— user43: 🤨🤨
— user10: wait do they know eachother?
— user15: not as far as i know…
— user12: Max doesn’t even follow Alex, why is he here?
— user17: interesting 🤭🤭
— alexandrasaintmleux: very interesting…
yn.reads just posted
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yn.reads: @alexandrasaintmleux thank you for letting me shake ass on your yacht, and cosplay as a rich monegasque while doing it! Your support has meant the world to me, you’re the reason Everything I Know About Love was written, cause you have taught me everything I know about love, friendship, life! You can purchase my book in just under a week guys!!
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alexandrasaintmleux: I’m so proud of you baby xx
— yn.reads: i love you so much alex, i had to write 124,567 words to express it
— alexandrasaintmleux: 🥹🥹
—charles_leclerc: am i intruding on something?
— yn.reads: yes!
user12: no but Alex and y/n’s friendship is literally my favourite thing
user11: is y/n not a rich monegasque?
— user10: she’s not even from Monaco, and she grew up with a single mum who I’m p sure just has a normal job so no
user14: not y/n using Alex for her money
— yn.reads: do y’all never get tired? Or is hating on the internet like your job?
— user14: no I have an actual job you should try it sometime…
— yn.reads: girl???? I just wrote a book?????
maxverstappen1 : I will read this book
— yn.reads: thank you max verstappen, current f1 champion
— user16: 🤨🤨🤨
— alexandrasaintmleux: what am I witnessing rn
— yn.reads: 🙃🙃
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yn.reads just posted
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yn.reads: BOOKLAUNCHBOOKLAUNCHBOOKLAUNCH
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lewishamilton: 👏🏾👏🏾
— yn.reads: WHAT THE FRICK LEWISHAMILTON??? What are you doing here??????!!
— alexandrasaintmleux: girl you good??
— yn.reads: am I good?? AM IGOOD?? Lewis freaking Hamilton knows I exist!!!
— charles_leclerc: please stop embarrassing me in front of my coworkers
— yn.reads: kick rocks leclerc
pierregasly: well done, me and kika already have our copies
— yn.reads: 🥺🥺 thank you pear and kiks
alexandrasaintmleux: so proud of you mon ange
— yn.reads: I love you so much alex
— user12: their friendship is so cute I can’t
— yn.reads: friendship?? We’re lovers!
— user12: wait are you actually???
— charles_lecelrc: NO
— yn.reads: don’t be jealous sharl
charles_leclerc: well done I guess
— yn.reads: thank you I guess
— alexandrasaintmleux: aww my two favourite people getting along ❤️🥺🥺
— user12: I need my doctor to prescribe me whatever the fuck Alex is on EXPEDITIOUSLY
user14: girl no one gives a fuck about your book launch, we want to know wtf happened at the after party??!
—user15 wait, did I miss something what happened?
— user14: it’s all over social media but it starts with max and ends in verstappen
maxverstappen1: simply lovely
— user14: well well well
— user15: and she didn’t even interact with his comment
— user14: very interesting…
TWITTER
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MESSAGES
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maxverstappen1 just posted
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maxverstappen1: I’ve got a NYT bestselling author teaching me how to read
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charles_leclerc: I made this happen everyone! It was me! I did it!
— yn.reads: yes well done percy, we’re well aware
— user12: wait a minute Charles did something nice for y/n?
— user14: my moneys on the fact he was just trying to get rid of her so he could spend time with Alex
— charles_leclerc: what if i told you im a mastermind 😎
yn.reads: it isn’t much but it’s honest work 😔
— danielricciardo: has he learnt his abc’s??
— yn.reads: just about he gets stuck on x, it’s a very difficult letter
— danielricciardo: happens to the best of us 😞
— yn.reads: @/danielricciardo hey I actually have a question for you??
— maxverstappen1: NO!! Y/N DO NOT ASK UR QUESTION
— yn.reads: ☹️☹️
user16: is this a hard launch??
— user14: Idek anymore 😭
— user17: like knowing y/n she might actually just be giving him reading lessons
— maxverstappen1: guys of course I can actually read
— user16: yeah sure you can! That’s the spirit!
yn.reads: I bagged the baddest bitch y’all
—maxverstappen1: 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️💅🏼💅🏼
— alexandrasaintmleux: I thought I was the baddest bitch???
— yn.reads: oh my god… OH MY GOD, I didn’t think this through… @/maxverstappen1 what do you think of a throuple??
— maxverstappen1: NO
— charles_leclerc: NO
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fanficlolsblog · 2 months ago
Text
THE CO-STAR
back to my main masterlist
pairing: actress!reader x jenna ortega
summary: on the set of wednesday, Y/N and jenna ortega, who have an on-screen romance, face tension due to jenna's aversion to Y/N. during a heated kiss scene, jenna’s unexpected passion creates an awkward situation, leading her to avoid Y/N for the rest of the day. Y/N is left embarrassed and uncertain about their strained relationship.
warnings: none.
a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.
part 2
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The set of Wednesday buzzed with the usual hum of activity as cameras rolled and crew members scurried around. I, Y/N, had grown accustomed to the frenetic energy that accompanied a day on set. However, today was different. Jenna Ortega and I had another love scene to film, and despite our professional demeanor, there was a palpable tension between us. It wasn't the sort of tension that adds spice to a performance; it was more like an icy chill that made every interaction feel awkward.
Jenna and I had never quite clicked. It wasn't as if we openly clashed; it was more a matter of unspoken animosity. She rarely looked me in the eye, and when she did, it was with a cold, guarded expression. I had heard murmurs among the crew that she wasn't thrilled about our on-screen relationship, but I had hoped that we could set personal differences aside for the sake of the show. I wanted to believe that we were professionals who could separate our private feelings from our work. It seemed, however, that Jenna had other ideas.
Today, we were set to rehearse a scene where her character, Wednesday, pulls my character in for a quick, passionate kiss. Tim Burton, our eccentric and demanding director, was in high spirits, throwing his creative energy into every detail. But there was an undeniable undercurrent of tension as Tim directed us to run through the scene.
"Alright, let's do it from the top," Tim instructed, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Remember, this kiss is supposed to be intense, full of emotion. Wednesday is making a bold move."
Jenna and I exchanged a brief glance. Her expression was unreadable, but I could sense a tightness in her posture that suggested discomfort. As we moved into position, Jenna's cool demeanor was evident. She crossed her arms and took a deep breath.
"Action!" Tim called.
The scene required Jenna's character to seize the moment and pull me in for a heated kiss. I was ready; I had prepared for this scene, knowing it would demand a lot of us both. But Jenna, as she stepped in, seemed to carry an extra layer of reluctance.
As our lips met, I felt an immediate shift. What started as a forced peck transformed into something far more electric. Jenna's kiss was not just passionate; it was intense and fervent, as though she was trying to convey something beyond the script. Her hands moved from my shoulders to my head, holding me as if she were anchoring herself. I could feel the sudden and surprising intimacy of her touch. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I couldn't help but let out a soft moan, a reaction I hadn't anticipated.
The kiss felt like fireworks. Jenna was lost in the moment, forgetting the cameras, forgetting Tim's presence. Her lips were warm, her touch commanding. For a brief moment, it felt like she was pouring all her hidden emotions into that kiss.
"Cut!" Tim's voice rang out sharply, pulling us both back to reality. We pulled away, breathless. I could see Jenna's face flushed with a mix of surprise and irritation. I immediately felt a surge of embarrassment at the sound that had escaped me.
"I'm so sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning. "I didn't mean to—"
Jenna managed a forced smile. "It's all good."
But her tone was clipped, and I noticed that she was avoiding eye contact. The rest of the day was a study in avoidance. Jenna seemed to deliberately keep her distance from me. She spoke only when necessary and made no attempt to bridge the gap that had widened between us.
It was frustrating and painful. The dynamic had shifted so suddenly, and it was clear that Jenna's reaction to the scene was affecting her beyond just a professional level. Despite her earlier attempt to be courteous, it was evident that she was uncomfortable.
When we wrapped up for the day, Jenna's departure was abrupt. She didn't linger to chat or exchange pleasantries as she usually would; instead, she hastily collected her things and left without a word. I was left standing there, a bit dumbfounded and more than a little hurt.
In the quiet of my dressing room, I replayed the scene over and over in my mind. The kiss had been intense, and Jenna's reaction afterward was confusing. It was hard to decipher whether her reluctance stemmed from personal feelings or just the overwhelming nature of the scene itself. I knew that the kiss was supposed to be a dramatic moment, but it felt like it had crossed into something more complex, something that neither of us had anticipated.
I tried to focus on my work and the scenes ahead, but Jenna's avoidance was a lingering distraction. I hoped that with time, we could talk things through and address whatever had happened. It was clear that the kiss had stirred up more than just the usual performance issues. The intensity of the scene had somehow become a real and unsettling force in our interactions.
As I walked out of the studio, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of sadness and hope. I wanted to believe that Jenna and I could overcome this awkward phase. After all, we were both committed to making Wednesday a success, and that required teamwork and understanding.
But for now, the tension between us was palpable, and the road to reconciliation seemed long and uncertain.
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wileys-russo · 4 months ago
Text
forget me not (2) II l.williamson
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part one forget me not (2) II l.williamson
"mum i need to go."
"leah no-" but her mums words were cut off as the blonde clicked end call, fingers flying against her screen until she found your contact, call after call declined until it stopped ringing all together.
she then moved to texting, sending message after message until the 'do not disturb' notification popped up and her stomach heaved, you never put your phone on do not disturb.
her guilt peaked even higher noticing all of the messages above those she'd sent to you in a panic, clearly prior to your graduation and worrying about her whereabouts.
(8) iMessages from; lover girl 💐 hey baby i just arrived, you were dead to the world when i left (shock x) i'm kind of nervous! they just handed out our caps and gowns, its feeling really real now. what if i fall over when i'm walking up?? someone just put that thought in my head and now it won't go away 🥲🥲 i can't wait to just look out and see your pretty face, you can always ground me even without trying💘💘💘 *three missed calls* less just called me, she's leaving soon so i hope you're up and showering! i know you're not the best texter in the morning anyway grumpy 🫶🏻 we have to switch our phones off and leave them in our bags now babe but i'll see you in a little while. still so nervous ah! your support means everything, i love you leah 🩵
even though leah knew you were upset, the fact you hadn't made any attempts to call or message her after her no show only solidified it further for her, the blonde selfishly sort of wishing you had to ease her guilt even just a little.
"fuck!" the girl swore as she threw her phone on the passenger seat, burying her face in her hands with a deep and prolonged exhale. "okay think leah, think." she mumbled to herself, fists balling and rubbing against her eyes until she saw stars, head thumping back against the headrest.
grabbing her phone again she winced seeing the multitude of other missed calls, from alessia, your mum, your aunt, your best friend, all worrying that something had happened to her for her not to show up, the sweet messages from your mum checking in if she was okay hitting her in the stomach in a different sort of way.
"alessia!" she realized, quickly hitting call on the girls contact, feeling like an idiot for not even noticing her friends absence and putting two and two together, this was a brand new low.
"come on!" leah grunted, calling the younger girl easily six times and each one going right to voicemail, finger hovering over your mums contact before abandoning that idea with a shake of her head.
"shit." leah swore again checking your location and noticing you'd stopped sharing with her, biting down on her bottom lip as her knee bounced and her fingers drummed against the wheel wracking her brain for anything.
"fuck me leah where did she say the celebration was afterwards?" the footballer mumbled to herself, eyes squeezing close as she tried to think back, unable to even remember you mentioning your graduation in the last few days, another nail in the coffin of realizing she had been an awful girlfriend to put it lightly.
a sudden spark of hope she grabbed her phone again, clicking into instagram and huffing when both you and alessia hadn't posted anything, searching up several of your friends and families accounts finding the same wall of silence in her way.
growing even more desperate leah clicked into an app she checked maybe once a year, only keeping her facebook active for the sake of her childhood friends.
"thank you aunty gillian, thank you!" leah whispered as a quick scroll of her feed showed your godmother had posted some pictures from the graduation and the post ceremony celebrations, a quick zoom confirming the restaurants name on a menu on the table.
without another seconds hesitation she was putting the address into maps, car roaring to life as she peeled out of the colney carpark at top speed, flying across town and swearing loudly as she seemed to hit every red light in all of london.
"williamson." she barked to the valet as she screamed to a halt in front of the hotel where the restaurant was, throwing the keys at the young boy who didn't even have time to say a word before she was pushing through the double doors and bursting inside.
"m'am im really sorry you can't-" the hostess tried to stop leah as she barreled past, ignoring her completely and hurrying into the restaurant. it didn't take her long to find your closest friends and family on a big table in the corner, alessia spotting her before anyone else did and eyes widening.
though as leah came to a screaming halt in front of them, the table falling quiet as they took her in, still clad in an arsenal tracksuit with wet hair and frantic eyes looking as you would have said had you been present, a hot mess.
"no auntie ava its alright, i'll handle it." alessia murmured to your mum as leah shrank under the scrutiny and harsh glares from your friends and family, nobody impressed with her no show even if they didn't know the full story.
"you need to leave, right now." alessia warned, grabbing the blonde by her bicep and pulling her away from the table, around the corner and out of view. "less please i can-" leah started as the younger girl held up a hand.
"i don't care leah. i've just gotten her to calm down after she's just spent twenty minutes crying in the bathroom after her big day!" alessia warned, leah taken aback by the venom in her teammates tone, the girl normally so sweet butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
but there was one thing your cousin didn't mess about with, and that was family.
"she cried?" leah deflated, voice barely above as whisper as the taller girl nodded. "yes leah she cried several times, she's heartbroken that her girlfriend didn't show up for her graduation. but rather chose to go to the same training we have four or five times a week, she saw on instagram." alessia growled, poking accusingly at leahs shoulder.
"nope." alessia held up a hand again as leah opened her mouth to pour out another excuse or hurried apology.
"i told you leah, i don't care. she deserves to enjoy the rest of her day, you've ruined enough and done more damage than you can apologize for in the two minutes you've got to leave before i let my brothers escort you outside." alessia warned seriously, jaw clenched and still gripping harshly onto leahs arm.
"but less-" "leah, go."
but right as your girlfriend was ready to get on her knees and beg alessia to get her even one minute of your attention, you came stumbling around the corner in search of your cousin.
"baby-" leah started, falling quiet with a hiss as alessia sharply pinched her and moved to put her body in between the two of you like your own personal security guard.
"you have some nerve!" you laughed, leah frowning at the slur in your voice and the way alessia hurried to catch your swaying body, shooting the older blonde a filthy glare over her shoulder as she steadied you and mumbled something in your ear.
"no i know. i'm done crying over her!" you responded, leah swallowing hard as her knees buckled with how much anger was ablaze in your eyes as your gaze moved back toward her.
"you're a little late." you mocked with a pout, voice dripping with sarcasm as your eyes burned holes in your girlfriends head, trained on her like lasers.
"bubba please if you just-" "don't leah, don't call me that." all the anger seemed to deflate out of your voice at that, the obvious hurt and betrayal in it wrapping around leahs heart and squeezing tight like a fist.
"i don't want to hear the excuses, or the apologies, i don't even want to look at you leah. i have never been so let down or dissapointed, hurt, angry, sad." you listed off every emotion which was wracking your body, pausing for a moment and swaying a little leaning into alessia more.
"i have been there for you, for everything leah. i was there by your side every day when you did your acl, through the rehab and recovery good times and bad. i didn't leave when you yelled, when you snapped, when you hurled insults just for helping because i knew you were hurting and you weren't lashing out at me." you shook your head as leah felt sick to her stomach.
"i was there for you during the world cup. i stayed in england to be there for you, watching my own cousin playing the tournament and living out her dream through a phone screen, not daring to mention the games because i knew you were devastated to miss it." you paused to swallow the tears which brimmed at your eyes.
"i have put up with a lot of shit leah, dismissed a lot of things because i love you. but this...this isn't something i can sweep under the rug and excuse because you're hurting and i want to support you. today i needed you, i needed you to support me and you couldn't even do that." you whispered, wishing you had another drink in hand for a spike of liquid courage which was bleeding rapidly out of the open wounds your girlfriends actions slashed you with.
clearing your throat you continued, tilting your chin up a little higher. "less already took me past our place and i grabbed a bag of stuff, i'm moving in with her for awhile. i don't want to see you, hear from you, nothing, until i am ready leah. i never thought you of all people were capable of hurting me like this, now please go." with that you turned around, stumbling slightly but catching yourself with a sharp inhale and marching back off to the table.
"no. leah you heard her, you need to leave." alessia's hands pressed against her chest as she tried to follow after you.
"like i said, you can go on your own terms leah, or i'll get my brothers." your cousin warned seriously, leahs mouth opening and closing before she gave in with a nod, turning and walking away.
~
"its another one for you!" you looked away from the football match your cousin was currently forcing you to watch, alessia appearing seconds after the bell had rung with another bunch of flowers as you got up with a sigh.
"she's consistent, you've gotta give her that." alessia shook her head as you took the flowers from her, perching herself on the arm of the lounge as your eyes scanned over the card.
"we look like we own a florist shop." your cousin commented, eyes roaming over the countless bunches of flowers littering the living and dining rooms.
"i've texted her telling her to stop!" you shook your head placing down the bunch with a deep seeded sigh, dragging your hands down your face. "what are you thinking?" your cousin asked knowingly as you wandered back toward the lounge, collapsing into it as she spun around on the arm to face you.
"i don't know." you exhaled honestly, face buried in your hands as alessia kicked you gently, looking down with a raised eyebrow. "its been two weeks and i miss her." you admitted honestly, sitting up with a slight grunt.
"but i'm also still really hurt and upset and there isn't an excuse under the sun she could make that would help that go away." you added on, grabbing a throw cushion and pushing your face into it with a scream.
"would you consider hearing her out anyway?" alessia asked, playing devils advocate as you looked back up with another sigh. "yes? no? maybe?" you groaned, laying back down on the lounge in a world of indecision.
"sounds like you want to. but you're a little scared of what that might mean? just hear her out, it doesn't mean you have to go running right back into her arms but it'll mean you're not sitting here wondering what it is she has to say." your cousin read you like a book with a small smile. "i hate that you're always right." you shook your head as alessia chuckled.
"just looking out for my little piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed, a grunt leaving your body as she dove on top of you, pinching your cheeks and shaking your head side to side before rolling off of you.
"you know i can very easily smother you in your sleep russo."
none the less you took her advice, reaching out to your girlfriend? ex girlfriend? you weren't even sure what the two of you were at this point given you'd had practically no contact for the last fortnight.
which is how you found yourself a few days later taking a deep breath, hand on the door to the coffee shop you'd agreed to meet up with her at, steadying yourself with a nod before you pushed it open.
you spotted her right away, her eyes trained on the door and hand raising to wave you over the very moment you stepped inside. "i got your usual, sorry the ice melted a little...i was early." leah started with a slight blush as you sat down, pushing the iced latte across the table.
"thanks." you gave her a small smile, taking a sip as an awkward silence settled between you two. "should i start? is that okay?" leah blurted out suddenly, knee bouncing nervously as you nodded and she exhaled shakily.
"i'm not going to waste your time making excuses or apologizing over and over or grovelling." leah started as you quirked an eyebrow and sipped at your drink, curious where she was going with this.
"i'm just going to be honest instead, get right to the point. baby i was a selfish blind asshole, to say the least. i took you for granted. i did not support you even a tenth as much as you did for me. i don't deserve you, i don't deserve a second chance." leah paused, meeting your eyes for a moment as you nodded for her to continue.
"i forgot about your graduation, i didn't care enough to remember despite all the little hints you left me that you shouldn't have even needed to. theres no nice way to say it, theres no excuses for it, no lies. i didn't prioritize you, i didn't respect you or your achievements or put your needs above my own when thats all you've ever done for me." leah sighed, fiddling nervously with her hands in her lap.
"i was so blinded by the joy of being back on the pitch, kicking a ball, being with the girls again. all i was focused on was making the roster for camp, returning back to glory and my captaincy and playing full games for arsenal again." leah admitted, neck and ears flushing hot with embarrassment.
"but nothing, not football not arsenal, not anything, should ever take priority over me being a good supportive life partner and girlfriend. you were right you have put up with so much from me, done so much for me, pushed aside your feelings and your problems to put mine first, and i couldn't even do that for a day when you've done it since the moment we got together." leah continued, shaking her head disappointed with herself.
"love there isn't enough apologies in the world that i can ever say to make up for it. obviously i am incredibly sorry, but you deserve better than words you deserve evidence and action and commitment." you were taken by surprise as leah suddenly stood.
"if you will please please please just come with me for a quick drive i have something for you." she hesitated for a moment before offering you her hand, a confused and skeptical frown on your face as you sized her up.
"its not more flowers, is it?" that caused a small smile to make its way onto the blondes face as she shook her head.
"no, no more flowers."
~
"seriously? leah this is all very weird." you shook your head as she pulled up outside your shared home, a place you'd not stepped foot in for just as long as you hadn't seen your girlfriend for, holding out a blindfold.
"i know i know i know. and i'm sure you don't right now which is completely valid, but i need you to just trust me and put this on." leah bit her bottom lip sheepishly as you sighed, giving her a hard look before snatching it out of her hand.
"no! i've got it." you smacked away her hand which tried to help, tying it up yourself as your heart rate sped up the moment your world was plunged into darkness.
"can i grab your hands? please?" you heard the car door open and flinched a little, nodding slowly as you felt leahs warm hands interlock with your own, pulling you up to your feet as the car door closed behind you.
"step, step, rock, puddle, another step, three more steps, gate." leah announced each reason for moving you, your frown deepening as you realised she was leading you around the side and toward the backyard, ears straining and senses heightened trying to work out what was going on.
"leah!" you huffed as you tripped and almost fell, strong hands steadying you as the blonde winced. "sorry...one more step."
"okay, i'm taking the blindfold off now." leah sighed shakily, and you felt her hands trembling slightly as they fumbled around clumsily with the knot on the back of the blindfold.
but persisting she finally got it, wincing as it slipped away and the sunlight struck you in the face. but that was nothing compared to how high you jumped at the large yell which sounded next, your hand coming to cover your mouth.
"happy graduation!"
"what? this is..." you trailed off, all of your friends and family and colleagues gathered around the backyard, fairy lights strung up in trees and a long table splitting the yard in half decked out with flowers and food and candles.
you tensed as leah grabbed your hands again, moving to stand in front of you with a smile. "i know i ruined your special day by not showing up for you. but you deserve to have your achievements celebrated in a way even half as big and special as you are, and everyone who knows you and loves you agrees, and they're here to show that to you." leah explained softly, another cheer ringing out from the crowd in your backyard as you both looked across with a laugh.
"you organised this?" you asked as leah nodded, letting go of your hands. "i'm not asking you to move back in tonight and forgive me right away. but i hope this is a step in the right direction to me showing you that you mean more to me than anything in the world, and i was such a fucking idiot to take that for granted." leah promised sincerely as your features softened.
"thank you." you caught her off guard by pulling her into a hug, admittedly melting into her taller form as you held one another tightly, your guests all turning back into their own conversations as music started up and chatter floated through the air.
"you're very very welcome. now go and be celebrated!" the blonde pulled away and gently pushed you toward the crowd, smile on her face as you nodded, turning and stepping toward your parents first who cheered and handed you a flute of champagne.
"did you know about all of this?" you tugged your cousin aside around an hour later once you'd made your rounds greeting and chatting with everyone, the sun setting as leah was busy setting up the catering she'd organised for dinner, lia by her side helping out as a fair few of the arsenal girls hung about, good friends with you through both leah and alessia.
"who do you think helped her grovel for forgiveness with the whole family?" alessia smiled knowingly, sipping at her drink. "the whole family?" you asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as your cousin nodded.
"mhm, had me gather everyone at your mums place and she stood in front of them all delivering a speech about how much of an idiot she is and how much you mean to her, and how first and foremost she wanted to make up for ruining your day, even if it didn't mean you'd take her back." alessia explained as you glanced at leah over her shoulder, a small smile curling into your lips at the way she helped your nephew dish up his food, chattering away to him and pulling silly faces making him giggle.
"was it brutal?" you asked with a chuckle, alessia wincing. "horribly horribly awkward. nonna ripped into her, then your mum, then my mum, then your brother, then my brothers, then-" alessia recounted as you cut her off with a laugh.
"okay okay i get it, we have a very tight knit family who clearly have my back." you smiled with a shake of your head. "we do. but they all agreed to come, and that when she's not being an insensitive stupid idiot leah is crazy about you." alessia spoke a little more softly.
"go talk to her." your cousin kissed your cheek, slipping her drink into your hand and taking your empty one, pushing at your back encouragingly as you sighed and let your feet lead you over to her.
"hey, can we talk?" you asked, leah practically dropping the plate of food in her hand with a nod, hurrying after you as you made your way up the back steps and inside, wanting a little more privacy than your backyard full of friends and family provided.
"is this all okay? is it too much? did i do too much? less warned me not to go overboard and i know i said no more flowers but obviously theres flowers here and i got catering from your favorite restaurant and it took me days and days to get everyone to agree to come and then-" tired of her rambling you leaned in, pressing your lips against her own and effectively silencing her.
"i-okay." leah blinked in shock as you pulled away, a small smile of amusement on your face. "first of all, this is very very sweet leah, its perfect." you assured with a firm nod, leah visibly sagging in relief.
"second of all...i want to come home, tonight." you held up a hand as the blonde perked up and opened her mouth, snapping it right closed. "this doesn't fix everything leah, i'm still hurt and its going to take time for me to trust you properly again" you warned as the defender nodded eagerly.
"but we can't work on things unless we're together, and i have missed you." you admitted quietly, the words scary to confess but knowing you needed to be honest. "i've missed you so much, like...so so much." leah breathed out shakily making you smile.
"but promise me one thing?" your hands came to cup her face as she nodded.
"no more apology flowers leah for like...a long time." you grinned as leah let out a laugh of surprise, hands falling to your hips and drawing your body into hers, eyes searching you face as you nodded knowing what they were looking for, her lips sweetly pressing a few times against yours.
"i promise."
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elronds-meleth-nin · 2 months ago
Text
A Brush With...Kindness?
This idea came up in a discussion with @bigblissandlove1, so credit to you, my dear friend!! Thank you for being okay with me writing it! ILYSM! Thank you for screaming over both versions of Adar with meeee 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Also holy shit, this was supposed to be like...2000 words and ended up as almost 12000. 💀
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Adar (RoP) x Reader
[A/N: This has smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Mentions of violence (not discussed in detail), blood, bloodplay, threats, knives, swords, Adar in the winter, both soft!Adar and stabby!Adar, interspecies sex, Uruk/Human sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), angst, much yearning, nudity, I feel like I'm forgetting something but I have no idea what because holy fuck this is almost 12000 words.
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~*~
I knew his face from the moment he and his Uruks flooded into our village. Pillaging and looting where they could, murdering those who fought, the Uruks caused havoc. He strode in with them, looking as serene as the Elf I'd mistaken him for when I was a child.
How lucky I'd been that he'd chosen peace all those years ago. My father was a trader who traveled between Lindon, Eregion, and several villages inhabited by Men. Between the last of those villages and the borders of Eregion, we'd stopped to make camp for the night.
While my father set up our tent and tended to the horse, he asked me to gather some small sticks for the fire. I set off to do so, but in my quest for kindling, I ended up farther away from him than I'd intended with an armload of sticks large enough to make me stagger. Just as I'd begun to turn back, there was a small rustling from behind a bush a few feet away. I turned just in time to see a figure rising to his feet.
Tall, intimidating, covered in dark, aging armor, with scars on his face stood an Ellon. I let out a small, childish sigh of relief. I'd been afraid it might be a bear or an Orc or something fearsome, but it occurred to me that the presence of an Elf must mean that we were close to Eregion.
"You should not wander alone, little one. There are Uruks lurking in this forest," he said, and I noted that he sounded strange. Most Elves had voices that flowed like silvery musical notes, but his was raspy and low, as if he'd screamed for so long that he'd hurt his throat. Maybe he was a soldier, I'd thought. After all, they shout orders all the time.
"I'm not alone," I said lifting my chin as proudly as only a child could. "My father is not far from here."
He did not look convinced, yet still he offered me a smile.
"Perhaps, then, my lady, I could help you with your load?" He asked, and as I'd never been called 'my lady' before, I was not eager to disabuse him of the notion. He relieved me of my bundle of sticks, and together we began to walk back toward the camp my father had set up. After a few moments of comfortable quiet, I posed a question.
"What is an Uruk? I've never heard of one before. The word sounds sort of like 'Orc' if you say it too quickly..." I mused, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Vaguely, I wondered if his scars hurt him, but I did not think it polite to ask. At ten years old, my father had taught me manners enough to know that if a person wanted to talk about something like that, they should be the ones to bring it up.
"An Uruk is the correct name for an Orc," the Ellon said. "The words became...confused long ago. Not many remember their real name."
Oh. Well, that made sense.
"There are two people who know, now," I said smiling up at him, and he looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"That is kind of you, my lady, but you must not use that name around the Elves. They do not take kindly to having their mistakes paraded before them," he said, and that confused me.
"But...you are–"
The crunching steps of heavy boots in the underbrush startled me, but instead of an Uruk appearing from the trees, it was just my father.
"There you are! I told you not to go too far," he said striding up to me and wrapping me in his arms. He placed a kiss atop my head and only then did he turn his gaze upon my companion. Straightening, he glared suspiciously at my new friend. "Who are you? I've never seen Elvish armor quite like that."
His tone was less than kind, and, remembering my manners, I spoke up on my friend's behalf.
"Be nice, papa! He was helping me," I said. My new friend shifted the bundle of sticks to one arm, and placed his hand over his heart, inclining his head in a respectful bow.
"I intended her no harm, sir. There are many perils in this part of the forest and I wished to ensure she would not encounter danger," he explained. "Besides, a bundle this large was certainly more than a lady of her status should have to bear."
He offered me an exaggerated, deferential bow that drew a giggle from my lips. After a mere moment's hesitation, my father invited him to our camp to keep warm, since the woods grew quite cold at night. Looking back, it was obvious that he was incredibly patient with my childish questions as the three of us settled in to pass the night. Our evening meal stretched easily between three mouths, even though our new friend said that he did not wish to diminish our supply of food. We could not simply let him starve.
I woke in the middle of the night to low, whispered voices at the treeline. Carefully, I peeked through the flaps of my tent and saw two shadowed figures around the flickers of a small lamp. One stood tall, and the other hunched over.
With my father still slumbering soundly in his bedroll, I made a decision of which he surely would have disapproved. As quietly as I could, I slipped out, sneaking through the shadows of the trees until I could just make out the face of the taller person in the lamplight.
Our Ellon friend? What was he doing out here? Shifting slightly, I caught sight of the second person and–
I nearly tripped over myself to get back to my tent. He'd been speaking in a strange rasping, mean-sounding language to an Orc - or, an Uruk, as he'd called them.
I wasn't frightened of him, despite what I'd seen. Curiosity still reigned in my mind, but I still did not relish the thought of being caught eavesdropping. The next morning, I rose quite early, only to find that our guest was already gone.
"Don't look so distressed, love," my father called from his seat beside the fire. "He left this for you along with his apologies for leaving before you woke. He said his children needed him."
He held out a small piece of dark metal. It had clearly come from his armor. Carved within it was a set of stars, inlaid with some other tarnished metal.
"He said it was the symbol of the Noldorin Kings. He thought you might appreciate it and that it might serve to remind you of the conversation the two of you had," my father explained, though he looked a bit puzzled. "What conversation did he mean, if I may ask?"
As I looked at the small metal piece, it occurred to me that if he had not told my father, then perhaps there was a reason. My father might react poorly to the word 'Uruk' like our friend said the Elves would, simply because he worked so closely with them.
"He said it was dangerous to walk alone," I said, and though it wasn't a lie, it was not the whole truth, either. I'd never had reason to lie to my father before, and I hoped I would never need to again.
That night after we rode into Eregion and settled into our chambers, by candlelight I found the second symbol. Carved onto the back of the item he'd given me, there was what looked like a three-pronged shape. A tool perhaps? A maker's mark?
I wouldn't see that shape again until many years later when Lord Adar took our village. The armor piece which I'd turned into a necklace years before hung around my neck, almost burning beneath the bodice of my dress even as I averted my eyes from our new lord's.
When the morning came, we were all herded into a line leading to the steps of the tavern from which Adar was currently ruling over us. Those who refused to swear loyalty to him were summarily killed by the Uruks guarding us. When my own turn came, I dropped to my knees as all those before me had done.
Strangely, though, even as I looked up at him, I still couldn't find it within me to be afraid of him. Of death? Naturally, I was frightened, but I could not muster the same feeling regarding the Uruk lord. His eyes met mine, and his lips parted as if he recognized me.
An old man grasped my hair roughly, forcing my head down into a more subservient position.
"Do you swear allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks?" He asked, but before I could answer either way, his tight grasp on my hair was suddenly released. "M-My lord?"
"She has already sworn for me," Adar rasped above me, and I tried not to look confused as he urged me to my feet. He reached toward me, and to my astonishment, his fingertips brushed against the pendant that had come loose from beneath the top of my dress. The one he'd given me years ago. The back with the three-pronged carving was visible because the chain had twisted. "She already wears my mark. You will not brand her, is that understood?"
"Yes, my lord," the grumpy old man said, but I could look nowhere save into the same green eyes I'd seen all those years before. I couldn't help but think about how beautiful they were.
"I shall see to the rest tomorrow, Waldreg. See that they're fed and have a place to sleep," Adar ordered. Grasping my elbow, the Lord Father of the Uruks led me away from the crowd. Once we were safely inside one of the ruined buildings, he clasped my upper arms and looked into my eyes. "I thought I told you it was dangerous to wander alone, my lady."
His voice was infinitely gentler than it had been before.
"I'm not alone," I whispered, "not when I have you."
Looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and something far too soft to be on an Uruk Lord's face, he stepped closer and carefully rested his forehead against mine. The scent of smoke and metal, earth and wood oils surrounded me, and I recognized the scent, faint though it had been, from that day in the woods.
He muttered something in the low, guttural language that the Uruks used, and though I had no idea what he'd said, the sound of it sent my heart racing in my chest.
"I thought I'd never see you again," I admitted in a whisper, and he let out a slow, almost sad sigh.
"I had hoped that you would never have need to," Adar murmured in return. When he spoke again, he sounded almost resigned. "If you wish to leave, I can arrange safe passage for you."
I considered the possibility for a moment. My mother and father were living peacefully in Eregion, thanks to the kindness bestowed upon them by Lord Celebrimbor. I could certainly go there, but...was that what I wanted?
"And...if I wanted to stay?"
Pulling his head back just far enough to look into my eyes, Adar seemed as though he both was and was not surprised at my question.
"You would be allowed to do so, of course, but you must understand that this would be a hard life," he stated. "I cannot offer you any luxuries, not like those found in Elven territory. Mordor is new. We have very little. We have not even completed the construction of our own homes yet. Is that truly the life you want? Barely getting by on scraps of food, sleeping in the ruins of an old building?"
"I can bear it," I reassured him, and he seemed to consider my words as his fingertips once again traced the chain of my necklace.
"I will not make you swear your loyalty, my lady, but I would like your word that if at any point you feel as though this life is intolerable or overwhelming, you will tell me," he murmured as his eyes met mine again. "I would not see your light dimmed by such a place as this."
Gently, I laid my hands over his.
"You have my word, my lord," I murmured, and he nodded his head slowly.
"Then, welcome to Mordor, híril vuin."
--
She'd been different since the day they met. Oh, she was likely an average member of her species, but Adar had little personal experience with Humans beyond the occasional interaction. Her openness when she was a child had been endearing, especially since she hadn't thought him frightening or hideous. She'd accepted him as he was without question - even going so far as to protect him from her father's suspicion.
After she'd caught him speaking with Glûg in the middle of the night, ordering his children to leave her and her father be in Black Speech, however, Adar had thought that she'd have told her father what she'd seen...that he would be met with an arrow to the chest upon his return to their camp. Instead, she'd managed to sneak back unnoticed, and he'd taken his leave before she awakened.
Never did he think that one day as a grown woman - a lady - she would be forced to kneel at his feet. Not even with the threat of death looming over her was she afraid of him.
He'd never wanted her fear. When she was a child, he'd savored her curiosity, and now, as an adult, he found that he relished her gentleness and her acceptance. She'd been courteous to all of his children whom she'd encountered, even if such behavior earned scorn from the other Humans in their encampment. She never cowered. She never diminished herself to fit into the dull little boxes that the others of her species so consistently tried to force upon her. She was unique.
And Adar found himself growing ever more intrigued by her.
The winter wind whipped clothing, biting the skin and sinking bone-deep. Like most discomfort, Adar was used to it. He knew every survival method - one did not live for thousands of years without picking up a few helpful practices. His children had followed his example, but it was a bit harder for the Humans among them to find comfort.
Truly, though, the only one he cared about was his lady...his brave, determined lady. He remembered her looking up at him the better part of a year ago when she was forced to the ground before him. Curiosity and recognition was as obvious in her expression as the points on an Elf's ears.
Even after he'd taken their village, she hadn't hated him. She hadn't denied having sworn for him, even though that had been a lie he concocted to keep her safe and unblemished.
Seeing that remnant of his armor hanging from a chain around her neck had inspired more pride and awe in him than he'd felt in an Age. Adar had assumed that even if her father had given it to her, it was so small and insignificant that she wouldn't have bothered to keep track of it. But for her to have turned it into a necklace... The thought still sparked a wave of warmth in the Uruk's heart.
Had their encounter truly been that memorable to her?
As the bitter winter held the camp in its grip, residents and all, Adar walked amongst his children and sworn Human villagers alike, noting those things which were needed most. He turned a corner between rows of tents and half-built houses and paused at the sight of his lady and Glûg discussing the babe in the Uruk's arms. After a few moments, his lady let out a small laugh, and Glûg let out a rasping chuckle before departing with a small bow.
Before he could behave as if he'd been doing anything - anything at all - besides watching them, she turned and Adar's eyes met hers. Approaching without hesitation, she curtsied and greeted him with her customary 'good day, my lord.'
Dropping into his own low bow, Adar offered her his arm.
"Walk with me, if you would, my lady," he murmured, and she looped her arm with his. "How would you characterize the mood amongst your people here?"
They walked a few steps, she considering her answer, and he marveling at how easily they fit together. Having her at his side felt natural, as if that was where she was always meant to be.
"They are under strain, because of the winter temperatures. Perhaps they are a bit more frightened than usual, but nothing too serious," she replied. "They seem to have settled into their new routine along with your children quite well, considering the circumstances."
"And what of your own circumstances? What can I do to ease your burden?" He asked as they reached the door of her shelter.
"I can think of nothing, my lord." Adar did not believe that, but he did not contradict her, choosing instead to accept her invitation inside.
"Allow me, at least," he said as he stepped inside, "to check your supplies. Firewood and the like."
"Of course," she murmured, waving him inside. One of the other ladies who shared her living space had already lit a fire in grate, and as soon as they saw Lord Adar walk inside, they quickly found other places to be.
Pretending to take a cursory view around the room, Adar slyly watched his lady move around, tidying up, even though the messes had clearly been created by the others. That he did not like, but that was a problem for a later date.
"Are you certain there is nothing I can do to improve your situation?" He asked, and she flashed him a smile bright enough to make his heart skip a beat.
"Nothing, whatsoever. I'm quite comfortable here," she said walking to stand with him beside the fire. He took a long, selfish moment to indulge his desire to study her face. When his desire to reach out and touch her grew so strong that he felt he might snap, he drew and released a deep breath.
"Thank you for your indulgence, my lady. I shall leave you in peace."
Adar gave her a small bow before making his way toward the door.
"Oh, wait! Please, my lord," she called, and he turned to face her. She pulled a length of cloth from a bundle, hurrying over to him.
A familiar sense of dread curled in his abdomen. He'd been betrayed before in moments of weakness - seeing her this evening was certainly a weakness. The cloth would make a suitable garrote for a person of her size to use. Steeling himself as she approached, he realized that, though he wouldn't be surprised, her betrayal would hurt more than any other had.
He met her eyes with his as she stood on the tips of her toes to wrap the cloth around his neck...but the constriction he'd been expecting never came. Instead, she tied it carefully, tucking the ends into his armor so they wouldn't flap around in the wind.
Adar's gauntlet-covered fist relaxed as his defensiveness was replaced with confusion. He was certain that he must look as utterly befuddled as he felt, but the little smile that settled upon her lips as she examined her handiwork stole his breath.
"There. That should keep you a little warmer, at least. We cannot have the Lord of Mordor freezing, now can we?" She asked when her fingers finally fell away from the chestplate of his armor. Adar found speech difficult for a long moment. She cared for his comfort?
How was one supposed to tell someone that they'd expected death's shadow only to find kindness instead? How could he possibly explain to someone like her that at the sight of a simple makeshift scarf, he'd coiled himself as tightly as a warrior preparing to be struck without a shield or sword to defend himself? She was so considerate that she would blame herself for unsettling him, he had no doubt.
No, to say nothing would be better. Perhaps...perhaps later.
Lifting her hands gently in his own, he laid soft kisses upon her knuckles. He dared not look away. Not now. This moment was crucial - whether for just him or for them both, he knew not.
"Thank you, dear lady," he breathed, and as his eyes searched hers, he saw what he normally did in her: warmth. However, this time he saw more. There was warmth, yes, but there was also gentleness, protectiveness, and a sort of satisfaction about him not tearing the scarf from his throat - he would never do such a thing. Not when it was from her.
When he finally stepped outside once more, the wind was unable to sink its frozen teeth into his neck. The fabric, worn and discolored with age, was soft, caressing his scarred skin just as he imagined her fingers would if she ever deigned to lower herself and take him as her lover.
Her generosity made him only that much more determined to find some way to make life easier for her. For nearly a week, he was kept too busy to give the matter any serious consideration, but he did have an idea.
While she was occupied, Adar slipped into her shelter. He wished to find a way to repay her for her kindness, thus his goal was to find one of her unfulfilled needs and provide for her. He was already able to ensure that she received enough food and water, and she deserved more than he could ever give her, but he was willing to try.
After a few moments of searching, he noticed the blanket in her little sleeping area. It was thin, full of holes, and practically falling apart. It was the only one he could see.
His heart clenched in his chest. She must be nearly frozen during the night, yet she had still seen fit to give him her scarf? The growing dampness of tears blurred his vision, but he blinked them away. How had she made it through the winter?
At least he could fix this for her.
Picking up the tattered blanket, he strode across the camp to find a replacement. Laying it atop a pile with other bits of cloth that needed to be repurposed, he found a stack of extra blankets. He'd already ensured that all of his children had enough to keep them warm, so one extra would not be missed.
He hastened back to her shelter, closing the door nearly silently behind him, but he quickly realized that he was not alone.
"My lord?" She called from her place beside the cold hearth. She was trying to light a fire with trembling hands. Walking over to her, Adar tucked the blanket beneath his arm and gently coaxed the flint and steel from her cold fingers.
Kneeling briefly, he struck the flint and steel once, twice, and carefully encouraged the flame to grow until a warm glow illuminated the room. When he stood again, he grasped her hands and rubbed them between his palms. He would not be content to leave her until he was certain that she would not freeze in the night.
She looked up at him in wordless wonder, and he knew for certain that his own expression had to be similar.
"Thank you, my lord," she said in barely a whisper, and in reply, he unfolded the blanket he'd brought. Though it was not nearly as soft as someone like her deserved, he knew it would hold the heat much better than her old one. Adar draped it around her shoulders, and, sweet, trusting thing that she was, she made no protest about his proximity, nor did she flinch when the backs of his knuckles caressed her cheek.
She looked from him, to the blanket, and back again. Without warning, she sprang forward, wrapping her arms around his middle, but where he usually expected the bite of a dagger after such an impact, he found only comfort. He realized that she...was embracing him.
He looked down at her, only to find his nose buried in her hair. Her scent! He'd smelled it before, but to have her this close...it was intoxicating. Carefully bracing his hands on her waist, he leaned down a little farther. The tip of his nose brushed against her warm neck, and he could almost smell her pulse racing beneath her skin.
His nose must've been cold, for that small movement was enough to startle her into leaping back. His fëa, dark and fractured as it was, wept at the loss of her, even though she'd only been in contact with him for a moment.
It had been so long since he'd been held like that.
Alarm settled into her expression and she began stammering apologies. Her new blanket slipped from one shoulder, and without a word, Adar stepped toward her and pulled it back into place.
Her voice dropped away as she realized what he was doing. His hands laid lightly upon her shoulders, sliding slowly upward until he was able to cup her cheeks carefully between his scarred fingers. Her eyes, now wide with wonder rather than fear, looked up at him.
"You have done nothing which warrants an apology, my lady," Adar murmured giving her small smile. She was so beautiful, so fragile compared to him. He would risk no injury coming to her. Not even the discomfort of the abating cold; slowly, their breaths became less visible as the fire grew in the hearth. "Why did you not tell me about the state of your blanket?"
"I did not wish to trouble you, my lord," she answered sheepishly. "I had already requested a replacement from the head of the Men in our section, but I was told I'd have to speak with Waldreg. Given my previous encounters with him, I...decided that the cold was preferable."
Disquiet twisted within him. Waldreg was distasteful enough without having caused his lady trouble. He was quite certain he'd tear the little worm of a Man limb from limb with a grin on his lips if he dared harm his lady.
Adar would have to speak with him about that.
"Has he mistreated you?" He tried to keep his tone as steady as possible, but a slight edge still managed to creep in.
"He expressed a few less than polite sentiments, but no more. It is not a crime for him to dislike me, my lord," she said, but her attempt to calm his ire only made him angrier on her behalf. Would she not express her anger even at someone as wretched and cruel as Waldreg?
"In future, come directly to me. You need not be afraid. I would be pleased to assist you, my lady," he promised, and his heart stuttered as she nodded her head.
As soon as he left her shelter, he sought Waldreg. The miserable little rat had much to answer for.
--
As the winter winds began to wane, I found myself increasingly glad of Lord Adar's kindness. Not shivering through the night was a pleasant change. I'd thought that after our conversation he seemed rather tense, but thus far I had seen no results.
However, as I returned from harvesting a small bunch of mushrooms for the soup that night, a vicelike grip clamped around my arm, tugging me off balance and dragging me into the small, dark alleyway between two repurposed buildings.
A hand covered my mouth just as a knifepoint pressed cold and unyielding against my racing pulse.
"You vicious little bitch," a familiar voice snarled against my ear. "What lies did you tell him? How did you make him hate me?"
I whimpered but dared not move for fear of the sharp steel at my throat.
"'You will not treat my children or those pledged to me with disrespect,' he said. He's had me shoveling shit in the kennels for weeks, and word around camp is that he only came to me after speaking with you!" Waldreg sounded furious, and, indeed, I could detect the lingering scent of the wargs' leavings clinging to my attacker and his clothing. The more agitated he grew, the more his hands shook. Pain pricked my skin, and a hot red tear trickled down my throat staining the neckline of my dress. "What'd you do? Lift your skirt for him? Whisper in those ragged little ears of his? Give me one good reason I shouldn't gut you here and feed you to the wargs."
I began struggling in earnest, but his anger kept his grip tight. Still his hand covered my mouth, preventing any attempts at speech. A cruel laugh trickled across my ears, and he dragged his knife downwards until it rested directly above my heart.
"I thought not." I tried to cringe away, but that accomplished nothing save fueling the cruel old bastard's amusement as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Say goodnight!"
Instead of the bite of a blade, however, I was abruptly released. A gurgling sound came from behind me, and when I turned, I saw Lord Adar's gauntlet-covered hand lifting Waldreg off the ground by his throat. The cold glare on the Uruk's face revealed not a single mite of mercy for the Man thrashing in his grasp.
"My lady, go inside. I will join you in a moment," Adar called, and after a single shocked blink, I rushed off to do as he'd ordered. My basket lay in the mud, entirely forgotten amongst the chaos. A small crowd of Uruks had gathered around to witness Waldreg's demise and jeer at him, but I couldn't stay.
As terrible as he was, I didn't want to. Trembling, I closed the door after myself and stumbled toward my sleeping space. Quickly wrapping the blanket Adar had given me around my shoulders, I tried to steady my breathing instead of listening to the commotion outside.
I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there when the crowd fell silent and the door finally opened. Terrified that Waldreg had somehow survived and was coming to seek his revenge, I backed into the corner beside the hearth and tried to stay as small as possible.
I had no weapons with which to fight. Hiding would be my only chance to survive, especially if Adar had not been able to stop him.
--
"My lady?" Adar's voice called gently into the space, though he saw no sign of her. He spotted a small movement from the far side of the hearth. Why was she hiding? Her eyes were wide and fearful, even as he approached.
Suddenly, her assertion about Waldreg expressing 'a few less than polite sentiments, but no more' felt grossly incorrect. If she was this frightened, he must've threatened her.
Adar hoped that she heard him screaming his apologies before his death.
Or...could it be that he'd finally managed to frighten her with his cruelty? That thought sent a bolt of icy dread through him.
Dropping silently to his knees beside her, he unclipped his gauntlet and dropped it beside him. He wouldn't dare touch her while wearing it after it had touched that scum, not without cleaning it first. He offered her his hand, afterwards, and she accepted it without hesitation.
She needed no coaxing to come to him, shuffling over and resting before him on her knees with her blanket still around her shoulders.
"You need not fear, my lady. He will haunt your steps no more," he murmured, and the relieved little sniffle that escaped her had Adar moving closer and gently brushing her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.
His skin was rough, but he was careful. He didn't want to hurt her, or for her to fear him. She had every right to after she'd seen him lifting Waldreg off the ground in the midst of his rage. He certainly would not blame her, but he did not want that. If ever she shrank away from him as she'd tried to do from that contemptible worm earlier, he thought his heart may shatter irreparably.
So, with the most soothing tone he could muster - one he'd not used in over an Age - he placed a gentle kiss upon her brow and spoke.
"You are safe with me, híril vuin. None shall raise a hand to you again." Carefully, he pulled the edge of the blanket away just far enough to see the small trail of dried blood from where she'd been cut. Regret was as foul upon his tongue as bile.
He should have found them sooner. Moving away only long enough to fetch a pitcher of water and a cloth, Adar sat close to her upon his return. He began to wipe her skin clean in slow, careful strokes, murmuring quiet, earnest praise for how brave she'd been and for trusting him to help her.
She rested her cheek upon his shoulder as he set the cloth aside, prompting him instinctively to wrap his arms around her and brace his chin atop her head.
"Thank you, my lord," she breathed, and he was acutely aware of his own heart racing in his chest. Could she hear its rhythm even with the chestplate of his armor in the way?
As he began to tell her that he'd done no more than his duty, the door to her shelter opened, revealing the three other ladies who shared the small space with her. Adar grated at the interruption, despite their low curtsies as soon as they caught sight of him holding his lady in his arms.
"Sleep elsewhere tonight," he ordered them, and once they'd departed, he let out a tense breath. Speaking then to his lady, he softened his tone once more. "Tomorrow, I shall have you moved to chambers befitting one of your station."
She blinked beautifully up at him, dampness clinging to her lashes like dewdrops in the early morn.
"'My station,' my lord?"
A slow smile stretched his lips.
"Indeed. If you are to serve at the right hand of the Lord of Mordor, you cannot be seen huddling in the corner of a ruined shack."
Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted in a near-silent gasp.
"A-At your right hand?"
He nodded his head in confirmation.
"Assuming that such a thought appeals to you, of course," he said, but the smile that lit up her face told him all that he needed to know about her enthusiasm.
--
The next morning, I awoke wrapped in Lord Adar's arms and the blanket he'd given me. I should've felt embarrassment, but I could muster no more than a groggy sense that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
As soon as we managed to peel ourselves from the ground, we gathered my meager possessions, and Adar led me to the tavern. He had ruled from there since day one, but I hadn't been aware until that moment that he'd been living there as well. I supposed that his choice made sense. The upper level was where the owner used to live, having the benefit of a bedroom and a small bathing room complete with a claw-foot tub.
"Unless you object, we shall be sharing the bedroom," he explained as we climbed the creaky wooden staircase. "I'm afraid that there was little more than a musty mattress here to begin with, so I'll have a second bedroll brought up today. If there is anything you require once you have settled in, please do not hesitate to tell me."
"Thank you, my lord," I replied, and as I set myself up on one side of the room directly across from his own sleeping area, one of his children called him away to handle a conflict on the other side of the camp.
Late that night, I walked into the small communal area where Lord Adar sat by the fire, gazing into its depths as if it held the answers to all of his questions. Not wishing to disturb his thoughts, I began to move away, but a quiet call of my name in that deliciously raspy voice of his froze me in place.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?" He called, and I turned to find his gaze already fixed on me.
"Yes, my lord," I murmured, "thank you for allowing me to stay here."
"The pleasure is mine. Come, warm yourself by the fire," he offered, and I dropped to my knees on the furs beside him. We sat in companionable silence for a while with only the crackling of the fire in the grate reaching our ears. "Something troubles you, does it not?"
I nodded my head and he tilted his own beside me.
"Tell me." Despite his soft tone, the command made me bite my lip.
"I...My lord, given the new position with which you have honored me, I believe it..." I stumbled over the words, eventually taking a deep breath to compose myself. "Would it not be inappropriate for me to continue in this particular role without having sworn my loyalty to you?"
The question came out in a breathless rush, but Adar either did not notice over the hissing of the fire or he was too polite to comment upon it.
"So far as all the others are concerned, you did so before we ever took your village." His eyes skimmed the length of my face as he spoke. "As you will recall, I promised you that I would not force you to do so."
"And you have kept to your word," I began. "I have not felt coerced. I offer my loyalty to you freely."
Adar sat up straighter and drew in a sharp breath.
"You only need do so if you truly wish for us to be bound," he said placing his hand softly atop mine where it rested amongst the furs. His eyes searched mine as if trying to determine whether I was serious.
"I'm certain, my lord," I said, and he, apparently finding what he was looking for, gave a solemn nod of his head.
"Very well. As with your kin, Black Speech is not a language known to you, thus I will not require your vow in that tongue," he murmured, and I couldn't stop the question that fell from my lips.
"Would it be possible to learn at some point?"
Adar smiled, a mix of pride and surprise playing across his features in the glowing, flickering light of the fire.
"I shall teach you personally, híril vuin," he promised, and his expression became more serious. "Have you ever sworn loyalty to another?"
"No, my lord."
"Do you recall the words being spoken during the oaths of fealty given by your people?"
"Yes, my lord." I bowed my head, intending to show my respect in that manner, but warm, gentle fingers grasped my chin and lifted my head back up. Adar's gaze met my own, and unless the firelight was deceiving me, I saw a soft sort of affection swimming in his eyes as he looked at me.
"Before all else, I wish you to swear that you will never bow to me unless I explicitly give you the order to do so," he rasped as his thumb brushed over my lower lip.
"I swear it, my lord. I will not bow to you unless you give me the order to do so." Having extracted that promise, he seemed satisfied to allow me to continue as I had been. His fingers fell away from my chin only to grasp my own and lay them atop his chest where beneath his heart lay beating. "I hereby swear my allegiance to you, Adar, Lord-Father of the Uruks, founder of the land of Mordor...and protector of mortal children silly enough to wander the forest alone. This I pledge from now until the last breath leaves my body."
Adar listened with something akin to wonder in his eyes, and when I finished, his gaze strayed down to my lips. But...something seemed off.
"Is...something amiss, my lord? I could always use different words, if you prefer...?"
He shook his head quietly.
"There was no fault in your diction."
"Then...what troubles you?" I asked, unconsciously repeating his own words from earlier. He shifted before me, as if he was bothered by what he was about to say. Regretful, perhaps?
"An oath means little on its own," Adar murmured unsheathing a small knife that he'd apparently concealed upon his person. "Only blood can bind."
Whose blood did he mean? Did he want me to use it on myself? Did he wish to use it on me? Or did he want me to use it on us both?
An idea struck me, and I grasped my necklace in the palm of my left hand. Carefully, I set his knife aside, guiding his gauntlet-covered hand over mine. Looking into his eyes, I felt the unyielding metal dig into the soft skin of my hand. Without warning, I squeezed his hand, which in turn forced the sharp, ancient metal deep enough into my skin to draw blood. As comprehension dawned in his eyes, his pupils dilated, and something resembling hunger turned his gaze into a blazing flame boring into me.
His hand released mine long enough for the pendant to fall from my grasp, and when he turned my palm upwards, twin gashes welled with blood. Swallowing heavily, Adar lifted my hand, and as his lips met crimson, his eyes sought mine.
A gasp tumbled from my throat as his tongue lapped slowly at my skin, just barely grazing the inner edges of the two weeping cuts. It stung, of course, but the pain combined with such a ravenous stare from the Uruk lord sent a wave of heat rushing between my legs.
A breathy, wanton whimper escaped me, and in a blink, I found myself on my back atop the furs with my lord straddling my hips. He pressed my bleeding palm against his cheek, and, bracing his free hand on the floor beside my head, Adar placed a line of fiery kisses along the column of my throat from hollow to chin with his blood-drenched lips.
I'd wanted him to look at me like this, to touch me and desire me like this, from the moment we were reunited, and now that he was, it was as though my very soul had been lit aflame. I wanted everything he wished to give me, and then some.
Before his mouth had the chance to claim mine, however, there was a rough knock on the door. Adar pulled back a few inches, and we stared into each other's eyes, panting together as reality sank back in and a second knock sounded.
"I think you ought to retire for the night, my lady," he rasped laying a final kiss upon my palm before getting to his feet. My blood was a dark red streak upon his face, but he seemed not to care. He called for whoever was at the door to wait a moment, taking the time to help me to my feet and bidding me goodnight before seeing to our caller. His lips were still the deep red shade of the life flowing through my mortal veins.
I hurried up the stairs to our shared sleeping space before I could see who'd interrupted us. With a quick glance into the cracked fragment of a mirror stowed in the corner of the room, I saw a sloppy, red trail where Adar's lips had been.
I didn't bother to clean it off before I crawled into my bedroll, choosing instead to slip my fingers beneath my smallclothes as I recalled the feeling of him doing as he wished with me. With a broken, muffled whine of his name against my blanket, I found completion, but a part of me wondered how much more satisfying it would have been had his fingers been in place of mine.
--
The next fortnight felt as though it was a specialized form of torture. Adar seemed to be called away by a never-ending series of problems that required solutions. Often his day began earlier than I awoke and ended long after I'd retired to bed. Ensuring I'd completed every task he'd left for me was the least I could do considering how busy his own position kept him.
Occasionally, we did still manage to sneak a meal or a short conversation with one another, but we had yet to discuss what had happened the night I pledged myself to him. Almost every night, the memory of the hunger in his eyes drove me to desperation, haunting my dreams and forcing me to muffle my cries as I tended to my own burning desire.
One of the few times he returned before I fell asleep, I'd just whimpered his name into my pillow. As he ascended the staircase, I heard his footsteps, and I tried to muffle my shame as it was too late to stop entirely. The fear of discovery lanced through me as I heard him approach the door. I tried to steady my breathing, and hoped that in the low lighting, he would not notice how disheveled I looked.
Either I was successful, or he was in a sadistic mood, because he sidled over to his own bedroll and began stripping down. I'd seen him without the armor before, but when he shucked off his upper garments, the sight of his scarred, toned torso was enough to make me bite my tongue to stifle a gasp.
The outline of his masculinity in his trousers as he laid his clothing in a neat pile sent a fresh wave of wetness soaking my inner thighs. Oh, how was I meant to sleep after seeing...that?
Adar laid down, and just when I thought he'd fallen asleep, his voice broke through the silence.
"Sweet dreams, my lady." I could hear the teasing smile in his voice.
Oh. My cheeks burned at the realization that he'd likely heard me.
"...Good night, my lord," I murmured, hating how shaky I sounded.
--
Spring changed very few things in Mordor, save the temperatures, yet with each passing day, Adar's lady seemed to smile just a little wider.
He wanted to give her more reasons to do so, however. It was not enough that they had been living in close quarters since that night in her shelter. It was not enough that he'd made her smile and laugh before. Adar needed to do it again.
But more than that, he needed to hear those things which it was not at all civilized to consider. It was not enough that he had tasted her blood and her skin and her racing pulse. He'd heard her make beautiful, pleasure-filled sounds when she thought he was out of earshot or asleep. But it was never enough. He needed to hear her moan his name, to see her arch her back beneath him in the throes of ecstasy. He needed her.
Teasing her had been as much a torture for him as it likely was for her. Adar had become addicted to pain in one form or another over the millennia, and the mental strain of denying himself the pleasure of her touch was not unfamiliar, but it was forcing him to a breaking point, nonetheless. He knew that he would likely snap as he had when she'd sworn him her loyalty. That rush had been like a dam releasing an unstoppable flood, his hunger turning him into a ravenous beast.
She hadn't minded, as he thought she might. She'd enjoyed it. The sight of her lying beneath him panting as her blood practically dripped from his lips made him achingly hard each time he dwelled upon the memory for too long.
Still, she deserved better. Better than him, better than a moment of animalistic need. He found himself wondering about how best to give her all of himself.
Adar supposed that was how he'd ended up in the doorway of the small bathing room. The claw-footed tub was filled with steaming water as he'd ordered, and relaxing within it was his lady. She'd deserved a moment of peace after having completed every single task he'd given her with such dedication. It was a small reward, hardly as much as she deserved, but at the moment, it was all he could give.
He tried not to allow his gaze to drop beneath the water's surface, but his restraint was weak after the last two weeks of self-imposed denial. Truly, he intended merely to check that she was well, but the temptation of seeing her soft skin dripping with hot water was too great. The Lord of Mordor lingered in the doorway just long enough to feel his lower garments grow tight, and for her eyes to meet his as his lust clawed at his restraint.
As a moth drawn to a flame, he found himself walking slowly into the room, summoned by her curious gaze. The hot water reached her collarbones, and Adar felt the urge rising within him to claim her.
He knelt beside the tub, his face mere inches from her own, and removed his armor, gauntlet and all. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and dipped a washcloth into the hot water. The back of his hand brushed against the swell of her breast, and they both let out quiet gasps.
Still, Adar refused to look down into the depths of the sage blossom oil scented water. Wringing the washcloth out until it was just wet enough for him to clean his face, he began to do so, only for his lady to take it from his hands. With her breasts pressed up against the side of the tub, her soft, gentle fingers held his head in place as she carefully wiped away the grime.
Without a word, he turned his head and kissed her palm where twin scars were already forming. Adar would've preferred that she spill his own blood - that was what he'd originally intended - but since she'd chosen that pain, the least he could do was show the proper amount of reverence for her actions.
"Is there anything you need, Adar?" Her voice was shaky and breathless as it so often was when he caught her off-guard.
"No. This night is for you. Relax as long as you wish," he murmured, but as he stood to leave her in peace, he noted that she tried valiantly to hide her disappointment. Without turning back - if he did, he might do something impulsive - he called over his shoulder, "Patience, my lady, and you shall have all that you desire."
His hardness did not abate until long after they'd settled into their bedrolls and her breathing had evened out in the serenity of sleep.
Adar could not wait much longer. Her sweetness was as a siren's call to him.
Thus, his plan began to form. Once the spring was fully upon them, he approached her as he often did for conversation.
"My lady, I wonder if you might spare me a moment of your time?" He asked, and she smiled joyfully up at him - truly, that should not have made his heart stutter the way it did.
"Of course, my lord. You may have as much of my time as you desire," she replied, and oh, she had no idea what she was offering!
"Do you enjoy riding horses?"
She tilted her head curiously, but the way her smile widened had him mentally congratulating himself for selecting this particular tactic.
"I do, though, it has been quite some time since I've had the opportunity."
"Come," he urged offering her his hand. She didn't hesitate to take it. The feeling of her touch would be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. Drawing her close, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I intend to steal you away."
Her lips parted in surprise, and just as he was about to apologize for his forthrightness, she squeezed his fingers in hers.
"I could not hope to be stolen by any more worthy." His breath hitched in his chest, and he tamped down the temptation to skip his plan entirely and take her atop his own sleeping furs. No. He'd been alive since before the waking of the world. He could wait a little longer.
"Then, maybe I should play the part...?" Adar suggested with a mischievous smirk. Before she could ask what he meant, he lifted her by the waist, tossed her over his shoulder - an action which tugged a surprised shriek from her lips - and carried her to his horse that way.
"My lord!"
"My lady!" He called back in answer as he felt her gentle, mortal hands lay across the back of his armor. Surely she knew he would never drop her?
Soon, he placed her atop his mount, and she giggled breathlessly at the situation. Her mussed hair and bright eyes lit a spark within his heart, and lower, not that he would admit it to any, save her. Swinging up easily, he settled in behind her, grasping the horse's reins in one hand and bracing the other over the softness of her diaphragm. As close as they were, he was in the perfect position to whisper in her ear.
"Fear not, my lady," he breathed, "you shan't fall."
One of her hands covered his, and he urged their horse forward. For nearly two hours they rode, crossing from ashen, desolate terrain into the gentle rolling grasses of the land beyond Mordor's fiery shadow.
The rhythmic roll of her hips against his became almost hypnotic. The Lord of Mordor he might be, but his restraint was still utterly devastated by her. They dismounted when they reached a meadow peppered with small saplings.
Tying their horse's reins to a sturdy one, Adar offered his lady his hand. The sun was just beginning to glow a gentle orange. It would set soon, and he greatly desired to see his lady bathed in starlight.
"It is no secret that I favor you, my lady," Adar began as they wandered leisurely amongst the blooming flowers, and that was the closest he'd ever come to an admission...to a confession of that nature. "Even the Uruks farthest from the center of our camp know that I...that you are under my protection."
"Indeed. I would say that is true," she agreed, clearly not certain at what point he was driving with his rambling. "I am honored beyond words to have your favor and protection, my lord–"
"Adar. Here - anywhere away from prying eyes and unwelcome ears - you may call me Adar," he corrected gently, and her fingers squeezed his in gratitude. "I brought you here today, because I wish to ask for your counsel."
"You shall always have it, Adar," she assured, "though, I am not certain what advice I could provide that would be wiser than your own. I have very little experience with war and strategy."
He stopped walking and turned to face her - a mistake, because she was almost ethereally encompassed by the warmth of the sunset. He swallowed heavily to recover his voice.
"It is not war about which I require your thoughts," he began, bringing her hand to his ruined lips. "I have lived in shadow for so long, yet recently I have found myself prey to a feeling which I have not experienced in many Ages."
She tilted her head curiously.
"What might that be?"
Adar reached gently toward her with his free hand, cupping her cheek.
"Love," he rasped, looking into her eyes, hoping she would catch the meaning within his words. Admitting that a horrid creature like him had fallen head over heels for a beautiful being like her was tantamount to sacrilege. Yet...in several instances, he believed that he'd seen his own affection reflected in her eyes. Indeed, the moans he'd heard from her would seem to indicate that she desired him.
But it was too much to hope that she could love him. He was certain she desired him, but...love? Could a Human woman truly love an Uruk when the rest of her kind looked down on them in scorn and disgust? Had he been a fool to bring her here?
She stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes–
Her expression stole his breath. He had not hung the stars in the sky, nor had he wrought treasures like the Silmarils. He had not created even a single thing of beauty. All he'd done was try to give his children a home.
And yet...she looked at him as though he was more worthy of praise than the most virtuous of kings, the most honorable of knights, and the most devoted of husbands. Could it be possible?
Could she...?
"I am afraid that I have little experience with love, Adar, but I will help if I can." As afraid as he might be of losing her, he must speak now or lose her forever.
"In your opinion, who is worthy of love?" He asked, and she let out a small huff of laughter, as if the question was a foolish one. "Have I said something amusing?"
"A bit," she admitted, but she was quick to place her free hand over his heart, "but not in the way you might think. Everyone is worthy of love, even - and, perhaps, most especially - the Lord-Father of the Uruks."
Was he truly so transparent that she could see his fears so easily? Or had she managed to worm her way so far into his heart without his knowledge that it was already a bosom companion to her own?
"...And you have it." His eyes snapped back up to hers - when had he looked away? His hunger and adoration for her rose up in a great wave, consuming him from the inside as he wove his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and drew her into a passionate kiss.
He'd dreamed of having her pressed up against him, of drinking her pleasure from her lips.
She moaned into Adar's mouth, and he was struck by the realization that she was so much better than any phantom images that his imagination could conjure. He dragged his lips and teeth to the corner of her jaw, and spoke in a hoarse, rasping whisper.
"I need you as I need air, meleth-nin." He grasped her waist as her arms drew him ever closer. "You steal my breath, yet without you I cannot breathe. Have mercy...Have mercy upon your most devoted servant..."
As the orange sky bled pink, his lips trailed down her neck, savoring those places which had driven him to the edge of madness when he sampled her before the fire. His name escaped her lips on the back of a desperate whine.
"What do you need? Tell me," Adar breathed, and she tilted her head to offer him more of her neck.
"Take me, touch me, please! I'll be good, so good, only for you," she begged, and the sound went straight to the stiffening length between his legs. He would love nothing more than to have her beg for him all night, but this time she would have no need to. Tonight, the beginning of their time as one, he would fulfill her every desire with a minimum of teasing. He'd done too much of that of late.
Her fingers dove into his hair, and a moan poured from his throat, rumbling against her pretty skin.
"Is that what you want? Do you wish to be a good girl for me?" She released a varied stream of yeses and pleas for him to do as he wished with her, and he acceded to her request with a kiss, quelling any doubt she may have had that he would do this for her. He would do anything for her, even unto the destruction of Middle Earth. "Do you wish to be mine?"
"Yes!" Her answer was akin to a desperate sob, and he wasted no time, immediately indulging her.
Tugging his cloak from his armor, Adar spread it over the grass. He would not have her dress covered in stains, nor grass blades stuck to her skin. The cloth created a sharp contrast - an onyx patch amidst a sea of pinks, purples, reds, and yellows - the dark to the meadow's light, just as she was the light to his darkness. She completed him, enthralled him, drove him mad, and tonight he would show her just how much.
She went for the ties fastening her dress, but he caught her hands in his and took over. She was a gift more precious than anything which the Valar could bestow upon their servants, and he would unwrap her accordingly.
As the laces binding the back of her dress fell away one at a time, Adar explored his lover's mouth with all the tenderness and gentleness that his cruel, twisted body could muster. He hadn't even realized that her tricky little fingers had begun to fiddle with his armor until his breastplate fell away.
In a flurry of discarded garments, they were each revealed to the other in all their beauty and all their flaws. Their shared vulnerability stilled their hands for an anxious moment, but only for a moment.
Adar's breath hitched in his chest when the soft lips he'd tasted mere seconds before connected with the scarred flesh over his heart. He'd expected pity, fear, regret - not reverence. Instead, as she looked up at him, he saw nothing but sincerity in her expression.
"You are gorgeous," she said, as though she could not tell that he had but one part of his body which was untouched by scars.
...As though she meant it. He realized with a sharp intake of breath that she did. She grasped his hands and they sank onto his cloak together, she on her back and he kneeling between her legs. His interest jutted toward her, but he could not find it within himself to be ashamed, not when he was with her. Not when a piece of his armor hung on a chain around her neck, resting comfortably above her breast.
"There is no beauty finer in this world than yours."
Spread nude before him over his cloak, Adar's lady looked up at him with an adoration he had not believed possible. Not when directed at an Uruk such as he. His lips met hers once more, but this time, he forced himself to be much more controlled. He wanted her, yes, but he also wanted her to know that she had his love.
Kissing his way steadily down her body, the Lord-Father of the Uruks had no doubt that he must look as hungry for her as he felt. Practically feral with pent-up desire, he needed her writhing on his tongue. His hands trembled with the effort it took to slow his movements, to take his time.
Abruptly, as his eyes met hers from between her legs, he realized that she very much had the capacity to destroy him. With a single declaration of hatred or a look of disgust, she could easily take his stone heart and pulverize it into powder.
How easily could she shred beyond repair what little remained of his soul!
Not even Morgoth had been able to do that. This mortal woman, this sweet, brave lady had no idea of the power that she possessed. The smart thing to do - the strategically wise path - would have been to kill her then and there while she lay vulnerable and trusting before him, begging for one more touch, one more kiss, one more moan, one more scrap of his attention.
Instead, he picked up his discarded gauntlet and slid her much smaller hand inside it. The clasps were quick work, and though she looked confused at first, once he lifted her thighs over his shoulders and guided her hand to his hair, understanding dawned in her eyes. She understood. He wanted her to feel powerful. She was his equal and she deserved to know it.
Even with sharp, unyielding metal covering her fingertips, they scraped so gently over his scalp as he lost himself in the flood between her thighs. She moaned and whimpered, squirming in his hold, but through it all, she never once hurt him.
Adar knew that she wouldn't. Even as she cried out his name for all the world to hear, drenching his tongue and chin, her grip in his hair was careful. Her thighs tensed in his grasp, squeezing his head in an intoxicating vice. Groaning and snarling against her sensitive folds, he couldn't bring himself to pull away until she was shaking in the midst of over-sensitivity.
"Adar, please," she breathed as he moved up her body. Hunger raged and burned in his eyes - he could deny himself no longer. Grasping her wrists, he pinned them easily above her head as he claimed her lips. His tongue delved into the softness of her mouth, taking with it the lingering taste of her.
Her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him close enough for his tip to catch on her entrance. With synchronized groans, he pressed inside of her, joining their bodies together as one.
Profane language not meant for the ears of such a creature as her spilled from his throat in a guttural stream of Black Speech. Dipping his head, Adar moaned against her breast and surged forward, drawing a sinful mewl from deep within her throat.
"You have me. You take me so well," he praised in a raspy whisper, nibbling at her earlobe as he thrust into her slowly. Gradually, she stripped him of his sense and control, tugging from within him a steady flow of praise and filth in Elvish and Black Speech - promises to treasure her for the rest of his days, to protect her, and to draw from her so many screams each night that all of Mordor would be unable to deny his claim over her.
When she managed to roll her hips beneath him to meet his thrusts, begging him to use her, to ruin her, what could he do but grant his lady's wish?
In a quick movement, he'd repositioned them both so that she was astride his hips. Pulling her arms behind her back and tugging slightly so that her chest was pushed toward him, Adar looked into her eyes.
"If you wish your lord to use you, then move those hips," he ordered. Leaning in, he brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear and whispered a bit more gently to her. "Ride me, meleth. Show me that I have you."
She obeyed him instantly, finding a steady rhythm which, aided by his fingers toying with her clit, would have her tipping over the edge in mere moments. Indeed, her hips soon stuttered, and he gripped the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to meet his.
"Do not look away. Look at the pleasure I can give you," he commanded, and as she nodded frantically, beginning to fall apart, he felt his heart stutter in his chest. "Yes, look upon the Uruk who loves you."
At that, she sobbed and collided firmly with her orgasm. She fluttered around his length, calling his name in lovelorn whimpers and gasps.
Who needed Valinor when she was its very embodiment?
He released her wrists, and she threw her arms around his neck, claiming his lips with her own. His hands slid down her back, landing squarely on her hips. Holding her steady, Adar thrust up into her, making her yelp in surprise. He needed very little now; he was close.
"Where do you wish me?" Adar breathed against her lips, and he could feel the heat burning her cheeks.
"Inside," she answered hiding her face against his neck, and he moaned against her shoulder. Her name tore from him in an almost pained whine as he spilled within her. He clutched her to him so tightly that he'd undoubtedly left bruises in his wake, but he would kiss them all in apology when they'd caught their breath.
Neither seemed eager to release the other, so in their embrace they remained exploring one another with gentle fingers and loving lips until long after the moon had risen and stars had winked their way into the sky. When he dared to lean back far enough to look into her eyes, Adar was met with love bathed in glittering starlight.
He wondered if he'd hurt her, but the smile stretching her lips said otherwise. The armor piece that she'd made into a necklace still rested upon the smooth expanse of her chest - a perfect accompaniment to his gauntlet upon her arm.
The ride back to camp seemed too short by far, but their bedrolls - which would soon be joined into one - called out to them so sweetly. Adar was used to the bows and deference he received from his children, but he knew in his heart that his decision had been right when upon their return he heard the Uruks repeating a particular phrase as they passed.
His lover had heard part of it before, but now there were a few more words to it.
"What is that they keep saying?" She whispered the question to him, and he couldn't keep himself from smiling proudly. "It sounds familiar, but different."
"'Tis Black Speech. They are saying 'make way for the Lord and Lady of Mordor,'" he answered kissing her temple as they approached their home.
~*~*~
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hana-no-seiiki · 5 months ago
Text
WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)
YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER
[ ACT ONE HERE ]
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cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.
summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’
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MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS
“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”
“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”
“We weren’t . . . “
As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.
I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?
They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.
Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.
You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.
He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.
If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.
Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.
He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.
Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.
It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”
And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.
He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.
And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.
“Hey, [N/N].”
The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.
“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.
And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.
Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”
“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.
You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.
Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.
“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”
“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.
You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.
“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.
“Meet Fishbones.”
BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:
Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?
You could tell he was pulling his punches.
Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.
You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).
“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.
That was one of Bruce’s buildings.
“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”
“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.
Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.
His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.
He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.
He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.
What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?
"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.
Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.
“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.
Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.
“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.
No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.
“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.
He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.
“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”
And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.
You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.
“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”
“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”
Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.
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୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹
AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj
Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @cherry-peach-flavored @ice-cream-writes-stuff @speckle-meow-meow @inejghafawifesblog @sitepathos @mimiissia @rolo-at-midnight @mossyvampire @kawaiimusiccollection @harpy-space @takottai @maddeningmangos @obsessed-with-a-fictional @ihatemylifeuwu @caramelstrikezz @szapizzapanda @vanessa-boo @imbiafandbored @victor-rose @earphonejack09 @rainnyydaysworld @bubbabobabubbles @ksziggy @evan-trand @emo-z0mbiezzz @nyra-42 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @orangeboulevard @alwayszealousdetective @huhuhhuhh @iwasveronica @imginarygirl @nebuluma @heyitsaloy @mysticalhills
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sooniebby · 10 months ago
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Don’t ask how I thought of this… it’s trans male reader, no set character—imagine whoever you want. Bottom reader. Use of pussy, and other “feminine” words. This lowkey just self indulgent, so the reader isn’t fully transitioned 🫶🏼 don’t read if you get dysphoric easily.
You knew your friend did “sex work” on the side. And the reason why it wasn’t true “sex work” was because it was just him and his girlfriend recording themselves having sex and posting it onto Twitter.
It was just a kink for them, really, he never said anything about getting paid for it. But you remember them thinking about putting a paywall to see the full videos.
More power to them, or whatever. When you became roommates with said friend, him and his girlfriend made sure to record any videos when you were gone. Which was great.
It wasn’t until the two broke up, amicably actually, she just found out she was a lesbian—you thought his Twitter porn days were over now he didn’t have a partner. Since he didn’t like doing solo content
What you didn’t think was that he’d ask you to do something with him
“It’s just until I find someone else,” he said, nonchalantly.
“But it doesn’t give you money.”
“Oh we did make money off it. Not a lot, but decent money. Julie was gonna keep doing it with me just to keep some money but now she’s making lesbian content.”
“But girls! Wasn’t it straight porn?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m straight… the viewers won’t care, pussy’s pussy!” He laughed until he saw your face. “Oh well if it makes you uncomfortable you don’t gotta do it. It is a strange request.” He moved to get up until you grabbed his hand.
“How much?”
“Huh?”
“How much do you earn from the videos?”
“Depends. The viewers love oral sex and teasing videos. Those usually get over… 2k—”
“—I’m in.”
“Seriously?”
“Cash is cash. They won’t be seeing my face right?”
“No. The focus,” he kneeled down close to you, “will be on down here.” His hand trailed against your crotch. “You just gotta lay there and be pretty, baby.”
No wonder the girls who ever dated him cried when they broke up. Who would willingly leave someone with a tongue like this?
You had told him there was no way you’d allow him to call you baby girl or anything of the sort which he happily agreed.
“Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”
“Wouldn’t want it to.” You muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed to be nude from the waist down in front of your friend. He smirked slightly grabbed his phone as he aimed it to film your crotch area.
“Don’t say that—not when you’ll end up begging for more.”
You didn’t even get to retort that as you felt his finger rub against your clit. Your breathing hitched as he was slow with his touch, teasing your outer lips. Down and up, small strokes, and a light push.
You could see why these videos got viewers—it was driving you crazy each time he teased your clit before pulling away. Your hips began flinching slightly, subconsciously trying to rub your pussy against the palm of his hand.
“Did I say you could do that?”
You instantly froze, dropping your hips right back down on the bed.
“Good boy.” He whispered, making sure the phone didn’t pick it up.
What the fuck?! That… that was for you alone, right? While you were reeling at how easily he could command you, you cried out feeling two fingers shove itself inside your hole.
His fingers moved fast, spreading you open. You didn’t even realize you weren’t hiding your whimpers as you tried to calm down from the sudden pleasure. Your legs twitched and spasmed, fingers digging into the bedsheets for some sort of stability.
But then he stopped. Just as fast as he started.
He ended the video and wiped his fingers against your thigh, smirking. “Alright, last video, then that’s it. You doing alright?”
“H…huh…?” You could only sputter out, reeling in shock.
“Starting video now.”
You glanced down, watching as he pulled out his cock from his sweatpants. Oh, he was.. a bit big. His cock flopped right against your pussy, causing you to shudder in response.
It wasn’t that you were a virgin… but fuck, you were embarrassingly excited to have his cock so close, just inches away from your hole.
“Condom?” You whispered
He didn’t answer, subtly shaking his head. You watched as he started the new video and placed his cock right against your pussy. You couldn’t look away, wanting to see if you could really take in something so thick and long.
But he didn’t.. push in?
With his free hand gripped tightly on your hips, he began rubbing his cock right against your pussy. You whimpered, biting your lip to try and keep your voice down.
You tried to rub against him but he held you down easily with his hand on your hips. It surprised you that he could do that with just one hand but you weren’t complaining.
“You want it, huh? Just look at it,” he moved the phone down to get a good look at your soaked pussy. “Never seen someone this wet for me. I’m flattered, baby.”
His hand released your hips and he suddenly stopped moving. You looked over to him, wondering why in god’s name he would stop. But all you saw was a shit eating grin. He wanted you to do the rest.
Any sort of self respect you had was gone. You just wanted to cum already.
You began to move your hips, rubbing your pussy against his cock. A few times, by pure luck, his cock threatened to push inside—but each time he’d fix his cock. Why would he let you get fucked?!
No matter, you reached down to begin rubbing your clit, needing some form of stimulation when he grabbed your wrist.
“I thought you were a good boy?” He asked, a false sense of sadness in his tone. “C’mon, be good for the camera.”
Once again, he made sure only you heard that. Why’d he keep doing? To rile you up? You’re already close anyway.
But then he stopped…? Again?!
“All done. Thanks again, man.” He patted your tummy and got up, pulling his pants over his cock. You wouldn’t deny that you felt your word shatter seeing it being covered by those stupid excuse of pants.
“That’s…?”
“I’ll send you your cut by the end of the week!”
He was leaving? After all that? He was just going to leave without fucking you? You quickly sat up on the bed and grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. He didn’t turn over to face you, keeping his gaze on his phone.
“Wait… that’s it..? N..nothing else?” You whispered breathlessly, needing release, quickly. And you didn’t want to rely on some plastic dildo when there was a real thing just a few inches away.
“Yeah. I just needed two videos for this month. Why?”
“I… I…”
“Begging for me?” He asked, cheekily, looking up to finally look at you. “C’mon, use your words. What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“Do I? Because if you don’t say it, I’ll do what I want with you.”
It didn’t take long for him to make you cum. As soon as his cock entered your pussy, you came. And then he really did what he wanted with you. You were too far gone to really think as it happened, but you were sure he took many pictures after, enjoying the sight of your cream filled pussy.
You certainly helped him again, and a few times after that…
Though… you’re starting to wonder…
You can’t find his and Julie’s twitter account…
And when you, embarrassingly, asked Julie—
She said they deleted the account when they broke up
Ooh. Spooky lol, what can I say? I love manipulative men…
Tag list: @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @remdayz @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @tomoeroi @tehyunnie @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience
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miabebe · 4 months ago
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Camp Seventeen: Prologue
Seventeen as Greek Demigods Series
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Pairing - Reader x ot13 (Yes, you read that right, I am insane and you are allowed to scream at me)
Word count - 2.7k
Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve mainly got crack cause all of them are idiots, and obviously smut because they are thirteen lonely, horny men afterall (aka reverse harem) also throwing in some fluff and angst as well because I gotta let emotions run high for plot sake :)
A/n - Hello hello, this is a new seventeen series I am starting and boy oh boy is it gonna be a wild ride! A special thanks to @okiedokrie @whipped-for-kpop-fics @ourdawnishotterthanourday @multi-kpop-fanfics for all their amazing help and bearing with me through the discussions for this, I’m so grateful to you guys :)
I will have a taglist for this so please comment/ send an ask on this post to be added!
“Over here!”
Wincing, you looked up from the disgusting heap of mud your foot had neatly landed in, ignoring the way your little piglet was ecstatically rolling in the same filth.
The man before you looked equally disturbed as he walked over, pulling out a bottle of water apparently from up his ass because you didn’t remember him holding it a second ago.
Sighing a thank you, you took it, emptying it onto your boots before grabbing your gremlin of a pet from its happy place, resulting in a series of loud, incessant whining.
In all that noise, you heard your shoe savior take your name with a voice that was as pretty as him.
“I’m Jisoo.” He put out his hand. “You can call me Joshua.”
You nodded, unable to shake his hand thanks to the problem trashing in your arms earning Joshua’s amusement.
“And who is this?”
“Natalie.” You muttered as he raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Natalie Porkman.”
Joshua burst out laughing, looking away as he covered up a snort, shoulders shaking. You smiled, truly taking in his beautiful features for the first time. Cute.
“This way.” He pointed at absolutely nothing yet you followed this complete stranger, survival skills be damned. “We’ve got a half mile trek ahead of us but it gets a little confusing from here so I thought I’d come pick you up.”
Cute and kind.
You filed it away under ‘to-learn-more-about-when-I-fiigure-out-what-the-fuck-is-going-on-in-my-life.’
The two of you walked side by side, footfall softly echoing in the lush green forest around. Though silence was all you had been craving after the last few days you’ve had, that did not seem like an option since one, Natalie hadn’t stopped whimpering in fifteen minutes and two, Joshua kept glancing at you like you were some sort of ancient artifact.
Not the good kinds.
“What is it?” You said finally, starting a conversation you didn’t want to have. “Never seen a mess of a human before?”
“Never such an old one.” Well, at least you got ancient right. Joshua quickly corrected himself. “I mean I’ve never heard of a demigod surviving undetected in the mortal world for this long.”
Oh but you got ‘human’ wrong. You forgot. Normalcy was never your defining factor but at least now you knew exactly what kind of freak you were.
Almost.
“I wouldn’t call it surviving, more like ‘barely made it’.”
“But you made it.”
“At the cost of what?” You sighed. “Everything is much more complicated now.”
“Don’t worry.” He stopped at a large boulder at the base of an abnormally large tree in the middle of seemingly nowhere. “We’ll all help you.”
“All?”
He nodded, looking at you over his shoulder. “All.”
Your eyes followed his hand as he placed it in the middle of the rock, and after all that you’ve learnt in the last few days, you’re not sure why you were so shocked when it rolled away at his touch. You expected it to lead you to a dark, suspicious cave but a bright light poured out, making you momentarily lose both your vision and your pet who jumped out of your arms and ran into the illuminance, squealing in delight.
“Welcome to Camp Seventeen.”
Joshua grinned, pointing at the scene before him and your jaw dropped in awe.
It was a large opening in the middle of a forest that looked very different from the one you were just trudging through. There were hills on one side, a large lake shimmering far away, fire torches lit everywhere, little cottages scattered here and there, strange symbols topping them all off. Looking at everything curiously, you walked down the cobbled path, only just noticing the two men who were standing at the end of it, both incredibly beautiful. The blonde one was playing with Natalie and the redhead was staring at you with his arms crossed, expression smug.
“Would you look at that, the prodigal babygirl is here at last.”
You frowned, taking an almost immediate dislike despite his pretty, pretty face.
“Jeonghan, play nice.” Joshua muttered, walking over to him.
“Don't patronise me Aphrodite's son, she was supposed to be here at 4-”
“It’s 4:10.”
“-yesterday.” He turned back to you. “You’re a day and 10 minutes late.”
“Well you’re not the one who’s relocating your whole life.” You spat back at him. “I had things to take care of - my dorms, my bills-”
“So much that you missed the meeting with your lawyer.”
“I did ask to reschedule. It’s not my fault he’s an unsympathetic prick.”
“Careful sweetheart.” Jeonghan cocked his head at you. “I’m unforgiving too.”
You stared at him for a whole maddening minute, realizing why his voice seemed so familiar. You had heard him on the phone over the last few days.
“You’re my lawyer.”
“And the best in the city.” Joshua interjected, sensing the rising tension. “Children of Athena tend to be big brained.”
“And hot headed apparently.”
“Natalie says ‘not more than you’.”
All three of you turned to the only other presence there, the man who was carrying your pig, silent as a statue all this while.
“Jun, son of demeter.” Joshua introduced, pulling him ahead. “He’s a natural with anything, well... natural? Mostly plants but he also happens to talk to animals.”
“Domestic ones.” Jun mumbled. “Hansol is better with the wild.”
You greeted him awkwardly, half smiling to be polite and half frowning at the way Natalie was looking up at him with literal heart eyes.
“How did you come across a fledgling?”
“A what now?”
Jun picked your pig up by the arms like a little baby. “She says she’s 10 years old, yet is the size of a toddler. Have you never wondered why your pig never grew?”
“I uh….assumed it was just the kind of breed that didn’t?”
“What an intellectual.” Jeonghan looked at you with faux amazement making you roll your eyes.
Jun, however, still hadn’t met your eye. “Fledglings are creatures of Olympus. Time moves differently there so they don’t really grow like the others in the human world. In that sense, technically, she’s still only a few months old-”
“So you’re telling me this thing, which has lived with me for 10 odd years, is….magical?”
Jun shook his head as Joshua spoke up, clarifying.
“Not magical, that’s a whole different branch of powers and abilities. Your pig is just….not a part of the human world.”
“You betrayer.” You narrowed your eyes at what you thought was your loyal companion. “We were friends. How could I not know?”
Natalie whined sadly in response earning a smile from Jun and of course, yet another snarky comment from Jeonghan. “I don’t speak pig and even I know she said you’re not very bright.”
“Understanding your native language is not particularly intelligent, you swine.” You glared at him, receiving a smirk in response.
“Ten minutes in camp and you’ve already made Jun’s ears red and picked a fight with Han.” You turned to see three men walk up to you, the one in the middle with an amused look and a powerful aura. “You’re gonna fit in quite well Newbie.”
“Seungcheol, son of Zeus and leader of the camp.” Joshua whispered as everyone bowed to him. You imitated them quickly.
“This is Seokmin, Son of Poseidon and Minghao, Son of Ares.” Seungcheol added, pulling out his armor as one of them shot you a cheery smile and the other continued to look at you cynically. “They are our training specialists. Seokmin should help you with your overall fitness and Minghao will train you for combat.”
“C-combat?” You stuttered looking around. “You mean like war?”
“The world of demigods is new to you, don’t try to understand everything in one day.” The Son of Ares sheathed his twin blades behind his back. “Take a few days to adjust to the camp first. You can start training next week.”
You nodded, a little thankful that despite his cold exterior, he seemed to be surprisingly sympathetic of your situation.
“He’s right.” Seokmin chimed. “You should settle here first, not to forget, deal with that lawsuit before you focus on everything else.”
You turned to Jeonghan expecting yet another snarky remark but he looked worried, lost in thought.
When you turned back to Seokmin though, you bit back a scream, your face inches away from a man who appeared soundlessly and seemingly from thin air.
He gave you a cheeky grin with a tilt of the head, “I’m Chan aka Dino, Son of Hermes, Camp cutie, camp hottie and camp leader- ow!”
He rubbed the back of his head vigorously when a small rock hit him with a dull thud. You looked over his shoulder to see Seungcheol aim another one with just a flick of the wrist.
This one Dino skillfully dodged, stepping away from you as Joshua laughed, “Chan is the camp messenger. He’s in charge of all sorts of delivery and transportation.”
“You were the one who picked up my things.” The realisation hit you at last as Dino nodded, pointing at a pile of your stacked bags and trunks beside the entrance.
“Guilty as charged.”
“You were supposed to arrive over an hour ago.” Seokmin narrowed his eyes at the younger man.
“I got held up with some uh distractions.” Chan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his ear. “I didn’t know where to keep her things though, considering you know, she doesn’t have a place yet.”
Seungcheol turned to you to clear your confusion. “Everyone on camp has their own residence but you came on too short a notice so we’re yet to build one of you. We could have housed you in the guest cabin except it was recently damaged in a fight,” He glared at all the boys around him. “So that would not be feasible. Until your own place is not ready you can stay at mine - it is the biggest so you should be comfortable.”
You pursed your lips unsure about his offer. Did you think you would be unsafe in his presence? No absolutely not, the opposite in fact.
You wondered how long you could hold yourself back before unsuspectingly jumping this man and his huge biceps and beefy thighs and manly voice-
“She’s thirsty.”
Taken aback you looked around, searching for the owner of the voice who unnecessarily accurately voiced your thoughts. Instead, you heard the snap of a twig and a low growling sound from the area the forest got more dense. You narrowed your eyes, trying to peer through the overgrown wilderness only to meet a pair of menacing red orbs.
Your adrenaline response barely had the time to kick in before ten, no fifteen, wild hounds ran out of their hiding place towards you, making you scream and hide behind Joshua.
The boys laughed as the dogs circled around you and you gripped onto Joshua’s shoulders terrified.
“Stand back lads.” A silver haired man walked over with a golden haired one beside him, both with a bow and quiver strung over their shoulders. The dogs immediately ran over, aligning themselves in an obedient, straight line behind them.
“Hansol, Son of Artemis and Jihoon, Son of Apollo.” Joshua looked at you over his shoulder. “They are in charge of daytime border patrol. There are all sorts of wild animals out here, hence the hounds, for protection.” As you shuddered, Joshua looked around curiously. “The Son of Hades, is in charge of nighttime patrol. He should be somewhere around here…”
Your eyes widened as the water canteen hanging on Jihoon’s belt flew towards you on its own, making you almost claw Joshua’s arm.
“Wonwoo don’t scare her.” Joshua chastised laughing as you literally see a tall, lean man materialize out of thin air, the canteen in his hand and a smirk on his face. “How long have you been here?”
“The whole time.” He mumbled, handing you the water. “Jihoon said you were thirsty.”
“Not for water.” The blonde man whispered in a way only you could hear, looking entertained at how flushed you were. Did he actually read your mind?
Coming out of Joshua’s shadow, you grabbed the canteen before anyone else noticed, thanking Wonwoo with a hard smile. Tilting your head back you drank up, not noticing how all 10 eyes were intently fixed on you and your throat moving with each gulp. They all took a gulp of their own.
As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, slowly looking around and noticing everyone’s gaze, the ground below began to shake, fazing no one but you.
Jeonghan pulled you out of the way of what seemed like a large mechanical bull charging towards you with an equally large man perched on top of it. A smaller man arrived right behind, riding a….. A leopard???
“You said you would win.” The muscled man slid off the mechanical creature, patting it. “My baby is faster.”
“I said a cheetah would win. My baby is a tiger.”
“It's a leopard.” You corrected, earning everyone's snickers and the not so threatening stare of its owner.
“It’s a big cat with an identity crisis.” Taking your hand in his, placing a soft kiss at the back of it, the muscle man gave you a fanged smile. “I’m Mingyu, Son of Hephaestus.”
The other man raised his hand. “Soonyoung, Son of Dionysis and that-” He turned to yet another one who was running over, looking frazzled.
“Seungkwan, Son of Hera, owner of a peacock that has yet again disappeared.” He bent over, grabbing his waist, panting and out of breath. “I don’t get why she keeps running away.”
“Maybe because you keep calling him a she.” Minghao nonchalantly glanced at his neatly filed nails.
“I can’t-” Seungkwan ran his fingers through his head, annoyed. “It’s confusing okay, who the fuck named him Patricia then?”
Behind you Jeonghan giggled.
“You coagulation of human evil,” Seungkwan threw his shoe, missing the target. “Now she- He won’t respond to any other name!”
The boys roared with laughter as Seungkwan unsuccessfully chased Jeonghan around, hands flailing everywhere.
Seungcheol walked over to you amidst all the mess, shooting you an understanding smile. “Your life has just undergone a major change, I get that it is intimidating but don’t worry. All thirteen of us are here to help you get through this.”
You nodded slowly, looking around at the boys, doing a quick, confirmatory headcount. “So there’s only thirteen of you?”
And why were all of them so gorgeous??
“Yeah, only.” Seungcheol chuckled, “Trust me thirteen is more than enough, I’ve got to run a very tight ship here.”
“I just assumed there would be seventeen people since, you know, Camp Seventeen.”
“The Oracle apparently told Woozi to name us Camp Seventeen.” He shrugged. “Not sure why.”
You hummed, as all of them gradually stopped behaving like toddlers and turned their attention to you.
“Wait,” The realization slowly dawned upon you. Actually, it hit you like a brick. “You’re all men.”
Seungcheol nodded carefully, like he didn’t know where you were going with this.
“Am I….Am I the only girl in the camp?”
Soft mutters went around as Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Yes and I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but unfortunately, it was not a choice.”
“It’s not common for a girl to be assigned to an all boys camp,” Joshua stepped up. “But I believe since Jeonghan and Wonwoo are working on the lawsuit that landed you here, the authorities of Olympus must have thought it is better for you to be here.”
“But it’s not permanent.” Seungcheol added. “You can choose to change camps after Quest Season if you wish-”
“What is Quest season?”
Jeonghan let out a loud sigh. “You’ve been here for what, ten minutes? Don't overwork your brain. The world of demigods is complex, you’ll learn everything with time.”
“He’s right.” Seokmin leaned against the tree near him. “Why don’t we first move your things to Seungcheol’s cabin? We’ll let you get settled, then Joshua can show you around camp, walk you through the rules and assign a duty-”
“Except.” Soonyoung looked at you from bottom to top, like he was assessing you. “What kind of duty?”
“Exactly.” Mingyu threw his arm around his friend, his expression matching. “Daughter of Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home, what would you be good for in this camp?”
Minghao hummed, walking up to you, bending to meet your eyelevel. “Well, what can a woman be good for in a camp of thirteen men?”
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A/n - next will be a detailed post about each member, their background and powers so it's less confusing for those who aren't so familiar with Greek mythology and the series will start after that so stay tuned!
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