#(the way people seem to be able to do when it comes to her)

[cupidbedsy]

𝜗𝜚 drunken nights ; into you

➪ summary: after a long week, y/n just wants to unwind and luke looks after her when things get a little out of hand

➪ warnings: reader is an emotional and very clingy drunk

➪ word count: 2.1k

➪ cupid's notes: i am so so excited for everything that comes out of this au! if you want, please keep sending in thoughts and asks and yeah. i hope you guys enjoy

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

It had been way too long of a week for her, tests upon tests, assignment after assignment, and worst of all she had barely seen Luke all week. At first, the idea of getting up and getting ready for a party she knew she would only halfway enjoy seemed exhausting but then the thought of being able to unwind and see Luke made its way into her mind and she wasted no time in starting to do her makeup. 

Dressed in one of her favorite short black skirts, a blue corset top, with her leather jacket thrown on and her knee-high black boots adorning her feet, she let her friends drag her out of their dorm and down the stairs, heading for the car. 

She was silent almost the whole way there, the lingering stress and anxiety still flowing through her head. If it wasn’t for the idea of seeing Luke tonight, she would’ve let the uneasiness consume her entirely. 

She was so in her head that she didn’t even realize that they parked outside of the Frat house that was hosting the party that night. She could hear the music from outside, watching as the lights flickered within the house and people hung out on the lawn. 

She gripped her best friend’s hand tightly, walking through the crowded house towards the kitchen where all the drinks were. She watched as her friend poured her her first drink of the night, taking it gratefully and sipping on it. 

Luke was in the middle of a game of beer pong, laughing with a few of his frat boys, running a hand through his hair when he felt something within him shift. It was the same feeling he got whenever y/n showed up, whenever he would lay eyes on her, whenever she brushed her fingers against his arm. 

His eyes worked overtime trying to find her, looking from the other side of the living room to the front door. He frowned when he didn’t see her, immediately going to scan the house again, but that’s when he saw her, tipping her head back as she finished her drink and reaching out to grab another one from her friend. 

He mumbled an ‘excuse me’ before making his way over to her, pushing through people to do so. They had been texting any chance they got meaning he knew how stressed she had been the entirety of the week and now seeing her tip back the drink as fast as she did, he knew that she would be downing drinks like there was no tomorrow. 

He threw an arm around her as soon as he approached, taking the drink from her hand, “Hey.”

She frowned when the cup left her grasp, looking up at him with her signature doe eyes, whining, “Lukey.”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“You took my drink.”

He laughed at her pout, bringing her closer to his side so he could press a kiss to her temple, “I did. How many have you had already?”

“I just got here, that’s my second one.”

He gave her a skeptical look but relented nonetheless, handing her the drink back. He watched the people around them before turning his attention back to her, “How’re you doing?”

“Okay.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows at the short answer, expecting at least something other than okay. He maneuvered her so she was standing in front of him, making her stare up at him. His eyes trailed over her face, making note of every single freckle, eyelash, curve, and contour of her face, “What’s wrong?”

“A little stressed still. Have a bunch of things to do this weekend still.”

“Which means you want to drink to your heart’s content don’t you?”

Y/n gave him a pleading look, “Just for tonight? Please, Lukey.”

She watched as he mulled over the thought in his mind, studying his damp curls and the bead of sweat falling down the side of his face. She took in his appearance while she waited, his unbuttoned dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and his khaki shorts that sat just above his knees. 

“Fine.” 

She was snapped out of her trance at his single word, giving him a grateful smile as she raised on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before downing her drink. He sighed in return, knowing that this was going to be a long night. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

And he was right, she drank drink after drink, giggling like a little schoolgirl with each one she had. He had forgotten about how she was when she was drunk, the cute little laugh she couldn’t stop releasing, her contagious smile, and her clingy nature. 

Y/n reached for another drink but Luke’s hand encompassed hers and took it into his own, bringing it to his chest as she glared at him. He grinned, dumping the cup’s contents down the sink and wrapping his arms around her waist, bringing her to his chest, “I think it’s time we get you home, pretty girl.”

“But I’m having fun.” Her whine was barely loud enough for him, he had to bend down just so he could hear her words. 

“And you’re not going to have any fun tomorrow if you keep having fun tonight. C’mon, let’s go.”

She only giggles again, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, “You’re pretty, Lukey.”

A smirk takes over his features, looking down at her curiously, “Is that so, princess?”

“Mhm. The prettiest,” she states matter-of-factly, tugging at one of his curls again. 

“You’re so drunk, baby.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead.

“I’m telling the truth!”

“And how can I be sure you’re not bluffing? You gonna prove it to me?”

“I will.”

“And how will you manage to do that?” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, his face still set in his usually cocky smugness. 

“You’ll find out. Just you wait, Luke Hughes.”

“Oh, I will be.”

A silence falls between them, or about as silent as you can get with music still blaring through multiple speakers and people yelling over said music. And after a few minutes, y/n could feel the tiredness creeping up on her causing her to shuffle closer to her best friend, laying her head on his chest, “Lukey?”

He wrapped her arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head, “Yeah, y/n/n?”

“Can we go now?”

He chuckled but nodded, “‘Course we can, c’mon.” His hand falls to her lower back, guiding her out of the house and down the street to where his truck was parked, helping her into the passenger seat. 

He walked around to the other side, climbing into the truck himself, stealing a glance over at her, and confusion flashing across his face when he saw the pout on her lips, “What’s wrong, pretty girl? Too much to drink?”

“Wanna sit by you.”

He raised an eyebrow, drawing his hand back from the keys that were in the ignition, “You want to sit by me?”

She just nodded, a determined feeling washing over her. He threw his head back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think of a way to break it to her that she wouldn’t be able to sit in his lap. It had been so long since she had been this drunk that he had forgotten how clingy she got, and how sad she got when she didn’t get her way. 

“Y/n/n you can’t sit in my lap.” He stated softly, looking over at her. 

“Why not?”

“Because I’m driving, it’ll not only put you in danger but me as well. Just gotta wait a few minutes, sweet girl, and then you can cuddle me and sit in my lap as much as your heart desires.”

She whined again, “That’ll take too long.”

A chuckle escaped him, letting his hand move to settle on her thigh, “It won’t be more than 10 minutes, hell it probably won’t even be five.”

Y/n knew he was right, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to be right. She stared back at him, trying to assert some level of authority over him but the challenging look he was giving her was enough to make her sink back into the seat, “Fine.”

“Good girl.” He squeezed her thigh, leaning over to kiss her temple before starting his truck and pulling away from the curb. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke had to drag her upstairs, y/n letting him carry most of her body weight as she rested against him. The two came to a stop at his room, y/n waiting as he opened the door, leading her to sit down on his bed. She watched him carefully as he picked a few things off the ground, mostly dirty clothes, and placed them where they should be. 

He could feel her gaze on him but he paid no mind to it, continuing to tidy up as best as he could. When he finished, he turned back to her, smiling softly as her eyes opened and closed. He walked over to her, placing his index finger beneath her chin and tilting her head up so she was looking at him through hazy eyes, “Tired, princess?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s get you changed then, yeah?”

She just nodded in response, letting him move to grab one of his T-shirts from his drawer and an extra pair of sleep shorts she kept at his. He handed them to her but she just gave him a look of helplessness. He chuckled, “You want me to help?”

“Please.”

“Alright, baby.” He took the clothes from her again, placing them beside her on the bed, slipping her jacket off, and throwing it on the chair in the corner. 

His fingers skimmed her stomach as he went to take her shirt off, cooing softly, “Arms up.”

She did as she was told, lifting her arms so he could easily slide the shirt off of her, doing the same thing he did with her jacket. He tugged her skirt down before putting her shorts on and letting the t-shirt fall over her frame. 

“Better?”

“Mhm.” She moved to curl up on his bed, bringing the comforter around her, letting the heat surround her. 

Luke changed into a random pair of sweatpants, throwing his shirt in the laundry basket, and kissing her forehead, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Where you going?”

“Gonna get you some water and some meds so you’re head doesn’t hurt in the morning.”

“Quick?”

“Yeah, I’ll be quick.”

She nodded, snuggling into the bed as he left the room, practically running down the steps to the kitchen. 

And just like he promised, he was back within three minutes, two glasses of water and a few pills that he rested on his nightstand. He coaxed her into sitting up, letting her sit between his legs so her back was flush with his chest. 

“Drink.” He pressed the glass to her lips, urging her to take soft sips.  She sighed as the cool liquid went down her throat, relaxing even further into him. 

Once she finished the glass, he let her lay back down, him following in her steps, pulling her against him, “Get some sleep.”

Some time in between the time he left and when he got back, a small burst of energy made its way into her, causing her to turn over to face him, a small smile on her face, “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Wanna stay with you.”

“You were going to sleep with me here anyway, baby.”

“I want to stay awake and talk to you.” A frown graced her lips, pouting once again. 

Butterflies erupted in his stomach, looking at her in awe, “That’s sweet of you princess, but you need your rest.”

She nodded, the energy she got quickly fading, but one question lingered in her mind, “Lu?”

“What’s up?”

“I’m your best friend right?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “‘Course you are. Why’re you asking?”

“Just wondering.”

“Now tell me the real reason.”

“I dunno, just- would you go out with someone else?”

He softened, “I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you’re mine, y/n/n.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up slightly, her mind and body still letting the alcohol affect them. 

“Yep, all mine, baby.”

She didn’t say anything more, just snuggled into him once again, drifting off to sleep almost instantly. Luke knew she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, the only thing she would have as a reminder would be the pounding headache once she woke up.

꒰ INTO YOU TAGLIST ꒱

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INTO YOU MASTERLIST ; AU'S

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[astraeus-tree]

Chapter 3

『The Dark Sea Gets Deeper As You Approach』

Disparities Between Our Souls You're forced to make some decisions you'd rather not do and have a bittersweet goodbye with your aunt Disclaimer(s): N/A

Chapter 2 <- Chapter 3

The silence of the comms held countless unspoken words that piled up over the years you were gone. It was finally interrupted by Cass’s voice.

“As in our [Name?]” Her voice was full of disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Where are you. Damian could hear the urge and hope in her voice through the comms.

“I’m on a rooftop near their aunt’s house. They’ve just gone in with the other supposed-hero and the rogue.”

Finally, Damian heard the sound of Dick’s voice through the comms. “Robin, stay there and follow them if they go out. I’ll come over after dealing with some stuff in Bludhaven. Oracle, alert B when he comes back from his mission with the JL.”

“Copy.” Both Damian and Barbara replied.

“I’m coming over Robin.” Cass spoke up again, determination laced in her voice.

“Red Robin.” Dick called out.

“Yes?” Tim’s voice sounded surprised, like he had been lost in thought.

“You’re in charge of finding any information about [Name] and their partner.”

“On it.”

Throughout the whole conversation, many members of the group stayed quiet. Amongst these people was Jason Todd.

Jason had many regrets, more than he could count. Yet, one his biggest ones was his relationship with you. When you had gone missing, Jason was devastated. He was forced to confront his feelings. Forced to realise how his actions had caused you more harm than protect you, like he intended.

Those who had the misfortune of going against him the first few of your disappearance had instantly regretted it, but they did not have the pleasure of being granted mercy by the crime lord.

He thought he had finally accepted this outcome—you were gone, never to be found and you two would never have the chance to reconcile. This surprise turn of events had disrupted this mindset of his.

Jason didn’t know what to feel. On one hand, he finally had another opportunity to reconnect with you. On the other, he didn’t know how to go with his new-found chance. Clearly, you were not the same person you once were. Not the old [Name] who didn’t have any fighting knowledge. It almost made Jason laugh at how similar you and him were, but this wasn’t the time for that. He had a decision to make, to got or to not, and he had to make it quick.

The three of you of you had been at this for what seemed like hours at this point.

With such little tools and no idea why they were even broken in the first place, no progress had been made in fixing the gizmos. At times like this, you wished you were half as resourceful as Hobie Brown, but unfortunately, neither you, Miguel or you aunt were.

With it still being the middle of the night, you decided it was best for your aunt to get some rest. You did eventually persuade your aunt to go to rest, but not without some reluctance and white lies that you’d also go to sleep soon.

It was now only you and Miguel—excluding the anomaly— in the living room of your aunt’s. The silence made you uneasy, like something would pop out of the dark corners and scare you. With your adrenaline finally coming down from its high, you were left to deal with the overwhelming emotions that it left in its wake.

Mentally, you recounted the events that had occurred in just the past few hours; firstly, you were unexpectedly dropped into your home universe with no way to return to where you were before. Then, you and Miguel find an anomaly. You were ready to open the can of worms this knowledge came with so you moved on. Finally, you met your aunt after not being able to see her for 5 years, a seemingly invisible force stopping you every time you had attempted before.

So many emotions coursed through you that you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

Another problem to add to your pile was your family. You knew it was inevitable for your family to find out about you and your new identity, in fact, they probably already knew you were here, but you just weren’t ready to face them. Your habit of avoiding confrontation was always weakness of yours.

You wanted to stay away from them as much as you could. It wasn’t that you hated them, it was just that you grew to live a life without them and had almost completely forgotten what it was like to be with them and you wanted it to stay that way.

You decided to focus your thoughts back to the gizmo. This was your priority, not avoiding your family. You needed these gizmos working, stat. You and your husband had a HQ to run and an anomaly to send back to its universe.

Speaking of the HQ, hopefully it was doing alright without its leader. “Miguel, do you think the HQ is doing well?”

He nods. “Lyla’s most likely already informed the others of our disappearance. She can handle most of my responsibilities, and those that she can’t will be handled by Spiderwoman and, regrettably, spiderman.” You sighed, you knew you could trust Lyla and Jess with those responsibilities. Peter, maybe not as much, but hopefully the others will keep him in line. “Our main concern right now is to get our gizmos working again so the anomaly can be sent back.”

You felt defeated. All you had was a lack of new discoveries, useless tools and broken gizmos in your hands. Your train of though was interrupted by a familiar sound—distortion, like that of a TV. You swung your head towards the anomaly and then back to Miguel.

Shit.

You had forgotten about the glitching. You knew it was there but with so much happening, you were too busy to even remember that detail. Glitching was a painful experience, and as much as you didn’t like Doc Ock in any universe, you didn’t wish the pain of glitching upon them.

You really were on a time crunch now, unless you found a way to temporarily stop the glitching. Wait.

You did have one, and it was wrapped around your wrist right now; your gizmo. Although the portals weren’t working, you knew it still at least stopped the glitching. After all, your husband was standing perfectly fine with no glitches. As for you, this was your universe, you wouldn’t glitch at all as a native to the world.

“Should I give him my gizmo?” You stared down at the Doc Ock as you asked Miguel. His brows furrowed almost instantly at your words.

“I’m sorry? Did I hear that right mi vida?” Miguel was flabbergasted, in full doubt of your words.

“I mean, the portals aren’t working, communications are down, we’re in my universe and he’s glitching. I feel like the pros outweigh the cons right now.” You reasoned with not only him, but also yourself. You could see that Miguel was genuinely thinking through this plan of yours. You knew it was risky, but with the two main risks not working, you felt it would be fine.

Apparently, so did Miguel, as he nodded not even a minute later. “Alright.”

You took the watch off your wrist as you walked over to the Doc Ock and strapped it around his. “This’ll stop the glitching for now. Once we get back to the HQ where we can transport you back to your universe, I’ll take it back.” You spoke softly to him.

Although he couldn’t move due to Miguel’s paralysing venom, you could see his eyes light up and you took that as a thank you sign. You nodded at him before standing up again and facing your husband. “We really need to get back home soon.”

“Agreed, but we don’t have the right tools in reach to do that.” You both sighed and stayed quiet for a few seconds, letting each other try to come up with solutions. “Do you think we could go to your-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” You glared at him.

“It’s really our only option right now, corazón. Unless we suddenly had money, our only other choice is to steal. They’ll be able to help us, they’re your world’s greatest detectives, are they not?” Damn it, why did Miguel have to make such a compelling argument.

“I don’t want to talk to them though.” You saw Miguel’s demeanour soften at your mumbled words.

“I know mi corazón, but let’s think about it this way. They’ll be able to help us finish what we need to faster, and after we leave, you won’t ever have to talk with them again. Don’t you want at least some closure as well? How they felt about your disappearance?” You stayed quiet, biting your nails. Your mind was in a war with itself right now. “I’m sure they’ll be relieved to see you alive and well.”

“I hate how you’re probably right.” You slump in defeat, placing your head on his shoulders. You felt his arms wrap around you, comforting in every way and you melted into his embrace.

“I’ll be by your side the whole time. You don’t need to be worried about anything.” You clung to him tighter.

“Thank you my love. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You mumbled, words even more muffled by that fact that your head was still leaning on his shoulders.

“Yo también te amo.” You smiled at the familiar phrase.

…..

The sunrise came far quicker than you liked it to. With it came a new day with tasks you had to fulfil. One of which was the bittersweet goodbye with your aunt.

You waited anxiously for her to wake up. As you did, you walked around the house, nostalgia heavy. You stopped at the entrance of your bedroom.

Your room looked like it had remained untouched throughout the years. You remembered when you were younger, this room—the whole house, actually— was a lot more ruined, with paint peeling and bugs crawling everywhere. As much as you didn’t like Bruce, you were thankful that his money was able to grant your aunt with better living conditions.

You head a familiar pattern of footsteps approaching your room.

“Do you miss it?” Your aunt asked, voice soft.

“I do. I always miss when it was just us two.”

“Me too.” You stayed silent, it felt like she wanted to say more and you were right about that. “When you first disappeared, I was devastated, you know? I would sleep in your bed, letting my tears dry there. I was too scared to touch anything else in this room. This was all I had left of you.”

She put her hand on your shoulder, and suddenly, it felt like you were a little kid again, afraid of what the big world had in store for you. “I know you’re leaving today. Don’t worry about me darling. I know you’re alive and happy and that’s all I’ll ever need.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. She turned you around to face her and cupped your face. “Don’t cry. I’ll always be here whenever you need me.”

You held her hands gently. “I promise to have back to you auntie. I’ll find a way.” You were filled with determination. Once you made it back to the HQ, you would do everything in your power to find a way to visit your aunt without some random rogue portal.

“I’ll be here waiting for as long as that will take.” You smiled at her and she returned it. It hurt you to break apart, but you knew you eventually had to.

You walked to the living room, where your husband was and nodded at him. He stood up, understanding the message. He easily picked up the anomaly and headed towards the front door. You slowly followed, reluctant to leave this place once again, but you pushed yourself.

You turned around to see her one more time before leaving. “We’ll be going now auntie. I’ll see you again.”

“Be careful out there darling.” You smiled and nodded before walking to Miguel who was waiting outside the door. You took a deep breath and stepped outside.

Taglist (open)

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I'm sorry for another late chapter guys 😭

This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, I can't lie. I started getting writer's block and then I started hating my writing so that was fun

I'm also starting to regret starting this story without a proper plot so we'll see how that goes lmao

Also, most of Batfam finally makes their appearance, yippee!!

Anyways, I watched AOT: The Last Attack in the cinema yesterday and oml I was sobbing the whole way through. I won't spoil anything just in case some of ya'll watch it but it was just so sad

As usual, mistakes are free to point out! They will be fixed as soon as possible

This week's song comes from the English translation of Black Sorrow from Alien Stage

Have a great day/night everyone! <3

[darnell-la]

I just saw a post where they mentioned what if Logan mocked your moans while he fingered you, or was doing anything really. It seems like it would feel silly coming from him but also so perfectly degrading

summary: y/n had always had a crush on Logan. not the worst Logan, but her timeline Logan. sadly, he died, and now she was stuck with this variant Wade had brought back home. sharing an apartment with an asshole was bad enough, but sharing one with an attractive, cocky, asshole, was far worse. especially when he knew how he made you feel.

note: this story will be the worst Logan. as always, he’s grumpy, and just an open asshole who thinks he’s better than the people he’s around.

———

“Who do you think you are?” Y/n looked up into the man’s eyes with anger, upset that he wouldn’t let her leave the apartment to go out with her friends. She goes out every weekend, and every weekend, he tries to stop her.

“Wade’s gone, and you’re out again — What are you hiding, y/n?” Logan asked, knowing whatever she did was none of her business. “I’m the legal age to drink and club, and you’re in my business about it? — Let me go,” y/n tried taking her arm away.

“You don’t pay for the bills here. Wade does, and-“ Logan tried making up some story about how disrespectful she would be to do what she wants. “And, Wade doesn’t give a shit. What now? I’m a grown woman. I could have a whole family if I wanted to, and you’re trying to trap me in the apartment like I’m some teen,”

“You don’t need to be out there, y/n,” Logan said, knowing what she goes out there for. He couldn’t stand it. Usually, when he teased women and they played hard to get, they didn’t just go out and party. Y/n did, and he couldn’t handle that.

“Get off of me, or I burn you,” y/n threatened as her body temperature heartened. “I’ll heal, and I don’t think you want to deal with me after I do,” Logan threatened as he moved his face inches from hers.

Within seconds, the man let go of how hot her skin was getting. Y/n instantly turned around and left to get out and away from the man who was trying his best to control her.

Fast-forward several hours, y/n finally returned from the nightclub she had attended with her lady friends. Many hours of drinking and plenty of hours of kissing random men had accrued that night.

That only made Logan’s blood boil as he watched every second of it pass by. He debated on lashing out at her every time she went to the bathroom, but when she went, she was always with a girl-friend.

The older man had to suffer for hours as the woman he’d been dying to have, had been kissing other men.

He couldn’t understand why y/n was so stuck up. Last he checked, women lived them rude and cocky. What happened in this timeline?

“Finally home,” Logan spoke in the corner of the darkroom as y/n stumbled into the apartment. She instantly rolled her eyes and sighed as she kicked off her shoes, barely being able to open her eyes or stand correctly.

“Gonna at least speak to me? Or are you too pissy drunk?” Logan asked, knowing which one it was. “That’s what I thought,” the man shook his head as he got up to walk toward her, but she paid no attention and made her way to her room.

“You didn’t even lock the door!” Logan shouted after her, but she ignored him, barely able to think about anything that was happening around her. Once she left the club with loud music, that was it for her.

Logan locked the front door and straightened up the shoes she kicked off on the front mat before he made his way toward her room. The man went to open her door, but she had locked it to shut him out for the night.

Logan sat in his room for a good hour, thinking about the way he should handle y/n. Should he kick her door down and yell at her? Should he talk to her from outside of her room? Should he wait to bring it up tomorrow? Or should he never speak of tonight?

Through the hour, he also thought about those men she let touch all over her and explore her mouth. He swore he’s never been too pissed off about a woman in his life.

It’s almost like she knew he was there to rub it in his face, and if that was the case, and he were to ever find out, he wouldn’t know how far he’d get upset.

All the men she kissed tonight waited for her, like some dog. It’s like Logan could see them a mile away. Why did she choose them, and not him? Logan was the real man here, not them.

“Fuck that,” Logan growled low as he pushed off of his bed and made his way out of his room. The man walked down the small hall before kicking y/n’s door open, causing her to jolt a bit in her sleep.

“Get up,” Logan demanded, but she barely understood him. She was still drunk, and now half asleep and in her dream. “What?” Y/n asked low as she saw the huge man make his way towards her.

“Up!” Logan demanded again before he ripped her cover off. “Hey-“ y/n went to say before Logan grabbed and pulled her up until she was seated in her bed. “Logan, what’s the deal?” Y/n asked, always irritated as he shifted her bottom to the edge of the bed.

“I want you to tell me if they mattered,” Logan spoke, only confused y/n. “What-“ y/n tried saying before Logan ripped her panties off. She had only worse panties and a bra to sleep in tonight instead of a nightgown like she usually wears. She was far too drunk to go through her drawers and find one.

“Hey,” y/n said as she went to push Logan’s fingers away that she rubbed across her heat. “You’re not even wet — They couldn’t have been that good, then,” Logan’s delusion fully kicked in before he stuck to fingers deep into y/n’s mouth.

Y/n tried pulling away and shaking her head, but Logan continued until his fingers were soaked with her saliva.

“Don’t bitch if it goes in dry then,” Logan said before he pushed two fingers at her entrance. “Hey, no-“ y/n went to stop him, but her voice cracked out as her hands stayed in shock right next to her thighs.

The young lady gripped her sheets as Logan curled his two fingers inside of her. “At least you’re empty — Maybe you’re not such a slut after all,” Logan said as y/n whined at the instant feeling of her stomach tightening.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Am I too big? — Fuck, I haven’t even put my dick in you yet,” Logan chuckled as he began to push his fingers in and out of her heat, focusing on her moans and the way she gripped around him.

“L-Lo-L-Lo,” y/n stuttered as she tried her best to keep herself up. “Lo-Lo-Lo — Fucking pathetic,” Logan mocked the girl as he looked into her eyes. She could barely hold them open as Logan played inside of her.

“No more,” y/n cried low as she felt herself near, upset that she wasn’t pushing the man off. She was strong enough to get rid of Logan, but something in her didn’t want him to stop this.

“You didn’t tell those little boys to stop — What makes you think I’ll fucking stop? Huh? — Ian stoppin’ princess,” Logan assured y/n, only making her roll her eyes, fully turned on by the way he was treating her.

For so long, y/n has been waiting for Logan to show just how cocky and asshole-like he could get. Finally, tonight, he decided to let it out.

With her being drunk, she couldn’t love this even more. There was nothing she could do about the way she was about to gush all over him.

“I’m gonna cum,” y/n said low as she fell back onto her mattress, getting ready to give Logan what he was trying so desperately to get from her. “There you go — Relax that body — Give it to me, Bub,” and with that, she did.

Y/n’s body locked up for a few seconds before shaking. Logan couldn’t help but laugh at her to taunt the way she got because of him. “Look at how I get you,”

Logan licked himself after he pulled out of y/n, making sure to get a treat for himself. That had triggered his mind to pick her up and take her to his room to continue eating her out.

“Get those fucking hands away from me, or I’ll make you count till ten,” Logan threatened after y/n tried pushing his head away from her heat. “No more — Please,” y/n begged the man as she took deep gasps.

All Logan did was chuckle into her heat, knowing he had too many more orgasms to go.

[halfmoonaria]

change of plans

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara was going to take care of it—end things for good—but nothing went the way she planned.

word count: 9.6k

warnings: dark themes, murder intent, violence, strong language, intrusive thoughts, implied stalking.

Tara didn't think she was a jealous person.

She was sure of it, actually.

Jealousy wasn't something she dealt with, at least not in the same way other people did. She told herself she wasn't the type to stew over what someone else had or waste time feeling resentful.

But looking back, there were moments—small, fleeting ones—that didn't quite fit the version of herself she liked to believe in.

When she was little, the first spark of that unfamiliar emotion would hit when someone snatched a toy out of her hands. It wasn't sadness or disappointment—it was sharper, hotter, and before she even realized what she was doing, she'd yank the toy back, sometimes with enough force to send the other kid stumbling.

She didn't mean to hurt them, not really, but the instinct to make things fair—or at least fair by her standards—was too strong to ignore.

Her teachers called it "trouble controlling her temper." Her mom called it a "phase." But it kept happening.

There was the time in first grade when another girl in her class got to play the fairy princess during dress-up. Tara had been stuck with the frog costume.

She'd sulked in the corner, watching the other girl twirl around in sparkly wings, until something inside her snapped. The girl didn't see it coming when Tara stomped up, grabbed the glittery wand, and broke it clean in two.

She didn't even regret it until she was sitting in the principal's office with her mom glaring at her from across the room.

By the time she was nine, Tara had lost count of how many times she'd been dragged to the teacher's office. Sometimes it was for yanking a classmate's hair after they showed off a new toy she didn't have. Other times, it was for shoving someone too hard during recess when she thought they were bragging about something they shouldn't have.

Her teachers always asked the same question: "Why did you do it, Tara?"

She never had a good answer.

Her mom tried everything—calming techniques, time-outs, grounding her from TV or playdates—but none of it worked.

The truth was, Tara didn't know why it bothered her so much when someone else got what she wanted. All she knew was that the feeling burned in her chest, hot and heavy, until she had to do something to let it out.

She couldn't pinpoint what the feeling was, not even as she got older—when she was supposed to be able to handle her emotions better, to control the bursts of anger and the bubbling rage that seemed to come out of nowhere.

It wasn't jealousy though. She was sure of that.

Jealousy felt petty, childish, like something people dealt with in middle school when they saw someone else wearing the same pair of shoes but in a better color. Tara wasn't petty, and she definitely wasn't childish. At least, that's what she told herself every time the heat rose to her face, her fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms, and her vision blurred with that same fiery haze she'd felt since kindergarten.

It didn't make sense to call it jealousy. Jealousy implied weakness, didn't it? Like you couldn't be happy for someone else because you wanted what they had. Tara didn't think she wanted what anyone else had—she just hated the idea that they had it at all.

She didn't think it was anywhere close to jealousy—not until Chad broke up with her.

At first, all she felt was heartbreak, raw and overwhelming, the kind of sadness that made her chest feel hollow and heavy all at once. There was anger too, bubbling beneath the surface, but she pushed it down, unwilling to let him see that part of her. Tara told herself that staying calm was the only way to keep control of the situation, even as she listened to him try to explain himself.

He had said he didn't feel the same anymore, that something between them had changed. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but he no longer felt the love they once had. His voice had been quiet, hesitant, as if he didn't want to hurt her more than he already was. He told her it wasn't her fault, that she'd been a great girlfriend and that he still cared about her.

The words sounded like they should've been comforting, but they weren't. They only made her feel worse. Love didn't just disappear, did it? And if it did, what did that say about her? She couldn't wrap her head around how everything could change so quickly, how something that had seemed so solid could slip through her fingers without warning.

For days after the breakup, she replayed his words in her mind, searching for some clue, some sign she might have missed. The sadness lingered, a constant ache she couldn't shake, and when the anger flared, she shoved it back down where it belonged. It wouldn't change anything, and it wouldn't bring him back.

At first, she thought heartbreak was all she'd have to contend with. But then, as the days stretched into weeks, another feeling began to creep in—something darker, sharper, and impossible to ignore.

That dark, sharper, and impossible-to-ignore feeling had only grown worse. In fact, it had become unbearable when she saw Chad a few weeks later.

With you.

She hadn't been prepared for it. In hindsight, maybe she should've been. They had gone to the same school—it had only been a matter of time before she ran into him again. But Tara hadn't expected him to look so... fine. Like nothing had happened. Like breaking up with her hadn't fazed him in the slightest. And she especially hadn't expected to see him with someone else.

You had been standing next to him near the lockers, your body slightly turned toward his as you spoke. She hadn't been able to hear what you were saying, but whatever it had been, it had made him laugh. That same, familiar laugh that had once been hers to hear.

Her chest had tightened, the weight of it pressing down on her like a physical force. It had been the first time she had seen him since the breakup, and heartbreak hadn't been what she had felt then. No, it had been something else entirely. It had been hot and all-consuming, curling its way through her like wildfire.

Her gaze had locked on the way you had reached out, your fingers briefly brushing his arm as you spoke. It had been such a casual, effortless gesture, but to Tara, it had felt deliberate. She had clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she had struggled to steady her breathing.

She hadn't wanted to look at you. She hadn't wanted to acknowledge the way your presence, your closeness to Chad, had made her feel. But she hadn't been able to tear her eyes away.

It hadn't been fair. Chad wasn't supposed to move on so quickly. He wasn't supposed to look this happy, not when she had still been trying to piece herself back together. And you—God, you hadn't been supposed to be so... perfect. So at ease, standing there with him like you had belonged.

Tara's stomach had churned, a bitter taste rising in her throat. The feeling bubbling inside her had been almost painfully familiar, a twisted echo of the jealousy she had felt as a child.

She could still remember the heat of it, the way it had burned through her tiny body when someone had gotten the last cookie in class or taken the swing she had wanted on the playground.

Back then, her jealousy had been wild and unrestrained, often spilling out as anger—pushing, hitting, shouting until someone had intervened.

But this hadn't been the same. She wasn't a kid anymore, and she had known better than to lash out. And yet, the anger had simmered beneath the surface, waiting for her to slip, to let it spill over.

Her jaw had tightened as she had forced herself to look away, her fists clenching at her sides. Chad hadn't been hers anymore, she had reminded herself, no matter how much she had wanted him to be.

She hadn't had the right to feel this way, to be so consumed by jealousy over someone who had clearly moved on.

But knowing that hadn't made it stop. The jealousy had still been there, sharp and unrelenting, twisting inside her like a knife.

It had dug in deeper with every passing day, lodging itself in a part of her she didn't know how to reach, let alone remove.

It didn't help that Tara knew exactly who you were. Of course she did—everyone in Woodsboro seemed to know everyone.

The town was too small for anyone to go unnoticed, their business too easily whispered about or pieced together.

She had known who you were since kindergarten, though, in moments like these, it felt like a cruel twist of fate that you hadn't been one of the kids she'd shoved in a fit of childish rage.

Maybe if you had been, she wouldn't feel so powerless now. She could have at least claimed to have gotten her frustration out once, a long time ago. But no. You had been one of the few to escape her younger wrath, and somehow that made this worse.

It wasn't just that, though. Tara couldn't think about you without hearing her mother's voice in the back of her mind, muttering something about how she wished Tara were "more like you."

Her mother said things like that about plenty of kids, especially when Tara landed herself in trouble at school. But the way she spoke about you had always felt different—like she meant it.

You were polite, diligent, the kind of kid parents liked to hold up as an example. Tara had hated it back then, hearing those comparisons tossed her way whenever she acted out. Now, remembering it made her blood boil.

You weren't a stranger to her. Not really. How could you be when Wes had spent all of middle school hopelessly infatuated with you? His crush had been embarrassingly obvious, even to people who weren't paying attention.

Tara remembered the way he'd stumble through his sentences whenever you so much as glanced in his direction. How he'd linger near your locker as though working up the courage to say something, only to turn red and scurry off when Amber caught him at it.

Amber had loved teasing him for it. She'd nudge his arm and whisper loud enough for everyone to hear, calling him love-struck and pitiful. And Tara? She'd roll her eyes and laugh right along with her.

She hadn't understood the appeal back then. Sure, you were nice. Polite, from what people said. But to Tara, you'd just been another person in the hallways, someone she could name but not care much about. Wes's hopeless pining had been little more than background noise to her.

But now... now that memory left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Not that she'd ever had a real problem with you. If anything, she'd been indifferent toward you all these years. You were nice, she supposed. Everyone said so, and it wasn't hard to believe.

You dressed well enough to stand out without trying too hard, cared enough about your grades to keep them respectable, and generally managed to avoid any kind of trouble. There wasn't much about you that people could complain about.

Tara hadn't spoken to you much. Maybe a couple of times, when group projects forced you together or when politeness demanded it. But it had never gone beyond that, never lingered in a way that mattered. You were a passing presence, just one of the many faces she'd seen over the years, easily forgotten once you were out of sight.

At least, that was how it used to be.

Now, it felt like you were everywhere. And worse, you weren't just a face in the crowd anymore. You were always laughing, always smiling, always looking so damn perfect. And you weren't alone. You were with Chad. His arm slung around your shoulders like you were his.

And that, Tara couldn't ignore.

You were with her Chad. Her boyfriend.

Or at least, that's what her mind insisted on calling him, despite the breakup. Despite everything. He was still hers. He had to be. There was no way he wasn't, not when she could still feel the ghost of his hand in hers, not when her chest tightened every time she thought about him laughing at something you said. It wasn't right. It didn't feel right.

You didn't belong under his arm like that. You didn't belong anywhere near him.

Tara's jaw clenched as the image burned itself deeper into her memory: the way his arm had draped over your shoulders so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't. It couldn't be. That spot was hers—had been hers for so long that seeing anyone else there made her stomach twist with something jagged and unbearable.

And it didn't help that you didn't even look good there. Not to her, anyway. You didn't fit the way she did. You didn't mold into his side like you belonged there, not like she had. Chad was tall, broad-shouldered, and Tara had always thought they looked balanced together. She'd fit neatly under his arm, a perfect complement to his size and presence. You? You just looked... wrong.

At least, that's what she told herself as her eyes lingered on you for too long, darting between the way you smiled at him and the way he smiled back at you.

Her chest tightened further, the edges of her jealousy sharpening with every second.

She tried to tell herself not to care. Really, she did. She told herself that it didn't matter anymore, that Chad wasn't hers, that this—whatever this was—wasn't her business. He had every right to move on. She even tried repeating it in her head, like some kind of mantra: It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.

But it didn't work. It never worked.

It wasn't just the jealousy, though that was certainly the loudest emotion screaming in her chest. It was the helplessness that came with it. The same helplessness she'd felt back in kindergarten, when that dark, fiery feeling had bubbled up inside her and she hadn't known what to do with it. Back then, she'd pushed people, shoved them, let her rage and frustration spill out in any way it could.

Now? Now she was older. Supposedly more mature. She was supposed to be able to handle her emotions, wasn't she? But standing there, watching Chad lean into you, laugh at something you said like it was the funniest thing in the world, Tara felt that same fiery frustration rise in her chest.

She didn't shove people anymore—didn't let that dark feeling spill out like she used to—but that didn't mean it wasn't still there, simmering just below the surface. And now, as she stood frozen in the hallway, all of it��every last ounce of it—was directed at you.

Because you didn't belong there.

You didn't belong with Chad.

You didn't belong in the picture she still couldn't stop replaying in her head: you laughing at something he said, him pulling you closer, the two of you looking... happy.

Tara bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to taste blood. She told herself to turn away, to stop looking, to let it go. But it was impossible. Just like it had been when she was five years old, that feeling burned too brightly, clawed at her too viciously to ignore.

And now, as she stared at you from across the hallway, she realized she didn't know how to make it stop.

She couldn't stop seeing it—couldn't stop feeling it. You and him. It was burned into her mind, an image so vivid it felt like it had been seared there with a branding iron. Every time she closed her eyes, it was there. You and Chad. Laughing together. Holding hands. Kissing.

Tara's hands clenched into fists at her sides. She hated it. She hated you.

She hated the way you were always smiling, like you didn't have a care in the world. She hated the way you stood so close to him every day, the way his arm so casually rested on your shoulders. She hated the way you looked at him, and the way he looked at you. Like you were the only person in the room. Like you were perfect.

You weren't even that cute. That's what she tried to tell herself, over and over again. You weren't anything special. There were plenty of other girls in Woodsboro prettier than you, smarter than you, more interesting than you.

But it was a lie.

Because you were beautiful.

You were effortlessly beautiful in a way that made Tara's stomach churn. She hated the fact that she couldn't use your looks as an excuse. She hated how good you looked with Chad, how perfect you seemed together, how easy it was to see why he'd chosen you.

And that made her hatred burn even brighter.

Most nights, she couldn't sleep. The second her head hit the pillow, her mind would start spinning, and the thoughts would creep in—dark, ugly thoughts that wrapped around her like a vice. She could see it so clearly, almost like it was happening right in front of her.

You touching him in places she was supposed to touch. You undressing him, his hands roaming over your body instead of hers. You kissing him, making him moan, sitting on top of him—doing all the things she was supposed to do.

It made her blood boil. It made her want to scream.

The images were relentless, vivid and visceral, and every one of them felt like a knife twisting deeper into her chest. Sometimes, the anger was so sharp it made her want to claw at her own skin, like she could rip the feeling out of herself if she just tried hard enough.

But no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to push the thoughts away, they always came back. They stayed with her, haunting her like a ghost she couldn't escape.

And every time, the hatred burned hotter.

It wasn't fair. You weren't supposed to have him. You weren't supposed to be in his arms, weren't supposed to hear his laugh up close, weren't supposed to know what his lips felt like. You didn't deserve any of it. You didn't deserve him.

He was hers. He'd always been hers.

But now, he wasn't.

And it was all because of you.

And this wasn't like any other time. Not even close.

Tara had always known her temper was a problem. She'd been told that enough times growing up—by her teachers, by her mom, by anyone who'd had the misfortune of crossing her when she was angry. But this? This was different.

She'd never felt this way before.

She'd tried everything to stop it, to keep herself from unraveling. Everything her mom had suggested back when she'd first started noticing how intense Tara's outbursts could be. Taking deep breaths, counting to ten, picturing a happy place—none of it worked. It never had.

And when her mom's suggestions fell flat, Tara had turned to the internet, searching desperately for anything that might help. Techniques to control anger, ways to keep herself calm, tips to avoid losing her temper. She'd read every article she could find, watched every video, tried every trick. Not because she cared about managing her emotions—no, she just wanted to avoid her mom forcing her into some anger management program or therapy session she'd be stuck in for months.

But now? Now, she couldn't even pretend to have control. Nothing worked. Nothing.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin prickled with heat, and the jealousy burned so hot and sharp that she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. It wasn't just anger anymore. It was something else entirely, something darker and more consuming.

Tara felt insane.

Because no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to push it down or ignore it, the feeling wouldn't go away. It wrapped around her like a second skin, suffocating and unbearable, until there was only one thought left in her mind:

She had to get rid of you.

It wasn't even a question anymore. It was a fact, plain and simple. There was no other way to fix this, no other way to make the feelings stop. You had to go.

At first, Tara thought about spreading a rumor or two. Nothing big, just enough to make you and Chad fight. Enough to plant a seed of doubt, to tear apart whatever connection you had with him. It sounded perfect at first—until she realized how easily it could blow up in her face.

Chad would figure it out eventually. He'd find out Tara was behind it, and then she'd lose any chance of getting him back.

She thought about telling you to leave, to move away, to go anywhere but here. But that was ridiculous. You'd never listen.

She thought about kidnapping you.

The thought came and went so quickly it almost startled her. For a split second, her mind flickered to the idea of forcing you out of the picture entirely, taking control in a way that left no room for argument.

But no. That was insane.

...Wasn't it?

Tara clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to hurt. She was spiraling. She knew it. But she couldn't stop.

Nothing else would work. Nothing except you being gone.

She didn't know how, she didn't know when, but Tara knew one thing with absolute certainty:

You couldn't stay.

You didn't belong here. You didn't belong with Chad. You didn't belong anywhere near him, near her, near this town.

You didn't belong anywhere.

And Tara? Tara was going to make sure of it.

She toyed with possibilities. But none of them seemed right.

Kidnapping you crossed her mind more than once though. Briefly.

But it was stupid, insane.

Because what would she do when she had you?

Just keep you there?

It seemed suiting, but it wouldn't work out.

But she couldn't help thinking it—if only because she was running out of options.

And then, the thought hit her. It came out of nowhere, sharp and sudden, like a knife to the gut.

She could kill you.

At first, the thought had hit her like a slap to the face, sharp and jarring in its absurdity. It had seemed insane. Because it was insane. What kind of person even thought something like that, let alone seriously considered it?

But as the days dragged on, the idea didn't fade. If anything, it took root. The more Tara thought about it, the less insane it seemed. Her anger, that relentless, boiling rage, started to simmer. It didn't disappear entirely—not even close—but it

lessened.

For the first time in weeks, she could breathe.

The idea itself was enough at first. She didn't need to act on it. Just thinking about it was enough to bring her some semblance of peace. She let the fantasy play out in her mind like a sick little movie: you, out of the picture, gone forever. It didn't matter how or when—just that it happened.

And for a few days, she was happy with just that. She let herself exist in that space, in the calm that came with imagining a world where you didn't exist. A weekend of relative peace, of daydreams that made her anger feel manageable.

But then Monday came.

And Tara saw you again.

You were standing in the hallway, smiling up at Chad like he was the only person in the world. His arm was slung casually around your shoulders, his head tilted toward yours in that stupid, familiar way that made Tara's stomach twist.

It was like being set on fire all over again.

Her chest burned, her vision blurred, and that fleeting peace she'd found over the weekend vanished in an instant. The rage came roaring back, hotter and more vicious than ever, tearing through her like a wildfire.

Because the thought of you being gone wasn't enough anymore. Not when you were right there, so close, so perfect, so fucking smug without even trying.

Tara's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms until they left crescent-shaped indents. Her jaw tightened, her teeth grinding as she stared at you, as she watched you.

You didn't belong there. You didn't belong under his arm. You didn't belong anywhere near him.

And now? Now, Tara knew what she had to do.

It wasn't a matter of if anymore. It was a matter of when.

Because just thinking about it wasn't enough. Not anymore.

She was going to kill you.

And she was going to feel better for it.

___

Tara had everything prepared.

The thought of it had consumed her, growing like a rock inside her chest, feeding off her every waking moment until it was impossible to ignore.

And now, it was time.

She had spent days balancing on the edge of dread and longing, torn between the weight of what she was about to do and the twisted satisfaction she knew it would bring. It wasn't something she wanted—not really. But it was something she had to do. The only way to end the torment that had been eating away at her since the moment she saw you with him.

So Tara had done her research, gathering every scrap of information she could. She watched you closely—closer than ever. She had listened, observed, bided her time until the perfect opportunity revealed itself.

And it had.

It had been math class on Monday afternoon, and Tara had been lucky enough to snag a seat directly behind you and your friends. Normally, she would've tuned out your conversation entirely, drowning it in her thoughts. But this time, she had leaned in, careful to catch every word.

You'd been talking about the upcoming math test, about how you'd be studying for it Wednesday afternoon. Alone.

Your parents were going to be at some lame work conference, and they'd decided to take your younger brother along to make a trip out of it. You'd rolled your eyes as you explained how stupid it all sounded, but Tara hadn't cared about your opinion.

All she cared about was the opening.

You'd be home. Alone.

It was perfect.

Tara's pencil had hovered over her notebook as she pretended to take notes, but her mind wasn't on algebra. It was spinning with possibilities, with plans, with the kind of clarity that had eluded her for weeks.

When the bell rang and you left the room with your friends, Tara sat frozen in her seat for a moment, her fists clenched around the edge of her desk. The pounding in her chest felt louder than the shuffle of students leaving the classroom, louder than the voices in the hallway.

Because now, it wasn't just an idea.

It was a plan.

Wednesday. After school. It would be done.

And finally, finally, she would feel better.

Wednesday came, and Tara felt something she hadn't in weeks. Happiness.

It wasn't the fleeting, muted kind that came and went without leaving a trace. No, this was sharp, visceral, alive. She could feel it buzzing beneath her skin, coiling around her chest like a warm, electric current.

She didn't remember the last time she'd woken up this excited. It was like every nerve in her body had been lit aflame, pushing her through the motions of her morning routine with a sense of purpose she hadn't felt in so long.

Because today was the day.

Every second that ticked by brought her closer to it. To you. To the end of the endless cycle of rage and jealousy that had consumed her. She could picture it already—vivid, perfect, satisfying.

You'd be scared, of course. How could you not be? She imagined the way your eyes would widen, the way you'd stammer out a pathetic plea. You'd try to push her off, scramble for an escape, but it wouldn't work.

It wouldn't work because you were weak. You weren't like her. You didn't know what it meant to fight, to claw your way through something until you got what you wanted. You'd crumble like paper.

And then you'd be gone.

She could see the aftermath so clearly it almost felt real. Chad, walking through the school corridors alone, his shoulders slumped with the weight of grief. His face twisted in pain as he thought about you.

And then—then he'd come back to her. He had to. It was inevitable, wasn't it? He'd remember how good things were with her, how much better they could be now that you were out of the picture. He'd pull himself to her, broken but needing her to put him back together.

It was all Tara could think about.

The entire day felt like a blur, her mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. Teachers droned on and on about tests and essays, classmates chatted about meaningless things, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except what was waiting for her after school.

And yet, the anger was still there.

It simmered beneath the surface, coiled tight in her chest, a constant reminder that nothing was done yet. You were still there, still laughing and smiling and making her blood boil with every second that passed.

In English class, she caught sight of you leaning over Chad's desk, your voice low as you explained something to him. Grammar, maybe. Whatever it was, Tara didn't care.

What she cared about was the way he was looking at you. That stupid, soft smile, the same one he used to give her.

It made her stomach turn.

You didn’t even know what you were doing, she thought bitterly, her fists clenching beneath her desk. You didn't know him. You didn't know how to help him, not like she did. You weren't supposed to be there, leaning over his shoulder, pointing at his textbook like you had any idea what you were doing.

Tara's jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together as she stared at the two of you.

But it was fine. It wouldn't matter soon enough.

By the time the final bell rang, she was practically buzzing with anticipation, her hands trembling as she shoved her books into her bag.

Because today was the day.

And by the time it was over, you'd be gone. Forever.

By the time last period rolled around, Tara could barely contain herself. She was bouncing her leg under the desk, the rapid up-and-down movement making the surface wobble slightly. It wasn't stress, though. Not even close.

It was excitement.

Because in just a few hours, everything would be different. You'd be gone.

She'd spent the entire day anticipating this moment, and now that it was so close, she could hardly breathe. Her chest felt tight, but not in the way it used to when the anger consumed her. This was something else—something electric, like a firework waiting to explode.

When the bell finally rang for the last time that day, Tara practically shot out of her seat. Her heart was pounding, her pulse thrumming in her ears as she sprinted to her locker, dodging through the crowded hallway like her life depended on it.

She grabbed her things in a flurry, barely paying attention to what she was stuffing into her bag. The details didn't matter. Nothing mattered except getting out of there as quickly as possible.

The walk home was a blur. She couldn't even remember the route she took, but she knew it was fast because she'd gotten there in record time. She practically burst through the door of the apartment, slamming it shut behind her with a force that rattled the frame.

The space was empty, just as she'd hoped. Sam wasn't home, probably still at the café down the street where she worked long shifts most afternoons.

Tara didn't waste any time. She stormed into her room, yanking her bag off her shoulder and dumping its contents onto the bed. Books, hair ties, pens, and random scraps of paper spilled out in a messy heap. She didn't bother organizing any of it, her focus locked on what came next.

She started packing what she'd need instead.

First came the basics: a pair of gloves she'd swiped from the closet, a small hand towel, and a few cleaning supplies she'd found under the sink. Just in case.

Then there was the book. She'd borrowed it from the library earlier that day, an afterthought at the time, but now it served a purpose. If anyone asked what she'd been doing when you turned up dead, she'd have an alibi.

And then there was the knife.

Tara headed to the kitchen, her hands trembling slightly as she opened the drawer where Sam kept the cutlery. She stared at the knives for a moment, her breathing shallow as she considered her options.

Finally, she picked one.

It wasn't the largest or the sharpest, but it felt solid in her grip. Familiar, almost.

She held it for a moment, staring down at the blade as it caught the light. Her reflection stared back at her, warped and fragmented in the metal, but she didn't flinch.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before tucking the knife into her bag.

This was it.

She was ready.

Tara zipped her bag shut and slung it over her shoulder, not even sparing a second thought for the knife or the other incriminating items inside. Evidence of what was about to happen was tucked away in plain sight, but the thought didn't concern her. Why would it? She wasn't going to get caught.

She paused in the doorway of the apartment, pulling out her phone to double-check the address one last time. It was burned into her memory by now, but a quick glance wouldn't hurt. She'd found it easily enough a week ago, scouring the school directory that had been left out in the counselor's office during one of her "mandatory check-ins." Your address had been listed next to your emergency contacts, all neatly typed out.

Perfect.

Satisfied, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and stepped out into the hallway. The stairwell echoed with her footsteps as she made her way down, each step slow and deliberate. She wasn't in a rush. Not yet.

The walk to your house wasn't short, but it wasn't unbearably long either. Just far enough to give her plenty of time to think, to imagine, to savor the anticipation building in her chest like a drug.

Tara was thrilled.

Not just because of what she was about to do, but because of how clever she'd been about it. The idea had struck her like lightning, and the more she thought about it, the more genius it seemed. She wasn't just solving a problem—she was removing it, erasing it entirely.

As she walked, her thoughts grew darker, more vivid. She pictured you in front of her, on your knees, crying and begging her to stop. But she wouldn't stop. She'd pin you down with a strength you couldn't fight against, her hands steady, her resolve unshakable.

Her gaze flicked down to her white Converse, and she pictured them splattered with red. Blood staining the canvas, dripping onto the pavement, marking every step she took.

She imagined your blood on her hands, warm and slick, streaked across her fingers like war paint. She pictured your face as she hovered over you, the way your eyes would widen with fear, the way your mouth would open to scream—only to be silenced.

The image sent a thrill through her, a jolt of satisfaction that made her grin.

To anyone else, these thoughts would be horrifying. Disturbing. Insane.

But to Tara, they were... liberating.

She couldn't wait.

Tara had dreamt about this moment. Every detail had been mapped out in her mind, as vivid and meticulous as if it had already happened. She hadn't missed a single thing while planning it.

She knew exactly how it would go.

You'd answer the door, your steps light as they always seemed to be. When the door swung open, you'd greet her with that confused little smile, the one that would tug at the corner of your lips as you tried to figure out what she was doing there.

She could already imagine the polite mask you'd pull on, hiding the confusion behind your soft smile as you asked—probably in that gentle, saccharine voice Chad loved so much—what she was doing at your house.

And Tara would match your politeness, feigning a warm, almost apologetic smile as she began to speak. She'd tell you that you'd left the classroom before the teacher had a chance to hand you a paper—a makeup assignment for the math test you were apparently struggling with. She'd tell you how she'd volunteered to bring it to you, mentioning offhandedly that your house was "on the way" to hers.

It wasn't.

But you were probably stupid enough to believe it.

Tara could almost see the way you'd nod, your suspicion melting away as you stepped aside to let her in. And that's when she'd set her plan into motion.

She'd unzip her bag slowly, her movements deliberate, casual, as if she really were pulling out a sheet of paper. She'd even keep talking, her voice calm, explaining how the assignment wasn't that difficult, just a review of material you should already know.

But when her hand came out of the bag, it wouldn't be holding any paper.

It would be holding the knife.

The image was so clear in her mind, so vivid that it felt real. She could see the shock on your face, the way your smile would drop, the way your eyes would widen. She'd let you stand there, frozen and clueless, for just a moment before she lunged.

The first stab would be quick, precise. She'd aim for your stomach, the blade plunging in before you had a chance to react. And as you stumbled back, clutching at the wound, she'd step inside, closing the door behind her with her free hand.

It wouldn't stop there. It couldn't.

She'd keep going, stabbing again and again, her movements frenzied but deliberate, each strike fueled by the rage that had been festering inside her for weeks.

By the time you hit the floor, Tara would already be kneeling over you, her knife rising and falling with a terrifying rhythm.

She'd finish it. Completely.

Tara found herself smirking at the thought, her steps quickening as she neared your street. The plan played out in her head like a movie she'd already watched a hundred times, each scene perfectly clear, perfectly executed.

The thought of it all—the fear in your eyes, the blood on her hands, the peace that would finally follow—was almost enough to make her laugh.

By the time she reached your street, her smirk had settled into something more fixed, more certain. The weight of the knife in her bag wasn't something she second-guessed. There was no hesitation in her steps, no flicker of doubt in her mind. She had played this moment over so many times that it felt inevitable, like she was simply walking through a prewritten script.

And then she saw your house.

That perfect, suburban home—one of those places that looked like it had been plucked from a family sitcom. The kind of house where nothing bad was ever supposed to happen. The driveway was empty, just like it was supposed to be. No parents home. No witnesses. But that didn't matter.

What mattered was that you had all of this.

Tara felt her stomach twist in something that wasn't quite anger, wasn't quite jealousy, but a poisonous mix of both. The house itself was nice—not a mansion, but big enough that she knew you had space that was yours. No sharing. No constantly moving from one place to another. You had stability. The porch light was already on despite the sun still clinging to the sky, because you had parents who actually cared if you got home in the dark.

Parents who were probably normal.

Not like hers.

And it wasn't just the house. It was everything. The car parked on the curb—the one that she knew was yours and not some shared family vehicle. The way your front yard was neatly kept, the way there was a welcome mat in front of the door, the way it all screamed a life she never had.

It made her hate you even more.

But that hate only made her more certain. Because soon, none of it would matter. Your perfect house, your caring parents, your stupid little car—they would all be meaningless.

Soon, the only thing you'd have was a gravestone with your name carved into it.

And that made her happy.

Tara forced herself to relax as she walked up the front steps, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. She let out a slow breath, schooling her expression into something neutral. She wasn't just about to commit murder—no, she was just a classmate doing a favor, dropping off an assignment.

The thought almost made her laugh.

She reached the front door, lifting a fist and knocking twice against the wood.

The house was quiet. Peaceful.

But soon, Tara imagined, it would be fuller.

Fuller with screams.

And then—she heard it.

A soft, thoughtless hum from the other side of the door. Light, airy, clueless.

Her hands twitched at her sides, damp with sweat before she even realized it. A sick, twisted heat pooled in her stomach, curling around her ribs like a vice, because for the first time all day, something foreign crawled up her spine.

Nerves.

Real, undeniable, nerves.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

No. No. That wasn't right. She had waited for this.

She had planned, dreamed, prepared for this exact moment. She was supposed to feel good. Excited.

Not like this.

Not like her body had turned against her.

Tara's jaw tightened, anger sparking white-hot beneath her skin, because that was your fault, too.

Of course, it was.

You were the one who made her feel this way. You were the reason her mind had been tangled in knots for weeks, the reason she couldn't breathe without choking on the thought of you, the reason everything felt so wrong.

And that was why she was here.

She sucked in a sharp breath, planting her feet firmly on the doorstep, pushing the shaking from her hands, the sweat from her palms.

Because it didn't matter.

It didn't matter that her heart was hammering against her ribs. It didn't matter that her mind was racing.

All that mattered was that you were coming.

And then—

A quiet shuffle of footsteps.

Closer.

Tara's stomach twisted.

Another step.

And another.

The shadow of movement from behind the glass.

And then—

The door clicked as the lock turned.

The handle shifted.

And Tara stopped breathing.

The door swung open.

And there you were.

Tara didn't know what she had expected. She had run through this moment in her head too many times to count, had pictured every detail—the way you'd react, the way she'd feel, the way it would finally happen. But none of those versions had prepared her for the real thing.

Because the real thing was you—standing there, so normal, so alive in a way that made something tighten in her chest.

You hadn't even looked to see who it was before your lips curled into a soft, polite smile, like answering the door and finding someone waiting for you was just another part of your evening. Like she was just another part of your evening.

And Tara—

Tara froze.

Her grip tightened around the strap of her bag, fingers stiff, nails pressing into her palm. The weight of it suddenly felt too heavy, dragging her down, pinning her in place.

You weren't looking at her yet, not fully, but she could see the moment it registered. The way your eyes flickered, widening just a little before settling, before you adjusted.

Tara swallowed hard, throat dry.

She hadn't planned for this—for the way time seemed to slow, for the way her pulse slammed against her ribs, not in anger but in something else, something unreadable. She had prepared for every possible scenario, had thought through every single step. She knew exactly what she had to do.

So why the fuck wasn't she doing it?

Why was she standing there, frozen, when this was exactly what she had been waiting for?

Her stomach twisted, a sick, sudden nausea creeping in.

She had to say something.

She had to move.

But she just stood there, staring.

It was like her body had short-circuited, her mind blanking out in a way it never did. She had pictured this moment a hundred times, had mapped it out in her head with a precision so sharp it felt real—but now? Now, standing in front of you, with your stupid soft smile and your wide, expectant eyes, everything felt wrong.

She was supposed to have control.

She was supposed to speak first.

But before she could force a single word out of her mouth—

"Oh my God, Tara!"

Your voice hit her like a slap to the face.

Not just because of the voice—bright, warm, too friendly for what this moment was meant to be—but because of how you said her name.

Wrong.

You stretched out the A like it belonged there, like you had never even considered the right way to say it.

Tara's stomach twisted, her nose scrunching slightly before she could stop it.

She hated when people did that.

It wasn't even complicated. It wasn't hard.

Tara. Short. Sharp. Simple.

Why the fuck would it be anything else?

But then—before she could even say anything, before she could snap at you the way she wanted to—you noticed.

Not in the way most people did.

You didn't fumble over yourself, didn't look nervous, didn't react like someone who had just made a mistake in front of the wrong person.

No.

You just... realized.

"Oh—sorry. It's Tara, right?"

And this time, you said it right.

Tara felt something hot crawl up her spine.

You didn't wait for her to correct you.

You didn’t need her to tell you you were wrong.

You figured it out on your own.

And yet, you still smiled.

"I'm sorry, I totally suck at names," you added, your voice easy, a small, amused sigh slipping through a quiet giggle.

A giggle.

Like this was nothing.

Like you weren't standing in your doorway, staring at someone who had come here to kill you.

Tara's grip on her bag tightened.

You weren't nervous.

Not even a little.

Why weren't you nervous?

You were supposed to be. Yet she was the one that was.

Tara didn't know what the fuck was happening to her.

This wasn't right.

She was supposed to be in control. She was supposed to be sharp, precise, already halfway inside your house by now, setting her plan into motion.

But instead, she stood there.

Frozen.

Silent.

She couldn't speak.

Her body acted before her mind caught up, lips pressing together in something barely resembling a smile. Thin. Tense. Fake.

"It's fine," she mumbled, her voice lower than she intended.

It wasn't fine.

Nothing about this was fine.

And yet, you still didn't ask her what she was doing here.

You didn't look suspicious. You didn't hesitate. You didn't ask.

Tara could feel something bubbling in her chest, frustration twisting in with something else, something hotter, sharper.

Why weren't you asking?

Why weren't you wary?

Why weren't you treating her like a stranger who had no reason to be on your doorstep?

But before she could dwell on it for too long, your face lit up even more—

And you started talking.

"I've actually been wanting to speak to you for a while."

Your voice was too warm. Too light.

Tara's jaw clenched.

"This whole thing with Chad..."

You trailed off, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear, tilting your head ever so slightly as your eyes flicked to her face—

Waiting.

Waiting to see if she reacted to his name.

And fuck, she did.

She hated that she did.

But you didn't seem to notice.

Or maybe you did, but you didn't care.

You just continued, words spilling out like you had been holding them in for too long.

"I wanted to ask if you guys were fine before... yeah, you know."

Tara didn't need you to finish that sentence.

She knew exactly what you meant.

Before you.

Before Chad moved on.

Before you ruined everything.

Her nails dug into the strap of her bag.

And still, you didn't stop talking.

"I know we're not friends and barely know each other," you admitted, still looking at her with that same softness. That genuine fucking softness that made her stomach twist in ways it shouldn't.

"But you're really nice," you went on.

Tara almost laughed at that.

Nice.

You thought she was nice.

And then—

"I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable or, you know... secretly hate me."

The way you said it was almost casual, like it was just a thought, something light, something small—

But Tara felt her heartbeat slam against her ribs.

You didn't know.

You had no idea.

And for the first time since she got here, she felt a flicker of something close to panic.

You didn't hate her.

You weren't afraid of her.

You thought she was nice.

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that?

Tara tried to reason with herself.

If she just did it now, everything would be fine.

If she just said what she planned to say, if she reached for her bag, if she pulled out the knife instead—

It would be over.

It would be done.

You would be nothing but a mess on the floor, and Chad would be devastated, and he would come crawling back, and everything would go back to how it was supposed to be.

So why wasn't she moving?

Her fingers twitched against the strap of her bag, but her body stayed rooted to the spot.

She wanted to.

Oh, how she wanted to.

She had dreamed about this moment.

Had imagined the way you'd look at her—terrified, confused, realizing too late what was about to happen.

She had longed for it.

And yet—

She couldn't.

For some stupid, inexplicable reason, she couldn't.

Something in her wouldn't let her.

What the fuck was she even thinking earlier?

Why did she think this would be easy?

Why did she think she could just walk up here and do it like it was nothing?

Her head felt too full, a war raging behind her eyes, pushing, pulling, twisting.

She wasn't supposed to hesitate.

She wasn't supposed to second-guess herself.

She was supposed to kill you.

So why was it suddenly feeling impossible?

You studied her face as she stood there, silent.

To you, it probably looked like she was still hurt over Chad.

Like she was standing here, struggling to find the right words, caught up in old feelings she hadn't moved past yet.

And when she didn't answer, you didn't take it the way you should have.

You didn't question why she was just standing there.

You didn't wonder why she was looking at you like that, like something wasn't clicking in her head.

Instead—you invited her in.

You stepped back, opening the door a little wider, glancing at her with the same warm expression you had greeted her with.

"Do you want to come inside?"

Tara blinked.

For a second, she thought she misheard you.

But you weren't kidding.

You were actually letting her in.

You, the person she had been planning to kill, were offering to welcome her into your home.

You didn't even know her.

And when she didn't immediately respond, you just smiled a little and added, "Only if you want to."

That was it.

No hesitation. No suspicion. No fear.

Why weren't you scared of her?

Why weren't you acting like someone who was about to die?

Her fingers clenched tighter around the strap of her bag.

She should leave.

She should end this.

She should do what she came here to do.

And yet—

Almost without thinking, she found herself nodding.

Slowly, stiffly.

And then she was stepping inside.

Her body was acting on its own, ignoring the part of her mind still screaming at her to just fucking do it already.

She heard you close the door behind her.

She stood there, fists tightening at her sides, eyes flickering around your house—your nice, warm, safe house that made her sick.

And then you were talking again, so casually, so easily.

"I'm trying to study for the math test, but it's not going really well."

You let out a small, light laugh, like this was nothing.

Like she was just a friend stopping by instead of a fucking killer in your home.

Tara didn't know why she followed you.

Why her feet carried her further inside instead of turning around and doing what she was supposed to do.

She barely processed the way you walked ahead of her, leading her through the house like she belonged there.

Like she wasn't holding a knife in her bag.

Like she wasn't planning to use it.

Her fingers curled tighter around the strap, knuckles aching from the pressure, but she still didn't stop.

She stepped past the entryway, eyes flickering over everything she could see—the framed artwork on the walls, the coat rack near the door, the way the house smelled warm, lived in. There was something painfully normal about all of it. Too normal. It made her stomach turn.

And then her gaze landed on it.

The photo sitting neatly on the shelf above the couch.

She didn't mean to stop. Didn't mean to let her focus linger. But she did.

It was you.

Your family.

Your mom, your dad, your little brother.

All of you smiling, arms wrapped around each other like you had never known anything but happiness.

Her throat burned.

Her chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped their hands around her ribs and squeezed.

She didn't know why.

She didn't fucking know why.

All she knew was that she hated that picture.

Hated the way you had that.

Hated the way she couldn't even imagine a photo like that of her own family.

Most definitely not framed in the living room.

Her mouth pressed into a hard line, her grip tightening around the strap of her bag.

The weight of the knife sat heavy inside, like it was taunting her.

She should reach for it.

She should pull it out and remind herself why she was here.

But her body still wouldn't move.

And that made her furious.

Why the fuck was she just standing here?

Why wasn't she doing anything?

It would be so easy.

A few steps. A flick of her wrist.

Blood against the perfect little life you had.

A stain.

A reminder that nothing was ever really safe.

So why couldn't she do it?

Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else—until your voice cut through the haze.

"Tara?"

She blinked.

Snapped back to the moment.

You were looking at her now, head slightly tilted, waiting for her to follow you further inside.

She forced her jaw to unclench, tearing her eyes away from the photo and moving again.

She followed you into the living room.

And that was when she saw the mess of notes and open notebooks spread out across the coffee table.

Pens scattered. Pages half-filled with numbers and formulas. Homework left abandoned mid-thought.

She stared.

She didn't even know why.

Maybe it was because it was so normal.

Like you had no idea what was standing right in front of you.

Like she wasn't supposed to be anything other than some classmate stopping by with an assignment.

Her fingers twitched against the strap of her bag.

Maybe if she just—

Your voice cut through the silence again, still light, still unbothered.

"You can sit down if you want."

You motioned toward the couch, as if this was just normal.

As if she wasn't standing in your house, her heart hammering, her mind completely unraveling.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing her feet forward.

One step.

Then another.

She made it halfway across the room before stopping again, her breath catching somewhere in her throat.

She shouldn't be here.

She shouldn't be doing this.

She should just grab the knife, should just do what she fucking came here to do.

But she couldn't.

And she didn’t know why.

[gold-onthe-inside]

critical asset

n. def. a specific entity that is of such extraordinary importance that its incapacitation or destruction would have a very serious, debilitating effect on the ability of a nation to continue to function effectively.

who? spencer reid (s7) x analyst!reader summary: the one where you and spencer finally get closer, even if it's just because penelope's too busy. content warnings: pining spencer, r and penelope argue word count: 1.8k

It’s painful how much Spencer likes you, wishing he could just transfer to counter-intelligence and be around you all the time, especially these days. You don’t come downstairs as often anymore, not since they put away Doyle, and it makes him all the more restless. He pursed his lips, looking at the chess game he was playing out, his interest in it sapping the more aware he was of your absence.

A few weeks ago, you would have been sitting right across from him, contemplating your next move, toying with the bishop between your fingers, so focused on the game that he could stare at you as long as he liked. He liked watching your sharp eyes dart around the board, assessing threats to your victory, liked watching you chew your lip as you thought about what to do. He could notice the exact shift in your expression when you knew you were either going to win or lose.

“I see it in 4,” you said, running the tip of your tongue over your teeth, glancing up at him as his gaze shifted to the pieces, the litte furrow in his brow as he wet his lips, trying to see what you did.

“How?” he asked. He was so sure he hadn’t given you a way out… until he watched you arrange each move delicately and his lips pursed into a pout. “Rematch?” he would ask, noticing your smug smile.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you’d say, standing up and squeezing his shoulder before you’d walk away, and he’d sigh, like he’s doing right now, sweeping the pieces into the cloth drawstring bag and folding up the wooden board to put back in his desk.

He’d get one over you more often than not when playing chess at least. He couldn’t say the same for everything else. But if anyone would say yes to a meditation sci-fi film, he knows it’s you — you’re one of the rare few people in his life who has obscure interests like his.

“My Russian isn’t that good,” you said as he waited by your cubicle for an answer, watching you turn off your desktop, drumming his fingers on the top of your transparent divider.

“I can translate anything you don’t understand,” Spencer offered, able to sense that he was close to prying a ‘yes’ out of you.

“I’ve heard your Russian,” you replied, raising a brow at him as the two of you stroll to the elevatory. “Just cause you can memorise the language doesn’t make you fluent, Reid.”

“Well, how am I supposed to become fluent if I don’t immerse myself in the language?” he asked, knowing exactly how to modulate his voice to melt your resistance. He sees your nose twitch and he knows he’s got you.

“Fine, but you’re buying dinner,” you replied, pointing at him and he frowned at you.

“How’s that fair if I’ve bought your ticket too?” he asked, pressing the elevator button. “Plus paying for snacks, and you know those places charge extra than normal—”

“Ugh, fine, jeez,” you replied, leaning against the wall. “I’ll buy dinner.” He was content with that, waiting for you to get in the elevator before following you. A thought crosses his mind, unbidden, that he had never said anything about getting dinner together, and hope flares in his chest. Maybe you wanted this to be a date as much as he did.

It’s dashed when he overhears your argument with Penelope when he’s supposed to be asking her to track down gas stations close to their crime scene — “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be feeling left out if you weren’t constantly shutting me out!” you cried. “God, I mean, you didn’t even let me know you were going to work this early, but you seemed fine calling up Kevin to carpool with.”

“It’s… That’s… It’s just complicated, okay?” Penelope cried, already on the edge since they’d lost Emily.

“Yeah, a lot of things seem complicated with you lately,” you said, scoffing. “It’s kinda hard to support you when I don’t know what’s going on with you, Pen. You’re either working or you’re with Derek or you’re with Kevin—”

“Yeah, well, I could say the same about you!” Penelope shot back. “Been on any dates with Reid lately?” she asked and his breath stuttered where he stood, out of sight, behind the slightly ajar door.

“What else am I supposed to do when you’re always bringing Kevin home?” you demanded. “Seriously, it’s starting to feel like he’s a third roommate lately. He certainly eats like one.” His heart sinks at your words — were you only hanging out with him because you had nowhere to go? Spencer pressed himself back against the wall. “You know what, if he’s gonna hang around that much, you could at least get him to split the groceries,” you snapped at her, heading for the door.

“Yeah, well…” Penelope struggled to come up with a retort as fast as you did — she didn’t have a cruel bone in her body. Or at least, she wasn’t as quick with using it. “Well, if you’re gonna spend that much time with Reid, the least you could do is throw that boy a bone,” she called after you as you stormed out, slamming the door behind you and letting out an enraged huff as you stalked down the corridor, oblivious to Spencer.

He swallowed, watching your retreating figure and letting a beat pass before contemplating whether he should go to Penelope. Maybe he should just have Morgan talk to her instead. He turned on his heel, making his way back to the briefing room instead.

Spencer stared at the clock, watching the hands tick round until you would finally leave. All this week he had been trying to convince himself that you were avoiding him, but that was just his paranoia talking. You’d been avoiding everyone, really — him, Garcia, Morgan… your behaviour towards other people was almost exactly the same. Almost, but not quite. You had been colder to him specifically.

He just couldn’t help thinking you were upset with him.

“You okay?” he asked, catching up to you outside the building, a slight pant to his voice due to the short sprint he had to do to catch up to you in time. Your pace had slowed, and with your gaze to the floor, you let him fall in step beside you. Spencer tried not to pay too much attention to the distance you kept between the two of you.

He noticed everything about you. He couldn’t help it. He had noticed the stiffness in your shoulders, the rigid way you carried yourself.

"Fine," you replied half-heartedly, turning your keys over in your pocket. "I just hate taking the train home."

“Why not get an apartment that’s closer to here?” he suggested, stuffing his hands in his own pockets, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder as he fell into step beside you. He’d noticed you had been taking the metro a lot more than usual. He wondered if everything was okay with your roommate.

"I like living in DC," you replied, walking with him to the station. He hated driving as much as you hated the train.

He nodded, walking alongside you. He wished you’d look at him, though. He could never guess what was going on in your head — was everything okay? Had he done something wrong? You seemed colder to him these days. “What’s been going on with you?” he asked, his voice soft. “You’ve been a bit down lately, are you sure you’re alright?” You finally looked up at Spencer and he had to catch his breath — he’d never get used to your eyes, the sharp intelligence in them, the focus.

You sighed, looking ahead again. "Penelope's been... I dunno, things aren't great between us."

“Why’s that?” he asked, reminded of your argument again. The two of you were always together, you were inseparable. “Is everything okay?” He was about to reach out, touch your arm, but he second-guessed himself, not wanting you to push him away. He couldn’t take it if you did.

"I don't know," you confessed, your nose tinged red with the cold, still turning over the key in your pocket to keep yourself grounded. "She's working overtime, if she's not on a case, she's working on something with Derek that she won't tell me about, which is fine, I get it. If anyone understands classified projects, I do. And then she's always with Kevin and I just..." You let out a breath, like you haven't let all of it out in a while, and it fogs up a little, your eyes glassy. "You know, you see yourself as this central person in someone's life and then suddenly... all these other figures come in and you just... don't know where you fit in anymore."

The look in your eyes made him ache to comfort you and he had to look away to stop himself from being overwhelmed by what he saw there. “People get busy,” he said, softly. “It doesn’t mean she doesn’t value your friendship, or that she doesn’t want you around as much as you want to be.” His fingers twitched against his own palm as he spoke — he knew the feeling in your words all too well. He hated the idea that you were going through what he did on a daily basis.

You blinked the dampness in your eyes away, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. "It's whatever," you murmured, tucking hair behind your ear.

Spencer looked at your profile as you walked and he had to look away again. He was starting to lose count of how many times he’d stopped himself from reaching out to you. He wanted to, he wanted to so desperately… but he was also terrified of rejection from you. He didn’t have an endless well of confidence, and he couldn’t bear it if you pushed him away. So he settled with wishing he could help you more than he currently was.

"How are you doing?" you asked, glancing at him. "With Emily and everything."

Spencer cleared his throat as he walked beside you, staring at the ground in front of him. “I think I’m still in shock,” he said, softly. “I miss her a hell of a lot, I’ve never connected with someone so quickly.” He didn’t even hesitate before he added: “Except maybe with you.”

You huffed a little, smiling. "Nerds of a feather, right?"

He nodded, smiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.” He glanced over and met your gaze, and he couldn’t help the way a grin bloomed on his face, your eyes meeting his.

You smiled at him, your eyes lighting up in that way he loves — not just with amusement, but with warmth, and his chest started to ache, just a little. He could do this forever.

His heart skipped, and for a moment he could forget everything. For a moment, everything was perfect, just you and him.

[wolls-angel]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ hockey song (cover) - Offside AU ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x popstar!reader summary: Y/N is in Toronto to meet her best friend's new boyfriend and they go to one of his games. Little does she know a certain goalie is captivated by her. lyrics: Oh! The good ol' Hockey game / Is the best game you can name / And the best game you can name / Is the good ol' Hockey game word count: 1.4k warning(s): pure fluff, not proof read notes: yayyyyyy first chapter of Offside !! so excited to finally share this with you all. i hope you enjoy !! xoxo fun fact: ik this song by heart. offside masterpost - next chapter

You hear a high pitched squeal come from behind you and immediately know exactly who is standing there. Iris Bennett, your best friend since... well, forever. You turn around and open your arms to invite her in for a hug. It has been 7 horrible months without your best friend, but now you are here, in Toronto, to play a show and (more importantly) meet Iris' new boyfriend.

When Iris told you she met someone you never thought it would be a hockey star. "His name is William Nylander. Look him up, Y/N" and you did. Tall, handsome, blonde. You understood why she liked him. But you wanted to meet him. It just so happened that you had booked Scotia Bank Arena the day after the Leafs were scheduled to play there, so Iris Invited you to the game as her plus one.

She ran into you at full force, "I missed you!!". She was a little taller than you with shorter blonde hair and the kindest eyes you could ever imagine. You lose your balance for a second but she stabilizes you.

"I missed you too, Iris," she pulls away, "How have things been?". All she does is smile and cover her mouth, as if she's trying to hide her excitement, "Amazing! Y/N, you have to meet Willy. He's amazing and so sweet and so funny and just the perfect guy". You smile at her excitement. She hasn't spoken this way about a man in a very long time.

"I'm happy for you, babe," you look around and notice how people are starting to recognize who you are, "Time to go to the hotel?"

"Yeah".

The drive to the hotel is filled with giggles and gossip as you tell Iris about your breakup with Milo and her first few months of dating William, who she lovingly refers to as Willy.

The Leafs management had been very kind in arranging your accommodations for staying in Toronto, in exchange for an appearance at a game. Your publicist, Janine, agreed but only if you could steal a player the next night for your show. So... everyone was happy.

You were staying in the Royal York, a gorgeous old hotel right across from the arena where you would be attending the game and playing your show. The staff seemed nice and they were able to bring all your luggage to your room no problem. When you got to the hotel room, there was a box on the bed with a card beside it. You drop your purse and open the card.

ANGL, We are so pleased you will be joining us for our game against the Anaheim Ducks tonight. As a token of our appreciation for your work and talent, we hope you will wear this bedazzled and signed Joseph Woll jersey. We are excited to see you at the game. ~ Leafs Management

You smile and open the box. Just like the card said, there is a bedazzled blue Leafs home jersey. Of course you decide to wear it. How could you say no?

The gossip between you and Iris continues as you get ready for the game together. Normally WAGs don't wear their man's jersey or sit in the front row, but Iris wasn't going to make you do all the fan stuff on your own. She put on her jersey, reading Nylander 88 on the back, and a pair of crisp blue jeans to match.

"He did what?" Iris' jaw drops as you nod, finishing your makeup. "Seriously, I can't believe you didn't leave him sooner... What an asshole. Telling you to lose weight because it would be bad for him to have a fat girlfriend? He's just self conscious he couldn't lift you up at Disney". You let out a giggle at that comment. You see Iris check her watch in the mirror and she says, "Shit, girl, you need to change. We're gonna be late and I told Willy I'd get you there for warm ups".

"Perfect timing, because makeup is done," you swipe the last bit of lipgloss on your lips and put the tube in your purse. Iris hands you the jersey. It fits well. Kinda oversized, which you like. You fix your hair and sigh. You didn't even look up who this Woll guy is. What if he's some controversial guy who has a criminal record and is barely being kept out of jail? What if he beats his girlfriend?

"Come on, Y/N, we need to go!" Iris yells from the other room. You slip on your black leather platform boots and grab your purse, following Iris out the door.

Scotia Bank Arena is already bouncing with excitement when you arrive. The Leafs are all on the ice and skating around, warming up. You take your seat and number 88 immediately comes up to the boards, waving at Iris. She waves back and then points to you. You wave and smile. That must be William. He waves and mouths "nice to meet you" before blowing a kiss at Iris and skating away.

Thirty seconds later, another guy, number 23, comes up to the board. He waves at Iris and shoots you a wink before continuing on his way. You laugh at the gesture and ask Iris, "Who was that?". "Matthew Knies. Young guy, very nice. I can introduce you if you want..." Iris shrugs against you and wiggles her eyebrows. "Stop that," you playfully hit her thigh. Then, you hear a horn. The game is starting.

The game is exciting. Leafs score. Leafs powerplay. Offside. Ducks score. Leafs score. Leafs score. Ducks penalty. Icing. Fight. Leafs score. Two minutes to the end of the 3rd and its 4-1 Leafs. The arena is buzzing. Your leg is bouncing and you are holding Iris' hand for dear life.

The whistle blows and the man over the speakers shouts, "We forgot to mention a little surprise for all you music lovers in the crowd tonight. Please give a warm Toronto Maple Leafs welcome to popstar, ANGL!". The crowd roars as the camera pans to you and Iris. You wave and blow kisses up to it, smiling sweetly.

The Leafs goalie turns to look at you while tapping his stick on the ice as if to clap before getting into position for the face off. This is exciting. Ducks empty net. Pumped up crowd and thirty second left in the game. The ref drops the puck and the Ducks captain wins the faceoff, shooting it at the goal. The goalie males the save and there is a path. He gives it a good hit and it travels down the ice, into the Ducks net. The whistle blows signalling the game is over and the announcer says, "Leafs win 5-1 annnndddddd Joseph Woll with his first goal of the season, unassisted!". The arena erupts in cheers and you even hear people chanting "And after allllllll, you're my Joseph Wolllllllll" (like Wonderwall by Oasis).

The rest of the Leafs line up to give the goalie, or Woll, a hug before they all file off the ice. You get up to leave but Iris tells you, "No, wait, we have to see who are the three stars of the game," so you sit back down. The announcer begins, "And now, your stars of the game! Third star of the game, from your Toronto Maple Leafs, number 88, William Nylander," the crowd cheers and Iris jumps up and down, screaming. William skates onto the ice and gives his stick to a young boy in the front row across the ice from the bench.

"Second star of the game, from the Anaheim Ducks, number 11, Trevor Zegras". There is very little applause from the audience and Zegras doesn’t even come on the ice. "Finally, the first star of the game, from you Toronto Maple Leafs, number 60 Joseph Woll." The crowd cheers again and Woll skates onto the ice. He turns towards you and smiles, tossing his stick over the glass to give you. He mouths "nice jersey" and skates away.

You can feel your cheeks heat up and you look at Iris, whose mouth is hanging open. "What?" you ask her. "Nothing, nothing. Just seems like a song worthy moment, you know?". You laugh. Maybe it is. All you know is you'll be going to a lot more hockey games from now on.

*ur.angel has added a post*

[momolady]

The Five Paralangua: All Parts

-Patreon - Ko-Fi - Commissions - Masterlist -

♥ Female Reader x Five Monsters (cis and nonbinary) Polyamory ♥ Why Choose ♥ One Woman ♥ Multiple Men ♥

♥Word count -15,575♥

(Ya'll broke me down. This is all four parts, no links, no tricks. Enjoy!)

One:

If it’s not the rooster who wakes me up, it will be one of the Golden Girls. Lately, I’ve been able to squeak in some extra sleep during the mornings, but today the Golden Girls aren’t having it. They’re causing a fuss in the yard, and as I roll over towards my window I can see Sophia glaring inside at me.

“Hold your horses, girls!” I fussed as I stepped out of bed. “I’m getting up!”

They’re making a racket out there, and I have to wonder if old lady Murphy’s mastiff has come sniffing around the fence again. He doesn’t do anything, he just seems to have a crush on my girls. Which they don’t take as kindly to.

By the time I’m dressed and ready, the Golden Girls have calmed down. Their mooing has stopped, and the rooster has decided to make the alarm now.

“What’s up with all of you?” I called out, holding the feeding bucket. “You were making such a fuss! I wouldn’t be surprised if I got a noise complaint from town.” I was walking to the storage shed when I noticed a strange print in the mud. It wasn’t one of the Golden Girls, and it certainly wasn’t one of the chickens or sheep. It was large, massive really, and it reminded me of a scene from that old dinosaur movie.

“What on earth?” I muttered to myself. I was studying it closely when Rose started sniffing around my head and nudging the bucket with her foot.

“Alright, alright,” I huffed. “I’ll get your breakfast.” The girls had all the hay and grass they could ask for, but that morning offering of grains was not to be delayed at any cost. 

I was hefting scoops of it into their troughs when I heard the phone ringing from inside the house. I quickly finished off the feeding, tossing some along the ground for the chickens as I raced inside.

I was breathless when I grabbed the phone, so the caller got an earful of heavy breathing before I answered. “Riley Farms, we’re out of eggs,” I said.

“Stella?”

I walked to the fridge to get myself a drink. “Yes? Who is it?”

“This is Alice Dunlop from the festival planning committee.” She sounded quite meek as she said this. Usually the festival committee members were a bit hoity toity. 

“It’s about the chosen for this year's festival.”

“I plan to attend,” I huffed. “I told Mrs. Greenhill I already was fulfilling my role as chosen.” I took out the orange juice then went in search of a cup. I was excited to attend this year’s festival. A few years ago, I would have skipped out too, but once I moved back home, it became a north star for me. Some people found being one of the chosen for the Festival of Ash to be too daunting or too frightening. The Paralangua were a site to behold, depending on how you looked at them of course. Living in Charcourt, you got your chance to spy them occasionally. They didn’t come into town but maybe once or twice a year, and if you did see one it was probably one of the elders. But they were monstrous, pale, clay creatures, who I always found a fascination with.

“Is that why you’re calling? Did she forget to fill out the paper again?” Mrs. Greenhill loved her chardonnay.

“No, she did.” Her voice quivered in a strange way. “That’s the thing, Stella, you’re the only one who has confirmed.”

I hesitated reaching for a cup and stood still. “You mean out of the five chosen for this year-”

“You’re going solo,” Alice stated plainly and nervously. 

Has this ever happened at the Festival of Ash before? One or two have certainly not shown up each year. But four?

“We’re going to have a meeting with some of the elders. They want you to attend if that's possible at all. Just to discuss what could possibly end up happening at this year’s ceremony.”

“They still want to go through with it?” I gasped. “Even if I’m the only one there? What would be the point?”

“There’s still five of the parlangua attending.” Of course, they never missed a festival. But still, this didn’t seem like the kind of ceremony worth having. Five on one!

Oh my god, five on one? Is that even possible?

“Stella?” Alice said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

I gasped. “Oh, yes! I can attend.”

She sighed with relief. “Good. That’s good.”

That made me wonder if there was something going on behind the scenes. It would also explain the dinosaur sized footprint left in my yard. Someone was trying to sneak a peek.

“It’s going to be this evening, around six. We’ll be providing a meal for the inconvenience.” I heard papers shuffling and the sound of a door opening. “We’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be there, thanks for letting me know.” I hung up the phone then stood there, running my tongue along the edge of my teeth.

Five on one, that certainly would be a big family. I sat back down at the table, continuing to think. Was it even possible to hold the traditional ceremony as it was this way? After all it was all a huge chase in the labyrinth below the town. A show of how mates are fated together despite the challenges the labyrinth put between them.

“Me and five parlangua,” I muttered. I started growing a bit warm under the collar. “Me and five,” I whispered again. Five big, strong, handsome paralangua. Their pale scales, their strong arms, their big hands. Oh my god, ten giant hands touching me.

The sound of the Golden Girls fussing again snapped me out of my thoughts. “Stop thinking like one of those romance novels.” I finally got a glass and poured myself a drink. “You have no idea what the council is going to talk about at this meeting. They may be canceling the ceremony. Who knows?” I drank, still fixated a touch on those ten hands.

“Get ahold of yourself, Stella,” I said loudly then chugged down my orange juice. “You still have some work to do!”

I made a quick breakfast before going back out onto the farm. Ten hands, would be nice around to take care of things. The Broken Cart Grange had been in my family for generations, and now, it was only down to me. Lonesome, little old, me. After my parents died I rented the place out for a long time, until Troy came into my life.

Ugh, Troy.

I went around the chicken coops, checking for eggs, and once again, I saw one of the dinosaur sized footprints from before.

“I wonder if they’re spying on me,” I muttered to the chickens around me. “That’s usually part of the tradition you know.”

One of my chickens stares at me with a blank face then tilts her head.

“Oh yes! It’s not supposed to happen, but curious future mates will be curious future mates.” I looked out the window of the coop to the long road leading from the farm towards the main road into Charcourt. “I wonder if paralangua children come out as eggs,” I chuckled to myself as I found some eggs tucked away. I shuddered, and went on working.

That evening I drove to the council building. It was on the cusp of Charcourt and the paralangua territory, going down through the swampy area. The tall twisted trees covered any sort of sunlight, creating shadows and shapes along the path that tricked the eye and made the senses heighten.

I came upon the old bridge that crossed over the council building. It was over a tall embankment with a thick, speeding river underneath. It was told that the paralangua used this river to hide back in the old days and many lost souls could be found at the bottom.

“They sure do have the atmosphere right,” I mumbled under my breath before driving over.

I’m not sure when the council building had been built, but it was one of the newer structures compared to the Charcourt Castle where the Festival of Ash ceremony ended. I was coming upon the door when a laugh stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Well, aren’t you a tall sight for short eyes,” a parlangua came out from around the corner. This was my first time seeing one so close. I’d caught some in the distance before and at the festivals, but this one was so close I could touch them.

I then registered what he had said. “What?”

He cleared his throat. “I said, tall sight for-” he stopped, seeming to take in what he said as well. “I was remarking at how nice and tall you-” He stopped again and cleared his throat. “Let me get to the door for you.” He opened the door for me and I walked in with him close behind.

“Are you here for the meeting?” He asked.

I nodded, still taking him in. He was tall, powerful, I mean, all paralangua are. That’s nothing new. He had remarkable hind quarters, and thick strong legs, along with a pooch to his belly. 

“I’m uh…I guess the solo act for the ceremony this year.” I laughed, but the paralangua went stiff and his eyes widened. His tail flicked out and with a slight turn of his head he gazed down at me, a sudden nervousness to his stance.

I licked my lips out of nerves. “Wh-which way is the meeting.”

“So you’re Stella.” He rubbed at his neck. 

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me then?” I tried to joke around, but really I was on pins and needles. I swallowed and shrugged. “I guess they’re going to try and move up a set of chosen. That’s my guess anyways. It’s fine if I have to skip.”

The paralangua still seemed nervous. “I don’t think that’s what’s happening,” he murmured.” My name is Priapus, by the way.” He held out his hand. “My friends call me Reap.”

That big hand enveloped mine, the scales were smooth and cool. They almost felt silky on the palm, a little more textured on the backside. I liked it. Ten of them!  “Nice to meet you.” I said, shaking out my ridiculous thoughts.

He seemed anxious for a second. “I am one of the five paralangua for the ceremony.”

This big boy? I thought out of shock. This slab of big, hulking, white scales was one of the fellow members of the ceremony? A chosen like me?

“Oh,” was all I could manage to squeak out.

Reap pressed his mouth together in a firm line. “Not exactly the way we are supposed to meet, I know.”

“Yeah, well, strange circumstances all around.” You motioned down the hall. “Is this the way towards the meeting?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Reap walked with me down the hallway, keeping a couple of steps behind me. “A bit strange isn’t it?”

I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Which part?”

He chuckled. “I guess everything. I don’t think there’s been a no show like this since one of the first ceremonies. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. One of the other chosen paralangua called us a cursed group,” he forced a laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe we are. Maybe we aren’t.”

I held back so me and Reap walked side by side. “Maybe I’m just lucky!”

“Huh?”

I shook my head and looked at an open door. A girl around my age stepped out then waved us both in. “Good, you made it!” She waved me into the room then gave Reap a strange, almost scolding look before scurrying in and motioning to a table loaded with food. “Go ahead and make yourself a plate. I’m Alice, and apparently I’ll be handling this meeting,” she said with a chip on her shoulder.

“Are the council not coming?” Reap asked.

Alice held up a recording device and laid it down onto the table. “Here’s your council.” She sighed and shook her head. “They say there’s other festival work that needs their attention as well. But I’d say they’re just-” She shook her head and stopped herself from saying something she’d regret. “Just waiting on the others so I can read out the email I was sent.”

“It’s just an email?” Reap said in disbelief. He scoffed and slapped his arms against his sides. “I thought this was important?”

“Oh, but it is,” Alice said sarcastically. She then sighed and shrugged. “It is what it is. We’re lucky they’re taking their time, rather than springing it on everyone the night of the ceremony.”

I was surprised. I thought the council was this well oiled and highly traditional machine that was perfectly ready for any circumstance. But this sounded like a bunch of teenagers running a club!

Alice gave me a knowing smile. “Not to worry. I’m taking care of this. Not going to scare you with five giant men in one night.” We both looked at each other for a moment, both of us drawing lines from what she said. “This is my first big project, I’m a bit nervous,” she murmured.

I smiled. “It’s okay.”

Reap was poking at food on the table, eating small bites and chewing them slowly. He seemed distant, lost in thought. I hope he wasn’t disappointed with what was being offered. Not the food, but me, I mean.

A few minutes later two more paralangua enter the room, one is very tall with a lithe frame, the other is a tad shorter and stockier. 

“Solomon, Venus,” Alice greeted them. “Why don’t you both go ahead and get something to eat.”

“Where are the robes?” The stockier one asked.

Alice chuckled. “I’m the only council member tonight, Venus.”

Venus scoffed, his lip curling up over his sharp teeth. “Figures. I’ll bet you anything those idiots are off pre-gaming.”

“Now, now, Venus,” the lithe paralangua said. His eyes rose up, looking at me in a way that could have melted me into a giggling puddle. “We have a guest here. Remember your manners.”

“I ain’t a kid!” Venus huffed and stormed over to the food.

The lithe paralngua came over towards me. I can’t describe just how elegantly he moved, how beautiful he was. There was an elegance to his face, a sharp masculinity that was as fine as porcelain. 

“You must be Stella,” he said gently. “It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Solomon.”

My mouth had gotten very dry, and it was hard to swallow the cornbread in my mouth. I covered my lips with a napkin and nodded. “Sorry, was eating.”

Solomon had a soft smile upon his face. “My bad.” He looked around the room. “Shame we had to meet this way. The labyrinth is so much more…atmospheric.”

I had a feeling he had another word in mind, but toned it down due to the situation. I wiped my mouth once the food was swallowed. “It could be worse.”

He nodded, a serious glint in his eye. “That could be said for anything.”

Alice was checking her watch and she got a scowl on her face. “Do any of you know where Chandra and Eros are?” 

“Afraid not,” Reap answered.

Solomon just shook his head.

Venus was chewing, but he spoke up anyway. “Somewhere jacking off.”

“Venus!” Alice snapped and stormed over towards the door to look out.

I noticed Venus was giving me looks, strange glances that last a second too long so I would catch him each time.

“Don’t mind Venus. He doesn’t like letting his nerves show,” Solomon replied. “I would say he and Reap are the shyest of the lot.” He then glanced towards the door. “The other two who have yet to arrive are far from.”

“What are you?” I asked.

Solomon smirked. “I prefer to be quiet.”

I smiled back at him, the unease that had been bothering me since this morning was slowly melting away. Somehow, putting faces to these ten hands was helping.

“So, what do you do?” Venus spoke up, causing me to jerk in his direction. Reap was standing behind him, a worried expression on his face.

“I have a farm,” I answered simply.

Venus had a piece of food in each hand. Despite his cranky expression, he did look very cute. “What kind?”

“Right now it’s just me, so I have just a few animals.”

Venus took a few steps towards me. “Like chickens?”

I wasn't sure what his tone was. He sounded both tense and curious. “Chickens, a few sheep, two goats, four cows I call the Golden Girls.”

Venus’ eyes lit up. “I love that show.”

I was about to offer to show him pictures when Alice came back in, two more paralangua dragged behind her. One was wearing a pearl necklace around his thick neck, the other was yawning and had painted nails. Or well, claws I guess.

“I was trying to wake him up,” the necklace wearing one said.

“I told you no one would be here?” The yawning one continued to yawn. He blinked his eyes, revealing them to be a bright pink.

Alice had a look upon her face. “It doesn’t matter. I still have some things to go over with all of you, Chandra.”

Chandra smirked, his pink eyes lighting up as Alice fussed at him. He reached for the table, picking up the recorder. “Could this meeting have been an email?”

“It is an email,” Reap replied. 

Chandra smirked, but the other yanked the recorder from his hand. “Just because the council does it doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Careful there, Eros!” Chandra snapped. He then looked across the table at me and his pink eyes lit up. “Well, hello there.” He licked his teeth in a seductive way. “Is this our wifey?”

“Ew, don’t say wifey,” Eros scoffed. “Her name is Stella. A star,” his voice became dreamy. “And she deserves to be treated as such.”

I have so many feelings right now, I’m pretty sure I’m just blank. 

“Everyone, sit down!” Alice snapped.

Chandra hissed through his teeth. “I bet you're fun. Too bad you’re not part of-”

Alice shook her head at him and Chandra shut his mouth, “Good, now that we’re all here, we can start this.” She moved towards the table, taking a head seat at the table and laying out a folder.

The room quieted more than it already had, and the paralangua were taking seats around the table. There was definitely a tension in the air that floated about the whole room. Despite the situation most of the tension seemed to be resting with poor Alice at the head. Left to do the dirty work of her superiors she was a lot more composed than I would be given the situation.

“Alright, so I am sure we’re all aware of the situation,” Alice spoke up. She was trying to sound in control, but there was a slight warble to her voice. “The other chosen haven’t returned home to Charcourt, leaving only one of the five to take the ceremony. Which is an unfortunate occurrence. The council, in their infinite wisdom,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “have left me a message which will hopefully clear things up.”

Pink-eyed Chandra raised his hand and Alice scoffed. “Yes, what is it?”

Chandra lowered his hand and leaned forward. “I don’t agree with the council.”

“She hasn’t said what the council has decided.” Solomon replied with a cool even tone. “How can you disagree already?”

“Because the council is full of out of touch misers,” Chandra waved his hand in the air. “I don’t doubt for a second they’re going to hurt her feelings.”

Eros perked up. “Whose feelings?”

“Hers.” Chandra pointed at me. “Why punish the good one of the bunch because the other four didn’t want to shirk up to their responsibilities?”

I was once again the center of attention and I wasn’t sure I liked that yet. “Well let's see what the council does say before we start jumping off cliffs.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “No reason to get angry just yet.”

“I heard rumors they were allowing volunteers to join up,” Venus grunted.

Reap jerked and looked frightened at the idea. “Volunteers?” 

“Stop it now,” Alice called out. “Why are you rumor mongering when I am trying to give you the truth?” She huffed and snapped the paper out before her. “If you all don’t mind.” Her eyes glanced down. “As a reward for her loyalty to Charcourt and the traditions of the Festival of Ash, Ms. Stella Riley will be allowed to keep all five of the intended paralangua grooms, or choose the ones she feels are deserving. Despite the lack of chosen and spectacle for the ceremony, it will continue as planned. The labyrinth will be opened, but by all means, the end results will be decided by Ms. Stella Riley, rather than the usual chase the labyrinth provides.” Alice looked up from the printed email and I was for sure the center of attention now and forever.

I sat still, afraid to look at anyone in the room.

“Does that suffice?” Alice asked.

There was quiet, and with the quiet there was more tension and unease. A few beads of sweat were gathering at the nape of my neck and I knew I needed to say something, but I couldn’t think of anything at all except those ten damn hands again.

Solomon turned to me, placing his hand upon my arm in a gentle fashion. “What do you think, Stella? Are you okay with this?”

“I suppose.” I murmured and slowly looked around the room. “I’m just one person though. I’m not sure if I can handle-” I saw their eyes, all of them looking at me. There was an intensity, although not one of malice or even unease. Dare I even think they were aroused by the prospect?

Ten hands. Ten hands!

“I’d say you’re in a very lucky spot,” Chandra spoke up. “Five grooms, ten hands, what an easy life you’ll have from here on out.”

He said it, I thought to myself.

“But is it fair to the rest of us to have to share?” Venus snapped. He didn’t sound angry like he had before, instead he sounded concerned painted as irritation. “It’s easy to pick a favorite. Why should she be any different. Are we supposed to make a chore wheel of who gets time with her?”

“As if all the chosens of the past haven’t lived in polyamorous pods,” Eros replied with a sultry tone. “It’s not uncommon, hell, it’s practically the natural order of things. I remember my family growing up and how they all lived together as a unit.” He glanced across at Venus with a smirk. “Like we haven’t already-”

“Hush,” Venus hissed. “My point remains. That was a whole group of chosen. This is a singular chosen.”

“She seems capable,” Chandra replied. He then glanced to Reap who had been quiet this whole time. “Doesn’t she, Reap?”

Reap looked up nervously. “It’s her decision on who to keep. I say we leave it up to her and the ceremony.”

“But how does she do that?” Solomon asked. “If the usual labyrinth method isn’t to be the norm this year, then maybe we should figure out what to do instead.”

“I don’t think I’d have the heart to pick and choose like that,” I murmured. “You all seem very nice. At least from first impressions.”

There was quiet again and I was trying to find my voice to speak up. “I-” I took a breath to calm myself. “I’ve always wanted a big family. I used to but everyone is either gone or passed. It’s just me in that giant farmhouse ever since I moved back. And all I’ve ever wanted was a family, I’ve always wanted lots of kids.”

“Five grooms gives you a good chance,” Eros teased.

I smiled shyly. “I don’t mind the five of you, but if there is one of you who feels it isn’t what you wanted, I understand that as well.”

“The farm is lovely,” Reap replied, unintentionally giving away the fact he was the one who left the prints in the mud.

“It’s untraditional, that’s for certain,” Solomon replied. “But I think it’s the best option for all of us.”

Reap tentatively leaned forward. “Maybe we should give her a chance to get to know us. You know. Visit her a little before the ceremony.”

“That’s against the rules,” Venus snipped.

“Everyone does it every year though,” Chandra scoffed. “I think they’d over look it for us if they do it every year.”

“I believe they would, yes,” Alice interjected. 

Reap turned to look at me, his gaze gentle and his smile slightly returned. “Would you be alright with that, Stella?”

A tingle went down my spine and I took a deep breath. “Sure, just be aware of my animals. That’s all I ask.”

Alice sighed in relief. “Well, if that settles that, then that’s the end of the meeting.” She crumpled up the printed out email and tossed it towards the nearest trash can. “I will see you all again at the ceremony. Stella, if you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me. You can call at any time.” She gathered her things and left, leaving me and my five grooms alone in the conference room.

“Well, that was interesting.” Solomon stood up from the table. He looked back at the food spread out on the table behind us. “Do you think she remembered this is here?”

“We can finish it off, can’t we Venus?” Chandra jabbed.

Venus just glared at him.

“Maybe now would be a good time to set up a schedule between us and Stella before the ceremony. We should have enough time for each of us,” Reap spoke up.

“Schedules aren’t romantic,” Eros sighed. 

“What, and just show up randomly to her place? She works, you know?” Venus snipped at him.

“I don’t mind, really. I’m usually alone on the farm anyways,” I murmured. All eyes were on me again. “I don’t mind visits.”

There was a hush between the five of them.

“You’ve got enough to deal with,” Solomon said sternly, mainly for the rest of them. “We can work out a schedule between us, all you have to do is be your charming self.”

I smiled shyly. “I can do that.” I wasn’t sure what to expect from all this, and although I was excited by the prospect, I was trying to keep my expectations low. I had five chances, I wasn’t going to waste a single one of them. Lithe stoic Solomon. Flirty, ethereal Chandra. Shy and sweet Priapus, aka Reap. Venus, who was hot headed but vulnerable. And lastly, lovely and romantic Eros. I didn’t really have to decide, they were all mine for taking if I wanted. That was nerve wracking alone, but I was deeply excited. 

Two:

I noticed looks at the store while I was getting some supplies. Usually, the farming supply store was one of those places people paid no mind. Everyone was busy with their own lives, business, and animals. But today I could tell people were paying that mind. I suppose word had gotten out that Stella Riley was the only chosen this year. I quickly checked out, never one to enjoy that sort of limelight upon me. Why I was one of the chosen, I’ll never quite understand.

Once I got home I simply sat in the truck. My hands slipped from the steering wheel and I leaned back against the old seat and let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh boy.” I opened my eyes, staring up at the duct tape that patched up the ceiling. “What am I doing?” I patted my cheeks. “Everyone knows. What was I thinking?” I yelled out loud. I grabbed hold of the steering wheel again, thinking I should drive back to the headquarters and ask someone, anyone, if I was losing my mind agreeing to this nonsense.

Instead, I got out of the truck and went to the back. “You got greedy. What would Grandma say?” I grumbled under my breath. “Stella Riley, you can’t put both hands in the cookie jar!” I said mimicking her. I pulled down the tailgate and started to yank out the chicken feed. 

“Let me help you with that.” 

Every hair on my body bristled with anticipation. I looked up, seeing Solomon approaching from the barn. He must have been waiting.

Oh God! My first meeting, or well, my first one on one session with them. I stood erect as he approached, unsure exactly what to say. Did he hear me yell in the truck? Oh God! What am I supposed to do? Wait, he asked me a question. Say something, Stella! Say anything!

“I’ve got it, it’s okay.” I had a nervous lilt to my voice. “I’m used to it.”

Solomon came up, taking the bag of feed from me. “I’m sure you are. But what’s the harm in accepting a little help?”

I smiled, fidgeting for a second. “I keep it over here.” I motioned towards the barn, leading him towards the backdoors. Already the Golden Girls were gathering at the entrance to watch. They were entranced by Solomon, which I don’t blame them. He was tall and lithe compared to other paralangua, which gave him an almost ethereal appearance. 

“There we are,” he murmured as he set the bag down.

“Thank you.” I tried to smooth down my hair. I hadn’t been expecting one of them so soon. I figured I had at least until this evening. I was wearing my old overalls and boots, I didn’t look quite the part of a girl expecting a suitor.

Solomon was luckily looking around the barn. “It’s nice here.”

“Family heirloom, I suppose.” I chuckled and my anxiety was apparent in my voice cracking. “Uhm-so you’re my first.”

Solomon looked back at me, a slight smile came to his face. “I was quite lucky to win that draw.”

“A draw?” I asked, leading him back towards the house.

“Well, more like several games of rock, paper, scissors,” he shrugged. “It was the only way we could convince Venus it was fair.” He smiled and shook his head.  “We were going to do it alphabetically, but Venus argued that put him at the end.”

I smiled. “I could tell he was nervous at the meeting though.”

Solomon sighed. “He does like to put on his bravado. He’s younger and smaller, so he feels like he needs to…act in order to be seen. When really, I think Venus just needs to be himself to get noticed. Then again, I’m the oldest, and I know ‘be yourself’ is the oldest advice in the book.”

“I remember my Grandpa giving me that advice when I was a kid,” I murmured. I could even picture him sitting at the kitchen table, leaning forward to me as I cried into the glass bottle coke he bought me at the general store. “I hated it. So, I can see where Venus’ mind could possibly be.”

Solomon nodded. “Youth and age have their pros and cons.”

I chuckled, matching Solomon’s wise smile. I opened the door and we walked into the kitchen. “Would you like anything?” I asked. “Tea? Coffee?”

Solomon’s eyes went around the room, there was a softness to his gaze. His large hand came down on the back of a chair at the table. “This really is a picturesque place,” he murmured. “Look at all the old tins.” He motioned towards the little shelf that ran all the way around the edge of the cabinets and kitchen itself. 

My eyes went around the room and brought a nostalgic smile to my face. “My grandmother collected them.”

“Generations of things,” he murmured. Solomon then looked back at me and his smile brightened. “I love that.”

My cheeks burned and I quickly turned away. “I also have some sparkling water in the fridge.”

Solomon grunted as he sat down at the table. His tail curled up under the chair then hung over one of the rungs. “I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea if it’s not too much trouble. Or does that make me sound too old?” He laughed.

“Not at all!” I reached for the kettle on the stove and took it over to the sink. I was filling it with water when Solomon came and stood beside me, looking out the large picture window over the sink. “I enjoy tea more and more these days to relax. Coffee to work. Tea to relax.”

“Tea can have just as much caffeine as coffee you know?” He teased.

“Herbal,” I corrected. “I love a good peppermint.”

Solomon nodded. “I am partial to a sleepy time.” He leaned against the table, watching me as I moved about the kitchen. His gaze made me more aware of my body and movements. It was slightly nerve wracking, but also made me want to impress him.

“You’re quite brave to take on all of us,” he murmured suddenly. “I was instantly impressed with you.”

Holy shit did he read my mind? Did he know what I was trying to do while I gracefully turned on the stove and set the kettle upon the eye?

“I wouldn’t say brave. I actually feel a bit selfish.” I glanced up at him, taking in his handsome profile and gleaming eyes. My heart pounded. “I’m not even sure you all are interested.” I turned off the water and moved the kettle to the stove.

“What’s not to be interested in?” Solomon asked, his quiet and serious tone mixed with that deep, raspy voice of his made me shiver. 

I fidgeted with the stove for a second in order to avoid looking at him again. If I did after that I just might melt.

“Your boldness at the meeting impressed most of us. I think Reap and I were both charmed right away.”

I looked back at him finally. “Thank you,” was all I could muster.

His smile grew and there was a softness to his gaze. “What? Are you not used to such compliments?”

I shook my head. “To be honest I’m more used to the opposite.”

Solomon frowned, looking concerned. “Who from?”

I shook my head. “Oh no, I mean, not recently. It’s been years since-” My voice clogged itself in my throat and my mouth hung open for a second. I swallowed and shrugged. “It was a past relationship.”

Solomon huffed, shaking his head. “Such a shame, Stella. Men are idiots. Cruel idiots. I’m so sorry.”

“You aren’t my ex. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” I smiled shyly. “You say that about your own kind?”

“Not exactly my kind,” he sighed. “Us paralangua are raised better as young ones. I know hurt like that is hard to forget, but I do find you beautiful if that means anything.”

I must have been strawberry red because I saw his gaze turn to concern. “It means something.” My voice squeaked. I cleared my throat and met his eyes, chuckling softly. “Thank you so much.”

Solomon touched my hand just as the teapot began to whistle.

We had a lovely conversation over tea; he talked about his life beyond the river in Charcourt, he was raised by his father alone, and he, too, longed for a bigger family. I was always easily attracted to a deep voice and large hands (it got me in trouble once before), but I felt a chemistry with Solomon that felt so real.

“You probably have work to do. I shouldn’t have kept you so long.” Solomon murmured.

That cut through me as I had so been enjoying our conversation. “Oh uh-” I looked at the clock and couldn't argue that I needed to tend to things on the farm. “Yes well-” I didn’t really want to say goodbye.

Solomon took his cup to the sink. “I did enjoy getting to know you, Stella.”

I nodded. “Me too. I mean! I mean you too. I mean-”

Solomon chuckled and he leaned down, placing a kiss on my cheek. My heart could have stopped. I’d never been kissed on the cheek by a guy like that.

“Venus is next. Not sure when they'll want to come by, but do expect them.” Solomon gave me a wink.

I smiled back at him. “Is there anything they like I could have around for them?”

“Sweets,” he replied. “Venus likes sweets.”

“I do like to bake.” I said, walking him to the door.

At the door, Solomon looked at me and there was a crackle in the air. “I know we just met, but would you mind if I kissed you? In earnest?”

I just nodded, unable to say anything as I tried to contain myself. Solomon dipped his head, placing a kiss upon my lips. I shivered as his hand touched my cheek. Imagine that four more times, I thought to myself.

“Kissing? Already?”

Solomon pulled back as Venus walked up to the door. Venus had a slight scowl upon their face and their tail swished back and forth behind them.

“What are you doing here?” Solomon chuckled. “Eager to get things started.”

Venus bristled, or at least, every fiber of them stiffened. “You’re taking your time, I see! We had an agreement.”

“I know. I know.” Solomon stepped away from the door. “I’ll see you later, Stella. For now, I leave you with Venus.” 

“Until later,” I said. I then looked back at Venus. “I actually have some chores to do if you don’t mind waiting.”

Venus eyes darted towards the barn, seeing the fenced in area where the cows were gathering, waiting for their next meal. “You said they were the Golden Girls?”

I nodded. “Would you like to help me?”

Venus was still pouting but he followed me towards the barn. The Golden Girls gathered at the entrance, mooing and shoving each other to get to the front.

“The red one is Blanche,” I started. “The black and white one is Sophia. Rose is the brown and white one, and the black one is Dorothy.”

Venus approached them gingerly, holding out his hand which Rose sniffed at. He went and pet her, the other girls complained they weren’t getting the same attention.

“Do you like animals?” I asked as I filled up the trough.

Venus pulled his hand back. “I have a cat.”

“Aww, what’s their name?” I smiled at Venus who looked away shyly, but maintained a tough appearance.

“Bea.”

I smirked. “I used to listen to the Mame soundtrack with my grandmother all the time. Bea Arthur has such a great voice.”

Venus’s eyes followed me as I refilled the bucket with chicken feed. “My cat has a weird raspy voice, that’s why I named her Bea.”

“That’s so cute.” I led Venus out into the farmyard, tossing out the chicken feed and the chickens came running.

“You’re really the only one who works this?” Venus asked.

“I’m the only Riley in Charcourt left,” I replied, hugging the bucket to my chest. “And obviously I’m single.”

Venus scoffed. “So you want the five of us just for hired help?”

I gave him a look. “No. I mean, help is nice, but-”

“But what?”

I was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I just like the idea of the affection that comes with it.”

His gaze softened and I swear the white scales around his eyes turned pink. “You just want to be pampered by five guys?”

I chuckled. “Maybe? Doesn’t anybody want to be a little pampered?” I walked back towards the barn to get more feed for the sheep. “I was thinking about making cookies when I was done here. What kind do you like?”

Venus’ eyes got wide and he cleared his throat. “Trying to grease me up with baking?”

“Maybe a little,” I said with a giggle. “If I’m being honest.”

Venus glanced at me then away. “What kinds can you make?”

I thought for a moment. “Well, I think I can do chocolate chip, sugar cookies, I’ve got lots of cinnamon too.”

Venus sniffed, watching as the Golden Girls came closer to him. “Chocolate chip is good.”

“Alright then. I’ll have to go check the coop for eggs.”

Venus turned towards me. “What?”

“Well what do you think I have the chickens for? I sell the eggs, I also sell the milk from the girls and the goats.”

Venus seemed stunned by this. “I guess that makes sense,” he muttered. “But you just use them like that? Fresh from their-”

“That’s how eggs happen.” I walked towards the coop. “Want to see?”

Venus shook their head. “Not really. Can I just go inside?” They pointed back to the house.

“Sure, go ahead.” I gathered up the eggs I could find in the coop then went back inside. Venus was looking around my kitchen as well, especially the magnets on the fridge. I set the basket of eggs down and they looked at the basket with some repulsion. 

“They come out gross, yes. They stay fresher if you don’t wash them.”

Their mouth gaped as I said this.

I just smirked at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll wash the ones I use for the cookies. Is that alright?”

They nodded, returning to their usual grumpy pout.

I gathered up ingredients to make the cookies and preheated the oven. “Venus is an interesting name,” I replied. It was really the only conversation starter I could think of. It had been quiet this whole time.

“You think?” Venus huffed. “My mom liked that show Sailor Moon, she didn’t seem to care that Venus meant girl.”

It was an awfully cute explanation but I wouldn’t have dared repeated that to him. “So she named you after her favorite character, that’s sweet.”

Venus frowned. “I went by Vee until I was fifteen,” he grumbled. “Then when my mom got sick, I started letting her call me Venus again.”

I stopped measuring out flour and gave Venus a sympathetic look.

“I lived with Reap’s family for a time,” they muttered. “His brother, Lerour, had just gone through the ceremony so there was room for me.” They sniffled then turned their head away so I couldn’t see.

“I’m so sorry, Venus.” I reached out and touched his arm, which he tilted his head to look at. “My mom died when I was little too.”

Venus looked back at me, his eyes were watery and pink around the rim. “Yeah well. Guess we have something in common. Not that being sad is any sort of connection.”

I chuckled and rubbed his arm gently. “I would say grief is a pretty good common ground to start from.” I measured out more of the dry ingredients and Venus came closer to my side. They were a touch shorter than me, but they had nice strong arms and thick thighs. Plus, they felt nice next to me, a little warm with a comforting air.

“So, you lived with Reap?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “He’s pretty shy, just warning you.”

“Good to know.” I started mixing the dry ingredients together. “Is he next?”

Venus shook his head and got a look of annoyance upon their face. “Unfortunately for you, Chandra is next.”

“Why unfortunately?” I laughed.

“You didn’t get enough of him at the meeting the other night? He’s obnoxious, not to mention a bit of a-” They stopped and hesitated saying the next word. “Just don’t fall for his ploys.” 

“Ploys? What ploys?”

Venus gave me a warning look, one that turned their eyes into a darker shade of gray. He held up a finger and leaned in close. “Solomon can ask for a kiss and be a gentleman. Chandra is no gentleman, he is a flirt and enjoys a challenge.”

“He’s easy?” I giggled.

“A little.” Venus looked back at the cookie mix. “Just be careful. Not saying you won’t be, you seem to have a level head on you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” I continued making the cookies with Venus. When the cookies were fresh from the oven, Venus had quite a few. They took the rest home and I promised we could bake together again sometime soon.

I could tell from his expression he wanted to ask for a kiss as well, but wasn’t going to do it anytime soon. “Have a good evening, Venus.” I kissed his cheek and those eyes lit up into pure silver. He didn’t say anything just looked at me and nodded before leaving.

“Pretty cute,” I said to myself after he left. “Solomon and Venus in one day,” I murmured. I could still remember Solomon’s kiss, and the connection I made with Venus was just as sweet. 

“Two down, three to go,” I murmured and went back inside to finish cleaning up. 

Three:

It had been a day or so since I had seen Solomon and Venus, so I was expecting Chandra at any moment. Considering what I had gleaned from him at the meetings, and even Venus’ warnings, it was obvious he was going to be a handful. But so far, I had been enjoying these meetings, so I wasn’t going to worry about it for too long.

Every so often I like to take my goats down to the river that runs behind the farm. They get to play, splash around, and I swear the water makes their milk taste so much better. I also like to go down there and look for pretty rocks or plants I can add to my collection.

The four goats were playing in the river, eating grass from the shore and splashing around. The youngest, Gilda, was bouncing around and having the time of her life. I was wading at the edge of the river, looking at stones that crossed my path. I then heard the goats exclaim and come running towards me, splashing and kicking up water all over the back of my legs.

Expecting a snake or something, I turned quickly, ushering the goats to the bank. Then I caught a flash of white in the corner of my eye. There stood Chandra, rising up out of the water with a great smirk upon his face.

“Didn’t mean to startle,” he chuckled. He smoothed his hand down his chest, wiping away excess water. “I just smelled something delicious in the air and came towards it.”

The goats on the bank yelled and made a fuss as Chandra came closer to me.

“Not funny,” I huffed, smoothing my hair back away from my face.

Chandra approached, taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “My apologies to you and the ladies.”

“One's a male, but thank you.” His pink eyes were captivating, they looked like glass marbles that shined brighter than any diamond.

“My apologies again for the misgendering,” Chandra said with a chuckle.  He then leaned against one of the trees that hung over the river. “So, what brings a lily of the valley like you to a place like this?”

I motioned back to the goats. “I like bringing them down here sometimes. Wasn’t expecting you to come out of the river though.”

“I enjoy making an entrance. What can I say?” he looked me over, drinking me in and growing a smile that made me think of the cat who ate the canary.

I smirked. “What are you doing?”

“What? Just looking. I’m not going to do anything, I don’t know what Venus said to sully my name, but I swear, I’m not like that.” He winked playfully.

I eyed him up and down. “What do you think Venus said?”

“Well, knowing him, nothing too fond.” He stepped aside from the tree and sat down upon the bank, stretching out his legs and tail upon the grass. “He and I have never quite seen eye to eye.”

I took the spot beside him, raising up my knees to my chest. “And why do you think that is?”

“I think he envies my confidence,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe my height.”

“Venus told me not to fall for your ploys.” I glanced up at him to garner his reaction, which there was none. Chandra simply smiled. “What would those ploys be?”

Chandra’s tail curled, wrapping around my sides then brushing up against my thigh. “Well, let me think. I have no idea what he is talking about.” he said teasingly. Meanwhile, his tail tightened and pulled me in close to his side. Chandra put his arm around me and continued to feign contemplation.

I looked at his arm and let out a small laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Hm?” He looked down. “Oh my goodness. When did you do this?” He pulled his arm back. “We’ve only just met. Unless you’re…into that.” He winked again.

I rolled my eyes and scooted back. “You’re something of a flirt.”

“Don’t you worry. Once the ceremony happens I will become the most devoted out of all my brother husbands.” he laid his hand dramatically against his chest. “I call them oats to sow. But I’m sure there are names for me out there.”

“Venus was hinting. But I don’t blame oats for being oats.”

Chandra smiled. “Have you sowed a bit in your time?”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it sowing. Maybe if I was doing it on gravel.” I made a face and shook my head. “I planted my oats in the wrong ground.”

He got a look upon his face, one of concern. “Mind if I ask what was so wrong about this ground?”

I looked at him and then away a few times before I got the nerve to say anything. “Let's just say it was toxic earth.”

Chandra nodded his head, clicking his tongue in understanding. “I’m happy to see you here, away from that.”

I sighed heavily. “Me too.”

Chandra leaned back against his palms and gazed up towards the sky. “Now you have five strikingly rich, fertile soils to plant your oats.”

I grimaced. “Can we stop this analogy?”

“I hated the words as soon as I said them.” Chandra watched me as I stood up. His eyes followed me, seeing my look of distress and I gazed at the goats behind us. “Something the matter?”

“Gilda’s gone.” I whipped around, looking all over for the little goat. “One of my goats is missing.”

“Well calm down, calm down,” he coaxed as he stood up. “I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

“She’s my youngest and she’s not learned how wandering is bad!” I darted down the river then looked back. “I need to get the others back to the barn. But I don’t want to lose time looking for her.” I could feel the panic rising in my gut.

“You take the goats back, I’ll keep looking,” he said gently. “I’ll keep looking.”

I nodded and breathlessly lead the other goats back to the barn. As I made my way back towards the river, I looked everywhere. If I thought she could sleep under stones I would have turned every single one over. I searched all along the path and once I reached the river I searched for Chandra. After getting down to the bank I saw a flash of white in the corner of my eye. Chandra was knelt down beside a bush and my stomach seized. I instantly thought the worst and ran towards him.

“Chandra?” I called out.

He looked up and shushed me, tapping his finger to his mouth. “Be quiet. She’s sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” I blurted angrily. I ran to him and looked over his shoulder, seeing little Gilda curled up under a bush that was directly in a beam of sunlight.

“She probably curled up here and passed out.” He looked up at me and smiled. “She’s so cute, I didn’t want to bother her.”

As I came closer Gilda lifted up her head, she moved herself closer and laid her head on Chandra’s knee. The look in his beautiful pink eyes made my heart melt. As my nerves settled I leaned up against him. It was quiet for a long moment while we let Gilda enjoy her nap. I fell asleep as the sun was warm and the flow of the river made a powerful spell. 

I came to as Chandra was carrying me towards the house with Gilda at our heels. “Ah, awake I see.” He sat me down and and smoothed back my clothes from being crumpled up. “Have a nice nap?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” I chuckled. 

Gilda was happily standing at Chandra’s side. It made my heart flutter.

“You owe me then,” Chandra teased. “Everyone got a full meeting with you, but I suppose being used as a pillow is fine.”

“Sorry, I really am.” I chuckled. 

“No worries.” Chandra smoothed his palm over my cheek then tucked back my hair. “I’ll have you all to myself here soon.” 

I closed my eyes, giving him the signal to kiss me. Instead he smoothed back my hair and kissed my forehead. “I can do better.” He whispered before he pulled away. “Hopefully Reap won’t outshine me.” He gave me a smile before leaving, and my face was molten hot. 

To say I’ve been having a hard time sleeping with all this going on would be accurate. Fitful is the word I would use. My overactive imagination combined with the ‘ten hands’ mantra I’d been going over, was giving me some pretty bodice heaving thoughts. I could only imagine what was coming with Reap and Eros still arriving. I knew a bit about Reap, I’d gotten to talk to him already. But Eros was a bit of a mystery. His painted nails and pearl necklace were the most I had to introduce him to me. Reap was shy and super sweet, and his opening line to me had been on my mind as I awaited our meeting.

It was a regular afternoon, one where I had just received a grocery order. I always enjoyed the act of putting things away neatly. Whether it was in the barn or in my own home, having everything neatly placed and organized was cathartic. Plus, if I had a hard time seeing something I often forgot it was there. So it’s best I can see what I have.

Anyways, as I was remarking on how frustrating it is certain products have the same bottles but different labeling, there was a knock at my door. I turned, seeing a shape in the stained glass window of my door.

“Just a second!” I called out, setting the groceries aside. I opened the door to see a bouquet of flowers. Vivid pinks and reads, dashes of pale yellow, all sorts of flowers that must have cost a bundle to put together.

“Don’t just shove it in her face.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

I looked beyond the bouquet to see both Eros and Reap standing in my doorway. They both looked at me, similarly sympathetic but their eyes read it in different ways.

“Two at once? What did I do to deserve this?” I asked.

Eros offered me the bouquet. “Before that, I put this together myself with Reap’s suggestions.”

“You did this? It’s beautiful!” I exclaimed.

“Eros is really talented with those sorts of things,” Reap spoke softly from behind. “It’s part of why I asked him to tag along for my visit.” He looked embarrassed, almost afraid to look at me, but he did with a lustrous sparkle to his eyes.

“Come on in, the kitchen is a mess right now, but the table is clear.” I stepped inside, letting them follow in after me.

“Do you have a vase?” Eros asked. “I can take care of those for you.”

“I’ll have to hunt one down. It’s been ages since I last got flowers I didn’t pick myself.” I chuckled, gently laying the bouquet down.

“The kitchen isn’t a mess,” Reap said as he looked around.

“I just got groceries so it’s scattered.” I was searching through the lower cabinets, hoping to find my grandmother’s vase. We used to put it on the table every Sunday with flowers my grandfather got for her. But childhood was so long ago.

From the corner of my eye I saw Eros mouth something to Reap. Reap nodded in turn and came to my side. “Can I help with the search?”

“Yes, actually,” I huffed when the lower cabinets didn’t pan out. “The vase may be up behind one of the tins. You’re so tall, you’d probably see it before me.”

Reap smiled at me. “Says the tall sight for short eyes.”

I broke into a huge smile I tried to keep restrained. “Yes, even for me.”

His bright smile broke through that nervousness he held and he began searching along that top shelf, carefully peering behind the tins.

“I haven’t had to use that vase since my grandmother passed,” I replied. “So I’m afraid I put it somewhere safe and forgot where safe was.”

Eros looked up from the sink, using a pair of shears to trim the ends of the flowers into the sink. “Isn’t that how it always goes? I lose more scissors in my shop that way.”

“What is your shop?” I asked.

“A florist,” he said with a soft laugh. “I also dabble in a few other things. But flowers are my main pay check.”

“Don’t be modest,” Reap said. “He’s a renaissance man.”

“You hush.” Eros ran water over the freshly trimmed stems.

Reap stepped back. “Is this it?” He held out the vase which was covered in grease and dust from years of sitting high up in the kitchen.

“You found it!” I reached for it, touching Reap’s hands as I did. His gaze softened and his fingers twitched. “Thank you,” I said a bit more gently. “It needs a good washing.” At the sink I stood by Eros. His eyes glanced down upon my hands as I scrubbed into the vase.

“A hard worker, I see.” He took my hand gently as the vase soaked in water. He turned my palm over, gently brushing the tip of his claw along my skin. It made me shiver in a way I never had before. It was a whole new sensation to me.

Eros smiled. “What a strong heart line you have.”

“Heart line?”

Eros looked up into my eyes. “Also known as the love line,” he almost sounded like he was purring saying this.

My cheeks radiated heat until it burned the tops of my ears. “What a coincidence,” I said breathlessly.

“See, I told you it was a good thing I brought you along,” Reap murmured from behind. “You’re so good at that.”

Eros gave Reap a gentle look. “Don’t sell yourself short, Reap. You have charms all your own, but I am more than happy to be here for both of you.” He squeezed my hand gently before letting it go.

I rinsed off the vase. “You don’t need to be nervous about me. I consider myself an easy person to be around. It’s growing up with animals I think.”

“That’s what my brother said,” Reap said with a halfhearted chuckle. “But still, Eros is good at breaking tension. I feel as though I am good at making it.”

“There we are now,” Eros said as he finished off the vase. “Beautiful. Just like the one we made it for.”

I giggled and shyly looked away.

Reap sighed. “He makes it seem so easy.”

“Compliments are meant to be easy,” Eros replied. “Action is what’s best.” He motioned to me and Reap looked at me. We both exchanged glances and Reap smiled.

“Action, huh?” Reap rubbed at the side of his neck. “Well, would you like help putting your groceries away.”

I smiled. “I’m picky about how I put it up, so don’t worry about it. All the cold stuff is put away. But, if you’d like, I’d love to sit over some tea or coffee with the both of you. It’s such a nice day out, and I rarely ever get to use my patio.”

Reap’s smile was probably the sweetest out of all five of them. I was charmed instantly by him, and anytime Eros spoke it was like he was putting me under some sort of dreamy spell.

There was a gentle breeze along with the warm sunlight, the old picnic table my grandfather made was rarely used these days, but sitting with Eros and Reap made it feel like old times.

“My big brother went through the ceremony a few years ago,” Reap was telling me. “I’ve always been nervous at the idea. But he’s been telling me all these amazing things so I’ve been growing more excited as the ceremony gets closer. Then, shocker, we find out only one of the chosen this year is attending.”

“Honest gut punch,” Eros replied. He had been holding my hand the entire time, massaging it, rubbing my palm, admiring the fine lines it seemed. “None of us were sure what to do or how to act.”

“We tried to wait on word from the council but-” Reap bowed his head and swallowed. “I got curious one night.”

“I saw your footprints,” I replied. 

Reap looked aside and fidgeted in his seat. “I’m sorry! I wanted to see who stayed and I…well-”

Eros rolled his hand. “Go on. Tell her.”

I looked back at Reap. “Tell me what?”

He took in a deep breath. “I understood something my brother said. He said he saw his chosen, and knew then and there she was it. The one. His. I thought it was silly, Lerour was always dramatic but then I saw you.”

My heart fluttered.

“And like he said, I knew.” He looked up at me with a shy glance. “I think all of us felt that way. That’s how it seemed in the meeting anyways.”

I swallowed, nervous, elated, light headed, and a bunch of other things I don’t think I could blame on the coffee. “Well, thank you.” I laugh because that sounded so silly. “I don’t know why I said thank you! But uhm…I felt a little similar that day. I feel that way each time I meet one of you. It’s like fitting into something comfortable.”

Reap’s smile returned. “It does.”

Eros lifted my hand, kissing my knuckles. “We’re all a little opposite in our own ways, but you seem to be a connecting factor to all of it.”

My heart was pounding fast. Ten hands kept repeating in my mind. “I am nervous about the ceremony. I’ve barely had one serious boyfriend, let alone five. Let alone five paralangua ones.” I gazed into Reap’s eyes, seeing a gentle gaze. “I don’t know if it will work out for all of us but…I am excited to try.”

Four:

My heart is hammering out of my chest. No. Beyond that. My heart is hammering in space and changing Earth’s rotation. I was wading in knee deep water, entering the depths of the labyrinth. Cold mud and stone greet my toes. Meanwhile, ahead of me, there is a vastness I cannot describe. The labyrinth is one of the greatest mysteries the Festival of Ash provides, and I am alone inside.

The paralangua will begin their hunt now. But I am the sole prey this festival. Usually, the five chosen paralangua will enter along with some other hopeful paralangua, hunting for their chosen mate. This year, my five will enter alone, and they will hunt me together, yet separately. The order of who leaves the labyrinth will determine…well, something very intimate.

I slipped and fell into the water, splashing down, losing footing, and finding myself careening down a waterslide that shoots me out over a waterfall, below me is a vast depth with a faint blue glow.

I notice none of this beauty or splendor. I am far too busy screaming at the top of my lungs as I cascade down the waterfall like a ragdoll.

From the waterfall lunges a huge, imposing figure that rips me from the air. My heartbeat is such that now the moon is shaken from its orbit. I am tucked into large arms, one of which grabs hold of a vine and swings us towards a wall where he stops my careening.

“Easy now,” a calm voice whispers. “I got you in the nick of time.” There was a slight chuckle to his voice, but I was too busy trying to breathe to notice the sexy inflection.

“Oh my god!” I gulped in air. “Oh my god!” My naked body pressed into the scaly flank of Chandra. His white scales gleamed with that faint blue glow. He looked iridescent in the light.

“Took a tumble, did ya?” Chandra laughed as he put me upon his back. “Was planning to sneak up on you until you did that.” He started climbing up the vine, heading towards the beam of light over us.

I clung to his neck, holding on for dear life as the pool below us grew even further away. “I didn’t even see that I was that close to a slide!”

“No worries.” Chandra started to laugh but was yanked from below. 

Glancing down, Venus was upon us, his hand wrapped tightly around Chandra’s ankle. 

“Do you mind?” Chandra tried kicking, but found it upset his balance on the rope. “I’m trying to get our Stella out of here.”

“And let you be first?” Venus snarled. “Fat chance.”

Chandra eased me around to his front, holding me in the curve of his arm. “Excuse me, love.” He set me upon a ledge on the wall then leapt down, tackling Venus, and both of them dropped into the knee deep water I started in.

I yelped, quickly coming to standing. I watched them struggle for a moment, their bodies writhing and thrashing in the water, before I made my way along the ledge. The ledge led to an opening, which itself turned into a dimly lit corridor. Light filtered in through the ceiling, which was covered by vines and tree limbs. The floor was cold with settled patches of water that trickled down the walls. I was supposed to keep running, creating the chase that the labyrinth was made for. But I really didn’t want to. I wanted one of them to find me, it didn’t matter who. I just wanted to be found and taken out of here.

As I came to the end of the hallway, I peeked around the corner to see stairs on either side, and a drop off straight ahead. I stood there for a moment, listening for rushing water or something, not sure.

“There you are.”

I jumped nearly out of my skin. I looked this way and that before turning back around and seeing a massive shape at the end of the hall I just came from.

“Found you,” Solomon’s deep voice rippled through the air.

“Oh, hi,” My voice pitched as I spoke. “Fancy-” I slipped on the wall as I tried to brace against it. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Solomon stepped into the hallway. Light flitted across his body, and I took in the entire spectacle of it. I swallowed, forcing myself to gaze back up at his face. “What happened to Chandra and uhm…”

“Venus?”

I nodded, keeping my eyeline up. 

Solomon lowered down to all fours. “Don’t worry about them.” He lunged, rushing towards me.

I jumped again, rushing out the door and heading for the stairs. Solomon came racing out, standing back up on his legs as I was halfway down the stairs. We locked eyes as I turned back to look. I smiled, and he smiled back, so I turned and kept running. 

I stumbled into the water at the bottom of the stairs. Taking a step off a stone landing, I went waist-deep, which made running and impossibility. There was a loud splash behind me, and then there was silence as the water settled. 

“This would be so scary under any other circumstance,” I whispered to myself. I saw ripples in the water where Solomon was swimming. I ducked under, swimming away myself to continue the chase. 

Now, I know that there is no possible way I could ever hope to outswim a paralangua, especially one like Solomon. But, I do have years of swimming in the creek outside the farm against kids in the neighborhood on my side. I was a strong swimmer, so there was a possibility for some fun to be had.

But just as I was thinking this, my leg was grabbed and I was pulled back through the water. I was lifted to the surface where Solomon had me locked in a tight embrace. My back was pressed to his chest, and I could feel the rhythm of his very even breathing, but also, the excited rumble of his heart. 

“You almost slipped away from me,” he whispered into my ear.

“Almost,” I laughed. I patted my hands upon his arms, feeling just how tight he was holding onto me. I glanced back at him, seeing a curious smile grow upon his face. I looked back forward, seeing more ripples in the water that aimed directly at us.

Eyes peered up from the water, then slowly, Eros rose from the depths. “I really didn’t want to go head to head with you, Solomon, old boy.”

Solomon laughed, “Then don’t.”

Eros wiped water back from his face then sighed. His eyes focused on me. “I do have to admit.” He licked his chops as his eyes turned sultry. “I like the looks of this.”

I had felt exposed and naked this whole time, well, because I was. But Eros’ gaze did something to me that made me all the more aware of my body, my shape, and Solomon’s pressed against it.

“Careful now,” Solomon coaxed. 

Eros let out a deep, dark chuckle that sent shivers up my spine. “Oh trust me. I’m as a gentle as a la-” He was cut off, dragged back under water so fast I was half certain my brain glitched out.

“Goodness,” Solomon sounded just as surprised as I was.

Venus rose up, water pouring out of his jowls. He was snarling, breathing heavy as he looked at us with an almost crazed look to his eyes.

“Give her up, old man.”

“Now why is everyone suddenly calling me old man?” Solomon lifted me up and set me back behind him. “I’ll show you old, little boy.”

Venus roared and charged ahead, but much like Eros he was ripped aside and tossed into the waters with a mightly splash. Eros dove after him, charinging into a fight that looked more vicious than it needed to be.

“Run.” Solomon whispered back at me. “Now is your chance while the children are fighting.”

“What about you?” I asked.

Solomon just laughed and rushed into the fight happening before them.

I went into the water, swimming away from the kerfuffle and finding land I could walk upon. I climbed onto a mossy embankment and slid down to the other side where I plopped into a plush field of little white flowers. 

I laid there for a moment, catching my breath. Up above me was a canopy of vines, sunlight streaming down in radiant, warm beams. I laid for a second, resting and letting myself warm. 

“Those three are fighting,” I murmured. “Chandra is somewhere. And I haven’t seen Reap yet.” I sat back up and saw across the field of flowers there was an alcove where Reap was curled up inside.

“Oh,” I gasped. I stood up, waiting to see if he would move, but he didn’t. I walked across the field then climbed up upon the stone to peer into the alcove. “Reap?” I touched his back and he shifted slightly. 

I took hold of his arm and shook him gently. To which he stirred more. “It’s alright, keep running.”

I climbed up further to peer inside. “What’s the matter?”

Reap curled up more. “Nothing. I’m just not made out for this sort of thing.”

I stepped over him and into the alcove, finding it was quite comfortable inside and the stone was warmed from the sun. “Neither am I.”

Reap sighed, keeping his eyes closed. “I’ve never been much of a fighter. I don’t mind getting out last.”

I sat beside him, pulling my knees up to my chest. “I mind.”

Reap swallowed hard but remained silent. 

“You were the first one I met. I mean, it only seems fair.” I touched him, seeing him shiver from the contact. “I like you.”

Reap let out a nervous, shuddering laugh and he opened his eyes. “Damn. I knew it. You’re beautiful.”

I was aware of my nakedness again, but I knew that in this position all my rolls and folds were showing tenfold. “Oh come on.”

“I mean it.” Reap muttered as he doubled up into his fetus position. “And you smell even better.”

I was growing warm from within. “You’re lovely too.” I said as I gazed down his body, watching his tail cover a certain area.

“You should go now,” Reap murmured. “They’ll show up soon.”

“So?” I breathed as I lowered myself down to him. I touched him more, grazing my hand down his chest. “I’ve been waiting for this. I’m not sure I can wait more. The more they come after me, the more they touch me-”

Reap shuddered again. “I shouldn’t be first.”

“Why not?” I chuckled. “I already said-”

Reap grabbed my hand before it could lower and he glared into my eyes. “I’m not made to be enjoyed so easily,” he growled.

I furrowed my brow. “What does that mean?”

Slowly he began to unfurl, pulling his tail back and shifting his hips to present himself. Now, as a farm girl, I’ve seen some things. Lots of things. Back when we had tons of animals, I had seen horses, bulls, hell, even goose and pigs go at it on the farm. My grandfather taught me the birds and the bees that way, which my grandmother and mother had to correct in a lot of ways.

But when I say I had never seen anything like Reap, you know it was nothing you had ever seen.

“See?” He snarled. “I’m too big for anyone to enjoy.” He grunted and looked away in shame. “It’s miserable. Sometimes I even get light headed when I get erect.”

“Are you now?” I whispered as my eyes remained locked to the shaft. Thick. Big. Ten hands.

“A little.” Reap kept his gaze away from me.

I licked my lips as the hunger inside me grew. Yes, he was big, but I was also a big girl. “May I touch it?”

Reap jerked and his hard cock swayed. “You should run.”

“Please? My hands are cold and you look warm.” It was a ruse, but maybe he would fall for it.

He growled under his breath, straining as he seemed to throb harder now. “Just a little. It’s fine.”

Yes! I reached down, placing the tip against my palm. Reap whined, so did I. I stroked down, my hand was barely able to wrap around him. I bit down hard on my lip, caressing him even more.

“Fuck,” Reap whimpered and his hips shook.

“Reap,” I breathed. “I’m so fucking turned on.”

He whined again as I began to pump my hand up and down his mighty cock. “I-” He couldn’t get any words out.

I scooted down, taking my mouth and joining my hands. I kissed and licked him, feeling his pulse directly against my tongue. I was growing so wet I could flood the labyrinth myself. And there was an ache, god the ache!

“Stella, please!” He gasped breathlessly.

I took his tip into my mouth, tasting him directly, tasting a saltiness that dripped from the tip. Fuck, I needed him.

“We should…I should-” Reap was shivering, his hips were bucking.

“I know.” I moaned as I sat up. I lifted my leg to straddle him, taking his cock and rubbing myself against it.

Reap cried out in a sort of desired agony. “Hot!” he cried. “You’re so hot!”

I whimpered, holding him with one hand while grinding my slit against him. I needed him, in all ways. I had been trying my hardest all this time to behave myself, to keep a cool mind. But ten hands. Five cocks. Six if you wanted to take Reap’s size into account.

I place his tip to my entrance and saw the wide eyed expression upon his face. I nodded to him, slowly taking his monstrous cock inside. God! It felt so good!

“Stella-” he gasped and grabbed hold of my hips. “Be careful.”

I moaned with glee as I took him, rocking myself upon his tip then taking slightly more. My jaw hung slack as I took more and more, but there was a lot of him to take. Below me his hips rocked, pressing into the sensitive spots inside. I cried out, leaning forward to balance myself against him. 

He would take me first, there was no question in it. I panted, trying to catch my breath, but my hips were moving to find my release, and I didn’t want to stop. Not at all. I faced Reap again, smiling at him.

“I’m enjoying you very much,” I moaned. “Oh fuck, so much.”

Reap threw his head back. “I’ve never felt like this.”

“Hey!”

The loud bellowing call shook us both, taking us completely out of our hedonistic moment. Venus was standing there in the flowers, huffing and puffing from what was, no doubt, a hard fight against Eros and Solomon. He’d also gone head to head with Chandra first thing.

“What are you doing? That’s not fair!” Venus pointed towards us, and I could swear I saw a glint of tears in his eyes.

“Oh uh-” I was scrambling, but not moving out of place. “Venus, it’s uhm-”

Venus charged towards us but stopped short. “I wanted-” His voice cracked and I was sure I saw tears.

Reap swallowed and he sat up, picking me up with him. He handed me out towards Venus. “You can join in. Who says we have to fight?”

Venus sniffled and looked away, his eyes darting back to me. “Then what?” He sniffed again, but this time, it was like he was tasting the air.

“Fuck?” I spoke up which caused Venus to chuckle. 

He smiled at me, getting that cocky smug of his. “Fine then.” He took me from Reap and laid me down upon the flowers. He kissed me, planting them all over my body along with hints of his sharp teeth. His tongue replaced Reap’s cock, slurping and moaning against me until I was a blushing, heaving mess again. I clawed at the flowers behind me, gripping at them until I moved to Venus’ shoulders.

Reap watched us from above, eyes bleary but focused at the same time. He would glance around shyly, fidgeting slightly as he seemed embarrassed to touch himself. That was, until it became too much and he had to take both his hands and stroke himself.

Below my waist, Venus was enjoying himself. His tongue was long and strong, lapping at my clit, then burrowing deep inside me. His teeth would hit every so often, eliciting a startled yet pleasured moan from my lips.

“You’re really good at that,” Reap said through a strained breath.

Venus’ eyes cut up to him, lifting his head briefly to crack that superior smile. “Have you not tasted her? She’s awesome.”

Not sure how being called awesome is sexy but I would take it.

Reap knelt down beside Venus and I thought my head would pop open like a cartoon. He and Venus licked at the same time and I craned my neck back, cupping both hands over my mouth as they feasted together.

“See how she likes it?” Venus chuckled.

Reap moaned softly against me, almost like a purr.

“Save some room for us?”

All three of us jerked, turning our attention to Eros and Solomon coming over the flowery hill. Eros was watching, licking his chops as he came forward. 

He laughed as he stood before us, Solomon hobling up behind. “Did we change the rules on the elders? Naughty boys. I like it.”

Venus sneered as Eros came up, kneeling down beside me to caress down my chest then kiss me.

“You guys really did a number on me.” Solomon huffed as he plopped down beside me, laying down and letting out a relaxed breath. “Don’t let us stop you. By all means, keep going.”

“What about Chandra?” I managed to squeak out as Eros stroked and kissed me all over, nuzzling his head against me as he let out tranquil, happy sighs.

Solomon chuckled, pointing up.

I craned my neck back, peering up above the alcove where Reap and I had started. I see Chandra poised there, watching us with a lusty glint in his eyes.

“Pervert!” Venus shouted out as he stood up.

Chandra laughed. “I’m just enjoying the view! What’s wrong with that?” He slithered down from his perch and approached us. “You and Reap make wonderful dancing partners,” he said, jutting his tongue out. “Now come here. I think I earned my turn.” He grabbed me up from the ground, holding me so my rear was cupped in his great palms.

“Who decided this order?” Eros chuckled.

Chandra’s cock slipped against my thigh, rubbing there as he rocked me in his hands. “Don’t you want to do the pampering at the end?”

Eros pouted slightly, looking away as Reap came up to his side. “I suppose.”

“Then I get my go.” Chandra lifted me slightly so when I moved his cock popped up and he was able to place me over him. “I’m nowhere near as endowed as Reap,” he whispered so only I could hear. “But I know better how to utilize my gifts.” He entered me, pressing deep until I was overflowing.

I grunted, biting my lip as Chandra began moving me, using me as his own toy. I felt someone press up against my back, hugging me and touching me as Chandra moved inside. 

Ten hands. I thought to myself again. Ten hands.

“Enjoying yourself, huh?” Eros whispered into my ear from behind. “Good. You’re going to be having this feeling for a long time.”

“What about the labyrinth?” Reap murmured.

“Fuck the labyrinth!” Venus snapped. “We’re here with Stella now. They can wait on us for a minute, can’t they?”

“I hope longer than a minute,” Solomon laughed. 

Suddenly Chandra pulled out, allowing Eros to fill in his place. He eased up between my cheeks, slipping in from behind and wrapping his arms tight around me.

I cried out, feeling the first peak of intensity from my gut. I threw my head back against Eros’ shoulder, almost completely out of breath. Someone would have to give me mouth to mouth to survive.

“That’s it,” Eros puffed. “Feel me. Take me. Oh you’re beautiful! You’re amazing. Supple creature you are-”

“Enough adjectives,” Chandra laughed. “She’s close. She doesn’t need words. She needs actions.” His hand touched me below, fingering my clit.

It was too much, too hard a push. I erupted from that touch, arching my back and struggling to keep myself in their arms. I cried out, whimpering pitifully as Chandra continued to touch me, not stopping even though my body was crying out in that agonizing ecstasy.

“You’ll kill her,” Reap said gently.

“Nonsense, women are stronger than most. She can handle this,” Chandra moaned. I felt his warmth against my belly, he was cumming from seeing me cum. His thick seed dribbled down my belly, coating his fingers as he kept moving them against me.

“I’m cumming too-” Eros said with breathless abandon. “I’m-!” The strain in his voice choked off his words as he released, filling me to the brim even more than I expected.

The cool of the grass and flowers beneath my back pushed me back into reality. I gazed above me, seeing eyes watching me as I tried to pull myself out of my stupor.

“Wow!” I panted, pushing my hair out of my forehead. 

Venus chuckled. “You’ve still got three to go.”

I gave a thumbs up.

“A thumbs up, she’s a brave one,” Solomon laughed as he rolled over into my side. He pet down my chest, nuzzling my neck and murmuring softly to me.

“We should let her rest,” Reap said gently.

I propped up on my elbows. “I can handle it. I’ll be sore come morning, but I’m used to that,” I laughed.

“Well then, don’t mind me.” Solomon climbed up on top of me, stroking the hair from my face and gazing into my eyes. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I shook my head, raising my knees up around his hips so he could move between my thighs.

“Eros and Chandra left quite a mess,” Solomon murmured. “Good. I like that.”

I would say Solomon was the middle ground between Chandra, Eros, and Reap. He was quite big, but more long than girthy. He breathed in deeply, rubbing himself against me before he took the plunge. I was still quite sensitive, and his entrance shot tingles through all my limbs.

Solomon held up my legs, hugging them to his chest as he started slowly within me. He breathed out then hissed through his teeth. “Damn boys got my leg. But this will all be worth it. I can feel it.”

I could too. He reached deeper inside me than Chandra or Eros. I could tell he was holding back, but at this point he really didn’t need to.

Venus knelt down by my head. “Do you mind if-?” He seemed shy to ask.

“What would you like?” I stretch out my arm, rubbing up his thigh towards his cupped hand.

“Well-” He released himself from his hand, aiming his cock towards my mouth. “Just a little. That’s all.”

I parted my lips, letting him rest his tip upon my tongue. He pressed deeper, going into my cheek then towards my throat. I closed my lips around him and he breathed out this pitiful little sound.

I wondered what Reap was doing. We started out together, I hoped he wasn’t growing impatient or anything. 

“Trade?” Solomon chuckled to Venus.

Venus nodded eagerly, carefully removing himself from my lips then switching positions with Solomon. Venus was short, but quite girthy, he stretched me a bit as he slipped inside. Solomon’s length hit against my throat, almost making me gag. But I had trained my gag reflux ages ago due to shoveling manure on the farm. Sorry, not exactly sexy talk, I’ll leave it there though.

“Oh-” Venus let out that adorable, pitiful sound again. His face was elated and subtly precious. Solomon’s cock went down my throat a little, he struggled with not cumming immediately. 

There was a shudder again from deep within. Actually, I’m not surprised this didn’t happen sooner. Chandra and Eros had left me so raw and tender, I should have cum when Venus first entered me. But it took a moment to grow back, to settle warm in my belly and spill out again. My legs trembled first, sending their waves up through my body until I could no longer hold on.

Solomon sensed this, pulling himself out and splattering a bit on my lips, then aiming himself at my breasts as he finished. Venus cried out, nearly falling forward from  he force at which his release hit him.

Venus rested on top of me, snuggling to my chest despite Solomon’s seed all over them. Solomon chuckled, smoothing my hair back and kissing my face as I relaxed again.

“Any good?” He asked.

I nodded, not really able to form words this time.

“Mm,” Venus snuggled up closer, curling himself around me. 

“Come on little one, we’ve got one last one to make his turn.” Solomon, said, shaking Venus’ shoulder. 

Venus swatted at him. “Just a second longer.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Reap responded quietly.

“What’s fair is fair.” Solomon managed to get Venus up. “Come on, you need to wash that pretty face of yours.”

“What?” Venus touched his face and squirmed. “Oh god! I laid in it!”

Solomon and Venus walked aside while Reap came over to me. “If you need a break, I don’t mind waiting.”

I pulled him down, hugging him tight into my arms. “Just a minute. I‘ll be okay.” I nuzzled into his neck, feeling him trembled as his arms joined in.

“This is nice,” he whispered.

I was exhausted, my body spent beyond its natural borders. But I wasn’t done yet. Eight out of ten hands were dealt with. Just two more to take care of. “It is.”

“I do really like you,” he whispered. “Had this been a normal festival…I would have…you would have been-”

I kissed him softly, gazing up into his eyes as I pet his face. “I would have liked that.” I smiled, sitting up to roll him into the ground. My legs were tired, but I knew this position was the best way to take him. His beast of a cock didn’t need to be tamed exactly, just coddled. After everything, I think I was even more relaxed than before and could take him with ease.

“You don’t-” I put my finger over his mouth to keep Reap quiet.

“Shh,” I hissed. “Relax. You’ve earned this. You’ve been so patient.” I placed my hands upon his chest. Easing myself back over him. It was much easier than before, much smoother. I could take him deeper now.

Reap’s eyes widened then he threw his head back, groaning. He trembled more, grasping onto my hips as I moved upon him.

Had it not been for this whole mess with the other chosen not showing up, Reap would have been my choice as well. He was exactly what I wanted in a partner. But now, knowing all five of these strapping paralangua, I don’t think I could ever choose between them. They were all so special, so precious. Their differently personalities meshed well, including with me. I liked they worked together and they didn’t seem jealous. I wanted this, more than anything, I wanted all of them. Not just their ten hands. But their five hearts. 

Poor Reap had been waiting so long, I could feel his thunder deep within me. He came and he came, shuddering and twisting as his long awaited release finally took over. I rode him the entire time, finding pleasure in watching him writhe under me.

I woke some time later in a bed, sunlight dappling in through the curtains. I sighed and laid back, not too eager to get up and started my day. The Golden Girls were surprisingly quiet. But then I recalled what had happened, and where I actually was.

I was in the castle at the end of the labyrinth. I sat up in the bed to look around, noticing the soreness of my thighs. I tilted my head towards the door to try and see out, but I couldn’t really see anything.

I laid back down, closing my eyes and enjoying the coolness of the room. It must have rained between my memory and waking up. I could smell it in the air.

I then felt the bed sag and looked to my right. Venus was crawling back into bed. He snuggled up against me and I put my arms around him.

“We didn’t wake you did we?” He asked. “We went to the farm to take care of things while you slept.”

“You’re too sweet, thank you.” I murmured.

“Solomon is making something to eat too.” Venus sighed tranquilly as he rested against me.

“Good morning.” Reap joined us in bed as well, curling up to my back and spooning me. He smelled like the soap in my kitchen. I wonder if he did my dishes. 

“Morning,” I murmured.

Reap nuzzled to my hair, breathing in. I rested again, nearly falling asleep when my temple was kissed from over Venus. Chandra joined us, followed by Eros who crawled up beside Venus to cuddle me.

I smiled to myself, feeling a bit smug and content with how this all turned out. Eventually Solomon arrived, bringing coffee and tea for all of us. We sat upon the bed, drinking the warm beverages and sighing in content. Nothing needed to be said, we had a long time to say everything in the future. For now, we were content and happy. I’m sure we would spend time here at the castle for a while, like all chosen did. But soon, I’d have to find room for them on the farm. Which sounded like a perfect chore. 

[goatgoesmbe]

Being Valeria's sweet little gf wife. Who knew what she did for work.

It wasn't like Valeria kept it a secret, but she didn't outwardly told you about it either.

When you found out, you're not surprised. You grew up in Las Almas, so you've seen some shits, and came to get used to it.

Besides, you can't really judge anyone's occupation in this economy and this environment.

Most of them just didn't have the privilege of having a choice to choose what to do in order to feed their family.

Plus, working with Valeria provide them safety from gangs and the like.

You've seen how she cares about her men in a way, despite appearing harsh towards them.

She saw them as humans, not casting them aside when they got hurt in a fight against some militia- like they were deemeds unuseful.

Nothing about her men escaped her, so when she heard one of them have a sick child back home and was struggling to pay for treatment- she didn't hesitate to send the kid to a prestigious hospital away, free of charge (she didn't tell the dad about it and just straight up send someone to abduct take the child and told em to keep the kid safe, and it made him panicked, but still-)

You've always been someone who can see the good in other people after all, even the worst kind of people. That's the reason you're able to date her in the first place. That's one of the reasons that made her fall in love with you.

And so, here you are. With a tray of warm home-cooked meal in hands. Walking towards a room you know she used to take her.. "guests".

As you got closer, you can hear a loud smack followed by pained grunt, then a voice of your beloved shouting curse words in spanish.

Fidgeting on your spot, you looked up at one of Valeria's men guarding the door. "Can i come in?".

You could practically see gears turning in his head. The logical part is to deny, keep your sweet little self away from violence, but denying your presence to Valeria would be death sentence.

And so he knocked on the door.

"WHAT" her voice screeched, making the man jolted despite it being muffled behind the door.

And then your cute little face peeked inside, and her demeanor changed 180'.

You took in the state of the 'guests' she's keeping. Brits, from what you've heard, there are four of them all tied up, the biggest one with a skull mask chained to the wall, one with a full beard tied to a chair in front of your gf wife. Seemed like he was the one who let out those pained grunts before.

"Um.. i was just thinking that your friends must be hungry" And as your sweet voice broke the silence, all of their attention were on you.

She let you in, and gave you a tender kiss before letting you feed them. She even let you tend to their wounds as if she wasn't the cause of it.

That is, until she noticed the one with the mohawk shamelessly ogled you. She did her best to not snap in front of her sweet chica, and beckoned you over, making you sit in her lap as she asked about your day.

She looked at you like you're a precious flower. Playing with your hair before her eyes trailed to her hostages with a smug smile. An unspoken message, you're hers.

And people probably think that it's stupid of Valeria to show her enemies her weakness, you. They might take advantage of it, might hurt you to get to her.

But it's them who are stupid, for she would never let anyone- even the infamously ruthless one in the skull mask to touch a single strand of your hair.

[jessicaloons]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

Chapter 11

Masterlist - Previous - Next

Miss Americana

"Maman!" Charles said in a hushed voice but his mother only grinned, her eyes darting between her son and her young assistant.

"What? You did talk about her…" Pascale just shrugged her shoulders "Where is my gorgeous, little Ava?"

Lauren just then noticed the stroller behind Charles.

"You were right, by the way…" he said, looking at her.

"Umm-…?" Lauren was confused.

"I gave her a warm bath later on when she was still a little restless." Charles replied and she remembered their conversation again "She had a little cold back then… but she’s umm-… she’s better now."

"That’s good to know, I’m glad." the girl smiled at him, watching Pascale gently picking up Ava from the stroller, giving her the chance to see the little girl from close up "She’s gorgeous."

"That she is…" Pascale cooed.

"Yeah, she really is…" Charles agreed, although his eyes weren’t on his daughter but on Lauren, who didn’t seem to notice.

"Are you done with everything? Ready to close the salon for the next 3 weeks?" Charles asked his mother and Lauren looked at Pascale with big eyes.

"Oh god. I totally forgot to tell you… I’m so sorry!" the hairdresser gasped.

"Oh… umm okay… well yeah, I mean, I was wondering why I couldn’t set up new appointments for the next weeks although the calendar seemed to be empty, but I thought you blocked them because of our little project." the young girl smiled at her boss who sighed.

"No, it’s not okay… you could’ve planned something beforehand for the next weeks and now I leave you behind and all alone just like that…" Pascale said sincerely.

"It’s really okay Pascale. I probably wouldn’t even have planned something. Just stayed here… also, I scheduled the delivery of the new sinks and some other supplies for tomorrow, so yeah, maybe it’s better when we’re closed!" Lauren tried to reassure her "You go and enjoy your holidays with your family. I take care of the delivery tomorrow and then I watch over the salon… maybe I start with the remodelling…"

"No! We’re closed due to holidays! I cannot let you work while I do nothing… and I can’t let you be here all alone when they deliver all this new stuff tomorrow!" Pascale shook her head.

"You can and you will. Please let me handle this, Pascale. After everything you did for me…" Lauren meant what she said, looking at the other woman hugging her granddaughter close to her chest.

Pascale sighed, looking at her young assistant, the girl that got so close to her heart over the last weeks. She didn’t want to leave her all alone. Especially not in her makeshift bedroom in the storage room. The thought of Lauren all alone in the dark room with only one tiny window made her heart clench and she shook her head.

"Charles, how about you come in tomorrow morning and help Lauren with the delivery? We’re not leaving before noon so there’s enough time for that…" she smiled mischievously at her son "I would feel bad if I’d let poor Lauren handle it alone…"

"That’s really not necessary!" the girl in question protested but was shut down by just one look of the older woman.

"You know how these delivery people are! They will drop the stuff right at the entrance and you have to carry around those heavy packages all by yourself! So no, Charles will help you, right?"

"Of course! Yeah… Maman is right, you shouldn’t carry all of that alone. That’s- umm no, I’m coming. Just tell me when I should be here…" Charles said hastily, looking at Lauren.

"Umm-… the mail said they’ll be here at around 8 am so… yeah at 8?" she replied shyly and Charles nodded.

"I’ll be here then."

"Perfect!" Pascale clapped her hands gently, making Ava giggle.

Lauren was tossing and turning, not able to fall asleep. No matter what she did, when she closed her eyes she saw Charles blueish-green eyes and his dimply smile in front of her. His loving eyes whenever he looked at his daughter. Ava. The most gorgeous baby girl she has ever seen. She had her father’s eyes and dimples. A cute little button nose, chubby cheeks and a bright smile that was giving her father’s a run for its money. Lauren was nervous meeting Charles all alone. No Pascale to bridge the awkward silence. Only the two of them. Alone. She didn’t even know why she was nervous. Just that she was. Which was weird. She never felt that way before and she didn’t know if she liked it or not.

"Get yourself together, Rachel." she mumbled into the dark room, sighing after a moment "Lauren. I’m Lauren."

She checked the time and groaned. 1 am already. She turned on her side. Closing her eyes taking a deep breath, Charles face in front of her immediately. But this time she ignored it. Yes, he was attractive. Yes, there were some weird feelings stirring inside of her. But it didn’t matter. He was Pascale’s son. He had a daughter which probably meant he had a beautiful girlfriend or wife as well. Out of her league. Not that she even thought about anything like that. She already had a long enough list of problems. A crush on an unavailable man who’s also the son of her boss wasn’t going to make it on that list. And still it was Charles face she saw when she fell asleep. Unfortunately it wasn’t his face that made her wake up. Sweaty and heavy breathing. Heart racing. She had a nightmare that her father and even worse Tony had found her. Taking her back home against her will. Threatening her life and everyone who was kind to her if she wouldn’t come back. Lauren felt sick. It wasn’t the first time she had a nightmare like this. The first one or two weeks after she ran away were filled with nightmares. But since she arrived in Europe, brought a whole ocean between her and her old life, the nightmares were gone. Or at least she thought so. Lauren sat up and grabbed her water bottle, gulping it almost down in one go. With one hand she was brushing her hair out of her sweaty face, with the other she was searching for her phone to check the time.

"Fuck!" Lauren let out, scrambling out of the bed. 7:58 am. "Why? Why last night? Out of all nights I had to have a nightmare last night!" she mumbled.

Lauren left the storage room, her heart sinking when she saw Charles waiting through the storefront, talking with what looked like the delivery guy.

"I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t hear my alarm!" Lauren unlocked the door, pulling both sides wide open "I hope you didn’t have to wait too long…"

"Oh no, it’s alright..." Charles began with a big smile "We didn’t even wait for…" his smile faded immediately and worry was etched on his features "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Lauren turned, looking at him.

"You’re awfully pale…" he replied and she just waved him off.

"Oh-… umm… of course. It was just a little stressful when I realised that I’m too late!" she tried to reassure him and then quickly turned to the delivery guy "But now I’m here and we can start…"

"Sure." he nodded and started to unload 3 big and heavy looking packages, dropping them off at the entrance, followed by a handful of smaller packages "That’s all, I need you to sign here… and here…"

"I didn’t even know that Maman planned on remodelling the salon…" Charles said after he sat down the last of the 3 big packages.

"We talked about it and well one thing lead to another…" Lauren shrugged, opening one of the smaller packages "We made a mood board, looked up some stuff online and then we already ordered it…"

"Wow, my mother usually isn’t the spontaneous type. She takes her time making decisions, thinking everything through. You must have made quite the impression on her."

"I told her that the salon looks amazing, there is nothing that needed to be changed!" Lauren quickly replied "I didn’t tell her that she should do it…"

"No! That’s not-… I didn’t mean it like that. Umm- like you talked her into it! I know her, talking her into something doesn’t work. I just meant that the ideas you had must’ve been amazing, otherwise she wouldn’t be on board that quickly!" Charles looked at her with wide eyes.

"Oh. Well, she knows what she wants. And I was just lucky enough ti find the perfect stuff online…"

"Can I see it?" he asked "The mood-board?"

"Oh? Sure…" she searched through her phone, handing it over to Charles "That was the vision…"

He didn’t reply immediately, looking at the design, the different textures and colours.

"Wow…" Charles let out, looking at her "I understand why my mother agreed. It looks amazing, Lauren."

The way he said her name made the girl shiver, taking her phone back.

"It’s nothing…"

"It is. Really. You have an eye for details."

"My mother and I, we used to watch HGTV all day long. The home renovation shows were our favourite. It was either nurse or interior designer for me…"

"Why did you choose being a nurse then?" Charles asked curiously.

Lauren was silent for a moment. Thinking about the best way to answer his question.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry…" he added but she shook her head.

"I wanted to help people. People that got hurt or are sick. So yeah… nurse it was." Lauren replied, swallowing hard.

The truth was, she wanted to become a nurse because she saw what her father and his line of work did to people. A part of her was hoping she could get rid of the guilt she felt over the pain they’ve caused. Another part always had to think back at her mother and the night of their accident. How helpless she felt.

"Lauren?" Charles soft voice made her flinch "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" she looked at him confused.

"You were a little- umm… absentminded…" he took a step closer, looking in her eyes, noticing the tears gathering.

"Yeah…" she replied, her voice hoarse.

"You sure?" Charles asked when a single tear rolled down the girls cheek and without thinking about it he gently wiped it away with his thumb, cupping her cheek.

"I was just thinking of something…" Lauren breathed out when the door to the salon opened and Pascale walked in, followed by a boy carrying Ava, making Lauren taking a step away from Charles, looking at her boss.

"Are we interrupting something?" the boy, who looked a lot like Charles just younger, asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Ferme-la, Arthur!" Charles hissed, making Arthur held up his hand.

"Lauren, this is Arthur, my youngest son… and you know little Ava by now…" Pascale introduced Lauren to Arthur.

"The famous Lauren. I’ve heard so much about you already!" he grinned at her.

"Hopefully good things?" Lauren said nervously.

"Only good things, no not even good, my mother was praising you. Basically everything about you… but saying you’re a really pretty girl was a total understatement…" he winked and Lauren felt herself blush.

"Stop it, Romeo!" Pascale rolled her eyes but had to smirk at the look Charles was giving his younger brother "I brought some breakfast for my little hard workers."

"I’m starving!" Arthur exclaimed.

"I wasn’t talking about you. What did you do besides carrying your niece around? Right. Nothing." Pascale put down a paper bag and two cups on the counter "This is for you two." she smiled at Charles and Lauren.

"That wasn’t necessary!" the girl mumbled.

"Don’t think I didn’t notice how little you eat! You really should’ve accepted my offer and move in with me instead of living in the storage room with no way to cook an-…"

"What? You sleep in the storage room?" Charles made big eyes, looking at Lauren "But-… that room is tiny! And dusty! Is there even a window?"

"It’s fine! There is a window. It’s not dusty. The bed is comfy. It’s just until I got my feet on the ground…" she replied hastily.

"Yeah and you could’ve done that at my place just as good…" Pascale sighed.

"Maman is right! This is just a salon! It’s not safe! Do you know how often there has been break-ins here in the shops?" Charles said, his voice laced with worry "It’s dangerous!"

"This is Monaco… not Nice!" Arthur laughed but stopped as soon as his brother looked at him "But still. Yeah. Dangerous. Living in a shop."

"It’s fine. Really. As soon as my French is better and I can do my qualification and start working as a nurse I’ll look for a flat! Until then, the store is just fine!"

"I don’t kn-…" Charles got interrupted by his phone and he pulled it out of his pocket "Hang on a minute, I gotta take that call…" he groaned groaned, stepping out of the shop.

"Arthur? I need your height!" Pascale voice came out of the storage room and he got up looking around.

"Could you hold her?" he looked at Lauren.

"Of course!" she smiled and took Ava out of Arthur’s hands "Hello, pretty girl." she cooed at her, making the little girl smile "Aren’t you adorable!"

Ava looked at Lauren with her big, bright eyes, cuddling into her chest, making adorable sounds that made Lauren’s heart swell. The little girl was grabbing the strings of her hoodie playing with it, happily chortling.

Outside of the salon Charles ended the call, sighing frustrated when he looked through the storefront, seeing his daughter smiling brightly at Lauren. His heart skipped a beat and his insides began to warm up. Holding Ava looked so natural to Lauren. Like she never did anything else in her life and Charles smiled. He quietly opened the door and walked inside, leaning against the wall, watching his daughter and Lauren. She cooed at Ava, gently caressing her cheek making the little girl snuggle up into her arm, happily giggling. Like in trance Charles watched the scene in front of him, not able to interrupt it.

"Oh wow, look at that, she loves you! Normally she’s super fuzzy with strangers! But with you? Charles, I think you have some competition…" Arthur laughed, walking back in and Lauren looked up, spotting Charles leaning against the wall.

"Yeah… I think so too, she seems to like you a lot…" he replied, looking at her with an intense gaze, making her blush slightly.

"She’s a perfect little girl. It’s easy with her…" Lauren smiled at Ava who yawned a little.

"A tired little girl. Come on sweet girl…" Arthur began, holding out his hands, but Ava turned her head away, snuggling even more into Laurens chest "Hey! You stole my niece from me!"

"I’m sorry." the girl chuckled and looked down at Ava.

"Don’t be… he’s just jealous. Ava has good taste in who she likes, that’s all…" Charles pushed off the wall, walking over to the two girls and his daughter lifted her head, hearing her fathers voice this close.

"But no one beats her dad…" Lauren smiled right as Ava held her hand out for Charles and she carefully handed the little girl over "Understandable…" she whispered underneath her breath.

After a few moments of silence, Pascale came back from the storage room, seeing Charles with Ava in his arms standing close to Lauren while Arthur sat on the counter, scrolling through his phone.

"Alright, I guess we’re done here…" she began "We just have to figure out where Lauren will stay…"

"Here! Like I said. I’ll be fine!" the girl in question protested again.

"No. I should’ve insisted when you moved here in the first place! You’re coming to my place!" Pascale said with a finality in her voice.

"But you won’t even be here for the next weeks! I can’t possibly just move into your apartment without you being there! That’s not right…"

"How about Lauren joins us at our holiday and you can figure out where she stays after? This way she’s not all alone for the next weeks. The house we’ve rented has enough rooms!" Arthur suggested and Lauren looked at him with big eyes.

"What? No-… that’s no… I can’t! This is family! I can’t intru-…" she stammered but stopped when Charles looked at her, a soft smile on his lips.

"You know what Arthur? I think that was the best idea you ever had!" he winked at his younger brother who shrugged his shoulders.

"Then it’s settled. You’re coming with us. No discussion… now come on… let’s pack!" Pascale excitedly clapped her hands together.

Lauren stood in front of the big yacht. Sedici. Sixteen. She turned to Charles, eyes big.

"How rich are you? Renting an entire yacht this size? That must cost a fortune!" she said shocked and he laughed.

"Now imagine how rich someone has to be to own it…" he winked and held out his hand for her to take.

"It’s yours?" she whispered shyly, carefully walking over the gangway.

"Yeah… I bought it last summer…" he nodded.

Lauren was at a loss of words, standing on board of the beautiful yacht. She knew that people in Monaco were richer than usually, it was Monaco after all. But she didn’t expect people to be that rich to have yachts like this. Or at least not normal people. Celebrities? Yeah. Millionaires? Of course. But Pascale had a hair salon. She knew that she wasn’t making a ton of money with it. So she didn’t think she was part of Monaco’s high society, so why would her son be?

"Lauren?" Charles gentle voice coaxed her out of her thoughts and she shook her head "You want me to give you a little tour?"

"Yeah. Sure…" she replied and followed him inside.

The yacht was beautiful. Simple, yet elegant. Everything shiny and sleek. The sofas looked soft and comfy. The beds in the cabins even more so. The upper deck with the steering wheel was her favourite place tho. It had a padded sundeck from where you could overlook the entire yacht.

"We’ll arrive in Ajaccio tonight and tomorrow in the morning we head to Olbia… or rather near Olbia…" Charles explained the route and Lauren looked at him "Don’t worry, I’m a pretty decent captain." he laughed.

"I’ve never been that long on the water…" she mumbled.

"Don’t worry, in the first aid kid we’ve got something against seasickness."

"That’s good to know." Lauren smiled when Arthur climbed up the stairs next to them.

"Everyone on board, we can take off." he said and Charles nodded.

"So, Lauren, will you be my co-captain for the day?" he asked her in a serious tone, too serious, and the girl laughed, a sound that made his heart flutter.

"It would be an honour, captain!" she replied and Charles smiled before he started to explain her the different buttons and displays on the dashboard.

Lauren watched Charles steer the yacht out of the marina onto the open sea with ease, a soft smile on his lips. It didn’t take long and the coastlines of Monaco and France were long gone behind them and after a while there was only the Mediterranean sea on the horizon. Lauren was fascinated with how at ease Charles was, almost as if he wouldn’t do anything else in his life then sailing the oceans. The light breeze in his hair, the dimples on his face, it made him all look even more handsome.

"Alright, we’re on the right course now…" Charles checked the displays and got up from his seat "Let’s go downstairs, meet the rest of the group."

"Yeah… sure…" Lauren nodded and followed him down the stairs.

She was nervous, meeting the rest of the family, Ava’s mother and Charles’ best friend, as he told her would be here as well, but she put on a brave smile and entered the cabin.

"Ahh there you are, we were just getting everything ready for a little lunch!" Pascale smiled at them "I was about to send Arthur up to come and get you…"

"I’m starving!" Charles said, kissing his mother’s cheek "Where’s Ava?"

"Charlotte is changing her diaper." Arthur replied when he walked in, a pretty girl following him "Lauren, this is Carla, my girlfriend. Carla meet Lauren."

"Hi, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name!" Carla smiled at her, pulling her into a light embrace "Pascale talked a lot about you!"

"Yeah, I heard about that…" Lauren replied, smiling at Carla.

"Oh don’t worry, she only said good things about you!"

"There are only good things to say about her!" Pascale added, smiling fondly at her young assistant, making her blush.

The door to the cabins downstairs opened and a breathtaking beautiful young woman walked out, cradling Ava to her chest. Lauren was sure that she must’ve been her mother. Ava didn’t look particularly like her, but just from how beautiful she was, her big smile, she was sure.

"All clean again!" she said in French "Oh, sorry! Hi, you must be Lauren! I’m Charlotte." she switched to English and smiled at her.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Lauren replied.

"Enzo will be out in a minute he had to change, this little one here peed on him…" she chuckled.

"Not funny!" a young man, Enzo probably, said, walking through the door "Hi Lauren! It feels like I already know you from how much Maman was talking about you! I’m Lorenzo, or Enzo, the older brother."

"The oldest. It’s just us…" Arthur whispered.

"Anyways. It’s nice to finally meet you in person!" Lorenzo smiled at Lauren.

"Nice to meet you too." she replied and watched how he gently slung his arm around Charlotte’s waist, pulling her to his side.

The movement felt intimate, lovingly, and Lauren wondered if her assumption, that Charlotte must be Ava’s mother and therefore Charles girlfriend, was right. As if Charlotte sensed her confusion she smiled at her.

"I’m Lorenzo’s girlfriend."

"Oh, okay… I thought that… umm- never mind…" Lauren said hastily when Ava turned her head a little and the moment she spotted Charles and Lauren she began to happily babble.

"Oh, sure, you see your dad and the rest of us is long forgotten…" Charlotte joked and walked over to Charles, but right when she wanted to hand him his daughter the little girl held her hand out to Lauren, chortling "Ohhh look at that…" Charlotte handed Ava over to Lauren and she immediately snuggled into her chest, sighing contently.

"Ouch… looks like you’re not her favourite any-…" Arthur laughed but stopped when Charles looked at him.

"It’s like I said… she has good taste in who she likes…" he smiled, gently brushing over Ava’s cheek "Really good taste."

"Sorry…" Lauren replied and he looked at her confused.

"For what?"

"I don’t know… she umm- she probably wanted to you… not me…" she said quietly and Charles began to laugh.

"Oh stop it, really." he smiled "She likes you, that’s not a bad thing!"

Lauren nodded slowly, feeling relieved and then looked down at Ava, half asleep.

"Oh wow, look! She’s almost asleep! This fast! Lauren, you’re a natural!" Arthur said impressed.

"Who’s a natural?" a dark haired boy walked inside, a plate of veggies and a basket full of bread in his hands "Ohhh the famous Lauren is here! I was wondering when Charles would finally come down and let us all meet you! He wanted you all to himself as it seemed…"

"Very funny, Joris…" Charles rolled his eyes "Lauren, this is my best friend, Joris. He thinks he’s funny… which he’s not…"

"You’re right… I’m not funny, I’m hilarious!" Joris wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at Lauren "It’s nice to meet you, Lauren… these boys went crazy about you, from all the things Pascale has told us about you!"

"Okay, okay, stop now! Leave her alone. That poor girl has to hear from all of you how much I talked about her all the time and feels uncomfortable if you people can’t tell!" Pascale stepped in and Lauren blushed a little "They are right, dear, I told them about you because I wanted you to meet them all. And now that that happened, let’s stop hogging at her like that, will you?"

Everyone mumbled in agreement and Lauren smiled shyly.

"It’s okay…" she said, looking down at Ava who made a little sound, but was still fast asleep.

"Here, you can put her down…" Charles lewd her to the side where a little crib stood and Lauren gently placed the little girl in the middle of it.

"She’s really gorgeous…" she whispered, loving the way Ava’s nose was scrunching up a little.

"She is…" Charles agreed and smiled at the way how Lauren looked at his daughter "Now come on, let’s eat…"

Lauren sat on the deck, stargazing when a shadow to her left caught her eye and she watched Charles making his way onto the deck.

"I guess I’m not the only one who couldn’t sleep then?" he said quietly and she nodded slightly.

"Yeah, I guess I first have to get used to the rocking of the boat while sleeping…"

"Oh. Yeah. That takes a few nights…" Charles chuckled looking at the girl next to him.

Lauren wore shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair a messy bun on top of her head, but to Charles she looked breathtaking and he had to force himself to look away, to not keep on staring at her.

"Can I ask you something?" her voice hesitant.

"Sure."

"It’s really private and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable."

"Ask me." he knew the question already.

"Umm-… where is Ava’s mum?" Lauren looked at him and he kept his eyes trained on the dark horizon.

Lauren knew that she went too far, Charles was too quiet and right when she wanted to apologise he sighed, tilting his head to look at her.

"She’s not in our life. She never was… she didn’t want to be a mum, didn’t want to keep Ava, so I decided to take care of her alone. As a single dad…" there was some bitterness in his voice "It was a one night stand. A stupid mistake I made and when Ava’s mother came to me for help we wanted to give her up for adoption right after she was born… my life… my job, it’s hectic, stressful. I’m never for long in one place. Always on the road… I had to focus on my career, being a father didn’t fit into my lifestyle. And she didn’t want to be a mother. Not to a child with me at least. She’s from a religious and conservative family, they would’ve disown her if she was pregnant unmarried. Not in a relationship with the child’s father… so yeah, we had a plan…"

"But then you saw Ava and couldn’t do it?"

"No… it was even earlier… I saw her heartbeat on the ultrasound screen and I knew this little thing was mine… and I would do everything for it… flash forward and I have this beautiful little girl…" his voice wavered a little when he held up his phone that showed Ava sleeping in her crib.

"I would say you made the right decision. Ava… she’s wonderful…" Lauren smiled at him.

"Yeah… I know I made the right decision, but it’s hard… being away so often… leaving her behind all the time…"

"Okay, I have to ask this, what do you do for a living?" Lauren looked at him and Charles made big eyes.

"You don’t know?"

"No? How?"

"You’re living in Monaco?"

"And?" she was confused.

"And? Maman? She didn’t say anything?"

"No…"

"Okay… umm- well I’m a Formula 1 driver… for Ferrari…"

"Oh. Wow. That’s cool… I guess?"

"You guess?" Charles snorted and Lauren looked at him sheepishly "I guess you’re not into Formula 1 then?"

"No- not really… some of my family were but I never cared for 20 guys driving in circles…" she shrugged and Charles looked offended.

"Driving in circles? We are not driving in circles!" he gently nudged her shoulder "Ouch. That really hurts!"

"I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!" Lauren chuckled, a sound Charles loved to hear.

"Yeah I can hear that! Unbelievable…" he shook his head laughing "Driving in circles… unbelievable… thank god you’re cute, otherwise I would’ve thrown you overboard!"

"Now you’re exaggerating!" Lauren laughed, although she felt her cheeks reddening.

"Absolutely not!" Charles shook his head.

"I’m very sorry for not knowing who you are, what you do and how big of a thing it is. Please accept my sincere apology." Lauren smiled at him.

"Apology accepted… but I’m coming back to this conversation and then-…" he began when Ava’s faint cries were heard from his phone "She saved you. For now…" he laughed and got up "You should also try to get some sleep…" he held out his hand and Lauren sighed, taking it.

"I guess I have to try and get used to the waves…"

"You definitely have to. We spent a lot of time on the water… and as part of the Leclerc clan, you will too." Charles smiled at her and when Lauren climbed into her bed, she couldn’t stop smiling, thinking about Charles words.

She was part of the Leclerc clan?

Lauren stepped off the dinghy onto the dock, looking at the big house in front of her and she gulped. Never before did she see a house, no mansion, like this before. It was huge. Beautiful. The pool alone was bigger than in some hotels she’s been before. The lawn looked so fresh, green and soft, she just wanted to lay down on it.

"What do you say?" Charles asked her and she tilted her head, looking at him with big eyes.

"I have no words…" Lauren replied and he laughed.

"I take it that’s something good?"

"It is… it really is…"

"Wait until you’ve seen the inside!" Carla took her hand and pulled Lauren with her "When Arthur showed me the pictures I was just… I was speechless!" the younger girl was excited and didn’t stop until they stood in the big living room and Lauren looked around.

It looked straight out of an interior design magazine. Everything was in warm shades of cream, beige and white. The huge windows let in the bright sunlight. The sofas looked like they were made out of the softest of fabrics. But what caught her eye was the big book shelf that spanned across the entire wall. It was like a library, from Shakespeare over Emily Brontë to The Lord of the Rings, a wide variety of different books were to find and she couldn’t stop herself from carefully pulling out a book here and there that piqued her interest. She completely forgot about where she was, or how long she was already looking through the books when Charles voice behind her made Lauren flinch and she turned around.

"What do you say?" he repeated his question from outside again.

"Wow…" was all she could say and he smiled.

"Wow indeed…"

"I was already saying to your mum that I need to find a bookstore so I could buy a book or two because… well this vacation was on such short notice that I didn’t have anything to read… but I guess that won’t be necessary anymore…"

"Nope, there are enough books for you to read…" Charles replied "Ready to see your room?"

Lauren only nodded and followed Charles through the house when he lead her to a hallway with 3 doors on each side. He opened the middle one on the right and walked inside, Lauren right on his heels.

"And this is your room…"

"Always when I think it can’t get any better this place surprises me even more…" she let out and walked over to the big French doors that lead onto the terrace with a beautiful view of the pool and the sea.

"My room is next to yours. I let you unpack and get settled… if you need anything, just let me know." Charles smiled and turned around, ready to leave the girl alone.

"Wait!" she went after him and when he turned around again Lauren hugged him "Thank you. Really."

"You don’t have to thank me!" Charles whispered, gently stroking her back.

"Yes I have to. You didn’t have to take me here with you…"

"I told you last night. You’re part of the Leclerc clan now…" he chuckled and Lauren pulled away a little, looking into his eyes.

"Well… then thank you for that…"

Lauren stood in front of the mirror, pulling the flimsy fabric into place. When she bought the bikinis a couple of weeks ago she didn’t think that she would spent a family vacation with her boss and her sons in Sardinia. But now that she looked in the big mirror in the bathroom she wasn’t sure if going out with what she was wearing was appropriate. She groaned frustrated and tried on the dark red bikini, that covered slightly more but still felt too exposed. She could hear some commotion outside at the pool and carefully pushed the curtain to the side, looking outside. She saw Charlotte sitting on a lounger and she wished she could see what she was wearing and if she was worried for nothing.

"Where’s Lauren?" she heard Carla’s voice from somewhere and stepped away from the window "Lauren?" she knocked on the French door.

"Come in…" Lauren replied.

"You’re missing out on all the fun!" she said when she stepped into the bathroom "Everything okay?" she was looking her up and down.

"It’s inappropriate, isn’t it?"

"What do you mean?" Carla asked confused.

"The bikini, I saw how you looked at it…"

"What? Oh god… no…" she laughed "It’s a bikini? What’s inappropriate about it? I was just thinking that I have the same one, but in a different colour."

"Isn’t it like a little too revealing?"

"And what am I wearing? Half of my ass is out!" she turned around showing Lauren the tight fit of her bikini bottoms "It’s a normal bikini. Were you hiding in here because of that?"

"I… Pascale is my boss… that’s her son’s out there… there’s a baby!" Lauren blushed and Carla gently patted her arm.

"It’s cute that you’re this considerate, but don’t worry. It’s all good! And now come on!" she pulled Lauren with her and together they stepped outside.

It was easy to fit into the group of people and it didn’t take long for Lauren to truly believe into Charles words, that she was a part of the Leclerc clan now.

As the sun was slowly starting to set over the horizon, Lauren stretched a little, soaking in the last rays of sunshine when she decided to have a quick shower before dinner. Only Arthur and Carla were still at the pool, the rest was already getting ready for dinner.

"See you later…" she smiled and got up, making her way over to the terrace, walking straight into, what she thought, was her bathroom. She didn’t notice the lack of her toiletries on the vanity, or the dark swim shorts that were hanging over the towel rack. She only wanted to wash the day off of her and pulled off her bikini top, then stepped out of her bottoms. She stepped inside the shower, starting the water stream and closed her eyes, relaxing. Her skin was hot and dry and she knew that she needed to moisturise her whole body after her shower but for now she just enjoyed the spray of the water. After a couple of minutes she grabbed the bottle of body wash that was provided, lathering her whole body up, it smelled masculine, pine wood and bergamot, but the scent was somehow familiar. She washed the last remaining bubbles off her body and grabbed one of the towels from the shelf, wrapping it around her, before she stepped outside of the bathroom, colliding with a warm, muscular body.

"Oh shit… shit… oh my god… I’m so sorry! I- I must’ve taken the wrong door outside… oh god…" Lauren’s face was flushed, her breathing ragged. She clutched the towel tight to her body, hoping that everything was covered "I’m- I’m so sorry!" she repeated.

"It’s okay… really! Umm- I- I didn’t even look, I didn’t see anything! I mean how? You’re wearing a towel! Do you say you’re wearing a towel? Sounds weird, no?" Charles rambled nervously, turning around and feeling all his blood rush down between his legs, just like when he saw Lauren stepping out in her bikini for the first time earlier today. That damn red bikini that made him feel like an aroused pre teen.

"I just grab my bikini and then I’m leaving! I’m so sorry, Charles…" he heard her walking back into the bathroom "I can’t believe it, this is so embarrassing…" she mumbled.

"Please, don’t be embarrassed! It’s okay, nothing happened…" Charles tried to reassure her but she didn’t reply, after a minute of silence he turned around, Lauren was gone "Damn…" he groaned and let himself fall into his bed, taking a deep breath.

It was only the first day and he was already wondering how he should manage to contain himself for the next two and a half weeks.

"This will be funny…" he sighed.

Chapter 11 - it’s summer break ☀️🕶️🏝️ and the family + Lauren need a little time to relax. They deserve it… and what can I say, Charles will have a hard time watching this gorgeous girl fitting into his life so effortlessly wearing nothing but cute bikinis… more next week 🤭

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc @fangirlforever2000 @guaaafiiburg

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the ending!!

I'm soooo sorry nonny. This took 5ever. For some reason, I mentally decided that the completion of this ask would be the end of my Onyx Storm era, and then I didn't want to go near it because I didn't want the book to be done :(. However, I was brave, and I did it. This got insanely obscenely long, so you're getting Xaden's chapter 65 now, and then I'll reblog with Vi's LAST chapter some other time.

Chapter 65: Xaden

Veninism: I think the first thing that comes up in this chapter is the insight into the venin mindset. Xaden's significantly more intense (both than earlier in the book, and in his previous POV chapters). At first, I wasn't a huge fan of the "ice" thing, because I missed the part where he explains it (perks of reading till 5 in the morning) and I thought it was some anachronistic hockey reference. (Fun fact: I wrote this out before Rebecca gave that interview revealing that, yes, it WAS an anachronistic hockey reference. I know that lady WELL.) HOWEVER! The way it's explained here, (essay below the cut)

"Wrath courses like a current under the ice I willingly skate onto, cutting my emotions like the burdens they are so I can be the weapon she needs." (Yarros, 520)

reminds me a lot of a PTSD flashback/trauma event. Not only does this make significantly more sense with the metaphor at hand, but it makes a lot more sense with Rebecca's body of work. I know she's made addiction comparisons, and I can see some lines, but, frankly, I think it's a much more intricate web than a 1-1 metaphor. Especially with the use of the word "triggered" to describe what happens to him when he is "on the ice" as it were, I think (if anything) it's about using an addiction to cope with PTSD-type trauma.

Bond Fuckery: After revealing that Xaden cannot kill the sage himself, he goes on to say,

"I could no more raise a blade to his throat than I could Violet. The bond between Violence and me is the kind of magic that has no explanation." (Yarros, 521)

Which....is weird! Given that we have a precise explanation for said bond in Fourth Wing, maybe something else is going on? #the power of love?? I'm not trying to say they're soul mates in any real tangible way because this is not that kind of story, but I do think it means something. I just don't know what yet.

Further bond fuckery themes are found earlier in the book. There's the entire situation with Andarna leaving, in which Leothan says,

"Bonds are merely magical ties. You are irid. You are magic. Bend it, shape it, break it as you see fit." (Yarros, 443)

I've definitely seem some people floating the idea that perhaps Andarna broke Tairn and Sgaeyl's mating bond, re: Tairn's suspicious period of rest on page 526, (I personally thought he was tired from killing some dragons!) and I definitely think that's a possibility. However, I think it's really interesting that, specifically, Leothan also says bend it and shape it. I know we're supposed to finish the book thinking that Andarna/Leothan severed Violet's bond with Andarna, and then re-forged said bond mid-battle. To me...that doesn't really make sense? There was no real moment where you can say, okay, bond re-forged. It just kind of happens? Which I suppose is also how it happens at threshing, so maybe I'm the problem. Still, I think the idea that perhaps Andarna (or another irid??? given her 1 week of training???) bent or reshaped Tairn and Sgaeyl's mating bond (in order to protect Xaden/Xaden's mission/Violet from the consequences of Xaden's mission) is worth considering.

There's also the entire element of modern AU no magic isles. I know a lot of people thought that entire quest section of the book was filler, but I disagree. I definitely think that insertion was meant to demonstrate that the bonds are not as infallible as we've been led to believe, to show their importance to Xaden and Violet, and to further show just how much Andarna is not like other dragons, and therefore able to do shit with the bond.

Xaden's new brother! Xaden starts off describing the new venin by saying,

"and now that my sage has a new sibling he can use against me...I'm screwed." (Yarros, 521)

Then, he goes on to add:

"...my new brother and the unconscious dragon lying in the valley...how could he do this? Choose this after watching me stumble and fall over the last five months. How could he willingly walk the path I've fought like hell to leave? He's the last person I ever would have expected to turn, and yet here we are." (Yarros, 521)

My money's on Bodhi! There's a lot of "brother" mentions surrounding Bodhi, given the repeated descriptions of how similar he and Xaden look. He's "the closest thing (Xaden) has to a brother since Liam." Garrick even thought Theophanie called Bodhi his brother beforehand! It's Bodhi. Further nuance to Bodhi turning is found, in my opinion, in his frustration with Xaden's over-protection at the end of Onyx Storm. This feeling of impotence combined with something potentially happening to Cuir (re: unconcious dragon lying in the valley/Bodhi puking his guts up wherever that quote is) gives him a reason to turn.

I know @skyfallscotland thinks Xaden's new brother is actually Aaric, which is also super intriguing. Specifically, Amy suggested a scenario where Aaric knows he needs to be venin in order to win the war, and is willing to do whatever it takes to get to the future he sees. I do lean more towards Bodhi than Aaric, if only because of the element of knowing for 5 months (which Aaric does not--even if he finds out about Xaden's veninism from his signet, RY has confirmed Aaric didn't manifest in IF, and therefore it cannot have been five months prior to Battle of Draithus), Xaden really seems to care about this new brother. I know he says he has a "complicated sort of loyalty" to Aaric, but I don't think he and Aaric at the friendship level where Aaric can be used against him in the same way Bodhi can. There's also the whole having to give Vi Tyrrendor ordeal. I know some people think Xaden may have had a change of heart and decided to listen to Bodhi in regards to not forcing him to lead Tyrrendor in his stead, and/or Xaden just felt giving Vi the province directly (what a wedding gift!) was the best possible way to protect her. Who knows, not me. I think of Xaden as someone not particularly inclined to listening to people when he doesn't feel like it, but I also know he'll prioritize Vi regardless, so it could go either way.

Slayer! This is just for the one line mention of Berwyn killing the dragons with the alloy dagger. For one thing, I think this draws parallels between the venin and the dragons (which have been a theme the entire series). For another, I think this is how Xaden, Vi, and co. go about killing the dragons and elders in order to get to the eggs. Seems a lot less messy!

Everything, Everywhere, All At Once: Throughout the text, there's a couple mentions of individuals inability to be everywhere all at once. Theophanie, in chapter 60, for example: (from my Kindle copy, so no page numbers, sorryyyy)

"You're just another lightning wielder, mortally incapable of being everywhere at once."

Or, the slightly different take from Mira in Chapter 23:

"Even if he did, we can't be in two places at once."

I have no idea why this got me so bad, but every time I read it, my spidey-senses tingled. I really feel like it means something. Xaden then wraps things up with saying he IS everywhere at once, on page 522 in regards to the veninism amplifying his shadow powers.

Do I know what this means? No! Of course not! At first, I thought it was a papa sorrengail is venin hint, but I don't actually believe in that. I have been holding out hope that perhaps Vi is somehow venin from Lilith (this is why I think papa sorrengail had her dedicated. it doesn't really make sense to me for Rebecca to write her with a real disability, and then have that real disability be a birth defect when it isn't one in real life. that just seems odd?) and I think this COULD be a hint there. Although, as always, who knows.

What is a soul if not love? Some of you may know, I've been getting a wee bit heated about the implications of the corporeal soul. I get a bit gagged by this because it makes no sense. I ask @maethologies probably once a day, what IS a soul? And to that question, I raise you this: what is a soul if not love?

page 523 has this:

""I love you.' Violet's voice cracks the cold, and a silken thread of warmth wedges itself in the opening before it seals shut, locking it in place. No. Wait. I grab for that thread with desperate hands, clawing to keep her as more of my pieces are blown away, lost to the void. She is warmth and light and air and love."

For starters, I think "she is warmth and light and air and love" is my favorite quote from the entire series. It makes me want to cry!!! There's definitely something to the fact that being venin makes Xaden colder, and Violet only seems to get warmer in this book (her lightning being hot enough to blister, for example). But really, my focus here is that he's so aggressively in love with her. I genuinely do not know how people read this line, or the rest of the novel, and somehow thought Xaden was just going to go join up with the venin. Genuinely! I am REALLY not trying to be mean, it just makes no sense to me.

I'm going to go a bit out of order here to further contextualize, but other Xaden Riorson bangers include:

"What even am I? Hers." (Yarros, 524)

And, far earlier in the text, when Courtlyn asks to whom Xaden swears his fealty:

"Violet. (...) My loyalty is to Violet first above everything, everyone else." (this is a Kindle page number because I don't want to find it in my book, LMAO, but it's 326 in that format!)

Again, he's constantly making it as clear as humanly possible that SHE comes first for him. He is not going to spontaneously gain venin loyalty. Whatever soul-fuckery is going on here, it doesn't make him incapable of love. If anything, the presence of love is what is going to continue to save him. In the chapter 48 epigraph, in which a scenario is described wherein a venin returns to their village, desiccating an entire village except for her husband and two children. Clearly, the theme here is that the feeling of love helps venin gain control of themselves when lost to the thrall of power, if you will.

Frankly, there's a LOT of issues with venin as a concept and how willing the fan base is to accept the characterization of the entire "enemy" as evil, soulless, and incapable of feeling and love. Just on the most basic level, think about the real world implications of that ideology for about ten seconds. If you can't do that, think about it in-universe. The entire point of books one and two were that Navarre's government perpetuated a narrative of dehumanization in regards to the Poromish people so that Navarrians could see them as the enemy. This tactic of dehumanization is then DIRECTLY applied to the venin. The narrative on the surface-level is: These people ARE human, but these other guys are the REAL monsters. Please kill THEM instead. I cannot tell you how many times I've seen people say "Violet's never killed anyone in the series, she only kills venin!" The very fact of saying these people aren't human; therefore they can die...do you see what I see? I know I'm a bit more thematically minded than the average romantasy reader, but it's really VERY in your face here.

The most obvious narrative purpose for Xaden choosing to turn is that it gives Violet and the reader a way to humanize the venin, just like working with the gryphon fliers in part two allowed us all to humanize them. After I finished IF, there was not a doubt in my mind that this was where Rebecca was going.

And she went there...a little bit? She's about halfway there, I'd say. Violet has started to internally reconcile with the fact that Xaden being a venin makes it impossible for her to generalize venin any further, but there's definitely still an undercurrent of "he's not like other venin!!" I think this COULD be a logical progression of the story, and, partially, I think it makes sense for it to take a minute for her thought processes to shift. However, I think it needs to be better layered? And I think that when you have a book like this one with such a low barrier to entry, you need to do a bit more thematic hand-holding if you want people to really get things.

Anyway, this was all to say: Xaden loves her, and so, his soul is fine. HE's fine. He's not evil, he didn't marry her just to leave, he's not "team venin". Etc! I could go on about this further, and I think before book 4 I'll be pushed over the edge and do so. But, for now, I do think the direction Rebecca is pushing for is the "cure" being the power of love et. al.

Mommy Issues: We come back to Sgaeyl! I know some people think Sgaeyl breaks the bond with Xaden as part of his 12 hour plan, and again, I ask: literally how.

Basically, unlike his mother, Sgaeyl isn't leaving Xaden. When he breaks through the pulling from the earth haze, he asks Sgaeyl if she forsakes him, and she says:

"'What is there left of you to forsake?' Sgaeyl lowers her head and steam gusts down the canyon, reminding me of the moment she found me in the forest at threshing. (Yarros, 523)

My direct annotation here is : threshing! Threshing = choice. And I'm right! Threshing does equal choice. She has the option to forsake him, and she doesn't! Case closed. I will say, just as a side note, the idea that she'd leave him for being extra venin is wack as hell when he became extra venin for her. I don't think she was that heated about him being venin in the first place: the focus of her ire at the end of IF was that he "picked" Violet. "You cannot! I chose you!/ But Violet chose me too." She's just a pick me dragon at heart.

Quest Squad (Xaden's Version) I touched on this in response to my other ask about the ending, but now we're gonna go beat by beat.

Xaden starts what I call the quest intro by responding to Sgaeyl's threshing part 2 with:

"'You tell me.' I lower the ice and let her in."

Clearly, this is Xaden showing Sgaeyl whatever plan he's been concocting in his head.

Sgaeyl's response:

"Her next breath is laced with sulfur, and her eyes widen. 'You cannot mean to--'"

Now, this is just needlessly vague to make sure we buy the next book. Like we weren't going to anyway. Thank you for extorting me, Red Tower. However, at the very least, it reveals that his plan is, shall we say, problematic? Controversial? Illegal?

Then, we have (from Xaden)

"'You saw what happened. It is the only way.' She glances over her shoulder. 'And you think she'll help?' 'She loves me.' 'Tairn does not, and you haven't looked in a mirror yet. The red veins branching from your eyes look like her lightning.' 'She'll help.' It comes out with a hell of a lot more certainty than I feel. 'She promised.'"

Line by line time!

"it is the only way" is mad interesting from Xaden "the right way isn't the only way" Riorson. It could just be the influence of being venin on his psyche---everything feels more serious now, and he himself is more intense. But it's such an interesting switch, especially since Violet's assumed his way of thinking from FW.

At first I thought the pronoun fuckery in SHE'll help/SHE loves me was meant to indicate that the she in question was not actually Violet, but I don't think so anymore. I do think it's intentionally misleading! Again, for the money. But, more than that, I think Sgaeyl is glancing over her shoulder AT Violet and Tairn to indicate who they're yapping about.

Now, how will she help? I think this is a separate quandary than the marriage (hence where I broke up the text). Personally, I think this is him saying Vi goes with him to get the eggs/kill the dragons/etc.

The veins branching from his eyes are intriguing. I know he says he's no longer an initiate on this page, but I don't think he's an Asim either? According to Mr. Drake Cordella's venin compendium, Asim's veins distend only when riled, but Sage's veins are perpetually distended. (Iron Flame chapter 47 epigraph). I guess we'll see? I don't know, it would make sense to me if he was a sage, but who knows.

And, finally, what the hell did she promise?

WAY earlier on in the book, Xaden says:

"Swear you'll sound the alarm if I go too far, that you'll keep it safe, even if it's from me." (Yarros, 58)

This is what I think he's referring to! I know @hockeyspiral23 thinks the 'it' in question is actually the sword of Tyrrendor (correct me if I'm wrong!!) and not Tyrrendor itself. I definitely think there's something to that theory.

A few pages later, Xaden says:

"I'll use Tyrrendor to protect you, not you to protect Tyrrendor." (Yarros, 102)

Not to be a broken record, but again: Intentionally! Misleading! Content! I think you're SUPPOSED to interpret the promise as Violet saying she'll protect Tyrrendor from Xaden, and Xaden saying he's "gone too far". But when you actually look at the text, there's no way that's what he's saying. First of all, why would Sgaeyl think THAT plan wouldn't work with Tairn? Tairn does NOT fuck with Xaden right now. And then, why would Xaden Riorson, president and CEO of the Violet Sorrengail fan club, prioritize Tyrrendor over Violet? He cares about Tyrrendor, sure, but in the face of VIOLET? It doesn't compare. It just doesn't! ("I love you more than this city. Do not die defending it.") He's not winning any king of the year awards with those priorities, but that doesn't make it any less true. I basically already have a post ranting about this, (here! If you're curious) so I'm going to cut myself off here. Basically, we have to remember who Xaden actually is when we try to contextualize this vague ass chapter.

And then, wedding bells!

"'Even if she agrees, no one will--'

'Someone owes me a favor.'" (Yarros, 524)

This is the part of the quest that I think is more directly the marriage issue. This has already been covered elsewhere, but the Priestess from Dunne's temple says she owes Xaden a favor earlier on. She goes on to officiate their marriage. I just think the wording makes it clear that this is a multi-step plan. (How can Violet "help" with her own marriage?)

I already quoted the absolute banger "What even am I? Hers." But I'm going to bring it up again! His loyalty, primarily, is to Violet. Whatever quest he's going on, it's FOR HER. He steals the eggs FOR HER. He''s taking them somewhere FOR HER. I don't know how to make that any clearer, but if I keep seeing people misinterpret it, I'll probably try again.

Agency!

The final bit I'm going to pull is Sgaeyl saying:

"And her decision will determine our fate." (Yarros, 524).

I think this just really succinctly makes clear my 573938503 argument above. Violet gets final say on Quest Squad (Xaden's Version) but whatever he does do, he's doing it with Sgaeyl. I know there's some good bits Rebecca's said throughout the tour that support this interpretation, but I don't think I need them quite yet. Maybe next time!

For now, that's all. I'll see y'all back here with Violet's chapter in a bit!

[angelsdean]

hot take maybe but actually i do expect my mom to comfort me and make me an ice cream sundae when i’m sad even when i get to 40 and she’s 70. my grandma does that for her still. it’s not. limiting her. it’s not saying she only has to be my mommy. i have taken care of her too. it’s saying we love each other and want to take care of each other. mary struggling to be able to interact with grown up sam and dean was very very valid and understandable and i love her for it. she also could’ve maybe tried a little more anyway. they could’ve lent on each other. idk.

Yea i've said before that I think it's a bit outrageous the way people seem to think someone stops being a parent once their child reaches adulthood. Maybe it's a cultural thing, I don't know, but the whole idea of "once your kid turns 18 they're out the door and not your problem anymore" is so deeply flawed IMO. But yea I focus more on "debunking" the claim that Dean expects some sort of motherly coddling / babying from Mary because that seems to be the deancrit take I see the most with regards to this arc / the "i'm not just a mom" scene.

But for sure many people seem to have some weird ideas IMO about what it means to be a parent. Like I think you can feel for Mary and understand that parents can and are more than just parents, but also understand that they will never stop BEING a parent either. Their kids will always be their kids. It's why people always say being a parent is a full time job, not something to go into lightly, that you should be sure you actually want kids and understand that having them is a lifelong commitment etc etc. And having kids makes them become your priority, even when you want to be selfish you always have to try to put them first. Obviously that lessens as they grow up but like, if your adult child were injured or had some kind of health issue / challenges as a parent it's still your job to be there for them, to support them, to care for them. That doesn't just end at 18. It's why *I* know that even though I like the idea of kids I probably never will have any because it's so much responsibility and because those kids are always always going to come first, forever! That's kind of part of the parental "contract" IMO. And even when they're adults, a parent should still be the one person in the world your kid can turn to, rely on, seek comfort in.

And I understand these expectations are complicated in this particular narrative by the fact that Mary died young and is not equipped to be a mother to adults. I think that's such a delicious component that I wish they leaned into more. She is grieving her babies. She is allowed to feel those feelings and feel confused and unsure and struggle with accepting this new dynamic with her children. But a big part of Mary's arc in s12, which culminates in 12x22 with "I need you to see me" is that she is the one stuck in the past, needing to accept her reality and "SEE" her children for who they are now. That's what the arc is moving towards, that acceptance. And after s12 we see her and Dean have a better relationship. We see her still getting to be Mary the person AND Mary the "mom." She hunts, she comes and goes, but she's someone Dean can talk to, share a meal with, spend time together. It's what he always wanted most. He tells her in 14x11 that "just knowing you're around, that you're alive has meant everything to me."

Anyways, I won't ramble about all that again because I've made a bunch of posts about it already. But yes, I think it's normal for Dean (and Sam) to want Mary to comfort them, do nice things for them, the way any parent or really a family member in general might do. They are not asking for kisses on their boo-boos and getting tucked into bed with a bedtime story, which is how a lot of deancrit posts read. What they want is some sort of familial reciprocal care. Like the way Dean spends quality time with those he loves. The way he baked a cake for Jack. Cooks for his family. The way he gives people gifts. The way he fixes Cas's truck. The way he calls to check in on people. He doesn't do these things out of some obligation or playing some "role", he does them because he cares. Because he loves his family, and that's just what family does for each other.

Someone in my tags last night said it very well that what Dean really wanted was just, another family member, to spend time with, to share their joys and burdens with. Someone like Bobby, that he could turn to if he needed. Bobby was a parent figure but he wasn't "parenting" them, y'know? He was someone Dean could lean on, but he didn't expect Bobby to shoulder all his burdens. And I think that's what Dean wants most. Just someone he can lean on and rely on, since he's been having to be the strong one for everyone his whole life.

[gogandmagog]

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Anne of the Island, Chapter Three!

Here comes Redmond! It would be on a Monday, too.

Two things I really, really love: that Di and Anne wanted to drive to the station together, and Anne’s sense of foreboding/little “presentiment” that she was actually leaving Green Gables forever. Of course, we readers know this to be true, but we thankfully have the advantage of knowing yet another truth... that yes, Anne can be happy somewhere else. I also wonder how much of Anne’s foresight is linked, in terms of the bends-in-the-road, to the appeal and/or dread of the ferry itself (as last time she was a passenger, it brought her from the asylum to Green Gables), because it seems to be the very vehicle of Anne’s shifting futures.

“Dora […] was one of those fortunate creatures who are seldom disturbed by anything.” Funny. I can’t tell if this is supposed to be her natural-born disposition or if it’s a defense mechanism learned by way of necessity, on account of having Davy for a brother.

Something else (of virtual inconsequence) that I like to note about the boat interlude, is that Anne’s internal monologue demonstrates clear annoyance towards Charlie, supposing that he’d be only pretending to be sentimental about watching PEI disappear from their sight... when only one or two lines later, it’s Gilbert that’s actually openly unsentimentally commenting, “Well, we’re off!” But Anne is somehow rather fine with that, lmao. I suppose it’s just the pretense that bugs her. Or maybe it’s the pretense of Charlie being able to relate to her feelings that bugs her? Meanwhile, there’s zero pretense in Anne’s ability to comfortably share her truest feelings with Gilbert. Cute!

That Gilbert’s not-so-very-sentimental over leaving Avonlea is not particularly strange, either. He is 21, and he has been largely out of his parents home, experiencing self-reliance, for over a year now, while boarding and teaching at White Sands. The age gap between Anne and Gilbert is nearly always negligible, but here in this one book I do think it’s occasionally a little glaring. Anne’s just a wee and nervous fledgling, dipping a pinky toe into the pool of independence, where as Gilbert’s wings are strong, and already maturely developed. 

Anne of the Island, Chapter Four!

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Every time I read this chapter, I’m reminded of the main difference between Anne of Windy Poplars and Anne of Windy Willows… which is that the Canadian publisher, for Windy Poplars, was mighty concerned about Maud’s fixation on graves and cemeteries and gruesome deaths throughout the text, and asked for quite a lot of it to be cut out. The English (Windy Willows, that is), however, really said doooon’t care. 🤓

Much respect and credit due to the Montgomery scholars, who have over the years hunted up and presented the following photos of Old St. Paul’s Burying Ground in Halifax, as close as possible to how it would’ve looked, for Anne and Pris and Phil.

Pris feeling like an ‘elephant’ at registration because of her considerable height, besides just making me sad for her, is always a source of curiosity for me. Anne is tall too... but she is proud of this, and when people speak of Anne being tall, it’s always in a tone of admiration. So, I wager we can guess that Pris must dwarf Anne’s tall? In the 1880s, historical data generalises that the average Canadian woman was 160 cm or 5’3[ish]. Anne, being ‘tall’, was probably 165 cm or 5’5, soooo Pris, markedly feeling enormous, maybe 172 cm? 5’8? This would be boyishly tall, since the average man of this time-period was the same 172 cm or 5'8.

Phil! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Btw who’s gonna take one for the team and dream up an “Anne of Mount Holly” fic, an (obvious) AU where Anne’s mum Bertha and Phil’s mum were pals (since they’re from the same city, after all), and it ends up it’s actually the Gordon’s that take Anne in, when her parents pass. An Anne from luxury, instead of an asylum.

“Thanks,” laughed Anne, “but Priscilla and I are so firmly convinced of our own good looks that we don’t need any assurance about them, so you needn’t trouble.” How far Anne has come. I think of that Louisa May Alcott quote, “love is a great beautifier.” Maud also leans heavily into love as transformative/beautifier for so many of her girls, and imo this is a pretty great message and overall universal truth, security and kindness giving way to confidence.

Okay, but between the two, as described, am I on crack or is the obvious choice not Alec? Or maybe I’m prejudiced against the name Alonzo, as well.

Anne going cold on Phil the second she mentions finding Gilbert ‘really handsome’ is soooy charmingly Anneish. Bonus points to Pris here, because evidentially she knew to begin preparing to leave in that moment too. Girlish solidarity.

The connection between Phil and Ruby is yet another point of interest to me. They share nearly the very same lines, sometimes, here specifically when we march steadily backwards to Anne of Green Gables when of Ruby the narrative asserts for her, "Frank Stockley had lots more dash and go, but then he wasn’t half as good-looking as Gilbert and she really couldn’t decide which she liked best!" Compared of course to Phil’s, “I like them both so much that I really don’t know which I like the better.”

Anne of the Island, Chapter Five!

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Gilbert Blythe is good at everything he puts the tiniest amount of effort into. 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌 He’s class president, he’s football captain, and he’s singled out among the other members of the freshman class, to join a frat. Niiiiice. I know I’ve totally yapped about it before, but I think it’s wildly intriguing that Maud put Gilbert into Lamba Theta, when irl there were only three frats existing across all of Canada. Even when she attended Dalhousie, almost two decades after Anne and Gilbert attend Redmond. Small potatoes Dalhousie wouldn’t have a proper frat until 1923. So, I’m dying to know where from she gathered her frat info, especially as she’s obviously familiar with hazing/initiation processes. Elsewhere, the good news is: a Victorian-era frat was a legitimate intellectual and debate society, not a collection of dudebros in Sperrys, having beer pong championships at 9 am on a Tuesday.

“Gilbert Blythe won’t take any notice of me, except to look at me as if I were a nice little kitten he’d like to pat. Too well I know the reason. I owe you a grudge, Queen Anne.” Gilbert Blythe also has tunnel vision. You can line up every single one of the above ^ accolades, but none of them hold as strong or are even half so appealing as this; Gilbert’s capacity for fidelity. Phil’s the best-looking girl in her class, and besides which is also enormously clever and funny and affluent, and yet her attempts (“won’t take any notice of me” implies that Phil did try, and did seek said attention) fall flat. His heart has been spoken for since he was 13, you see.

Officially entering ‘Queen Anne’ 👑 into the registry of Anneisms.

"Even the grumpy old professor of Mathematics, who detested coeds, and had bitterly opposed their admission to Redmond, couldn’t floor her [Phil]." This was reputedly a real fellow iirc. In a magazine article from I think, 1912, A. Wylie Mahon published a review of Anne of the Island, in which he stated emphatically that “Redmond College is Dalhousie University” (true) and that the 'grumpy old professor of Mathematics, who detested coeds,' “was known to the students of his day as ‘Charlie'...” (possibly true).

“I don’t believe any but fools enter the ministry nowadays,” she wrote bitterly. PFFFT 😭😭😭 I laugh every time I read this letter. I wish I could correspond with Mrs Rachel.

I do wish I could forget about the ugly ‘big black man’ story that Davy shares, but is anyone familiar with “the old Harry” he refers to? 🧐 I’ve never been able to tell if this is a Mi’kmaq Gugwe reference or if it’s just supposed to mean literally like… some guy… named Harry. Orr?

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 18

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content, Spanking

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,565 of 47,525

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There are forty-seven steps between leaving the Upland Estate and killing Fiyero. The rest of the War Council has cleared out except for General Minkus, the Wizard, Madame Morrible, Tomathy, and me. The meeting and plans are on a strict need-to-know basis: no need for financial backers or anyone else that might let something slip from loose lips. The Wizard doesn't let me out of his grip the entire time, pulling me closer at any mention of possible danger.

"There isn't much cover," General Minkus says, sweeping his index finger down the straight railroad markings. "The train has been shut down, but the dirt road is still open. Over here, to the west, that's where they have their base camp set up. It's sheltered by some hillocks. They've set up some spike barricades here and here." His finger points to two hillocks that butt up to the walls of the Emerald City and dovetail perpendicularly together to form a triangle... except for a narrow sliver of a valley between them.

"One way in, one way out," I say.

"It's a good thing you sprained your wrist," Minkus says, pointing to the dirty bandages. The Wizard tightens his grip around my waist. "You sure Fiyero has a soft spot for you? The wounded animal ploy will only work if he wants to help."

"I'm sure," I say. It's a lie. Nothing was certain anymore

General Minkus looks to the Wizard. "He might take her as collateral if he thinks it'd make you surrender faster. We'd have to cut our losses."

"Yeah, well it won't come to that," The Wizard says, pulling me more to the side of him, away from the general. "We're going to be running scouts along the perimeter. She takes her time to go outside of camp to.... uh..." He waves his hand, and I try not to be embarrassed by what he’s implying in front of the most important people in Oz. "And we make sure she's okay. We’ll do it every day until she kills him, and then we’ll get her out immediately"

"It might be dangerous if we meet up immediately," I say. "I think we should give it two days. He's going to be watching my every move."

General Minkus nods at this. "She's right. If I were Fiyero, I wouldn’t even trust a known ally if they walked in halfway through a war. I wouldn't take my eyes off them. It’s been a week since the Lurlinemas ball."

"I don't care for this at all," the Wizard says. "Isn't there some other way? This… It just seems too risky. We've got the five thousand."

"Five thousand was good yesterday,” General Minkus says, “when our inside resources were twice as strong. With the barricades they've got set up, we're going to need everything we can get on them, including inside intel, maybe even a distraction."

"Or kidnapping," I say, grabbing the Wizard's arm. "I could seduce him out into an open area where it would just be him and me, and then you could take him hostage. It would put the war to an immediate end."

Oscar looks down at me with a chastising look of doubt, and I think for a brief moment I see his eyes darken at the thought of me seducing Fiyero at all. Best to be more mindful.

There's a knock on the doorway, and we all turn to see a blonde woman so thin and petite she could have been blown away with a strong breeze. She’s dressed all in pink, with a ridiculous arrangement of rose-colored ostrich feathers in her blonde hair. This must be Lady Upland, but it can't be: she's much younger than the woman in the portrait that hung in the office.

"Oh! So sorry," she says, her voice high and soft as a wind chime. "Auntie Lorinda didn't say anything about guests. It's so nice to meet you all." She offers a white gloved and thin hand in greeting, but startles when she notices General Minkus. "Oh!"

General Minkus says, "Miss-"

"Galinda," she says with a smile, crossing the room to offer her hand to him.

"Miss Galinda, this is a confidential meeting."

"How perfect! I just love meeting confident new people, They make life more exciting." Giving up on her vanishing goal of shaking the General's hand, she snaps in a pivot to me. "Don't you think so?"

I offer my hand to her, hoping not to call any attention to the private information behind her on the map. She takes my hand, and wraps her other hand around the back of mine, saying, "You know, I can tell a lot about a person just by saying hello." She stares into my eyes, narrowing hers. I think she's doing it to avoid blinking, to better stare all the way through me. "You've been traveling for days," she says, nodding her head. I nod with her, trying to play along. "Something tragic happened. You've been hurt recently." I try to steady my breathing, as if that will stop any reddening in my cheeks. Were the Wizard and I really that loud in the office? She grabs my injured wrist suddenly, gasping, "Oh! How horrible!"

"Are you a doctor?" I ask. How had I managed to turn this war meeting into a meet and greet?

"Me?" she says, blinking in disbelief. "No. Why? Do I look like one?"

"Ms. Galinda," Tomathy says, approaching us from the other side of the map table.

"Yes?" she replies with a cock of her head. Whatever image I had of her being taken away by a gust of wind was false. She was a perky pink parakeet, the way she chirped and flit with each new passing thing that caught her attention.

"You said that you knew she had been traveling for days. That's quite a remarkable observation."

"Oh, not really," she says with a laugh. "It's just the way..." she swallows and gives a nervous, high-pitched laugh. "Even if you all are confident people, it would be rude."

Tomathy smiles broadly. I think it is supposed to be an affable smile, but on him, it is always frighteningly toothy. "You're Lady Upland's niece, yes?"

Whatever faux pas she had imagined in her brain, it is now washed away and Galinda the parakeet is back. "Yes. I'm up here for Lurlinemas. I didn't know that she would have more guests. I heard you all talking up here, and I thought it was family, but, well, friends or family it makes no difference. The more, the merrier, right?"

"Of course, of course," Tomathy reassures her, putting an arm around her bird-boned shoulder. He takes me in his other arm, and I feel Oscar tense for the briefest of moments before he lets me go. "We're all here for Lurlinemas with Lady Upland, but your words got me to thinking."

"Yes?" Galinda says as we are escorted out of the library.

"My friend here, we can't have her looking like she's been traveling for days. Not on Lurlinemas."

"Oh. Oh, no!" Galinda agrees, grabbing his arm in excitement.

"Is there anyway you could make her look like she's ready for the best Lurlinemas party that anyone has ever thrown?"

Galinda gasps, and quickly hops out of his grasp. "I know it! I know just what to do! Stay here! I'll be right back. I- My luggage – oh, my luggage – it's downstairs. I'll..." She snaps in a pivot and is off flying down the foyer stairs.

"What in the name of Oz was that?" Tomathy breathes as he watches her hop across the white marble foyer on her pink parakeet legs.

"Lady Upland's niece, I'd say," Oscar says, scratching his cheek.

"How'd she know about the accident?" Tomathy asks.

"I don't know," Oscar says, "but I'm curious to see what else she's seeing that we're not."

________________________

We spend the rest of the day succumbing to Galinda's fashion whims, as she picks and prunes me into nearly what I looked like the night of the party.

When the night comes to a close, an Upland maid escorts us to our rooms. Oscar pulls me into his with an excuse that I am his personal valet and a generous tip to the maid (probably to keep her mouth shut).

"What happened to me being your daughter?" I ask after he closes the door. The room is dark, but rays of moonlight throw silvery shapes onto the cream carpet of the guest-of-honor room.

"If you want to call me daddy, I'm not going to stop you," he says, tossing his jacket onto one of the pale rococo chairs up against the wall. "One last night together. We can do whatever you want."

"You're not still mad from earlier?" I ask.

He walks through the moonbeams, letting them paint excitement onto the boring brown waistcoat and pants. I watch in envy as they trace his body, eager to let my fingers do the same in these last few hours of familiarity.

"Are you talking about the spanking?" he asks. "I wasn't mad. I just had to-"

"You were mad," I stop him. "It was wrong, but I knew it would make you mad to bring Fiy- him up. I could see it in your eyes."

He steps closer, shrouding himself in darkness once more, the ghostly glow kissing his cheeks and the silver stubble of his beard. "It doesn't matter if I'm mad or not," he says quietly, "we... I have a nation to run. Consequences are consequences."

I take his hand, admiring the taut skin of a foreign palm under my fingertips. Bringing it to my lips, I kiss a small scar on the side of his thumb. "What's the consequence of that?"

Our hands together come up to touch my face as he stoops to kiss me. His tongue tastes like warm cinnamon, and I remember looking over at him during Galinda's Great Big Fashion Makeover as she was slipping a green velvet dress onto me. His eyes were wolfish as he hollowed and unhollowed his cheeks, his tongue tossing a cinnamon candy he had grabbed out of a complimentary dish. Now, his tongue plunged into me, slipping warmly against mine in a plea as he pressed me closer to him, stomach to stomach, his fingers threading into my hair.

"Is it so severe?" I ask, breaking the kiss.

"Yes," he growls, picking me up so that I can wrap my legs around him. He walks us to the fluffy and overly-beaded and pillowed white bed, and kneels on it, careful in laying us down on the opulent quilt.

"What are we going to do?" I ask. The question could be about anything, really. I think, in the moment, I want the world to stop. I don't want the sun to rise, I don't want Oz to have a leader. Why can't it just be me and Oscar in the warmth of a stranger's home, tangled in an embrace without any fighting?

"Don't ask those kind of questions," he says, kissing my neck, biting but quickly releasing it before he ruins the carefully curated image we had prepared. "We'd better get you out of this dress, put it somewhere safe." He turns me over, dragging the zipper down slowly. The zipper comes to a stop, and he asks me to sit up before helping me shoulder off the velvet sleeves. He stares at my bare breasts, watching as I get up from the bed and let the rest of the dress drop to the floor.

"You said I could have anything I want," I say, standing there naked in the moonlight. I step out of the dress and throw it haphazardly into the chair with his jacket. "I want you."

"You have me."

"No, not the Wizard of Oz," I say. "I want Oscar. Show me who you are. No mechanical heads, no magic."

"No, you don’t," he says.

"Let me meet him and see for myself," I say quietly.

I go back to the bed and straddle him where he's sat on the edge, my hands sinking into the soft and curly white of his hair. My lips meet his in a gentle kiss that doesn't last. Oscar doesn't have the patience or will to conceal the need to fuck me, to claim me. The cinnamon of his tongue is a taste of how he paints with movements and touches: a violent red that is all-consuming, a warning of an overwhelming and dangerous lust made of clawing and scraping teeth. His mouth finds my neck and the plan to keep me as pristine as possible is gone as he inhales the scent of my neck in between painful kisses. "I don't want you to go," he breathes.

I push him onto the bed, rocking my hips against his pants and his hardened cock beneath them. "I want you to make me forget all of it," I say, kissing him. "I need you."

"Yes," he says. “Whatever you want.” He grabs me and flips us. Ridding us of the rest of our clothes, he then has me pinned to the bed by my wrists, sinking his cock into me.

"Oscar," I gasp.

"Shhh," he says, kissing me. His hips set a steady pace, not hard, but careful enough to catch the places within me that pull my back from the bed in an act of magic. He's true to his word, because as he pins me to the bed and takes me, I don't think about the war or the kidnapping or any of it. I can only focus on how I can’t move my wrists in his grip, the way his stubble pricks my lips in between the bites and lashes of tongue, the way he seems to alter the arc of his hips if I moan a certain way.

I feel the thread of pleasure tighten, and I struggle in his hands, fighting for anything to grab onto as his grip tightens even further around my wrists until I cry out in pain.

"Feel it," he pants. "Let it take over you. You can handle it."

A strangled bleat escapes my throat as I struggle against my restraints, desperate for any kind of tension to avoid feeling the full gluttony of pleasure that snaps within me. I need to rake my nails against his skin, grab fistfuls of quilt, anything to not bear the sickening sweetness that he has brought upon me as I feel my walls clenching around him again and again.

He pulls out before he can spill inside me. Warm spurts of cum land on my stomach, accompanied by his gasps. He stares at the way the moonlight falls on how he has marked me, his shining chest heaving from the effort, before falling down next to me.

"I like it better when you cum in me," I say, laying a hand on his still-heaving chest.

"I had to," he breathes with shut eyes.

"I know we haven’t talked about it,” I say, “but if it’s about me getting pregnant-"

"No," he says, pulling me closer so I can rest my head against the warm and sweaty skin of his chest. A smattering of silver hairs tickle my cheek and mouth with each rise and fall of breath. "Just... had to. That's all."

[sharklovingaquarist]

No @anomalys-bane you do have a point. I have many posts that concern the reproductive process and our wording of it. It always relies on the perception of a female vessel being done to by a male catalyst. You are the machine he operates. If men are feeling gracious, they'll say you're the goddess of life or whatever bullshit, but then word it as if they grant us permission to our "power to create life." I often talk about how I am going into zoological fields and how I am invested in animal hobbies (including breeding animals). The male ego is so vast, so prevalent, that a vocabulary does not exist to properly describe this process. I try my hardest, but academically, my hands are tied. I know later on I'll be corrected for not following the science made to make men feel more important than they are. More in control than they are. More credible and powerful. Fertilization, I try to replace with conception. We now know that eggs choose sperm, but that will never be integrated into our dialog as scientists. It's been a male field, it continues to be so. Women who enter don't question, I feel as if they actually enjoy this view of themselves bestowed to them by male overlords. As for "impregnation," I try to avoid seeing pregnancy as a direct action of a male and more as a process. Conception is male, "impregnation" is not. We become pregnant when an embryo attaches to our uterus, not when a sperm enters our uterus. Pregnancy is not an action done to by the male, it is a result of two people acting together. I refuse to see it as a man putting an embryo inside of me. He ejaculates inside of a woman so his sperm can meet her egg, not sorry he can impregnate her. The wording makes it seem as if she has no effort in the matter, when eggs are a more complex gamete than sperm is.

Basically, our view is heavily male centered. Most things are. It's miserable being in this field.

Edit: I feel as if I should provide an explanation for my take on female creation being the wrong way of viewing gestation. You have to see the process for how it is. People on the one side must stop acting as if female bodies are tools, and people on the other side must stop glorifying the female body in an inhuman, deified way. It is neither of the two radical ideas. Females do not create life through pregnancy. Females and males create life through conception (albeit NOT sentience, this is a process, after all. Sentience is achieved by an individual after birth). A bird chick forms away from a female in an egg. The truth of pregnancy is that it closely resembles parasitism. It's not a perfect definition because it can benefit females in the case of a healthy, stable-minded female spreading her genetics (impossible in our modern society imo). However, my point is that the fetus leeches nutrients from the female body. The female body is a nutrient source, not a machine that stitches together arms, legs, and a torso. The embryo is able to build parts to its body because of the nutrients it steals. The true power of female reproduction comes from our ability to withstand this. Endurance. But males are unable to eat their pride and admit this proves our capability, so then we become either vessels or artistic creators. We can not be strong in the same sense they are.

The female body should strive to be neutral. Not an inferior, not a deity. The fact is women have had their identities repressed for so long that we have no idea how to stay in the lines of humanity. I will say, though, that the women who glorify their female bodies are much MUCH better than those who see it as inferior. It is just a nitpick I have

[zorilleerrant]

I think people come back to life enough in the DC universe that it would be easiest to lean into it. Maybe even explain (while redacting Batfam stuff) the actual way they came back! Let them host parties and things until they get back into it.

Martha, well known for charity work, would want to immediately start doing a lot of it so she could get used to modern life again. She could read to children at the library, feed people soup, plant a garden in the town square, etc. - and that would let her keep her ear to the ground. Always lots of people talking when a crowd gathers, and it could help a lot to monitor the climate of opinions. It can be a warning that the Batfam is about to have social trouble, or that it seems like some villain is gearing up to do something, or that local politics has endangered some overlooked group. (I think Martha would do this regardless of how much a part of the Batfam she considered herself, but eventually she'd need a codename.)

Depending on how athletic they started out - I headcanon Martha as being an Equestrian champion - they might be able to learn the skill required to stalk the night, too!

on the topic of a martha/thomas resurrection…

do you ever think there *is* a point where they can be part of Batfamily?

I think Thomas could be an excellent kind of frontlines surgeon/medic alongside Alfred in the Cave, depending on how he feels about the Mission. I'm less certain about Martha. I think she could do excellent work in the espionage/gala scene alongside Bruce, who's playing Brucie, but she's famous enough that they'd have to have an explanation for her reappearance.

I'm curious what other folks think about her potential roles. For some reason, I feel like she'd be less likely to slide into a new role like Thomas does. But maybe that's Flashpoint coloring my perspective on her.

[sunmoontruth-stiles]

I need a completely rewritten teen wolf series with Derek Hale as the main character. I think it would heal me.