#but certainly wondering how he was going to get out of this
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Well fuck, I gotta do this now, since you asked politely :) sorry if Yori's a little OOC, she's a darling and I love her but I can never seem to get her voice right.
@fourbitsinatrenchcoat here you go :D
Beck cocks his head, because puzzling out his current situation is a great distraction from the knowledge he is well and truly in over his head.
He's never seen that many guards for a single stasis chamber before. Especially when there wasn't supposed to be anything here. The stasis chamber jolts as it gets settled into a pallet, one corner flickering - Beck bets he can use that to hack it.
"Careful!" Someone hisses.
Dyson.
Damnit.
"If she escapes, the Luminary will have all of us derezzed!" The General snaps. "Null units, the lot of you." He complains. "Just get her on the transport, and no more mistakes."
Beck has to get whoever that is. Bad for the Occupation is normally good for the Renegade. He doesn't-
He's not going to bring them straight to Tron's lair. That's just generally a bad idea. The Garage is also a bad idea...
Eh. He'll figure it out later.
...Beck cannot believe it was as easy as "steal an armour set and a forklift". He just can't. How is their security this lax - sure there's lots of guards, but nobody vetted the driver of the damn forklift that showed up to move the pallet.
Dyson really should know better. Maybe he's too frazzled right now though.
Beck's not an idiot, so he ditches the stolen armour and goes hunting for trackers the moment he's out of sight. A diagnostics scan brings up details about whoever's in the chamber unexpectedly, and he feels his eyebrows hit his hairline.
Damn that's an early compilation date. Pre-this-Grid kind of early.
Maybe Tron knows her.
Later, later. Trackers disconnected and removed, he takes his rescuee somewhere he's been thinking of building his own base.
It's not much, certainly not at the level Tron has in his lair, but it has a charging berth and medkits and supplies, and a containment area. Good enough for now.
She doesn't stir when he finally deconstructs the stasis chamber - what medical scans he can understand tell him she'll wake up on her own as the effects of the chamber wear off. There's no sign of rectification - that's either good, or really really bad, but Beck's an optimist at core.
He did, after all, notice Tron had been rectified when even the Monitor couldn't, and managed to tweak the healing chamber to actually be able to deal with that instead of mask it. Tron's been looking leagues better recently for a reason.
Again, Beck's not an idiot - he still makes sure she's in the modified quarantine unit and shouldn't be able to get out of it. Precautionary measures don't hurt.
He switches his circuits from Renegade to the knowingly terrible versions of Tron's he used pre-Renegade. Not his civilian circuits, obviously a disguise... but also an extra layer of misdirection away from him being the Renegade. Because of course the Renegade wouldn't be caught derezzed in something so amateur (never mind the extra armour panels he's been able to add, now he knows how to make them).
And now, to wait.
The lady wakes with a muffled yawn Beck only just catches through his own exhaustion. He's taken naps of course, here and there, but... up all rest cycle, not enough sleep. At least he has the work cycle off.
Tron's a sleepy grumble in his comms, probably fresh from the healing chamber and wondering where on the Grid Beck is. He pings off reassurance that he's safe first and foremost - nobody needs a rampaging fugitive Monitor on their hands - and then alerts Tron that he's somewhat accidentally found, and then on purpose liberated, someone who seems to be of importance.
Tron demands explanations as to who and how, so Beck sends him a picture of the lady currently investigating the walls of his containment unit.
The stunned silence echoes. That's definitely an interesting sign - Tron's very rarely shocked out of lectures.
...Beck very nearly misses the first choked sob. "Yori." Tron murmurs, full of longing and disbelief.
The lady - Yori, if Tron is to be believed - catches sight of him eventually - Beck sees the veiled shock on her face, which quickly gives way to suspicion. That's... fair, he supposes. In this particular get-up, he's pretty clearly not Tron, despite wearing Tron's ident.
"Who are you?" She asks, defensive.
"Depends who's asking." Beck fakes Tron's voice... deliberately badly. Exactly how he used to, when all he had to mimic was footage scraps someone had tried to wipe from existence and not quite succeeded. Knowing Tron, he can do a better impression, but... better to hide that connection for now.
She snorts at him, and he can hear Tron suppress a shaky laugh over the comm. Beck grins under his helmet - he likes amusing Tron, makes him feel like he can help his friend in more ways than just with his job. "Well, you're certainly not my counterpart." She tells him, raising an eyebrow - as if the news is supposed to startle him.
It does, but Beck paid attention during Tron's lessons on How To Not Let The Enemy Distract You. "Truth?" He asks Tron quietly.
"Truth." Tron answers shakily. "I thought she'd been derezzed or-"
"Rectified." Beck completes softly, when it's clear Tron can't bring himself to say it. "She's clear of that, as far as I can tell." Tron makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob - definitely fresh out of the healing chamber, that's the only time he's so expressive - and whispers a thanks to every deity he can think of. Users and otherwise. "I take it she's safe, then?"
"Yes." Tron breathes, and Beck chooses to take that as permission.
Retracting his helmet nets him keen eyes, and Beck lets his circuits shimmer back to civilian. "Sorry about the suspicion, Miss Yori, can't be too careful any more." Beck relaxes his posture, opens up, lets himself be warm and his actual age. It works, given how she relaxes in kind. "Just precautions, but a friend vouched for you."
"Must be some friend." Yori hums, sizing him up - Beck's definitely sure she's not checking him out.
"He is." Beck wanders over, deactivating the containment area with one hand and offering her an energy pouch with the other.
...does not let her see how he deactivates the containment. Even Tron trusts wrong sometimes, and Beck's determined to still have some secrets. Just in case.
"Anyone I'd know?" Yori asks, teasing in her voice.
"Mmm, you could say that." Beck grins, tapping his sternum four times - a gesture Tron uses to soothe himself. "So do us both a favour, yeah?" He abruptly goes serious, hair and plating fluffing out in an intimidatory display. "Don't break his trust."
Because Cyrus is a fresh wound. Because Dyson is a festering wound. Because Yori's betrayal would kill Tron, one way or another, and Beck refuses to let that happen.
The lightrunner ride to Tron's lair is done in silence, Beck using what by now is intimate knowledge of the glitches and shortcuts and general weirdness of the Outlands to obfuscate how to get there. Doing this makes Tron's head hurt, but... he trusts Beck to maintain secrecy this way. Yori stays quiet too, processing everything Beck's allowed her to know.
Tron's making an effort to be welcoming, near the entrance instead of manning his surveillance array. Beck gives his mentor privacy when he and Yori reunite - Tron hates the vulnerability that comes with emotions, the least Beck can do is make sure nobody's going to interrupt them.
Besides, he has reports to write.
Yori cajoles Tron into sitting down and resting, talking and comforting each other. It's... not easy watching them (Bodhi - Beck's core aches with loss), but at least Yori's seeming to hold true to her promise not to hurt Tron.
It takes ages for the discussion to wind down, for Tron to accept help to stagger to his healing chamber and let it close around him.
Yori watches him with sorrow in her eyes. "How can I help?" She asks Beck, when he nears.
Beck grins, and it's the fanged one he doesn't let Tron see. "So, I have this plan to overthrow Clu..."
Because nobody hurts Tron and gets away with it. On that, he and Yori can agree.
a while back I drew a concept for Uprising Yori -- but thanks to the power of me learning 3D modelling, I've made it a reality (:
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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.
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hundred bands
student loans, a sugar daddy website, and johnny suh. three things you never thought would find you in quite this way.
part of my february festival
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words: 8.4k
warnings: bdsm dynamics - dom!johnny x sub!reader, degradation, slight humiliation, discussion of pet play & master/slave play, slight corruption, titles (daddy/sir), paddling, face slapping, subspace, brief moment of insecurity, face fucking etc
—
You wonder if this is how it usually starts; a broke college student, an overeager friend and a last resort.
It’s not like you wanted or planned this; your final year of university and your tuition fees were piling up by the hour; your loan had already run out and all your applications for more money had been shot down about as delicately as a war plane. You’re pretty certain you’re on the loan office’s blocked callers list now.
It was your friend’s suggestion. You already knew she had a sugar daddy—a man named Mark who she never let you meet and seemed way too young to be doing this but, based on the flashy clothes she’d started wearing recently, clearly had enough money for it. And contrary to your expectations of sugaring as she called it, he actually seemed very nice; she was constantly gushing about how well he treated her and he appeared extremely respectful and affectionate towards her on the phone calls you’d been privy to. So fuck it, you thought, and you signed up for the website she’d given you as soon as you were drunk enough to bring yourself to do it.
While this was undoubtedly a sex-focused service, she’d emphasised to you the classy nature of the site; no lewd usernames, no nude pictures of any kind; just a clothed photo that showed your figure, basic information about you, and the type of arrangement you were looking for.
PLEASE SELECT ONE:
Sugar daddy/sugar baby
Straight/gay/bisexual
Top/bottom/vers
Dominant/submissive/switch/vanilla
Your blush ran deeper as you made your way down the list, arranging yourself into categories that felt a little like being sold at auction. Sugar baby. Straight. Bottom.
At the final question, you hesitated—you thought about putting ‘vanilla’, a little afraid of what these rich, anonymous men might expect to be able to pay for, but the words of your best friend rang out in your head. “Be honest with what you want,” she’d told you. “Just because you’re doing this for money doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get any fun from it.”
She was right, as usual. If you were going to get fucked for money, then you at least deserved to fucked well; even so, you had to close your eyes in shame as you clicked the little box titled ‘submissive’. That was a side of you that had only ever existed in your fantasies.
The rest of your profile was simple; you almost backed out when they asked for your ID, not wanting to give yourself away, but visions of loan sharks and withheld diplomas squashed those doubts pretty quickly—you were going to do this. You were going to get some rich man to pay your tuition, and that was the end of it. You had no other choice.
To be fair to the site, it was pretty well and, considering what it was for, non-pervertedly designed. You were matched with partners based on your preferences, but no one could message you until you’d liked their profile. You spent a few minutes clicking through the profiles, haphazardly liking or disliking as you felt like it, until one made you pause.
The picture was of a man in a suit, cropped at the neck to conceal his identity; but you didn’t really need to see his face to know that this man… well. He was certainly an option. Just from that one picture, taken from below, sleeves rolled up and linen straining against his chest, you felt authority emanating through the screen. Yeah, this could work very well.
You clicked nervously on his profile, hoping not to find anything crazy or gross in his bio to turn you off of him, but it was, well. Normal. For this place at least.
Sugar daddy. Straight. Top. Dominant. A good start—perfectly aligned with you.
From his bio you found out he was almost 30–a decent bit older than you but not over the line; he worked in the entertainment industry, and he valued discretion. Likewise, you thought.
You clicked like without a much more consideration.
The message came through an hour later, just as you were sitting down for dinner; you couldn’t help but grin when you got the notification, opening it nervously.
Hey. Hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but you’re nearby and I’d be interested in getting to know you. Would that be ok?
At first you were a little taken aback by how… polite the message was. How normal. Given the nature of the site you were half-expecting something perverted and disturbing, but this man was taking you by surprise already.
You typed your reply with your bottom lip held painfully between your teeth.
Hi :) that sounds great! I’m free next weekend if you are?
Great. Saturday evening? I’ll take you for dinner, if you like?
Perfect.
The nine days between then and your first meeting pass surprisingly quickly; you keep in regular contact with your faceless friend, you both having agreed to keep things anonymous for now, and though neither of you dance around the reason you’re both here, you find it easy to have normal, friendly conversations with him too. You tell him about your degree, and he gives you small details about his life and work—a singer, he says. He offers nothing more and you don’t press; from the way he talks about it you get the sense he may be some level of well-known, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’ll find out who he is on Saturday anyway.
On Monday night, just as you’re finishing up an assignment, your phone lights up with a new notification. You have his KakaoTalk now; it’s easier and more inconspicuous than the site and feels a lot less intimidating. The cartoon kitten on his profile picture makes you giggle as you open the message.
Now that we know each other a little better, would you be down to talk more about what our arrangement would look like, if it went ahead?
Yeah, of course. What are you thinking?
Can I call you?
Your stomach tightens and your palms tense nervously; you’ve called him before, but as you quickly found out, his voice makes it very difficult to concentrate on what he’s actually saying. You’re not exactly sure why; maybe it’s the deep, masculine lilt to it, but it sets your nerves on edge—still, you imagine this would be a better conversation to have on the phone, so you type your agreement with shaking hands.
Almost instantly the call comes through; “Hello?” You say softly.
“Hey, honey.” His voice is warm and familiar but still intimidating and the pet name he’s been using the past few days doesn’t make it any easier to keep a clear head. “How you feeling?”
“M’ good,” you mumble and he chuckles softly.
”Great. Well, I suppose we’ll just jump into it, yeah?” You make a noise of agreement and he continues. “Your profile said you’re a submissive. Can you tell me a little about that?”
You blank a little, already feeling out of your depth. You never thought this was a conversation you’d be having with someone, let alone a near stranger. “About that?” you echo. “Like, in what regard?”
“Well, do you have experience in that area?” His voice has a slightly deeper edge now; it’s focused and a little stern—clearly this is something he takes extremely seriously. “Have you submitted to someone before?”
“Um.” Your mind flashes with images of your previous partners; the varying experiences you’d had them but none of it seems to fit what you feel like he’s asking. “Not really.”
He hums. “So, if I had to guess,” he says, “you’ve been choked a few times, maybe spanked a little bit, and I’m assuming at least one of your partners wanted you to call him daddy?”
You can’t help but flush; that’s… exactly accurate. “Yeah,” you mumble. “How’d you know?”
“When people say ‘not really’, that’s usually what they mean.” You hear the smile in his voice and you wonder how many people he’s had this conversation with. You also wonder why the thought makes you a little bit jealous.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I assume you’ve gathered by now that I’m looking for more than that?”
Your stomach turns and you nod; it’s silent for a moment until you realise he can’t actually see you and you mumble a reply, embarrassed.
He laughs a little, seeming to realise what you’ve done before continuing. “There’s a lot I want to do with you, but I’m not going to dump it on you all at once, so we’ll start with what you’ve done already, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You said you’ve been choked,” he said. “So you’re comfortable having things on your neck.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’d certainly choke you during sex, if you’re comfortable. But I might use my arms rather than my hands. And at some point, I’d like to put a collar on you. How does that sound?”
“Um.” Fucking fantastic, you want to say, but you’re too embarrassed and still determined to play it at least a little bit cool. “It sounds nice.”
“Good. The next thing we mentioned is spanking, correct?”
You know you’re blushing now, shifting uncomfortably in your seat and trying to relieve some of the pressure between your legs. Something about the way he speaks so calmly and professionally about these things is really doing it for you, apparently. “Yeah,” you breathe.
“If I had to make a guess on that, I’d say they slapped your ass a few times during sex. Maybe a little foreplay, too. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, again, I’d do that too, but it’d be more than that. If you become my sugar baby, you become my submissive as well, which means you’d submit to my rules and discipline. Ya follow?”
It’s not a massive shock; he’d mentioned BDSM before, and you weren’t surprised given his profile—but hearing it out loud, in that voice, is a different feeling. “Yeah, I follow,” you say. “So you’d punish me? How?”
“Well if we’re talking about spanking…” He pauses for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I’ll give you an example. Say you broke a rule, like if you talked back to me or I caught you touching yourself when I’d told you not to, then I’d put you over my knee, pull your panties down and spank you til I feel like you’re sorry. How does that sound?”
“Oh.” There’s an undeniable pressure in your stomach and you try not to let the arousal seep into your voice. “That’s… wow.”
“Is that good or bad?” He asks. He’s laughing, but he sounds cautious too. It makes you feel safe, the way he’s genuinely concerned about your feelings on this; it’s the bare minimum, sure, but you expected worse from that website.
“Good,” you breathe. “Really good.”
“Oh?” He’s teasing now; you practically see the grin on his face despite the fact you don’t actually know what that face looks like. “Does someone want to be spanked?”
“I think… yeah.”
“That’s good,” he laughs. “I bet you’ll look really cute kicking and squirming over my lap. Don’t you think?”
“Hopefully,” you mumble.
“I’m sure. And the last thing we mentioned. You’ve called someone daddy before, you said. Did you like it?”
“Yeah.” You answer quickly; you figure there’s no point in shame now.
“I see.” He pauses again. “I usually prefer sir, but I’m not opposed to daddy, either.”
“Oh.”
“Speaking of.” There’s a playfulness to his voice now; a teasing lilt that makes you bite back a laugh. “You should get to bed, young lady. Why are you even up?”
“Assignments,” you say. “And what’s your excuse, sir?”
You hear the sharp intake of breath through the phone; the soft, strangled sound that dies in his throat and you feel a twinge of satisfaction. Yeah. I can play this game too.
He clears his throat, releasing an exasperated sigh and there’s a rustling sound before he speaks, voice dipping slightly. “My excuse,” he says, “is that I’ve nowhere to be tomorrow. Unlike a certain little brat.”
The final word is drawn out, teasing and warning at the same time and your chest tightens in excitement and a million other things. You don’t even know what this guy looks like, but fuck, he’s so good. You want to push his buttons and obey his every word simultaneously.
“True,” you mumble. “Okay, I’ll sleep.”
“Good girl.” The satisfied smile is audible in his voice. “See you Saturday, pretty.”
—
This man is gorgeous.
That’s your first thought when you see him Saturday evening; he’s waiting for you when your car pulls up, calling your name with a smile and wrapping an arm around your waist as he helps you out. He introduces himself as Johnny, and his voice sounds even better in person.
Your second thought follows not long after; you recognise him. You’d figured by now that he was probably some level of famous, but you weren’t interested enough in the whole idol culture to have recognised him from his voice alone; in fact it’s only when he tells you his name that you finally place him. You wait until you’re seated, in a private room you’d rather not know the cost of, before asking.
“I don’t wanna be too weird,” you say, “but you’re an idol, right?”
He laughs, nodding with a soft smile. “I am. Do you know me?”
“I’ve heard of you,” you mumble; you’re not sure why you’re so embarrassed to know who he is—that’s the whole point of celebrities, after all. You chuckle dryly, trying to ease the weight of the awkwardness you feel in your chest. “I recognised your face but I couldn’t figure out where I knew you from til you told me your name.”
“Ah.” His posture is relaxed, tone jovial but you see a surety and intensity in his eyes that makes you cower instinctively. “Heard any of my music?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice that he’s teasing you again.
“Maybe. I wouldn’t know.” You shrug. “I mean, I’m not really into that stuff but like, I’m obviously gonna look you up when I’m home now.”
“I figured,” he laughs. “Shoot me a text once you’ve decided I’m your favourite.”
“If I decide that,” you say, and he laughs louder. You feel yourself relaxing a little; his open, friendly demeanour could make anyone ease up and you can’t help but feel comfortable in his presence. Only his dark eyes, which scarcely leave you but to call over the waiter and order, keep you on edge.
You don’t know what any of the words on the menu mean, so you let him order for you—he seems to like that; choosing for you, making small, simple decisions on your behalf. You see it on his face.
As it turns out he’s very good at choosing, too; the beef dish they bring out is something your friend had told you about, when you’d mentioned coming to this restaurant and she realised she’d been there with her own sugar daddy. It tastes amazing and the champagne that flows with it is even better.
“Food good?” He asks with a smile.
“Yeah,” you say. “Is yours?”
“Perfect,” he says. The weight of his gaze on you is unavoidable and you twirl the spaghetti around your fork nervously, just wanting something to do to avoid his eyes.
“So, um.” You clear your throat, trying to think of something to fill the silence but nothing comes. Johnny watches you with a small smirk; all-knowing.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says finally. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
You hold back a laugh, biting your lip and he notices. “Well, I mean…”
“Yeah, okay, I am going to hurt you a bit.” He’s grinning, and you realise he chose his words intentionally; though whether to ease the tension or tighten it further you don’t know. “But I do want you to be comfortable with me.”
“Yeah. I am, I think.”
“Great. May I ask you something?”
You motion for him to speak and he smiles; you think you see the first hint of trepidation in his eyes before it quickly dims into the usual cool intensity.
“Obviously it hasn’t been long enough to make a firm decision,” he says, “but just so I have an idea, are you open to the idea of coming home with me tonight?”
You swallow; your stomach tightens at the proposition and the visions it provokes and your response is whispered like a scandalous secret. “Like… to play with you?”
“Yes,” he says. “It doesn’t have to mean the start of a dynamic, and we won’t have sex; just think of it as a taster session.”
That doesn’t seem so bad, you think. And he’s careful, not rushing you into a dynamic or even pressuring you at all; that’s a good sign, right? “So what— um. What would we do?”
“Depends on your behaviour.” He winks teasingly at you from behind the glass in his hand and your head is in overdrive with the images he’d given you on the phone a few days ago; of being choked and collared and spanked by those impossibly large hands resting so tantalisingly close to yours.
You clench your thighs, swallowing dryly. “Yeah. I’m… open to the idea.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
The evening passes surprisingly quickly; the tension in the air has all but dissipated, but for the subtle movements he makes every now and then just to see your reaction; a quirk of an eyebrow, a knowing smile, a perfectly timed touch that sends electricity rushing through your veins.
You know he’s toying with you, studying your natural responses to small hints of dominance so you react with similarly small, playful acts of submission in return; cowering under his gaze, bowing your head—allowing him the first taste of the control you may soon surrender completely to him.
“So,” he says, once the waiters have removed the last of your dessert plates. “Would you like to come home with me?”
—
Five million won lands in your bank account as you’re taking the elevator up to his apartment. You make a noise of shock, staring dumbfoundedly between him and the notification, but he says nothing; just smirks ever so slightly as he guides you out of the elevator with a hand on your lower back.
Johnny’s apartment is pretty much as you pictured it; everything a successful man on the cusp of his thirties would go for—black, white and grey themes, a large TV, low, atmospheric lighting and a stunning view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows that loom over you when you step inside. He removes your jacket for you, pausing to take in the outfit you’ve chosen once again before helping you remove your heels. He’s careful and gentlemanly, touches feather-light on your legs as he slides your shoes off. You’re not sure if the image of him on his knees in front of you like this contrasts or enhances the feeling of his dominance over you. You think it’s the latter, somehow.
When he stands up you see that without the few inches your heels provided you, he’s even more imposing—and in his own house, on his territory, you feel smaller than you ever have before.
“Come,” he smiles. He’s removed his suit jacket now, but the dress shirt, slacks and shoes are still on; the soles click against the floor as he guides you down the hallway by the hand.
You stop at the end of the hall, hovering outside a varnished wooden door. For a moment you stand there silently and his demeanour seems to shift a little; he stands a little taller and his face takes on a new solemnity as he looks you up and down. You feel like you’re being inspected, scrutinised; studied.
Your gaze flickers towards the door—is this where he does it? Where he… dominates people? Dominates you? Are you about to walk into a room full of whips and gags and contraptions you’ve never heard of?
“Hey.” Johnny’s voice is calm and soft and stops your spiraling in its tracks. His lips quirk in an amused smile. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not a red room.”
“Oh.” You don’t know why you’re so embarrassed—anyone would have assumed that, given the circumstances; still, you avert your eyes awkwardly, face heating up. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says. “I’m not offended. It's reasonable to assume I’d have one. But it’s just my bedroom, nothing too scary.”
“Oh. So you don’t… um.”
“I don’t have a red room?” You nod a little ashamedly and he chuckles. “No. I don’t need one. D’you know why?”
“Why?”
A large hand clasps around your wrist, making you shiver. “Because if we do this, you don’t submit to a room. You submit to me. Wherever we are, whenever I tell you to.”
You flush. “Oh.”
“Mhm.” His voice drops, veins bulging against his neck and he cuts a more and more intimidating figure by the second. You’re so ready.
”Do you remember the conversation we had about safewords?”
Of course you do; it was the first one you had once the pleasantries were over. “Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.”
He makes a noise of satisfaction and there’s a ghost of a proud smile on his lips. “Excellent.”
You watch as his hand grasps the door handle, pushing it down but not opening it. He pauses for a moment, gaze flickering back to you and you tense, nerves multiplying by the minute.
“Couple things you should know,” he says. His voice is calm and collected and it makes your head rush. “First thing. When you play with me, you’re on your knees, on the floor. You don’t stand or walk or do anything I do because we’re not on the same level here. Understand?”
Your stomach flips, arousal gathering in your chest and your voice is strained when you squeak out a pathetic “Yes.”
“Good,” he says. He’s smiling knowingly, all too aware of the effect he’s having on you. “Second thing. It’s ‘yes, Sir.’”
Then the door is pushed open, and within a few seconds two things become abundantly clear; first, Johnny is true to his words—you don’t manage a single step inside his bedroom before you find yourself forced to your knees, kneeling with your head bowed beneath the pressure of his hand on the back of your neck. He holds you firmly in position but there’s little force behind his grip; there doesn’t need to be. He told you early on that he has no interest in subduing you or compelling you to submit—you’ll submit to him because you want to, and he’ll give you everything you need in return.
The second thing that becomes clear is that when Johnny said he didn’t have a red room, that was only technically the truth—because sure, it’s not a strictly-sex-only room, and it’s not red, but there’s absolutely no mistaking what happens here.
A glass cabinet displays an intimidating selection of toys; whips and paddles and dildos and things you couldn’t even begin to guess the use for; a bar is fixed to a lower portion of the ceiling, and the ropes hanging from it tell you he doesn’t use it for pull-ups; but most noticeably and unavoidably, there’s a large dog’s cage filled with blankets and soft pillows sitting directly at the end of his bed.
He catches your gaze lingering on the cage and laughs softly; the hand on your neck travels up to rest in your hair, caressing you gently and you hold your head exactly where he left it despite your desire to nuzzle into his touch. You have something to prove today, after all.
“You like my cage?” You hear the grin in his voice, feather-light touches tickling against your skin.
“Is it… for humans, sir?” The size of it makes the answer obvious but you need to hear it from him; the confirmation that this is really as batshit and delightfully insane as it seems.
He hums, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. You feel his presence above you as he crouches down a little, voice dropping to just above a whisper. “It’s for very, very bad girls indeed,” he says. “But you’re not bad, are you, precious?”
“No, sir,” you mumble. “I’ll be good.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He stands back up, towering above you again before walking over to the bed. He takes a seat, staring at you for a moment before his he lifts his hand and beckons you towards him. “Come.”
You hesitate for a moment—are you really about to do this? Are you really going to crawl on your hands and knees towards this man whose face you’d never even seen before today?
Yeah. Apparently you are.
Your breathing stutters as you make the first movements; one hand in front of the other, then your leg, over and over until you’ve somehow made it, you’ve crawled across the room and settled on your knees at his feet. He looks elated.
For a moment, he says nothing; he stares you down with a calm, collected expression that screams control and you try desperately not to shrink under it. The first touch of his hand on your face is electric when he gently grips your jaw, stroking your skin with soft fingers. You feel—and are, to him at least—tiny.
“Sweet thing,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”
You can’t help but mewl in response, every cell of your body reacting to him, nerves standing on their ends. It’s a completely new feeling and utterly overwhelming. You want it to last forever.
“Can I hit you, angel?” His voice is low, gentle, the opposite of the way his grip on you tightens with want.
You feel yourself throb, nodding dumbly. “Yes sir.”
He smiles for a moment before his face darkens; the impact of his palm against your cheek would be enough to knock you down were it not for his still firm grip on your jaw. You cry out at the sting, unable to stop yourself and he can’t help but smile. “So responsive,” he tuts. “I’m gonna love training you up.”
You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “I hope so, sir.”
“You know,” he says. “This is my favourite part of having a new sub. Figuring out what type they are.”
You pause. “Type, sir?”
He hums; a low, pleasing sound. “No two submissives are the same, but there are general categories you could fit most of them into. Some fit in all of them, in fact.”
“What are they?”
He tilts his head, eyes glinting and you see the way he settles further into his headspace, back straightening as he stares you down. Your lack of experience seems to do something to him—and that definitely does something to you.
“Well,” he says. He speaks slowly and carefully, every word chosen with thought. “You have your puppies. They like to be on their knees. They like to whine and bark. They like to hump.” His grip tightens on your chin, tilting your head upwards. His thumb pushes past your lips and into your mouth and you accept it greedily. “And if I told them to open their mouth for their master’s spit…” He parts your lips, pushing your mouth open; he hesitates for a moment, as though he’s waiting for you to object but you don’t; you just open wider. His lips twist into a smirk before you feel a wad of saliva land on your tongue. “They’d slack their jaw and swallow it like a good dog.”
He watches with a smile as you obey, letting the spit slide down your throat. Your head feels fuzzy and floaty and all the sensations in your body, from the feeling of the carpet against your shins to the arousal that twists painfully in your gut, feel distant and separate. The only thing that feels real and complete right now is Johnny.
“Seems you like pet play,” he chuckles. “I’ll have to get you some ears. A tail, too.” He strokes your cheek and you keen into his touch unconsciously. “Would you let me plug your ass with a little puppy tail, baby?”
“Yes sir.” The words are coming out on their own now, your body responding for you before your conscious can catch up. He smiles.
“You’d be a lovely kitten, too,” he says. “They’re not as much fun to play with as puppies, but they look oh so pretty in your lap. And sometimes it’s nice to have a pliant little thing that will let you use their holes without complaining.”
Oh, that does sound nice. You think you’d enjoy that sometimes, when you’re feeling softer and more fragile and just want to be cared for. And he’s so large and broad and warm that he’s practically custom made to have you in his lap. You’d fit perfectly and prettily and you sigh dreamily without realising. He laughs and you quickly regain yourself, blushing deeply.
“Sorry, sir,” you mumble. “Um. Were all your subs, like, pets?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve had a few slaves before as well,” he says. “They were lovely; obeyed me like it was second nature. Took all the pain and humiliation I inflicted on them and still wanted more. Almost made me rethink my policy on not drawing blood, but that’s not my sort of thing really; they took a whipping like nobody’s business though.”
You cower a little, gaze dropping downwards; this doesn’t seem like you. You’re more than happy to be hurt and humiliated by Johnny, but this just seems… too much. You’re not ready for that level of submission and you’re not even sure you want to be. You feel a faint pressure on your chest, a familiar feeling of having fallen short but you’re not sure why; you’re allowed to say no—when you signed up for the website you signed a contract which stated it explicitly, and Johnny himself has reiterated it to you multiple times. You don’t have to take everything he offers you and you don���t have to do or be or enjoy anything simply because he does.
So why does it feel like a shortcoming; like you’ve foundered and failed before you’ve ever started?
You’ve zoned out without realising, deep in thought; Johnny sees the gears turning in your head and clicks his tongue, nudging your jaw upwards again. His smile is warm and gentle when you finally meet his gaze and though his voice is still soft and patient, there’s a finality to it that wasn’t there before; a seriousness. “You don’t like the sound of that, that’s okay,” he assures you. “You should never, ever force yourself to do something just to please me, or to please anyone. Understand?”
“I understand, sir,” you whisper. The sternness in his voice tells you he’s not playing now; he needs you to know this and keep it with you.
“Good girl,” he praises. His voice lifts a little and you see the moment he changes tack, back to toying with you like he was before. “God, you’re pretty. I don’t think I could hurt a little thing like you that way even if you did want it.”
You whine without realising it; your mind is a complete fog now, control and awareness slipping away by the second but you manage to string the few words that come to you into a slow, stuttered sentence. “Are those, um… that’s all of it, sir?”
His laugh is fond and a little condescending, like you’ve said something adorably stupid. You feel warm. “Those are just some typical ones,” he says. “Ones I’ve played with before. You don’t have to assign yourself to any of them, it just helps me to see what you do and don’t like the sound of.“
“Right.”
“You seem to like being a puppy,” he continues. There’s a teasing edge to his voice and you hold back another whine. “I think you’d like being a kitten sometimes, too. Turning your brain off and just letting daddy use you, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Your body reacts of its own accord to the title; you shudder in his hold, slumping slightly as a soft moan escapes your lips and it makes him laugh softly, fondly. “You really like the whole daddy thing, huh?”
You nod, a little embarrassed—it’s not even that you’re particularly into it on your own, in fact you only called your ex that because he wanted you to. Sure, you enjoyed it and it certainly made him fuck you harder and deeper and better, but you’ve never explored it of your own volition. You’ve never felt the need to.
But something about the way it sounds so sweet and natural on Johnny’s lips, like he’s acknowledging a reality rather than acting out a fantasy, makes it all seem so right—and so exciting. He certainly suits the name; so big and so strong and in complete control of you. Yeah, you’re definitely going to need to try this out.
You see in his face that his own thoughts are similar; his eyes are fogged with arousal and there’s a thick tension in his neck as he swallows. “You definitely make it work.” His hand moves from your jaw to cup your cheek and he lets you nuzzle against it greedily, a smile twitching on his lips. “Cute. God, there’s so much I could do to you.”
“Do it,” you breathe. “Please, sir.”
“Such good manners,” he croons. “You need it so bad, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you whine. You don’t even know what ‘it’ is, but you know he’s right; you’re desperate, feverish for it. For anything, as long as it comes from him.
“Ask me nicely,” he whispers. “Ask me for what you want, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”
“You,” you say. “You, sir.”
In a moment of desperation—or stupidity, perhaps—you reach for him, hands curling into the material of his shirt and grazing against what feels like a full set of abs beneath it. Wrong move.
He lifts you by the hair, dragging you to your feet and throwing you over his knee. Your heart pounds with expectation but he doesn’t hit you as you expect him to; instead he flips you over so you’re lying on your back, head resting on the sheets; your hair falls prettily around your face and you make the perfect picture of innocence. You want him to ruin it.
The feeling of his hand on your throat is electric; the other roams across your torso, groping your tits with a detached interest. He’s in no hurry, after all.
“Who told you to touch me, huh?” His words are growled, arousal filled as he grabs one of your tits and squeezes hard enough to make you whimper. “Here I thought you were gonna be good for me.”
“I am,” you whine. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I will.”
He’s silent for a moment, staring you down like he’s figuring out whether he believes you before sitting you up so you’re perched on his knee. He grabs your wrists and moves them behind you, folded over each other and resting against your lower back. “Keep those there,” he says. “This is your first lesson. You don’t touch what’s not yours and you don’t move a muscle without my permission. Understand?”
You nod dumbly and he slaps your face just this side of painfully. “Words, my girl.”
My girl. Why does that feel so delicious and warm in your chest? “Yes, sir,” you mewl. “I understand.”
“Good.”
And then his lips are on yours, colliding desperately and almost painfully as if he’s been waiting for this his entire life. His hands are in your hair, tugging your head backwards to allow him to place a trail of wet kisses down your face and neck. His mouth latches onto your collarbone, sucking harshly at the skin and you know it’ll be purple when he pulls away. It stings in the best way and a string of curses tumble out in a rush as you ride the high of pleasure. He bites down a little, making you yelp. “Manners,” he grumbles against your skin but he doesn’t let go, so you figure he’s letting you off with that one.
When he finally pulls away his eyes are dark and feral; all pupil and all control. His hands roam up and down the sides of your torso and he looks ready to tear you apart. “Where’d you get this dress, pretty girl?”
You pause, caught off guard. He was sucking a bruise into your skin a moment ago and now he wants fashion tips? “Um… a mall, I think.”
“Is it special to you at all?”
“Not really.”
“Good.”
With both hands he grabs at the fabric on your chest and yanks it apart; the material rips easily, crumbling in his hands and there’s a million sensations in your body as he yanks the remaining fabric off of you. The sight of your lacy black lingerie makes him smile and he fingers gently at the soft fabric of your bra. “How about these?” He asks.
“They’re not special,” you mumble. “But it’s my nicest set.”
“I’ll get you nicer.” The bra and panties put up little fight against him, and soon you’re completely naked and dripping on his lap. He pinches your stomach, just above your pussy and you whine. “Don’t ever wanna see you in cheap shit like that,” he mutters. “My girl wears the best, you understand me?”
“Yes sir,” you whisper. “Wanna be pretty for you.”
“Always are,” he grunts. He stills for a moment, stroking your thigh before he clicks his fingers, pointing at the floor in front of him. “Down.”
You obey wordlessly; you’ve adjusted surprisingly quickly to the automatic obedience he seems to expect—your body is already following his orders of its own accord even while your mind fades away into subspace and he seems profoundly pleased by it. You settle on your knees, staring up at him with wide eyes.
His lips quirk. Seconds feel like minutes until he finally speaks.
“Give me your hands.”
—
Your friend has been silent for two entire minutes. That’s how long it’s been since you finished recounting the events of the night before and looked up to see her staring at you with an open mouth. She looks… well, you don’t know exactly, but she definitely wasn’t expecting this. That much is very clear.
“Dude.” You force an awkward laugh, trying to break the silence that seems to judge you as much as you fear she is too. “You good?”
Finally she recovers herself and nods, raising the coffee mug to her lips and taking a long sip. She puts it down and you see a small smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah,” she says. “I just. Wow, girl.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t expect… that from you. I thought you were vanilla?”
You frown; you’re not sure you’d categorise your exploits with your exes as strictly vanilla, but to someone like her, who’s more than versed in the world of dominance and submission and had only ended up as a sugar baby later on, you suppose it would be. “I thought so too. Mostly.” You shrug. “But he’s really good.”
“You don’t say,” she snorts. Her eyes are wide and you recognise the faintest hint of arousal in her expression—recognize it at as the same one you’d worn last night when Johnny tied you to a chair in front of his floor length mirror and forced you to watch as he fucked you with a vibrator until you came all over his hands.
You can’t help but rub your thighs together slightly at the memory. You clear your throat. “Yeah.”
“Fuck, I can’t believe he paddled you, girl.” She sounds impressed. “I still can’t convince mine to do that.”
You definitely didn’t have to convince Johnny; when he bent you over the bed and ran the black leather paddle across your ass, all he needed was the word ‘green’ tumbling from your lips and he was convinced and ready to go. You bite back a laugh at the thought. “Yeah,” you say.
“Did it hurt?”
“Kind of.”
You’d expected it to be worse, honestly; the paddle was fairly large and he wielded it in his hands like an executioner’s sword but as he explained to you, pain wasn’t the point of this one. It hurt, sure, but it was a slight sting and then a dull ache that was pretty bearable once the first rush subsided. But that was exactly what he wanted; the leather paddle was for play, designed for sensation rather than punishment—punishment, he told you, would come in the form of a larger wooden paddle you hope never to meet.
“Jealous,” she huffs. “And he sent you even more after?”
You nod. The transfer of ten million won as you stepped out of the taxi nearly made you collapse.
Good girl, the note said. You could almost see the smug smile as he typed it out.
“You got a good one, babe,” your friend says. “Hope he keeps it up.”
So do you.
—
The position you’re in is becoming familiar now; on your knees in front of him, naked and bound by ropes that snake down your back and loop under your thighs. What’s not familiar is the silicone plug sitting snugly in your ass and vibrating on a low, constant frequency; not enough to stimulate or satisfy you in any way, but enough to keep you needy and on edge.
Johnny is slouched slightly, lounging in his large, leather armchair and tapping his foot against the floor. His gaze is firm and authoritative but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. He taps your cheek with his finger.
“What to do with you?” It comes out as a purr and you see his bulge beginning to strain against his slacks. Your breath hitches slightly, lips pursing and he notices, because of course he does; the grin that stretches over his lips is sly and scheming.
“You like my cock, huh?” He asks. “Haven’t even seen it yet, desperate girl.”
Your eyes flicker between his crotch and those dark, piercing eyes, unsure which is affecting you more. “Sir…”
“I’m right here,” he says. “You want it?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Please, sir. Want it.”
He leans back, adjusting himself slightly. “Take it out, then. Do your job.”
You nod; you can do that. You really fucking want to do that, actually. It’s been over a week of this and you still haven’t seen his cock—he, meanwhile, has seen and touched and marked every naked inch of you.
“Yes sir.” Your hands are shaking when you undo his slacks; you falter slightly when the zip comes down and you realise he’s not wearing underwear and he cocks a questioning eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”
You shake your head, blushing slightly. “No sir.”
“Good. Pull it out.”
His cock springs up when you release it from the slacks and it’s just as big as you expected-slash-feared-slash-hoped it would be. It’s thick and veiny too, already leaking from the tip and you know your eyes are wide and desperate but you don’t care. You’ve never seen something more appetising.
“You like it, huh?” There’s amusement in his voice, layered beneath the husk of arousal. “Good. I’m gonna train you to take it every day, make you a total cockwhore for me. Hold still now.”
He pulls you towards him, holding your head steady as he pushes into your mouth. He’s not exactly rough with it, but he’s clearly not too concerned with your comfort right now; any attempt to stop you from gagging or coughing up on it is for his own sake, not yours. He guides it down into your throat and you feel yourself tearing up at the intrusion. You splutter slightly, unable to avoid choking and he tuts, yanking you back by the hair to give you a moment to breathe before pushing you back down.
“Have to train that out of you,” he mutters. “Gonna teach you to keep your throat open for me.”
He holds you still, cock resting in your throat until you settle around it, adjusting to the stretch and the feeling. “Good girl,” he grunts. “Take it like that, all the way.”
He pulls you back again and you gasp for breath, spluttering slightly but even as you regain your composure you’re still suckling eagerly at his tip like it’s the only thing you know how to do. You feel the shudder that runs through him as it reaches his cock, throbbing on your tongue. “You’re too good at this,” he mutters. “Learning so quickly. Who taught you to take a cock like that?”
“No one, sir.” Your voice is muffled around his cock, drool dripping down onto your lap.
“Shit, baby, you were really made for this. You need a reward.”
The feeling of his shoe nudging against your knees makes you jolt. “Open,” he says.
When you spread your legs you feel the stickiness of your thighs as they separate and your face burns—you’re leaking like a fucking bitch. Johnny’s smile is the widest you’ve ever seen it. “Oh, baby,” he tuts. “Dripping all over my floor like that. You in heat, honey?” His voice is teasing, gaze sharp and he doesn’t miss the shudder that rushes through you.
Still being in the early stages of your arrangement, you haven’t yet had a chance to explore the different dynamics Johnny had explained to you the first time you kneeled for him; to feel what it’s like to be his puppy or kitten whatever he wants you to be that day. For now, you’re his straightforward submissive and though you’ve certainly fucked yourself a few times to the thought of him pulling you around on a leash, you haven’t felt in a particular rush to pursue it just yet.
But those words. That tone.
You in heat?
You remember your neighbour in high school who bred dogs; how she’d sit at the table with your mother discussing puppies and litters and heats. It’s a distinctively… canine word to you; to hear yourself, your behaviour described in that way is thrilling. He knows it.
His foot moves forwards until it’s in front of your pussy and you don’t even hesitate for a second when he tells you to mount it. He watches you with a calm, pleased expression. “Look at me.”
He’s biting his lip when you meet his eyes, clearly as afflicted as you. “You remember your first lesson?”
“Yes sir.”
“What was it?”
“Don’t touch, sir,” you whisper. “Don’t touch, or— or move without permission.”
“Good,” he nods. “Remember that. You don’t move unless I tell you to. And you certainly don’t hump. Yeah?”
“Yes sir.”
He curls a stray hair behind your ear and a smile flickers over his lips. “You’re gonna tie that up next time,” he says. He tugs lightly at your hair to illustrate his point and you moan softly. “I don’t want you looking like a stray in here. I keep my toys clean.”
Fuck, you love the way he talks to you; insulting and demeaning yet tickling all the right parts of your brain to make you melt even deeper into submission.
He pulls you towards him. “Keep that mouth open.”
That’s the only thing you get that even resembles a warning before he’s shoving himself into you again and there’s no pretence of gentleness or caution this time as he forces his way into your throat. He holds your head down on it and pushes two thumbs into the top of your jaw so you can’t close your mouth even if you want to—all you can do is gag and choke and take it until he’s finished with you.
You’re faintly aware of tears streaming down your face, but by the time they land on your chest they’re mixed with the door that pours from your mouth as he fucks in and out. You’re so overwhelmed that you scarcely notice the feeling of your dripping pussy rubbing agonisingly against his shoe and trying desperately not to move; all the sensations have blurred into one now and everything is the same, everything is too much. You want more.
When he pulls out you can’t help but whine, feeling the loss and he chuckles. “Never met someone so desperate for cock,” he says. “Born for it, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Your gaze shifts to the cock in his hands, still hard and leaking and your tongue swipes over your bottom lip, practically salivating. You shoot him a pleading look and he clicks his tongue. “No, sweet thing. You’ve had enough of that. Besides, I don’t think you’ve earned my cum in your throat yet. Push your tits out for me.”
You obey begrudgingly, disappointed at the denial but still eager to please; he rewards you with a slight nudge of his foot against your pussy and you buck against it, falling against his shin and he laughs and pulls you back by the hair so he can see you properly.
“So easy,” he groans. His hand slides up and down his dick with increasing vigour and he throws his head back in pleasure. “Fuck.”
The tightening of his grip in your hair tells you when he’s about to cum and you push your tits out further to catch it. He grunts and moans through his orgasm and your chest and thighs are a mess of drool and spit and cum by the time he picks you up and takes you into his lap.
His rough hands are tender and careful now as he runs a warm wet cloth across your skin, gathering the mess you made together. His fingers are rubbing soothing patterns on your neck as he‘a mumbling something you can’t quite make out. Doesn’t really matter, though; his hold is warm and familiar and the low vibrations in his chest as he speaks are strangely comforting against the flushed skin of your face.
Maybe it’s the endorphins or the headrush that always follows your scenes with him, but you swear you’ve never felt safer.
The money’s not bad either.
—
nct taglist: @bbdeongi @yabbadabbatuh @fancypeacepersona
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The Wigmaker Job
Notes and Thoughts - Part 2
pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4
Picking back up in the next scene, Lucanis and Illario are exiting the tavern on their way to the contract. Here, they are described as "lean with dark hair and umber eyes". ← THIS MEANS THEY PURPOSELY GAVE MY POOKIE BLUE EYES TO MAKE HIM LOOK MORE EVIL.
(I also forgot to mention in the previous scene they discuss that Illario fastidiously grooms his 5 o'clock shadow so they also took THAT from us. But! Veilguard did give him a huge ass… no, I need his brown eyes back).
"Illario was all smiles. His was a calculated handsomeness. From his smooth skin to his perfect, white teeth, everything was contrived to be enticing". ← insane thing to say i think what did caterina do to influence that so strongly. like yes, lucanis is a mage-killer and that's certainly a Niche, but let's not pretend that Illario isn't filling a different sort of niche. both of them have been trained to be more valuable Alive than Dead.
"As they walked through the crowd, he basked in the appreciative glances he received," ← unsure whether this is omniscient on part of the author or intended to be directly lucanis's pov. this specific passage i've never been able to figure it out. if it's lucanis's pov though, i would wonder if that 'basking' isn't just… a front.
I have to assume this passage is somewhat omniscient because it goes on to say that "… while Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn't look away from—until he looked at you." ← i have to assume this is all referring to Lucanis? if so? because if it is lucanis's pov why would he… idk. 'the kind of man you couldn't look away from' could still refer to illario? idk. it's a really hard passage for me to parse i feel stupid. debate in the reblogs
This whole next part of the story makes me insane because it's just further emphasizing my point that Lucanis gives absolutely no thought to Illario as an equal working with him on this contract—THAT HE ASKED ILLARIO TO BE HERE FOR. i'll try to break this down but i recommend just reading along in your own copy alsfjk
"So what's the plan? Now that Ambrose knows we're coming" / "We were never going through the front door." ← Illario is asking here, now that there's proof the Venatori know the Crows are after them, what the new plan is. he is only JUST NOW finding out that Lucanis never HAD a plan that didn't account for this? again i'm not sure how lucanis "knew" unless it's supposed to make him out to be the better assassin, but it reads as though he was purposefully keeping Illario in the dark.
hang on let me just directly quote this next part
"I bought THIS—" Illario gestured towards his tunic. "Because YOU said we were dispatching Tevinter's 'premiere' wigmaker at an exclusive party. Emphasis on exclusive." "Uh-huh." "It was a rush order. We were with the tailor for hours." "I recall." "Why let me go through the motions of purchasing formal wear for an event we're not actually attending?" "I know how much you enjoy dressing up," Lucanis goaded and ducked under a pointed archway.
But. You are attending this event. Crucially you are in fact both attending this event and do need Illario to dress the part to get YOU where YOU need to be. Why are you goading him on like this?!
You're both on the way to this contract—and Lucanis is leading him through a back entrance, btw, AND THE FACT THAT ILLARIO DOESN'T ALREADY KNOW THAT TELLS ME THAT LUCANIS DIDN'T TELL HIM THAT PART OF THE PLAN EITHER—so why are you doing this?!
Lucanis why are you fucking with him like this on purpose? THERE'S NO REAL REASON GIVEN IN HIS NARRATIVE SO I HAVE TO EXTRAPOLATE THAT THIS IS JUST NORMAL FOR THEM. WHICH ISN'T NORMAL
quick interlude to add that Lucanis's 'bleeding heart' sympathies are here from the jump; he is aware of the cultural importance of the vhenedahl, and remarks that the magisters trying to make a statue to keep their slaves in line had the opposite effect.
Again Lucanis reveals some way into the passageways they're using—that Illario didn't know about on both accounts—and is SMUG ABOUT IT. HE TOSSES ILLARIO A SMUG LOOK OVER HIS SHOULDERS.
"I wouldn't complain if you filled me in," he grumbled. "Yes, you would." "As much," Illario conceded. "I wouldn't complain as much."
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THIS LUCANIS. The dynamic between them is just consistently reinforcing the idea that wherever Lucanis goes, Illario is expected to follow, unwaveringly, unquestioningly, and to be quite honest i would be driven fucking insane.
We're only so many pages in and there is a very clear way that Lucanis treats Illario just in the context of working CONTRACTS together, and that way is… not very good! YOU INVITED HIM HERE. WHY ARE YOU KEEPING HIM IN THE DARK?
I say this like I don't understand but a lot of people have rightly pointed out that this is their 'normal'. This is learned behavior, a learned dynamic, and I do believe Caterina is partly responsible for fostering it by showing such clear favoritism to Lucanis and likely giving him behavior to model.
Which goes back to my previous question of… why? If you're not going to name an heir and want this to be a winner takes it all relationship, why show such clear favoritism?! THESE ARE YOUR LAST TWO LIVING RELATIVES, CATERINA.
Back to the book. Lucanis's elf contact greets him with "Master Dellamorte". Cool! When she looks for an introduction, though, it is Illario that butts in with "Master Dellamorte the Lesser". ← hi my love. why did you do this? well because it reinforces the same shit we've been seeing the whole time. and calls back to how he already referred to lucanis as 'the great' in their first scene together.
"My cousin," Lucanis clarified. ← no defense or correction? fine maybe not the time or place. one of the more neutral statements that Lucanis has said to him but he's damned by faint praise and the fact there is no INNER NARRATIVE QUESTIONING ILLARIO'S ANSWER MEANS THIS IS ALSO ASSUMED TO BE NORMAL.
Heading up the passage. It's magic. the room spins
"Lucanis bit back a laugh as Illario held out an arm to steady himself." ← WHY. why is this funny to you. okay now im sounding like i'm seething at lucanis which i kind of am BUT TRUST I STILL LOVE HIM
THIS DYNAMIC IS JUST INSANE TO ME. okay anyways next bit. i'm covering one more scene and then will do another post for part 3. together we can work through this story a few pages every day. I'm gonna break up this last bit in some chunks
"You've made friends." / "You would too, if you ever left Treviso." / "I'm here now, aren't I?" ← Illario was trying to be nice. Lucanis immediately takes a shot at the fact that Illario stays in Treviso (are we implying here that Illario doesn't take jobs? Doesn't work?) and Illario reminds him that HE CAME TO VYRANTIUM FOR LUCANIS. He's here for you!
"Seriously, though, what is this place?" "A perk. Given by our mysterious benefactor." Lucanis quickened his pace, hoping to leave the answer at that. Illario did not take the hint. "Speaking of, I have some questions about him… her… them?"
1) diversity win
2) AGAIN. Illario is being kept in the dark about things and Lucanis is intentionally not sharing them. WHY? We are never given a reason WHY from Lucanis. Just that he doesn't want to share anything with Illario—ostensibly about their client but ABOUT THE WHOLE CONTRACT IS WHAT THE NARRATIVE SHOWS.
"Oh, come on," Illario urged, matching Lucanis's pace. "When have we ever taken on an anonymous client?" "Since someone could put tangible stock in the phrase 'Silence is golden'." "You're not the least bit curious?" Lucanis exhaled through his nose. "If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I'm not going to complain."
again we see Lucanis's sympathies coming to light. these are not bad feelings to have obviously we should hate racists. but they are assassins paid to kill and not get emotionally entangled in the job which Lucanis consistently does in this short story.
additionally. again. the way he talks to illario. i just. can it be stated enough at any point.
Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.
#dragon age#the wigmaker job#tevinter nights#dragon age analysis#dragon age meta#long post#my analysis#illario dellamorte#lucanis dellamorte#caterina dellamorte#house dellamorte (meta)
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Okays for one I'm just now following and discovering your stuff and I am eating it UPPP I'm vibing with it yes!
Secondly! I loved this blurb of yours in particular! Obv feel free to ignore if you aren't up for requests or anything but I'm so down for this?? Idk how you feel about poly!141 though I think I've seen it mentioned a bit so far, but I would honestly just love to hear more of your ideas regarding that with poly 141.
Maybe Simon amd Price are the beginning of it, Price taking care of Simon and things going from there, then eventually Soap and Gaz get involved because of course they do! Maybe they fond out about Price and Simon's after mission care, maybe Ghost sees that Gaz is beyond stressed and tells him he should go to Price for 'help'! Maybe there could be a litttttle hint of angst and Soap having self esteem issues and he gets a little withdrawn because he can tell something is going on with the others that he isn't a part of, but he doesn't know what, Price would fix that real quick and make sure Soap feels loved and included. They all end up taking care of and looking after eachother, they're used to looking after one another but now there's more to it! They all end up involved with eachother and they get a happy ending because I (and the entire community) say so.
Also random bit of talk, but I just love the idea of 141 retiring together from the military, living together, even working together still! Coffee/tea shop for shits and giggles of course, but I think maybe something like a mechanics shop or even some construction or renovation stuff would suit them more! They're used to keeping busy and using their hands, fixing problems, they do well with the labor involved it's what they're used to.
Anyways!!!! Just thought I'd word vomit all of this out there lmfao, sorry for the novel written 🤣😭 I haven't touched Tumblr in a while which is crazy bc the cod men have not left my brain since I was last here. Anyways!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day thank you for reading this far!!!
hehehe! Thank you so much! I'm glad people are enjoying. None of my baby soap yet, but I wanted to post this before I go to bed :3
Gaz was the first to know what was happening between his lieutenant and captain, having had the … misfortune, although he wouldn't really call it that, of walking in on Ghost with price's dick in his mouth.
He hadn't even realised it was Ghost at first, with no mask on, and Jesus he was pretty.
And Price all flushed, and god the size of his dick. Gaz was happy for them obviously. But he couldn't say he wasn't a bit jealous.
Not of one or the other in particular, he'd love to be in either of their positions. But it wasn't a clawing nasty jealousy.He didn't get sour seeing them together.
It was just more of a, ‘Well buggar’ I can't get with either now. But all in all, Gaz didn't give a shit, he was happy they were happy.
But right now, he didn't want to think about it, his brain would twist it. He was sitting out by one of the fields in the rain. Just needing the fresh air, the getaway, something.
All the back to back missions, and then family drama did not have him in the best headspace, he was tired and exhausted and just wanted to shut his fucking brain down.
He was so in his head, he didn't even notice Ghost coming up beside him, until a large warm hand was on his shoulder, causing him to jump.
“Alright Kyle?”the voice came soft.
Gaz froze, unsure how to answer, he couldn't exactly be honest, but he didn't want to lie.
He hated lying to those he cared about.“Uhm…. Debatable?”
The hand in his shoulder moved to his hair. “Hm, how about we don't debate your mental state, and instead get you inside and dry.” It was phrased as a suggestion, but Gaz knew it was an order.
He nodded mutely, allowing Ghost to pull him up to his feet. A hand on the small of his back, leading him. Well that was certainly the intention. For Gaz currently it was much more of a grounding force. Had that touch not been there, he genuinely thought he might have burst into tears.
He barely realised where they were going until they were within the Superior officers building, but… they weren't going to Ghosts room?Gaz frankly didn't have the energy to question it. He trusted Ghost, whatever he was doing, Gaz would follow.
He blinked as Ghost led him into Price's room. He hadn't been in here much.but it was cosy, warm toned, many pillows around, blackout curtains, a few candles. All together something that already made Gaz want to relax.
Even as he shivered from the chill settling in. He had no clue why he was being brought here, but didn't argue. Price looked up from his bed, his eyes narrowing, at the state of Gaz.
He was pretty sure he looked shit. Eyes were probably red from crying, whole body drenched and shivering, being led by Ghost.He probably looked pathetic as fuck.
And now his captain was seeing this.
Before his thoughts could spiral more, Price stood up, walking over.Gaz wasn't quite sure what he expected, but it wasn't Price's warm hands gently cupping his face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks.
And it especially wasn't the soft coo “Aw… sweet boy, your soaking. Come on, what's happening?” As the rough hands tugged him gently towards the couch. He vaguely registered that Ghost followed, the hand on his back not moving even as he was sat on the couch. It still being a warm, grounding weight.
Price knelt In Front of him, a hand on his thigh “How long were you in the rain love? You’re freezing cold.” Gaz couldn't even put together enough words to explain, he honestly wasn't sure.
Luckily Ghost spoke. “I know he was out there for at least an hour. The idiot” The last sentence was said fondly.
Price winced. “No wonder you are fully drenched, love. Come on” Price's calloused hands slide under the sergeants shirt. “You'll catch a cold” he murmured before directing his attention to Ghost “Si, you know where my spares are”
Gaz was so out of it, he barely registered he whined slightly when Ghost stood, stopping rubbing his back. Price immediately shushed him, in that same gentle quiet tone. “Shh relax darling, he is just grabbing something for me yeah?”
His tone was soft as he pulled Gaz's shirt off, chucking it aside. His hands trailing the skin warming it up, and gently soothing the younger man.
Soon Ghost returned, slipping one of Price's larger shirts over Gaz's head, and then slipping a larger soft pair of track pants onto him as well.
Gaz simply moved where they prompted, trusting them, as they dressed him in warm, dry clothes.He still wasn't sure what he expected but it wasn't both men then standing and sitting on either side, but he was too tired to question it and just melted against them.
Price voice was sweet like honey in his ear. “That's it Lovie. Settle down, it's okay”Gaz's eyes absently tracked over to Ghost, trying to get a glimpse of his expression.
His… boyfriend? Sex partner? Whatever was calling Gaz love. Was he not bothered?Ghost seemed to immediately understand the look, one of his unique skills. “We aren't monogamous, you know? I mean we don't even technically have a label on it, but price makes really good stress relief, if you like subbing.”
Gaz blinked, finally speaking for the first time since entering the room “I.. are you.. encouraging me to fuck him??”
His lieutenant shrugged “Not necessarily fuck, but he is good. Even if you keep all your clothes on, he can get you relaxed and in a sweet headspace, and you clearly need something Kyle”
They weren't monogamous? Not only that, Ghost was encouraging it, and price wasn't arguing? Gaz felt like his head might explode, he couldn't believe it.
He definitely wanted to.. but.. he didn't want to leave Ghost's side. And then that fucking power of Ghosts kicked in again.
“I can stay, Kyle. I don't have to go anywhere” At the nod he received he continued “just relax and be a good boy yeah? We'll take care of you”
Gaz had never considered himself a bottom, or submissive in any amount, he always topped. Even with soap, when they fooled round, there usually was no one in control, but if anyone was, it was Gaz.
But at those sweet, sweet words of praise, and Ghost gently tugging him onto the thick soft thighs, he melted. Fuck he would do anything they asked.
Price huffed a laugh. “Oh the sweet boy, yeah? You're gonna be so good for us” He murmured, stroking Gaz's hair.
Slowly, gaz's head started to drift off into a much nicer place. It was softer, gentler. Mission reports and recruit files fell to the wayside, briefings and emails were long forgotten.
Family drama, and exhausting missions were not even a thought as he leaned against Ghost's chest as Price's hands trailed across him, gentle.
Treating him as if he was important.A hand made it's way to his hair, he wasn't even sure whose it was, but it scratched the crown of his scalp just right.
The weight a comfort, in his damp hair. He, much to his mild dismay, began to drift off, sandwiched between the two men. He tried to fight it at first, but when Price gently rumbled at him to rest, they could continue another day, his eyes flickered shut.
#cod#cod fanfic#cod mw2#cod modern warfare#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod smut#??Kinda? I dunno#It is dom sub shit sook#price cod#captain john price#captain price#john price#price#task force 141#gaz garrick#gaz cod#cod john price#poly 141#Gazsoap mentioned#Ghostgaz#Pricegaz#Priceghost#Priceghostgaz
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𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲. 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞.
plot: henry is always here for his best friend, but everyone reaches their breaking point eventually. but maybe, just maybe, this is for the best.
pairing: henry hart x fem!reader
show: henry danger
warnings: light mentions of blood, cuts and bruises; implied domestic violence but nothing graphic; henry swearing when he’s pissed off (listen, that boy swears a lot and you can’t convince me of the opposite). also, the part in italics is a flashback from henry's pov.
word count: 6,8k
author’s notes: english isn’t my first language, apologies for the possible mistakes. this piece is inspired by the song Hard from Why Don’t We, and i guess a little bit by the song Treat You Better from Shawn Mendes, so i suggest you listen to the songs beforehand to get the vibe of the story, or read the lyrics to know what it’s about. it takes place around season five of henry danger, to give you an idea of how old the characters are. also, it’s implied that the reader is in a bad relationship, it might be triggering for some people so read it to your own discretion. and if you ever need anyone to talk to, my dms are always open.
henry hart masterlist | main masterlist
Henry lays wide awake in his bed, looking up at the ceiling above him. His hands are flat on his stomach as he lays on his back, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He knows it’s late at night and that he’ll probably regret it in the morning, aware that he’ll have to wake up around 7 if he doesn’t want to be late for school again. He just can’t seem to get her out of his head. Every day and every night, she plagues his every thought; Y/N, his best friend since kindergarten.
When he’s at school, she’s on his mind. When he’s at work, she’s on his mind. When he lays alone in bed at night, she’s on his mind. No matter what he’s doing, or where he is, she’s always in a corner of his mind. Always. It doesn’t help that she goes to the same school and works in the same place; he’s always catching sight of her, even when she isn’t looking. He doesn’t know how anyone hasn’t said anything to him, or how she hasn’t noticed him staring, because he isn’t the most subtle person in the world when it comes to his feelings for her. He always gets sidetracked when she enters a room, his eyes always linger on her when she walks away, his cheeks always flare up when she smiles, and when she stands close to him, he always pretends to accidentally brush his hand against hers, craving the warmth of her skin against his. Perhaps he is better at hiding his feelings than he thought he’d be; either way, he doesn’t mind. If his feelings are unacknowledged by the people around him, it makes it easier to push down those feelings, forever wondering if they’ll go away; if it’ll hurt less every time she walks away.
Henry lets out a sigh, turning on his side to check the time on his bedside clock. The bright red numbers display 12:15 in the morning, and he groans, burying his face in his pillow out of frustration. He knows he won’t get enough sleep to get himself through the day and that he’ll probably fall asleep in class at some point, and he hates it. He doesn’t really know when his sleep schedule became fucked up; if it had been when he first became Kid Danger when he was thirteen, or if it were since he first realized he had feelings for Y/N. Perhaps a little bit of both, he thinks. He did choose to become Captain Man’s sidekick, but he certainly didn’t choose to fall in love with his best friend. He hates it, but there isn’t much he can do about it; even if he tries to push his feelings away, they’ll always come back to bite him in the ass. It doesn’t help that Y/N already has a boyfriend and, granted, Henry hates the guy, but Y/N seems happy with him so Henry thinks it’s all that matters. If she is happy, then he is happy for her. At least, that’s what he told himself when she first began dating the guy; he went back on his words when he realized he loved her.
Henry closes his eyes as he sighs again, remembering the night when he admitted to himself that he was in love with Y/N. She hadn’t shown up to his birthday party that his parents had thrown, which was unlike her and it had him worried the whole night. Until she showed up, at midnight, on his front porch.
Y/N is standing there, with tears in her eyes as she looks up at him. Her arms are wrapped around herself in a hug, as if she were trying to shield herself from the cold air of the night. Henry doesn’t know what to say, still mad that she wasn’t there for his birthday party, but his anger dissolves into nothing when his eyes drift to the red tear stains on her cheeks. He holds his breath as a sob rushes past her lips, and his arms find her waist to hold her up when her knees almost give out under her weight. He leads her inside, closing the front door behind him with the heel of his foot, and he helps her up to his room where she sits on his bed.
Henry doesn’t have to say anything as he sits next to her and she rests her head on his shoulder, but he is smart enough to understand. He feels his chest tighten when his mind makes him think about what might have happened, that perhaps her boyfriend had laid a hand on her, and he tilts his head downward to look at her. He shivers at the thought, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. He knows it hasn’t been long since she started dating this guy from high school, about a month or two, but she seemed happy with him, and Henry frowns when he thinks about it. His hands move to hold the sides of her face as he shifts in his spot to be facing her, and his eyes flicker to the fading bruise in the corner of her left eye. His frown deepens, not remembering ever seeing a bruise on her face before, but his features soften when tears begin to roll down her cheeks the second his eyes drift back to hers, holding her gaze in his. He uses his thumbs to wipe the tears away, worry flashing in his eyes. Warmth spreads through his muscles when her hands find his wrists, and she wraps her fingers around them to ground herself. Her hands are cold, but her skin is soft against his, and his heart flutters in his chest. Another sob leaves her lips, and Henry moves his hands to wrap his arms around her shoulders to pull her close to him.
“Wanna tell me what happened?” He whispers softly, resting his cheek against the top of her head.
Y/N shakes her head a little, further burying it into his chest as she grips the hem of his shirt, her tears forming wet patches against the cotton fabric. Her shoulders tremble with every sob that leaves her body, but Henry keeps her close to him, using his hands to draw soothing circles against her back. He closes his eyes as he begins to rock their bodies back and forth gently, until her sobs die down and he can hear the slow pace of her breath and her soft sniffles. She’s the one to pull away from him, using the palm of her hand to wipe away her runny nose, and her lips break into an embarrassed smile as she looks down in her lap. One of her hands reaches for something in the pocket of her coat, and Henry tilts his head in confusion when she hands him a small white box with a silver ribbon on it.
“Happy birthday Hen.” Y/N whispers hoarsely, looking at him with a small smile on her lips.
He smiles then, taking the box from her and unraveling the ribbon before he carefully opens the lid. He recognizes what it is; she has the same one, and she gifted one to Jasper and Charlotte too, on their respective birthdays. It’s a permanent chain silver bracelet, one Y/N says is supposed to represent their friendship. Henry knew he would get one from her eventually, because she’d gifted one to their friends, he just didn’t think she’d gift it to him on his eighteenth birthday.
“I love it.” He tells her, smiling.
She smiles back. “C’mon, I’ll help you put it on.”
Henry can still see the sadness in her eyes, and the fading purple bruise in the corner of her eye, but he lets her take the chain bracelet and the pair of cutting pliers provided in the kit. He extends his right arm in front of him, and she puts the silver bracelet around his wrist, using the pliers to cut the chain. He observes as she concentrates herself on sealing the bracelet, making sure it’s not too tight so that it sits comfortably on his wrist. He watches her, and his heart flutters in his chest when her fingers brush against his skin, sending shivers down his spine and he can feel the heat flushing his cheeks. His eyes drift to her face, and he sees that she’s slightly poking her tongue out in concentration, licking her lips after taking a deep breath. His heart begins to race in his chest, and the butterflies flutter in his stomach when she brings the palm of her hand against his to analyze her work on the silver chain. He holds his breath when she glances up to him through her eyelashes, a soft smile on her lips. He hears her let out a small chuckle when he looks away from her, knowing his cheeks are probably as red as a tomato, but he can’t help it; she looks beautiful, wrapped in her black coat and with her hair falling on each side of her face, eyebrows turned into a focused frown as she focuses on the permanent bracelet again. She shifts positions, and her knees touch his, sending a wave of warmth through his muscles. He loves having her close to him, in the comforting silence of his room. He loves observing her, and the little things she does that only he seems to notice. He loves the way her hand feels against his when her palm is pressed against his, and he has to fight the urge to intertwine their fingers together. His eyes drift from their hands to her face again, lingering on her lips a little too long, and he thinks about how it would feel like to taste them; to have his lips against hers, to be kissing her.
He blinks, reminding himself that she already has a boyfriend, that he cannot be in love with her, and he is pulled away from his thoughts when she clears her throat. He looks up to her, and he sees her put a strand of hair back behind her ear when she sits straighter, letting the cutting pliers fall between her crossed legs on his bed. He glances down at the silver chain on his wrist as she brings her right arm close to his, revealing the matching permanent bracelet on hers.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here today.” She says, her eyes flickering to his.
“Why are you here now?” Henry asks her, his voice barely a whisper.
He knows she’s picked up on the worry in his voice, because her eyes drift back to their wrists, and he can feel her tears falling on his skin as she looks down.
“Did he hurt you?”
Henry doesn’t know why his voice comes out with a crack; perhaps because he is afraid of what her answer might be. He doesn’t know why he asked her either, but he wants to know. Because she is his best friend, and he cares about her.
His blood freezes in his veins and his face pales when he sees her nod her head, more tears rolling down her cheeks as sobs leave her lips. His chest hurts as his heart constricts inside, and his breathing becomes shallow. He has to keep himself together because, as she falls apart in front of him, he knows she needs him. He shifts around on his mattress, opening his arms. Y/N takes refuge in them, wrapping her own around his midsection and she buries her face in his chest. He lets out a low sigh, feeling her tears through the fabric of his shirt, and he begins to draw circles on her back in a soothing way. He lays his head atop hers, his cheek pressed against the crown of her head as he gently rocks their bodies back and forth until her cries die down. She deserves so much better than her boyfriend, Henry thinks as he holds her close, wondering what else has been going on that he doesn’t know about.
Henry groans, running a hand over his face as he tries to forget that night, pushing the memory to the far back of his mind. The moon casts its light in his room through the window, and he can see it reflecting on the chain bracelet on his wrist. Four months. It had been four months since then, and Henry still couldn’t understand how Y/N went back to her boyfriend. She says it’s because she loves him, because he’ll never lay a hand on her again, but Henry has been observing her since that night. Because he worries about her, and because he loves her. He would notice the way she’d pull her sleeves down or wear scarves in class when she never wore one in her life before. He would take note of the makeup she wears, when she’d never been one to cover herself with makeup in the first place. He would see how she’d flinch when someone would accidentally hit a locker, or if a door was slammed too hard. He would catch sight of her trying to make herself small in the Man Cave whenever one of them would get angry and raise their voice. He knows that what she wants everyone to believe isn’t true because he sees her. And because he notices the little things no one else seems to pick up on.
Henry turns on his back again, eyes up to the ceiling. Just as sleep is about to pull him in, he hears the familiar creaking noise of his window being lifted open. He sits up on his bed, back against the wall behind him as he searches for the lightswitch of the lamp on his bedside table. Henry blinks, adjusting his eyes to the dim light in his room. He runs a hand across his face as he looks up, a frown creasing lines on his forehead when he sees Y/N tumbling into his room through the window, falling onto his couch to her right. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of her, and he pulls the bedcovers away from his body as he makes his way to the loft area in his room, climbing the couple of stairs before sitting next to her on the couch, his body turned a little so that he can face her. She doesn’t look at him, but he sees the phone in her hand and he hears the soft sniffles that leave her. His arms find home around her shoulders as he pulls her in closer, and his heart flutters when she rests her head against his shoulder. Her phone falls onto her lap, and he can see the blocked symbol next to her boyfriend’s name on her screen. His chest heaves up as a sigh leaves him, and he mentally curses himself. He doesn’t know why he was expecting anything else, but it does not surprise him that she’s come to him. Again.
It’s a repetitive circle, ever since she started dating Gareth, her boyfriend. He’d pull her away from her friends, then they’d have a fight, and Henry would be there to pick up the pieces when she’d come to him and break down in his arms. Days later, Y/N would run back to Gareth as if nothing happened, and Henry would be left with another piece of his heart gone with her. He knows it’s not right, that he should put distance between him and Y/N, but then his mind reminds him of how she’s always been there for him after he broke up with his first girlfriend, how she comforted him and helped him change his mind after Chloe and then Bianca left to do a television show in the woods. She’s always been there for him; it’s only right if he’s there for her. Even if his heart breaks a little more each time she walks away. Because even if she’ll never be his, he’ll always be hers.
Y/N is the one to pull away from him, using one hand to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, and her sniffles pull him out of his thoughts. Her eyes drift up to his, and she cracks a thin-lipped smile. Henry tilts his head, sighing.
“I’m sorry.” Y/N whispers, looking down when she hears him sigh. “I– I should have called…”
“It’s fine, Y/N.” Henry tells her, taking her hand in his. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
Y/N chuckles under her breath, looking down at their hands together. The warmth of his skin spreads through hers, and she feels her heart flutter in her chest. She clears her throat, pulling her hand away from his and she looks away from him.
“He said he needed distance, and I had nowhere to go…” She whispers, scratching the back of her neck.
Henry knows what she means; his parents are never really here for him, but hers are never there. They’re always traveling abroad for work, only showing up in Swellview twice a year; one time for her birthday, and a second time for Christmas. So Y/N always spends most of her time at work, at his house, or at her boyfriend’s place.
Henry shakes his head and he scoots closer to her, pulling her hand in his own again. His eyes scan over her features, and a frown creases lines on his forehead when he notices a new bruise on her cheek, and the small cut on her upper lip. He grinds his teeth, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep his anger simmering beneath the surface. A low sigh leaves his lips instead, and he closes his eyes briefly.
“You know you’re always welcome here.” He says eventually, looking at her. “Besides, I still have the clothes you forgot the last time you slept here.”
Y/N chuckles at that, and Henry swears it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. It’s been a while since he’s heard too; he can’t really remember when was the last time he did, but he knows he’s missed it. His heart flutters when she looks him in the eyes with a genuine smile on her lips, and it’s like the anger in him has never existed. His body relaxes, and he finds himself smiling at her.
“I’ll take the couch,” he tells her. “You can take my bed. Make yourself at home.”
Her smile widens. “Thank you Hen.”
She lifts her free hand, pressing her palm against his left cheek and she tilts her head, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on his right one. Henry feels the heat rush to his cheeks as his breath gets caught up in his throat, and he watches as she gets down the couple stairs of the loft area in his room, heading for the bathroom in the hallway after taking her clothes from his closet like she owned the place. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. What is he doing?
When she returns after a few minutes, Henry notices that she has inadvertently taken a shirt of his out of the closet instead of hers. His breath hitches, and his eyes travel up and down her frame to fully take in the sight of her in his clothes. It’s just his shirt, he knows that, but because he’s always been taller than her, it looks like a dress that stops at her thighs when she wears it, and the short sleeves slide off of her shoulders a little. He can see the edge of her collarbone because she has tied her hair in a messy bun to the back of her head, and Henry blinks, his eyes drifting to anywhere but her. She already has a boyfriend, he tries to remind himself. But that selfish side of him thinks it’s not fair; that he should be the one who gets to see her like this every night. He should be the one who gets to take her out for dinner. He should be the one who gets to give her flowers for no particular reason. He should be the one who gets to tell her he loves her. Not that stupid boyfriend of hers; but him.
Henry shakes his head, letting out a low, frustrated sigh. From the corner of his eyes he watches as Y/N slips under his bed covers, leaving her locked phone onto his nightstand before she glances his way with a soft smile curling her lips upwards and carving dimples in the curves of her cheeks.
“You’re gonna be okay?” Henry finds himself asking, settling himself onto his couch with a pillow behind his back.
“You’re giving me your bed for the night,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I should be the one asking you that.”
“N– no, I mean… about Gareth. Are you gonna be alright?”
She sighs, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “Y– yeah, I think. I mean, I miss him… but he needs space. I– I know he’s trying to be better, but we both needed some air tonight. I needed some air. And he needs the distance, even if only for tonight. But I miss him…”
Henry nods, only half-listening to what she’s saying. He doesn’t understand how she can think about going back to Gareth, when all he does is break her heart every time. He doesn’t understand how she stays with her boyfriend when he keeps hurting her, leaving bruises on her skin. And Henry can see the way her shoulders tense when she mentions Gareth, even without saying his name, and how she keeps fumbling with her fingers, picking at her nails. Y/N always does it when she’s anxious, Henry notices. He always notices the little things no one else seems to pick up on; because he cares. But he doesn’t say anything, because she is his best friend and he doesn’t want to lose her.
“Good night, Hen.” Y/N whispers, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He licks his lips and glances towards her. “G’night Y/N.”
As she turns off the lights in his room, Henry takes one last glance at the clock on his bedside table. 2:05 in the morning. Now he’ll definitely fall asleep in class.
—
The last time Henry spoke to Y/N was two weeks earlier, when she’d showed up into his room in the middle of the night after another fight with her boyfriend. He hadn’t talked to her since, and he’d only seen her at school. She’s stopped coming to work as well, but when he tried talking to her at school, she’d look down on the ground and avoid conversation at all cost. She was ignoring him and Henry was pretty sure her boyfriend was the one making her do it.
“Alright Kid.” Ray’s voice catches Henry’s attention. “You’ve been sulking for the last two weeks. What’s going on?”
“It’s Y/N.” Charlotte says bluntly, and Henry glares at her.
“Oh come on, Char!”
“What?” She crosses her arms, holding his gaze. “You’ve been in a mood since Y/N began ignoring you. And, she stopped coming to work.”
“Oh, so you think it’s my fault she’s not coming to work?”
“I didn’t say I did.” Charlotte shrugs.
“What happened with Y/N?” Ray asks before Henry could reply to Charlotte.
“I don’t know.” Henry sighs, running a hand over his face. “She hasn’t talked to me in two weeks. She’s been avoiding me.”
“Did you do something wrong?”
“Wh– what? No! She came to my place because she’d gotten into a fight with her boyfr–”
Henry stops himself, eyes widening slightly when realization dwells upon him. Of course. He should have known; he should have figured it out sooner. Now that he thinks about it, she hadn’t returned that shirt of his she accidentally borrowed when she came by, and he swears she had been wearing it the next day. At school, where her boyfriend was. Henry groans, throwing his head back in annoyance.
“Stupid Gareth…” Henry mutters under his breath.
Charlotte frowns, having caught on. “What about Gareth?”
“He’s a fucking asshole, that’s what he is.”
“Who’s Gareth?” Ray asks, frowning.
Charlotte begins to answer, but she barely gets a word out as the emergency alarm begins to echo across the Man Cave. Henry jumps on his feet, walking over to the supercomputer. An emergency is what he needs to keep his mind off of everything else. He presses one of the larger buttons on the control panel, his muscle memory guiding his movements. After five years of working as Captain Man’s sidekick, you do pick up on a few things around here. The Man Cave sort of became his second home.
“Captain Man’s emergency line, how may we punch your problem?”
Henry speaks up, taking sight of Charlotte sitting on the chair to his right with her hands roaming over the control panel to try and pinpoint the location of the call, and he feels Ray standing behind him, probably with his hands on his hips as he looks to the screen.
Henry frowns when no one answers, but he can hear them breathing through the phone line. It’s ragged, coming out in hiccups, and faintly in the distance he can discern the sound of objects clattering onto the ground. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, frowning.
“This is Kid Danger speaking, how may I help you?” He tries again, worriedly glancing at Charlotte.
He doesn’t want to say anything, but his heart leaps in his chest, his heartbeat quickening with every second that passes by. He still doesn’t know where the phone call comes from, but judging by the person’s silence his mind plays him all the worst scenarios he can imagine. Y/N still occupies the corner of his mind, and this phone call is one that is way too familiar for Henry’s liking. A week after his birthday, she’d given him a call, and the beginning had been just like this one.
“Oh, shit… Henry?”
He hears Charlotte whisper next to him, and he turns to look at her when she nudges his side. She points a finger at one of the five monitors of the supercomputer, and Henry follows her finger to the green letters displayed on the screen. He squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. He takes a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. Y/N’s home address is blinking in green letters on one of the computer’s monitors, and Henry feels a shiver down his spine. Why did he have to be right about this?
“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out, ignoring Ray’s confused look. “I– I’m right here, okay? I’m still on the phone with you. Can you– can you leave the house?”
His stomach drops when he hears her whimper through the phone, and he clenches his fists at his sides. Chills run down his spine when he hears more clattering on the other side of the line, followed by Y/N’s quiet sobs. Then he hears footsteps, and something like a window being open and a soft thud as if someone had fallen on the ground. He swallows back the lump in his throat, his heartbeat quickening beneath his chest. There’s a hand on his shoulder, Henry can feel it and when he glances to his left, Ray is there with a worried look in his eyes. He may not show it in the right way because he acts like a man-child more often than not, but Henry knows Ray cares for the kids he works with, including Y/N.
“I– I’m… out…”
Y/N’s voice brings Henry back to look helplessly at the screens. Through the phone, he can hear she’s panting, her footsteps clacking against the ground. She’s running, he tells himself. He lets out a relieved sigh; at least she’s getting away from her boyfriend.
“Can you make it to Junk’N’Stuff?” He asks her, worried. “Or do you need me to pick you up somewhere?”
“I can– Junk’N’Stuff– is fine…”
“O– okay, I’ll– I’ll go up to the store and wait for you, alright? And Ray and Charlotte are gonna stay on the phone with you, okay?”
She doesn’t answer him, but he knows she’s heard him. Ray clasps his shoulder, and Henry takes it as his queue to leave the Man Cave. He knows Jasper has closed the junk store around half an hour earlier, so no one is up there. Henry prefers it that way, because then he’ll have the time alone with Y/N. No one but him actually knows just how bad it’s gotten between her and Gareth, because she always hid her bruises with makeup and for some reason, not even Charlotte had noticed. And his brain keeps picturing the worst-case scenarios, making his heart beat faster as he steps inside the elevator and presses on the store’s up button.
When he’s up in the store, he waits by the front door, eyes darting to the outdoors for any sign of her until he sees her, catching her breath as she leans under a lamppost. He opens the door, and he sees her lift her head when she hears the bells jingling. He notices the look of relief on her face when she spots him, hanging up her phone and shoving it in the back pocket of her pants before she rushes toward him. She stumbles on her feet, exhausted, but Henry is there to catch her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her on her feet.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Henry mutters in a reassuring way as he leads her inside.
He can hear her muffled cries against his chest as he closes the shop’s front door with the heel of his foot, and her body trembles in his arms.
“I’m right here.” He whispers as he moves his hands to hold the sides of her face. “You’re safe now; he can’t hurt you.”
At first he can’t see her features, but when he brushes her hair away from her face that’s when he spots her busted lip, and the darkening bruise around her left eye. There is a large bleeding cut across her right eyebrow arch, and a few smaller ones all over the right side of her face, as if something sharp had been thrown in her face. Her cheeks are reddened by the tears that escape her eyes, her lips trembling with every sharp breath she takes.
Henry’s face pales when he takes in the sight of her, his heart dropping. He knows that no matter what he says, or does, she will run back to her boyfriend after a day or two. Like she always does. But the selfish side of him knows that he cannot let her go back to Gareth; he cannot risk her being hurt again. Yesterday it was a few bruises, tonight it’s a few cuts and a black eye, but tomorrow? Tomorrow still isn’t set in stone, but he can’t let her risk her life again; no matter how much she claims to love her boyfriend.
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before he sneaks an arm under her kneecaps and the other around her shoulder blades, picking her up bridal style. He feels her wrap her arms around his shoulders for support, and he feels her bury her face in the crook of his neck. He makes his way around the shop with her in his arms, going towards the elevator in the back shop. With agility, he steps inside the elevator and presses down onto the Man Cave button. He can feel her slow breath against his skin; it sends shivers down his spine, and when he looks down at her, he sees she’s somehow fallen asleep in his arms. He smiles a little, sighing when the elevator dings open, and he sees Ray and Charlotte sitting on the round couch in the middle of the Man Cave, with worried looks on their faces. He shakes his head when they glance up to him, and he dips his chin toward Y/N. Charlotte nods in understanding, but Ray frowns, taking note of the dried blood he spots on the girl’s shirt.
Henry ignores Ray’s questioning gaze as he makes his way to the sprocket, disappearing in the hallway that leads to the few bedrooms the Man Cave has to offer. He walks past the one with a big “DO NOT ENTER” sign hung on the door, well-aware that it is Ray’s room and he will not make the mistake of stepping inside a second time. Then, there is Schwoz’s guest bedroom, and the one his sister Winnie uses when she comes to visit. Henry keeps on walking until he makes it to the end of the hallway, using his foot to push open the door to the last guest bedroom.
Y/N stirs up in his arms just as he puts her down on the mattress, and he sits beside her, smiling when she opens her eyes. The blood on her face is now dry and sticks to her skin, and Henry frowns, standing up without a word to look for a first-aid kit in one of the drawers in the room’s closet. When he returns to the bed with the red case in his hand, Y/N is sitting up on the mattress, leaning against the backrest behind her, and she watches as he pulls out some cotton pads and the antiseptic spray from the kit.
“It might sting a little.” Henry whispers as he brings a cotton to her face.
She nods, allowing him to clean the cuts on her cheeks and across her eyebrow arch, wincing in pain and gritting her teeth. But she keeps her eyes on her best friend, watching as his wrinkled brows carve a line on his forehead, and how his nose scrunches up whenever she lets out a wince. She sees the worry in his chocolate irises when he leans back, his eyes drifting across her features to make sure he’s cleaned every bit of dried blood off of her face.
“Thank you.” She whispers, reaching for his hand.
“You can’t keep going back to him, Y/N.” Henry blurts out all of the sudden, pulling his hand away from hers.
Y/N frowns. “He’s my boyfriend, Hen. And I love him.”
“I know you do, I just– I’m not sure he loves you, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Seriously, Y/N?”
Henry’s frowns deepens as he stands up, and Y/N’s smile falters, her lips pressed into a thin line as she watches him pace back and forth in front of her, frustratedly tugging at his hair. She shakes her head, heaving out a sigh. Henry stops pacing, hands on his hips as he turns to her.
“Do you know how hard it is?” He begins, scowling. “To be the one to fix you, wh– when all you do is run back to the one who breaks your heart?” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been with him for six months, and every time something happens between the two of you, who do you run to? Me! I’m always here to pick up the pieces of your broken heart, and every fucking time you go back to that piece of shit as if nothing happened! I know we’re best friends Y/N, and I know you’ve always been there for me when I had girl problems but, fuck, you’re making this too hard…” He inhales sharply, running a hand over his face.
Henry doesn’t dare to look at her, at first, and he isn’t sure that he wants to. He probably has ruined their friendship but at this point, he doesn’t care. He needed to tell her everything; he needed to tell her how he feels about her, and damn the consequences.
“I can’t keep on pretending that this isn’t hurting me, too.” He sighs, resuming his pacing. “I can’t keep on pretending that watching you getting hurt by the man who claims to love you doesn’t break my heart every fucking time, because it does. It does break my heart to see you hurt.” He stops pacing then, finally looking at her. “I can’t stand to see you getting hurt by him every single time, and I can’t keep on having my heart broken every time you run back to him. So if you want to go back to him, I’m not holding you back, but I won’t be there to pick up the pieces when he breaks your heart again.”
His eyes sting as he blinks back the tears in his tear ducts. He won’t let her see him cry. He inhales sharply, his gaze drifting away to look anywhere but her. The silence in the room is suffocating, and Henry feels his chest tightens with each passing second. He’s too afraid to move, his feet anchored to the ground, and he’s scared of what she might say. He hears her shift on the mattress, wincing a little when she moves around, and then he can feel her standing close to him. Y/N brings one hand up, and he feels the warmth of her palm against his skin, her touch soft on his right cheek. With a soft pressure, she turns his face to hers, and Henry is forced to look at her. Her gentle smile lightens her features, reaching her glossy and bright eyes. Her head is slightly tilted to the side as her eyes roam over his features, her thumb delicately brushing over his flushed cheekbone.
“I can’t keep on being hurt by you, Y/N…” Henry whispers, his voice wavering as he takes a sharp breath.
“I don’t want to be the one hurting you, Hen.” Her voice is soft when she speaks up, and a single tear runs down her cheek. “And I am sorry for ever hurting you. I just–”
“I know…” Henry sighs, defeated. “You’re in love with him.”
“It’s not– it’s not that simple…” Y/N sighs. “I can’t– I can’t just leave him.”
She drops her hand back to her side, sitting back on the mattress’ edge, and she begins to anxiously fiddle with her fingers in her lap. Henry frowns when he no longer feels her touch, and he sits next to her. His hands find hers, and he takes them in his to stop her from torturing her fingers.
“You don’t– you don’t have to do this alone, you know.” He tells her, his tone gentle. “If you want to leave him, I’m right here with you, I promise.”
“I– I’m scared of what he’ll do if– if I leave him…”
“Y/N…” He lets go of her hands to hold her face in his, making her look his way. “You know he’s not right for you. He keeps hurting you, physically. Emotionally too, I bet, because it’s the first time in two weeks that we’re talking. You deserve so much better than that piece of shit.” He smiles when she laughs at that. “You deserve a gentleman that will treat you right, take you out for dinner and give you flowers for no specific reason. I’ve known you my whole life Y/N; you’re one of a kind, and you deserve someone who’ll love you with all their heart. Not someone like Gareth…”
“But, someone… like you?”
Henry falls silent next to her, because as much as he loves her, he didn’t think she’d catch on to what he was trying to tell her. Does he want her to be his girlfriend? Yes. Does he want to be her boyfriend? Also, yes. But he knows the things she’s been through with Gareth, and as much as he loves her, he’s smart enough to know that if she leaves her boyfriend, she will need time to heal from that relationship. He’s willing to wait; for her, he’d wait a lifetime, because he wants nothing more than to see her happy.
“One day. Maybe.” He whispers, brushing his thumb over the cuts on her cheek. “But you’re not alone, Y/N. You have me. And Charlotte, and Jasper. Even Piper, or Ray and Schwoz. I know you, and I know you have the strength to leave him, even if you think you can’t. You’re the strongest person I know, and you deserve to be happy.”
“Okay.” She breathes out, smiling.
“O– okay?”
She hums softly, chuckling when he lets out a relieved sigh. Maybe he was right to tell her how he felt. Maybe he was right to tell her what he thought of her relationship with her boyfriend. Because maybe, just maybe, it opened the possibility of something more. Because maybe, just maybe, one day he would get to call her his.
ⓒ writerinlearning – 2025
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Hello, could you write something about Steve please ? They're not together yet, but reader who's shameless and says everything that goes trough her/their mind says "Damn I wanna kiss you" in the middle of a conversation with him. I found that funny, but maybe there's a lil story we can make with that ?
You've always been the kind of person who says everything they're thinking and people tend to either love or hate that about you. Steve, though, that's his favorite thing about you. He loves that you're shameless about speaking your mind. He loves that you just say whatever thought comes to your head no matter what it is.
Your mind is such a beautiful thing and he loves when you give him a glimpse inside it, especially when you talk about something that you're passionate about. He could listen to you talk for hours.
He often wonders if it's obvious that he's madly in love with you when he listens to you speak. If you know, you certainly haven't said anything. You're smart so he's sure it's only a matter of time before you figure him out.
He knows you love him too. He can see it so clearly in the way you talk to him, looking at him like you have hearts in your eyes. Well, that and Robin drunkenly told him one night and when he confronted her the next morning, she confirmed that it was true.
So he's been trying so hard to figure out how to ask you about it. He invited you over for dinner and a movie with the intention of asking about it, but he doesn't want to scare you away. So he's just listening to you speak with that lovesick look on his face while you go on and on about a show you've been trying to get him to watch. He'd much rather just have you explain it. It's much more interesting that way, he's sure.
Now you're about to put on a movie the two of you have seen a billion times and for whatever reason, you're looking at him differently. You're about to blurt something, he just knows it. He knows you like the back of his hand, every single mark on your face, every single quirk.
"Damn, I really want to kiss you," you tell him and his eyes light up, the honey color lighting up in the warm glow of the lamp that's shining on his face from the table that's behind you.
"You want to kiss me?" He asks with a laugh and you just nod, scooting closer so that your faces are only inches apart.
"I do," you nod. "Can I?" You ask in a hopeful whisper.
"Honey," He laughs, leaning in ever more. "I thought you'd never ask." He then takes your face in his hands, his lips slotting between yours in what he's convinced is the best kiss of his life with fireworks exploding between the two of you.
You pull away too soon for his liking with a grin on your face that only makes him want to kiss you again so he does. The two of you stay like the rest of the night, not even bothering to turn on the movie because you're so caught up in each other. As he's got you lying against the couch, Steve's convinced that he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n
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The Ancient Language and True Names: Some Musings
So as a preface, let’s first recount some of the rules of the Ancient Language we’re told/shown through the books (spoilers through Inheritance):
One cannot lie in the Ancient Language
This doesn’t mean you cannot say something objectively untrue—so long as you believe it is true, you can say it (see: Murtagh tells Eragon at the end of Eldest that they are both sons of Morzan, which Murtagh can do because he doesn’t know about Selena having an affair with Brom)
Magic, however, is a bit trickier—intent can go a long way, but a grammatical or syntactical error can obliterate your intention (see: Eragon tries to bless a child, uses the noun form of “shield” instead of the verb form, accidentally curses the child)
So what am I getting at? Well!
In Inheritance, Eragon and Saphira follow a riddle-prophecy to Doru Araeba, the magic-nuked seat of power of the previous incarnation of the Order of Dragon Riders, and find their way into the magically-hidden fallout shelter with a forgetting spell on it that holds several Eldunarya and dragon eggs protected from the magic nuke blast and hidden from Galbatorix’s reach.
Or, put another way:
Saphira Bjartskular, the first new dragon in a century, the only living female out of five living-or-soon-to-hatch dragons (the others being Glaedr, Shruikan, Thorn, and Fírnen), literally the LAST CHANCE for the existence of HER ENTIRE SPECIES… finds out that she isn’t, actually, the last chance. That dozens, a few hundreds of eggs survived, and statistically at least a few of them have to be more females, and dragons will be fewer than before, certainly, and it will be centuries before they reach their previous numbers, but they won’t be doomed to a drawn-out spiral of inbreeding and decline and eventual, final, end.
And then she forgets.
Temporarily! But the memory is removed, excised for her protection and the protection of that precious maybe-future. Saphira’s view of the world, of herself, of her very place in the world, is completely overthrown… and then she returns to what had been the status quo (admittedly with the souls of several other dragons—but functionally this is just Glaedr, multiplied).
The question I pose is: what happened to Saphira’s true name?
On a broader, more generalized scale, the question really is this: what happens to a true name when the memory of a major name-changing event is altered somehow—either by removing the memory of an event that happened, or implanting a false memory of an event that did not happen, or changing the elements of that memory? What rule of the Ancient Language applies here—belief, or The Words Themselves? Is a true name built on memory? On how life experience physically shapes the brain?
Does Saphira wonder at the giddiness in her chest when she thinks of the Eldunarya, quietly thinking that the instinctive chemical reaction is an overenthusiastic response to ghosts that can advise, but never repopulate?
Would Galbatorix, if the battle had gone differently, have been intrigued by the curious lack of I am the last in Saphira’s true name?
Or would he have seen exactly what he expected to? I am the last—and hope is lost.
#inheritance cycle#saph speaks#inheritance cycle meta#i do keep arguing myself in circles on this so im genuinely curious about y’all’s thoughts#no one ever let me be a mage in alagaësia i would do SO many fucked up magic experiments#(<- lies i would totally get consent for my fucked up magic experiments. at first. probably.)#another element i didn’t address but was also thinking about irt this: in murtagh we learn that names can undergo#really minor changes and frequent fluctuations#bc like. ppl change in little ways on a day-to-day basis it is not ALL major groundbreaking name changing events#you and i are not the same people we were a year ago or yesterday or an hour ago or a minute ago etc etc#so i’d be curious how that fits in as well. say a long time after the memory alteration of that major name changing event it’s set to rights#does it change your name again? in the same way? in a different way?#have the elves already done experiments on this i feel like this is something the elves would experiment with
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soft universe - Eris Vanserra x Princess!Reader Chapter Three
< chapter two | chapter three | chapter four >
3.004k words
warnings: drama, smitten!eris again, mating bonds
thank you thank you thank YOU for all of the love this has received, the comments, reblogs, and likes <333 i love you guys as much as lucien loves his hair
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Story preview: Y/N Erling - youngest descendent to the King of Vallahan, not special, youngest of seven girls and four boys, and certainly not next in line to the throne. A kind soul, free-natured, always does what's asked. Content with spending the rest of her fae life taking care of her nieces and nephews while her elder siblings dealt with court dealings. That was until they drew up an agreement - her hand in exchange for their agreement to the treaty with Prythian. Enter Eris Vanserra - new high lord who did not want a wife, nor a mate. Can they work it out together - under pressure from a blood rite, a language barrier, a culture barrier, and Eris' unfortunate attempts at flirting.
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chapter three - the seed
Third POV
Eris Vanserra the entire next day spent his free time with his dagger and a thick piece of wood. Even during meetings, he would take the two items out – nicking his fingers only a few times, yet continued with what he was doing. Anytime someone questioned what he was doing, he either ignored the question or changed the subject. However, after half a day it finally began to take shape and he couldn’t hide it from prying eyes all day – he had to finish after all.
“Is that a flower?” His eldest and most trusted brother, Garreth, questioned. “Is it for your betrothed?”
“Shut up.” Eris responded, working on a petal of it, using his flames to catch the end of it on fire before putting it out – giving it a tinted colour. “Yes.”
“I never knew you were a romantic, dear brother.” His other brother, Marcus, spoke that time – nodding in approval. “If you use the dull side of the knife, you can add details to it.”
“I didn’t ask for your advice, you two.” As he spoke, he took his brothers advice anyway, adding small details to the stem.
“No, because knowing how stubborn you are you’d refuse to ask, even if you needed it desperately.”
“Sometimes I really hate you two.”
“Love you too, brother.” Marcus stood, leaving the room to attend to duties he had most likely, leaving the other two siblings.
“When do you see her again?” Garreth wondered, admiring his brother's newfound hobby.
“Tomorrow, after the meeting. I’m taking her for a walk through the forest, here.”
“Seeing her again so soon? Smitten are we, brother?” Eris didn’t respond right away, and his brothers teasing smile widened. “It’s about time, you deserve to be happy.”
“Agree to disagree.” Was his only response, as he stood up, “We have a meeting with some new advisors in a bit. We’d better get going.”
He left before his brother could say anything more. He let out a sigh,
“Stubborn lovestruck fool.”
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“He what?!” Nesta dropped the book she was holding onto, letting it fall to her lap – page forgotten.
“Did you not hear me?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, getting used to Prythian sayings still.
“No, no I heard you; it just startled me – I didn’t expect it.” Nesta picked her book back up, cursing as she looked for her page, sticking her bookmark in randomly. “When did you-?”
“I was looking out Nyx’s window, overlooking the river, and a figure caught my attention – he appeared out of nowhere before standing in front of the door. He stood for a while I feared he was a criminal.” Y/N laughed a bit, “But then I thought, what criminal shows up in the light? Until Cassian took him inside. Then it clicked when I saw his face turn.”
“Do you think it clicked for him too?”
“I don’t know. He was quiet.”
“That’s out of character for him, actually.” Nesta sipped her tea, settling her book down just as Morrigan strolled in.
“What’re we talking about?” She plopped onto the couch beside Y/N, tucking her feet underneath her. “Boys?”
“Ah, yes!”
“Eris is Y/N’s mate.” Nesta spoke the same time as Y/N, blunt in stating the facts.
“WHAT?” Morrigan sat up straight, her feet falling to the floor, “Since when?!”
“Two days ago.” Y/N answered this time, fidgeting with the edge of her shirt – it was a pale green, a sharp contrast to her dark pants curtesy of Morrigan. She had been supplying Y/N with clothing more common in Prythian, rather than just dresses in Vallahan. “I just spoke it, I’m nervous today.”
“To spend time with him today?”
“Yes. I gift him two carvings last time.”
“I’m sure he likes them, is that what you’re worried about?”
“I don’t know, a feeling.” The girls’ conversation was cut short, a knock happening at the door. “Ah, him?”
Nesta opened the door, settling aside as it was indeed the Autumn high lord. He was dressed casually, a stark difference to his usual attire. A white buttoned shirt with green trousers.
“Good morning,” Eris greeted the room, which was coincidentally full of women he feared. He spoke next just to Y/N. “Are you ready, then?”
“Yes,” She nodded, walking towards him, following him outside the door to go past the townhouse’s wards.
“Ah, don’t be out too late, children!” A voice shouted from the second-floor window,
“Fuck off, Cassian!” Was Eris’ reply before he turned his back to the window, holding out a hand. “Have you winnowed before?”
“Yes, from Vallahan with Morrigan. It is a funny feeling.” Y/N confirmed, taking his large warm hand in her own, ignoring the feeling of electricity going up her arm raising the hair in its wake.
“Oh before we go,” Eris let go to dig in his pocket, producing a beautifully carved wooden lily, “I wanted to follow your custom, to the best of my ability – I’m afraid I don’t know how to carve stone.”
“How did you colour it?” Y/N wondered aloud, inspecting its darkened petals, and even darker stem. It wasn’t paint, or charcoal.
“I carefully burned it,” He demonstrated by holding up his hand, which produced light blue flames, which faded into orange ones, before flickering out. “The hotter the flame the darker the colour, it just takes control to be able to not disintegrate the entire thing... Do you like it?”
“I love it,” Her smile was so wide it looked as if her cheeks hurt, she carefully put it into her pocket on her breast, patting it for safe keeping. “I can’t wait to display on my bed table. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” He stuck his hand out again, as she grasped it – finally winnowing to the middle of the forest, a path he often took his hounds on. “Morrigan said you enjoyed flowers, there are a bunch a bit up the trail.”
Eris took in Y/N, who was taking in the scenery around her. She just now looked up, from bending over at the knees after winnowing. Her face lit up; she twirled slowly looking at everything around her. The different types of trees and leaves, at their many colours, even to the different insects buzzing around.
“What are that?” Y/N wondered aloud, bending down to look at a tiny thing at the base of a tree, nearly covered by the foliage. She carefully poked at it – recoiling at the texture. Eris held in a small laugh,
“That’s a mushroom,” He pulled one out of the ground, and showed her the underneath – which had her touching it, feeling the odd textures. “Do they not have mushrooms where you hail?”
“On plates for eating, not like this.” She turned her head, instead inspecting something on a fallen tree trunk, “What this?”
“That would be an ant,” He watched her in wonder, what else did she not know of? “Do they have any forests where you’re from?”
“No,” She started walking, he sped to catch up to her, “We only have mountains, so high up that not many things grow. I saw grass for the first time when I came here. It feels nice.”
Eris wasn’t sure what to say to that, in truth he felt a little pity – she never climbed trees as a child? She never ran barefoot through a meadow, chased by her siblings as they played a game? Too lost in thought he hadn’t realized she disappeared.
“Y/N?” He spoke, a bit alarmed at where she could have gone and thought the worst. His resolve relaxed when he heard a giggle from above and looked up – she was in the tree. Hanging upside down, her hair hanging below her. “What by the mother are you doing?”
“Hanging around,” She smiled, as he came closer, “It like climbing rocks at home.”
“Be careful, I don’t need you dying on our first date, please.” Eris joked, as she dismounted with ease, landing on her feet – when did she take her shoes off?
“I won’t,” Y/N confirmed, running off to look at something else new, and the more Eris thought she reminded him of his hounds, always so curious to look at something new. “Eris?”
He could get used to hearing his name on her lips.
“Yes?” As he approached, she turned around, and he was appalled. “Where in Prythian did you get that? How did you even pick it up?”
“It was in bushes, friendly like a cat.” In her hands, was an entire fox. It was currently sniffing her hair yet not being hostile.
“Are you a fox-whisperer?” Eris questioned, cautiously walking forward to take a look at it. It didn’t seem injured, rather relaxed if anything. He reached out to lightly pet it, and it didn’t bite him.
“Animals like me,” Y/N smiled, giving it a hug before releasing it back into its bush, waving goodbye.
“Whatever you say, mother-fox.” He held up his hands, watching once more as Y/N returned to the trail before wandering off to the side to look at something, a comfortable silence taking over before the light ahead got closer – the meadow.
“Ah,” Y/N ran forward, hitting the meadow at full speed – her calves being tickled by the wildflowers and tall grass, “It feels funny!”
Eris sat on a raised rock, where he often sat when he needed alone time, enjoying watching Y/N run circles around him, almost dancing in the meadow. When she spotted a new flower she stopped abruptly, bending to look at it, sniffing it, and moving on. It must have been about ten minutes before she finally collapsed beside him, lying flat on her back out of breath.
“Have fun?”
“Yes. Though, it remind me of a word I do not know in your tongue.” She sat up, leaning on her elbows.
“Try to describe it, maybe I know it?”
“I can’t, it’s too...” She seemed to have gotten an idea, she pointed to the bottom of her foot, “Here.”
Eris stayed silent, unknowing what she could mean, until she grasped his foot that was on the rock, crossed on his knee. She began untying his boot, pulling it off with force that almost knocked her over, and then pulled his sock off,
“What by the mother are you doing?”
“Trust!” Was all she said, before pushing his foot off, and as it touched the grass and wildflowers though, he pulled it back up, holding in a laugh – his knee jerk reaction being what she pointed at, “That!”
“My reaction?” She nodded, “It tickled, are you ticklish?”
“Ah! Tick-Lish!” Y/N confirmed, “The meadow is tick-lish.”
“There’s a new word for you, today.” Eris smirked as he pulled his sock and shoe back on, not choosing to go barefoot like she had.
“Well technically my word of day was ‘radish’, but I like tick-lish better.” Eris’ nose scrunched,
“Why radish?”
“I bit into it thinking it was baby apple, not apple. I did not like.”
“I don’t blame you, I don’t either.”
“Tell me more, about you.” Y/N spoke, sitting cross legged across from him, he copied how she was sitting to look at her fully. “What colour do you like?”
“My favourite colour?” He confirmed, she nodded, “I like green. A deep green – almost like moss. What about you? What’s yours?”
“I like... (You can insert your own favourite colour, and what it reminds you of : ) mines light green, like a diluted sage green.)” She thought for a moment, “Do you have siblings?”
“I do; I had six brothers.”
“No sisters? Your poor mother!” Eris laughed at that, his mother had said the exact thing to herself at one point, “I have you beat, though.”
“By the cauldron, how many siblings do you have?”
“Ten,” His eyes widened,
“Your poor mother,” Y/N laughed at that, “Are there any twins or triplets?”
“Ah, three sets of twins. Do you?”
“None, just single babies. I know you’re the youngest, too. I’m the oldest.”
“We are the opposites!”
“We are, though I hear we did the same thing, take care of babies.” Y/N smiled at this,
“Ah, I love babies, they are so cute! Like... Well, I can’t think of anything really cute right now, but it would be really cute!”
“They are, aren’t they?” Eris smiled, thinking of baby Lucien, the last baby he had taken care of. “Want to hear a secret?”
Y/N nodded frantically, scooching closer as if they weren’t alone in the clearing,
“The last baby I took care of, my youngest brother Lucien,”
“Ah! Eyeball!”
“Yes, him, you know how the autumn court is known for its fire powers, yes?”
“Yes, orange leaves like fire, is how I remember.”
“Indeed. Lucien, when he first laughed – let out a glow of light, so bright as if he swallowed faelight. I couldn’t explain it, neither could the one maid I had asked, worried I had messed him up,”
“What was it?”
“Well, come to find out, dearest Lucien and I have different fathers. My mother, had met her mate, and had conceived Lucien as a result.”
“Who is her mate?”
“Oh, no one, just... The High Lord of Day.” The way Y/N’s eyes widened looked painful, as she clasped her mouth with her hands, “That reaction was how I felt when I found out, trust me. My poor mother had to explain it to a fifteen-year-old me, mortified.”
“The lady of autumn... Married to high lord of autumn, but mated to the high lord of day! What happened? Where is she now?”
“Oh, she lives in day with him now, she is now high lady of day. She never really loved my father; their arrangement was purely political. She wasn’t too torn up when he died. Delighted, actually.”
“I would be sad,” Eris looked up, meeting Y/N’s eyes, wide. “If you died, I mean.”
“Oh, I hadn’t meant to bring up... You know. Our political arrangement, not in that light anyway, I really don’t want it in that light anyway – I don’t want to be my father, nor you my mother-” His rambling got cut short, a delicate hand grasping his own,
“I know, Eris.” Y/N smiled encouragingly, “I met your father, once. I was young, apparently, I didn’t like him.”
“When was this?” Eris questioned, completely unaware that this had taken place,
“I was a babe, he made the trip to secure us with Hybern, my older sister, Vidia, told me that at one point he came to say hello to me and my siblings, to show his good-ness to my parents.” She laughed hard at remembering, “Apparently, when he held me, I had not only spit up all over him but also blew-out my diaper. It had gone everywhere, and the more he moved, the more it got worse-”
She couldn’t talk anymore, full on cackling at this point – and Eris had joined her, delighted at the idea of his father covered in not only vomit, but also shit. Literally. When their laughter died down, Eris grasped her hand back, a genuine smile on his face.
“Oh, I think the mother had known what she had done, putting us together.” Y/N looked up from their hands, quickly to his face,
“Put us together?” He paled,
“Oh, I didn’t- shit.” He pulled his hand away, “Cauldron, I had a whole speech planned to tell you, and a picnic, and I wanted to wait awhile until I sprung that on you, but I was too caught up in the moment-”
He was interrupted by Y/N launching herself into him, nearly knocking him off of the rock, securing her hands around his shoulders,
“I knew you felt it too! Though I do like picnics, if that is an option, still.”
“I- you knew too? When?” Eris was at a loss for words,
“I saw you outside Nyx’s window, you were stood at the door – for a while.”
“You saw that!? That’s humiliating! I was so scared to meet you!” Eris groaned, rubbing his hand down his face, as Y/N laughed a bit.
“When did you know?”
“When I saw you singing to Nyx, it was lovely. I was completely entranced by your singing. You’re so caring to Nyx, too.”
“Oh, that is better than standing at a doorway for ten minutes.” Eris groaned again, “Kidding!”
“You aren’t upset? About the bond?”
“Ah, no. I grew up hearing stories of it, how wonderful it is. Even now, with everyone at home with a mate. It is beautiful. What about you? You are high lord; you have a lot to do right now...”
“I am, and I’m ecstatic. Ah, that means very happy. I do have a lot right now, and it might take a while for me to fully be able to devote my time to you, but in the meantime... I’m more than happy to spend my free time with you, my free days wherever you want, here or there.”
“We can go slow; we have all the time.” Y/N concluded, as Eris agreed, pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand,
“Though, we shouldn’t announce it yet, to anyone other than who needs to know. I have a lot of enemies at the moment, especially in autumn. I do not wish for them to harm you.”
“I might have told Nesta. And Morrigan.”
“That’s fine, I trust them. They’re good at holding secrets. Plus, I told my brothers last night, they practically pestered me until I told them what I was hiding.”
“Okay, then only Nesta, Morrigan and your brothers?”
“Works for me,” Eris nodded, standing, “It’s been three hours, I should probably get you home, before they come to strangle me. Nesta scares me.”
“Ah, good idea. I promised to put Nyx down for his afternoon nap.”
“I’ll see you next week? For our next afternoon together? Same time?”
“Yes,” Y/N smiled, and Eris smiled back.
Both of them excited for what the future holds, for the first time in forever.
-----
taglist: @sparksandstarss @iambored24601 @itsxchar6 @bxm-2121 @an-introverted-nishinoyasimp @perriii @myfatbottomedgirls @carnationworld @talesofadragon @ashjade19
lmk if you wanna be tagged! :)
#acotar#eris vanserra#eris vanserra x reader#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader smut#eris acotar#a court of frost and starlight#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#eris x reader fluff#the autumn court
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What are your favorite Giles moments? What is a 'missing scene' or something you'd like to have seen Giles do or say and didn't?
I think my favorite Giles moments are the obvious ones, really.
His reaction to Buffy coming back to Sunnydale in Dead Man's Party: not just the fact he's the only person not to give her a hard time about being gone but because he's so obviously happy that she's returned but tries to hide that delight from her. He understands her in a way her friends and her mother can't -- he too struggled with his supernatural calling when he was young, and tried running away from it, after all -- but he thinks his affection for her is something to be ashamed of.
His speech to her in Innocence ("if it's guilt you're looking for [...] I'm not your man. All you will get from me is my support and my respect"). Not only is this a nice moment in itself (albeit one later undercut a little by the events of Helpless), it also -- together with Joyce looking at Buffy and telling her that "you look the same to me" in the very next scene -- strongly suggests that people who read Season 2 as the show somehow punishing Buffy for the "mistake" of sleeping with Angel have chosen a reading that the show is actively rejecting. Angel losing his soul is a metaphor for something that really happens -- you sleep with somebody and then they seem to become somebody a lot less pleasant -- but it's not the show's position that any of this is Buffy's fault.
His various moments sticking up for Buffy when she's not around to see it. Threatening Snyder in Dead Man's Party, of course ("would you like me to convince you?"), as well as more gently defending her earlier in the show, but also lots of his interactions with Wesley or other Watchers are also fun ("If you want to criticize my methods, fine. But you can keep your snide remarks to yourself. And while you're at it, don't criticize my methods").
Giles is pretty funny, actually; I think he gets some pretty good lines throughout the show. For example I like the scene in Intervention when he and Buffy are out in the desert for a ritual, she points out they don't have any food or water with them and wonders if the guide he's summoning for her will also "a week later" lead him to her "bleached bones", and he insists that won't happen: "it takes more than a week to bleach bones". Or his speech to the gang in I Only Have Eyes For You ("I appreciate your thoughts on the matter. In fact, well, I encourage you to always challenge me when you feel it's appropriate. You should never be cowed by authority. ... Except, of course, in this instance, when I am clearly right and you are clearly wrong.")
I don't really like fandom attempts to cast Giles as the Scooby Gang's unproblematic Team Dad, but I do like the very different ways Giles interacts with Buffy's friends, from his gentle support of Willow in the early seasons to his frequent irritation with Xander ("Am I right Giles?" "Almost certainly not, but to be fair I wasn't listening." or "Xander, don't speak Latin in front of the books"). I like the fact that Dawn -- as the part of Buffy who gets to be a normal kid and not a Slayer -- quickly intuits that Giles doesn't really like her. I like the scene where Giles goes to kill Angelus in Passion and the scene in which he confronts Angel in Amends.
Oh, and of course "I believe the subtext here is rapidly becoming text", which I'm pretty sure I've quoted on this blog more than once.
Missing scene ... well, I've argued recently (and repeatedly) that we should have seen Giles trying to help Faith a bit more than we did if the show didn't want us to blame him for her changing sides, so let's go with something else. It would have been nice if we'd had a scene where Giles tried to get Buffy to talk about Kendra's death, I think (I mean in the same way he's able to get her to open up about how it felt to have to send Angel to hell). He wouldn't have to be successful -- you could contrast this with his own reluctance to talk about Jenny, even -- but it would make it much, much easier to read Buffy's ongoing silence about Kendra as a deliberate character choice, rather than -- as I strongly suspect it was -- the writers just never caring about Kendra at all and assuming the audience didn't either.
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Okay, so... Since you're practically the saviour of Cecil fans, could I request a cecil x reader where reader is being reckless and Cecil is frustrated because he's worried?
Of course, feel free not to, I love your work anyways! Thank you for sharing your work, have a wonderful week ❤️
psshhh daw shucks, me? Savior of the Cecil fans? How kind <3
as always, fic under the cut!
You’re a b tier superhero, good for saving major cities from minor threats, you do a great job of keeping annual bank robberies down
buutttt you’re not exactly the first person they call when there’s an alien invasion
Your partner, Cecil Stedman, knows this
What he doesn’t know is that you’re best friends with Black Samson, and have convinced him to let you know when the Guardians go on a mission
This is how you end up crashing a fight between the Guardians and some vague nondescript alien invaders
Your flying is all the best yet, and you come tumbling and crashing through the swarms of large grey aliens
rolling like a bowling ball knocking them down until you land in the middle of their troops
gulp. uh oh.
meanwhile, Cecil is screaming at you over your earpiece
you assume, at least, you turned it off a while ago, knowing he wouldn’t want you on this mission
but you can HELP the guardians, shouldn’t you?
speaking of, Monster Girl fights her way through the aliens to scoop you up under her giant green arm, before returning to the rest of the team
”Cecil’s mad, Y/n, like- ow my head hurts from the yelling bad!” She’s not mad at you, but you can imagine the toll having Cecil in your head takes, especially while fighting for your life
”It’s okay, Monster Girl! I’m here to help!” You grinned, giving her a sturdy thumbs up and wriggling free of her grasp
She Narrows her eyes incredulously
“Yeahhh I dunno about that..”
But you’re already gone, throwing yourself back into the fight- and to your credit- you get down a good twenty aliens or so before being overtaken
once again, and I can’t stress enough how funny this is in retrospect, hahaha isn’t it funny Cecil- Cecil please laugh I promise it’s funny in retrospect- but you have to get rescued again, this time by Rex Splode
hes not having your shit
”Y/n I swear to fucking GOD- you’re putting us all in danger, go. The FUCK. Home!”
swallowing your pride, you turn back on your ear piece and fly off, getting lectured the entire time
“what the hell were you thinking?! Cecil pinches his temple, pacing back and forth
“I’m not a child, Cecil, I don’t need you to scold me for doing my job.”
”You job-“ he sighs, pausing to collect himself “Y/n your job is to go where I tell you and fight what I tell you. Not interrupt guardian business and almost get KILLED.”
If you didn’t feel scolded before, shrinking in your seat, you certainly do now
”I’m sorryy, but I know I can be more useful-“
”You’re useful as long as you’re alive.” He bites back, folding his arms and giving you that unimpressed glare reserved for when teenagers misbehave. But you’re in your thirties
man you fucked up.
You slink into your chair a little more
“ugh…” he continues to pace, processing everything over the last few hours
you stand up, walking over to him and placing an open hand on his shoulder
”Cecil… I’m sorry” your voice is soft and shaky, eyebrows knitted up and eyes glassy with forming tears
he Looks at you, oh he can’t stay mad at you
not when he’s doing this just to keep you safe
He lets out a deep, frustrated groan, before opening a single arm and pulling you to his chest by the back of the neck
“😒”
Its okay though because he cares about you
”Y/n, promise me you’re going to stop doing stupid stuff like that. I give you the toughest missions I know you can handle. But-“ he sighs “If you want to get reassessed, I’ll tell Donald to get the stuff ready.”
your eyes shine, and you smile up at him “Id like that a lot”
a beat of silence between you two
”I’m sorry for scaring you today, Cecil.”
He pulls you a little closer, just enough to kiss the top of your head
”Yeah yeah, don’t do it again. You gave me and half the analysis department a god damned heart attack.”
under his nagging and frustrations an undercurrent of care, its audible in his tone
You Pull him back for a real kiss, resting your foreheads together after pulling away “I’ll be safer from now on.”
the moment passes, and you grab his hand “Now come on I wanna see how much stronger I am since the last time we did this!” and off you go, to get reassessed
#invincible show#invincible season 3#invincible#invincible fanfic#invincible spoilers#invincible x reader#cecil x reader#invincible cecil#cecil stedman
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hiiii, it’s me again 😅💙 i hope your week is off to a good start lovely !!💗🫂 i have yet another random question, that i hope is fun :) it might be a little confusing, but here it is;
which versions of your jensen characters do you think would get along the most, and which ones do you think wouldn’t get along at all?
like for example, i’d like to think smoke eater-dean and take me home-beau would get along :)
meanwhile i’m not so sure break me down-ben would get along with against the wind-dean 🤔 (all the alpha macho man stuff maybe, one of them being a literal alpha loll)
if this is too strange or confusing please feel free to ignore lmao <3 have a wonderful rest of your day !!💕💕
Hey lovely, how are you? 💕 My week is off to a much better start than my weekend lol. And yay!! Omg I love your Qs. You always come up with good ones, and this one was no exception. 😉
Which versions of your Jensen characters do you think would get along the most, and which ones do you think wouldn’t get along at all?
Oh, interesting. 🤔 I'm going to separate my answers like this:
Cowboys & Law Enforcement:
I think you're so right -- Dean Winchester from Smoke Eater, my firefighter AU, would get along really well with Beau Arlen in Take Me Home. Even though Beau had a conflict with a firefighter in that story (the reader's asshole ex-fiance), he wouldn't hold it against all firefighters. 😜
Likewise, I think TMH Beau would also get along with Western/Cowboy Dean from The Honorable Choice and Outlander...for obvious reasons. Who doesn't wanna see a modern cowboy sheriff meet a true western cowboy? 🤠❤️
Soldier Boy:
He's his own category because...let's face it, he's prickly lmao.
Break Me Down version of Ben really only gets along with the reader (and his daughter) in that world. 😂 ...Well, maybe Frank and Loco too. But they're his subordinates, so it's a different dynamic.
However, Ben and Alpha Dean from Against the Wind would certainly butt heads, mostly because Ben is cocky as fuck and doesn't really care about making friends and being personable with people he thinks he's better than, unfortunately. The best the BMD reader can do is keep him civil with another "alpha" male, like Butcher or M.M. -- men he actually respects. 😅
BMD Ben might actually get along with Lost on You Ben, only because that version of SB has gone through a similar character growth. They would be able to find some common ground. And hell, BMD Ben would probably give LOY Ben some unsolicited parenting advice, especially where John is concerned. 😂
Also, I think Alec McDowell from Being Human would annoy the ever living shit out of BMD and LOY Ben the most lmfao. Alec's probably the only one who can match Ben's cockiness, considering he's a super soldier himself. How young and sarcastic and smart he is would just make him doubly grating for SB. 🤣💚
Total Bros:
As for who would get along the best...
I think Midnight Espresso Dean would get along the best with Russell Shaw from Every Second Counts. ME version of Dean is essentially "normal Dean" in his 40s with a Latina girlfriend.
Russell is around his same age, has done some shady shit, has "seen some stuff that would blow your hair back," drives a Chevy Malibu comparable to Dean's Chevy Impala, LOVES food and beer -- oh yeah, these guys would hang. 😂💜
#ask me stuff#lovely mutuals#jackles#jensen ackles#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#spn#supernatural#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester x ofc#dean winchester x oc#beau arlen#beau arlen x reader#big sky#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#the boys#soldier boy fanfiction#russell shaw#tracker#russell shaw x reader#alec mcdowell#alec mcdowell x reader#dark angel#soldier boy x you#dean winchester x you#dean winchester imagine#zepskies answers
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Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery
Anne of the Island, Chapter Six!
Getting so very close to being finally caught up. 🫡 I’m still in the book clubs dust, but if I squint, I think I can almost see you guys! Apologies to anyone that might see this, that might’ve already previously (and punctually!) shared a sentiment that I spent any amount of time reinforcing in my own posts. I haven’t skimmed the book club’s tag so far, just because I have this brain impediment where if I see someone else has already mentioned something I think, “...oh excellent! Now I needn’t bother!”, only, that everyone is so thorough that if I did go ahead and look at them, and saw everyone’s thoughts, I’m sure I’d find I had nothing left to speak on. A serial liking of all book club posts, coming soon to a notif near you, honestly.
Some weensy Phil bullets: mostly that well, I persist in representing Team Alec (only until a certain long-legged Minister appears, of course), because here is a fellow who would at least find the mix-up of Phil’s letter postscripts “funny.” This puts him eons and miles and worlds ahead of Alonzo imo... a sense of humour is so necessary!
Speaking of Redmond football, an insignificant matter that is once again very much nonsense and not particularly worthy of spending any large amount of much time reflecting on, yet remains a great area of interest for me personally... guys, what do we reckon the Redmond Football mascot was? Team name? I know there’s future canon abbreviation of Redmond students as “Reds,” but a colour is hardly a sufficient team name, nor do I really think it’s meant to be taken as such, and listen, no one even think of mentioning the stinking Cleaveland Browns football team to me, lmao.
“That Gilbert of yours.” + “outraged Anne” AIR KISS to these lines specifically.
“But Sloane was blissfully ignorant; he thought he was quite a fine fellow to be walking with two such coeds, especially Philippa Gordon, the class beauty and belle. It must surely impress Anne. She would see that some people appreciated him at his real value.” Oh, Charlie. I constantly waffle between feeling pity for Charlie, the butt of many-a-joke, and then also feeling that wellllllll his ego is a little bit exaggerated perhaps - although I suppose we get a clearer sense of that later on. Since all of Avonlea knows that Gilbert’s dead-gone on Anne, to the point of pubic heckling in a Charlottetown newspaper, we must recognise that in Charlie’s mind, he’s in active competition with Gilbert, who has certainly loved Anne the longer. Not an ounce of discernable bro-code anywhere.
Gilbert quoting some Bret Harte verses to Anne. This boy might not have a propensity for writing original poetry, but his memorisation and ability to drop a line or two so easily? He’s got a romantic soul, for sure. In a lot of ways, between him and Anne, it’s actually Gilbert that’s the romantic one (also see: keeping the rose that fell from her hair, back at the White Sands recital), and Anne the steady practical.
“Gilbert, who could not connect the idea of sorrow with the vivid, joyous creature beside him, unwitting that those who can soar to the highest heights can also plunge to the deepest depths, and that the natures which enjoy most keenly are those which also suffer most sharply.” This is heavy. But more than anything, something I very much enjoy about Maud’s work is her ability to maintain core characterisation. I see this line, and I also think of how much it (later) casts light onto Gilbert’s struggle to really relate to some of Walter’s Anneishness. There’s a wonderful yin and yang balance between the slinky black cats and golden retrievers of the world, and often enough they are deeply attracted to each other, but there are some differences that can never been fully reconciled.
The matter of Spofford Avenue! Again the scholars have already done a ton of the legwork, and lots of preliminary digging into Maud’s journals, picking out real-life links between between her time in Halifax and how it corresponds to Anne’s… and they’ve decided, very logically, that Spofford Avenue was based on Young Avenue.
At the time, Halifax was one of the richest cities in Canada and building on Young Avenue, definitely reserved for prominent families and the wealthiest, apparently came with enough beautification restrictions to satisfy even the choosiest A.V.I.S. member, only of a few of which I can easily remember… that power poles were banned on the basis of being “unsightly,” for starters. I know there’s a whole essay dedicated to the ‘real’ Kingsport somewhere, and if I can find it instead of just my jumbled notes & misc. folder on it, I’ll be sure to share it in case anyone’s interested. 🧐 I also recall that a very real tobacco king called Alexander Hobrecker (‘Hobrecker House’) did indeed make residence on Young Avenue, though whether or not he really had an affinity for well-made country quilts, is anyone’s guess.
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Having S3 Knockout/Starscream thoughts because auuuuu they’re so doomeeeeed.
Like, you’ve got Knockout, who needs his aftercare, (and like, yeah, everyone does, but Knockout is especially dependent on it, plus he’s used to Breakdown who was the aftercare master, and ofc those two facts both amplify eachother), and Starscream, who is almost certainly going to insist on domming because by Primus he is not ready to be vulnerable, and is probably gonna be giving no aftercare after because
A: He’s never really received it himself that often if at all,
B: Receiving it itself requires that level of emotional vulnerability that low key terrifies him,
C: Given that aftercare is generally a foreign concept to him, his preference of what he prefers his doms to do once they’re done is to just leave so he has space to dissociate (why is this man so tragic), he probably on some level figures that’s probably also what Knockout wants him to do, so he thinks he’s doing him a favor,
and D: He probably still needs to go dissociate himself, which he didn’t expect would still happen even though he wasn’t subbing, the deeply traumatized fuck he is.
And given that they’re both catty bitches it’s not like they’re gonna talk about this afterwards and try and work through these problems, Knockout is probably gonna just say “yeah, this was a mistake, let’s not do that again” the next day and internally Starscream will be like oh thank Primus because he was just not ready for all that.
And the thing about them is that under non-toxic circumstances while they’d still probably be friends, they would under most circumstances probably never fuck, because they’re really not sexually compatible. They’re just not eachothers types, they both are mostly into big hunky mechs and the only reason they, being a pair of twinks, fucked is because at that point in time they were eachothers only non-actively-hostile relationships, and they were both desperate for the idealized version of a (for lack of a better term) human connection that they both were deeply craving but not ready to deal with the real, messy, complicated version of.
As decent as the sex itself might have been, the overall experience was deeply unsatisfying for both of them, so in the end this whole situationship gets filed away as an unfulfilling rebound fling, so it's really no wonder that when push came to shove the prospect of aimlessly roaming the galaxy with this guy didn't really appeal to Knockout.
and it's just this deeply tragic situation where while someone (Optimus, it's Optimus) could have "fixed" (read: assisted in the healing process of) Starscream, Knockout was under no obligation to be that person, even if it meant the end of Starscream's story was him getting tossed around by dragons. It's just so unfortunate.
anyways, just so this post isn't a complete downer, I do see a few circumstances where things could have worked out between them, I could see Starscream getting thrown into KO/BD working out well, maybe in some universe where Starscream succeeded in killing Megatron in S1 and ended up leader of the Decepticons with Knockout as his 2IC. Not only because Breakdown is just the absolute sweetest and as stated before, the master of aftercare, but also because Knockout still having his stability in Breakdown and not being high key depressed would probably make him more likely to want to take on a "pet project" in Starscream, so to speak. I also remember a while ago you made a post about a OP/KO/SS (sidenote, its so funny to me how the moment Knockout enters a ship the names just get reduced to letters) fic you wanted to write, I don't think I mentioned it at the time but I absolutely would read that if you made it.
So yeah, Knockout and Starscream aren't inherently doomed, but boy howdy did it turn out that way.
ohhhhhh man, these two are another guilty pleasure of mine, but yes. they are absolutely doomed with the way the narrative played out.
the way you said it pretty much sums it up. these two are searching for something in each other that neither of them will be able to find.
knock out needs someone to take care of him. he needs someone to really love him the way breakdown did. he needs someone who's willing to take care of him and make him feel like he's needed, even if he's not that open about it. it's why ratchet being grateful for him was one of the big tipping points which led him to join the autobots, the way i see it. whether or not he was into ratchet, that's up to you, but either way, he was needed.
and starscream needs to heal. this bot has been through so much, from leaving cybertron to losing his trine, and that's not even getting into all of the bullshit he's had to put up with concerning megatron. he doesn't have the strength to be emotionally vulnerable because he's afraid of the consequences of opening himself up. knock out can be a release for him, a way to just forget everything for a while, to not be himself.
so, these two, being each other's only stable relationship aboard the nemesis, sought what they needed in each other. of course this was never going to end up healthy. if they were just back on cybertron, away from the war, they probably would've been those catty best friends who are practically attached at the hip and love to judge everyone together. but in a sexual relationship? aboard the nemesis? in the middle of a war? this was doomed to fail.
it could work, though. i can see where you're coming from with ko/bd/ss, especially if megatron either stayed gone or straight up died. starscream wouldn't have to put up with megatron's shit anymore, and, since breakdown was still there, knock out and breakdown would be able to have that stability. this might leave knock out with a desire to bring starscream into their relationship, should the three of them be into that.
and i'm glad you brought up ko/op/ss or knockstarop, because it's an underrated idea and probably my ot3! the way i see them, optimus and knock out would probably get together first, but the both of them have expressed interest in starscream, so they invite him into their relationship and now they don't have to pick and choose between each other. more love to go around!
but yeah. as much as i enjoy ko/ss, they were probably never gonna turn out healthy with how canon went.
#i talk like they were ever established in canon lmao#idc i play with them like barbies#fuck man i need to write that knockstarop fic#someone's gotta pioneer this trio#might as well be me#transformers#starscream#knock out#optimus prime#breakdown#transformers prime#tfp starscream#tfp optimus prime#tfp knockout#tfp breakdown#kobd#ko/ss#ko/op/ss#knockstarop#maccadam#answering things
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fic_promptly - theme: food & drink
sniperspy - rated G - prompt: your true character comes out when you are drunk.
+++
The drunkest members of the team have all passed out in the corner. Spy stares at the messy recreation room, noting the number of empty beer and scrumpy bottles, and decides it would be a good lesson for everyone involved if he doesn’t do them the mercy of sending them to respawn. They all deserve hangovers. Every single one of them.
Heavy gives him a look that more or less agrees with the idea—even though Spy is sure that Heavy has put in his fair share of drink in himself. As for Spy, he doesn’t feel like dealing with the indigestion of mixing liquors or the ever present anxiety of letting secrets slip or, most importantly, acting like a drunken fool in front of his coworkers. Again. He’s only allowed himself to have that indulgence twice a year, and it’s not Halloween yet so he must wait until then.
Spy approaches the pile of sleeping bodies, limbs so entangled they all look like a slumbering eldritch monster reeking of alcohol. He sees Demoman in the middle, curled over Scout, who is draped over Sniper, who is buried halfway under Soldier. Pyro is there, one booted foot sticking out from beneath Demoman and a rubbery red arm sticking up from under Sniper’s shoulder in a disconcerting way that makes Spy momentarily unsure of human anatomy. It could be possible that Pyro is completely sober and just happened to join the nest of bodies. Spy hasn’t seen Pyro drink a single sip.
Nevertheless, Spy grabs the back of Sniper’s collar and starts pulling. No one so much as stirs. He heaves twice, straining until Sniper pops outs like a cork from one of the many wine bottles that had been opened tonight.
Heavy snorts, turning away to pack most of the leftovers in a way that Spy knows he shouldn’t point out.
Still, Spy doesn’t give Heavy the satisfaction of blustering out lame excuses. He has Sniper by the overly stretched shirt collar already, freed from the responsibility of singing Engineer’s guitar songs and dodging Medic’s attempts to steal his kidneys by dancing. Sitting Sniper up, Spy kneels beside him and pats his cheek repeatedly until he gets an annoyed grunt in response.
“Spy,” Sniper grumbles, swaying. “Leave me be.”
Spy wonders how Sniper could have known with his eyes closed.
“No. I am going to escort you back to your van, where you can be miserable in private when you wake up in the morning,” Spy says.
“Won’t make it. I’ll hurl halfway there. Over your three thousand dollar shoes.”
“You already did,” Spy says gravely. “Before you passed out.”
Sniper opens his eyes then, trying to look at Spy’s feet.
“Those are my boots,” he notes, very sharp, very intelligently.
“Yes. I stole them. You owe me three thousand dollars.”
“Sod it,” Sniper mumbles and attempts to lay back down.
“Yes, you certainly did. Were you not listening?” Spy takes Sniper’s face in his hands. He squeezes, gives a little shake that is meant to be highly annoying, and only has himself to blame when Sniper leans into his palms like they could very well be the only things keeping his head up.
“I’m listenin’” Sniper says, smiling slightly, and Spy has never heard Sniper tell such a blatant lie with how his glassy eyes stare right at him, uncomprehending, with no awareness of his surroundings.
“Ah. So now the problem is retaining,” Spy replies dryly.
He can safely guess Sniper is still quite drunk out of his mind when he nuzzles into Spy’s hands. Sniper shuffles closer, forgetting his desire to lay on the floor in favor of leaning into Spy.
Spy glances at Heavy, who seems to have developed a sudden intense interest in stacking food containers. He sighs, and his own breath shifts the strands of Sniper’s hair at the nape of his neck. Sniper lets out a pleased noise, burying his face under Spy’s jaw. Both his hands cling to the front of Spy’s jacket.
Spy rolls his eyes, considering the ceiling and his life choices, and slips his arms beneath Sniper’s. At the movement, Sniper looks up at him very happily, and Spy wonders what could possibly be going through Sniper’s head to make him smile like that before he simply tightens his arms around Sniper’s chest and hauls them both up to their feet.
It takes a second for Spy to situate Sniper in a mostly upright position, which involves slinging Sniper’s arm over his shoulders while he wraps his own around Sniper’s waist. In the meanwhile, Sniper lets himself be manipulated around—and that’s not a new concept for Spy, who mainly enjoys it for sport, but Sniper’s lack of resistance is worrying.
Sniper leans in, angling his head towards Spy’s mouth. Spy is about to turn away for the sake of what little discretion he’s trying to claw out of this situation, but Sniper stops short with a pout.
“My hat,” he says with a sad look.
It’s back on the ground. Spy could dump him here and now and give up, but Sniper starts mumbling apologies in his ear, swinging his free arm towards the hat in such a pathetic manner that it somehow convinces Spy to do the most impressive squat of his life so that Sniper can retrieve it.
As they stand back up, Sniper sets the hat on Spy’s head as a distraction and ends up sneaking in that kiss anyway.
And true to his word, Sniper does end up hurling halfway to the van.
#sniperspy#promptfic#tf2#bloody suit#fic_promptly#true character = pathetic man so down bad#it's been a trying couple of days and if i didnt write these two being sweet on each other immediately i was going to shrivel away
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@lordlexion
considering you wrote that you like obsessive/possessive Q and were wondering how this could go on
Q is already aware of Picards current position on spending eternity with him. After all, he did see his reactions when Q had told that they would 'spend a little time together'. But, Q is telling himself, this is only temporarily. After all Picard is a mortal and therefore more frightened by the concept of eternity itself than having Q for company during it all. And even if it really was the case, where Picard was... uncomfortable with the shere idea of being Qs.. companion (Picard is not entirely sure what Q would even want for him to be during all of that) than Q is just sure that his capitaine simply doesn't know how great it's going to be.
So, just imagine Datas comment not leaving Picards mind for a while. In contrast to Q, Picard ends up telling himself the complete opposite. But he finds it hard to fall asleep. ('A little time together? How much?' 'Eternity'). Q couldn't have been serious. He just couldn't.
When next Q arrives for a 'social call between friends', Picard asks him. Of course, thinking that Q was going to laugh at him for thinking he was serious. Laughing because the thought of Picard actually believing that Q would want to spend more than a week with him would be hilarious.
Q does not laugh.
The reaction is not what Picard had expected. Or wanted.
Not only was Q serious, but the entity before him seems, in his own way, rather excited about it. Having already made plans about all the places they were going to go. All the things Q wanted to show and all the things he could teach Picard once he got rid of that limiting mortal body of his.
"I don't want this, Q."
"Of course you don't want this, mon capitaine.
Not right now at least. So used to your own mortality, your ship and your rather unflattering assumptions about me. But you will see. Once you will be used to it. Used to just you and me and the Universe beneath our feet to do with as we please. You will wonder why you ever wanted to say no to it all in the first place."
Q had gotten increasingly closer during his tirade, so close that beforePicard could say anything to it all, the entity had given him a light kiss and disappeared in a flash.
No longer wondering what it was Q wanted him and them to be.
Data: Captain, I noticed that you were uncharacteristically calm as you reported about the entity known as Q threatening that you were going to spend eternity with him on two seperate occassions.
Picard: That is because I now realize that I won't have to worry about Q following through with it. After all, Q can't possibly be obsessed enough with me to actually want to spend that much time with me.
Right?
#but certainly wondering how he was going to get out of this#qcard#this turned out longer than I thought
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