#i am open to any and all suggestions!!!!!

[meloyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Rollo's part is fairly suggestive. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :)

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ♦️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

•ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme - (Kinda sugesstive) 

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Ooh for your drabble challenge:

125. “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait...are you...what?!”

Angsty!! -> 🙈 and with Nico Hischier. Please and thank you! 🩵

ooo of course I love writing some angst and I don't ever remember writing angst for Nico yet... I am truly sorry this took me an embarrassing amount of days to answer. 😔Also this turned out so much longer than I thought it would but I kind of like the background I gave the prompt.

Drabble Challenge. Drabble Masterlist.

"Quit moving, I'm trying to sleep. Wait... are you... what?!"

Sharing a bed with Nico Hischier was not something you were planning on doing when you agreed to go on this weekend getaway with your best friend. But little did you know that everyone but you and Nico were the only two single people in the group. Of course they only room left in the house in your air bnb by the time you got there was a makeshift office with a small twin bed in the corner. So now here you were sharing a bed with Nico, who just so happened to be your friend's partner's best friend who also happened to your ex-boyfriend.

Once you both made it into the tiny office/spare bedroom, immediately the words left your mouth, "Uh I can sleep on the coach in living room downstairs." Already turning around with your hand still on your luggage as you start to turn around but Nico lightly grabs your arm to stop you.

"Stop, You're not sleeping down there Y/N that room is full of windows and the light will wake you up tomorrow morning or literally anyone going to the bathroom in the middle of the night." His voice soft, almost pleading for you not to leave him in this room by himself.

Sighing deeply, closing your eyes for a few seconds the exhaustion of traveling creeping in on you slowly, all you were craving was somewhere to sleep. "Fine." you grunt, taking a deep breath you continue. "I'll sleep on the floor in here."

After being with him, you can translate the curse words that leave his mouth in Swiss German. Something along the lines of 'goddamn me, bullshit.'

"So what's your idea then?" The irritation clear in your voice.

"I am not letting you sleep on the floor Y/N/N." His voice more defined from earlier, the stubbornness clear in his voice now. You can physically see him take a shaky breath as his voice cracks due to nerves as he suggests "We can share a bed?"

Finally making eye contact with him for the first time since entering the room, your face full of shock at his suggestion. But all you see starring back at you is his soft big brown eyes begging you to stay. "It's a twin Neeks." you whisper suddenly scared of making your voice any louder.

"I know. But were both tired and we don't have any other options. Can we just go to bed please." he begs lightly reaching for your hand and it was as if as soon as his hand lightly creased yours, you were back in time to six months ago before you both decided you needed space because neither of you had time due to your careers to be in a committed relationship. And in that moment, you felt your heart break a little and your pulse quicken. "Please baby." Nico begged the nickname rolling of his tongue so naturally, your not even sure if he heard it himself.

But in an attempt to protect yourself you find your arguing even though your voice was above a whisper as you close your eyes. "We have other options Nico. You just don't like them." Opening them again after a few seconds you meet his face again and you knew there was no other option, you were about to share a twin size bed with your 6'1 ex boyfriend Nico. "okay." you admit in defeat, you swear for a second you saw a smile on his lips as he slowly pulls you to the bed and climbs in first putting his back against the wall, laying on his side.

It wasn't an ideal situation, deciding it was best to let lay on your side facing away from Nico trying not to touch him despite having no space. Apparently Nico had different plans when you felt his arms circle around your waist pulling you so your back was flesh to his chest. He did it so fast, as i it was second nature, an instinct taking over. Nico was asleep in no time, he use to claim he always was with you in his arms, and you could tell he was asleep by the little breaths he was leaving on the back of your shoulder where his head was tucked down. Sadly for you, sleep didn't come as easily it was if your brain and your heart were having an internal battle on what was happening. Trying not to focus on how safe you felt being back in his arms because this was a one night thing, trying to remind yourself the reality of the situation.

Somewhere around 3 AM you fell asleep, but you didn't sleep long as you look at the clock and see it was just a little after 5 AM. Your not sure if it's from Nico's body heat or just the fact of sharing such a small bed. But you felt hot and sticky all of a sudden. Trying to carefully remove Nico's arms off of you so that you could attempt to get comfortable and all fall back asleep for a few more hours. But there was no hope when you felt Nico whine behind you due to the movement.

"Quit moving, I'm trying to sleep." he whined pulling you closer and shifting back to both of your orginial sleeping position. In an insenence Nico felt it his entire body stiffened and opened his eyes in fear begging that you won't say anything about his morning wood but his fear was coming true when you asked.

"Wait." you said trying to decide if you felt his hard cock poking into your lower back or if you were making it up, but when you were sure you knew you were right you gulped and whispered. "Nico are you?" Slowly waiting a response you knew Nico was embarrassed, he let go of your arms and tried to turn his body to face towards the wall but wasn't as fast as you. Quickly you turned around in his arms lightly grabbing his forearm and lightly whispered his name again trying to meet his eyes. "Nico, look at me."

He paused in his movements in a few seconds he slowly looked down at you and asked "what?"

"It's okay baby, I miss you too." Not sure if your words would even make sense to anyone else but you knew Nico would understand. Breaking up was the hardest thing either of you ever had to do. "Nico I miss you with every fiber of my being and I think it's kind of hot that I gave you morning wood without even trying." you smirk at him. In an instant he closed the gap between you both into a messy kiss pulling you to lay on top of him. Neither of you knew what this meant but you knew one thing, whatever the next step was both of you were doing it together.

[sanakimohara]

have you seen the way minho grabbed changbin?

[ Oh I saw it alright ;)… ]

[ MEAN DOM ] L. M.

pairing: minho x fem! reader

summary: minho manhandling you and just being a little toxic..

playlist:

type: headcannon / no plot

warnings: MDNI + SMUT + NSFW + IMPLIED DOM/SUB DYNAMIC + MEAN MINHO + SLAPPING + SLIGHT DEGRADATION + ORAL

a/n: Idk what this is honestly. I just wrote it right after seeing the inbox message. Let’s hope some of you little heathens like it.

Mean Dom Minho always being a little mean and direct when manhandling anyone, and everyone is so naturally fitting for him. And don't we all love to see him do it?

Mean Dom Minho unconsciously reaching a hand out for your waist, even if you’re merely six inches away from him, to dig his fingertips into your hip to pull you closer to him is a constant habit of his. He doesn't need any reason to touch or guide you. He wants to—all the time. No matter if it hurts you a little bit. There’s no point in squirming or wriggling away. It's a losing game for you the moment you're in his line of sight.

Mean Dom Minho bends you over any surface at any given moment in private. A hand tangled through your hair or clasped around the nape of your neck as he kicks your feet apart and angles your body into whatever position he feels like fucking you senseless in.

Mean Dom Minho, whose handprints are clear on your skin. Red and deep maroon imprints scatter the soft expanse of your body. He’s addicted to marking up your ass until your sob for him to stop, to give you a chance to quit shaking and allow yourself time to adjust to the excitement vibrating through you every time his open palm collides with your tingling skin. But he won't stop. He never does until he's satisfied. He hits you until those tears running down your cheeks can’t compare to the creamy slick trailing from your folds.

You can’t sit comfortably anywhere for days on end. You feel too embarrassed to explain why sitting in his lap is your only choice when the other members notice your aversion to empty seats.

Shame and guilt eat away at you under their passing glances of worry, but you're too flustered by the whisper of a smile on Minho’s lips as he kisses your neck in a twisted gesture of comfort to reassure them nothing is bothering you.

He’s humiliating you without even trying.

It's unfair.

Unforiging even.

And he’ll never stop doing it.

Mean Dom Minho is easily annoyed when he’s focused on a task, able to ignore you for ten minutes before he snaps and grabs you by the neck. You wince in shock and slight pain as he twists you around to lean in on him, pulling and tugging his hold on you until your whines simmer down into an apology. “M’ sorry, m sorry m sorry-“

“No you aren’t.”

He pulls again, forcing your head backward and steadying your back against his chest. His glare is direct, calculated, and increasingly suggestive.

Your lips tremble, and you suddenly fear what he might do with you. You weren't at all comforted by the realization of being put into a vulnerable position with little effort on his part. “Min…I-I really…am-“

“Sorry?” he scoffs, lips curling into a smile, barely easing his stern gaze. “All that persisting and whining and crying while I was working, but now you’re sorry?”

You swallow hard, heat rushing to your cheeks, coloring them a rose red as he roughly releases you from his grip.

Mean Dom Minho doesn’t let you revel in the split seconds of freedom, shoving you into a wall with one hand while the other drops his phone on the nearest surface. The smile begging to show on your face morphs into a sly smirk, seeing his head tilt at you. “This what you wanted right, sweetheart?” He purrs quietly, inching closer to you until you breathe in every breath he lets out.

“To piss me off when I'm working?”

It’s hard to form a thought or force a sound out of your mouth when he stares straight into your wandering eyes, raising a steady hand to your chin, so you have no choice but to look him in the face.

“I’m sorr-“

“And I’m not convinced you really are sorry …” he seethes.

Your lips press shut, guilty tears in your eyes as he lands a fleeting slap across your face. “You’re gonna have to do better than that…”

It’s a threat.

A dare to see if you can dig a deeper hole for yourself...

And you take him up on it with little regard for keeping your dignity intact because there's no better way to get under his skin.

“I’m s-“

Another slap, harder, quicker.

“Not good enough …try again…” he mutters, expression unchanging and eyes darkening, hearing you whimper.

You take another breath, “I’m-“

And another, sharper than the first few strikes across your reddening cheeks. He lowers the same hand, beginning to leave its mark on your flushed cheeks to secure a bruising grip on your jaw.

“You can do so much better than that, sweetheart…”

You hesitate, knowing what he wants but still clinging to your dormant pride.

Mean Dom Minho, who breaks down your stubbornness with ease. He’s mean to you. Rough with you. Pushing your wanin ego until you can’t stand being talked down to any longer and giving in to what he wants.

“Much better,” he sighs, watching through half-lidded eyes as you lower to your knees in front of him, mouth slipping open to suck on his thumb as he cups your chin. His erection stares you right in the face, poking through his sweats and twitching the second your hands rise to rest on his toned thighs.

Your mouth waters as he backs your head into the wall, his free hand being a guard between the hard surface and your soft scalp.

You suck on his fingers sloppily, letting him guide your head at a slow pace, whining in disappointment when he pulls them out of your warm mouth to smear the spit and gloss across your parted lips.

Mean Dom Minho allows a smile to cross his face, hands running through your hair, beckoning you towards his cock as your hands ease the throbbing muscle out from thin layers of fabric.

Mean Dom Minho is content with fucking your face just as rough as he handles you. Using its warmth until your jaw falls slack and your drool, mixed with his precum, streams down your chin. You don’t fight him, staring up at him through long lashes that flutter with pride each time he moans your name and curses under his breath, feeling the passion you put into sucking him off.

“This s’ exactly what you deserve, baby…the only thing an attention whore like you needs.…” he groans loudly, laughing wryly, hearing and feeling you gag around his cock.

You’re offered no warning when his cum seeps down your throat and coats your tongue, and you don’t expect one because you know he’s right.

You needed him to treat you this way.

To handle you however and whenever he wanted to.

a/n: the moment in question for those who are wondering.. 🖤

other links: n/a

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so fucking...ugh, I can't even begin to explain my visceral need for him to do this to me…

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

Final Thoughts

All in all, I think this blog has been a great success. My goal when I started this was to show off as much of the game as possible in a single playthrough, and I think I've achieved that.

If there's anything I could change, it's that I did the earliest parts of this playthrough without knowledge of FAYDE, and I wish I could redo them while able to see which choices mattered.

I'll also admit that as the blog went on I started writing longer and longer updates and leaving less up to the polls. Partially this was because, with FAYDE, I could see which choices had long-term consequences (it's fewer than it seems), and partially because after a while I felt I could predict which way polls would go (like when it came to political choices, for example). Then again, there were a couple of times the results genuinely surprised me, so maybe the game would have gone a different way if I let you make more choices? Still, I think this was best decision, as it let us actually finish the game in a reasonable time frame.

As to the playthrough itself, this was a very successful run of Disco Elysium, by which I mean we got pretty much all of the best possible outcomes. Getting both Wompty-Dompty-Dom Centre and Actual Art Degree allowed us to get much more XP than you would on a 'blind' playthrough and that combined with some solid luck got us some pretty high rolls. That's... nice, but in some ways I can't help but feel it goes against the spirit of the game. So much of DE is about failure and recovery and the mechanics play into that, and I can't help but wonder if we cheated ourselves out of the experience of failing more often.

But, that's all of my thoughts about how the playthrough went (though I'm open to questions if you have any). That brings us to the end of Disco Elysium, and the end of this blog... at least for now.

I'm going to be taking a break for a while longer, but I am open to the idea of playing other games in the future. I have a few ideas myself, but if you have any suggestions for choice-based narrative games (especially ones that are text-heavy), I'd like to hear them.

[rosyrosethings]

KIng Harry and The Nanny p2

this is part 2 of Harry and the nanny. you don't have to read part 1. This is just another part of the story.

Warning: smut, fluff, blow job,

Harry's heart raced like a teenage boy's when he was near her. Every afternoon, as the children drifted off to sleep, his desire for her became overwhelming and irresistible. He would quietly slip away from his duties as king and pull her into any vacant space they could find - a closet, an unoccupied room - just to indulge in her sweet taste. Even just a simple kiss from her was enough to satisfy his longing. It had been so long since he had felt genuine affection from anyone, and he craved her attention more than anything else. When they were alone, she would always tenderly kiss his head before returning to their daily routines. Harry lived for those moments, cherishing every kiss on his forehead from her. Y/n was well aware of the nature of their relationship; after all, he was the married king and she was only the nanny. But she couldn't deny the intense craving she felt for his touch, his love, anything that came from him.

On this particular Saturday night, Y/n relished in having the day off from her duties and lounged at home with her roommate Bri, unable to shake off thoughts of Harry. Her and Bri set there enjoying there second bottle of wine and each other company.

"Bri its all he doess, doesn't do anything else. He won't even let me touch him." She said, resting on the couch looking at her roomate Bri.

"Maybe he’s like really into pleasing you." She said looking up at her offering her comfort.

"Yea he is but He wants more I could tell. Maybe he just doesn't want me in that way." She said sadly.

"No he wants you. Everyone who sees you wants you in that way." She said looking at her up and down. Y/n laughed

"I am serious bri.." she said laughing

"Maybe hes gay." Bri said, Y/n laughed harder

"Oh please, Bri. He's definitely not gay," Y/n said, rolling her eyes. "You should see the way he looks at me sometimes. It's like he wants to devour me whole."

Bri waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Ooh, sounds steamy. So why don't you make a move then? Take control for once?"

Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's not that simple. He's the king, remember? And married. I can't just throw myself at him."

"Why not? Sounds like he's already throwing himself at you every chance he gets," Bri pointed out.

Y/n bit her lip, considering. "I don't know... What if I'm reading too much into it? What if he rejects me?"

Just then, Y/n's phone buzzed with a text.

‘I know it’s your day off but I need to see you.’ -Harry

‘Is everything okay?’ -Y/n

‘I’m just missing you. I’m coming over now.’- Harry

The text threw her for a loop. Y/n immediately shot up and started straightening up the apartment

“Are you okay?” Bri asked watching her jump from place to place erratic cleaning.

“He’s coming over! Bri go to your room. I didn’t tell him i told you. I was supposed to keep the affair a secret.” She said,

Bri's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth forming a perfect O shape. "Wait, what? He's coming here? Now?" She jumped up from the plush couch, scattering scattered items as she grabbed her phone and hastily stuffed them into her bag. "Okay, okay, I'm going." Her voice was strained with excitement and urgency. "But you better tell me everything later!"

As Bri hurried off into her room, Y/n's heart raced with anticipation and nerves. She quickly smoothed down her hair, checking herself in the mirror and straightening her clothes. The doorbell rang just moments later, startling her.

As Y/n's heart raced with anticipation, she reached for the door handle and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She swung the door open to reveal Harry standing there, his tall frame shrouded in an all-black ensemble. A dark hoodie was pulled up over his head, casting shadows over his face, while large, opaque sunglasses shielded his eyes from view. Despite the darkness surrounding him, Y/n could still feel the intensity of his gaze on her as she stood before him,

"Y/n," he breathed out, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. As soon as he entered, he shed his hood and shades, revealing his mesmerizing green eyes that seemed to intensify upon locking onto hers. In an instant, he had her pressed against the wall, his body flush against hers. His lips crashed onto hers in a passionate kiss that took her breath away. "I couldn't wait to do that," he whispered huskily as he pulled away, leaving Y/n feeling weak at the knees.

"Maybe we should go to my room, don't want to wake my roommate." She said looking up at him. He smiled

"Lead the way love." She smiled at him grabbing his hand leading him to her bedroom.  She opened the door to her room quickly closing the door behind him. She immediately started to kiss him again. Softly leading him to her bed. She pushed him down on the mattress. Her standing over him.

"Hoodie off." She demanded, he smiled at her attitude. She wanted to please him for once. He obliged taking off his hoodie. Revealing his bare chest. Y/n sat on his lap straddling him.

"I can't wait to have you in my mouth." He said looking up at her. She kissed his lips.

"Not today I will have you in mines." She said kissing his lips again. She felt him stiffening up at her response. Harry was scared. She pushed him down on her mattress as she kissed his neck.

"What wrong? You don't want me to please you." She asked looking at him propped up on both of her hands. Ge saw the disappointment in her eyes.

"No baby, I just haven't had sex in a long time. I don't want to cum to fast. Just looking at you makes me dick hard. I bust just eating you out. I could imagine how it would be inside you." He said, looking up at her. She pressed down her hips to his. Grinding against his dick which was hard already.

"I don't care if you cum quick. I want you inside me I want to see your face while you're deep in my pussy." She said leaning down to kiss him. His dick twitched at her words. There lips moved against one another her hands made her way down his chest. She sat up taking off her shirt.

She slowly slid off of him, her fingers hooking around the waistband of his black joggers as she helped him remove them. Her hands moved effortlessly, unfastening his pants and revealing a pair of gray briefs underneath. In the dim light, she could see the outline of his strong hips and toned muscles, causing a wave of desire to wash over her. She couldn't resist running her hands along his defined abdomen, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. It was as if she couldn't get enough of him, wanting to explore every inch of his body with her touch.

“Gotta get these off.” A mischievous smile played on her lips as she reached for the waistband of his gray briefs. With a teasing tug, she pulled them down, revealing his eager arousal that pressed against his stomach. She gazed at it with a lust in her eyes, knowing that she was in full control of his pleasure. Her hand went him. Harry sighed in relief. Its been so long since he's been pleasured. Especially like this. Her hands went up and down his shaft.

“I’m gonna put you in my mouth now.” Her words dripped seductively from her lips as she looked up at Harry, her hand wrapped tightly around him. A feeling of pure ecstasy coursed through his body at the mere touch of her fingers. She placed a soft kiss on the tip before swirling her tongue around it, sending shivers down his spine. He struggled to hold back, determined not to reach his peak too soon in this blissful moment. But every sensation she created was like fire, filling him with an overwhelming desire for more. Every part of him wanted to surrender to her and fully give into this pleasure that she so expertly provided.

Y/n continued to pleasure Harry with expertise, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring him to the edge of ecstasy. She could feel his body tensing beneath her touch, his breath hitching with each movement she made. As she continued to take him deeper into her mouth, she could hear Harry's ragged breathing turning into soft moans of pleasure.

"Oh god, Y/n," Harry groaned, his voice husky with desire. "You're so good at this."

She hummed in response, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Encouraged by his praise, she increased the intensity of her movements, determined to make him lose control.

Harry's fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her rhythm as he whispered, "Faster, baby. I need more of you."

Y/n complied eagerly, taking him as deep as she could as she quickened her pace. The sounds of their passion filled the room, mingling with the creak of the bed and Harry's increasingly urgent pleas for more.

"I can't hold back much longer," Harry gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily.

Y/n pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with his before she teased, "Do you want to cum in my mouth, Harry?" Her hand still moving up and down his dick.

His eyes darkened with desire as he nodded eagerly. "Yes, please, Y/n.”

“Do it then.” She said, With a sultry smile before she took him back in fully, using every trick and movement she knew to push him closer to the edge. His dick fully down her throat.

As their connection intensified, Harry's moans grew louder and more desperate, echoing off the walls of the room. Y/n eagerly took him in her mouth, feeling his fingers tightly gripping her hair. With one final deep thrust into her mouth and a guttural groan of euphoria, Harry reached his peak. Y/n greedily swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him on her tongue. He came with such force that it almost overwhelmed her, but she eagerly lapped up every last bit of his pleasure.

As he came down from his high, Harry gazed up at Y/n with a mix of awe and gratitude. "That was… incredible," he panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Y/n grinned triumphantly before leaning in to press a lingering kiss on his lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," she whispered softly against his skin.

Harry wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her close to him. He placed a kiss on her forehead. She looked up him as his hand traced her back

“When was the last time someone pleased you?” Y/n asked, looking up at him.

“Well charlotte is the only woman i have been with and I haven’t did anything with her since…”he said trailing off.

“Wait you’ve only been with charlotte?” She asked a bit shock. Feeling a bit like she took something away from him.

"And you." He said with nonchalant ease, his gaze steady and unwavering. Y/n sat up, her heart racing as she looked down at him. His face was a mixture of vulnerability and strength, making her heart ache for him. "But Charlottes more of a just a duty to my kingdom," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "My parents died when I was young, and Charlotte was one of the women they had approved of before their tragic accident. I had to marry quickly because of my impending kingship. But Charlotte was never my true love."

He reached out and gently took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. Y/n felt her cheeks flush with warmth at his touch and words.

"But then I saw you," he said softly, his eyes shining with fondness. "You took my breath away. You were wearing a black turtleneck sweater with white trousers and black boots, and a black hat to top it off. It was snowing but you were determined to get a picture of the palace for our social media. I happened to look out the window and saw you, and I couldn't help but ask William who the crazy lady outside was."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he remembered that day. "William told me you were American and that you worked on the royal social media team. And then I came downstairs shortly after, and there you were - standing in front of the fireplace in Buckingham Palace. Your hands were clasped in front of you, trying to warm them by the fire. Snowflakes were melting off your coat, but I could see your fingers were freezing cold."

His eyes softened as he recalled his actions that day. "I couldn't resist approaching you with a blanket to wrap around your shoulders. And then you turned and looked at me for the first time - our eyes met and I felt something I had never felt for anyone else.” He said, his green eyes meeting hers.

Y/n felt her heart swell with emotion at Harry's words. She remembered that day vividly - how nervous she had been on her first day working at the palace, how cold she had been after taking photos outside in the snow. And then how her breath had caught in her throat when she turned to see the handsome king offering her a blanket, his green eyes warm with concern.

"I remember," she said softly. "I was so flustered I could barely speak. You were so kind to me."

Harry's thumb stroked her hand gently. "From that moment on, I found myself looking for excuses to be near you. I'd walk through rooms I knew you'd be working in, hoping to catch a glimpse. When the nanny position opened up, I immediately thought of you - selfishly wanting you to be around more often."

Y/n's mind whirled with this newfound knowledge. The pieces of the puzzle were finally starting to come together. "So you're the one who recommended me for the job," she exclaimed, a playful giggle escaping her lips.

A warm smile spread across his face as he replied, "Yes, the best decision I ever made."

[sansaorgana]

— FADING LIGHT

PAIRING — Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — When your daughter's mysterious sickness progresses, you are desperate to find a cure. You choose to travel all the way to Mirkwood but you are captured by the Orcs on the road and soon you find out that their leader is your husband who you thought of as dead.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I fell for Adar while watching Season One already but in the last episode when he mentioned that Sauron promised him children... I just knew I had to write some fic about him having a family once that he lost. 🤧 Also, I am like 100 percent sure that Adar was not his name when he was an Elf but I didn't want to make it up on my own so I kept it the same. 😅 The daughter's name – Moreth – apparently means gloom. The ending is bittersweet and angsty... but with an open ending! 🥺 PS – I've read The Lord of The Rings and The Hobbit books but it was long time ago and I have never even tried to read The Silmarillion but I tried to do some research on the wiki and I hope the fic is pretty accurate.

WORD COUNT — 6,420

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FADING LIGHT

You watched Moreth through the window. She was sitting on a bench under the tree and reading a heavy book in a dark brown leather cover. Her black hair danced in the wind but she looked far from ethereal like other elven girls spending time around. There was some sort of darkness around your daughter which worried you deeply. The sadness and the quietness you had grown to – despite all the years that had passed, she had never smiled as brightly and happily as before her father’s mysterious disappearance and most likely death. She had never been cheerful, which was painful enough to you since you were her mother and you wanted nothing but happiness for her. But lately, something very worrying had been happening to her. As if the light that Elves were supposed to carry and shine bright with all through Middle-earth was fading away from her.

“Her skin…” You bit on your lower lip as you looked at Gil-galad who was standing by you. “She’s growing paler but in an unnatural way. Her skin doesn’t simply get lighter but… whiter,” you pointed out. “I don’t know what to do, I am desperate,” you admitted sadly.

“Her light is fading, (Y/N),” Gil-galad whispered and put his hand on your arm as if it brought you any comfort. A single tear escaped your eye and streamed down your cheek when you took one more look at your daughter even though he only said what you had known already.

“Is she dying?” You asked, not fully understanding the situation but it felt awfully wrong that all these things were happening to you. First, you lost a husband and now you were about to lose a daughter? What was the point of this suffering? “Is she somehow turning into a human?”

“No, not a human,” Gil-galad shook his head and walked away. “Worse,” he commented and you furrowed your brows but you had no idea what he meant. You did not want to know. “I suggest sending her to Valinor before it becomes too late,” he added.

“No!” You sniffled your tears back as you protested. “Please, no! I would not handle another loss… Ever since Adar’s death, I am her only family. I am her only protector. And I know it is not the time yet for her or me to leave Middle-earth,” you explained. “I cannot explain it but I know that our destiny here has not been fulfilled yet. I must do everything it takes to save Moreth,” you clenched your jaw with determination.

“I do not know how to help her and all my wise and experienced friends I have asked for help do not know either. The longer you wait, the more she fades away and after a certain point of this mysterious change, she will not be accepted in Valinor,” Gil-galad explained. “It is an honour to be sent there.”

“And a pain for me. I shall miss her. I already miss her father,” you walked away from him to look out of a different window and take a deep breath at the sight of the sea. “I shall go to Oropher in Mirkwood then,” you decided. “Perhaps they know how to help her there. It is my last resort,” you looked at Gil-galad.

“It is dangerous to travel so far away these days. The army of Orcs…” He started but you interrupted him.

“I do not care,” you snapped. “I am her mother. I shall do everything to help her. I am desperate,” you looked deep into his eyes with so much pain and hopelessness that he eventually gave up with a sigh.

“I really hope then that you will find all the answers that you seek there. And that both of you will come back safe and unharmed,” he approached you to squeeze your arm. 

“Thank you, High King,” you bowed your head at him.

Adar was an Elf much older than you but you spotted him watching you many times while you were with your friends in Mithlond. He was calm and quiet, smiling at you kindly but never bothering you. Respectfully, he waited for you to initiate the conversation first, which you did because he fascinated you. You admired his knowledge and how different he was from your friends – how mature. He was giving you flowers he had picked himself whenever you walked together and he always complimented you in a way that would make you blush.

When Elves loved each other and married, forever was always a promise. And for some it truly was like that but you were not one of the lucky ones. It was not long after the birth of your daughter when you lost your husband. Moreth was only a few years old when he disappeared and you began your desperate attempts to find him but you soon were informed by multiple sources that most likely your husband had been killed by Morgoth or one of his minions. There was nothing you could do – not even give him a funeral he deserved since there was no body. You grieved for long years and tried to raise your daughter as well as you could but apparently the burden of this grief and sadness had been affecting her more than you would like to admit it.

You still dreamt of him often – your husband. Of his kisses, of his promises of the life you would live one day. Far away from others; that had been his dream. And he had been often talking about achieving something more whatever that more had meant. An ambitious dreamer – that was how you remembered him. And despite the years that had gone already, not a day passed without you thinking of him dearly.

The thing he loved the most in life was being a father, though. Moreth was his whole world. He would sit her on his lap, tell her stories while braiding or simply brushing her hair. He would pick flowers for her or watch her play in the fields for hours, helping her to catch butterflies. You had never seen a man so mesmerised by his daughter and now this very daughter was sick and you had to do everything to help her. You owed him that.

You were nearby Khazad-dûm on the back of your horse with Moreth sitting behind you with her arms wrapped around your waist when you felt the horse getting nervous and anxious. You knew it was not a good sign but you did not want to turn around and seek refuge with the dwarves or in Eregion. 

“Keep going,” you whispered to the horse as you patted its neck but you were cautiously looking around, sensing the danger as well. “It reeks of something filthy,” you admitted.

“I do not feel anything,” Moreth shrugged her arms, which calmed you down a little but it also caused you to lower your guard down, which was a mistake. On the other hand, you would not be able to do anything anyway even if you had spotted them earlier – a small unit of Orcs jumping out on the road in front of you as they laughed.

The horse startled and shook you and Moreth out of its back before running away as fast as possible. You quickly grabbed your dagger even though you knew it was hopeless to fight a unit on your own with nothing but a small knife. They laughed contemptuously, showing off their awful teeth.

Squeezing the dagger in your hand, you hovered over your daughter, trying to shield her from the Orcs. She was shivering slightly and clutched to the fabric of your cloak.

“L-leave us alone, we mean no harm, just passing through,” you tried to reason with them even though you knew they were not creatures of high intelligence. If they were creatures of any intelligence at all.

“Have you heard her?” One of the Orcs mocked you. “The Elven ladies are just passing through…” He pointed his own dagger at you as you trembled at the sight of the blade, which was dirty from dried up blood.

“P-please… My daughter is sick,” you pleaded but he only tilted his head and brushed your reckless hair strand with the tip of his blade.

“Leave it,” one of his friends barked at him. “They’re Elves. Lord Father won’t be happy if we hurt them. He wants all captured Elves to be taken to him immediately.”

“Oh… Yes… Lord Father will have lots of fun with them,” the Orc standing in front of you grinned at you, which caused a shiver go down your spine. His words sounded ominous – you were terrified of an idea of some sort of leader of the Orcs who was respected and called Lord Father by them. You didn’t even want to think about what he looked like and what he would do to you or your daughter… And now you were a hostage, taken to him.

Perhaps Gil-galad had been right but now it was too late to admit such things. Full of fear and anxiety, you dropped the dagger you were holding, counting on a merciful treatment after giving your weapon up willingly.

You were inside a wooden cage with your daughter by your side. Your hands were in shackles behind your backs but Moreth was sitting as close to you as possible, weeping silently and clinging to you. You knew that she was blaming herself because if it wasn’t for her sickness, you would never be travelling on that road. You didn’t blame her, though. She had never asked for any of this. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, praying for the infamous Lord Father of the Orcs to be a creature of a higher intelligence than his children. That you could reason with him and maybe offer him something in return to let you and your daughter go to Mirkwood freely although you had no idea what to offer. Perhaps a conversation with him would reveal more of his nature, which would help you to come up with a good idea. You were desperate to heal your daughter or at least to try to do so. You would never send her to Valinor too early without knowing that you had done absolutely everything to prevent it.

“It stinks,” you winced after your cage entered the Orcs’ camp.

“I do not feel it, mother,” Moreth admitted and you looked down at her face with nothing but shock. How could she not smell that odour of the Orcs and all their filth?  

You were not given enough time to think about it, though. You heard the awful noises of the Orcs’ tongue and laughter. Through the wooden bars of your cage you spotted them staring at you and pointing their fingers with hatred and disgust as if it was them who had reasons to find you and your daughter hideous.

“We are being taken to their leader,” you whispered to Moreth. “Let me handle it, darling. Do not talk, do not do anything, please.”

“I promise, mother,” she nodded and sniffled back her tears. She was terrified and so were you but you were trying not to show it too much because there was no point of scaring her more and to appear weak in front of the Orcs’ leader.

“Lord Father,” you heard a raspy voice of one of the Orcs once the cage stopped in the middle of something that used to be a market square of one of the human villages before the Orcs’ invasion. “We have captured two Elven women near Khazad-dûm. “They thought we would let them go freely. Claimed to be just passing through and that one of them was sick.”

You waited for the answer but there was none. You could see the mysterious figure only through the bars of the cage and you were not able to spot any details about him. He had to nod his head at the Orcs, though, because the cage was opened shortly after. You and Moreth were dragged out and pushed, making you both hit the ground with your hands still in shackles behind your backs. Clumsily, trying to keep your dignity, you held your head straight while moving your body up to rest on your knees at least, feeling the mud and dirt sticking to your scratched cheek. Your hair was a mess and your eyes filled with hatred as the Orcs surrounding you laughed with contempt.

You laid your eyes on your daughter and how she moved up on her knees as well. Her long black hair – just like her father’s – was full of mud and her skin looked even more unhealthy under the dark and stormy skies. In fact, your heart clenched in your chest because in this light you could truly see how sick she truly was and how little time she had before her light fades away completely and she becomes… Becomes something you did not even want to think of. The reason behind this sickness was beyond your comprehension, though.

You squinted your eyes at the man walking up towards you. To your surprise, his figure was nothing like the Orcs around you. He was either human or… an Elf? You swore, you could see pointed ears and it confused you greatly. With one more step he walked out of the shadow and you finally could see him perfectly well, which caused a gasp to leave your mouth and your heart skipped a beat. Moreth yelped at the sight but you were too stunned to comfort her in any way.

The man walking towards you was your husband.

It was not the same Adar you remembered – he looked damaged and tortured. His skin was sickly white…, which dangerously reminded you of your daughter’s worrying condition. His skin was full of scars and there was a sinister darkness about him that turned your blood cold inside your veins.

He froze at the sight of you as well as the Orcs went silent, realising that something was not right about this encounter. Adar furrowed his brows and opened his mouth slightly as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Impossible…” He breathed out but you heard him very well. His voice made shivers go down your spine. It was changed, too but it was still his. The sound of it brought back all the memories of your marriage and the courting. Of all the walks you had been taking together, all the stories he had been telling you and all the flowers he had been putting inside your hair. All the giggles he had shared with your daughter and all the kisses he had stolen from you under the moonlight.

Adar crouched down in front of you and Moreth to be on the same level but he kept his safe distance. He tilted his head and continued to look confused.

“You died,” he said and it was a statement, not a question. “I saw it,” he added. “Sauron,” he explained, “he showed me your death. A bunch of humans attacking your carriage and leaving your dead bodies by the road to bleed out,” he whispered as his voice and eyes filled with pain. “The vision has been coming back to me in nightmares ever since.”

You had many questions.

Question number one – how did your husband know Sauron personally?

But that was not time to ask that. It was time to explain something that had to be an awful misunderstanding.

“It is true, we were attacked some time after your dea– …disappearance,” you fixed yourself, trying to look for the best words. You still could not believe that your husband was alive after all but you were not sure if alive was the right word to use because the creature in front of you did not look like the Elf you had married. “We were robbed by poor human villagers. They took my jewellery and let us go. I did not even remember about it until now, it holds no significance to me,” you admitted.

Long silence occurred. No Orc was brave enough to say anything, seeing that their leader was engaged in a conversation of this sort and he seemed to be as confused as they were.

“Free them,” Adar ordered and stood up, waiting for the Orc standing nearby to get rid of your shackles. Once your wrists were free, he moved to free Moreth and Adar approached you to offer you his hand to help you stand up.

You did not take his hand, though, as you stood up on your own with your jaw clenched and your eyes filled with anger and hatred when you looked him up and down.

“My children mentioned that one of you was sick,” Adar pointed out and took a better look at his daughter. He had not seen her grown up yet. “That must be you,” he walked up to Moreth and raised his hand to caress her cheek.

“Do not touch her!” You snapped but he did not listen and your daughter did not seem to mind either.

“Father…” Her eyes filled with tears and she sobbed. Adar gathered her tears with his fingertips and pressed his forehead to hers.

A sudden thought made you realise that perhaps the answers you were seeking were not in Mirkwood but here – with him.

“Do you know what sickness is tormenting her?” You approached them, interrupting the bittersweet reunion moment. “Moreth’s light is fading. I am desperate to save her.”

Adar turned around to look at you and your daughter kept staring at you as well. And when they stood like that – side by side – you realised that it was no mysterious sickness at all. She had just been turning into a creature like her father. You gasped and took a step back, nearly falling down after stumbling.

“It is you…” You shook your head as tears filled your eyes when you laid them on your husband. “You are the sickness. You are the poison in her veins.”

But after hearing your words, Moreth looked outraged and saddened as she hid behind Adar. Her reaction shocked you. You knew that she had been missing him for long years but it had been you who actually raised her. Your bond was so strong and now she was siding with him? You couldn’t understand anything about her behaviour.

“Let us talk inside,” Adar pointed at one of the houses in the village that he was living in now.

Moreth walked there and waved at you to hurry you up as the Orcs kept staring at her and you with curiosity mixed with a little bit of respect. They had to realise by now that you were related to their Lord Father.

“Do not rush your mother, my darling,” Adar approached your daughter and put his arm around her. “She shall join us when she is ready to,” he nodded at you and you watched them both disappear inside the house.

You were left alone in the middle of the market square with dozens of Orcs staring at you and tilting their heads. You were unarmed and deeply uncomfortable in their presence even though they were not attacking or bothering you. They were just staring. Still, you would rather follow your daughter and Adar inside the house. There were many questions to ask.

Walking slowly without revealing your nervousness, you approached the door of the house and pushed them open. You spotted Adar and Moreth sitting together on a bench with a bowl full of water on the table in front of them. He was washing the mud and dirt off of your daughter’s hair gently just like he had been brushing and braiding it back in the day. The sight made your eyes fill with fresh tears again.

“It did not take you long, mother,” Moreth smiled at you weakly.

You looked around the dark house and felt awkward, not knowing what to do with yourself. You watched Moreth and Adar for a while as he silently cleaned her hair and face. You remembered that yours were dirty, too, so you approached the bowl and grabbed the spare cloth lying nearby as if it had been put there for you.

Slowly, you dipped the cloth in the water and wiped your face first, hissing when it touched the scratch on your cheek. Then you began working on your hair, brushing it with your fingers and getting rid of the dried up mud.

“How do you know Sauron and why did he lie to you about our death?” You asked finally. Moreth froze at your uncomfortable questions but Adar did not even flinch as he continued to brush her hair.

“I was lured by the promise of power given to me by Morgoth,” Adar explained calmly, avoiding your gaze. “I desired to learn everything I could about this world. Both light and dark,” he admitted, his voice stoic and melancholic. “After Morgoth’s defeat, I wished to come back for you and Moreth but Sauron wanted me to be his lieutenant. I refused at first. You and Moreth were all I was thinking about so he revealed to me that you were dead and that he had been sparing me the pain of this truth before. After seeing his vision, which felt incredibly real, I had nothing to lose. He had to deceive me to make me more willing to follow him,” Adar finally looked up to meet your gaze and you saw how his eyes filled with so much pain that it made your heart clench inside your chest. “If only I knew…”

“You do not speak of him fondly,” you did not let him finish as you pointed out. “I thought that the Orcs followed Sauron.”

“Uruks,” he fixed you. “After losing my family… they became like children to me,” Adar revealed. “Sauron does not care about them. He sacrifices them and treats them with no respect. I killed him once and now I am going to kill him again,” he told you.

You snorted at that as you started realising the absurdity of the whole situation. You couldn’t believe that your husband – whom you had been admiring for intelligence and knowledge – had acted so stupidly and proudly. So… haughty. That one day he had decided to abandon you to learn some forbidden magic tricks. What had he been expecting exactly?

And that your husband – whom you had been missing every day for many long years and whom you grieved – had been alive all that time, causing evil and misery all over Middle-earth.

“So… When you were telling me that you craved for something more… That’s the more that you meant?” You looked around with contempt.

“Mother, do not be so harsh. Father has been in so much pain, can’t you see?” Moreth stood up for him. “Are you not glad he is alive after all? We were told that you had been killed by Morgoth,” she looked at her father and cupped his face as if she still could not believe that he was alive. And as if she did not mind his cruel change at all.

“In many ways… I was, my child,” Adar smiled sadly at her.

“Let us go,” you insisted as you threw the cloth down onto the table, not needing it anymore. Adar and Moreth looked up at you both and once again you felt sick in your stomach as your insides twisted at the sight of how similar they were becoming. “She is sick, can’t you see? Her light is fading. Soon she will not be welcomed in Valinor.”

“I am not sick, mother!” Moreth interrupted you before her father could answer. “I could not understand this change either. For years, I have been tormented and scared, trying to fight it. But now I see that I have never been sick. Oh, can’t you see? This is exactly where I was supposed to end up. Nothing happens without a reason and the fact we were captured today was a part of the plan, too. Weren’t you always saying there had been a reason for us to be here, in Middle-earth? That is my purpose. I am not sick. I am becoming myself. Like father,” she nodded and squeezed Adar’s hands. He was staring at her lovingly and you could imagine that, indeed, those words had to feel like honey being poured onto his rotten heart – or whatever was left of it.

But for you her words were hideous and terrifying. You were staring at her in pure shock and you felt both sad and betrayed.

“No, that is not your purpose. Your blood is poisoned because of your father but… But there is still hope for you, Moreth. You are my daughter, too,” you pleaded. “Let us go,” you looked at Adar again and this time the tone of your voice was harsher. “We are going to Mirkwood to search for the answers.”

“There are no answers in Mirkwood,” your husband chuckled at that and caressed your daughter’s wrists with his thumbs as she kept squeezing his hands. “We might continue calling it a sickness if you wish, my love,” he nodded at you and you winced at the way he called you but at the same time it felt so… oddly good. However, you shook the feeling off. Your daughter and her health were more important than your heart’s conflicting desires. “The only person who can stop the sickness is Moreth herself. She would have to want to stop it and to truly fight it. She would have to seek the light instead of darkness. And those past years she has been chasing the corruption, haven’t you, my darling?” He asked Moreth and she looked down as your eyes widened.

“Moreth?” You asked her.

“It was stronger than me, mother. I have been studying things I should not have. I have blamed it on the sickness you were talking about. You were blaming my grief and sadness but it was not true. I took it for the symptom but it was the reason itself. I remembered that my father loved to learn and I tried to justify my hunger for the forbidden knowledge with the fact that I was his daughter. And I am his daughter indeed. Twisted, is it not, mother?” She looked up at you again, scared of your reaction. With each of her confessions, you felt your heart breaking into more and more pieces. Your whole world was crumbling down. Not only your husband but also your daughter were corrupted with great evil. “I still love you. I forever shall love you, mother. But do you still love me?”

“I forever shall love you,” you mirrored her words and felt tears stream down your cheeks. “It is too late for you,” you looked at Adar. “But not for her. Let her go. Help me,” you begged.

“You are right, (Y/N). It is too late for me and I do wish for my daughter to remain by my side if that is her wish,” Adar smirked, making you realise that you were not on the same page with this.

“Moreth?!” You took a step ahead but your husband stood up and shielded your daughter from you. That gesture hurt you deeply because you were the last person in the whole world who would ever want to put her in any form of danger. You furrowed your brows at him. “Is that what you want?” You kept asking your daughter although your eyes were fixed on her father as you were staring at him with hatred mixed with pain. It was a pure torture to see your beloved husband turning into a monster. All that grief and sadness after his death – they had been a useless waste of feelings after all. “Is that what you want?” You repeated your question. “To be an Orc Princess?” You asked with contempt through the gritted teeth.

“Uruk,” Adar fixed you again. You spotted anger in his eyes but he was very calm towards you and you realised he still had to have very strong feelings for you because even now, seeing what he had become, you felt no fear around him. As if you were sure that he would never hurt you. “You are free to go,” he added with a nod. “Tomorrow morning. You should rest now. I shall give you a horse and you can leave if you do not wish to stay,” he explained and walked away, finally allowing you to look at your daughter.

Your heart broke and your eyes filled with even more tears at the sight of your daughter. Now, seeing her face clearly, you could see that her decision had been truly made already. Her eyes – your eyes – were filled with tears that meant only one thing. She was preparing to say goodbye.

“Why can’t you stay, mother? We could be a family again,” Moreth pleaded.

“How can you expect me to stay? How can you even ask me?” You shook your head. “And how can you want to stay? Don’t you understand that you are robbing yourself of seeing all of your friends ever again? You are robbing yourself of the light of Valinor. You are robbing yourself of the beauty of Eregion, of the greatness of Mithlond… In the name of what?”

“Freedom,” Moreth answered in all seriousness. “Being a carrier of the light is an honourable task but the light is often a burden, too. I want to be free of the shackles – no matter how virtuous they are.”

“Then I have lost you,” you turned around and covered your lips with your hand to muffle your sob.

“Moreth, there is a room upstairs on the right,” Adar told her. “It is inhabited and it is yours for the night. Go there and rest. You have had a long day,” he nodded at her.

“Father,” she stood up and bowed her head at him. Then she looked at you and hesitated. “Mother…” She bowed her head, too. Waiting for you to say something but not receiving any reaction from you, she turned around and walked away to go upstairs.

You were left alone with Adar now and despite the fact he was your husband whom you still loved no matter what – it was hard to stop loving somebody so quickly, after all – you felt nothing but anger towards him now. He had stolen your daughter from you. His darkness had poisoned her and now you lost her.

“She is everything to me,” you swallowed a lump in your throat. You kept staring at the wall in front of you and you didn’t even flinch when he put his hand on your arm. It felt so odd to feel his touch again that it sent a shiver down your body.

“She is everything to me, too. So are you,” he whispered, standing right behind you. You could feel his breath on your neck. “Stay with us, (Y/N),” he pleaded in a broken whisper.

You stood like that in silence for a long while as your lower lip kept trembling and you were overthinking his proposition. Everything you cared for was here but you could not picture yourself taking part in this cruelty and destruction. On your way here, through the wooden bars of your cage, you could see what the Orcs and Adar had done to this land. You did not want to be a Queen of the ruins, ruling over the ashes in the name of the ungraspable idea of power.

You turned around very slowly, facing your husband. To see his face so damaged and full of scars made your heart weep. Carefully, you raised your hand to touch his cheek and to caress it as he watched your every movement with a hint of curiosity and affection.

“Why have you chosen me all those years ago? You told me you had spotted me but I have never understood why,” you whispered sadly, remembering the day when you first realised he had been watching you lovingly from afar.

“I have waited a long time to meet a woman like you. And I knew ever since I was very young that I would only marry if I met her,” Adar explained.

“And what do you mean by that? What was so special about me?” You swallowed thickly, scared of the answer.

“You know very well that Moreth’s darkness does not come only from me,” he smirked and held your wrist gently, intertwining your fingers together. You looked away nervously. “You are curious about what your life here would be like. I know your heart enough to know that you are thinking of it way too much than you should be,” he smiled but there was no contempt about it, just pure affection. You dared to meet his gaze and you nearly gasped when you saw how much he still loved you.

You even allowed him to kiss you. When Adar joined your lips together, you did not move away and you did not flinch. In fact, it felt so natural that you closed your eyes and did not even attempt to resist him in any way. You gave in, putting your hands flat on his chest.

And for that moment of the kiss, you could see it – you could see it all. You could see yourself walking next to him through the war camps like this one with Moreth following you. Both of you were wearing black dresses, your skins were sickly paler, your eyes were hollow and terrifying. You could hear yourself speaking in the tongue of the Orcs and you could see them bowing down at your sight. You could see the comfort in the darkness and your home being wherever your husband and daughter were.

But your visions were being fought with the faces of your friends and the beautiful cities of your kin. The images of Valinor were like sun rays penetrating your dark fantasies and making them fade away. And when the last little part of the ominous daydream disappeared, you broke the kiss. Both you and Adar looked at each other and he smiled sadly as his eyes filled with pain because he already knew what your decision was.

“I cannot stay,” you whispered.

He nodded without a word as he took a step back and walked away, leaving you all alone in the room.

You spent the night on the bench in the room downstairs and in the morning Adar kept his promise as he presented you with a horse after breakfast. During the meal you all were silent and you spotted that after that night your daughter looked even more sickly than usual as if her sickness had progressed very quickly all of a sudden. You tried not to comment and she tried not to beg with her words for you to stay but she kept asking for it with her eyes. For that reason, you tried to avoid her gaze.

The horse Adar had presented you with was black and it had a mark burnt on its side that you quickly learnt all the humans serving your husband had burnt on them as well. Moreth was standing behind her father when they walked you to the stables and watched you caress the horse’s neck.

You could not help the feeling that your life had no meaning outside this camp because you had no one to live for anymore if your daughter was supposed to stay here. Yet, remaining by your husband’s side felt too wrong.

And so did trying to force Moreth to change her mind. She was your daughter but she was her own person and old enough to make decisions for herself – no matter how much they hurt you.

Two Orcs walked inside the stables to join you and they awaited Adar’s orders. He pointed at you and smiled at them.

“Walk my wife out of the camp and make sure she is not bothered. Allow her to ride away in any direction she wishes to and remember her face because she is under our protection wherever you might see her again,” he ordered and you were quite surprised to hear those words. You knew he still loved you but you did not expect him to grant you such protection despite your decision to leave him.

“Yes, Lord Father,” the Orcs nodded and walked out of the stables.

One last time, you looked sadly at your daughter but you did not even hug her and she did not approach you either. After that, with a heavy heart, you followed the Orcs outside and allowed them to lead you out of the camp. They kept looking back all the time to make sure you were still walking behind them and they were nervously staring you up and down, which was quite annoying.

You finally reached the gate of the camp and they nodded at the other Orcs to open it for you. You were about to hop on your horse when you saw that the Orcs bowed in front of you.

“Farewell, Lady Mother,” one of them said.

“Do not call me that!” You snapped angrily and – filled with disgust – you mounted your horse and rode away as fast as possible although you had no idea what direction you should take.

Technically, you should hurry to Mithlond and inform Gil-galad about everything that had happened but you did not want to cause your daughter any problems. Conflicted, you hit the road ahead of you, not entirely sure where it was leading and allowing it to decide your fate.

Far behind you, Moreth was staring at your silhouette disappearing over the horizon while she stood by her father’s side. He was looking in the same direction as her but when she finally laid her eyes on him, she realised he was way calmer than her and there was even a shadow of a smile on his lips even though her own eyes were filled with tears.

“Are you not sad that she has left us?” Moreth asked.

“Do not weep, my child,” Adar wrapped his arm around his daughter and squeezed her arm comfortingly. “Your mother will come back to us sooner than you expect.”

MASTERLIST

[starsreminisce]

Happy Elain Day!

for @elainweekofficial

Word Count: 3K

It was a small shop in the town square, one Elain had passed frequently since she began preparing for her wedding. Its unassuming facade lent it an air of mystery, unlike the neighboring shops, whose glittering displays beckoned to window shoppers. Wedding planning had become exhausting, made worse by the constant clashes between Graysen and Nesta over the dress, the food, the location. But Elain saw through her sister's action. She knew exactly why Nesta was being so difficult: she wanted Graysen to reconsider marrying into their family so he would break it off, sparing them the shame or delay until their father could give the proper blessing.

Elain had never cared for a grand wedding even as a child, so when she suggested they elope, Graysen launched into a lecture.

“Now, Elain,” he began, his tone bordering on condescending. “I am a lord's son. We can't elope like peasants, especially given our status in society. People might think you're with child.”

Elain glanced up at the clock tower in the town square. She still had half an hour before her appointment, but the thought of Graysen and Nesta bickering over the flower arrangements, something she wished she could at least have a say in, made her stomach churn.

The black brick of the shop and its tinted windows beneath a purple awning seemed to call to her today more so than the other days. It would only be thirty minutes, she reasoned. Even if she were to get lost in the place, she doubted her fiance or sister would notice if she was late to the florist, considering how little they’ve considered her opinions with everything else. Besides, what if the shop was actually empty? She had never seen anyone enter or leave.

Taking a deep breath, she marched toward the door. Her hand rested on the handle, and to her surprise, it opened.

A small bell chimed as she peeked inside. The shop had no displays, nothing to sell. The only decor was a single table with two comfortable-looking chairs set across from each other. The scent of burning sage lingered in the air, and tapestries of the beginning of Prythian adorned the walls.

She should have left. Instead, she stepped fully inside, her eyes drawn to the strange story the tapestries told. One in particular was a woman with outstretched hands holding a sphere that captivated Elain. Gooseflesh prickled her skin as she realized she was inside of a shop belonging to a Fae sympathizer.

Graysen and Nesta's voices echoed in her mind, berating her for her fae sympathies, even though their sister Feyre had left the family to live with a Fae lover. Even though their father had always reminded them that they all shared this land.

“Hello, dearie,” a croaking voice stopped her from leaving.

Elain spun around to see a weathered woman. Long, graying hair cascaded past her shoulders. She wore a deep blue dress, and a silver circlet with a pale blue stone rested between her brows. Her eyes were sharp as she looked at Elain with interest.

“I was just leaving,” Elain murmured, avoiding eye contact.

“Have you been having doubts about your upcoming marriage?”

Elain’s gaze dropped to her left hand, where her pearl-and-diamond ring sat. She curled her fingers into a fist, as if she could hide it. She wasn’t sure if the crone had seen it before she asked.

“I'm sure it's just normal wedding jitters,” Elain managed, inching toward the door. “Thank you for your time.”

“Then would you want to know about the man in your dreams?”

That gave Elain pause, her heart pounding at the words. She had never told anyone about him. The mystery man had appeared in her dreams only a few days after Feyre left. His face was always hidden behind a fox mask, and each dream left her more unsettled than the last.

In the first, she saw him being flogged. His back was torn open, but his face stayed calm, refusing to show any pain.

In the second, he was drugged, dragged, and chained beneath a bed of spikes, yet he remained still, as if resigned to his fate.

The third dream was filled with violence. Nightmarish creatures attacked him, but with unnatural speed, he fought them off, cutting through them effortlessly even after he fell off his horse.

But the last dream was the most haunting. She had watched him stand before the same golden beast that had taken Feyre from them.

Elain swallowed hard and faced the crone. “Can you stop the nightmares?”

The woman gave a small, sad smile. “No, I cannot.”

“What exactly do you sell?”

“I read fortunes,” the crone said softly. “If the Mother deigns to show you who the man is, you will see.”

Elain’s curiosity gnawed at her. Her head urged her to leave, to let it go, reasoning that if it were important, the answers would come in time. But her heart… her heart needed to know. She needed to know who he was, why his presence in her nightmares lingered long after she woke, as if his pain was somehow hers to bear.

“How much?” she asked, her better judgment faltering.

“Whatever you can offer.”

Elain hesitated, her mind bouncing from one thought to another, until she felt a tug low beneath her ribcage. Fortune readings were becoming popular among her friends, she reasoned. Surely, there was nothing dangerous about it. She found herself nodding and followed the crone to a small table. Taking a seat, she placed a gold mark on the table, which the crone pocketed without a word.

The old woman lit a stick of palo santo, swirling the fragrant smoke through the air, around the deck and the tight space, before resting it in a ceramic holder. Elain watched as the crone shuffled her cards. The rhythm of it was hypnotic, and time seemed to blur, until finally, the crone paused. Her brows knit together, and she tilted her head, as if listening to a voice only she could hear, before drawing the cards.

Three cards: Four of Wands reversed, Tower, Death.

“Not good,” the crone said, her eyes narrowing. “The foundation is shaky. Something will come to destroy its foundation, causing you to be reborn.”

Elain immediately thought this woman was a scam artist, waiting to peddle crystals and old bath water to salvage her engagement. She could almost see the words forming on the crone’s lips, ready to spill out like a rehearsed script.

She was ready to leave until the crone pulled three more cards: Ace of Cups, Knight of Swords, The Sun.

“There is someone new coming,” the crone continued. “He will come like a knight in shining armor, one who reminds you of the sun.”

Elain tried not to scoff. Despite his shortcomings, she loved Graysen with all her heart, and the idea of someone new coming to sweep her off her feet sounded highly unlikely.

“Is it the man from my dreams?” she asked, curious by the crone’s certainty.

Nine of Swords, Page of Cups, Seven of Cups.

“Yes,” she affirmed. “You’re having nightmares about this young man because your fates and souls are intertwined, but the path ahead is unclear. There are many choices, many possibilities. Some real, some illusion. You’re struggling to see the truth through the confusion.”

“Can you tell me more about him?” she pressed.

King of Wands, Seven of Wands, Nine of Wands reversed.

“He is a fiery male,” the crone said. “Meant to be a ruler, but it seems he has been treated as an underdog so much that he tries to avoid conflict and is exhausted from doing so.”

Elain clicked her tongue in disbelief. This man sounded like the farthest thing from what she wanted in a lifelong partner. She preferred men who were decisive, calm, and steady—like Graysen, who seemed the very picture of what she was looking for. But fiery? Avoids conflict? That didn’t sit right with her. None of it aligned with the traits she valued.

The crone pulled three more cards: Strength, Three of Swords, Two of Swords reversed.

“Be careful not to be so stubborn,” she tapped on the Strength card with a long, bony finger. “Your heart will hurt, and it will make you feel closed off. If you're not careful, you’ll do something that you’ll come to regret.”

Elain said nothing as the crone pulled three more: Three of Cups reversed, Eight of Swords reversed, Ten of Swords reversed.

“You will get the wandering eye. It’s due to no fault of your own, but your actions will be your undoing.”

Eight of Cups, Wheel of Fortune, Nine of Cups.

“Things will change for the better,” the crone reassured her. “Only when you decide to leave for good will your wish come true.”

“And what might that be?” Elain asked, chewing her lip.

Two of Cups, Hierophant, Ten of Cups.

“An equal love in marriage to bring you the home you longed for,” the crone concluded.

Elain waited for the crone to sell her something to assure her of this future, but she merely nodded her head, her eyes losing their sharpness as if the reading had drained her. Elain still didn’t believe a word of it but nonetheless offered two more gold marks for a tip before leaving to join her sister and fiance at the florist, arriving right on time as they argued over Baby’s Breath.

The reading stayed with her until Graysen noticed her being distracted. She winced and said the wedding planning was stressful, which then he agreed. She laid with Graysen that night. A futile action as though to cement that if she gave him everything, she would always his.

She had forgotten about the reading when Feyre came back, now changed into a fae, seeking to use their home to broker an agreement with the Queens.

Feyre told her story, but her arched ears were more of interest to Elain, until the name Lucien sparked something deep in the recesses of Elain's mind. She didn’t know why this name was so important to her, why she gravitated towards it as though it were a string being pulled towards her. She listened to Nesta and Feyre argue back and forth, her engagement ring mocking her to tempt fate, until she finally said, “If … if we do not help Feyre, there won’t be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan’s battlements and all his men couldn’t save me from … from them.”

Mere days after being told the Queens refused to help, a cowled priestess stumbled in, pale as death, her wide eyes darting frantically. “Feyre,” she gasped, trembling. “Captured. Tortured.” Her voice faltered as Elain and Nesta rushed to steady her, but the terror clung to her words like a curse. Before either sister could react, the priestess added, her voice breaking, “Come with me quick.”

“No,” said Nesta.

Elain whimpered as rough hands shoved a gag into her mouth, her tears streaming silently as she was yanked into the shadows. Her captors paid no attention to her shaking or the weak struggles of her body, her kicks and blows finding only empty air.

Her quiet sobs soaked her gag as they dragged her toward the Cauldron. Her feet scraped against the cold stone floor, her fingers clawing desperately for something—anything—to hold on to. But there was nothing. Somewhere through the chaos, a male voice shouted a command to stop. That it was enough. But it didn’t matter. The icy black water loomed before her, and then—then it swallowed her whole.

Cold. All-consuming cold ripped through her body, and her soul felt as though it was being shredded, torn apart like delicate lace. Elain thrashed, but the water had her, seeping into her lungs, her bones, her very thoughts. This is death, she realized in a strange, detached way. Her body was breaking, dissolving, as if she was being unmade, piece by piece.

So this is what dying feels like.

She hit the ground hard facedown, sucking in air as water streamed from her, a gasp of air filling her chest with burning life. Her soaked nightgown clinging to her skin as she rose from the ground onto her elbows. Yet all she could focus on was her shame, as ridiculous and misplaced as it was, as she shivered on the wet stones, her legs and breasts on display.

Her mind held one absurd thought: I am dead, and all I care about is how indecent I must look.

He will come like a knight in shining armor that reminds you of the sun.

A light flared. Too bright. It pierced through her dazed vision, and she squinted. Worn Boots thudded toward her and before she could react, a warm jacket was draped over her trembling shoulders. Elain flinched, instinct curling her further into herself, expecting more violence, more violation. But the jacket … the jacket smelled of chestnuts and something warm—something almost like hope.

He is a fiery male.

Strong arms lifted her as Nesta poured out of the cauldron. Firm, but gentle. She was weightless in them, and for a moment, she let herself surrender to the feeling, the water still streaming from her like the last remnants of a terrible nightmare. He was so warm, so comforting, even in the midst of the chaos. He grounded her. She believed she was safe until her sister tore her away from her knight. She needed to know his name, staring as she waited.

He never offered it.

She could feel instincts running through her: Mine. I am yours. You are mine…

“…mate,” his whisper broke through the chanting.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

All she could do at that moment was to stare at him until another flash of blinding white light came, reminding her of him, even if it came from Feyre. Elain clutched the jacket, inhaling its scent, wishing he were holding her instead until a blonde fae slammed her mate away, and she was gone.

As soon as Elain materialized into the large house perched atop the mountain, she clutched to the jacket draped on her shoulders. The air was thick with silence, but she broke it with a scream, the sound ricocheting through the red halls.

“Take me home!” she cried again and again, each plea more ragged than the last, until her words became nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Exhaustion claimed her, her body collapsing into a heavy slumber, as though the weight of her cries had stolen every ounce of strength she had left.

The iron ring on her finger felt heavier, a cold reminder of a debt she owed. Beneath her rib, the golden string—delicate and shimmering—tugged gently, a promise, a tether she couldn’t name but always felt. She drifted somewhere between the worlds of waking and dreaming.

Faces blurred and shifted—her mate, her betrothed—figures flickering like shadows at the edge of her consciousness. She was pulled between what she was owed and what she was promised.

Again, she opened the windows, trying to let more sunlight in. But no matter how much light flooded the room, it couldn’t pierce the murkiness clouding her mind. She glimpsed a male figure bathed in sunlight, and then a woman—transformed into a fiery bird—screeching in anger. Loud. Everything was loud. The earth groaned beneath her, shifting and unstable.

The light she let in did nothing to clear her visions. The shadows remained.

Finally, she heard Feyre’s voice.

“I want to go home,” Elain murmured, her voice softer now, as though she were speaking to herself. Then, in the stillness, she heard it—a heartbeat. Deep, rhythmic, intimate. It thudded inside her chest, yet it was not her own. She knew without knowing that this heartbeat was home.

The golden string shimmered before her eyes, pulsing like a beacon. She rose from her bed, drawn by its soft glow, her feet moving before her mind could catch up. It led her through the quiet corridors, past the cold stone walls, past Nesta’s fussing voice, until she found herself in front of a window. She sat. She waited. The heartbeat grew louder, more insistent. Was he speaking to her? Was this real? She couldn't tell if she was still dreaming, lost in that liminal space between sleep and waking. She didn’t respond, and didn't dare to break the spell.

The sunlight hit his eye—golden, strange, glowing.

He will come like a knight in shining armor that reminds you of the sun.

She turned slowly.

His presence filled the room, familiar and yet foreign. His gaze held hers, unwavering, as though he had been waiting for her to see him fully.

He didn’t have dark hair. He didn’t exude the quiet, mysterious confidence she thought she’d been searching for.

But he was him—the most beautiful man, no, the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

And in that moment, she knew. Knew it as surely as if it were a memory she had long forgotten, buried deep beneath years of doubt and hesitation. She was his, as he was hers.

“Who are you?”

“I am Lucien,” he said, his voice steady. “Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

The name crashed into her like a wave, sweeping away the fog that had clouded her mind. She blinked, the murkiness around her vision dissolving as everything clicked into place. His name, the golden string, the heartbeat—it all made sense now. It was as though the sunlight that she would flood her bedroom for days had finally broken through into her very being, illuminating the truth buried deep within her soul.

“Lucien,” she whispered, tasting the name on her tongue. “From my sister’s stories. Her friend.”

If she had remembered the rest of the crone’s reading, it might have saved her—saved her from the ache that had lived inside her chest for so long, from the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at the edges of her heart, from the waiting, the endless waiting, for happiness she thought would never come.

But then again, Elain had never been one to believe in premonitions. She had never tempted fate—until the one time she did. And that had led her here, to him, to her mate.

The Mother, in her twisted sense of humor, had given her the same gift.

[chukys-mouthguard]

total knockout -ax72

Current Mood: an NHL moodboard series

-> arber xhekaj- boxer au!

-> genre - angst/fluff/suggested smut

A week before the bout…

Any time Arber had a big fight on the schedule, it meant well over a month of training. The diet, the workouts, all of it had such an impact on not only him but you. Being the girlfriend of someone who literally punches people in the face for a living wasn’t always bright lights and heavyweight belts.

Majority of the time, you were going through it right alongside Arber. Sticking by his side despite times like right now when he wasn’t the sweetest or easiest to be around.

“Babe, please. I’m just trying to help.”

You let out a sigh as Arber groaned, tossing the bandage onto the bathroom counter as he retreated to your bedroom. He’d tweaked his shoulder in his training session and his coach was urging him to wrap it every night to help the healing process. Which meant you got to play doctor for the next week or so until he was feeling better. But, shockingly, you weren’t a doctor and your skills were lacking.

“It’s fine! I’ll just sleep without it tonight.”

His tone was harsh and laced with exhaustion, letting you know this wasn’t something you should take to heart. Though you normally didn’t, letting his comments or harsh tone roll off your back.

“Arber, you know what your coach said. Now come on, I’ll take my time and make sure I get it right this time.”

He smiled softly at you before stealing a kiss, taking your hand in his as he led you back into the bathroom for attempt number twelve at wrapping his shoulder for the night.

The night of the bout…

You’d only had a brief moment with Arber before you had to head to your seat. His mind focused on the task at hand as you watched him get his knuckles taped up and wrapped by his coach. Though he didn’t speak to you much, you knew how much he appreciated having you with him in these moments.

The way his eyes would occasionally meet yours, a wink would follow before he’d focus back on his coach. Once he’d gotten his pep talk he made his way over to where you’d found a spot in the back of the locker room. Keeping out of the way as you hated feeling like a burden or an annoyance.

“Hey baby.”

Your smile was soft, trying your best to not show your nerves, though Arber saw right through you. And the nerves never got any better, quite the opposite actually. The more and more he’d fight the more worried you became of injuries and the long term effects he’d face from this sport. But this was his passion, and despite your fears, Arber was quite good and could handle his own.

“Hi, you ready?”

Arber nodded as he stole a kiss from you, his taped up hands resting at your hips as he took advantage of the short moment he’d have with you before he’d have to bid you farewell.

“To go bash a guys face in? Hell yeah I am!”

He laughed as you rolled your eyes, his jokes one of the few things that could lighten the mood in situations like this.

“As long as it’s his face and not yours. Good out there and kick some ass. I love you.”

The morning after the bout…

Rolling over in bed, your eyes fluttered open at sunlight peeking through the blinds. A soft sigh leaving your lips as you draped an arm over Arber’s chest. Looking up at his sleeping figure you took in his battle scars earned from the night before.

Victory didn’t come easy for him; a cut over his eyebrow still bandaged up, bruises scattered over his face, with a black eye to finish off the damage. Your fingers traced over his features, careful not to press too hard and wake him, hating what this sport did to him. But seeing him hoist the championship belt the night before, the pure excitement and proof that his hard work paid off, made it a little easier to swallow having to see him so battered and bruised.

“Mmm”

Arber softly groaned at the feeling of your touch, leaning his cheek into your hand as you felt one of his reach out for you. His palm resting on your thigh as his eyes softly opened to look up at you.

“Hey baby, good morning. How’s the damage?”

A chuckle left your lips as you scanned his face, the cut above his eyes being the only thing that needed any attention.

“Not the worst, but definitely still not the best.”

Getting up you quickly went to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit and some peroxide to clean his brow. Arber sat up and leaned against the headboard, assuming the position that had become a familiar routine the morning after fights.

As you returned from the bathroom you couldn’t help but notice the blanket now gathered at his waist. His chiseled chest and arms exposed as he patiently waited for you to play doctor and fix him up.

“Does it hurt?”

You asked the same question you always did, carful to remove the bandage and clean the cut on his face. Arber slightly laughing, as his answer never changed when you asked him the question. But he appreciated you worrying about him.

“Babe, I’m a big strong boy, I can handle it don’t worry.”

He flexed his biceps at you as he spoke, partially showing them off because he knew how much his muscles got you going. And he wasn’t wrong, your eyes trying to focus on cleaning his wounds versus staring at his arms that were calling out for your attention.

“If you’re trying to start something, it’s not happening. You’re all bruised up, don’t want to make any of that worse for you babe.”

You pecked his lips before wrapping up with tending to his wounds, moving to take the items back to the bathroom. But the feeling of Arber snaking an arm around your waist let you know he had other ideas.

You’d dropped the first aid kit items on the bedside table as Aber pulled you back into bed. Positioning you below him as he rested his arms on either side of your head, staring down at you with a smirk.

“Baby, I told you I’m a big strong boy. And you won’t do anything to make this worse, in fact-“

His lips found their place against your neck as he slowly trailed kisses across your skin, leaving a few quick bites in the process.

“I think all the things you want to do to me right now would make me feel so much better.”

[shellbilee]

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 9

A Glen Powell RPF Series

Warning: Smutttt, cursing

Glen

Glen looks down at his watch as he walks out of the gym, tilting his wrist to shield it from the glare of the Friday afternoon sun. 3.30pm. 

He pulls out his phone to text Billie knowing she finishes early on Fridays, opening his texts and looking down at their last message. She’d replied to the message he'd sent at lunchtime asking how her day was going.

He smiles as he looks down at her words, picturing her face as he reads. He's been unable to stop thinking about her since he'd left her place yesterday, certain he was becoming totally infatuated by everything that was Billie.

He goes to type a text message but then quickly deletes it, deciding to facetime her instead. He jumps into his car as his phone starts to ring out, glancing at his sweaty, post-gym reflection in the review mirror just as Billie's face appears smiling on the screen.

“Hey handsome”

Glen can't help the way he grins back at her then. She’s so fucking beautiful, her long hair pulled back into a high pony tail that's snaking down her shoulder, a pair of trendy, clear framed glasses perched on her nose. Almost instantly he feels his insides stirring in that most delectable way - he didn’t know he had a thing for girls with glasses until just now. 

Fuck.

“Hey darlin’. What you doing?”

“Just finishing up some paperwork and then I’m out of here. You?”

“Just finished the gym and thinking about you”

Billie grins teasingly, her eyes bright behind her glasses. “Oh yeah? Thinking about me and anything specific?”

Glen grins back, taking the bait. “Well originally I was just thinkin’ about how I wanted to see you again. But seeing you in glasses, now I’m thinkin’ about a whole lot of other things”

Billie laughs gorgeously, her smile taking up her whole face in that way that Glen finds insanely attractive.

“You’re bad Glen”

He winks mischievously. “I’m just gettin’ started Billie”.

They both laugh, grinning back at one another through the screen.

“Anyway” he says, taking his hat off and reaching up to run his hands through his gym-sweaty hair, “The actual reason I called was to see what you were doing tonight?”

Billie tilts her head and leans back in her chair. “Can’t say I really had any plans tonight, was just going to head home and take Nugget for a walk and then have a quiet night in with Netflix”

“Oh yeah? Any chance you want some company with your Netflix? What do the kids say, Netflix and chill?”

Billie laughs again, this time louder. “I'm not sure you’re up with the kid's lingo these days old man, Netflix and chill doesn’t mean what you think it means”

Glen laughs, shooting her a mildly offended face. “First of all, I’m not old. Second of all, I’m well aware of what Netflix and chill means. And I mean it in that sense and the literal sense” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Billie shakes her head and chuckles. 

“Well then, since you’re offering both, yes, I’d love some company” she replies, winking back gorgeously and making Glen feel all kinds of things, “I’m leaving here in five, so feel free to meet me at home? Usually it takes me about twenty minutes or so to get home”.

Glen nods. “I’ll head home, have a shower n’ grab Brisket, then we’ll come over?”

Billie tilts her head as if she's thinking for a moment, her lips stretching into a sly smile. “You know, I am very ok with you showering at mine if you’d like” she adds flirtatiously, Glen raising an eyebrow as he looks back at the screen.

“Oh yeah? I’m very okay with that too, but only if you’re joinin’ me”

Billie bites her lip teasingly and grins. “I think that can be arranged”

Glen flashes her his best grin.

“See you soon, peach”.

---

Glen hears Nugget barking before he’s even at the door, Brisket instantly bouncing excitedly at the sound of his friend behind the front door. Glen lifts his hand to knock but is beaten by the sound of Billie’s voice from somewhere inside telling him the door is open, wrangling Brisket on the lead as he walks them both inside.

Nugget is all over Brisket the moment they step inside, Glen unable to help his smile at the two boys sniffing furiously and wagging their tails happily. He bends to unclip Brisket and watches when they immediately sprint off into the house, pausing to look at his reflection in the hallway mirror and quickly readjusting his hat.

He lets out a breath and makes his way down the hallway, stepping into the living room to find Billie standing with her hands on her hips in front of a huge, half opened box. It takes him a second to realise that it’s her new couch that’s been delivered, too distracted by how damn gorgeous she looks standing there in her work uniform. His eyes run over her fitted black polo shirt and tight black bike shorts that show off her perfect ass, and for a moment he can’t help but wonder how any of her clients possibly focus when she’s treating them.

“Hey you” Billie says turning to face him, her smile growing bigger when Glen steps towards her and wraps his arm around her waist.

“Hey gorgeous” he replies with his own grin, pulling her into him and kissing her deeply. 

She’s still wearing her glasses from before, her beautiful hazel eyes looking even more so behind the lenses. 

“How was your day?”

Billie shrugs, smiling adorably. “Really busy actually! But definitely better when I came home to the Ikea truck pulling into my driveway”.

Glen nods, looking over at the box that’s taking up the majority of the living room. “I'm surprised it got delivered so quickly”

“Me too” Billie replies, looking back up at Glen from behind her glasses, “And I guess it's good timing that you came over tonight”.

“To help you set it up?”

Billie looks up and around as if she’s thinking for a second, shrugging her shoulders innocently when she looks back at Glen. “Well that, and also, because I'll need to christen the couch, obviously”

Glen can’t help his laugh, grabbing her waist again and this time dipping her before he kisses her.

“And you say I’m bad”

Billie grins wickedly, reaching up to cup his jaw. “What can I say, you're rubbing off on me”

“Oh yeah? Anything else of yours need rubbing?”

Billie immediately snorts and throws her head back in laughter, Glen instantly deciding that her laugh is his new favourite sound and he’d listen to it all day if he could.

“Wow Glen, that was terrible”

“But it made you laugh though” he replies matter-of-factly and flashing his best smile, bending to kiss Billie again. Her mouth tastes like mint chewing gum and he just can’t get enough.

“You know, if you keep distracting me like this, we’ll never get this couch put together” Billie comments when they part, resting her hands on his chest and looking up at him.

Glen shoots her a mildly offended look. 

“Me distracting you? Darlin’, I don’t know if you’ve looked in the mirror today but I am most definitely not the one being distracting. Look at you” he remarks, stepping back for a moment and gesturing to her in front of him.

Billie shakes her head in confused amusement, looking down at her outfit and back up at Glen again. “In my work uniform?”

“Yes, your work uniform. Your fuckin’ ass Billie, my God it’s just perfect. It’s round and peachy and just--- fuck” he explains, his voice almost pained, stepping back towards her and snaking his hands down until he’s cupping her ass, squeezing her cheeks for emphasis, “It’s perfect. Seriously, how do your clients not just stare at you all day?”

Billie rolls her eyes and laughs, “I work with high school and college athletes, Glen”

Glen nods his head enthusiastically in response. “Exactly my point. God, I’d be fakin’ all kinds of injuries if it meant I got to look at this” he adds, squeezing her cheeks again and making Billie giggle.

“I’m pretty sure they’re all aware that I’m at least ten years older than most of them”

Glen shakes his head definitively. “And you think that matters?”.

Billie pulls a face and Glen can’t help but laugh. 

“Trust me darlin’, I was once a college aged boy. A perfect ass is a perfect ass”.

Billie chuckles.

“So am I correct in assuming by those words that you’re an ass man then?”

This time it’s Glen’s turn to chuckle.. 

“You would be, yes. There’s just nothing fuckin’ better” he says gripping her ass and suddenly lifting her from the floor, Glen loving the way her legs reflexively wrap around his waist. She folds her arms around his neck but doesn’t say anything, looking down at him expectantly like she’s waiting for him to continue.

Glen’s grin grows wider.

“Like, having a handful of this in each hand?” he explains, squeezing her ass again and feeling his deep muscles contract deliciously at the feeling of holding her, “Or you know, seeing it bent over and bouncin’? Just mmm---”

His words trail off into a near-pained groan that rumbles in his throat, Glen instantly aware of his suddenly hardening erection that’s pressing into Billie’s groin. 

Billie looks down at him with bright eyes, clearly amused by his words, and he can tell from her expression that she can more than feel his growing excitement.

“Well, how about instead of just talking about my ass” Billie whispers, cupping Glen’s jaw and bending to kiss him in a way that teases more, “You put me down and help me put this couch together, then maybe I’ll let you bend me over it” 

Her words have an instant response in Glen and he immediately drops her to her feet, Billie laughing at his reaction as he bends and kisses her quickly. She grins up at him, Glen doing his best to ignore his now very restrictive shorts, reaching up to readjust his hat and looking down at her in front of him. 

He smiles wickedly.  “Give me those fuckin’ instructions”

---

Billie

“Screw bracket three into hole two on the base using a ‘C’ screw” Billie reads from the instruction pamphlet, looking up as Glen tightens the screw into the base of the couch. 

Her eyes run over his bulging biceps as he holds the electric drill, and for a second Billie has to remind herself how to breathe. 

He’s wearing a tight black Texas Longhorn’s t-shirt that hugs his muscles perfectly, a black sports cap sitting backwards on his gorgeous head. He looks casual and all-American and sexy as hell, and Billie finds herself seriously struggling to pay attention to her task at hand. Watching him screw the couch together has her thinking all kinds of things, most notably, how badly she wants him to screw her.

“Billie, darlin?” Glen asks suddenly, waving his big hand in front of her face and instantly shaking her from her thoughts, “I said can you pass me another of those big C screws?”

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry” she replies, immediately flustered, leaning back on her knees and grabbing the plastic bag of screws marked ‘C’ from the floor behind her.

“Daydreaming?” he asks when she passes him a screw, looking at her curiously with one raised eyebrow.

She shakes her head and smiles. 

“Just got caught up in my thoughts for a moment” she explains, smiling innocently as she readjusts her glasses and looks back down at the instructions in her hand.

Her cheeks heat when she feels Glen’s gaze on her for a moment longer, knowing she’s been caught and that Glen definitely knows what was on her mind just a moment ago. 

She hears him chuckle before the sound of the electric drill starts again, Billie pressing her lips together and glancing out of the living room window to see Nugget and Brisket chasing each other around the backyard.

Billie turns back when she hears her phone buzzing on the floor, picking it up to find a message in her girl’s group chat. It’s Sloane, asking what she's planning on wearing tomorrow to Chelsea’s bachelorette party, along with several pictures of her own outfit options. The party was going to be an all day event - complete with a full body spa experience, a pole dancing class, cocktails at a rooftop lounge and dancing at some Beverly Hills club to finish off the night. 

“The girls?” Glen asks when Billie’s typing back, Billie looking up to find him gazing at her expectantly.

Billie nods. “It’s Sloane. Asking what I’m wearing tomorrow”.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“A bachelorette party. A very full on bachelorette party to be exact”.

Glen doesn’t say anything, but his expression wills her to explain.

Billie ticks off the itinerary for the party tomorrow, chuckling when Glen’s eyebrows raise at the mention of pole dancing.

“Wow. I don't think I've heard of a bachelorette like that before. Where do you know Chelsea from?”

“She’s actually Bec’s little sister. She’s a few years younger than me, getting married next month” Billie explains, looking down at her phone and back up at Glen, “Her husband Patrick, his family owns olive vineyards or something so they’re really well off. Hence the crazy bachelorette party”.

“I assume the wedding's going to be just as big and crazy?”

Billie laughs. “You assume correct. It's on Catalina Island and I'm pretty sure they've hired an entire resort”.

Glen turns back and finishes screwing another one of the legs onto the couch base, wriggling it to make sure its fixed tight.

“What about you, what are you doing tomorrow? Any plans?” Billie asks, handing Glen another screw when he picks up the final leg.

“Yeah actually, I’ve got a friends birthday somewhere in West Hollywood”

“Close friend?” Billie inquires, typing another response to Sloane before putting her phone back down.

“Yeah, my boy Chord. Used to be my roommate back when I first moved to LA” Glen explains, repeating the process with the last couch leg and fixing it to the base, “We’re still super close”.

Billie tilts her head curiously. “Like, Chord, as in Chord Overstreet?”

Glen turns to face Billie and laughs. “Yes that’s him”

Bille chuckles and shakes her head, suddenly wondering if she'll ever get used to hearing Glen talk casually about his famous friends on a first name basis.

“Alright help me lift this?” Glen says suddenly, Billie getting to her feet and stabilising the back of the couch as Glen lifts it the right way up. 

Glen connects the chaise lounge section as Billie peels the protective film from the leather, the two standing back to admire the finished product in front of them.

“So where are you going to put it?” Glen asks, standing back with hands on his hips beside Billie, looking over their handiwork. “I take it we’re moving this one?” he adds, gesturing to her existing grey three-seater with his foot.

Billie nods, “Yep. And then the new one is going to go this way” she explains, motioning with her hands, gesturing along the wall to the left.

Twenty minutes later they’ve rearranged the living room, taken apart the old couch, and replaced it with the new one, Billie turning to grin at Glen happily when he walks back in from taking the last of the packaging rubbish to her bin outside.

“Happy with it?”

Billie smiles happily. “More than happy. I love it” she remarks, stepping forward to adjust one of the new fluffy throw cushions she’s put on it, before flopping down onto it.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I'm gonna try and sell it. Put it on Facebook marketplace or something” she says, smoothing her hand over the caramel coloured leather.

“Thank you for helping” Billie adds when Glen sits down beside her, smiling gratefully when he reaches over and squeezes her bare thigh, “This probably would have taken me all night if you weren’t here”.

“You’re more than welcome darlin’, it was no trouble at all” he replies with a gentle smile, his fingers rubbing small circles into her skin.

She stares at his hand, loving the way his touch feels, feeling the muscles deep in her belly squeeze the longer she watches it. She hasn’t forgotten about her shower comment earlier today, her imagination suddenly conjuring thoughts of her bent over in the shower with him, Glen standing behind her and matching each push of her hips with his own.

She’s just about to open her mouth to suggest as much, Glen’s phone ringing suddenly and breaking the silence. He squeezes her thigh gently, using the other to fish his phone from his pocket and looking down at the number on the screen, offering an apologetic smile to Billie before he accepts the call.

Her thoughts elsewhere, and a slow-burning fire simmering in the pit of her insides, an idea slowly forms in her brain. She stands up from the couch, pausing mid-stand to bend and quickly kiss Glen, making her way to the bedroom and leaving him alone on her new living room couch.

She pulls the tie from her hair and runs her fingers through her long waves, stripping off her work uniform until she’s naked. She leaves her clothes in a strategic trail from her bedroom to her ensuite bathroom, looking back at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She can feel her heart start to race, butterflies unfurling in her stomach, a mix of excitement and nervousness suddenly coursing through her veins.

Billie leans into the shower and turns the water on hot, steam starting to fill the bathroom after a few seconds. She picks up her phone and lets out a shaky, excited breath, opening the camera and pointing it at the mirror until her reflection fills the screen. She turns and tosses her hair back, looking over her shoulder at the mirror, crossing her legs so that her ass curves in just the right way and she teases just a hint of side boob. Covering her face with her phone, she snaps her best sexy selfie, looking down at the screen and grinning excitedly. Deciding it’s her best work yet and feeling the adrenaline shooting down her spine, she inhales deeply, closing her eyes for a moment to calm herself, before tapping at the screen and sending it to Glen.

Waiting for you to join me for that shower, handsome 😉

Billie grins and tosses her phone onto the bathroom counter, stepping into the shower and under the spray of the hot water. She closes her eyes as she tips her head back beneath the water, sighing when she feels her muscles instantly relax. She takes a second to enjoy it - the feel of the hot water soothing her muscles and washing away the day, and the delicious feeling of anticipation from her devious text. She smiles to herself knowing she has maybe a minute before Glen sees her message, her mind filling with thoughts of one thing only.

Forty-seven seconds later she hears footsteps entering the bathroom, unable to help the way her lips part when she hears Glen curse out loud, followed by a near-pained groan that makes her feel all kinds of things deep in her stomach. She doesn’t turn around, instead hearing the shuffling sound of clothes being removed, a cool breeze from the shower door soon being opened making goosebumps rise on her skin. 

She feels Glen’s arms snaking around her waist and joining her under the spray only a second later, his arousal pressing into her ass, already thick, hard and tantalisingly perfect. A heavy breath falls from her when his hand flattens against her belly, her body being pulled back until she’s flush against his chest. She feels his other hand glide up her arm, fingers collecting her wet hair and sliding it over her shoulder, before his fingers dance along her throat and pull her head back against his chest.

The action has Billie reeling, every fibre of her body suddenly on fire, her eyes closing when Glen leans in and presses his mouth to her now exposed neck. She can’t help the sigh that escapes her then, letting herself melt into Glen as he kisses and sucks at her skin in the most sensual way.

She’s in heaven, she’s sure of it, feeling her whole body turn to liquid from the feel of the steamy hot water and Glen’s mouth. She nearly whimpers when the hand on her belly glides lower, teasing her for just a moment before he’s cupping her sex. They both groan then - her at the feeling of his fingers slipping through her slippery folds, him at finding her already deliciously wet and wanting.

Her breathing heavy, she musters a sliver of focus from somewhere unknown and reaches one hand behind to find his arousal, wrapping her fingers around and gliding her fist up and down his thick length. The sound Glen makes in her ear reaches the deepest pit of her stomach, his grip on her neck tightening in the best way and only spurring her on more.

She increases her pace but momentarily stalls when Glen slips his fingers inside her, two and then a third only a moment later, the sudden decadent fullness making Billie cry out his name in the most sinful way.

“I love hearin’ you say my name darlin’’” Glen breathes in her ear, his voice only just audible over the spray of the shower, his words like silky velvet wrapping around Billie’s spine and sending carnal shivers throughout her entire body. 

He’s still holding her throat, holding her pressed against his shoulder as he continues his assault on her neck, finger fucking her with a steady rhythm and making the edges of her vision start to blur.

Billie does her best to focus on her own rhythm as Glen curls his fingers inside her, the sounds of wet and skin getting obscenely louder as they both increase their pace. Billie can feel herself quickly unravelling, slipping further into the heady cloud of erotic bliss, her heart thumping so loud she can feel it in her ears. She squeezes her eyes shut, no longer able to focus on her coordination, reluctantly letting go of Glen and instead reaching for the wall to brace herself. 

She doesn’t quite find the wall though, suddenly feeling herself being flipped around, Glen pressing her back against the tiles, caging her in and kissing her lips again hungrily. His lips are feverish, his tongue licking into her mouth, one of his hands sliding down her thigh before hooking it up and over his arm. 

His free hand snakes back to her sex and within moments he’s buried back inside her, curling his fingers once again in a way that makes Billie moan desperately into their kiss. Glen has a better angle like this, his fingers stretching and fucking her in a way that makes her toes curl, Billie knowing she’s done for the moment he finds that perfect spot inside her.

At some point she has to force herself away from Glen’s lips, dropping her head back against the tiled wall as she cries out into the shower. His lips suddenly abandoned, Glen moves down to her throat and sucks at Billie’s skin, pressing his palm against her clit and making her cry out a second time. Billie’s leg wobbles at the new contact and she grabs for his arm, gripping at his thick biceps to stabilise herself as she feels herself start to tremble.

She knows Glen can feel it too then, knowing she’s right there on the edge, his voice deep and silky in her ear as he tells her to come for him.

“Come on peach, that’s it” Glen breathes, his voice like smooth velvet, “Let me feel it baby, let me hear you come”.

His encouragement is her undoing and all of a sudden she’s coming all over his fingers, gripping onto his arms with everything she has as she spasms around his hand. She can feel Glen kissing her as she rides out her high - aware but unable to focus on the feel of his lips on her neck, her jaw, her shoulder, too caught up in her orgasm flooding through her. 

Eventually she stills, Glen still peppering her with kisses, finally pulling his fingers from her and lowering her leg to the floor. He makes sure she’s stable, still holding her waist with one hand, Billie’s eyes fluttering open to find his pale green eyes looking down at her in awe.

“You okay?”

Billie answers with an emphatic nod, the action making Glen chuckle, Billie smiling when he bends to kiss her gently and tuck strands of stray, wet hair behind her ear.

She squeezes his arm, finally recovered from her release, all of a sudden very aware of Glen’s raging arousal that’s pressing against his belly just inches from her own. She inhales deeply, her next decision forming in her brain, Glen noting the change in her expression and looking down at her curiously.

She licks her lips and pushes herself off the wall, using her grip on Glen’s arms to turn him around and swap their positions so that he’s the one now pressed against the tiles. She leans in and kisses him fleetingly, teasing his lips with her tongue, her hands moving to his chest and suddenly sliding down lower.

Glen’s eyes are on her, his lips parted in anticipation as his chest rises and falls, watching Billie’s every move as she slowly, teasingly, sinks down to her knees in front of him to return the favour.

---

Glen

They’re sitting on the new couch after their shower, Glen with a beer and Billie with a glass of rose, Glen glancing over at Billie beside him. Her damp hair is freshly washed and pulled back into a braid that’s snaking down her shoulder, her clear-framed glasses from earlier perched on her nose. She’s wearing a loose pair of soft, grey sweat shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that teases a slice of her toned abdomen whenever she moves a certain way. Even fresh from the shower and with what he’s pretty sure is a face completely free of makeup, he still can’t help but think how fucking gorgeous she is.

Glen lets out a breath and takes a sip of his beer, relaxing back into the couch. Some part of him is still reeling from the shower earlier, unsure if he’d ever get over the sight of Billie on her knees in front of him. The way she’d worked his cock over and over, teasing him and stroking him in the best way until he was coming down her throat. Her bright hazel eyes when she’d gorgeously grinned up at him, the way she’d winked at him after she’d swallowed. The thought was enough to make him hard all over again.

She was a fucking goddess and my God he’d never seen anything more sexy.

The sound of the doorbell ringing breaks him from his thoughts, Billie moving to put down her glass before Glen stops her with a hand on her knee.

“You stay, I’ll get it”

He puts down his beer and makes his way down the hallway, both Nugget and Brisket already standing at the door and wagging their tails expectantly. Glen bends to ruffle Nugget’s fur with a smile, before opening the door and frowning when he doesn’t find the Chinese takeout he and Billie had ordered earlier.

Instead he’s met with a hand directly in his face, a thick, shiny gold ring adorning the fourth finger.

“Billie we’re engaged!”

Glen’s frown grows even deeper, confusion taking over his face, the hand suddenly yanking away and allowing Glen a full view of the owner.

“Oh…you’re not Billie”

Glen stares blankly at two men standing in front of him, the expressions on their faces just as confused as his own, the three of them seemingly lost for words as they stare at one another. Glen watches as the taller one stands back and looks up over the house, as if checking that they’re at the right house, the other still looking back at Glen in bewilderment. 

“But that’s Nugget…” the taller one confirms out loud when he spies the happily panting golden dog at Glen’s feet, the first man with the ring tilting his head and blatantly looking Glen up and down. 

“Where’s Billie?” the taller guy asks.

“Wait, are you---” the man with the ring asks at the same time, the two looking at each other for a second before turning back to Glen when he clears his throat.

“She’s inside” he offers, stepping back and calling Billie’s name into the house behind him.

Glen hears his name whispered by one of the men, turning in time to see them whispering to one another, the taller one’s eyes widening in absolute surprise as he realises who’s standing in front of him.

“Oh my fucking God it is!” the taller one remarks loudly, “You’re Glen Powell!”.

Glen only nods at them, looking over his shoulder when Billie suddenly comes jogging up behind him, her face splitting into a smile when she spies the two men.

“Hey guys!” Billie exclaims, opening the door wider and standing beside Glen, “Everything okay?”

“Oh my God Billie!” the one with the ring shouts, clapping his hands happily, “Look! We’re engaged!”.

He thrusts his hand towards Billie and Glen watches as she immediately erupts into excited cheers of congratulations, rushing forward and wrapping both men in a happy hug. Glen shuffles his feet, still having zero idea who the two men are, looking down at Billie as she takes the man’s hand in hers and closely inspects the golden ring.

“Ryan I love it, it’s gorgeous” she gushes, smiling affectionately up at the two, her eyes suddenly widening as if she all of a sudden remembers that Glen’s standing there.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Billie stutters, looking back and flashing Glen an apologetic smile, reaching out to squeeze his arm before turning back to the two guys.

“Glen, this is Ryan and Lachlan, my neighbours” she explains, gesturing from him to the men and back again, “Ryan and Lach, this is Glen”.

“You mean Glen Powell” Ryan emphasises as Glen shakes Lachlan’s hand, Billie laughing and shaking her head when Ryan says something under his breath that Glen doesn’t quite catch. 

Glen grins and steps forward to shake Ryan’s hand next, telling them that it’s nice to meet them both and offering his congratulations on their engagement.

“You both have to come in and have a drink to celebrate” Glen proposes, a soft smile on his face as he gestures to the two to come inside.

“Oh no no, we couldn’t impose like that” Lachlan replies immediately, shaking his head in polite decline.

“Absolutely. We couldn’t possibly interrupt your… date night” Ryan adds, accentuating the words ‘date night’ and shooting a questioning look at Billie that she dismisses with a wink and a knowing grin.

“Guys you just got engaged. Please come in and celebrate” Billie insists, gesturing again for them to come in, “I’m certain I have a bottle of champagne somewhere”.

The sound of the word champagne has them both immediately changing tact, Glen stepping aside and holding the door open for them both to pass by. Billie smiles up at him as she turns to follow them, Glen instead catching her arm and stopping her, bending and quickly kissing her. He doesn’t say anything when they part, only winking back at her and loving the way her lips part into her gorgeous smile, Billie tightening her hold on his hand and tugging him towards the living room.

---

Previous Chapter

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[doodlboy]

Woah my comms are open again!

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[claudiaeparvier]

Can’t Get Over You - A Frey/Cuff playlist

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using

[junipernight]

Yangvik Week 2024 - Days 2 and 4

Prompts: Touch Starved, Family, and Hair

___________________________________________

Balm

“Alright, I’m ready,” said Yangchen, stepping out from behind the finned-caribou hide that partitioned the tent.

Kavik squinted at her. She was dressed in the blue furs of the water tribe, in a knee-length parka with a moon motif on the front panel. Her hair had been swept up and folded into a bun, with two strands on either side of her face hanging in braids and adorned with bone beads. Her arrows were completely covered by the warm mittens on her hands and the thick fringe over her forehead.

She looked every inch a Northern Water Tribe girl - even her eyes, normally a dark gray, seemed to have taken on a slightly icy hue, as if they were reflecting the arctic world around them—but there was something off about the disguise.

Kavik snapped his fingers as he figured it out. “You look like my gran-gran!” he said. Then his thoughts caught up with his mouth, and he said, “Wait, that didn’t come out right.”

Luckily, Yangchen seemed more amused than offended. “How was it supposed to come out, then?”

Kavik poked the bun at the nape of her neck. “Your hair. No one younger than my gran-gran wears their hair like that.”

Yangchen frowned. This had been her favorite way to do her hair, in one past life or another. She hadn’t even thought about it before tying her hair up—her fingers had remembered all on their own.

Thinking back on her time training in Agna Qel’a, however, she realized Kavik was right. She would stick out if she wore her hair like this, and it was very important that she blend in for the sake of the mission: Today, she was meeting Kavik’s extended family in Long Stretch.

And if everything went well, they would never suspect that “Ilagik” was the Avatar. 

Yangchen  peeked out the tent flap: the tundra greeted her, wide open and vibrant and abuzz with the frenetic energy of late summer. The sun was obscured by a light mist, but she could make out a bright spot low on the eastern horizon. “We have some time before we have to leave,” she said. “I can try again.”

“Let me help you,” Kavik offered.

Yangchen raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“My cousin taught me how to braid when I was little,” he said defensively, as if he were offended that she doubted him.

Yangchen shrugged, and flounced onto the nearest bedroll. “Ok then. You do it.”

Kavik took off his mittens and sat behind her. He pulled out the beads, untied the ribbons, and unpinned the fake fringe. Then he began to comb her hair. He started at the bottom, gently running his fingers through the strands and gently teasing apart tangles. Gradually he worked his way up to the roots of her hair.

Without meaning to, Yangchen leaned back into his touch, her eyes drifting shut. Having her hair brushed felt nice, nicer than she would have expected. It wasn’t an experience she was accustomed to; the last time someone had brushed her hair would have been back at the Western Air Temple. The older Air Nomad girls taught the younger ones how to deal with hair after they turned old enough; growing one’s hair out was an important marker of growing up. Yangchen didn’t remember whose hands had brushed her hair and taught her how to hold the comb, only that it hadn’t been Jetsun.

Yangchen winced. 

“Sorry,” said Kavik, thinking the motion had been in response to something he did.

Yangchen suddenly noticed that there wasn’t much braiding going on. “Are you playing with my hair?”

Kavik paused guiltily, “... maybe.”

“Keep doing it, it feels nice.”

Kavik was happy to oblige. He ran his hands through her hair some more, watching the silky strands slip through his fingers.

“Tell me about your cousin,” she said. “The one who taught you how to braid.”

Kavik began to separate her hair into sections. “I have a lot of cousins, but my favorite is Yuka. Every year, we used to see each other at fish camp, and we’d all go everywhere together like a pack of porcupine seals. Yuka is the oldest, and Kalyann and I used to think that cloudberries sprouted wherever she walked. She’s really smart, and she always had the best ideas for games.

“One summer, she was teaching my girl cousins how to braid their hair, and I cried until she let me learn too.”

Yangchen grinned as she imagined Kavik, baby-cheeked and innocent and tearful about being excluded.

“Real tears?” she inquired. “Or were you a master liar even then?”

“Very real tears,” Kavik assured her solemnly. . “I would never lie to Yuka.” 

Yangchen snorted, not believing him for a minute. “Will I get to meet Yuka?”

“I hope so. I heard she’s married now; hopefully she didn’t move away.”

“Do you mind if I use a little hair grease?” Kavik asked, holding up a small jar. 

“Umm...” Yangchen was willing to eat meat, if that was what was available. She was aware that the clothes she wore and the tent they were sheltered in were made from the hides of dead animals… hides which had been carefully waterproofed with the same animal fat Kavik now held up, no doubt. And yet, it still made her uncomfortable, the idea of rubbing cooked animal remains directly on her person.

She was about to say yes anyway, for the disguise and because it wasn’t really a big deal, when Kavik surprised her.

“It’s from Taku,” he said, twisting open the lid. Instead of the stench of animal fat, a fruity and sweet aroma filled the air, taking her by surprise. “I think it’s some kind of fruit oil.”

Yangchen’s shoulders relaxed. “Sure.”

Kavik rubbed the grease onto his hands and began to massage it into her hair. Whatever fruit it was, it was familiar. The scent called her back to some other place, in some other lifetime, but Yangchen resisted, focusing on the soft patter of rain on the tent and the gentle tugging of her companion’s hands through her hair; he was massaging her scalp now, digging his fingers into the roots of her hair; this was even better than the brushing.

No one touched Yangchen anymore, outside of occasional bouts of physical combat. In the western air temple, she had grown up in close proximity to dozens of girls, with whom she’d had very little physical boundaries. Her sisters and she had piled on the same beds, and huddled for warmth during festivals at the northern temple, and tackled each other both on and off the air ball court. And of course Jetsun had always been her greatest source of comfort, holding her close and anchoring her to the present when she was wracked by the grief and anguish of a thousand past lives. After Jetsun had died and Yangchen had left the temple, she’d been left with almost no one. Just a lonely figure at the top of an air spout, suspended in front of  an audience.

(Except for Nu Jian, when she still had him. Nu Jian couldn’t hug her, but at least she could hug Nu Jian.)

When had Kavik become the exception to her isolation? When had Kavik become the one that casually lifted her up and spun her around?

She was almost sad when he finally began braiding her hair, but they did have somewhere to be, and a long ride ahead of them. 

Kavik froze a thin sheet of ice, and held it up to her when he was done.

“What do you think?” He asked.

Kavik had braided the bulk of her hair into one long braid and pulled it into a loop that dangled from the crown of her head. He’d also redone the face-framing qilliqti that she had tried to do before. Yangchen had struggled to thread the thin braids through the beads, and her earlier attempt had been frizzy because of it. The hair grease combined with Kavik's skill had made the braids sleek and elegant.

Yangchen turned to thank him, and then immediately dodged a greasy finger aimed right for her nose. Another greasy hand came at her, and she grabbed Kavik’s wrists.

“Stop that!” She laughed.

“But you like my hands,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’m trying to give you a hug!”

“Oh!” It was Kavik’s turn to be surprised. “Okay.”

She hugged him. And then she directed his greasy hands back at his face.

“Hey!”

.

.

.

(They were slightly late to dinner with Kavik’s parents.)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

nervously holding out & rattling a Little Tip Jar

[spaciebabie]

um springtrap brainrot:

i wanna stick my hands in the cracks of the springlock suit in like a sex way

how does the sex work.

[littleragondin]

Love Between Fairy and Devil in all seriousness - Episode 8 (description in alt)