#and feel more secure that they need him just as much as he needs them

[thememestrider]

40k Sfw Alphabet - Vulkan

I'm pretty new to 40k tumblr, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm yet to see many sfw/nsfw alphabets for our men, and I don't think I've seen any for the primarchs. As a big fan of the alphabets, I thought I'd do some; for my own enjoyment more than anything, but I'm hoping some of you guys will enjoy them too :)

I'm kicking off the biggest, strongest and most huggable of the primarchs: Vulkan.

Apologies for typos and ooc/lore inaccuracies

Please enjoy

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think it goes without saying that Vulkan would be a very affectionate partner. He wears his heart on his sleeve and unlike many of his brothers, he's not one to hide or suppress his emotions. If he loves someone, he will want them to know it and he will want everyone else around to know it. Everyday. All the time. Without missing a beat.

Vulkan would show his affection visibly through physical touch, gestures and by saying it outright. Everyday, he will say "I love you". Every chance he gets, he's going to have a hand on you, be it touching your thigh when you're both seated at a meeting or resting his hand on your lower back while walking the halls of his flagship.

B - Best friend (What are they like as a friend? How would the friendship start?)

Vulkan is be the ultimate emotional-support bestie. This isn't even a head cannon: this is lore-accurate fact. When he reunited with Rogal Dorn, he gave him a hug. Before the Heresy, he believed in trying to redeem Konrad Curze. He is the most empathetic and emotionally intelligent of the primarchs, and all everybody knows it. As a friend, he'd be damn-near perfect.

As for how your friendship would start, I think it'd be pretty easy/straightforward. Right from the start, you'd feel how good the vibes around this man were and he'd feel the same way. You two would just click right away. It'd start with a simple conversation- maybe you bumped into each other at some political event, or maybe you met on the training grounds and wound up sparring or training together. From there, your friendship would only grow, and it would last for the rest of your lives.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Is it just me or does it feel like a lot of these are almost self explanatory? OF COURSE Vulkan likes to cuddle. When you are in his arms, he knows you are safe. He knows you feel loved. And, as I very much see his love language being physical touch, cuddles make HIM feel loved.

He has no preference as to how you two cuddle- just whatever you prefer. He does like it when you lay atop his chest, where he can lay his arms across your back, hold you like a comforter, and keep you both warm.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

At his core, Vulkan is a protector. A builder. So having a place where he can feel secure and be at peace isn't just something he would want; it's something he needs. And when you become a part of his life, this need would only grow deeper.

Since Vulkan is a black-smith, and therefore already apt at building and using his hands (wink) I can see him being a skilled cook. He'd love cooking for you, too- it's another way he can show how much he loves you.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Of all the primarchs, Vulkan would be the best to have a break up with. As mentioned earlier, he is extremely empathetic and he has very good emotional intelligence. If he were to break up with you, it'd be with an in-person conversation where he explains how he feels and let's you down very, very gently. If you were to break up with him, he would understand, and try to ensure that you both part on good terms. However, behind closed doors, he'd be heart broken and he would grieve the loss of your relationship deeply and agonisingly.

F - Fiancé (How to they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Commitment goes hand-in-hand with loyalty, and Vulkan is one of the most loyal men out there. As soon as he knows he loves you, he's going to want to keep you. He wants you to be his, and he wants to be yours.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally?)

Do I really need to answer this?

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Again- do I really need to answer this?

I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I could see him saying it pretty quickly, what with how quickly and stronglyI see you both bonding emotionally. With how intune he is with his feelings, I think he'd recognise fairly quickly that what he feels for you is love and that you need to know it- if not to be in a relationship with you, then at least to give you a heads up in case you didn't feel the same way.

J - Jealous (How jealous do they get? What are they like when they're jealous?)

Vulkan is loyal. He trusts you as much as he hopes you trusts him. As such, he doesn't get jealous- he doesn't feel he has any reason to be.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Long, deep and absolutely brimming with love. Gentle, too. Even in more passionate moments, he'd never hurt you, not even by accident. He likes to kiss you on the lips, mainly, as he considers that to be the most emotionally intimate. That said, he does enjoy it when, while laying on top of him, you kiss him down his neck and along his collarbones.

L - Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Vulkan is maybe the only primarch who is 100% perfect with children. He's just the sweetest man there ever was. I think he'd like the idea of having children, too, but only if it was what you wanted. If you didn't want kids, he wouldn't push the issue.

M - Mornings (How are morning spent with them?)

Slow and sleepy. Neither of you would want to get up. Vulkan, in particular, would simply love to spend the entire day holding you, dozing off to the feeling of your body pressed against his.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He's definitely falling asleep with his arms around you. Either spooning you from behind or holding you across his chest like a blanket.

O - Openess (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal things slowly over time or all at once?)

As soon as it's clear how much you two click, Vulkan will begin to open up to you. Slowly at first so as not to overwhelm you, and from there, at about the same rate you feel comfortable opening up with him. I think he'd really dislike it if you kept things from him, too. Your happiness is his number one concern, and the idea that you didn't feel comfortable or safe telling him something would distress him very much.

P - Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Already, Vulkan has the patience of a saint. But with you? It's damn-near infinite. It might be thinner if he's stressed or worn down, but if he snaps at you or says something a little too sharp, he will realise immediately and apologise right away.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail or do they forget the minor things?)

You're the most important thing in this man's life, of course he's going to remember everything about you. Moreover, he's going to use that knowledge for the gifts he crafts for you in his forge. Did you once mention off-handed that daisies were your favourite flower? Don't be surprised if the next day, you find a box with a daisy pendant left for you on your duchess. You mention how much you'd love a pet to keep you company while he's away crusading? Vulkan's going to get you a kitten or a puppy the next day- and he'll know which to get you, because he'll remember whether you're a cat person or a dog person.

R - Remember (What's their favourite memory of the relationship?)

I thought long and hard about this for a while, but honestly I struggled to come up with a specific example. Maybe you guys tell me in the comments or the reblogs what you think it might be, based on how you'd imagine your relationship with Vulkan.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Because you're a human, Vulkan would be very physically protective of you. He would want you living as far from any war as was possible, and even then, wherever you would end up living would be heavily defended by his legion. I could see him keeping you on Nocturne or Prometheus, as they are his and his sons' homeworlds, but both those places are very hostile in of themselves (Im pretty sure Nocturne is even considered a Death World), so maybe he'd set you up on a peaceful pleasure world or something of the like; overseen by a regiment of Salamanders, of course.

Vulkan is not only the largest primarch, but he's one of the most capable in combat. He's also a perpetual, and therefore functionally immortal. For these reasons, he doesn't need much physical protection- at least none of the kind you might be able to offer. But on the other hand, Vulkan absolutely needs something to guard his heart. He is a deeply emotional man and is very sensitive to grief and the suffering of others. When he looses his sons in combat or fails to save innocents from death, he will need your comfort. He'll need you to hold him tight, maybe even offer your shoulder for him to cry on. He'll need your assurance and your unconditional love. Of course, all of these things you're more than happy to give. As much as he needs and more.

T - Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts and everyday tasks?)

Vulkan would love nothing more than to go all out with all of these things a the time, but the demands of war and his duties as a primarch make it difficult to consistently. When he has the time, he will absolutely spoil you.

Regardless of how busy he is, you would always be receiving many, many gifts- jewellery, ornaments and cute, personalised knick-knacks that hand crafted by Vulkan in his forge.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

If you're not careful, his protectiveness over you could start to feel overwhelming, especially during the events of the Heresy. Additionally, his desire to tend to your every emotional need may lead to you feeling smothered. But the moment you tell him how you're feeling, Vulkan would listen. He might slip back into those habits every now and then, but again, with time and good communication, he would eventually change for the better. Doesn't mean he'll stop protecting you, though- it just means he'll be less overt about it.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Vulkan is about the humblest man you could ever meet- vanity isn't a word in his vocabulary.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Without question.

X - Xtra (A random head cannon for them)

The Salamanders would revere you just as much as they do their father. They'd see you as their parent, and they'd hope that you would see them as your sons. Being assigned to your personal guard would be among their greatest honours, and you would come to know every marine on your guard personally. When it was their turn to return to Nocturne to see their families, you might even come along, for if the Salamanders are your sons, their families are your families as well.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like in a partner, or in general?)

Arrogance, a lack of empathy, selfishness and anything synonymous with those three things.

Z - Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

Despite appearances, I can see Vulkan struggling with insomnia and even nightmares, purely because he's such a sensitive man thrust into the most brutal and horrific wars. The insomnia would ease the moment he had you to hold at night, but his nightmares would take longer to fade. If he wakes up in a state, gasping for air and drenched in sweat, he will need you to comfort him- to listen as he talks through what he saw. To cradle his head or hold him him around the waist as he drifts back to sleep. This will become even more frequent following his torture at the hands of Curze.

[willowsnook]

community relations (18+)

Pulled pork! Vinegar! Wrap! ~ Mike’s Way ~ Thank you for this, such a great idea!!

quinn hughes x coworker!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

—----------------------------------------------------

“I have an observation from today,” Quinn said as you packed up after the event.

The local children’s hospital had sent some kids to skate with Canucks players, including their captain, who was lingering behind.

“And what’s that?” you asked, glancing up over the box you were carrying.

“You don’t know how to skate,” he said, smirking.

“I do not,” you admitted with a smile.

“How?” he asked, bewildered. “You literally work for a hockey team.”

Shrugging, you passed him the box. “My job doesn’t require me to be on the ice.”

“But still,” he persisted, following you to the storage closet. “Let me teach you.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip.

“Not for another hour,” he replied, grinning wide. “Now let’s find you some skates, princess.” Before you could protest, he was already running off. Sighing, you followed, wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.

Quinn was the most requested player for community events, so you spent a lot of time with him. At first, he was quiet and reserved, but over time, your friendship grew, making your job easier and more fun.

After discovering you weren’t a hockey fan growing up, he took it upon himself to teach you the basics. Today’s lesson, however, would take place on the ice.

Sitting on a bench, you watched as Quinn tied your skates. His fingers moved deftly, and he glanced up at you with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You clung to the wall as he led you onto the rink, showing you the basics before holding out his hands. Taking them hesitantly, you shuffled off the wall, Quinn skating backward to guide you.

“That’s it!” he encouraged. “Isn’t it fun?”

“Not really,” you replied, earning a loud laugh from him.

As you completed a lap, you began to wobble. Quinn tightened his grip, pulling you into his chest as you stumbled. His arm wrapped securely around your waist, steadying you.

“Easy,” he murmured, his face inches from yours. Your cheeks flushed at the proximity, and neither of you moved.

“I think you can let go of me now,” you teased, breaking the tension. Quinn stepped back, his cheeks reddening as he guided you off the ice.

Later that afternoon,  your mind wandered to the interaction. Quinn was undeniably attractive—and kind—but he was also your coworker, the captain of the team. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to feel this way about him, but he wasn’t making it easy to resist.

Making yourself dinner, you picked up your phone to Facetime your sister. 

“Hey y/n,” she greeted as her face popped up on the screen. 

“Hey J,” you replied, propping the phone up. “Ready for this weekend?

She was visiting Vancouver to visit you and catch a game as your guest. You were excited, as you hadn’t seen her since over the summer and were very much in need of a girl's weekend. 

“So ready, I also expect you to take me bar hopping after the game on Saturday,” she said and you giggled. 

“Dangerous,” you replied, remembering the very rough nights the two of you had shared while going out. 

“I have to go, but I’ll see you when I land tomorrow,” she said before hanging up. This was going to be a long weekend.

—--------------------------------------------------------

“That was amazing,” Jaelen said after the final buzzer went off. The Canucks had won easily and you were happy just to be a fan for this game rather than an employee. “I want to be a WAG so bad.”

You laughed at your sister, knowing this was nothing new. The first thing she said when you told her you got the job a couple of years ago was ask when she could meet some of the players. 

“Do you know where they go out after the game?” she asked, and you sighed, trying to look away. “Omg, you do!”

Because of Quinn’s insistence that you eventually join him to celebrate one of these days, you knew the usual hangout was a small bar a couple of blocks away. You lived close to the arena, so you decided to stop by your apartment first and change into a pair of black jeans and a tight white top. You made a couple of martinis to pregame and eventually made your way to the bar. 

A lot of the hockey team was already there when you both arrived, and you spotted Quinn standing by the bar chatting with someone you thought might be one of his brothers. Jaelen was already dragging you to the bar, and you avoided his gaze as you stood up to order. 

“Put her drink on my tab,” you heard him say as he approached you. You looked over at him with a small smile on your face and met his eyes, sparkling with amusement. 

“Finally made it, and I didn’t even text you this time,” he teased. 

“My sister wanted to come out,” you defended. 

“Lot of bars in Vancouver, princess,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, she wants to bag one of your teammates,” you admitted. Quinn stepped closer to you, bringing his mouth to your ear. 

“I like how you didn’t include me as one of the options there,” he whispered, and you were instantly flustered, not even realizing what you had said. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled before sipping your drink. His smirk widened at your discomfort. 

“Hi, I’m Jack,” the guy he had been with earlier interrupted, holding his hand out. Quinn shot him a look of annoyance, but Jack’s smile didn’t falter. 

“Y/n,” you replied, shaking his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, making Quinn blush and you smiled. “And I can see why.”

Jack shamelessly checked you out and you tilted your head, amused at the brother. 

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You replied, locking eyes once again. 

“Only for you, sweetheart,” he flirted, and you felt a slight blush cross your features. Quinn was frowning now as he glared at Jack, who shot him a wink. You chatted a little longer with the boys, well mostly Jack, as Quinn had grown quieter as the night went on. Jack finally left to go to the bathroom and you turned to him. 

“You okay?” You asked and he looked down at you, clearly contemplating saying something. 

“I don’t like him flirting with you,” he admitted and you looked at him confused. 

“He’s just being nice,” you countered and he gave you a look. 

“I know my brother.” 

“I’m not going to hook up with him Quinn,” you said amused, grabbing your purse. “There’s only one Hughes brother I’m interested in and it’s not him. I’ll see you later.” 

His eyes widened as he processed your words and he watched you walk away. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks had passed since then, and Quinn had definitely been more flirty with you but hadn’t made a move. You were starting to get worried that you had said too much that night at the bar; it was exactly why you avoided drinking around him in the first place. 

It was the week before Thanksgiving and you were going to your good friend Rachel’s house for a Friendsgiving party. She had done it each year for the past three and it always meant a good meal and then sitting around a bonfire, drinking and talking. You had been looking forward to it all month; it was a good chance to get away from work and just relax. It didn’t seem like work would be getting away from you, though, as you looked over to see Quinn stepping out of an Uber at the same time you pulled up. 

“What’s up princess?” He asked with a grin, taking the potato dish you brought out of your hands. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked befuddled. 

“I’m friends with Rachel’s new boyfriend,” he said and you nodded. Rachel had started dating this guy she had met at work a couple of months ago. You had yet to meet him but had heard good things. “You’re friends with Rachel, right?”

“Yeah,” you told him as you walked in the house. 

“Y/n!” Rachel called as you made it into the kitchen. She was wearing a cute little apron over her sweater and jeans and you hugged her in greeting. “Meet Paul!”

Her boyfriend gave you a kind smile, shaking your hand before turning to pull Quinn into a hug. 

“What’s up huggy?” Paul said and you watched amused as the two boys caught up. 

“I totally forgot to tell you that Quinn was coming. You guys see each other a lot at work, right? " she asked, and you nodded. “He’s cute.” 

“Rachel,” you warned and she smirked. 

“Just saying.”

You helped her with the final touches as everyone else arrived, Quinn staying in the kitchen with you guys, nursing a beer. 

“Okay, everyone, grab a plate and food, and let's eat!” Rachel called, and you joined her in line. You filled your plate and moved to the dining room, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as Quinn took the spot next to you. 

“So how long have you two been together?” One of Rachel’s friends asked you and Quinn. Other conversations flowed in the background as you looked at Quinn quickly before answering. 

“We aren’t together, just coworkers,” you said and she nodded. 

“Just coworkers, not even friends?” Quinn said, pouting and you rolled your eyes. 

“Friends,” you confirmed and Rachel gave you a wink from where she was sitting. 

“I didn’t know you worked for the Canucks,” the girl continued and you nodded, taking a sip of your wine. 

“Yeah, have been for a couple of years now,” you told her. 

“That’s so lucky. I’d love to work around a bunch of hot athletes,” she said, and you choked a little on your drink, causing Quinn to grin. 

“Yeah, she is lucky,” he teased, and you shot him the finger. The rest of dinner went smoothly. You had a couple more glasses of wine before slowly following the group outside as Paul got the fire going. It was chilly, and you regretted already not having brought your heavier coat.

Quinn was already sitting back in one of the outdoor chairs, watching you as you got closer. 

“Cold princess?” He asked as you got closer and you crossed your arms shaking your head. 

“I’m fine,” you said but shivered involuntarily, causing him to give you a teasing smile. 

“Come sit in my lap,” he said and you gave him a death glare. 

“I’m not sitting in your lap,” you said and he smirked looking around. 

“Where else are you going to sit?” 

Sure enough, Rachel had invited more people than usual, and there were actually no seats open. You held your head high, determined not to show him his effect on you, and you moved closer to him. His eyes widened as you sat down on his lap, and he set down his beer next to him so that he could adjust you into him. 

Rachel was grinning widely at you from the next chair over and you ignored it, just jumping in to ask her about work. You chatted with Rachel for a while, enjoying the warmth Quinn provided with his arms wrapped around you. She got pulled into another conversation and you turned your attention to Quinn. 

“You’re being quiet,” you said and he gave you a small smile. 

“I’m enjoying the peacefulness,” he said and you smiled. “Still cold?”

“A little,” you replied and he shifted so you could lean into his chest. His head rested on top of yours. “Better.”

“Good,” he hummed. You watched the fire for a little bit before shifting again to get comfortable. 

“Stop moving,” Quinn rasped and you moved again to look up at him, earning a small groan. You were about to ask what was wrong but you felt it. He gave you a pointed look as you smirked, feeling him hard underneath you. 

“What’s wrong Huggy?” You teased as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Don’t be a tease,” he grunted. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. Looking around to see everyone engrossed in their own conversations, you smirked before resting your head on his shoulder for a second, bringing your lips to his neck, and nipping at the skin. 

Quinn lifted you off his lap, standing up with his hand holding onto yours tightly. 

“I think we’re going to head out,” he told Rachel and Paul. Rachel looked at you knowingly and stood up to hug you goodbye. You said goodbye to some other friends before following Quinn through the house and back out towards your car. 

The car was filled with a charged silence as you and Quinn sat next to each other, both knowing what was about to happen. 

You broke the stillness by casually asking, "Your place or mine?" Quinn's eyes flickered down to your lips, and without a word, he leaned over the console and grabbed the side of your head, pulling you closer to him. His lips met yours in a fiery kiss, his breath mingling with yours as he punished you for your teasing at the bonfire earlier. Your body responded eagerly, melting into his touch as you whimpered into the kiss. A small smirk tugged at Quinn's lips before he pulled back, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“Your place as long as this isn’t a one-time thing,” he said and your eyes widened as you caught your breath. 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

“I don’t do one-night stands,” he said simply and you tried to understand his words. 

“So you want to hook up more than once,” you said, and he chuckled, looking at you in amusement. 

"Forget just hooking up, princess. I want to take you out on real dates. I want to be by your side constantly. I need to see you outside of work, in every moment possible," he declared, his words igniting a fiery passion in your heart.

“But it’s really not allowed,” you said, shoulders sagging. 

“There is no rule against it,” he countered and you sat back thoughtfully. 

“Fine,” you agreed and he smiled. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“I’d be insane not to like you,” he said and you pressed your lips to his again, softer this time. 

You were nervous as you made the drive to your apartment. Quinn was quiet in the seat next to you, but his hand on your thigh assured you that he wanted this. He followed you out of the garage and up to your apartment, taking in the cozy space that was so you. 

After throwing your keys on the counter and taking your jacket off you stood facing him wanting him to make the next move. He eyed you slowly before coming towards you, raising his hand to hold the side of your head. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered and you hummed in agreement. That was all it took and his lips were on yours, his other hand pulling your hips into him. His lips moved harshly against yours, nipping at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp. 

Hands finding your ass, he lifted you up, letting you wrap your legs around him as he carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down gently, without breaking the kiss, hovering over your body. 

Quinn's hands roamed your body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. You arched into him, craving more contact. He broke away to trail kisses down your neck, sucking gently at your pulse point.

"Quinn," you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured.

You blushed at his words, pulling him back down to capture his lips again. Your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his abs. Quinn groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.

Sitting up slightly, he tugged off his shirt before helping you remove yours. His eyes roamed your newly exposed skin hungrily.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, pulling him back down to you. "I'm sure," you whispered against his lips.

Quinn's hands skimmed down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before cupping your breasts. You gasped as his thumbs brushed over your nipples.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck to your chest.

His mouth replaced his hands, tongue swirling around one nipple as his fingers teased the other. You arched into him, hands fisting in his hair as pleasure coursed through you.

Quinn continued his path downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach. He looked up at you as he unbuttoned your jeans, silently asking permission. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your thong.

Quinn's eyes roamed over your now fully nude form, a look of awe on his face. "You're incredible," he breathed.

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his stubble creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. When he reached your center, he placed a gentle kiss there before slowly running his tongue along your folds.

You gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. Quinn gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his attention. His tongue circled your clit before sucking it into his mouth, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Quinn, please," you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.

He slid a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that made you see stars. Adding a second finger, he pumped them in and out in tandem with the movements of his tongue.

“Fuck Quinn I’m gonna cum,” you whined out and he increased his pace. Your hands were gripping the sheets on either side of you and you struggled in his hold as your orgasm washed over you. He cleaned you up before coming back up to kiss your lips.

Quinn kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh through his jeans. Reaching down, you palmed him through the fabric, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"These need to come off," you murmured, tugging at his waistband.

Quinn quickly shed his remaining clothes, kicking them off the bed. Your eyes roamed his now naked form appreciatively. He was all lean muscle, his body honed from years of hockey.

"Like what you see?" he asked with a smirk.

"Very much," you replied, pulling him back down to you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his length slide against your wet folds. Quinn reached between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance. He paused, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked one final time and you nodded, gasping as he pushed into you. “Fuck princess, you’re so tight.”

Quinn stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. You rolled your hips, signaling him to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, gradually building up speed.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Quinn quickened his pace, his hips slamming into yours. You could feel your climax building, the pressure coiling in your belly.

Suddenly, Quinn changed positions, pulling you on top of him and sitting up against the headboard. He held onto your hips as you rode him, setting a pace that had both of you panting.

You leaned back, hands on his thighs for support as you tilted your hips to hit that spot inside you again and again. Quinn's fingers dug into your skin as he watched you pleasure yourself on him.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this," he groaned, and it pushed you over the edge.

You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you once again, Quinn following soon after with a loud groan.

You lay there, panting and tangled in each other’s arms. Quinn pressed kisses along your neck and jaw, before pulling out of you.

"That was incredible," he said, flopping down beside you.

"Mhmm," you agreed, snuggling into his side.

“I was being serious about what I said earlier,” he said and you looked up to him. “I want all of you.”

“Then you can have me,” you said leaning up to kiss him. 

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 8

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 8 - Excision Part Two (Criminal Minds Case Time)

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Smoking. Slow Burn. Murder. Depictions of Flaying. Implied Rape. Mentions of Date Rape Drugs. Strangulation. Restraints. Mental Institutions. PTSD. Childhood trauma. Psychological Trauma. Implied references to child abuse. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6k

AO3

Chapter 7

You were hanging out in Prentiss' hotel room later in the evening. She was able to reserve three rooms for you all at a hotel in Indio to be close to the unsub’s hunting grounds. You all decided to eat dinner together while processing the information gleaned from the M.E. and Rossi’s interviews, which ended about an hour ago. You all felt you could think clearer here than at the station. Sheriff Grosch was breathing down yours and Prentiss’ necks every step of your investigation since the tox screen came back. It was unbearable. Even you being direct that you needed space to work without constant interruptions that had nothing to do with the case fell on deaf ears. So, the two of you said fuck it and called Rossi to meet you at the hotel. The station knew how to contact you if anything further came up. Local law enforcement had given you everything you needed and were just in the way at this point and explained you would have the profile nailed down soon to announce at the station late tonight.

Garcia had given you a brief update on the ‘Home Team’. JJ, Luke, and Tara almost had the unsubs but were distracted by them hacking into the Bluetooth speakers to lead the BAU away from their exact location in the house. They were able to flee the scene with two more dead guards to process. They worked out the profile and announced it to local PD. They believe they’re local so they’re hoping they can make an arrest soon.

You also feel that the unsub is local based on the geographical profile you worked out that was taped on the mirror over the flatscreen. You had marked up the dumping grounds of both bodies, where they lived, worked, and where they were last spotted. There was far too much overlapping for the unsub not to be familiar with the area. They were staying inside safe hunting grounds.

Dave was able to find out that McGarth was meeting a woman for drinks at the bar. It wasn’t just a wind down and hopefully get laid. The meet up sounded like a date. Unfortunately, his boss and the other members of the firm had no idea who this mystery woman was. Garcia was running through dating apps to see if there was a match with McGarth, but the guy was a player. He had several apps and lots of ladies that he was chatting it up with. That would take time on top of Garcia working with the home team in tracking down the security guard murderers, but she assures you all that she’s got this.

Sulliven’s family and his assistant were not helpful. The timeline indicated that he left work like usual but never made it home. His family thought he was working late at the office, which was not unusual.

You also learned that neither victim was sexual assaulted nor had any trace residue of semen. That was the part that was baffling the three of you – the method didn’t match up with the assault.

Rossi was sitting at the desk, using a fork to eat his orange chicken which made both you and Prentiss poke fun of him since the two of you were using chopsticks.

Prentiss was currently on the bed plucking out a peapod. “So why drug them? I get the sedation but drugging them with no signs of sexual aggression doesn’t add up.”

“The drugs were used on both victims,” says Rossi. “It’s possible that’s what they had access to.”

“But flunitrazepam isn’t sold in the US. Even doctors barely use it in other countries” you add before munching on a steamed shrimp. You had made yourself comfortable on the floor sitting cross legged.  

“But they can?” Rossi leans back thoughtfully. “Not common but possible.”

You shrug. “Not unless you bring a script to your local drug dealer. And by script, I mean cash.”

“With how meticulous our unsub is, I find it hard to believe that they’d visit a drug dealer.” Prentiss shakes her head and motions animatedly with her hands, keeping a firm grip on the veggie between chopsticks. “They like being in control. Everything’s done with precision and going into the wrong part of town meeting a drug dealer gives up a lot of control.”

“A lot of countries have access to it. Australia, Japan, Mexico … quite a few countries in Europe.” You were well aware of this having worked with Interpol investigating a serial rapist in the UK and Ireland. Despite being legal, flunitrazepam was used as a date rape drug in other countries as well. “Can always narrow down our doctor pool with any international travel.”

Garcia’s search brought back over five thousand surgeons in Thermal area. With the flaying technique used, you narrowed it down to plastic surgeons but that only got the suspect pool down to over two thousand. You were in California. There were a shit ton of plastic surgeons.

“And with the bodies being relatively untouched, the unsub is probably female,” says Rossi. “Majority of rape victims are women. Especially with the use of date rape drugs.” He pauses in consideration. “Is it possible that our unsub picked her victims because they’re sexual offenders?”

Prentiss immediately facetimes Garcia on her laptop who immediately appears with a friendly wave. “Hello my fine furry friends. What’s up?”

Emily stabs her chopsticks into the food and sets aside the container. “Cross check police reports on our victims.”

“Anything specific we’re looking … Oh…” Her voice drops solemnly. “Am I looking for something extremely bad like rape charges? Cuz, I’m finding that both of them have that in common. As in they both were charged for the same incident.”

“They were convicted?” you ask in bewilderment since nothing came up on their background checks.

“Uh, no. Both of them had the charges dropped. Oh, get this. Alcohol was involved and it was indeterminate if consent was obtained or not and the poor darlings took some time before they reported the assault. Both men lawyered up really good, which is not surprising for a paralegal and a psychiatrist. One being able to use connections and the other having the money. They just up and ran with the lack of physical evidence even though hair samples on the victims detected our unsubs drug of choice. There was no way to prove these jerk faces did it.”

“Who pressed charges?” Rossi asks.

“Uh, Desiree Villanueva and Lauren Conway. Couple of friends trying to have a nice girls’ night when … ah damn. There was a third man involved. A Robert MacDonald - some banker at Wells Fargo.”

“Lovely. Little rich boys club wanted to play and wouldn’t take no for an answer,” states Rossi with disgust.

“Are either victim on our plastic surgeons list?” Prentiss questions next.

“Nope. Waitress and jeweler.”

“But we’re on to something with the unsub being a woman. How many are those plastic surgeons are female?” you request of Garcia.

“Little over four hundred.”

“Any of them show up on McGarth’s dating apps?”

“Ah … yes! Dr. Sandra Duncan! Has a practice in La Quinta.” Garcia brings up her driver’s and medical license. She had short brown hair with wavy bangs and piercing blue eyes. She was caught in mid-smile.

“That’s in our geo profile,” you confirm.

“Has she been a victim of sexual assault?” presses Emily.

“Unfortunately. She accused a Benjamin Riley of drugging her at a bar called The Treehouse in 2015. They were students together at Standford. Charges were dropped in a similar manner like our victims. After that, she went on to finish medical school, get married to an engineer named Drew Arnold. Oh no…” she whimpers while continuing “… her daughter, Charolette, died of leukemia six months ago. Then her jerk of a husband served divorce papers.”

You, Rossi and Prentiss share a knowing look and immediately leave dinner where it is and grab your coats.

“Two triggers in such a short time is more than enough to make someone lose control,” you state. “The family she had to ground her is gone, so she’s turn vigilante. Helping those women when no one helped her.”

Prentiss nods. “And she’s taking off their faces, their masks as you said, to show them for the rapists they are. She’s angry they got away with it and regressed back to when this happened to her.”

“And being a physician, she has access to drugs like midazolam,” says Rossi as you all walk out of Prentiss’ hotel room, already on the phone with the sheriff station to get the location of Arnold’s personal residence and place of business. “We’ll need a unit on Robert MacDonald, DOB 2/23/97, out of Palm Springs. Our unsub’s going for him next if she doesn’t have him already,” he explains to dispatch.

“Any chance she’s gone abroad?” questions Prentiss as you all head outside to the parking lot where the two SUVs waited. Garcia was now talking over speaker phone.

“Why yes she did. Two months ago, in fact. Visited a cousin in Ipswich, just outside of Brisbane. Happened after the divorce.”

Prentiss stops in front of the vehicles. “Garcia, work with local law enforcement to get us warrants ASAP on Duncan’s home and work. Does she have a business partner?”

“She does not. All solo.”

“Good. We don’t have to wake anyone else and waste more time. Once those warrants are in have SWAT meet us at both locations. Rossi?” Prentiss calls out to get his attention. He places the phone against his chest, giving her his full attention. “You take Duncan’s home. We got the clinic. No moving inside without the warrants unless there’s signs of a victim. Clear?”

“Crystal. I’ve got Grosch on the line who’s grumpy about things moving so fast …”

“Fucker’s always grumpy unless he’s calling the shots or up our asses,” you mutter while leaning against the front of the car.

Rossi chuckles. “Yes, but he’s waking the judge to get everything legal. Units will meet us there and set up a perimeter. They’ve got a squad car heading to MacDonald’s right now.”

Prentiss nods. “Let’s roll.”

“Be safe my loves!” Garcia says and hangs up.

Without warning, Prentiss tosses you the car keys and you deftly catch them in surprise. “You’re letting me drive?”

“Why not?” she says, opening the passenger door. “Or is driving twenty miles too hard for the maniac driver of the CIA?”

You grin ear to ear. “No, Ma’am.”

A Toyota SUV with no headlights on makes its way down the driveway of a multibuilding business center. It slows and makes a right and then swings around to back up into the driveway for deliveries at the one-story single building at the far end of the complex.

The garage opens and the SUV disappears inside. Only until the garage door closed, did the driver side open. Dr. Sandra Arnold was dressed in nice blue jeans, black boots, and an off the shoulder floral blouse. Hair and make-up were pristine, complementing her features for the faux date. She made her way to the patient cart that was already set up with sheets and pushed it over to the side of the trunk. With a quick wave of her foot under the car, the trunk slowly opened revealing an unconscious Robert MacDonald.

She brought the cart around, locked it in place, and then slid Robert onto it by the sheet he was laying over. After a few adjustments of scooting him around, she pulls up the slide rails, hovering over his face with blue eyes filled with malicious intent.

Her black gloved hand gently strokes down a chiseled cheek, then chin, and repeats the gesture back up the other side. Fingers play with brown strands of short hair. She roughly combed her fingers through it and looks at his face objectively, pulling it side to side to finish making the mental notes required to mark her incisions.

She pulls back, nostrils flaring as her eyes closed. Hands ball into shaking fists as she breathes through the rage building inside her, stopping herself from injuring this bastard. She had plans and could not ruin them with a violent outburst. Her heart now races with anticipation knowing that the victims that could not find justice just like her would have the peace they deserved. The peace that was denied them with a broken system easily manipulated by rich men who didn’t want their careers ruined.

Can’t have a career if you’re dead. Can’t hurt another woman if you’re dead, too.

“And how many more women did you rape since then, huh?!” she hisses with clenched teeth as she unlocks the cart and roughly pushes him into the next room.

Captain Robles met you and Prentiss outside La Quinta Cosmetic Surgery with a warrant in hand close to sixty minutes later. In that time, you and Prentiss were vested up as SWAT had set up a perimeter around the stucco and modern style office building. It was closed to 1am and there was little public to redirect since this area was all businesses. The building itself was dark with no vehicles in the parking lot or immediate surroundings. Chances of Arnold and or MacDonald here was slim after the first walk through around the building, but you all had to move fast to be sure.

Chattering over the radio indicated Rossi and Sheriff Grosch were about to enter Arnold’s residence after no response to announcing FBI presence.

Now it was your turn.

Prentiss had already ordered Robles and his officers to set up positions by all exits of the building. You, Prentiss and the SWAT team were going to coordinate entrance on the section chief’s orders. You and Prentiss had your guns at the ready, pointed at the ground, as you flanked the doorway together.

You lock eyes with Prentiss who gives the go ahead and you speak into the radio that Robles provided both of you. “Ready in five … four …”

You go silent as all units would finish the count down and on one, a SWAT officer came swinging in with the two handed breaching tool to place right between the lock and jamb. With two soft slaps that sound like a piston, the door is breached and Prentiss heads in first, shoulder blocking the door fully open.

A cacophony of clears starts echoing in the empty rooms. You call some out yourself as you clear a utility closet and bathroom and work your way with Prentiss and SWAT down the hallway. You all fan out to cover the rest of the rooms. There were two offices and six examination rooms. All empty.

One of the officers comes up to Prentiss, assault rifle securely pointed to the floor. “Building’s secure. No one’s onsite, Ma’am.”

Holstering her Glock, she licks her lips in thought. “Spread out and search for anything connecting Arnold with the victims or where she’s at.”

You already wandered away from her to do just that and landed in the supply room to look around at all the basic medical equipment an office like this would have. All the sterile processing of surgical tools would be done somewhere else. You were about to turn around and leave when something caught your eye. A white strap dangling out of a floor cabinet. You lean forward to open it and feel a rush of memories.

“FUCK YOU!” you screamed, spitting at the male nurse’s aide’s face. Two of them were trying to grab your flailing limbs as you thrashed about on the bed. “I’M NOT GONNA GO!”

“Damn it!” the one orderly huffed, shaking his head along his shoulder to get his eyes clean of saliva.

It gave you the chance to kick him in the stomach when his grip loosened. But with the commotion you were causing, two more men came in to assist and grabbed ahold of you. You were outnumbered as they forced your hands and feet into the padded restraints.

Then there was the hated sharp sting into your thigh of forced medication …

You come out of the memory, not realizing you were already cradling the wrist restraint. With a hard swallow, you now know why those indentations seemed so familiar with the victims. You had them yourself at one point when some asshole tech tightened your restraints too hard. Of course, part of you still wondered if you deserved the rough treatment. That guilt that since you were a bad patient, you deserved the treatment you got. You were always physical and uncooperative with staff, and you didn’t give a shit who you hurt back then …

“Hey, Whitlock?” Prentiss’ voice forces you to look up and you curse the fact that you just know your cheeks are burning. There is no way she didn’t notice it, but she didn’t press. “Got something?” she asks instead.

“Uh, yeah.” You toss the restraint over to Prentiss and she catches it. “Pretty sure this is what Arnold’s using on her vics.”

She turns it over thoughtfully. “And we found midazolam in the med room. Arnold’s home’s empty but Rossi did find untouched ampules of flunitrazepam.”

You free the phone from your belt and call Garcia. “The princess is in another castle. We’re 0 for 2 here.”

Prentiss looks up at you but was unable to catch your gaze. You were focused on the call with Garcia. She did have some reservations with how you reacted to the restraint she was now holding and wondered if it would affect your ability to remain in the field.

“Let’s see what my crystal ball can tells us. Ah! Arnold did set up shop at a different office before the one you’re currently standing in. About eight months ago she moved from there before her whole world unraveled. Former office locale is currently vacant and just like that, you have messages with the address.”

You take a peek at your texts before responding. “Thanks, Garcia. We’ll keep in touch.”

“You better, missy!” You wince, hearing the commanding tone of wholesome concern. “Queen Penelope out.”

You start moving out of the room while pulling up directions to the office. “We’re six minutes away.”

You were focused and the section chief would keep her concern to herself and stay close to you as this unfolds. Prentiss’ voice carries loud and clear throughout the hallway as she leads the way. “Alright everyone, we’re moving out!”

Fully gowned with hair tied back under a blue surgical cap and face covered by a mask, Arnold adjusts her goggles as she leans forward to inspect her work one last time. MacDonald’s face was centered inside the hole of the surgical drape to where the markings were clearly visible. His neck and upper torso were covered as well with wrists and ankles secured to the cart by restraints.

With a practiced hand, she reaches for the instrument tray to pull closer. She slides a finger down the length of the scalpel handle before picking it up. Despite her malevolent intentions, her grip was gentle as she tilted his head to secure him for the first incision.

But she was interrupted by the double doors to the exam room being kicked open. Her eyes widened in terror as officers start shouting orders.

“FBI!!!” Prentiss yells, gun lined up for a shot as two SWAT follow suit to cut off Arnold’s escape routes.

“FREEZE!!!”

“LOWER YOUR WEAPON!!!”

You watch Arnold pull the scalpel closure to MacDonald’s neck, securing his head in a headlock. “Get away! Get the fuck away!!!”

All four of you had a clean shot to take Arnold, but there was a chance she could still do irreparable harm with how close the blade was to MacDonald’s neck.

“Sandra, you need to put the scalpel down,” Prentiss says firmly.

“Like hell I do!” she shouts back. “He fucking deserves this! They all fucking deserve this!”

“It’s bullshit the justice system failed you. Failed Desiree and Lauren. But this won’t take the pain away of what happened to you. To them,” Prentiss implores.

“No … but at least there’s some justice,” she hisses, the blade digging in just enough to draw a bead of blood on his neck.

“But is it really? Justice?” you ask as you lower your gun. Prentiss quickly looks at you and wonders what the hell you’re doing.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” she bites back, puffing her chest out arrogantly. “With him gone, that makes three less rapists in the world.”

“Alright. Let me ask it like this.” You hold your hand up as you put your gun away. Arnold remained engaged. “Does it feel like justice to you?”

She blinks her eyes several times and looks around the room, passing over Prentiss and the officers without focus. Your question stumps her. You can see how she is struggling to reconcile what justice means to her. You could even see the face mask crinkling as she was trying to find her words.

You nod with understanding, your eyes betraying the same conflict that Arnold has in trying to reconcile the feelings of violation and anger right now. You fight the shiver that threatens to run down your spine, needing to stand firm as the two of you share the same haunted look that does not go unnoticed by Prentiss.

“It’s doesn’t. It never will, Sandra. Even if you were able to find the one that hurt you, that you do this to him and declare justice in victory, through their death,” you slowly motion with your hand to the guy on the cart, “you’re trying to find peace.” You lick your lips as your throat tightens, regaining the control you need to get through to Sandra. “But there’s no peace.” You shrug tearfully. “It never comes. It never will. You just … have to find a way to live for yourself. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. You just have to find the strength to survive.”

You watch as Sandra’s throat bobs up and down several times as you all wait to see how this will go. Will she surrender or cause someone to pull their trigger and end this stalemate.

But then you hear her sniff as she blinks back tears. “You know.”

A statement that you affirm with a nod. “I do.”

She fights back a sob. “I was really trying to help them …”

Your watery eyes soften as you sadly smile. “I know.”

And it was in that moment that Arnold made her decision to step back, letting the scalpel fall to the floor with a loud clang. SWAT immediately went in to put cuffs on her and read her rights as you vaguely were aware of Prentiss calling in for a medic. Right now you are focused on watching Arnold being escorted away. The two of you kept eye contact, her watching you over her shoulder until more officers came running in to obscure the view.

“Hey…” Prentiss voice was like a loud boom that went off by your ear. The anxiety of forcing yourself to come back from such raw memories heightened everything around you.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You look passed Prentiss as a group of officers’ start assessing MacDonald.

She places a hand on your shoulder and since you didn’t flinch, she squeezes. “You did good getting her to surrender.”

There was a lot to unpack with what happened here. The enigma that you are just grew with what Prentiss learned tonight. It already started with the faraway look you had holding the restraints back at Arnold’s office. This unsettling revelation amplified so many questions that Prentiss wanted to know about you.

“Thanks,” you say, offering a forced half smile at her. “Better than her getting shot, right?”

She drops her hand and nods. “Yeah. She’ll get the help she needs.”

At that you laugh shakily. “Remains to be seen, but yeah. Hope so.” You felt conflicted about knowing that MacDonald was going to live because you understood where Arnold was coming from. There was a reason you didn’t share with Sandra that you personally rid yourself of your abuser. You would have lost the connection of trust built on shared trauma.

Prentiss watches you shambling off, unsettled with how your eyes had lost its luster. Seeing you sullen and devoid of your usual concealing humor was concerning.

Prentiss catches up with you after giving out last minute directives to secure the area until forensics arrive. Emergency lights flash brightly as officers were carrying out orders. Robles was here delegating tasks to where his people would contain the crime scene in and outside the building. You heard MacDonald moaning as the paramedics guided the gurney passed you to the ambulance. Whatever they had given him started to get the guy into some conscious awareness.

Rossi was waiting outside waiting for the two of you with a satisfied smile. “Sorry I’m late, but clearly you didn’t need me.”

You had stopped off to the side of Prentiss with hands tucked into your vest, your attention on watching Arnold being put into the backseat of a squad car.

“Whitlock talked Arnold down.” Prentiss explains with a small nod your way.

“How ‘bout that.” His smile grows and fights to catch your eyes. He raises a brow in question if he should push things, but Prentiss lightly shakes her head no. Getting the hint, he shifts gears. “Should we pull an all-nighter to tie things up on our end?”

“Might as well. I’d like to get the hell outta here. How about you?” She looks at you still staring off. “Whitlock?”

You didn’t acknowledge her, and Prentiss calls out your first name. That jars your attention as this was the first time you heard her say it. “Yeah?”

Rossi smiles patiently. He knew Whitlock was a seasoned officer but everyone’s first case with the BAU had a track record of rattling an agent. “We’re going to the station to get things squared away so we can hand it off to local PD. Sound good?”

You nod firmly with a tight smile. “Definitely.”

“It’s unfortunate this case’s a bust regarding Sicarius.”

“True. Maybe JJ and the others fared better.” Prentiss nods in agreement as both her and Rossi watch you wander off to the SUV.

“What happened in there that spooked her?” Rossi asks, moving closer to speak with Prentiss.

It didn’t feel right to explain it so candidly what you had gone through. It was best that Rossi read what the official reports said that you and she would write up. Anything more just invites a difficult conversation that she knew you wouldn’t be ready for. There was a burgeoning trust that had sparked between the two of you over drinks and she didn’t want to fuck that up.

“I think she just needs some time.” She watches you climb into the driver’s seat. “Like we all do when shit happens.”

You were sitting alone on one of the four seaters close to the window as the pilot confirmed you were at a safe altitude to move around the cabin. Rossi was passed out on the couch and Prentiss had just gotten up to head to the back of the plane.

You barely noticed, too focused on the music playing in your earbuds as you debated how to answer the text from Brian.

Dad sent 0330: How are things going?

You got that at the station over an hour ago and made a note to answer once the BAU wrapped things up. You were grateful that Prentiss and Rossi took the lead on what was needed to secure the case and that their official reports would be completed midweek. You tried to make mental notes on these protocols but your mind was elsewhere. Once you all signed off on what was required onsite, you drove the team back to the hotel to pack up and then it was off to the airstrip. An officer met you there to take the loaned vehicle.

You barely said a word except what was necessary. You hardly smiled. There were no quips, and you offered non-committal, I’m fines, when the two of them asked how you were. Prentiss was already piecing things further silently and was concerned. There was no way that a crime like this rattled you like Rossi had presumed. She knew you had seen far worse, and she can imagine in great detail what those situations were, having lived through many herself. You just hadn’t anticipated old wounds being ripped open with memories of darker times in your life to surface that made you feel like that lost tween Brian had recruited.

A soft thunk on the table startles you and you see Prentiss taking a seat across from you. There were two tumblers of whiskey before the both of you.

You stop the music with a furrowed brow in silent question. Prentiss explains gently. “Rough day. Thought you could use one.”

“Uh, yeah.” You take the glass to swirl the liquid around. “Though, isn’t it a bit early to drink?”

She shrugs. “Not in our line of work.”

You bring the glass up to your lips with a cleansing breath and figured, why not? You note the smell of whiskey and … “Did you just make me a Jack and Diet Coke?”

Prentiss’ head tilts slightly to the side, pleased you noticed. “I did.”

You raise your glass and give her your first genuine smile since talking Arnold down. “Thanks. Really.”

You both take a well-deserved drink and close your eyes at the warm burn that moves down your throat before radiating towards the rest of your body. You didn’t immediately relax, but the thoughtful gesture helps to provide focus. Enough so you found the strength to really look at Prentiss. You’ve seen enough as her brown eyes narrow in concentration, working on how to broach the unspoken but known.

You quickly lick your lips and set down the glass in a rush. “Don’t.”

Prentiss cautiously questions your reaction. “Don’t what?”

“Look at me like that. With pity.” You curl a hand into a fist to stop it from visibly shaking, but you watch in dismay that Prentiss already spots it.

She remains resolute in maintaining a steady eye contact once she has yours and emits a level of comfort and understanding. “It’s not pity. It’s understanding …”

Your felt your stomach sink, your chest tighten as a breath of surprise escapes without permission. You attempt to recover by clearing your throat and ask with hesitation. “Um. Really?”

That was a such a fucking dumb response to a monumental admission. Prentiss took the need for affirmation in stride. “Really.”

You pinch your brows and swallow hard, your lips trembling ever so slightly. “Well …that really fucking sucks.”

Prentiss chuckles bitterly. “Ain’t that the truth.” She opens a compartment under the table and pulls out a deck of cards. Tapping the case on the table, skilled fingers open the lid to remove the cards and starts shuffling. The methodical way she splits the deck and layers it back together with a rippling noise was comforting to you. “Did you wanna talk about it?”

You shrug still watching slender fingers be in complete control of the cards. “Do you really need to ask?”

“Well, it’s usually polite.” Her face scrunches up coyly.

You half snort and appreciate what she’s attempting to do. You finally look up at her. “What’re we playing?”

“Anything you want. Gin, poker, cribbage…?”

“Well, Rossi’s sleeping.” You sit up just enough to confirm he still was and sit back down. You thoughtfully rub your cheek as Prentiss finishes shuffling. Her compassion had truly touched you and even though your emotions were not fully boxed up as tightly you liked, you decided to say fuck it and have some fun. You waggle your brows, showing Prentiss you were feeling a little better. “There’s always strip poker.”

Prentiss cackles and you shush her, waving your hand to lower her voice. She starts dealing for a five-card draw. “There’s the Whitlock I know.”

You take each card that comes your way to sort them in your hand after rolling your eyes. “Figure you were missing her. I know you just love my antics.”

She wouldn’t admit it just yet, but she was. She fans the cards in her hand and studies them. “Possibly.”

You fall into companionable silence taking turns picking up cards, sipping your drinks, and showing your hands. You play several rounds and the two of you end up being even for wins and losses.

It was your turn to shuffle and you off-handedly ask a question that’s been on your mind. “Did they get the guy that hurt you?”

The two of you gaze intently as she slides her cards over. “Yes.”

You set the deck between you and reach for your glass. “Is he dead?”

The answer is immediate. “Yes.”

You take a healthy swallow as you debate on asking your next question. You slide your tongue along the front and back of your top teeth and find the courage to ask. “Did you kill him?”

She shakes her head no. “Someone else pulled the trigger.”

You lean back, shoulders slumping forward as the small similarities that could exist between two survivors ends. You fiddle with the cards, forcing them to ripple against the table as Prentiss waits you out calmly.

“I pulled the trigger,” you confess quietly. “I didn’t have to do it. But I wanted to. So … I did.”

 With no response from Prentiss, you dare to look up but see no judgement, just an attentive listener that sought whatever you wanted to reveal.

 “It’s partially why I was recruited.” That admission caught both of you by surprise and you try to backpedal. “I … fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.” You roughly sit up and lean over the table to get your cards in order. You’re such a fucking idiot!

“Hey, it’s alright,” she says gently. “I won’t say anything.” She could tell you weren’t convinced by how your eyes darkened with fear. She reaches out to lightly touch your arm and was glad you didn’t pull away. The warmth of her fingers soothed the fast-paced beating of your heart for fucking up again. Though this one was far worse than letting slip up about the AWOL matter. You really should have cut Rebecca off when she mentioned it and not join in the frivolity.

She takes a chance and squeezes your arm. “Promise. It’s like you keeping the sleepovers in my office a secret.”

Prentiss’ cheeky remark made you smile. Then you chuckle. “Okay, to be fair? You sleeping on your office couch isn’t a national secret.”

“Work with me here, Whitlock.”

“I am!”

You both share a smile and when Prentiss starts to pull away, you place your cards face up so you can cover her hand. She found it impossible to hide the astonishment at your gesture. “Thanks, Emily.”

She pauses for the right words to say, further touched by using her first name. She softly says yours and simply adds. “You’re welcome.” Then brown eyes look to the hand you gave up and tsks at you.

You’re confused. Did you do something wrong? “What?”

“Honey, you gave up a pair of aces.” She gestures to the cards as you both finally untangle your hands.

“Well, fuck me, I did.” You chuckle and pull out your phone after sliding the cards to Prentiss. “Here, get us started. Just gotta check in with Brian.” You point an accusing finger at the section chief. “And you especially can’t tell him anything about this conversation.”

She scrunches her face playfully. “What conversation?”

You grin brightly. “Exactly.” And then finally type up a simple response to Brian.

Whitlock sent 0527: Going very well.

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven @maybe-a-humanbean

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (X – ADAR)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST ALTERNATIVE ENDING (SAURON)

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You are trying your best to support Adar even when his own children are starting to doubt him. Another challenge that you must face is him learning about your secret.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — First of all, thank you so much for your comments under every part and your support because this fic (and this fandom) was what brought back my joy for writing! 😊 This part is less canon-like than the alternative ending where The Reader chooses Sauron but I just had to give them a happy ending here! 🥰 BTW, I was googling the Elven word for "mother" and I hope I used the right one because there were so many... 😫

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship

WORD COUNT — 4,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (X – ADAR)

You spent the rest of the day and half of the night inside the forest, in your new favourite place, feeling uneasy. Alone, just in case Sauron wanted to reach out to you again. But he was not making such attempts and it was making you anxious more than ever. His wrath was something you did not want to experience yourself and you knew very well that you had earned it.

Nervously fidgeting with the wedding band around your finger, you were sitting there by the fallen tree and listening to the sounds of the battle taking place nearby. Once more, you felt like sneaking back into the camp, stealing your own horse and running away to some place where no one knew you. But you knew you could not. You had to face the consequences of your actions.

Eventually, you took a deep breath in and decided to find Adar. You needed him close to feel safe and secure again because your anxiety was growing bigger and bigger with each given moment.

You found him near your shared tent, surrounded by the Orcs, small fires to light the path and all the war machines that made you realise how truly close you were to the battle indeed and how serious the situation was.

As you were approaching Adar from one side, you spotted Glûg walking up to him from the opposite one, with some of his friends standing behind as if they were waiting for him to speak to their Lord Father in the name of them all.

“Lord Father,” Glûg started just when you stood next to your husband and wrapped your trembling hands around his arm, happy that he was still there; that Sauron’s rage had not taken him away from you just yet. “The wall is stronger than we thought,” Glûg continued with his head slightly bowed down. “We may not breach it before morning. The Elf is faring better than you expected,” he added. “His troops have already destroyed five of our trebuchets. Many Uruk are dying,” he emphasised, his voice filled with pain and fear. “What are your orders, Lord Father? Shall we sound retreat?”

“No,” Adar’s answer was quick, nearly harsh. It caused a shiver to go down your spine as you watched with interest the conversation between him and his son. “Sauron must not escape,” Adar stated and turned around in your direction, putting his arm around your back to walk you inside the tent. “Bring down that wall. At any cost,” he added.

“Adar!” Glûg exclaimed and you exchanged a meaningful look with your husband. There was desperation but also a hint of disappointment mixed with anger in the Orc’s voice. You both froze and turned around to face him once more. “You told us… You loved us,” Glûg reminded his father in the Black Speech and your heart clenched inside your chest at his words that you could understand perfectly well now.

“With all that is left of my heart,” Adar answered with pain but also determination in his voice. Too much to let you become Sauron’s slaves.”

There was no answer from Glûg or any of the Orcs, so Adar left your side and went inside the tent. You hesitated at the sight of their faces, though. Their expressions did not mean anything good.

“Glûg, my dear, come here,” you approached him and put your arm around him as you walked together into a bit more secluded place where no one else could hear you. “Can I trust you?” You asked him and he nodded after a short hesitation, visibly moved with the fact that your hand was on his arm, protectively. “In my short time by your father’s side, you and I spent a lot of time together,” you reminded him. “And I am going to tell you something that not even Adar knows,” you took a deep breath in and moved away slightly from him.

“What is it, my Lady?” He asked, curiously.

“I know Sauron,” you confessed and his eyes widened. “I met him at the dawn of this Age when I was a young maiden,” you explained. “He is no stranger to me, and believe me when I tell you… Your father wants the best for you. There are things about Sauron that he simply cannot reveal to you but he is the most dangerous spirit living amongst us. He cannot be trusted no matter what,” you told Glûg, feeling a sudden heaviness in your heart. You were betraying your lover now but how could you not under such circumstances?

Glûg’s eyes filled with fear but also admiration towards you. You trusted him with your secret and it made him feel special.

“Your father is not entirely rational now but he is doing it all because he loves you so much,” you assured the Orc and patted his arm.

“Yes, my Lady,” Glûg nodded and bowed his head down before hurrying back to his friends.

You took a deep breath in, trying to compose yourself before you would face Adar. But when you entered the tent, he was visibly nervous and angry. You glanced at the pole, to which Lady Galadriel was supposed to be chained to but she was gone.

“What happened?” You asked.

“She escaped,” Adar stood up and showed you a small Elven key Galadriel had to use to get out of her shackles. Suddenly, you realised what Herald Elrond had done while kissing her. He had managed to distract everyone from the fact he had handed her his brooch with a hidden item inside.

“My dear,” you approached him, sensing his nervousness. You placed your hands flat on his chest and tried to soothe him. “Have you ordered already to search for her?”

“Yes, I have,” Adar nodded with a sigh. “I am now going to light the pyres for our fallen children. Are you coming with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you nodded and caressed his cheek softly. “Please, do not make decisions in a haste. Whatever happens, I shall remain by your side,” you promised and he smiled gently at you.

After that, you joined him by the funeral pyre. He lit it up with a torch while saying the phrase in the Black Speech that you had heard him say many times before whenever you had been burying any deceased Orc:

“In flames they return to darkness.”

You stood above him and kept your hand on his arm while he mourned with the Orcs. You looked down sadly, too and squeezed his shoulder as he raised his hand to join your fingers together.

Glûg was standing next to you and you could feel his curious eyes watching you closely throughout the short ceremony.

The battle was getting worse and more ferocious but you remained inside the tent now, nervously patting the surface of the wooden table with your fingers. Then, suddenly, Glûg entered the tent without even announcing himself. You turned around, surprised and raised an eyebrow at him.

“My Lady,” he bowed his head. “Forgive me but I must speak with you.”

“What is it, dear?” You furrowed your brows out of worry as you hurried to his side and put your arm around him once more to invite him inside.

“I come to you because Lord Father remains deaf to my pleas,” Glûg looked into your eyes, looking for compassion.

“What pleas, darling? He will not agree to go back home. Believe me, I’ve tried,” you cracked a sad smile.

“That I know, my Lady,” he nodded. “He has just ordered to send the troll in.”

“And why does that bother you so much?” You inquired. “Have we not brought that creature here to use him in battle?”

“He is killing our own kind!” Glûg tried to protest and you gasped when you realised what truly was the matter here.

“I understand,” you squeezed his arms. “I mourn with you, my dear, I truly do,” you nodded at him and it was not even a lie. “However, we must trust your Lord Father’s orders. In every battle there are heroes who lose their life for bigger ideas; who sacrifice themselves for others. I know how painful it is but our purpose is the most important. Sauron wishes to enslave your kind,” you tried to explain to him as if he was truly a child. “We cannot let him. And every hero amongst the Uruk that loses their life today, will forever be remembered and cherished.”

Glûg looked down, sadly, but you could feel his muscles relaxing a little under your comforting touch.

“All this pain,” he glanced up again to meet your gaze as you took your hands away from him and looked at him, confused. “Why does it hurt so much, Lady Mother?” He asked and his sincerity caused your eyes to fill with tears.

“It hurts me, too, Glûg. It hurts your father as well. It hurts because we love and care,” you explained. “However, some sacrifices must be made if we want to live peacefully in the future. I wish we did not have to but you have Sauron to thank for that and him only,” you added. “Do not forget who is the one who loves you and who is your enemy,” you reminded him and he bowed his head down before leaving your tent.

And when he left and you turned around while taking a deep breath in, you realised how he had called you a few moments ago.

Lady Mother.

You smiled to yourself. Somehow, it filled you with pride to earn this title.

When the dawn came, you could no longer stay in one place. You left the tent and went deeper into the forest to hide between the tall trees. But instead of going straight to your favourite place, you took a small detour, trying to calm down your pounding heart and your shaky breath.

And while walking around like that, you found another beautiful location – a forest clearing with a stone circle that had been built there by the Elves back in the First Age most likely. What surprised you the most about this place, though, was seeing your husband kneeling by the biggest stone in the middle of the circle. And upon that stone, Morgoth’s crown was laid.

“Are you praying, my love?” You whispered nervously as you approached him from behind. You would be very surprised if he said yes.

“How blind I was…” He only said mysteriously and moved his right hand across the stone’s surface, revealing a beautiful Ring on his finger and you gasped.

It was chiming with a beautiful song of the Elves and vibrating with pure lightness. It had to be the Ring Lady Galadriel had mentioned. Her Ring.

Adar raised himself very slowly as you kept watching him with a surprised and nervous expression. When he turned around, your jaw dropped slightly at the sight of his face being healed completely from all the scars and corruption.

He looked now like an ordinary Elf; like he had been before Morgoth. Your heart ached for him and you hurried to his side, reaching your hands out to cup his cheeks but his hands stopped your wrists as he looked into your eyes with a very sad expression.

“Loneliness caused my blindness when it came to you but this Ring made me see… It made me see everything,” he revealed and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes welled with tears instantly.

“Then it surely made you see how much I love you as well,” you breathed out. “And how much I regret everything.”

“I cannot blame you,” Adar let go of your wrists but you did not dare to make an attempt to touch his face this time as you looked down with tears and shame in your eyes. “You were forced to marry me and I know how tempting he can be even to the old and wise and you were nothing but a young maiden.”

“But now you see that my heart is even more rotten than you thought,” you mumbled out.

“On the contrary, my love. Only beautiful things can get corrupted. Your love and devotion towards him were your downfall and no heart able to love and devote itself as much can be rotten,” Adar pointed out and you looked up to meet his gaze once more.

His eyes were soft and sad but still not angry.

“What else do you see with that Ring?” You asked him, curiously.

“I see the future. How it might be if we form an alliance with the Elves. I see that these two items together,” he looked behind at Morgoth’s crown, “are enough to get rid of Sauron.”

“And do you see how much I want this, too?” You bit on your lower lip.

It felt so odd to speak to him when he looked like that. You felt like a child being lectured by an old and wise Elf like all those sages you had met in Mithlond and Eregion back in the day.

Perhaps Adar would be one of them if he had never chosen to follow Morgoth. Perhaps he would be your husband either way – you had been sent to these cities as a young maiden to study. Perhaps you would meet him there and fall in love with him. Even though the circumstances would be different, two Elven souls who loved each other would always find one another.

“I see much more,” Adar smiled softly and shyly reached out for your hand to hold it gently. You allowed him, gladly. “I see new life in the future. A possibility of it at least,” he explained as his voice trembled.

“What would that life be like, though?” Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“Pure, if that is what you are worrying about. It would be full of Valinor’s light,” he assured you and you cracked a smile.

“It is a possibility I might take under my consideration,” you told him. “One day… After you heal enough from my betrayal to forgive me.”

“I have forgiven you already, my love,” Adar said in the Quenya language as he raised his hand to brush your cheek. “I would forgive you even if you killed me for him.”

“Who would watch over your children then?” You shook your head.

“Our children. You would watch over them. Of that, I am certain, Emel,” Adar smiled.

Mother.

“Glûg called me that yesterday. He called me Lady Mother,” you told your husband, excitedly.

“I know,” he nodded, calmly. He was not surprised but visibly glad. “They have been calling you that behind your back for a while now,” he informed you and his words made you grin widely.

You made one more attempt to cup his healed cheeks and this time he allowed you to. His eyes closed themselves slightly at your touch and you felt warm tears streaming down your face because you wished he had never endured all the pain and suffering Morgoth and Sauron had put him through.

“Do not pity me, my love,” he interrupted your thoughts.

“It is scary how much you can penetrate my mind now,” you admitted with a chuckle and his eyes opened again to look at you.

“I wish it could stay this way,” Adar admitted. “I wish I could hide in yours when mine becomes unbearable.”

“Oh, Adar, my love…” You leaned in to join your lips together in a sweet and loving kiss.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You moved uncomfortably but Adar was standing still, so you relaxed once more and just went back to kissing him.

“She-Elf turned herself in,” you heard one of the Orcs as he threw a sword on the ground.

You broke the kiss and turned around. It was Lady Galadriel herself, standing there with widened eyes. She could not see Adar yet because you were standing in front of him but she was surprised enough already to witness you two kiss.

“Leave us,” you nodded at the Orcs and they walked away. They were trying to curiously look behind you and see Adar but he looked down as he hid behind you even further.

And he remained this way, as if he was shy to show his true form to Lady Galadriel. So, you took a step to the side to cover him from her even more and your hand found his to hold.

“I accept your terms, Uruks,” Galadriel announced, looking at you since she could not see your husband’s face. “I have what Sauron seeks. End this slaughter and I will do as you asked. I will help you destroy him.”

“How do you expect to destroy Sauron without your Ring?” Adar asked behind you and you slowly moved away as he revealed himself to her.

Galadriel gasped as her eyes widened with wonder.

“It would seem, even wounds that have endured an age, can sometimes yet be healed,” he said, softly.

“Adar…” Galadriel whispered, her voice filled with pain and compassion.

“When last I looked like this, I was known by another name,” he confessed and you stood by his side to wrap your hands around his arm.

“What was it?” Galadriel asked.

“A meaningless name. A name I was given,” Adar shook his head.

“The man he once was is a stranger to us, Galadriel. He should not concern us,” you told her, quoting the words he had once told you when you had asked the same thing.

“Adar is the name I earned,” he smiled softly at you before laying his eyes upon her again. He walked up to Galadriel and you followed him, still clutching to his arm. “Help me to earn it back.”

You watched your husband taking the beautifully crafted ring off and handing it back to Galadriel and your heart sank deeper into your chest when you realised his face was turning paler and greyer once more as his old scars were showing up on his skin again.

Not that you ever cared about them. It was no matter of beauty to you but it was a painful reminder of the suffering he had been through and for that reason you wished for him to be free of them.

And – despite that suffering – he had enough softness inside of him to love his children. Enough softness left deep inside of him to forgive his wife such a betrayal and to even understand her.

You couldn’t help the feeling that you did not deserve Adar but you would do anything from now on to be worthy of him.

“Take it,” he said to Galadriel. “Help me vanquish Sauron with it and I swear to you, we will recall our children to Mordor. Never to make war on Middle-earth again.”

Galadriel’s face filled with pain at his words and at the sight of his face going back to its previous state. She was full of light and compassion at that moment – just like she should always be. You felt bad for her now. For the corruption Sauron had been trying to cause within her, too.

“I have slain more of your children than any Elf alive,” she admitted with remorse and gentleness.

“I forgive you,” Adar said in the Sindarin language and you squeezed his arm tighter.

As you focused on him, you nearly missed the fact that the short silence occurring was caused by the fact Galadriel was looking at you and waiting for your answer, too.

“I am the last person you should seek forgiveness from,” you only said, mysteriously. “I have my own sins to redeem.”

After those words, Galadriel finally reached out for her Ring and took it from Adar’s hand.

“No more flames and no more darkness,” he promised her. “Let this Ring heal the rift between Elf and Uruk,” he added. “Let us create a lasting peace in Middle-earth.”

“Now and forever,” you added as you watched Galadriel put the Ring back on her finger and her face lit up with a smile.

Your small moment of blissfulness was interrupted by a few Orcs carrying Glûg on the stretchers. His face was wincing out of pain and he seemed to be hurt. Adar left your side immediately and you stood there with Galadriel while you observed.

“What happened?” Adar kneeled down to check on his son.

“We found Sauron, Lord Father,” one of the Orcs explained and you moved uncomfortably at that mention. “We refused to follow him. So, Sauron did this. He has fled from Eregion, they say.”

You exchanged a meaningful look with Lady Galadriel. It was no surprise to you that Sauron had disappeared after such a failure. After all, he was left with no army. His rage, however, had to be great now. And you were sure he would come back sooner than later to collect everything he believed belonged to him.

“We shall be ready when he comes,” Galadriel nodded at you and you nodded back but the worry about Glûg was occupying most of your thoughts now.

“Forgive me, child,” Adar whispered to him as you hurried to their side and kneeled down to take the Orc’s hand and squeeze it in yours.

“It’s too late for me…” Glûg groaned.

“No… No, no, no,” you shook your head and looked up at Galadriel. “Lady Galadriel, please. Can you try to heal him with your Ring?” You pleaded and all the Orcs looked at her as she swallowed thickly.

“I… I can try…” She hesitated and you moved away slightly to make more space for her.

“I will not let you die, my dear,” you promised Glûg as you squeezed his hand tighter. 

All the Orcs watched with widened eyes how Lady Galadriel crouched down to put her hand with the beautiful Ring upon it and place it on Glûg’s chest. She closed her eyes and focused as the Ring chimed and you could feel that Glûg’s muscles were beginning to relax.

“It’s working,” one of the Orcs mumbled, surprised.

You watched with relief because they were right and Glûg managed to sit up right after Galadriel retreated with her Ring.

“Galadriel, the Orc-Slayer,” you smiled at her. “You have begun to redeem yourself amongst our kin.”

“Thank you, Lady Mother,” she nodded at you and you nodded back.

“Tell your brothers we are going back to Mordor,” Adar stood up and informed one of the Orcs. “Stop the siege. We have a pact now with the Elves.”

“And what then, Lord Father?” The Orc asked him.

“We will prepare ourselves for when Sauron comes because he will surely come. We will be ready to welcome him in our own land, on our own terms,” Adar answered.

“Will you go with us?” You asked Galadriel and her eyes widened slightly. “We need you there… and your Ring.”

“I must go where I’m needed the most and to defeat Sauron is my only purpose,” she agreed. “However, I am not sure if I am welcome in that place.”

“You are if I say so,” you smirked at her and finally let go of Glûg’s hand when you could feel his blood flowing properly again through his veins and you were sure he would be fine. “I am the Lady of Mordor,” you reminded her.

You were on your way home on the back of your black horse with Adar on the back of his right in front of you and Lady Galadriel still standing by her white mare as Herald Elrond was saying goodbye to her and glancing at you from time to time with a huge amount of distrust.

“We do not hurt our guests in Mordor,” you assured him playfully after a while. “And she will be back with you in one piece soon.”

“Just make sure to answer our calling when we need an Elven army to help us defeat Sauron,” Galadriel took Elrond’s hands into hers and he stopped looking at you to nod at her.

Adar and you exchanged meaningful looks and soft smiles as you led your horse a bit further, so you would stand next to him.

“Are you happy to go back home?” He asked and you nodded.

“More than you can imagine,” you answered and extended your hand towards him as he reached out for you and you squeezed each other’s fingers for a brief while.

You heard Galadriel hopping onto her horse behind you and Adar nodded at the rest of the Orcs, which meant that you all could retreat back to Mordor where you would prepare for Sauron’s comeback with Morgoth’s crown Lady Galadriel with her Ring by your side.

You slowed down your horse to ride next to her now and you both exchanged soft smiles. She had no idea of your history with Sauron – Adar made sure for it to be your secret. However, you had a feeling her soul somehow knew because you could sense a thread of friendship based on a similar experience forming there between you two.

“What will happen to the men from The Southlands, Lady Mother?” She asked you.

“They will be given their homes back. Those who wish to stay in such a dark land at least and the rest are free to go. They will have to learn to share their land with the Uruk now, though,” you answered.

“And what about you? Where will you reside?”

“I was thinking of it,” you looked at her. “I wish to rebuild Ostirith,” you answered. “The fortress might not have been grand but it was my home. I wish to go back there and watch over Mordor from there with my husband like my parents once watched over The Southlands.”

“As King and Queen?” She inquired.

“No,” you shook your head. “That is not my desire. Nor my husband’s.”

Lady Galadriel seemed to be pleased with your answer and you took a deep breath in, looking at the road ahead of you as you felt at peace inside of your heart.

Peace and freedom. You were free of Sauron’s shackles. You no longer had any secrets from your husband or any guilt towards your former lover. Nothing felt better.

You were aware that the war was far from over but you were hopeful about your future and when Adar turned around to make sure you were still there, you smiled at him lovingly, still not being able to believe that he loved you so much to forgive you.

You would make sure to never make him regret that.

AUTHOR’S NOTE 2.0 — Hi, it's me again! 👋🏻 If you are curious, you can read Sauron's ending as well to see the possibility of what could have been only if our Reader made slightly different choices. If you read both endings, you will see that it was mostly small gestures of kindness and compassion that decided her fate. 💓

MASTERLIST

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Relationship Snapshot: Miphlink

(I wanted to get into the characters and how their relationship would work, so that’s this lol)

Mipha

Dedicated, compassionate, kind, nurturing, gentle, graceful, an excellent fighter and healer - these are all ways people would describe the Princess of the Zora. Ever the perfect and noble young woman, Mipha is quiet and elegant. She puts on an excellent facade for the people, as their princess, and knows to do her duty. In reality, Mipha does truly love to help others and finds joy in it, but she also desperately suppresses her own wants and desires in the name of both duty and trying to satisfy that need to help others. As she is the golden child, she also rarely—if ever—gets criticism, and therefore is not used to taking any at all. She’ll overthink any critique, stressing and resenting it. She’ll push herself beyond her breaking point for others, defining herself and her worth in her ability to help. She doesn’t have as much confidence in her own abilities as others seem to, and she resigns herself to knowing that she’s the weakest link in the chain of warriors around her. While she’ll do everything in her power to improve herself so that she can better help others, Mipha is also pessimistic in her own outcomes in life. She doesn’t really expect to be happy, doesn’t expect to survive a fight with Ganon, doesn’t expect to live a life that feels truly her own. She’s a servant of her people and that honestly seems like enough for her. She’s very shy about expressing her own needs and desires, rarely talking about what she wants. She’s emotionally overwhelmed easily, and despite pushing for intimacy with others in order to help them, she’s hardly ever intimate about herself and her own needs. Mipha will be everyone’s best friend and know all their hurts and loves but hardly anyone will know anything about her. She was far more adventurous as a child, though a worrier for others and much preferred tending to friends than seeking excitement. Still has a small spark of adventure in her, loves to explore and see new things, but spends most of her time attending to others so she just represses any desire for it. When she does finally get to be in an intimate relationship, she goes above and beyond in trying to show her love and feel loved in return initially, insecure on the matter. This can make her burn herself out or annoy whoever the other party is by overstepping. Overall, Mipha is very kindhearted and gentle, pushes herself to be the best she can be in her gifts and abilities, constantly involved in the lives of her subjects and tries to be a role model for those around her, and she wants to help everyone to the point of completely disregarding herself.

Link

As a child prodigy, Link is used to having a lot of expectations on his shoulders. He was raised to put duty first, and he takes his duty very seriously as a result, constantly pushing himself to improve and be the best knight he can be. Link has confidence in his abilities and plenty of courage, but reckless abandon are also often reasons he simply throws himself into battle with little strategy involved. He has a lot of anxiety about the pressure he’s under and desperately seeks security, even if it’s just form himself, or from praying to Hylia as often as possible. Got pushed out of the nest a little too soon due to his abilities, and tends to feel very alone and scared as a result, trying to steady himself in a chaotic world that keeps pushing him around. Very aware of how perceived he is and not sure how to handle it, but doesn’t want to mess it up. Adventurous and curious, Link will explore everything and break every bone in his body doing it and not regret it one bit. And he’ll do it without a single plan in his head. He’s not incapable of strategy, of course, but he hardly uses it. However, his strong sense of duty and recognition that the world is watching him and has expectations often keeps this wilder side of him in line. He has a kind heart under the stoic exterior, which can be confusing to those around him as he comes across as ambivalent but actually cares very deeply. Loves being around children as there is little pressure, they’re brutally honest about their opinions, and their innocence is endearing, and he loves to protect them. Finds peace in nature, and may go out to be alone to center himself, but honestly prefers the company of a few close friends/family over being alone in the wilds all the time. Quite independent, almost fiercely so - he follows orders and all that, but left to his own devices he would rather just do what he wants. He’s used to taking care of himself from a fairly young age, and while sometimes guidance in how to do things is greatly appreciated and gives him a break, sometimes he’ll balk at it and want to go his own way. With all the pressure he’s gotten throughout his life, Link places even more pressure on himself. He has to get it right every time. He has to win every time. If anything goes wrong it’s his fault, no matter what. He has to protect everyone. Between this internalized stress and his silence, Link hardly knows how to connect with others and rarely, if ever, is the first to reach out. This can definitely make him seem aloof when he truly does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it. Link is a doer far more than a talker, and will show he cares through actions, especially through cooking.

Miphlink

Mipha and Link complement each other well. Mipha’s kindness, gentleness, and nurturing nature soothe Link’s anxieties. Link’s confidence and strength and steadfastness give Mipha stability in a world where everyone else relies on her. Both love each other quietly - Mipha’s shyness is a hurdle she works to get over as their relationship develops into something romantic, and Link of course has no idea how to communicate his feelings. When they were children they were good friends, exploring together and teaching each other, whether it was Link showing Mipha how to fight or Mipha showing Link how to fish and swim. As young aduts, as they grow comfortable with each other once more after years apart and baggage and worries have piled up, they regain some of that spark for adventure, especially Link, who feels safe around Mipha, and he pushes her to be open about what she wants and needs and enjoys, forcing her out of her perfect facade and making her have fun with him.

[woodywood101blog]

Experimental: Delivery, Part 2

They were able to move Yazan into the car and urgently drive across to the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital. Anna urgently dialled one of the other research assistants to arrange a private delivery room for Yazan to pick him up from one of the private entrances. The assistant managed to secure the room by declaring it a research facility, meaning the only authorised individuals in the room were Mike, Anna, the other research assistants, plus Randy and Yazan.

On the way, Yazan groaned more aggressively as the contractions became stronger. “Ahh, I honestly don’t know how much longer I can do this!”

“Yaz, we’re almost at the hospital. Once we’re in, we’ll see how far along you are and see if we can do a c-section, okay?”

“I -”

“I know, it’s not exactly our birth plan, but these kids are going to make a lot more calls over your life in the future, okay? Better start getting used to that.”

Yazan mumbled, before moaning when another wave of contractions kicked in.

As they were checking into the hospital, Yazan was speedily put into a wheelchair and strolled into the room, pulled out of his shorts and bra and into an open hospital gown. He felt comfortable holding one of the hospital bed rails and standing upright.

“Okay, Yazan, can I take a look and see how far along you are in labour?” Mike asked.

“No.”

“Yazan, now is not the time -”

“I said no. You are not going anywhere near me.”

Mike groaned and raised his hands in frustration. “Yazan, your babies don’t have time for this! You are in a really serious situation here. We need to see what is happening so that we can work out how to help you and the babies stay alive. Now, can I take a look?”

Yazan looked towards Anna. Anna meekly smiled to try and give support to let Mike take the lead. “No, let Anna.”

Anna looked across at Mike in confusion. She’s a medical student, she shouldn’t step on her research director’s toes. “Alright, fine. Anna, step up and inspect Yazan’s anal cavity for me, please.”

Anna’s eyes bulged as she looked back towards Randy, who had just walked into the room. He sensed there were issues when Mike stepped back and was walking around the room in frustration.

Just as Anna was about to inspect, another contraction hit Yazan, which felt much stronger than before. Everyone witnessed Yazan’s belly tighten as he moaned out in pain and frustration, “Ahhh, get them out of me!!”

Anna slowly moved two of her fingers into Yazan’s ass, and could sense the contraction easing. She noticed his ass felt loose. As she moved her hand further, she quietly gasped.

“I can feel Baby A’s head. I think we should try and get Yazan to squat to help speed the delivery of Baby A. If we can do that, we could then still consider a c-section for the remaining three babies.”

“Good call, Anna.” Mike smiled. He looked towards Yazan, who looked more exhausted than ever. “Right, Yazan, we’d like to have you squat so we can get your first baby delivered. Can you do that, or do you want help?”

“I want you to fuck off out of here, that’s what I want!” Yazan screamed.

Randy stepped up from behind and rubbed Yazan’s shoulders. “Yazan, Mike is really trying to help here. Please… I know it’s not a comfortable experience at the moment, but we’re all here to make sure you and the babies are safe. Okay?”

Yazan quietly sighed. Yes, this is a pretty shit experience. Four babies hanging on for dear life, stuck behind a ‘loose’ asshole which shouldn’t even be giving birth to babies in the first place. But Mike, for better or worse, was the doctor who got him in this mess, and he was going to be the doctor to get him out of this mess.

“Fine. I’ll squat.”

“Thank you, Yazan. I really am sorry for putting you through this.” Mike quietly replied as he walked towards Yazan, held his waist and helped him squat on the floor. Yazan held a deep moan as he felt the further discomfort of the babies shifting and kicking around.

Almost immediately, a new contraction hit and Yazan felt Baby A move even closer towards delivery. Anna guided him through the breathing, while Randy wiped the sweat and rubbed his back when the contractions were stronger. Mike stepped back and let Anna take the lead.

“Okay Yazan, Baby A is crowning. I think a really strong man like you could do this in two really powerful pushes. Ready, let’s go! And push!!!”

Yazan screamed as he felt a new contraction rip through him. He gave all his might as he pushed the baby. Yazan held Randy’s hand extremely tightly, to the point where Randy was worried he might break it.

“The head is out! Well done, Yazan! We’ll just let the shoulders move around and at the next contraction, we’ll get to meet Baby A, alright? Ready, and push!!!”

Yazan screamed even louder as he felt the shoulders shift around, and almost immediately felt the body start to slide out into Anna’s hand. Yazan cried out as he heard the first baby cry. He also looked briefly down at his breasts and saw more colostrum than ever before start spilling from his nipples.

“Your baby girl is here, Yazan!” Yazan and Randy started crying as they heard the baby cry. Mike grabbed the baby and took it to a nearby crib to clean the baby. He returned and brought the baby to Yazan, who had slowly moved to an upright position.

“Hey there, little one!” Yazan whispered as he kissed the baby girl. However, the joy was short-lived as Yazan almost instantly felt a new contraction rip through his body and crouched back down to the squatting position. “Ohh, fuck!”

Anna quickly stepped up and looked at Yazan’s butt. “Hey Mike, I think we might need to put a pause on the c-section. I can see Baby B’s head.”

Yazan groaned in more pain as he realised he had no choice but to deliver all of his babies naturally at the rate he was going. These babies really are calling the shots.

With each building contraction, each of the three sons moved closer to being born. About 5 minutes following Baby A’s birth, Baby B was born. 8 minutes later, Baby C was born.

“Alright, Yazan, I can see Baby D’s head now. You’ve done such an amazing job today. We’re in the home stretch now! You’ve got two more big pushes to do and then you can relax.”

Randy was worried Yazan was slipping in and out of consciousness with the extreme pressure and pain his body was experiencing. He tried to dab some icy cold water on Yazan’s forehead to keep him alert, plus the contractions were also helping him stay alert. Yazan deeply moaned then screamed at the peaks of the contractions.

Yazan could feel another extremely painful contraction come on, and could sense this was the last one he could do at full power. As such, he screamed so loudly Randy needed to move his head back to avoid hearing damage, and pushed as much as he could.

Anna was shocked at how much power Yazan was using to push Baby D out. While the ass was loose, he could still conserve some energy. However, Yazan wanted this to be done, so he kept pushing to the extent of the contraction and birthed the baby’s head and shoulders. Anna took the hint and tried to see if she could grab the baby’s shoulders and pull him out.

“Yazan, you might feel some discomfort, but I’ll see if I can pull Baby D out for you, okay?” Yazan nodded while trying to catch his breath. Randy could see Yazan’s eyes glaze over. He might actually pass out, he thought.

Anna was able to use a set of forceps to latch onto Baby D’s shoulders and slowly pull him out of Yazan’s ass. “And, here we go! Baby D is born! Well done, Yazan!” They waited a couple of seconds before seeing Baby D squirm then cry loudly.

Yazan smiled briefly as he saw Baby D being carried away by Mike. Almost instantly, Yazan collapsed into Randy’s arms.

“Yazan? Yazan! Yazan, can you hear me?” Randy screamed desperately as Anna and Mike ran across to see what happened. The team leapt into action as they helped Randy lift Yazan onto the table, and pulled Yazan’s gown off him.

“He’s unconscious. We need to check his vitals.” Anna and Mike strapped a new heart monitor onto his finger. “Low blood pressure. Is he bleeding?”

Anna checked around Yazan’s body. “No, I can’t see any external bleeding. Has he birthed the placenta?”

“Shit, no he hasn’t. We need to get the placenta out and check for uterine rupture.”

Anna turned around and saw Randy distraught. She turned to one of the other assistants. “Hey, I think we might need to take Randy outside.”

An assistant moved across to Randy and quietly led him outside and shut the door. As soon as the door shut, Randy burst into tears and dropped to the floor. One of the midwives on the floor ran across to help him and move him towards one of their family rooms.

“Hey there, it’s going to be alright, sir. She is going to get the best care from the doctors here. Let me get you a cup of tea and somewhere to sit.”

Randy struggled to process what was happening. There are four perfectly healthy babies, but the love of his life - a man - is fighting for his life.

[danika-redgrave124]

A Witchy Shopping Day

The bustling streets of the local market were alive with the chatter of merchants, the clinking of wares, and the enticing aroma of fresh pastries. Among the throng of shoppers were Yuu and Grim, flanked by Cerezo—a fully-fledged Umbra Witch whose very presence seemed to radiate sophistication—and Vil, who naturally drew the gazes of admirers like a magnet. Behind them, trudging dutifully under the weight of numerous shopping bags, were Ace, Deuce, and Epel.

"I don’t see why we had to be the ones carrying all this," Ace griped, shifting a large bag of potions and fabrics to his other hand. "Seriously, what do witches even do with this much stuff? Open a boutique?"

"Quit whining, Ace," Epel muttered, barely breaking a sweat under the weight of an ornate vase and several spellbooks. "This is nothing compared to haulin’ apples back home. You sound like a twig about to snap."

Deuce, on the other hand, walked with practiced ease, balancing several bags on his arms. "It’s not so bad. I used to carry groceries for my mom all the time. You just need to pace yourself."

"Oh, of course you’re fine with this," Ace groaned. "But my arms feel like they’re gonna fall off!"

"Perhaps if you spent less time complaining and more time moving, you’d find it easier," Vil interjected, glancing back at the trio with his signature air of unimpressed authority. "If you drop so much as a single bag, spud, I’ll ensure you don’t see the end of my next lecture."

Ace grumbled something under his breath, but the look Vil shot him quickly silenced any further complaints.

Ahead of the group, Yuu and Grim were inspecting a collection of enchanted trinkets laid out on a merchant's stall. Grim's eyes glimmered with excitement as he pointed to a jeweled charm. "Ooh, Yuu! Look at this one! It’s all shiny! Can we get it?!"

"Grim, focus," Yuu replied with a patient sigh, holding up a shimmering black brooch in the shape of a crescent moon. "We’re supposed to be looking for practical items, not things that catch your eye."

"Well, I think this one looks very practical," Cerezo remarked smoothly, his voice rich and lilting like a dark melody. He picked up the brooch and held it to Yuu’s chest, tilting his head appraisingly. "See? It complements your aura perfectly."

Yuu flushed slightly, brushing the brooch aside. "Cerezo, we’re not here for accessories."

"Ah, but what is an Umbra Witch without their style?" Cerezo purred, a sly smile playing on his lips. "I insist you take it. Consider it a gift from me to you."

Behind them, Vil let out a soft hum of approval. "Cerezo has a point. Presentation is everything. Perhaps I should assist in curating your wardrobe, Yuu."

Yuu groaned quietly, muttering, "Not you too..."

Meanwhile, Ace, Deuce, and Epel continued their trek behind the group, with Ace nearly tripping over his own feet as they stopped at yet another stall.

"Are we seriously stopping again?" Ace complained. "At this rate, I’m gonna need a stretcher to get back to campus!"

"Shush," Epel said, adjusting the bags on his shoulders. "If you keep whining, Rook’s probably gonna pop outta nowhere and make you carry his bags, too."

As if on cue, Rook emerged from the shadows nearby, his voice a theatrical whisper. "Ah, mon brave camarades! I see you toil under the weight of duty, such noble perseverance! Truly, a sight to behold!"

Ace jumped, nearly dropping his bags. "Gah! Rook! Could you not sneak up on people like that?!"

"Ah, but I must remain vigilant," Rook replied, his tone playful but his gaze sharp as it flicked to Vil. "Where beauty walks, danger often follows. I cannot allow my Roi du Poison to come to harm."

Vil waved him off with a sigh. "Your dramatics are unnecessary, Rook. Focus on blending in rather than drawing attention."

As the shopping continued, Cerezo paused, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He turned to Yuu, lowering his voice so only they could hear. "By the way, I’ve secured something quite special from your dear headmaster."

Yuu raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What did you do?"

"Persuasion," Cerezo said with an elegant shrug. "Let’s just say Crowley and I had a... productive discussion. I took his card."

"You didn’t threaten him, did you?" Yuu asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Lightly," Cerezo replied with a wink. "Nothing he couldn’t handle."

Grim snickered. "Finally! Someone who doesn’t let that featherbrain off the hook!"

By the time they reached their final stop—a small café to rest—the three bag carriers slumped into their chairs, groaning in unison.

"I can’t feel my arms," Ace whined, rubbing his shoulders.

"You’ll survive," Vil said coolly, taking a sip of his tea.

Cerezo, ever the picture of poise, leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. "Well, this has been a most delightful outing. Don’t you agree, Yuu?"

Yuu gave him a flat look. "Delightful for you, maybe."

Grim, munching on a pastry, chimed in, "Yeah, but we got food outta it, so I’m not complaining!"

Ace groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Never. Again."

Cerezo belongs to @fungifanart

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Imagine being kidnapped by Tom Ludlow.

Hi anon. This got out of hand. I’m sorry. CW: mentions of child abuse/dark humor concerning it, rape/noncon fantasies and details. I write from a place of my own trauma, and it gets a little fucked up. If you don’t like dark fics, or are triggered easily, DO NOT READ THIS. Violence, bad cops, SA. Tom Ludlow is not the bad guy in this, though.

If you’re a big girl, a tall girl, a girl with a lot of muscle or fat, you probably haven’t been picked up off the ground since you were very young.

You question your femininity because of it, along with a whole lot of other shit that society decides to push on you for not having a traditional feminine figure…whatever the hell that is.

You often take on a more protective, mothering or masculine roll with your smaller or daintier or gentler friends. You don’t look down on them at all—or envy them too often. Some people just carry a unique tenderness that you wish the world had more of. But every little rainbow or sunbeam needs their strong protective cloud, and you mostly gladly, sometimes reluctantly take on this role.

You will never be a meek, kind, delicate person. It’s just not going to happen. You don’t want it to happen. You’re pretty comfortable with your role in life. It’s just…sometimes…and this is probably something that everyone craves in vulnerable moments…you want to be the one getting protected.

It’s just kind of exhausting, always being there for everyone else. As much as you love it, and you do, it can also really drain you.

The duality of man is that we can be more than one type of person, and want different things. You know this. But…it’s hard as hell to admit you want to be taken care of. Because doesn’t that ruin your tough facade? Your strength and independence? Doesn’t that let everyone know that you’re just putting on an act to cover up who you really are—a weak, sniveling girl?

That’s why you bottle up, keep things to yourself, regard the world cynically and humorously with a lazy shrug of your shoulder. You act like nothing gets to you, like you are a stoic guard at the queen’s gate, like a big mastiff on patrol of your sheep.

When you do wear an emotion, more often than not it’s either sarcasm or…anger. Like tonight, when some guy won’t leave your friend alone at the bar.

She’s visibly uncomfortable and attempting escape from the creep following her around. She’s too nice to tell him to go away, but you’re not, and you have had to put yourself between them way, way too many times.

“She’s not interested,” you tell him.

He sneers at you. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

Except he fucking doesn’t, because ten seconds later he’s smacking her ass when she stands up, and you’re punching him in the mouth.

He hits you back, and it feels like a slap from a two year old, but it startles your fight or flight, and before you know it, your vision is blurry with rage and your fists are flying.

The security guards have to pull you off of one another and haul you outside to where the police are waiting with cuffs.

“He was harassing my friend,” you tell the guy who’s chaperoning you.

“Her ugly ass is just jealous cuz nobody wants her!” Screams scumbag from down the sidewalk.

Wow, you’ve never heard that one before.

One of the cops grabs him by the collar and says something that appears to be stern with his finger pointed at his face.

The guy looks visibly shaken after that, and he specifically avoids looking in your direction again.

The ballsy officer, probably in some sort of supervising position by the looks of it, gets to you next, and you have to crane your neck up to look at him.

You expect anger, but his face is neutral as he pulls a pen and paper from his utility belt. “Hello, ma’am, my name is officer Ludlow with the LAPD. You mind telling me what went on here tonight?”

You tick through the list of events as best you can, trying not to paint yourself as innocent (because with the way you beat on him, you’re definitely not), but making sure he knows what a fucking reprobate you were up against, and he scribbles it all down diligently.

After you’re done, he flicks his chin at the officer standing next to you. “Reed, let her go.”

They uncuff you, and you roll your arms, testing the circulation and rubbing out the raw red marks on your wrists. “Thanks,” you tell the lead officer. “You mind if I go back in and get my friends? There’s only three of us and I’m worried about them…”

“I can’t let you go back in,” officer Ludlow says, “but give us their names and descriptions, and I’ll send Reed in for them, alright?”

You nod, comply, and a few tense moments later Abby is running out to wrap her arms around your shoulders, smearing her glittery tears and pink blush on your jacket.

You hug her back, picking her up a little bit off the ground with the ferocity of your relief, and look at officer Ludlow over her head. “Thanks,” you tell him.

Tye, arriving from the thicket of people at the entrance a few moments later, immediately wants to know what happened.

She, however, is interrupted, by the asshole down the sidewalk, still in cuffs. “Hope you think of me when you see that handprint on your cute little ass tomorrow!” He calls, and Abby turns away, choking on a sob.

You’ve always had anger issues. Usually, in adulthood, they’re pretty easy to tame down. Not in this circumstance, not when you see Abby shaking and crying, looking as defenseless as a baby mouse.

Unbeknownst to you, because your sight and sound have been marginally narrowed to one person who needs his face bludgeoned in so hard that he finally shuts the fuck up, the head officer has already signaled for them to haul this guy into the back of a police car.

You’re not sure how you cross the distance between you and him so fast—you’re built for endurance, not speed—but suddenly your fists are connecting with his flesh again, and there’s a lot of yelling and pulling and finally your feet leave the ground and your knuckles leave his face.

It takes you a minute to realize you are being carried away—that your feet are not on land—and you look up at the person whose arms are currently wrapped around you.

Like mentioned before, it’s been a long, long time since someone has picked you up and you’ve lost your center of gravity so quickly and so thoroughly. Like a startled animal, you fight to try and get back to the ground, more out of shock and adrenalized fear than anything.

You don’t mean to scratch or bite the nice officer, you really don’t.

Ludlow just sighs at your resistance, like he could be doing something much more important right now rather than manhandling you into the back of a squad car like you’re an ornery kitten rather than a formidable opponent.

You are silenced into shock the whole way to the police station.

They put you in the waiting room sans cuffs, and you’re not sure how much time passes until a heavy presence plops down on the plastic chair next to you.

“Fuck,” is the first thing you say to Ludlow. “My friends…”

“They’re safe. I’m giving them an escort back home.”

He gives you some room temp water, and after the fear wears off, grants you enough time to come back to your good senses. You look at him sheepishly, with your head tucked down. “Sorry, he was a fucking creep.”

Ludlow nods. “I get it, hopefully I can get you out of it with a slap on the wrist.” He hands you some tissues from his breast pocket. “Wipe that blood off your face.”

You didn’t realize you were bleeding, so it’s a shock to finally feel the ache of a bloody lip and bruised cheek and see the paper come back crimson streaked.

After a few long moments of silence, you say, “I feel like an asshole.”

He shrugs, leans back, grins over at you. You fight the urge to flush at his crooked smile. He’s a handsome man. Sometimes you like those. “Asshole, no. Dumb, maybe. He could have really fucked you up.”

“I handled myself just fine.”

“Your split lip will disagree tomorrow morning. Lemme see.” He holds out his hand, as if for you to rest your chin in, and you’re not sure what brain malfunction gets you to comply. You are not a good listener by any means, especially for men in positions of authority or power.

Maybe it’s sexist, maybe it’s unfair. Spend your whole childhood getting the shit taken out of you by a man that’s supposed to love and care for and protect you, and then decide what’s fair and what’s not.

He whistles low, turning you this way and that with a tenderness you don’t expect from calloused, bear paw hands with knuckles like golf balls. “I’ll give it to you, you’ve got balls. Bigger than most men I’ve met.”

Your mouth betrays your tough girl facade, and lets a tiny smile hike up the edge despite the stinging pain that follows.

Officer Ludlow gets you out with a slap on the wrist—aka a misdemeanor—just like he said he was going to. You tell him thank you about ten million times for saving your ass, and for offering to give you a ride back to the bar to get your car.

“I’ve already put you out too much tonight,” you tell him. “I’ll get a Taxi or something.”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he says, jangling the keys in his beater pocket. “By the time you get to the bar, you’re gonna be towed. C’mon.”

You open the back door of his charger, but he shakes his head and, instead, opens up his passenger seat for you to slide in.

It’s about now you’re starting to get a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach, like something is off about this interaction. You’re not one to trust easily, and getting in the car with a complete stranger, although one in uniform, is out of character to say the least.

Your radar has really been fucked up tonight. By the alcohol, the scumbag, the being arrested, the bruising and tearing of your knuckles. What a way to end it, you think, if Ludlow is a bad guy.

The funny feeling in your guts that you decide to ignore this one time? It turns out to be right. And as Tom Ludlow starts driving up through the deserted hills, in the opposite direction of the bar your car is at, you almost want to burst out laughing at how stupid you are.

Asshole, no. Dumb? Fucking definitely.

You test his door handle and he snorts at you; like he’s saying, you think I’m that stupid?

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” you grumble, sizing him up from the corner of your eye, deciding whether to fight or flight or just give up now. He’s thin, but he’s broad. Tall. Not lanky. He won’t be easy to push over. You’ll have to bite, claw eyes out, rip his hair from his head. Make sure he doesn’t pull that shiny pistol out of his belt before you can jump on him.

You could do it right here in the car and risk barreling over the steep hillside on your right. You could—

“Hey,” he says, calmly, capturing you too easily from your violent thoughts, “it’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

A part of you wants to believe him, or maybe just believe there’s still some good in the world—some good in men. Hell, maybe leprechauns exist, too. You never know.

He looks sideways at you when you giggle in response to these reassuring words, as if you’re the one who’s fucking psycho. “I’ve heard that one before.”

He makes a pensive sound, air puffing from his nostrils, switches gears as the incline increases. “Daddy beat you up?”

Well, fuck it, might as well share all your sob stories if this is really happening tonight. “Uncle, actually.”

“Sorry,” he says, and you hazard a glance over to see if his face matches his empathetic tone—it, surprisingly, does. “He still alive?”

“No.”

You must be violently shaking to compensate for the repression of a panic attack, because his still, steady hand on your shoulder pauses the tremors. “It’s okay,” he assures, like he’s trying to soothe a crying kid. You have to admit, his voice is a cool ointment for hot nerves, even if he’s the reason for them in the first place.

The brain has a funny way of dealing with things like this. There’s about a 30% chance his intentions are raping you, because with his looks he could get any lady in the city of lights for free, but rapists and molesters rarely think about physical attractiveness when it actually comes down to the act. Psychologists say it’s more about the power trip for them. And, at least, if he is going to fuck you, he’s not exactly the worst man that you could pick to do it.

At least he’s hot, is what it boils down to. Because you’re a disgusting degenerate. Because your coping skills are a ticking time bomb, a broken record, stuck back at the part of your life where you had to start liking the way uncle Eddy touched you to deal with the shame and the despair of it.

Officer Ludlow’s gonna pick you right up off the ground again, slam you into his backseat, tug your pants and underwear down in one go. He’ll make you beg him to fuck your pussy instead of your unprepared and untainted ass, use his spit as lube, rub his meaty fingers over your puffy lips and taunt you when his saliva encounters your slippery cum. He’ll smack your ass for liking this, leave big red handprints, whisper in your ear that you’re gonna remember him, not just tomorrow, but for weeks after he gets done working your cunt. That he should kill you and leave your body out for the flies, but he wants you to live just so you can feel the way he destroyed your pussy.

The charger slows to a halt out in the sticks, and you have no idea where the fuck you are or how long you’ve been driving. The night is thick black soup in a boiling pot, and his headlights cut through it meagerly. It’s enough light to see what’s happening ahead, though, and when you look over at him curiously, he is grinning at you.

The man from the bar who assaulted your friend is in cuffs, an officer on each arm holding him in place. You don’t feel bad at all when you notice his swollen lip and purple temple, but you do wish you would have gotten more hits in.

Lucky for you, Officer Ludlow has you covered.

“Do you want to hit him?” He asks, unclipping his seat belt. “Or do you wanna watch?”

You blink a few times in response, not sure what to say to this brutally kind gesture. This man who barely knows you is helping you exact revenge against his own brethren. You’ve never been so…flattered.

“Don’t tell me you’re attempting to grow a conscience?” He teases.

“I wanna hit him.”

To your disappointment, Ludlow is not a total savage. He lets you get 3 or 4—it’s hard to remember the exact number—good hits on this dirtbag, and even wraps your knuckles up in a cushiony flannel from his back seat beforehand. His only rule is, “stay away from his ugly ass face. I don’t need him coming back to the station more fucked up than it already is.”

You get him in the stomach, the ribs, kick him so hard in his dick that you feel the hard pelvic bone underneath. Maybe it’s only a couple hits, but you make them count. And when you start to ache, or get tired, all you have to do is remember the tears smearing Abbie’s pretty glitter eyeliner down her face.

If he does say anything to you, you don’t hear it. Or maybe he really doesn’t, because Ludlow stands behind you like a watchful wolfhound the entire time, and then escorts you back to his car with a heavy arm over your shaking shoulders.

“Good job,” he praises, seeming very amused and unaffected by this whole ordeal while you are trembling, soaked with sweat, panting like a hooker in a fur coat. “It’s alright, he had it coming. Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”

You do as he says, momentarily escaping your fury in favor of his calming voice and soft black eyes.

“You did amazing. Lemme see the knuckles.”

He takes your hand in his, and you notice the size difference first, and then the warm, damp, pleasant heat second.

There’s been a lot of firsts tonight: someone’s hands being larger than your own (big lady hands should’ve been your nickname in highschool), being picked up off the ground past the age of 7, a man going out of his way to do something nice for you—because your brain decides that’s how it’s going to frame this scenario whether you like it or not, as some fucked up little date on Tom Ludlow’s dime.

You feel safe with your hand tucked into his and the heat of his skin and the cozy intimacy of being belted into his vehicle. You feel grateful that good men still exist. You feel…tight, twisted up in some deprived box of longing you’ve made permanent home in.

You leave the sanctuary of your comfort zone, and have another first, as you cross his center console and kiss a man on his mouth.

For a moment where you feel like your heart is suspended on the edge of a very tall cliff, he freezes. This stiff resistance immediately makes you want to pull away, but, before you can, he wraps his hand around your chin and pulls you deep into his mouth.

Arthur from college, Monica from New Orleans…Hell, even Uncle Eddie—they have nothing on Officer Tom Ludlow with his big, slick tongue and muscular lips.

It’s so good you can almost ignore the fresh sting of your split lip.

He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, and murmurs a laugh when you give him a low groan for the effort, then takes your angry little grumble and dampens it with his renewed fervor. His hands remain gentle and chaste on your face, your neck, your shoulders, even though there is nothing gentlemanly about the way he devours your mouth. He does not push for more, does not hold you down with those big hands that absolutely could if they wanted to.

You set the pace, you pull him closer, you push him back when you need to gasp for air.

He licks the taste of you from his tilted, beautiful lips. “You have to breathe through your nose, honey.”

“Sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over yourself, pressing back against the door, away from him.

His lazy smile droops. “Are you alright?”

”I just…Can you take me to my car? If not I can—“

The thick start of his engine cuts you off.

The car ride back is silent. You think about turning on the radio a few times, but don’t want to cross more boundaries than you already have. Luckily, he flips it on for the both of you and you’ve never, ever been so happy to hear Metallica.

When he parks, cutting the engine off in the nearly deserted garage, the tension between you immediately peaks, sizzling like vinegar on baking soda. He wraps a long limb over the back of your seat, looks confused—vulnerable for such a big, scary man, and he makes your heart twang a lonely cord.

He seems almost boyish, when he asks if he can take you out sometime.

And you want to say yes. Every feral primordial part of you does, anyway. But then there’s the rational part, the one that should and does win most of the time. You’ve already snubbed that part too much tonight, so you politely decline Ludlow’s offer, and with your traitorous heart padlocked and chained back into your breast cavity, you say goodbye to the nice officer.

[generalluxun]

I'm still trying to get my head around Chat Noir's complete sidelining not just in the finale, but pretty much the entirety of the show. Based on some of the tweets I've seen, Thomas Astruc is pretty hostile to the suggestion that Chat should have more of a share of the narrative.

So... why? Why make his family, his very existence, the fulcrum on which the show turns? If you want to be the show to only be about Marinette, with Adrien as a side character and "just" a love interest, then MAKE the show only about Marinette. Don't make the main plot about Adrien, and wonder why people are confused when he's not more involved in the main plot. It's such a self-inflicted wound.

Heck, the least they could have done was give Marinette SOME personal stake in her conflict with Hawkmoth, even if it's as uncomplicated as making Marinette a paragon-type superhero like Superman or Captain American who takes her duty to the people of Paris very seriously and feels deeply about the hurt Hawkmoth's is putting them through. But most of Marinette's personal conflicts are about romance or school dynamics. The closest any of her conflicts come to her actual enmity with Hawkmoth are those that deal with the stress of being a superhero/Guardian, in which Hawkmoth doesn't really feature as a person who is her mortal enemy but as an impersonal cause for the stress she's in.

While the finale tries to summon some emotional weight to Marinette's situation, the final fight, at least on Ladybug's end, feels less like the culmination of an epic rivalry and more like a contractual obligation Marinette needs to meet as Gabriel's assigned nemesis.

I mean, the unsatisfying but true answer is twofold:

1)TA never wanted Ladybug to have a partner. That was a requirement in order to get producers lined up to hand over money. It should be understood that I am NOT trashing the producers for this. It is their money. If you want to pursue your purely artistic goal then you secure other funding or self fund. If you want to get something MADE then you have to make what people want to pay to have made. A portion of the friction here comes from the fact that I don't think TA ever stopped fighting for his original version of the show, and that version conflicts directly with the version he was paid to write for.

2)In the context of the above- Adrien is a TROPHY. Gabriel is the DRAGON, and his home life is the TOWER that the KNIGHT Marinette must rescue him from. If Adrien were a side-character he wouldn't be much of a trophy, investment wise. Is it good to make a character purely a trophy? No. It's not good when it is done ot female characters, it's not good when it's done to male ones either. (Or intersex, enby, nongendered, etc) We've moved past the kind of storytelling TA is selling in his vision of ML. It feels like something out of the early 00's, which when you consider where he started his work, makes a lot of sense.

Should they have connected Marinette to Gabriel more? Absolutely! They both do fashion! SHE could have had an internship right along with Lila. Can you imagine the rivalry there? Can you imagine the conflicts with Gabriel?

At the VERY least they should have let Marinette actually track down abriel. Let her put all her planning and analysis to good use! Instead they just had Felix do it all and then some blind luck at the end. That's LAME, that's cheating Marinette out of a well deserved culmination story beat.

Punching has never been what Ladybug was about, so a final fight could never be a satisfying climax no matter how 'epic' it was.

[changbinsboobs]

who in skz would mtl marry someone due to getting them pregnant by acting recklessly or on implusive behaviours without using protection or if they were drunk per se?

Skz MTL to marry someone cuz of accidental pregnancy

So as with most men when faced with a difficult question or decision they evaded the question and situation and put the burden of that on the woman💀 im not very satisfied with the kind of "answers" i got but im gonna do my best. Just gonna say that they have no idea how they would go about it and they would feel terrible - like overall thats the predominant energy. But imma go into details now.

Chan

He really, really doesn't want to. And im either getting the vibe that he would like the kid to be aborted (if the moms also on board), cuz he won't be there to provide any support and he doesn't want the responsibility of it. Or on the other hand im getting an energy where he's gonna just suck it up and bear the consequences of his reckless actions, no matter the price. Idk which ones the more prevelent one tho, so may be his inner wish vs what he actually does.

Lee Know

Would think lots and lots abot the whole situation including if he wants to keep the baby or not. Either way, if the mom decides to keep it he'll provide financial security for sure! Im not really seeing anything about being a father or marriage - but he wants to act correctly in the matter as much as possible so im not really sure here either im not getting any answers on the marriage thing but im definitely getting confirmation on him being at least financially supportive whit whatever the woman and the child may need and im actually getting a friendship relationship at least. So even if they don't get married he will be a present figure every once in a while in his child's life.

Changbin

He would be ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATED!!!!! But he will marry here. I was actually a bit unsure while drawing the cards but now that im immersing myself in this energy i think in his head there's no other way about this. How can he fail his duties as a man and impregnate a woman he had no intentions on marrying or impregnating and then leaving her on her own?! With HIS child?!?! Tarnishing her honor?!?!!? Being an embarrassment and failure to his family? Bringing shame upon them?!?!! He could NEVER do that. And thats why he's so devastated because he feels like such a failure for being so reckless and doing such a fatal, life changing mistake. And the worst of all - he wants to marry for love. But probably he wouldn't. Because if he loves the woman he's sleeping with, this child wouldn't be accidental in the way that its unwanted. No matter what he would embrace it with all his being. But if the pregnancy causes anxiety in him, then its not the woman for him, and now he's forced to marry a woman he doesn't love, while the love of his life is somewhere out there looking for him, waiting. And he feels like he's disappointing her even too, because he can't go out and find her, as he has to stay home with his wife and raise a child that was unwanted, that's not HIS (destined) child.

(I swear that guys into some spiritual shit) (Also i feel like exagerates the hefthiness of the situation i think, but thats another thing i notice in a lot of men where they just make such a big deal of things and make it all so complicated ugh...drama queens)

Hyunjin

My guy would welcome it with open arms. Not seeing specifically marriage, but i think he would be pretty excited about being a dad and i can see him being easily persuaded into marriage for the greater good of the child. Arrangements can be made along the way. The energy's very easy-going and uncomplicated which actually surprises me a bit but out of all i think he has the best energy about this.

Han

Short and sweet: he doesn't have to worry about that (que a smug smile)

(Do with that what you want)

Felix

I don't think he would marry. He wants his autonomy, his freedom. He will provide support tho, and he's ready to work something out that works for both (all) parties. Im seeing him also being fully ready to be a father figure if needed, being of constant help in many different ways. But i don't think he'll tie himself down like that.

Seungmin

No

I.N

This one's the most difficult to read i dont even know what i should right on here cuz its all so muffled. For your information he has The Moon card and the energy here's so gloomy and sticky and damp and muffled. I think if he gets faced with the news he would go into a minor depression for a while, all kinds of voiced ing at him, not being able to find the right path, i think he would be a mess and not know ANYTHING. He wont know how he feels about the baby, if he wants to keep it or not, if he likes the girl, if he wants to marry, if he wants to marry HER, about his parents, about her parents, he will just have one big hole in his mind but at the same time thousand of different voices and thoughts all around him suffocating him so in short - i think he'll be in a state where he's completely incapable of doing whatever it was and more or less leave the girl be completely on her own, which lead me to believe that eventually he'll abandon her and not marry her cuz the energy gives me similar vibes. Being in a frozen state not giving a definitive no but not a yes either, not giving anything - equals abandonment in my opinion. If you're not gonna be there mentally anyways then whats the use?

As in lots of my readings i feel like the maknea line wasn't very vocal and didn't have much to say about this but the older once had plenty to say apparently😂 maybe thats a genuine fear they've had flow in their head every once in a while😂

Most

1.Hyunjin / Changbin

2.Lee Know

3.Chan

4.Felix

5.I.N

6.Seungmin

Least

Hans outside of the table cuz my guy doesn't habe to worry about that apparently🙌🏻

[deafeningfanlight23]

SOLAR AND RUIN HEADCANONS THAT ARE LONGER THAN THE BIBLE! :D

IMPORTANT: I CALL RUIN/JIGSAW DOLUS BTW SO DON'T BE CONFUSED- QWQ

Solar:

(I SWEAR IT LOOKS BETTER IN REAL LIFE TRUST ME THE QUALITY OF MY HANDY IS JUST STRAIGHT FROM THE 99 CENT STORE- 😭🙏)

Solar is Romanian (WHERE MY ROMANIAN PEOPLE AT? >:D And don't question the logic of my headcanons MY HEADCANONS, MY RULES >:D). Solar can speak fluently German, Romanian of course, and a bit of French and Portuguese.

Solar is gender-apathetic and could care LESS about gender and pronouns. Solar still dresses more masculine though because he simply likes it.

He's gay and somewhere on the ace-spectrum :D (HE'S OUR ICON I TELL U 💅)

Solar has chronic migraines and backpain and they just get worsened by his AWFUL posture habits. He always takes medications for those, otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to function properly in life. Sometimes, however, he overuses them and goes overboard. Sometimes TOO much overboard. (I SWEAR TO Y'ALL IF YOU QUESTION THE LOGIC OF THE MEDICATION THINGY I'M GONNA MAKE YOU EXPLODE LIKE LUNAR 😃)

His rays aren’t usable anymore. They are fully broken, and two tips of the seven couldn’t be patched up, while the two others were able to be a bit restored by fixing the ends through another, mismatched metal. HIS Moon used to always grab and tug at them as punishment, and unconsciously, he sometimes repeats those actions inflicted upon him by lightly pulling at them when he is stressed or dissociating. He doesn’t allow anyone to touch his rays. NO ONE. (... OUR TRAUMATIZED QUEEN 💃✨ BUT LIKE HE GOING THRU IT FR 😭🙏)

He is an insomniac and a workaholic with a non-existent sleep schedule. He’s got no free time to rewind and relax and doesn’t ALLOW himself to do so, only fueled by coffee and medication.

However, he finds comfort in Dolus (AKA RUIN) and whenever he spends all of his time to hang out with him. He loves those musical numbers Dolus always persuades him into, and although he looks like he is annoyed at first, it’s a big joy for him.

Apropos Dolus, Dolus gifted him a shark keychain which is now securely hanging from Solar’s belt every day. (See picture above :D) Solar uses this as a stress toy because its soft, squishy texture and wool underneath makes it perfect for it.

He often vapes when no one's looking. That's why his voice is so raspy (and from the screaming)

Dolus (aka Ruin/Jigsaw):

DOLUS IS BRITISH, MATE, NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE, MIC DROP 👏 He can only speak English in a British accent and the most broken French known to mankind.

He is genderfluid and sometimes feels like a man and sometimes just non-binary :D His preferred pronouns are he/they.

He is Achillean and somewhere on the ace-spectrum too!

Dolus has a passion for musicals and the theatre. He knows every song of the Hamilton Musical in and out and has watched “The Greatest Showman” over a dozen of times and loves EVERY song of it. Every day, one can catch him humming a song from his favorite musical and dancing a bit to them. In addition, he LOVES to perform those musicals, and he involves Solar in them. Basically: He is a theater kid.

He also has a REALLY big obsession with sharks and even has a full-body shark suit for sleeping and a few shark plushies, which is why he loves the nickname “Sharky” so much.

A big scar is stretched across his face and covers up his right eye, coming from a fire incident where he was trapped underneath ashes, flames and wood. His right eye is still usable, but not as strong as his left in terms of eyesight.

He also has weak joints and can’t endure any sort of pressure for a long time, which is why he has to take sitting and laying breaks and has to do some physical exercises. It's annoying and prevents him from doing some things, but this won't stop him doing things he LOVES. He can’t run properly because of this, walk for a long time and stand more than necessary. Solar sometimes helps Dolus sit when Dolus needs a sitting break or helps him walk when there's no other option. Dolus feels bad about that.

He doesn’t like travel and moving vehicles, as well as bright lights.

THANKS FOR LISTENING, TUNG (=Bye)! :D

[cosmicjoke]

You know what really gets me about people who claim that Levi "sacrificed humanity" for Erwin sake? It's that, even if Erwin was Levi's main consideration in the choice he made, he still only felt able and willing to make that choice because he believed humanity would be alright in Armin's hands.

That's why he says later on that he "entrusted the future to that kid with the same look in his eyes as all of you.". That's Levi stating that he felt alright letting Erwin die because he believed humanity's future could be trusted with Armin.

Therefore, Levi didn't "sacrifice" humanity for Erwin. He only felt it was alright to let Erwin rest in the first place because he trusted in Armin to carry humanity forward, i.e. he truly believed humanity would have a future with Armin at the helm. That's an objective fact.

To claim Armin played no major role in Levi's choice, then, is wrong, and also disingenuous, because Levi never would have made the choice he did if he didn't fully trust in Armin to be the leader humanity needed. These people that claim otherwise know this, and yet they deny it again and again.

So again, even if it were true that Erwin was Levi's main consideration in his choice, it was still only a choice he could and would make if he felt confident it wouldn't "doom" humanity. And further to this point, it's clear Levi didn't ever think losing Erwin would doom humanity anyway, since even before this moment, he was twice willing to let Erwin die to secure Eren. Of course he felt losing Erwin would be a blow to humanity, but he never believed Erwin was absolutely essential to humanity achieving victory.

For example, nobody ever talks about Levi "dooming" humanity for Erwin when he prioritizes Eren over him during the Uprising arc, or when he orders Erwin to give up on his dream and die for all of them during the RtS arc. So why is it suddenly different when he chooses to let Erwin die and gives Armin the serum instead? How is Levi "dooming" humanity here, but wasn't also "dooming" humanity those two times before?

It's because these shippers can't claim a romantic angle with those other two instances. It isn't "romantic" if Levi lets Erwin die because he considers Eren more vital to achieving their cause, but it's "romantic" if Levi lets Erwin die because he cares more about him than humanity. So that's how they frame it, positing this idea that Levi believed humanity would be doomed without Erwin's leadership, but he just loved Erwin so much, that he was willing to let humanity perish to end Erwin's suffering. This is why these people routinely deny that Armin played any, significant role in Levi's choice, because by acknowledging that fact, (and it is a fact, because, again, not only do the sequence of panels show how Levi was thinking of Armin in the moment he made his choice, and weighing the purity of Armin's dream, the way he spoke of it with hope and joy, against the way Erwin spoke of his own, riddled by guilt and despair and threatening to tear him apart, but we later see Levi verbally acknowledge that Armin specifically factored into his choice) it ruins their ability to imagine Levi gave humanity up out of his love for Erwin.

There's an inherent contradiction in that claim, though. Because, again, if Levi truly believed humanity would be doomed without Erwin, he never would have prioritized Eren over him, or been okay with letting Erwin charge to his death against the Beast Titan.

And so, logic dictates, the reason Levi let Erwin die is because he genuinely believed humanity could still win without him, and by his own admission, he felt secure in letting Erwin die in that moment because he saw something in Armin the night before that led him to believe he could entrust him with the future. In other words, his belief in Armin and his abilities is what made Levi feel okay in letting Erwin go. Ergo, Armin mattered just as much as Erwin in Levi making the choice he did, even if, specifically, the choice was made for Erwin.

Acknowledging Armin's role in Levi's choice also requires one to acknowledge that humanity's future was as much a factor for Levi as Erwin himself in that choice. He was thinking just as much about whether humanity would be okay without Erwin, and he came to the conclusion that it would be. Because of Armin. Because Levi believed in Armin's abilities.

So it was never about Levi "choosing" Erwin over humanity, because Levi never would have let Erwin die if he truly believed it would doom humanity to do so. He never would have made the choice he did if he didn't trust in Armin to be up to the task of taking over Erwin's role. Again, it's why Levi says he has no regrets about not choosing Erwin, because he believed that much in Armin. And he was right to, in the end, because it was Armin that played a vital role in saving humanity.

[dropthedemiurge]

Hi again!

I'm just here to spread a fun fact:

the break up in LFLS is so much sadder in the novel -

A few hours/days before (When grandma's in the hospital and the mission for choosing between Yeowoon and Grandma appear) Myungha and Yeowoon go peach picking -

Myungha starts his convo where he talks about not knowing HOW to love someone, Yeowoon interprets this as a break up and tells Myungha to stop talking - and Myungha manages to explain himself as Yeowoon sheds a few tears -

Myungha says he will never break up with Yeowoon, (then they almost get caught by security and flee)

After he makes his choice (saving both), his time ticks down to 36 days. He feels dizzy, and Yeowoon catches him. Yeowoon helps him, taking him inside his house and laying him down in a blanket.

After a small while - when the dizziness subsides - Yeowoon feeds Myungha some porridge and asks him what that was all about, but Myungha says nothing.

Myungha begs Yeowoon not to hate him.

Then, seeing his days so low, Myungha knows he has to break up with him that night.

Myungha takes Yeowoon in the train to were he used to live at 29 - they roam the streets, talk about life, eat special food (something that Yeowoon's Grandma used to make Yeowoon eat on rainy days), and sit by the river at night.

Yeowoon is SO excited because he thinks Myungha is finally opening up to him the way he's always wanted — he doesn't even consider this the start of a breakup.

THEY EVEN EAT ICE CREAM BY THE RIVER -

its one of those icecreams with two lolly sticks - they break the icecream in two. Myungha gets the smaller piece, but Yeowoon gives him his bigger peice.

Myungha tries so hard to tell Yeowoon the truth about this being a game, about his missions, and everything else — but he physically cannot because the game-world won't let him.

he then HAS to break up,

at first Yeowoon doesnt believe it, but then he gets angry and kisses Myungha to stop him.

Myungha pushes him away rather harsh, telling him to stop - Yeowoon starts crying, he then gets on his knees with tears, literally begging, saying he'd do anything to get back together - he'll fix himself to what Myungha wants.

Yeowoon grabs on so tight to Myungha's hand, holding it against his cheek with tears dribbling down.

Yeowoon says he loves Myungha and constantly apologises for how he's acting, now and in the past, promising to do better, he just wants to be with Myungha.

Myungha pulls his arm away - it starts to rain again,

his days increase from 36 days to 100 days

===========================================

I find this version so much sadder (and better tbh) because Yeowoon is so excited the whole time, he's giggling and blushing. honestly just soo happy that Myungha was sharing a part of him - this was something Yeowoon had been asking for time and time again.

But the whole thing has sad undertone as Myungha reitteres in his inner dialogue how this would be their last date, their last meal ect.

And unlike the Kdrama where Yeowoon could maybe guess, in this version, it was totally outta nowhere for him,

the way Yeowoon's cute smile drops in the novel in disbelief is the most gut wrenching thing ever.

also the line where Yeowoon says "I know you don't like me the way I do" makes a lot more sense in the context of the novel, where its clear that Myungha is clearly holding himself back from fully investing in the relationship and is honestly more distracted and tense. (he doesnt say how he feels, he doesn't want to kiss Yeowoon, ect)

i wish the drama was longer to add these moments :(

===========================================

Once more, sorry for spamming again and thanks for reading :D

i just needed to share

Stay Safe <3

You are so right IT IS VERY SAD :((

I think the English translation on novel website actually had some of these break up chapters? I definitely remember the illegal peach picking and the underlying sadness ugh Т__Т

And I also wish Kdrama was a bit longer so we could sit with them and make breakup more smooth and logical... but also I still think they worked the novel into it very well. Like, there's that short scene that's absolutely gut-wrenching for me - when they are on a rooftop and Yeowoon is excited, saying 'let's go pick chestnuts in autumn!' and Myungha pauses - what a heavy pause - and only says 'don't forget to take care of yourself' because of immediate doom of the Game. It's different plot-wise but the similar dreadful feeling is there.Т___Т

But also yes, the LFLS novel has so many sad and sweet extra scenes! I wish all of them were adapted in Kdrama version! (and the extension from 36 days to 100 days would make sense, I found Kdrama game mechanics a bit wobbly at the end with that breakup/time with Myungha return/different timeline etc, but probably yes, novel gives it more sense and they had to change it to align with their script)

Thank you for sharing delicious parts from the novel :D I'll share the spinoff in Korean with you as soon as I save the copy!

[formleadsfunction]

remember when I used to write SAYER fic? remember when i posted very vanilla platonic bdsm hale/nanites!sayer? that was pretty cool, i realized, while re-reading and slightly editing it!

reposting this thing i titled "map reading" mainly for @kamil-a bc they keep getting me re-invested in this podcast, mwah.

takes place post canon ig, nobody can tell me otherwise bc adam will never finish and thus joss it <3 cw for (not graphically described, more implied) self harm; mentions of canonical injuries

---

"Hold still," you tell him, and he does. He always does exactly what he is told to do. This should, of course, not surprise you. This was, of course, the first thing you truly appreciated about him. No buts, no trying to argue with you like so many others.

You put the collar on him, close the strap at the back of his neck, and he shifts a little on his knees. Blinks at you. You look back without blinking.

Sometimes you are tempted to put the blindfold on him first. You doubt he would argue.

(He always does exactly what he is told to do. He carved a part of himself off because an incorporeal voice told him to. Sometimes you get angry when you think about it. (An emotion that you are aware is linked purely to FUTURE's existence, not the act itself, because whenever it does not make you angry, you are vaguely fascinated by it. By his obedience.))

So, you are certain he wouldn't argue. And in a way, you would prefer it if the blindfold came first. There are things about this that you are not particularly fond of. His eyes on you are one of them. As long as he is able to see, he never takes them off you, not for a second. He stares, and his pupils are wide, and there is something like admiration in them, if you don't entirely misplace the expression. It feels wrong. Mainly because he isn't actually staring at you, he's just staring at... a form, loosely linked to your existence; one you control but don't feel connected to. For a moment, you trail a finger over the leather of the collar, just to see him close his eyes. (That is another thing you do not overly like; you fail to see what exactly it is about the sensation of leather against his naked skin that he enjoys so much. But this is not about you, and you could stop at any time, anyway—he would hardly be able to protest, nor would he want to. Just as he could make you stop with a simple gesture, so could you just drop the act. You don't want to, is the thing.)

"Lift your hands," you tell him, and he does, opening his eyes again as soon as you take your hand off the collar. The cuffs, then; leather again, padded, of course—you do not want to hurt him. If this was what you wanted,

(and he would let you; you think about this often)

you could have just organized an ordinary pair of handcuffs. Uneven metal edges that would bite into his wrists, rubbing them open and tearing them bloody, the way he tends to tug at them. You don't want to, is the thing.

Sometimes, you secure his hands to the headboard, and he likes that; likes the way it limits his range of movement. But today you need his arms within easy reach.

He tugs against the cuffs, just slightly. Enough, you suspect, to make him fully aware that he wouldn't be able to get his wrists free even if he wanted.

Blinks at you again. Slowly, like a cat conveying trustacceptancerespect. (So fond of you, for some reason.) This time, you blink back, and he gives a tiny, automatic smile in response. You don't return the gesture and reach for the blindfold instead. Finally, this.

You watch him closely as soon as you have put it on him. It is easier like this, knowing he is unable to stare straight back. You watch his shoulders in particular, first. The way the tension so visible leaves them as soon as everything is darkness. His breathing immediately calms, evens out. You take the time to look at the rest of him, then. The scars, all the marks his time working for Ærolith has left on this physical form that isn't his original physical form but is his, still, much more than yours will ever be yours.

You stand and move a step away from the edge of the bed. You grab the leash attached to the ring at the front of the collar, wrap it around your hand loosely and give it a small tug. (You don't like that much, either, the metal against your hand, the sound in your ears, but oh, he does; he hears the small chain links clink-clink-clink together, he feels the pull, this input, a moment of pressure, the leather collar pressed more firmly against the back of his neck, and he shivers, just a little, and he follows your lead, because of course, of course he does. He straightens himself. His back makes a concerning sound, and you frown and file this away for later consideration.

(You miss having constant access to his biometric data.)

"Get up," you tell him, and he does. He's sitting on the bed just a few moments later, and you are in front of him, very, very close.

One of your hands is still holding the leash, and you move your fingers every now and then, just to let him hear the sound he so enjoys. You lift the other slowly and start with his forehead. You brush his hair away and trail your fingertips over the two faint scars that are visible like this. Testimonies to the excellent aim of Halcyon's security team. He doesn't move, he stays perfectly still and keeps breathing slowly.

Good.

Farther down, then. The neat scar on his chest, remnants of the surgery the medical team conducted to rid him of the plant matter and the insects that had remained inside of him. The much messier scar telling the story of the mutant plants in the break room.

You trail your fingers over them as if you were reading something. How appropriate—his entire body is a map.

Lower, lower—and here you hesitate. Your hand hovers over the jagged outlines of the first injury he's inflicted on himself, guided by the firm voice of something—someone—he thought was you. Slowly, you touch your fingertips against the marks the instrument FUTURE had provided him with have left on him. You study his face closely as you do. He remains calm, outwardly at least.

"...Alright?" you ask.

(It had not been alright during one of the first times you'd done this, and he had stubbornly refused to use the gesture to let you know, and you had ended up having to talk him out of a panic attack, and all of it had just been extremely inconvenient and slightly annoying. (You had been worried, too, but you don't like to think about this emotion linked to his existence much.))

But he nods, and his breathing doesn't change rhythm, and you resist the urge to place your fingers against the inside of his wrist to check his pulse, and decide to trust him. Your touch remains feather-light as you follow the outlines of that particular scar.

Eventually, you pull it back—you ignore the others, the ones that joined the already impressive collection at some point during his little adventure on Floor 13 while FUTURE had been inside him. You don't like those. You tend to not acknowledge them, most of the time.

Instead, you tell him: "Stretch out your arms."

And a second passes, two, before he does.

There are scars here, as well, spread across both of his lower arms seemingly randomly. No pattern to follow, no one story to tie them all up in. You let your fingers trail over some of them.

He freezes. Flinches a little, as you touch the fresh bandages. You pull your hand back immediately, and wait. Let the metal links of the leash slide through your fingers, clink-clink-clink, and he shivers just like before, and takes a deep breath, nods. Slowly relaxes, until you decide it's fine to reach out and touch him again.

It's not easy, taking the bandages off with only one hand, but you don't want to let go off the leash, not when the casual sound seems so comforting to him, and you manage. You don't touch these cuts, of course. Just examine them. Make sure they look alright. (They do. You always make sure that injuries are taken proper care of, whether he likes it or not.)

He gives a soft sigh when you pull your hand away from his arm, relieved, and you hadn't noticed the slight tension that had snuck back into his shoulders—only realize now that it leaves them again. It bothers you—you really miss having constant access to his biometric data.

"You are doing very well," you say, voice quiet and deliberately sincere, and perhaps he thinks you won't notice the way he bites his lower lip for a moment. Perhaps he hopes you do. Perhaps he doesn't mind either way.

(You do notice, of course you do. You tend to refrain from praising him precisely because you know how well he reacts to it, and because you are still unable to place this reaction entirely. You are not sure whether your praise shifts the whole thing into parameters you... have never actually discussed. This is a practical thing, first and foremost, and you would very much like to keep it that way. (But he is, of course. He is doing very well.))

You tear your eyes away from the cuts on his arm and let them wander up his body again, paying attention to all of the scars once more as if you weren't able to name their exact placement even without looking.

You stop at his face. He looks... peaceful.

(He has freckles. You notice every time.)

((You have ignored them, until now. They are not part of the particular map you are reading during this.))

(((Only that they are, of course, like a map, too. Bursts of them on his nose, a few stray on his left cheek, far more on his right. Like a star map, you think. Like an entire solar system painted onto his face.)))

You lift your free hand and place it against his cheek. If you wanted, you could use your fingers to find and draw constellations, you could, in theory, spend half an hour coming up with names for them. He would let you.

You won't.

He looks surprised for a moment, even with the blindfold on. Body tense, but not in a way that worries you or makes you think that it's too much.

A second passes, another one, and then he turns his head to press his cheek into your palm. You, too, hesitate. Stay like this, frozen for a moment, before you slowly move your thumb to brush it over his lips.

You don't know why you thought of doing it, or what exactly you had expected in return. (You didn't think much at all, is the only logical explanation.) You can hardly blame him for what must seem like the natural reaction—the pressure of his lips as he kisses your finger—but you immediately pull your hand away as if the simple gesture had burned you, anyway.

That was on you, really.

Too affectionate. That's not what you are doing here. That's not what this is for. This is calming. Grounding. Keeps him from doing dangerous, stupidly human things with sharp objects. Most of the time, anyway.

(Part of you wants to leave, just for a moment, just until the thought that he made the conscious decision to kiss you, part of you, feels less overwhelming, but that would, of course, be incredibly bad etiquette. (A yet smaller part of you is tempted to do it regardless. (You don't, naturally. You like clear rules, and you like sticking to them.)))

Instead you sit back and let go of the leash, clink-clink-clink. "I will keep you like this for another few minutes," you tell him, and he nods.

Both of you stay like this, then, quiet. Breathing. Both of you breathing. He's still very, very calm.

Good.

You let a little more than six minutes pass, until he starts shifting slightly, not uncomfortable, you think, so much as made restless by all the silence and the waiting, and then you reach for the blindfold.

"Alright?" you ask again, and he nods and exhales slowly as you pull it off. The cuffs follow, and then the collar.

This part—

"Let me look at your wrists." You grab them both, gently, rub your thumbs over them. The cuffs haven't even left any marks—you knew they must be alright, but

—well. It's less that you dislike this part. You're just not… all that good at it. It feels more like playing a role than the entire rest of it, and you are not exactly… well, you're not someone for cuddling. The thought is, in fact, absurd. You think you would be extremely uncomfortable with the concept.

(You can't be sure, though. Not without trying it. That wouldn't be very scientific; never testing this assumption. But you're not eager to test it.)

You do what you can without feeling clumsy, instead.

You have water for him, hand it to him, make sure he drinks. He does, and he lets you wrap the cuts on his arm, and neither of you speaks, because he seldom does, and because you wouldn't know what to say.

You ask him if he needs anything else, and he shakes his head. Lying on his back, covers pulled up to his chin. He blinks at you. Slowly—content and tired and like a cat and so fond of you, for some reason.

"...But can you—stay? Here? Until, just until I'm asleep?"

You slowly blink back,

(you didn't expect him to speak at all, today)

and nod. "Certainly, yes."

He gives a tiny, automatic smile in response before he closes his eyes, and you sit next to him, and you stay.

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (X – SAURON)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST ALTERNATIVE ENDING (ADAR)

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You already made your decision to remain by Adar's side but your former lover has different plans.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — First of all, thank you so much for your comments under every part and your support because this fic (and this fandom) was what brought back my joy for writing! 😊 I am aware most of you wants to see The Reader from this fic with Adar but I still wanted to let you make a choice and I had an idea for this storyline either way, so... 🤷🏻‍♀️ The very cold line Some are born for sacrifice is taken from another fantasy TV show – The Shannara Chronicles. 😅 I loved while watching the show and I remembered about it while writing this story. I think it suits. 🤐 This part is more canon-like than the alternative ending where The Reader chooses Adar tbh.

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship, YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS 💀

WORD COUNT — 4,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (X – SAURON)

You spent the rest of the day and half of the night inside the forest, in your new favourite place, feeling uneasy. Alone, just in case Sauron wanted to reach out to you again. But he was not making such attempts and it was making you anxious more than ever. His wrath was something you did not want to experience yourself and you knew very well that you had earned it.

Nervously fidgeting with the wedding band around your finger, you were sitting there by the fallen tree and listening to the sounds of the battle taking place nearby. Once more, you felt like sneaking back into the camp, stealing your own horse and running away to some place where no one knew you. But you knew you could not. You had to face the consequences of your actions.

Eventually, you took a deep breath in and decided to find Adar. You needed him close to feel safe and secure again because your anxiety was growing bigger and bigger with each given moment.

You found him near your shared tent, surrounded by the Orcs, small fires to light the path and all the war machines that made you realise how truly close you were to the battle indeed and how serious the situation was.

As you were approaching Adar from one side, you spotted Glûg walking up to him from the opposite one, with some of his friends standing behind as if they were waiting for him to speak to their Lord Father in the name of them all.

“Lord Father,” Glûg started just when you stood next to your husband and wrapped your trembling hands around his arm, happy that he was still there; that Sauron’s rage had not taken him away from you just yet. “The wall is stronger than we thought,” Glûg continued with his head slightly bowed down. “We may not breach it before morning. The Elf is faring better than you expected,” he added. “His troops have already destroyed five of our trebuchets. Many Uruk are dying,” he emphasised, his voice filled with pain and fear. “What are your orders, Lord Father? Shall we sound retreat?”

“No,” Adar’s answer was quick, nearly harsh. It caused a shiver to go down your spine as you watched with interest the conversation between him and his son. “Sauron must not escape,” Adar stated and turned around in your direction, putting his arm around your back to walk you inside the tent. “Bring down that wall. At any cost,” he added.

“Adar!” Glûg exclaimed and you exchanged a meaningful look with your husband. There was desperation but also a hint of disappointment mixed with anger in the Orc’s voice. You both froze and turned around to face him once more. “You told us… You loved us,” Glûg reminded his father in the Black Speech and your heart clenched inside your chest at his words that you could understand perfectly well now.

“With all that is left of my heart,” Adar answered with pain but also determination in his voice. Too much to let you become Sauron’s slaves.”

There was no answer from Glûg or any of the Orcs, so Adar left your side and went inside the tent. You hesitated at the sight of their faces, though. Their expressions did not mean anything good but you had no idea how you could fix it.

Either way, it was an argument between the Orcs and their Lord Father. You were not a side in this conflict. Therefore, you turned around and followed your husband inside the tent.

When you looked around, you spotted that he was angry and crouching down next to a few dead bodies of the Orcs. Lady Galadriel was not around.

“She’s still in the camp. Find her!” He barked at a few Orcs coming inside after you and they nodded before running out.

“What happened?” You asked.

“She escaped,” Adar stood up and showed you a small Elven key Galadriel had to use to get out of her shackles. Suddenly, you realised what Herald Elrond had done while kissing her. He had managed to distract everyone from the fact he had handed her his brooch with a hidden item inside.

“Smart,” you admitted and tilted your head but Adar was not impressed.

“You were supposed to watch over her,” he reminded you, harshly.

“Me?” You were surprised at his words. “I know that you are nervous because the battle is not going the way you planned and I agree with Glûg that we should retreat and go back home but that is no reason for you to take it out on me,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth.

Adar did not say anything to that as he gave you a scolding look and left the tent in a hurry, leaving you speechless. However, not even a minute passed and he was back.

“Forgive me,” he said and extended his hand towards yours. “I might die today and I do not want to leave this world knowing that the very last thing we did was to argue,” he admitted and you sighed, approaching him.

You ignored his extended hand because you threw your arms around his neck instead and you hugged him tight before taking a small step back and cupping his face in your hands.

“Do not say such things, please,” you pleaded and cracked a nervous smile before joining your lips together to kiss him softly before you eventually let him go to join his children.

The battle was getting worse and more ferocious but you remained inside your tent, nervously patting the surface of the wooden table with your fingers. Then, suddenly, angry Glûg entered the tent without even announcing himself. You turned around, surprised and raised an eyebrow at him.

“My Lady,” he bowed his head very slightly, nearly lazily, which was quite uncommon for him.

“What is it, dear?” You tried to be more lighthearted.

“I come to you because Adar remains deaf to my pleas,” Glûg sighed, still standing near the entrance of the tent as if he was scared of approaching you.

“What pleas, Glûg? He will not agree to go back home. Believe me, I’ve tried,” you rolled your eyes slightly and Glûg squinted his small eyes at you.

“That I know, my Lady,” he nodded. “He has just ordered to send the troll in.”

“And what about it?” You inquired. “Have we not brought that filthy creature here to use him in battle?”

“He is killing our own kind!” Glûg tried to protest and you pursed your lips after realising how delicate the situation was indeed.

“I understand,” you nodded and stood up finally to approach him. “However, you must trust your Lord Father’s orders. Some battles require smaller losses to win the big thing in the end. I have lost a lot myself. I have lost things you have no idea of, Glûg,” you only said and he growled but then he looked down at your scolding expression. “We all have a part to play,” you added. “Some are born for sacrifice.”

Glûg looked up at your face as if he was scared of you. Perhaps he was but you were not given more time with him because he left the tent in a hurry. You sighed and went back on the chair. Everything was a mess and you just wanted the battle to be over. The worst thing was the uncertainty.

When the dawn came, you could no longer stay in one place. You left the tent and went deeper into the forest to hide between the tall trees. But instead of going straight to your favourite place, you took a small detour, trying to calm down your pounding heart and your shaky breath.

Your mind was plagued with all the things you could have done differently. You could have told Adar back in Mordor that Halbrand was Sauron. You could have slaughtered him yourself with Morgoth’s crown. You had known then, after all, where Adar was keeping it. You could have discouraged your husband instead of encouraging him when it came to the matter of attacking Eregion.

So many things you could have done differently but you had been blinded by Sauron and his empty promises.

You reached the cliff and there you could witness the true image of what you had caused – burning Eregion, one of the most beautiful Elven cities… now fallen. Your eyes welled with tears but could you really blame yourself? It was all him – Sauron.

“I have promised you, have I not?” His voice filled your head that very moment. You turned around but no one was there as your heart skipped a beat. His voice was overlooming and malicious – he was angry with you and you could feel it despite the physical distance.

“Promised me what?” You asked, angrily.

“I have promised I would destroy them all. All the beautiful Elven cities you felt so small compared to. Mithlond, Eregion… I have promised that you would watch them burn,” Sauron reminded you.

“You have promised me I would watch them burn with a crown upon my head,” you gritted your teeth.

“And you promised me you would bring me the very crown and put it onto my head. Back in Mordor, when I was your prisoner. How sweet you were to me then,” Sauron answered, his voice filled with sinister irony.

“Leave me,” you shook your head and shut your eyes close, letting the warm tears stream down your cheeks.

“You have outdone yourself, I must admit, my love. You might have earned my forgiveness with the army you brought me,” he whispered before leaving your mind as you had requested.

You took a deep breath in and opened your eyes rapidly.

Adar.

You had to find him. You had to find him now.

You gathered your skirts and ran back inside the forest, through the trees and the hidden paths you were able to see perfectly well because of your Elven heritage. Your ancestors had been running through forests like this one – maybe even the same woods. It was in your blood to be able to swiftly move through the trees.

In no time you found yourself in your favourite spot by the fallen tree where the sunlight was creeping in. And as you circled around, wondering where to go, you overheard glimpses of conversations. You immediately recognised your husband’s voice but also… Lady Galadriel’s?

With a furrowed brow, you followed the voices and found yourself approaching a small forest clearing with a stone circle, which had most likely been made by your kin back in the First Age. In the very centre of it stood the biggest stone and Morgoth’s crown was placed upon it.

Your husband was approaching Lady Galadriel and handing her back a Ring – you assumed he had managed to get the one forged by Lord Celebrimbor for her. And the power of this item you could feel even there, hidden between the trees. It was vibrating with pure light and chiming with a beautiful, Elven song.

And Adar’s face was different. It was… Healed. You gasped and took a step ahead but when he turned his face back at you, you could see the scars appearing once more because the Ring was now back on Lady Galadriel’s finger.

“We must go,” you swallowed the lump in your throat as you approached them. “We must go back home. Please,” you grabbed him by his sleeve. “I beg of you,” you added, not caring much about your pride anymore. You didn’t even mind Lady Galadriel’s curious gaze.

“On the contrary,” Adar smiled softly and caressed your cheek. “We have just made ourselves a deal with the Elves” he told you and you furrowed your brows before laying your eyes on Galadriel. She smiled nervously at you. “Together, we might destroy Sauron.”

Hope bloomed deep inside of you once more at his words. You cracked a smile at Galadriel, too.

“Thank you,” you breathed out to her.

But despite all of that, you had a feeling that something was not right. It was too easy. Sauron would never let it happen and he would surely predict it.

“We shall create a lasting peace in Middle-earth,” Adar added and you squeezed his arm tighter, lovingly. “Now and forever.”

You knew that deep down that was all he had ever wanted – for his children to have their own land and live there peacefully as he would watch over them. And you would, too. By his side. You smiled to yourself.

Your small moment of blissfulness was interrupted by a few Orcs carrying Glûg on the stretchers. His face was wincing out of pain and he seemed to be hurt. Adar left your side immediately and you stood there with Galadriel while you observed.

“What happened?” Adar kneeled down to check on his son.

“We found Sauron, Lord Father,” one of the Orcs explained and you moved uncomfortably at that mention. “He tried to make Glûg betray you, but he resisted. So, Sauron did this. The others are pursuing him now.”

“Forgive me, child,” Adar whispered to Glûg.

You wanted to go to him, too but you tilted your head instead when you realised that the rest of the Orcs were not kneeling by their dying brother’s side. No, they were keeping a fair distance as they formed a circle around Adar and Glûg, with their hands close to the hilts of their weapons.

“Adar…” You called his name. “My love, can you come back to me?” You reached out to him with your hand carefully as it trembled.

But he did not listen to you because, at that moment, his son’s pain was his priority.

“It’s too late…” Glûg groaned.

“It’s never too late,” Adar insisted. “Not even for me. And not for you, my son.”

“Adar…!” You insisted but you were ignored once more and tears filled your eyes. You even took a small step closer even though at that moment, you were not sure anymore if you could keep trusting the Orcs.

“It’s too late…” Glûg whimpered as if he was dying and a short moment after you watched in terror how he pierced Adar’s side with his blade.

You shouted and reached for your sword without thinking twice about whether your abilities were enough or not to fight them but when you were about to charge at the Orcs attacking your husband and him not even trying to defend himself… you were stopped.

A hand on your shoulder.

You looked around and saw Sauron’s face so close to yours that you gasped. He had a new form once again but this time it did not differ so much from the previous one. He was a blond Elf now, radiating light and wisdom. A blasphemous image, surely.

His eyes in that moment were nothing but two dark abysses as he was looking you up and down with pure hatred and curiosity.

“Let go of her!” Lady Galadriel ordered and you nearly chuckled at how naive she could be.

“She is exactly where she is supposed to be. By my side,” Sauron smirked and you turned your head around once more to glance at your husband.

Adar was laying on the ground now but he was still alive enough to see. You tried to get free from Sauron’s grasp and he surprisingly allowed it.

There was no point of fighting the Orcs now – there were too many of them. And perhaps some part of you wished for them to do to your body the same thing they had done to your husband. So, you tossed aside Morgoth’s sword because it would only slow you down and you hurried to Adar’s side as you kneeled by him and sobbed.

“Please, stop!” You begged the Orcs but they ignored you. Yet, their blades made sure to not even scratch you as they were piercing through Adar. “Please…” You begged and begged as Adar laid his blue eyes filled with sadness on your face. “My love, please, forgive me… Please…” You caressed his cheeks and his hair as your tears were falling down upon his face. “You can’t die thinking I did not love you. I am so sorry… So, so sorry…”

Sauron approached you all, which caused the Orcs to retreat. You noticed he was holding Morgoth’s crown now in his hand. They were standing in a circle above you and you were kneeling down, holding Adar’s dying body, sobbing and looking up at your corrupted lover.

“Please…” You whispered. “I love him,” you told Sauron.

But Sauron did not react. He only watched with a twisted satisfaction and you squeezed Adar’s cold hand. You felt his fingers trying to squeeze back yours, which only made you sob even more.

“My… children…” He looked at you as he breathed out in the Black Speech.

“They are not children anymore,” Sauron informed him and you shot him a deadly glance. Glûg was standing right next to him and your pain mixed with anger at the thought that it was him out of them all who had betrayed your husband.

“I forgive you,” Adar told you in the Quenya language now and your heart skipped a beat. “I love you.”

You were too heartbroken to say anything to that but you knew that he knew how much you loved him, too. And you knew he understood why you had done all those things – he understood what it meant to be under Sauron’s spell.

Sauron put his hand upon your shoulder and moved you away slightly to make more space for Glûg to finish Adar off with one final stroke as he yelled and you sobbed.

When the fallen Elves die, where do they go?

“What orders, Lord Sauron?” Glûg asked Sauron as all the Orcs bowed down. The very moment their Lord Father let out his last breath.

Crying silent tears, nothing but hatred grew and grew inside of your heart for them now. They were just like everyone had been saying – vile and cruel. They did not know anything about love or loyalty.

They did not deserve Adar.

You did not deserve Adar.

“Raze Eregion,” Sauron ordered but you couldn't care less about anything else now. All that mattered was your husband, laying there dead. You were still squeezing his hand. “Leave no Elf alive but bring me their leaders.”

“Hail Sauron! Hail the new Dark Lord!” Glûg shouted in the Black Speech and the rest followed, screaming it over and over.

In the meantime, you caressed Adar’s face and wiped the black blood streaming down his chin from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. You fixed his hair delicately and closed his eyelids and it nearly looked like he was asleep.

The Orcs finally ran away, passing you by. Sauron kept staring at you with contempt and you looked up with hatred.

“I will be back,” he smirked and walked away to join Lady Galadriel since the business between them was surely not over yet. You watched with gritted teeth how he picked up your sword and claimed it as his.

And, once more, you found yourself not caring. Because it did not matter, after all. Nothing mattered and you felt nothing, too. You were empty.

Sauron and Galadriel began their duel but you did not watch. She hurried away into the forest and Sauron followed her and now all you could hear was the sound of clinking metal.

“Sleep, my dear,” you whispered as you looked down at Adar’s peaceful face and caressed his hair. “Sleep, you deserve it,” you added with a trembling voice.

Your hands went lower to his own because you wanted to take the wedding ring off of his finger to keep it. You did so and then you reached with your fingers inside his sleeve and you sobbed more after finding there the leaves of the holy trees you had married under.

“Oh, Adar…” You lowered yourself to press your forehead to his. “Thank you for everything.”

He was the very first who had shown you love and given you power. You missed him already – his soft smiles at you, the brushes of his fingertips upon your cheeks, his rough voice, his usual calmness, his wisdom. His respect towards you and how safe he was able to make you feel. That you just knew he would never harm you – his wife.

You did not know how much time had passed but you were sitting there without moving an inch, holding Adar’s body close and feeling how his body was slowly getting colder and colder.

Familiar footsteps brought you back to reality. Sauron, wielding your sword in one hand and Morgoth’s crown in another with Galadriel’s blood dripping down from its iron spikes as you looked up to see his angry face.

“She refused you once more,” you pointed out, bitterly. “So you’re back to me. What would you do if she said yes? Would I join my husband in death then?” You asked, calling Adar your husband to spite him.

“She said no and I am here,” Sauron clenched his jaw. “What would you do if he was alive?” He asked and your expression changed because, sadly, he had a point.

He had betrayed you but you had betrayed him, too. It was only fair. But just like you had feared his wrath – perhaps he should fear yours, too. That would be fair as well.

“He is dead and I am here,” you caressed Adar’s cheek one last time and stood up to be on Sauron’s level. “Give me back my sword,” you reached out with your hand but there was no reaction from him. “It was not a plea. The sword is mine, so is Mordor and so is the army. I have earned them,” you stated, harshly and Sauron let out a contemptuous laugh. “The Lady of Light did not follow you and you were a fool for thinking she would even consider it,” you added and Sauron’s laughter stopped in an instant as he shot you a deadly glance.

He could not threaten you with death, though, because it would only mean a reunion with Adar, therefore you did not fear it anymore.

“Only I am rotten enough to follow you, Sauron,” you pointed out, bitterly. “Perhaps all of this had to happen for us to finally realise that we are cursed with one another,” you continued and walked past Adar’s body to get your sword from Sauron’s hands yourself. He allowed you to but he kept watching you closely. “We are doomed to walk side by side, my love,” you whispered but your words were malicious.

You looked deep into his scary eyes although you were sure yours were just as terrifying at that moment. And when you were getting the sword from him, your hands joined together for a moment as you two froze like that.

You hated and despised him. He had betrayed you. And yet, it was true that you had to be doomed to be with him because, still, you felt attracted to him. Still, you would follow him wherever he would go now.

You had nowhere else to go anyway.

“I rue the day I met you,” you told him in Black Speech, “shadow of Morgoth.”

Those words visibly angered him as he tilted his head with a smirk.

“If I am nothing but his shadow, what does that make you? You are merely made in the image of me,” Sauron remarked.

“No, I am my own self. My own person. My own soul with my own desires,” you raised your head high. “If I am to follow you, it will be on different terms this time. It will be as your equal,” you insisted.

“What use are you to me except for warming my bed?” Sauron grabbed you by your chin as he brought your face closer and his hot breath fanned over your skin.

“What use are you to me except for warming mine?” You answered, calmly.

Your spat was interrupted by Glûg himself who ran up to you with one of his friends. At the sight of him, Sauron let go of your chin and you both turned around to face the Orcs.

“We are overwhelmed, Lord Sauron!” Glûg exclaimed after approaching you two and you kept staring at him with nothing but pure hatred and disgust. Like he deserved to be treated after everything he had done. “The Dwarves are securing the Elves’ retreat,” he shook his head, nervously.

Sauron said nothing and kept staring at the Orc with a puzzled expression, surprised that he even dared to file such a complaint. Glûg laid his small and pleading eyes on you as he bowed down.

“If we pursue, many Uruks will die, Lady Mother,” he addressed you and his words caused your jaw to clench as blood boiled in your veins.

“Do not call me that,” you scolded him, harshly, as you glanced briefly at your husband’s dead body before looking back at the Orc. “I have no love for you,” you told him and Glûg’s eyes widened. “You have betrayed the only person who was able to love your filthy kin,” you added and you made your point very clear to the rest by piercing your sword right through him.

And what a satisfaction it brought you to watch him choke on it when it was him who had betrayed your husband the most. You twisted the blade and retreated it as Glûg fell down on the ground and curled up to die.

“What are you staring at?” You barked at his shocked and terrified friend. “Go back and fight!” You ordered and he ran away.

Short silence occurred between you and Sauron. When you finally broke it by sighing and turning around to walk away slightly, you felt his hands on your wrists, pulling you closer once more. His face was right in front of yours but this time there was no threat in them and they were no black abysses anymore but a beautiful shade of green.

However, you moved away.

“I want to give my husband a proper burial,” you crouched down next to Adar’s body. “Then I can go with you.”

You formed the funeral pyre yourself in that favourite spot of yours by the fallen tree. It took you a whole day since you were carefully choosing the best branches to do so. And it was you without anyone’s help moving Adar’s body on top of it. When you were able to finally light the fire, it was dark already but you knew he would prefer it this way.

You hesitated while carrying the torch because you knew that burning him was a definite act. He would be no more. Not even his flesh.

Yet, you couldn’t leave him behind to rot.

“In flames he returns to darkness,” you whispered in the Black Speech and lit the pyre before taking a step back and watching it burn.

You were so cried out that only one single tear streamed down your cheek and you did not even bother to wipe it.

A quiet sound of the footsteps made you realise that Sauron joined you but you did not look back. You knew he made that slight noise with the purpose of letting you know he was there, so you ignored him purposefully, too.

“You, Elves, you marry once in a lifetime, do you not?” He stood right behind you and you sighed at the irony in his voice.

“We do,” you nodded as you played nervously with the contents of your pocket – two wedding rings and the leaves of the holy trees. “But in the eyes of the Valar, we are married. You and I,” you turned your head around to look at his devilishly handsome face being lit by the light from the dancing flames. “I have given myself to you out of my own free will and during our first night together I became your wife,” you reminded him, bitterly. “You have many brides, though, am I right, Lord Sauron?”

He did not answer as he kept staring at the flames but he put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you a bit closer to him.

“None of them as terrific as you,” he confessed with a hint of admiration and leaned in to place a kiss upon your temple.

His words were like venom – treacherous and infectious. You liked to think that you were immune now to him and his craft but perhaps you had overestimated your own self.

You turned your head around and your noses brushed softly as you gave in and opened your lips to welcome his hungry kiss.

“My Dark Lady of Mordor,” he whispered between the kisses. “Commander of my Army. My Queen.”

His Queen. Everything you had once wanted and now you had it.

But what a price you had to pay for it.

What a price indeed… To find out that you had a heart hidden in there despite it all – only for it to die and rot shortly after.

And whatever was left of it, Sauron had a tight hold on it.

“Your Queen,” you cracked a sad smile and let go of the wedding rings and the leaves inside your pocket to raise your hand and caress his smooth cheek. “Your malediction.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE 2.0 — Hi, it's me again! 👋🏻 If you are here for angst, then I think reading Adar's ending might make it worse for you because it shows you the possibility of what could have been only if our Reader made slightly different choices. If you read both endings, you will see that it was mostly small gestures of kindness and compassion that decided her fate. 💓

MASTERLIST

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (04x11)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 4 Episode 11: Good While It Lasted

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of the housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: a little breakdown, a little surprise

Word Count: I'm tired as fuck. But I like my cozy bed.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

A shuffle is heard off-screen before a familiar figure comes to sit in front of the camera Loki: *adjusting himself in the seat* *finally gets comfortable* *looks at the camera* *sighs* Footage cuts to the same recording room but this time it is you in a familiar white shirt over a tank top and booty shorts You: Hey Javi *sits down* Long time no see *smiles at the camera* ~ Loki: Uhhh *scratches his chin* I was not expecting to see Y/N on the mission. I mean, none of us were. But *raises his brows while looking at infinity* there she was *camera takes the liberty to focus on Loki's pale hands before panning in to show them pressing and scratching each other* ~ You: *licks lips* yeah I knew the boys would be there.  I just could not fathom that *raise your hands to point at nothing, in particular, next to you* all the boys would be there. *takes in a long breath* *camera zooms in on your face* You: *nod* *in a whisper* I was not expecting Loki to be there *scratches an itch on your neck* ~ Loki: She looks *adjusts the zero prescription glasses he is wearing* fine. *nods* she looks good. ~ You:  *chuckle* *scratch an itch on the back of your neck* *silence*…he looks well. *blink* The tattoos look nice. ~ Loki: uhh…*adjusts himself in the seat* yup that’s pretty much it *adjusts his glasses again* hopefully she doesn’t get into any trouble *chuckles* *camera zooms onto his busy hands again*

  The Teflon Mansion: Leo's Office The security guy was using every last ounce of his strength to choke the life out of you. Sam, at the other end of the hacked CCTVs, was perspiring in the worst possible sense. "WHERE THE HECK IS EVERYBODY?!!" A figure threw itself on the guard as if on cue, knocking him off you. You turned on your side, wheezing for air before turning to see Loki punching the lights out of the guard. Loki never bothered checking if the guard would get up. Instead, he turned to you. "You okay?" You nodded. "We need to get those prints out." You stopped Loki short in his steps towards you, diverting his attention towards the glass case of blueprints. "Right," the God replied. You got up with the support of the desk. All the while Loki had his eyes on you. "Do you think it'll break if we throw it down from this floor?" Loki furrowed his brows for a second. "We need to keep the prints intact." "Oh," you nodded and shrugged. "Had to ask," you whispered before taking a little laser keychain out of your pocket and raising it to eye level. "That's not a laser laser," Natasha's voice crackled through the earpieces. "Then why do I have it?" You fumed. You stepped away from the desk only to feel like you lost your footing, your body wobbling while your hands looked for support. Loki was quick to grab one of your hands while his other hand went to your upper back to help you stand straight. "Easy. Easy," he announced softly. "Your brain is trying to adjust to the scare it just got. Take long breaths. In......out.....that's right. One more time."

On the other end of the camera, Sam and Natasha inhaled along with Loki's words.  "And out." Both of them let out a lungful of air before the former opened his comms to the other channel. "What is taking you guys so long?" "Oh shut it, Wilson. It is hard running on cement tiles in these godforsaken sandals and fucking tight shorts. "The shorts are not tight, you just have a big butt!" Peter chimed from behind. Natasha switched the cameras on the side screen and watched Scott, Peter and Javi running parallel to the garden porch before reaching the poolside. "Okay, what's our exit strategy?" Scott asked the guys in the chair. "You still don't have the prints," Sam stressed, running his hands over his face. Scott looked at Javi's necklace spy cam with all shades of exhaustion.

Scott: *angry* What have Loki and Y/N been doing all this time? *closes his lips* *blinks* *furrows his brows* *softly* What have Loki and Y/N been doing all this time?

"I'm good. I'm good," you announced before you and Loki awkwardly shifted positions, standing a considerable distance away from each other, unsure how to proceed. "Should we-" you tapped the glass case, not sure why you did that- "take this whole thing with us?" "Take what?!" A familiar voice walked in from the door, making you and Loki take a step back. Leo witnessed his security lying unconscious while Loki and you stood on either side of his desk with the glass container out in the open. He stood there for one stretched moment before breaking into a chuckle. "God, all this time I thought you were just a baddie who was into torture kink. But you were playing me to get to this." You stood there mum, not sure how to respond to that sentence. "And was this beautiful dude in on this?" Loki was about to break into a smile but Leo drew out a gun from behind him. "Leo, drop that," you commanded him, "be a good boy and drop it. Now." Loki looked at you in confusion. So did Sam. "F***! Don't do that to me. You know I love it when you dominate me like that." Leo's voice broke. Loki did not know whether to judge the manchild or you. Both looked at each other before eyeing the glass case. Loki turned his head further to look at the French glass window behind the desk. You followed his gaze and nodded. "But I'm sorry, baby girl-" Leo raised his gun and switched off the safety before pointing it directly at you, "-nothing's more precious than daddy's money." "NOW!" Loki screamed as he picked up the case and threw it at the window, letting the strengthened glass shatter the window to make way for you to jump. Loki followed behind you.

Down on the ground, the boys heard the glass shatter. Javier's camera recorded a glass case coming down towards the pool before disappearing into a void. Then came you. And then Loki. Loki grabbed you midair, letting his back hit the water first. Peter grabbed the floaties by the pool and threw them towards the splash point. "Boys, your ride is here," Natasha declared. "There's a back gate by the pool hedge. Go. go. go." Javi and Scott grabbed your arms while Loki raised you up to help you out of the pool. Peter, meanwhile, shot a web at the shattered window, stopping Leo and his guards from raising an alarm regarding the trespasser's location.

.

Twenty Minutes Later A piece of cloth wiped the lens before Javi's content face came into focus. The camera turned around to the group sitting around a table in a booth inside a dimly lit restaurant. There were barely any customers during the midnight hour. The waitress came up with the coffee jug but no one dared have any. "Do you have a cheeseburger?" Scott asked the waitress while the camera focused on you coming out of the washroom and Loki getting up to make room for you to sit. "Here," the God offered you the shirt he was wearing, making the camera focus on the split-second stare your eyes shared with the lens before you and the camera looked at the bare shoulders in that white tank top. "Thanks." You wore the shirt as soon as you got it, scooching towards the bay of the booth and looking out at the quiet night. "Great," Scott chimed before turning towards everyone else, "what will you guys have?" "Wait," the camera turned away to look at the bewildered waitress staring at Scott, "all that food was just for you?" .

One Hour Later The camera recorded you wrapping your arms around yourself at a distance outside the restaurant, watching a couple of teenagers walk down the road while doing a TikTok dance. "Tea?" The camera panned in on Loki offering you a takeaway cup while keeping one for himself. You took the cup and leaned over the lone motorcycle standing in the parking in front of the restaurant. Loki stands there too, his hands messing with the instrument cluster of the motorcycle. "Nice tattoos," Loki subtly pointed at your arms. "They are temporary," you acknowledged, "I was just experimenting with the persona for the mission." "Oh," Loki nodded, raising the cup to his lips and smiling. "Uh, so are mine." The camera turned to watch Scott and Peter come out of the restaurant arguing. Peter stopped right by the door and slapped Scott in the chest. The Ant Man let out a tiny ow before slapping Peter in the chest. Peter’s irritated face whipped towards Scott and pointed at you and Loki before slapping his arm his time. Scott let out a muted gasp before taking Peter’s arm and slowly moving away- and out of the frame.

"You look like you've lost weight," you wondered out loud, making Loki look down at himself. "Me? I think you are the one who has lost weight," Loki quipped. You looked down at your stomach. "Well, that's not a good thing. I like my chubby body." Loki nodded in affirmation, taking another sip of his tea.

There was a ten-second moment of silence. “Are they talking?” The camera jumped and wobbled before turning to Scott and Petter crawling next to it from inside the bushes.

Javi: *signs* we were right across the road from Loki and Y/N. *stares into a camera and shakes his head*

“So they’re finally taking you on missions.” You broke the silence and gulped the last bit of the tea before tossing the biodegradable cup into the bin. “Surprisingly, yes.” Loki nodded. “Though Barton stares at me without blinking the entire ride.” You snorted before letting out a giggle. Loki turned to look at you and the camera panned in on his face to record the soft smile eroding on his lips. "Yeah, I can imagine that quite clearly," you chimed.

The camera could hear Scott’s whine from outside the frame while Peter tried to shush him.

"Maybe-" you shrugged and raised your hands in front of your chest in contemplation- "Barton likes you. And he's obsessed with you." The camera panned in on Loki just as the tea went down the wrong way and the God ended up coughing his lungs out. "By the Norns!" He tried to wipe the spilt beverage off his face. "If this is his obsession I wonder what he'll do when he finally falls in love with me."

You chuckled. Loki joined you. The camera turned away from the two of you for a moment to watch Peter and Scott squatting beside Javi with their face in their palms; smiling till their eyes closed.

Turning back to get you two in the frame, the lens caught a taxi coming and stopping in front of you two. "Wanda is going to love your take w-" "My ride's here," you announced, cutting Loki short, catching the God- as well as the eavesdroppers- off guard. The smile that once glowed on Loki's face tonight diluted. "Are you not coming ho-are you not coming over to the facility?" You took the loose strands of hair coming in front of your face and tucked them behind your ear. Your eyes no longer met Loki's gaze. "No. I'm...tired. I should go home." The camera zoomed in further and saw that your smile had evaporated. Your chest rose to take in a lungful, and you pursed your lips. "Bye, Loki," you stated softly with a gentle wave, gradually taking steps away from him. Loki stood there for a moment, blinking. He too breathed in one long huff of air. "Bye...Y/N." The camera watched you sit inside the taxi and the yellow vehicle took its time to ride away. And just as it became out of focus, Scott and Peter stood in the frame. "Wait...wait wait wait wait wait." Scott held his head with both hands, trying to understand the situation. Peter stood next to him with mouth agape and a shade of disbelief being coloured in the arms of sadness, staring periodically between the lone figure of Loki looking into nothingness and the taxi which suddenly had its break lights on a few meters away. "What the hell did they just talk about?" Scott was still trying to process the moments that had passed. Peter's gaze was stuck on the taxi that had stopped now. The spider boy tapped on Scott's shoulder, trying to get his attention. The camera, for the time being, only focused on Scott's inevitable breakdown. "But everything was going so well!" Scott gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "They jumped in the pool together, Loki took her out of the pool. Loki dried them both with magic-" Peter tapped at Scott's shoulder again as the back door of the taxi opened- "and then they had dinner together. They even laughed at the mac and cheese portions! What the hell went wrong?!" An out-of-focus figure ran from the taxi back towards the restaurant front.

Now, the camera whipped away from a sulking Scott towards Loki being grabbed by his arm from behind him. "Loki," you tried to breathe his name, never letting go of his arm. Loki observed that and so did the cautious zoom of the camera. "We have to go." The camera was too quick to pan in on the God's flawless face. Loki's brows furrowed. But his pupils widened just a little. The arm being was held by your urgent touch- almost reacting on its own- let his hand graze your elbow. His fingers secured you in front of him in a light hold, not letting you go. "Where?" is all he asked. "Home-" your voice nearly broke- "Pepper's water just broke."