August 22, 2022 | Troy starts college!

Written February 6, 2023. Backdated to August 22, when Troy would have started college. The institution is an original setting loosely based on the idea of UC Santa Cruz. Portrayal of Aemond loosely based on Lydia's modern mafia AU.

 Troy Lita was the kind of guy who went out of his way to include others. He'd skipped two grades and been in AP everything in high school. Even though he'd been friendly, athletic, and popular, being two years younger than his classmates had made him feel awkward. Despite his popularity, he'd felt as though he had to work harder than others to fit in.

It wasn't just his age that made him unusual. While he was a halfback on the football team, he was also in the celibacy club. He never even went on dates, both because his parents wouldn't allow it and because he wanted to stay focused on academics and athletics. He went to every school dance either stag or with a small group of friends.

In his last year of high school, he held parties at his parents' house on their date nights. Everyone was welcome, and he made a point to invite loners and wallflowers. He served fruit platters, meat and cheese platters, and veggie platters from the deli. He also ordered one of every pizza special from the place down the road, just in case. His dad and baba also saw fit to keep the cellar stocked with, among other things, nonalcoholic beer and wine, and stevia-sweetened soda. His dad had refused to have a pool installed for safety reasons, but that just meant there was plenty of room on the lawn to spread out blankets for picnics and dance.

Troy also made a point to kick everyone out in time to wash the bedding before his parents got home. He was inexperienced, but not stupid.

He could have gone to any college he'd wanted; he was an Ivy League legacy twice over, but he had chosen to go to a state school in a beach town so he could stay close to family. Of course, he was still a residential student; he had a sense of how sheltered he was and, even though he was 16 when he started his first semester, he felt he should have some measure of independence. Luckily, his parents agreed with him. He'd stay in a dorm, have a roommate and a debit card, and be free to make his own decisions... though of course, they still didn't want him dating. His biological father had turned 17 the day Troy was born, and Troy's mother had left shortly thereafter. Neither of his current parents wanted him to go through the stress of starting a family too early, nor the pain of it breaking up because he and his hypothetical partner were so young. Other than that, he knew nothing about his mother. They just didn't talk about her.

That would be an easy rule to keep. Troy had no interest in dating. He wanted to learn, play team sports, and make friends; that was all. He actually did pretty well at it. Although it felt awkward to stay silent when one of his professors casually said, "You're all adults," he knew it was best not to draw unnecessary attention to himself. Some peers he met were also on the younger side, and he could tell most of them felt equally awkward about it.

His first week of school, he met with a guidance counselor and took some preliminary tests. He was placed in sophomore-level English and math. He had taken some college-level credits during his senior year of high school, specifically for political science and world history, so he was eligible for sophomore-level classes in those subjects, too. His first semester, he chose sophomore-level English, political science, and world history; and freshman-level fine arts and football. When classes started, he made friends with most of his new classmates and some of their friends too.

In his first world history class, he noticed one of his classmates sitting all by himself on the left side of the room. Though he wore an eyepatch that covered his left eye, he sat several rows back, avoiding both the front row with the eager, talkative students, and the back row with the students who didn't care and talked about unrelated things during class. Troy would normally have sat front-row-center, but something drew him to the student who would become his first close friend at this new school. After politely asking if the seat next to him was taken, Troy sat down with a smile, pulled his long sandy-blond hair back in a low ponytail, and pulled out a Notebook. He powered it up, fiddled with accessibility settings to make the font and icons larger so he didn't have to hunch over to see his own writing, and proceeded to carefully take notes, annotated with his own opinions and insights. For the first time in his life, he didn't rush to answer questions or contribute to the discussion.

At the end of class, before his seatmate got up to leave, Troy asked if he wanted Troy to email him a copy of the notes. He seemed to hesitate before agreeing, but he did agree, and they exchanged names and email addresses. Troy nodded his chin at his new friend as he packed up and left.

They met again in political science and this time, Aemond was the one taking notes. He opened a Google Doc, invited Troy to contribute, and they spent the class dissecting the clearly partisan views of their teacher, who asked them not to call her Professor because it made her feel "old" and went on unrelated tangents about her personal life. Troy hoped none of that was going to be on the test, and he typed as much into the notes doc. Aemond rewarded him with a blink-and-you-miss-it smirk. Troy smiled back, but the timing was not in his favor; Miss Mai saw fit to angrily assume that of course a privileged young white man would laugh at the idea of separating church and state.

Troy stood, smoothing his light blue button-down over his purple jeans. "Actually, my dads and I agree with you that maintaining that separation is not only beneficial but necessary. Well, I say 'dads'. My biological father is actually gender-fluid and has worked in..." He paused. "I think the polite term is adult entertainment. And if the United States and, equally importantly, California see fit to uphold separation of church and state, he and my adoptive father might actually get married post-election cycle. I'm sorry, did you want to keep discussing my family's privilege or did you want to go back to talking about your own personal life?"

"Speaking of poor depth perception," Aemond said, speaking for the first time that class, "would you mind going back to the previous slide? I'm afraid my vision isn't what it used to be and I'd like some time to parse that diagram."

Troy covered his mouth to hide another smile as he sat back down. He had to take a moment to avoid looking at either Aemond or the laptop screen for fear he'd burst out laughing. Miss Mai, however, looked somewhat less than amused. Troy wondered if she was the type of person who would consider Aemond uppity because of his accent and elegant manner of speech. If she did, she was alone in that; a few girls were fanning themselves and whispering excitedly, casting glances in Aemond's direction. Aemond ignored them, pulling the hood of his black hoodie further over his head and focusing on the slide until it turned forward again, and then furiously typing notes into the Google doc.

After class, they walked to lunch together, comparing notes.

"I admit, I didn't expect much from the American college experience, but my family won't send me back across the pond for school," Aemond was saying.

Troy nodded. "Yeah, my parents warned me that state school and community colleges basically hire people off the street... to which I countered that, according to William Deresiewicz's book 'Excellent Sheep', Ivy League schools have come to treat students more as customers buying their grades. Oh look, they've got pork stew!" Troy grinned as they filled their trays and paid for their lunches.

Aemond made a face at his. "I'm not convinced this was worth the money," he said as they sat at the first empty table they saw.

Troy ate a spoonful of his. "Hmm... No, it's pretty bland. I guess that's what happens when you cook for hundreds of people. Tell you what, IM me after your last class, I'll round up some other friends, and we can go somewhere more palatable for dinner. Totally on me." He dug in.

Aemond hesitated. He wasn't usually one for crowds of people, and he had to wonder why this guy was being so nice to him. What did he want?

After an awkward silence, Troy shrugged. "Up to you," he said. "I'll probably bring back leftovers anyway. I like to snack while I'm studying. I think I'll start a study group. I don't think I have a roommate so we can meet in 11A.

Aemond blinked. "I'm in 11B," he said, "right across the hall. Have you met the girls in 11C yet?" he asked, lowering his already rather quiet voice. 

Troy's eyes widened. "I didn't realize the dorms were coed," he said, feeling his face heat up, or maybe that was because he'd eaten warm stew so fast. "Why would they put the girls so close to the boys? Shouldn't we be in one hall and they in another?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Aemond turned over a spoonful of stew, dispassionately watching the pork cube drop back into the bowl.

Troy pulled his backpack into his lap and pulled out the lunchbox he'd prepared. There was one tidy section of buttered brown rice, one section of cut fruit, and then in front of those was a longer section with chicken kebabs. He slid the lunchbox across the table and took Aemond's lunch for himself.

Aemond frowned at him. "I was going to finish that," he said.

Troy shrugged, but he couldn't help a small smile. "Then you should have beat me to it," he teased.

Aemond gave a resigned sigh, opened the lunchbox, and tentatively nibbled at the kebab. At least it was better-seasoned than the pork stew. "This'll do," he pronounced.

Troy nodded. "Cool. Hey, before I forget." He pulled out his laptop and emailed Aemond PDF copies of their notes.

"I have the Google drive links for those," Aemond said with raised eyebrows when his phone pinged with the notification.

"Yeah, I believe in redundant copies. Always keep a PDF file in case Microsoft or Google Docs gets hacked or corrupted, and always back things up on at least three clouds, preferably encrypted clouds. My dad's a techie," Troy explained.

Aemond nodded slowly as he took this in. He wasn't about to tell Troy what his family did for a living, but he did give a small smile of thanks for the redundant backup. 

Troy smiled back, bright and cheery, then got up. "Alright, man, I'll see you round. It's fine arts and then football for me." He dumped both empty trays, set them neatly on the tray rack, and left.

When he got to the fine arts classroom, there was a naked girl standing on a dais in the middle. He blinked, then looked around. There were a couple other girls there, but the classroom was otherwise empty.

"You're not the teacher, right?" Troy asked the naked girl. 

She turned, startled, and shook her head. "No, sorry. You're uh, you're early." She hastened to put her clothes on. "I was practicing being a nude model and my friends were practicing drawing," she explained. "Uh, I'm Cygnet Campbell." She brushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear nervously and ducked her head.

"Troy Lita." He shook her hand.

"Uhーand these are my friends!" She gestured to the occupied seats facing the dais. A cheerful-looking girl with a red bob and glasses waved at him, while a solemn-faced blonde girl who looked like she might be the redhead's sister quirked an eyebrow and went back to her drawing.

"I'm Cinnamon Starling," said the redhead, "and this is my cousin, Désmoda Vanderkeel."

Troy went and shook their hands. "Troy Lita. Nice to meet you."

"I haven't seen you around before," Cygnet said, pulling what looked like a hand-crocheted brown sash around the waist of her floor-length grey knit dress. "Are you a freshman?"

Troy nodded and took a seat next to Cinnamon. "Yeah, I'm a political science major," he said.

Désmoda snorted derisively. "Good luck," she said, leaning forward and propping her ponderous chest, practically bursting out of her bright yellow button-up cap-sleeved blouse, on the desk. She had an Eastern Bloc accent that Troy couldn't quite place. "There's only one undergrad teacher and she's a bitch."

"I noticed," Troy said. "Did she call you out for being privileged white girls?"

"And whine about how hard it is being mixed, yes," Désmoda said.

"And how hard it is being taken seriously while young and female." Cinnamon rolled her eyes. "Like, maybe if she acted more serious, she'd be taken more seriously?"

"We're all younger than her and we've had no trouble on that front," Cygnet said, sitting next to Troy. "I snagged an internship at one of the most prestigious tech firms in the Silicon Valley, south of San Jose, anyway, for my work in hardware and robotics; I'm a robotics major. And I'm only a sophomore, so I don't know what the hell she's on about."

"She whines about being half-Vietnamese and an outcast in both worlds, but at least she sounds American. I'm Hungarian and Chinese. Do you think I fit in anywhere at first?" Before Troy could answer, Désmoda plowed ahead. "The answer is, who cares? American men love foreign pussy. I can do whatever I want."

Troy couldn't disagree there. His foreign Aunties tended to get away with more brazenness by weaponizing their exotic looks and accents.

"Yeah, I mean, and we're all women," Cinnamon added. "We just make sure people know how smart we are so they don't have a chance to underestimate us, rather than crying that nobody takes us seriously. Like I mean, come on, I could whine about being pigeonholed as the funny fat girl, or I could correct the grammar and word usage of the people treating me like the funny fat girl."

"English major?" Troy guessed.

Cinnamon shook her head. "Chem. I'm working on developing a drug that triggers the release of serotonin, endorphin, dopamine, and oxytocin release associated with falling in love. I'm gonna call it SEDO. I just have to phrase my goal in a way that I can get past an ethics board. Ugh."

"Well, if the mainstream science community won't back you, we know which strings to pull, don't we?" Désmoda grinned sharkishly, an expression that made her look strikingly like Troy's baba. "I'm post-grad, in the pharmaceutical program," she explained. "I have a gift with... healing drugs."

She clammed up as more students started filing in. Troy nodded. He got her drift.

Cygnet was a natural with fine arts, at least in Troy's opinion. The art professor certainly had more feedback for Troy and Cinnamon than she did for Cygnet and Désmoda. Troy accepted it with a smile; he was pretty happy to have made new friends, regardless of how bad an artist he was.

After art class, he had football tryouts. He'd been a pretty good athlete in high school, and luckily he ended up making the cut. After tryouts he was exhausted, so he went back to the dorm to take a shower, then crashed.

He woke up to an email notification on his phone at about 7:00, from Aemond.

[About dinner, I'm in.]

Troy sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Fuck," he grumbled. He'd completely forgotten. He stretched and put on a pair of forest green corduroy pants, a black tank top, and a navy blazer, then went next door and knocked. Then he remembered Aemond had said he lived across the hall to him and some girls lived next door. He rubbed his eyes again and was just turning to go knock on the correct door when the girls' door swung open.

"Hey, Troy!" Cygnet hugged him in greeting. "What's up?"

"Hey!" Troy hugged her back, relieved. "I just came to invite you and the girls to dinner. And Aemond," he said, as if in afterthought.

Cygnet's brow puckered. "Aemond?" she repeated. "The guy with the, um... scar? How did you get him to socialize?"

Troy laughed. "Bonded over political science," he said. Cygnet nodded, understanding instantly. 

Cinnamon came up behind her. "Hey guys!"

"Hey, do you and Désmoda wanted to come to dinner with us and Aemond?"

Cinnamon shook her head. "No, Désmoda and I actually just ordered from IHOP. She's outside waiting for delivery. But have fun! Maybe next time?"

"Sure thing," said Troy. Cinnamon gave him a thumbs-up and disappeared back into the room.

Aemond had heard the voices in the hallway and peeked out through the peephole. He opened the door and stepped out, a brief little smile twitching across his lips as he saw Troy and that weird girl from his philosophy class. His eye widened in surprise as Troy greeted him with a warm hug.

"Ready to go?" Troy asked.

"Let me just get my purse," Cygnet said. She disappeared into her room and came back out a moment later with a blue, scale-patterned monstrosity. "Um, whose car are we taking?" she asked.

"I was going to call us an Uber," Troy said sheepishly. "I, uh... I have a learner's permit," he explained, "but I'm not licensed yet."

"I can drive," Aemond said. Cygnet disguised a look of surprise by batting at the air, pretending she'd seen a mosquito or somesuch. Unfooled, Aemond fixed her with a deadpan stare.

"Okay," she said. "You can drive."

"Shotgun!" Troy announced, defusing the tension as he put an arm round each of them for a second. Aemond shrugged him off almost immediately, but Cygnet let him linger before he took his arm back himself. "Okay, driver's choice, or should I nav us to my favorite restaurant?"

Aemond gazed searchingly at Troy. "I'm morbidly curious about your tastes," he said, a little more frankly than Troy had expected.

Troy smiled. "Perfect." He navigated them to a midscale restaurant that advertised as a burger and steak joint, but also served some ethnic fusion food and all-day breakfast. 

They were seated instantly, and Troy ordered one of every appetizer for them to share and a teriyaki steak with onion rings and a Caesar salad for himself. Cygnet ordered sashimi and Aemond ordered a burger. The three of them chatted pleasantly and got to know each other. Troy learned that Aemond's family was Welsh, and Cygnet's was French. The both of them had eccentric uncles and distracted mothers. Cygnet had a disappeared dad named "Diarmuid something," and Troy had a disappeared mom named "something Lita, I think? It's the only way my last name makes sense." Aemond's parents were still together, but it was a loveless marriage. He was his mother's favorite child, but his father's favorite child was Aemond's older half-sister from their father's previous marriage.

Then they discussed their majors, sort of. Cygnet did most of the talking there. She burbled excitedly about her paid internship. "I applied for a bunch of them, actually, but I'm really glad I got this one and not one of the soulless companies up north. My boss is so laid-back, he even lets us decorate our cubicles however we want. None of the furniture matches and it's amazing. Oh my God, and our lawyer! He's...." She bit her lip as she trailed off. "Sex on legs. I actually didn't like him at first, see, we met last year when he defended my old English professor." She peeled a piece of fish off its rice bed and popped it in her mouth. After she'd swallowed, she continued, "But then, like, nobody saw Professor Nesh again. He's still considered a missing person, and I have a hunch the hot lawyer had something to do with it. No proof, though, obviously. But when I met him later after Mr. Maddock hired meー are you okay, Troy? Don't drink so fast!"

"I'm fine," Troy gasped.

"Anyway, he didn't seem to know who I was at all, which is probably a good thing. Could have been awkward otherwise."

"Well, be careful," Troy said lightly. "You know what they say. The hottest ones are usually gay, taken, or both."

"Which one are you?" Cygnet asked. "You know... you kind of look like him. Hot lawyer guy."

Troy took another sip of his Sprite. "I was in the celibacy club in high school," he said, tapping his purity ring against the glass for emphasis. "I'm not gonna be dating anytime soon."

"Aww. That's cool, though. I don't really have any experience other than Nesh attacking me, either," Cygnet said matter-of-factly.

Troy winced. "Sorry that happened."

Cygnet shrugged uncomfortably, and then they moved on to other topics. Aemond had mostly tuned out the conversation until it turned to their school subjects. He was a devoted student, and he spoke with such fervor about political science in particular, that Cygnet joked he should be the teacher.

"Or at least apply for a TA position," Troy agreed. "God knows she could use a competent assistant. I mean, are our parents really paying for us to be our teacher's therapists?"

"Actually, I'm on scholarship," Cygnet said.

"Good, we can write a letter to the grantors," Troy countered. "And then they can contact the dean about hiring pick-me's off the streets."

Cygnet stared silently at him for a moment, then said quietly, "That was really mean."

Troy shrugged. "Well, either our families and grantors are paying for us to be taught by someone not all that interested in teaching, or they're shelling out for us to take just one single class at an institution that does care about our learning experience. And, you know, that's a whole nother school's tuition plus the price of the class. I'm sure they'll be thrilled about the extra expense."

"Um, or we could just hold a salon," Cygnet pointed out. "Do our homework and tests by rote, put in the bare minimum effort for the actual class... then form a group in a casual setting where we can read the textbook, current events, and whatever on-topic interests us, and just have fun discussing it. We could have a couple moderators to make sure things don't get too out-of-hand. Like Aemond."

Aemond looked at her. "Hm?"

"No, you'd be perfect. You seem like a calm, rational, level-headed person. How'd you like to help moderate a salon?"

Aemond weighed her question. He looked at Troy after a moment. "You want me to apply to be a TA." Then he looked at Cygnet. "And you want me to moderate an informal salon."

Cygnet laced her fingers with Troy's. "We just think you'd be really good at it. At least think about it. Please?"

Aemond pursed his lips as he considered it. "Hm. I'll think about it," he promised.

Troy furrowed his brow and pulled his hand back from Cygnet's. "No pressure, though. Désmoda says Miss Mai teaches all the undergrad poli sci classes, so we can easily find seniors to TA and moderate if you don't want to."

"Right," said Cygnet quietly, looking down, her cheeks flushing. "I hadn't thought of that."

When they'd had their fill, Troy asked that the rest of their food be packed to go, and he insisted on paying the full check, waving off the others' protests.

"Look, I know you guys can afford your own dinners, but I don't like doing more math than necessary and I want to tip, so...." He scribbled a number that was about $50 more than their total amount, then signed the receipt.

"Wow, you REALLY don't like math," said Cygnet, staring bug-eyed at the receipt.

"Nope," Troy agreed. "And next time you guys can figure out who pays," he said cheekily.

When they got back to their dorm, Troy hugged them both and gave them a breezy peck on the cheek goodnight, then went into his room. As he was removing and hanging up his clothes, there was a knock on the door. He opened it without looking through the peephole.

"Hi again," Cygnet said, trying not to stare at his tight turquoise boxer briefs. He was in really good shape! "So... Thanks for tonight. Cin and Dés pretty much commandeered my room for, um... Anyway, uh, d-do you have a roommate? Can I stay with you tonight?"

Troy nodded and stepped aside so she could come in, then closed the door. As she made her way to the other bed, he asked, "Wait, if you're a sophomore, how is either of them your roommate? Cin's a senior and Désmoda's post-grad, right?"

"Good memory!" Cygnet looked pleased, but flustered. "Um, I actually don't have a roommate, but they um... They took advantage of my night out with you guys and invited some boys over. It's just kind of crazy in there right now and I don't wanna be the one who tanks the party."

"Got it. Yeah, let me get you my extra bedding," Troy said. He had her bed made in short order, as she went to take a shower. 

He sat at his desk and did his homework, which came fairly easily to him. World history, at least, was easier than US history for him; given names tended to have more variety than "John". Then for political science, he just had to answer a couple of boilerplate questions from the first chapter of the textbook. He had history and political science on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; and he had English Tuesday and Thursday. Football practice was officially two hours a day, but he could hit the gym or the pool whenever. Art class was just on Mondays, but students were allowed to go in and work on projects basically any time there wasn't a conflicting art class in session. Then there was the salon Cygnet wanted to start. Troy nodded in satisfaction as he considered his schedule. He liked staying busy. And now he had some great new friends to hang out with, too!

When emerging from the shower, Cygnet hadn't bothered to put on clothes or even a towel. She'd towel-dried her hair and body in the bathroom, then hung the towel on the rack to dry. Troy was used to nudity and didn't bat an eye, not even when she came over to hug him and thank him again for being such a nice friend.

"You going to bed yet?" Troy asked as she let go of him. "I can turn off the light and finish this tomorrow."

She smiled angelically at him. "I probably should get my rest," she murmured. "Do you have an extra pillow or, like, a teddy bear that I can cuddle with? I like to hold something while I sleep."

"Way ahead of you." Troy went to the closet and pulled out a large stuffed unicorn in a cloud of pastel colors. "One of my Aunties gave me this as a parting gift. I also have a Sephiroth body pillow and a giant Tweety Bird."

Cygnet took the unicorn with a little giggle. "This is nice, thank you," she said, clutching the life-sized plush to her chest. She looked back at him as she was walking to her side of the room. "Goodnight," she said.

He gave a little salute, put the Sephiroth and Tweety on either side of his bed, then turned off the light and climbed into bed.

June 14, 2022 | Xander x Serena [SOLO]

 It was slow going, but Serena was healing. Xander had taken the initiative to make love to her regularly since their fight. Admittedly, her body did take some getting used to for him, but she preferred keeping at least a skirt and teddy on. He was surprised to find that, from the moment he made it clear he intended to make love to her, pure euphoria washed over and through Serena, burning away every painful emotion and lasting until hours after they'd both finished. He knew she loved sex and was uncomfortably privy to how she felt with others due to the nature of their bond. He had never known her to feel like this.

With clients-- when she felt lonely and went back to selling her body-- she got high off the feeling of being desired, but it was fleeting, and she had never actually gotten off with any of them. Xander still could not comprehend why she felt the need to be so promiscuous, nor why sex was so important to her. With her actual lovers, she was tender and adoring, at least with the men. She trusted Lucifer with her life. With Sigefrid and Louis, she was frequently overflowing with adrenaline. She still carried a torch for Trent, but since sleeping with him also necessitated sleeping with his wife, she was somewhat less than enthused anymore.

When she was with Xander, she was tender and adoring, cautious with her heart but trusting him entirely with their kinks, adrenaline-charged, passionate, and above all, joyful. He was beginning to understand the magnitude of her devastation when he had been away. Every time they made love, she healed a little more, trusted him a little more. She was as clingy as ever, but she was easier to be around and feed from.

It became a sort of ritual for them. He fed from her, which turned her on, and he now allowed himself to grow aroused, too. He teased her while he fed; she melted against him and teased him in return. When he'd had his fill of her blood, she pleasured him with her mouth. They would make love for hours. she would wrap her arms and legs around him:

"Xandy, I love you so much."

Since it was clear Serena thought of her Xandy as a second husband, Luci was strict in his standards for how the vampire treated her. Making her cry or making her feel insecure in any way would lead to a diet of animal blood and loss of his vampiric powers until he made up with her. It was a harsh punishment, but considering Luci had the power to send him to Hell or destroy him entirely, Xander had no choice but to watch his step. Serena herself was unwilling to make Xander suffer and would do everything she could to show him where she was coming from before it got to that point.

For someone so sadistic and antipathetic towards most, it was shocking to see how kind and forgiving she was towards her lovers. Luci had stalked her since she was 17 and kidnapped her to watch her sleep on multiple occasions. Trent had taken advantage of her feelings for him and broken her heart more than once. Sigefrid, Louis, and Nathaniel had all tried to kill her. Dany, was one of her official lovers, and Haesten, who was not, had both forced their way with her. Yet she'd forgiven all of them, or at least, needed their love too much to give them up. Xander deeply wished she would let go of the others and belong to Luci and him alone. He outright despised Sigefrid, Dany, and Louis. But as much as Serena wanted to forgive him, she didn't fully trust him yet.

(Note: The incident with Haesten is a solo I started but then got distracted before I finished. I'll put it up eventually.)

June 4, 2022 | Xander x Serena [SOLO]

Note: This was a little exercise I did to explore how I thought it would be if Xander was forced to feel everything Serena felt. She also gets a hell of a lot of angst out here. TW violence. Also, this is not meant to be guilt-slinging in any way. It's just what Serena was going through mentally at the time and I had to get it all out.

 Xander hated it when Serena insisted on cuddling him close while her husband made love to her, but he put up with it because he would rather be her emotional teddy bear than be nothing to her. Being around her was torture; she refused to acknowledge the pain and anger she still felt from their fight months ago. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't convince herself fully that she'd forgiven him. Yet she clung to him with all her might, pleading with her eyes for him to embrace her. And he did, because underneath her unacknowledged resentment, he could feel the strength of her love for him.

She was taking some time away from the club. Sigefrid was riding out more frequently now, and Serena, terrified that he'd met someone else, had fled without a word the night before his last trip. The relief her presence provided from his chronic pain was stronger than any opiate, and his resistance to pain had diminished considerably while she had been living with him. His dependence on her always brought him back. It had been enough, at first. She hadn't minded being used as long as she got to be in his life and warm his bed. But her jealousy toward other women had led to her shooting a crow-eater who'd been making eyes at him, and her trigger-happy demeanor was unsettling for the others in the club.

She was grateful Lucifer didn't feel the same murderous hatred towards her other men. Xander, on the other hand, was extremely jealous and possessive, and he'd made it clear he didn't like Sigefrid or Louis. He wanted to keep her here, with Lucifer and himself, for as long as possible. So, he endured her clinginess and refusal to go anywhere without both of them. She had stopped asking Xander to make love to her. He could sense that she still wanted to, that she craved him inside of her, but she would always withdraw rather than ask him for such a favor. Maze hadn't touched him in months, either. Whether in some twisted female solidarity, lack of interest, or by Lucifer's command, he didn't know.

Her once-bright teal eyes had dimmed to a shade of grey, and while she still didn't get sick, it was taking her longer to heal herself lately. Xander could feel her emotions as strongly as ever. She was angry and depressed, punctuated with bouts of sudden euphoria. Being reminded how loved she really was-- something she could never remember on her own-- brought her the purest joy, and it was in those times Xander preferred to feed on her. The feedings also made her happy, and turned her on, though of course she never mentioned that anymore.

She needed his embrace and his bite. He needed her to be happy. He swore he would do anything to put the light back in her eyes.

It all came to a head one day in June. Serena walked in on Nathaniel trying to kiss Xander and lost her composure completely. She grabbed a softball bat from the closet, shoved Nathaniel away, and cracked Nathaniel across the face with the bat, screaming obscenities at him.

Then she rounded on Xander.

"And you." There was light in her eyes, but not the kind he'd wanted to see.

"I was about to stop him--"

"Don't give me that bullshit, Xander! You think I don't remember how you reacted to Nathaniel and Trent's little pole-dancing session back in September? Oh--oh--speaking of Trent! You slept with my best friend, who's very clearly a man, and you enjoyed it, and then you have the gall to tell me months later that the idea of sleeping with a man makes you sick! You're the reason I have dysphoria now, you insensitive son of a bitch!" Tears were streaming down her face by now, her voice was cracking and she was having trouble keeping it modulated, but none of that mattered. She was finally getting it all out.

"I apologized for that when I came back," Xander reminded her, "when Luci summoned me, and you said you forgave me." His voice was calm, without accusation.

As quickly as her rage had come on, it dissipated, leaving her crying and shaking her head. "I thought I had. But you'd threatened to break up with me, and before that, you left me all alone for a month. I don't care why you left, Xander, you were gone!" Her temper flared again. "And the sense of purpose I got from feeding you, that feeling of being special, that was gone, too! I missed you every single day that you were gone, and when you came back, you refused to feed because I wasn't happy enough for you! I'm your Singer, Xander! That's why we bonded, or did you 'forget' that, too? Come to think of it, what the hell were you eating while you were gone?" Though she didn't say it, the look in her eyes and the jealousy surging through her told Xander she feared he'd cheated on her with the groupie chicks who hung round the museum at night.

"Animal blood, from the butcher shop. It did not satisfy me as yours does, but I have told you, I can taste your emotions. I can feel them, too. It is... painful to--"

"You think it's painful, feeling what I feel secondhand through our bond? Try fucking living with it 24/7!" Serena shouted. She looked like she wanted to hit him with the bat, too. "You--" She gave a loud, frustrated sigh and dropped the bat. "Empathy is nothing next to compassion," she said in a more measured voice. "You flinch when I feel pain, but you don't try to take it away. You just scold me for feeling it. And when I push it down and try to be okay, somehow that's worse. I love you so much! You're so intent on avoiding the pain I feel that you push me away and make it worse, and that, I don't love." She shook her head miserably. "Do you really comprehend how shocking it was when you suggested we break up? Why the goddamn hell would you ever think that was something I would-- I couldn't survive that! I can't--"

She broke down completely, unable to speak. Xander hesitated, but put his arms around her after a moment. She melted into his touch and a sense of relief coursed through them both. He let her cry for a couple of minutes, then spoke.

"I did not think you were as enamored with me as you had once been."

She lifted her head, confused. "What?"

He sighed. "If you loved and needed me so much, why chase after other men? I felt... inadequate." He hated to admit it, but it was true. "I can accept your history with Trent and your attachment to Lucifer. I can even tolerate you sleeping with Maze and Rebecca, to a degree-- don't look so surprised, of course I knew-- but those ruffians, and that criminal who looks like you... I am sorry, but I cannot understand why you would want or need them when you have us."

She ducked her head again, reluctant to answer. He could guess what she was about to say, and he dreaded it, but this was a discussion they had to have if they were going to move forward in any way.

"Because," Serena said softly, almost in a whisper, "they desired me. You, Xander, you were only interested in me after you tasted me, and even then, you pushed me away at first. Sometimes you treat me like something you have to put up with to get fed, and that's when you're not treating feeding like a chore in the first place. Sigefrid flirted with me and, okay, yeah, he was pissed when he found out about my body, but he actually acted like he needed me once we got past that hurdle."

"You mean, after you stabbed him, stalked him, and plied him with drugs," Nathaniel put in from the couch, holding ice to his cheek.

Ignoring that, Serena continued, "And Louis, he--"

"Broke into your house, beat you, fucked you at knifepoint, and tried to stab you to death," Nathaniel finished. "Honestly, Xander has a point. And you never would have met either of them if you hadn't gone back to hooking."

Serena frowned at Nathaniel. "Buglet, I wouldn't have had to go back to hooking if Xandy hadn't gone away. I'm surprised you didn't start, given how upset you were about George."

Xandy. That was a good sign. She was back to using her pet name for him.

She turned back to face him. "I can't be left alone, Xandy. I just can't. I can't handle it. And before you say I have Luci-- yes, I do, and normally that would have helped, but he was sleeping with Nathaniel at the time, and Nate needed him. So I fell back on what I'm good at, something to fill the void, pun intended--"

Nathaniel laughed despite himself.

"--and, well, you know. But sweetie, I never meant to make you feel like you weren't enough. I love you, and I am so, so sorry that I hurt you." She wet her lips nervously. "But... I also can't give them up. What if something happens and you're gone again? And what if Luci's busy at the same time-- I can't deal with that alone. I also don't want to fight anymore and I don't want to be mad. I want us to be happy together."

Xander sighed. "I want that, too. Despite what you may think, I love you, too. I never stopped. Even at my angriest, I could never stop loving you."

Serena's smile and the color returning to her eyes told him that he had finally said the right thing, and that the happiness lighting her up from the inside was pure and true.

May 9, 2022 - Sigefrid x Serena [SOLO]

Sigefrid found Serena's love of pomegranates completely incomprehensible-- too much work for too little reward, he said. She just smiled and fed him some of the juice that dripped down her fingers.

"Tastes good," he grunted, a bit grudgingly.

"So do you," she murmured, making her way slowly down his body with a mischievous smile. He closed his eyes and tangled his fingers in her hair. "And I worked hard for you."

He scoffed. She had, indeed, been desperate to appeal to him after he'd clocked her. "You calling me a fruit?" he asked with mock indignation.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied. "The other guys, though...."

"It's an open secret," Sigefrid said. "Haesten and Dany know, and if Dany knows, Harley knows. Surprised he hasn't said anything."

"Erik knows, but he's discreet. Allya probably knows, but doesn't want to get shot like her idiot brother." Serena smirked at the memory of kneecapping Rheagal. "And if Haesten, Dany, and Allya know, so does Dagfinn."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Dagfinn's usually off in his own world. Now, are we going to keep talking, or are you going to finish what you started?" He pressed on her head for emphasis.

"Oh, and Skorpa knows," Serena added, ignoring Sigefrid's chiding. She nibbled his lower stomach teasingly, making him moan and buck his hips.

May 1, 2022 | Sebastian x Rebecca - story fragment [SOLO]

CW: Discussion of noncon.

 Rebecca went looking for Serena at the MC. As it happened, Sebastian was there quietly discussing legal matters with Sigefrid and two men Rebecca couldn't place, though another girl was there clinging to them both by the arm.

"Bash, could I talk to you for a second?" Rebecca asked. A large man made a crude remark and swatted at her ass; she whirled on him with a glare.

"Easy, Haesten," Sebastian said, sounding bored, as if he dealt with those antics from Haesten all the time.

"Why?" Haesten asked mockingly. "Is she your woman?" Raucous laughter broke out at that. Sebastian smirked and clapped a hand on Haesten's shoulder.

"She's my best friend's wife," he said casually. "She wouldn't want you to take a turn with her."

Haesten's eyes went flinty. "I do not care what she would want," he said. "Sigefrid's and Erik's women parade themselves and none of us may touch them, but a pretty girl who comes so willingly into our den--"

"Is it not enough for you that you've taken Skade?" an older man demanded from his seat on one of the couches.

"If you'd like to form a line and each take a number," Sebastian quipped.

"What?!" Rebecca screeched.

"Since you brought her here, you should take the first turn. I'm feeling generous today." Laughter broke out again at Haesten's words.

"Good to know you'd be content with my sloppy seconds," Sebastian drawled, "but seriously, she's not on the menu."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. She'd been wondering if Sebastian would say anything useful. He turned his attention back to Sigefrid and resumed their discussion. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently until Sebastian scowled back over at her.

"If you'd like me to change my mind and ask these strapping gentlemen to keep you occupied--"

"Where's Trent?" she demanded, impatiently waving away his threat.

"Trent has been banned from this clubhouse for months," one of the men beside Sigefrid said in a high, somewhat nasally voice. The girl clinging to him nodded.

"He threatened Erik," she added.

"I know that, but I thought Bash would know where he is," Rebecca said.

The other man Erik's girlfriend was clinging to spoke up. "How did you know our lawyer would be here?"

Rebecca stammered awkwardly for a moment. Sebastian would kill her if she outed him, but she was terrible at coming up with plausible excuses on the spot. Sebastian himself seemed greatly entertained, crossing his arms and leaning against Sigefrid with a cool smirk, until Haesten spoke up.

"Look, she does not know what to say. Do you know what I think? She came into this clubhouse under a flimsy pretext, hoping to get some action." He advanced on her, but Sebastian took her by the arm and led her out.

"Off the menu, I said," he called back as they were leaving. He dragged her to his car and shoved her roughly into the passenger side, then got in.

"Seriously. What the hell?" he asked as he peeled out of the parking lot.

"I keep forgetting you're stronger than you look," she breathed distractedly. He frowned, but kept his eyes on the road.

"Haesten's right, you shouldn't have gone looking for me there. You couldn't have sent a text? Rebecca, I know you lack common sense at the best of times, but those guys are bad news."

"You hang out there all the time," she muttered, "in drag. You don't seem too threatened. Why should I be? And that other girl--"

"Allya and I-- Allya and Serena-- are under the protection of the vice president and the president. Some random chick walks in there, looking the way you look, and they'll use any excuse to tie her up and gangbang her. Unless you're into that, send a fucking text next time. And no, for the record, I don't know where your husband is. He showed up at Xandy's and my hotel room last week and I sent him away."

Rebecca scoffed. "You sent away Trent? The guy you've been obsessing over since you were in grade school? I don't believe it."

Sebastian's normally pouty lips went into a hard, straight line. Rebecca tried to open the discussion a few more times, but he ignored her until they got to her house.

"Get the hell out of my car," he said. She didn't. He turned to face her, teal eyes narrowed in anger. "Unless you want me to drive you back there and make a gift of you to Haesten--"

Without thinking, she launched herself at him. Grasping his face in her hands, she kissed him aggressively and made her way into his lap. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wondered if he was going to shove her away, hit her, or make good on his threat. Excitement pooled below her waist as the thought crossed her mind. Haesten wasn't a terrible-looking guy, and some of the others, with their long hair and muscular bodies, she wouldn't mind being railed by a few of them. Her face flushed as her imagination took over, and it took a good few minutes for her to realize she was still making out with her husband's ex-boyfriend, who hadn't done a thing to stop her. She pulled back, bit her lip, and looked up at him through her lashes. He rolled his eyes at her, opened the car door, and more-or-less gently nudged her off his lap onto the pavement.

"You could keep me company until he gets back," she husked, trying her damnedest to sound seductive. "And then... maybe we could share him."

Sebastian's lips parted. He'd been the one to break things off with Trent, but he clearly still loved the man, and he wasn't prideful enough to deny an opportunity to hook up with Trent with Rebecca's blessing. Besides, she could clearly see he was aroused. He might hate her, but he'd made it clear on multiple occasions that he found her attractive despite his constant digs at her body.

He ended up following her inside and feigning disinterest as she removed both their clothes. He allowed himself to be led to the bedroom and pressed onto the bed. He scooted up into a seated position by the head of the bed, his expression neutral as she situated herself, impaled on him with her legs wrapped around his waist. It wasn't the first or even the fourth time they'd hooked up, although it had never been just the two of them before. She was vocal as she rode him, running her hands through his curly blond hair, pressing her massive chest against him as though she expected him to appreciate it. He allowed her to use his body to get herself off, only reacting when she gushed all over his lap: He closed his eyes and tilted his head back with a faint smile.

Afterwards, when she was cleaning them off, she grimaced at him. "Hey," she began. "I'm sorry about before. I think I might have peed on you a little."

To her surprise, his cheeks colored faintly as he waved off her apology.

"It's fine," he said.

She looked at him quizzically. His blush deepened and he refused to meet her gaze.

"Sebastian? Are you... into that?" she asked. "It's okay if you are. I'm into some weird things too."

Sebastian huffed, got up, and left the room. When she padded out a few minutes later, he was dressed and watching a Mandarin drama on Netflix. She settled on the couch next to him, nestling in against him, and he put an arm around her automatically.

"We can make this a regular thing, if you want," he said between episodes, "but I am beyond uncomfortable discussing my kinks with you."

"That's not fair," Rebecca protested, pausing the show. "You and Trent stalked me and spied on me for years. You know all of my kinks. Why can't I know one or two of yours?"

"You do know one or two of mine," Sebastian gritted out through clenched teeth. "You know I like getting fucked in drag, and you know I have a thing for knives, both of which are evident from my relationship with Sigefrid." His expression softened into a fond smile for a moment, then his brow creased and he pulled out his phone. "Crap. I should tell him I'm here. Likewise, you need to tell Trent what just happened."

"What? Why me?"

"At the risk of sounding five, because you started it."

"You don't sound five." At Sebastian's disbelieving look, Rebecca shook her head and grinned. "no. Because if you did, I couldn't point out that... you didn't finish."

Sebastian blushed again. "Mind your own business," he groused. She laughed and straddled his lap again.

"Getting you off is my business," she purred in his ear. He shoved her off his lap with one hand and, when she looked up at him from the floor, there was as clear expression of annoyance on his face.

"Let's clear something up." There was a cold note in his normally warm and sweet baritone. "I jacked off watching footage of you in college, and then later when you slept with Trent. I've had group sex with you multiple times and, yeah, if those guys in the club had forced their way, I wouldn't have had a problem participating. But I have never once had an orgasm because of you, and I never will. Oh, don't give me that kicked-puppy look. I don't cum that often. I spend 90% of my sex life in chastity, so."

"Are you kidding me?" Rebecca snapped, sitting back on the couch and glaring at him. "You got 30 girls pregnant, Sebastian!"

"Which was clearly a prank from one of my in-laws," Sebastian retorted. "Oh, tee-hee, let's mess with the succubus. Have 'em knock up a bunch of chicks! Hilarious!" He threw up his hands angrily.

"Okay, but--"

"Listen." He steamrolled over her protests. "There is no way in hell I would ever get off from you consensually banging me."

Rebecca's eyes widened in horror as the implication sank in. He gave an ironic chuckle, seeming satisfied that she got the message.

"Don't look so surprised. You know I hate you." His voice was warm again, laconic. "I have no problem hooking up with you as much as you want. Be as good or bad in bed as you want, it doesn't matter to me. You won't get me off either way." He shrugged for emphasis. "And don't worry, I won't do the other thing unless you really piss me off."

She shivered. That was a pretty low bar to set. But she also didn't fully believe she couldn't get him off if she really tried. She scooted up next to him on the couch and rested her hand on his thigh. His eyebrows rose, but he otherwise ignored her, even when she pulled his arm around her.

"Hey, isn't that the actor Faustus likes?" she asked, nodding to the screen as she hit play.

"Vanness Wu," Sebastian nodded. "Yep."

"He is kind of cute."

Sebastian grunted in the affirmative.

"Fine," said Rebecca after a moment. "I'll text him."

A few episodes later, they were a tangle of limbs on the living room floor. Rebecca was exhausted and frustrated. She'd done everything she could think of, used every last ounce of her skill, and failed to evoke the desired response from Sebastian. He, meanwhile, was able to play her body like a fiddle with seemingly very little effort. For a guy who wasn't too enthused about sleeping with women, he had a shockingly good grasp of how to please them. Maybe Trent had shared some of his sex books with his friend, or maybe his skill came from spying on her in bed for over a decade.

"I hate you, so much," she panted now, nestling closer to him even as she said so.

"Good," he replied indifferently, like he hadn't been vigorously pounding into her and thumbing her clit five minutes ago.

"See, I don't get it," she said, propping herself up on one elbow as she regarded him appraisingly. "You have this cold, calculating act. You claim I couldn't get you off unless you were raping me. But when we're actually doing it, I can tell you're enjoying it. The way you look at me, the way you touch me, it doesn't feel like you hate me at all."

He rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Rebecca, the first person I ever loved abandoned me to chase after a relationship with you, multiple times," he explained patiently. "Of course I hate you. You take him completely for granted and then get mad when he shows a mind of his own instead of doing your bidding. For twelve years, you kept forgetting he existed until you wanted something from him, then got a bug up your ass when he had needs of his own. Nathaniel and I broke up with him because of drama you kept causing. But on the flip side, Trent's fascination with you was contagious. I want to know what the hell is so special bout you that the man I protected and loved for over 20 years could forget about me so easily. I don't want to think he's just out of his fucking mind, but personally, I can't think of any other reason he'd like you." Sebastian's voice was shaking as he ranted at her.

She scoffed, trying to hide how much his words hurt. "Okay. Wow. But that doesn't mean anything. You don't even like girls."

"Wrong," said Sebastian. "My first celebrity crush was Sandra Bullock. I sleep with Maze... semi-regularly, it used to be more often, but whatever. I have no problem bedding girls. You, however, I despise. I want to make that very clear to you."

Rebecca's hazel eyes narrowed. "Do you-- with Maze-- does she, you know?"

He stared at her until she completed her thought.

"Does she make you... you know, finish?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes yet again and huffed. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. Rarely, but it happens. And yes, when it's just her and me," he added.

Rebecca nodded slowly, eyes wide. "Wowww," she intoned. Then she smirked. "I'll make you enjoy it with me. You'll see. Challenge accepted."

April 23, 2022 | Lazy feel-better fic - Serena x club [SOLO]

This was actually written March 9th, but takes place in April, so it's marked for April. I figure the last woman to realize she was pregnant would have caught on round the end of March, so a week from the end of April seemed appropriate.

Serena was taking care of Sigefrid's club, who had fallen ill around the same time. Despite some of the men's dislike of her clingy, needy personality, the fact that she couldn't get sick was her saving grace. She cooked, kept the safehouse clean, and did the men's laundry in ordinary circumstances. Now she was feeding them soup with fresh meat and vegetables, practically by the gallon. She had added sponge-bathing them to her list of duties and was doing their laundry far more frequently, with the help of her husband's consort, Faustus, who stepped in with magic when tasks got overwhelming. Faustus had warmed significantly toward Serena since she'd cleared him to sleep with Lucifer, not that Serena had been the one holding him back in the first place.

Serena had taken it upon herself to take care of all the men across three charters. But she paid special attention to the president, Sigefrid, who was her lover. And she may have also shown preferential treatment towards her friends Dagfinn (technically Sebastian's friend) and Dany (whom Serena had been attracted to before she'd met Sigefrid). She would have been preferential towards Bloodhair as well, but she was still sore with him for being unkind to her on his ex's behalf. But that was not to say she treated any of the boys poorly. She showed her deep adoration for Sigefrid by taking her caregiving role seriously. She'd come to see Sigefrid's men as an extension of him: All must be kept safe, fed, and clean, in as close to fighting shape as possible. Serena would get her own men-- extensions of herself-- to help, but they had their hands full taking care of the 30 mothers of Sebastian's burgeoning young. Adding a group of flu-stricken bikers to the list of people they needed to help would have been asking too much.

The women had begun to see each other as a community. Living in the same complex helped. Those who had shared Sebastian with the same lover were closest as they lived side-by-side and had that lover as a caretaker. Luci, of course, had declined caretaking duties and sent Xander-- who had not participated in any of those threesomes-- in his place. As the women grew closer, the strong better able to take care of those with more complications, it took weight off the shoulders of those assigned to see to them. Replacing that weight with yet more of Serena's... whatever they were was, again, too much even for Serena to ask.

Yet most of her partners loved Serena enough to help her take care of the bikers anyway. Nathaniel made vitamin-rich smoothies. Trent had the scarves Sebastian had made for him over the years sewn into blankets. Helena persuaded Freya to provide herbal remedies to ease the bikers' symptoms. Freya was with child herself; Faustus was responsible for taking care of her along with his own share of Sebastian's flings. He called upon his friend Dorian to help with his share, though, and Dorian did feel some measure of responsibility towards Freya.

Luci had been asked to cure the bikers' flu. He'd flatly refused, since Serena already over-used the healing ability he'd given her via the feather implanted along her spine. Serena disliked asking him for favors, and he disliked turning them down, yet his siblings had begun to grumble about Serena's use of divinity that did not rightfully belong to her. He was, he explained, protecting her. She didn't like the situation, but she accepted it. So Luci helped by keeping liquor and medicine stocked.

Trent had used to take care of Sebastian back when they were boys together, back when Sebastian could still get sick. Trent was patient, nurturing, and sweet-natured. He had once volunteered to take care of all 30 of the women who'd fallen pregnant. He had amazing fortitude for a regular human, and these qualities made him lovable. Yet Trent had once threatened Erik because he didn't like how some of the bikers were treating Serena, and was subsequently banned from their safehouse. He was in no great hurry to help the club, but he'd do just about anything for Serena.

Serena convinced Dany and Sigefrid to share a bed and let her snuggle up between them. She knew they both suffered from night terrors. When she felt alone, so did she. This way, the three of them kept each other comforted.

The boys were a little on-edge when Xander came around. They refused to invite him in, so Serena met him outside for feedings. Sometimes he held her a little longer than strictly necessary-- making up for lost time-- and she never complained. She loved him just as much as she loved Sigefrid. She remembered back when she and Xander had met. They hadn't gotten along at first. They'd each called the other out on the loneliness that drove their unpleasant habits. But they'd come to feel affection for each other over time, and the moment Serena's blood had touched Xander's lips, it was clear she'd been born to feed him, to love him, to be his human forever. He was possessive of her, and he and Sigefrid were mutually jealous of each other, but there was a tense sort of understanding between them.

With so many people to love and care for, Serena sometimes felt she had the world on a string. She loved having men to pamper and snuggle with. So what if she was a needy mess? She was unendingly giving, and she'd do anything for those she loved. The lucky ones would see that and appreciate her loyalty, clinginess or no. Those lucky ones would have her love and the benefits that came with it for the rest of their lives.

April 3, 2022 - Post-divorce [SOLO]

Note: This was written in March, but takes place in April.

 

A couple of months after the Blackwoods' divorce, Blaine Menchineel awoke to a knock at the office door. He had been sifting through the paperwork Fr. Blackwood had so considerately left him when moving across the damned country. Wearily, Blaine sat up and stretched. The knock sounded again, more insistently. Blaine stood and strode to the door. He threw it open with a look of annoyance, which softened as he saw who was standing on the other side of it.

"Lady— er, Freya!" he exclaimed, not bothering to hide his surprise. "What brings you here?"

"I have news," she said. "News my ex-husband will want to hear. What are you doing in his office, Blaine?"

"Eh, about that." Blaine scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you when we met, but I was transferred here to train as Blackwood's replacement. Antipope D'August recommended me."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Then you're…?"

"Father Menchineel, yes. Ehm, what is this news you bring?"

She opened and closed her mouth, then opened it again and said, "Nothing of concern to this branch of the church. It's a personal matter between Faustus and I." She blushed, hoping that didn't sound too rude.

"He and Dorian have moved already," Blaine said reluctantly. She balked at the pity in his gaze. "He's put the plans for the new church on hold for the time being, as you were disinclined to accompany him. He… ehm… he's been declared a consort of his friend, the club owner."

Freya could feel the emotions swirling around inside her, bringing her to a state of teeth-chattering dizziness. "You mean Luci," she said. "And his husband— wife— whatever, approved this?"

"If there've been any protestations, I've heard nothing of it."

"You would have," Freya said darkly. "Bash isn't the type to handle replacement gracefully." The air around her crackled dangerously. "Even if he isn't being replaced. You would have heard something," she insisted. A flame burst forth from her, dissipating just before it reached the paperwork on Blaine's fine mahogany desk.

"Shall we take this conversation outside?" he offered. "Conjure you up some tea, perhaps?"

She agreed to follow him outside, but declined the tea. "I can't risk it. Certain herbs— the baby—" She clapped both hands over her mouth, blushing furiously.

Blaine said nothing, but silently conjured a quill and piece of parchment. He wrote a short note and sent it off with a wave of his hand. Within moments, Faustus materialized, frilled shirt pulled out of smart grey slacks, hair uncoiffed. When he saw his ex-wife, he straightened up a bit.

"Freya." His voice carried the barest hint of astonishment. "Yes, Father Menchineel said you need to see me. What for?"

At the sight of him, Freya had to work hard not to break down crying or throw a curse or a fireball at him, or launch herself at him and start beating his chest with her fists like a mortal woman.

"You— you left me in my state to go chasing after a man!" she spluttered, laying aside the fact that it had been she who had left him. "All your pretty promises to love me forever and cherish me! They were all lies, Faustus!"

The expression on Faustus's face made it clear he thought he could say the same for her. "You've had no trouble moving on," he said bluntly, inclining his head to Blaine. "Did you think I wouldn't know about you flirting with him?" he asked patiently, calmly.

"Do not patronize me so!" she snapped. "As if you didn't flirt with Luci all the time, and now you're LIVING with him! I can't believe you!"

"Is this why you had Father Menchineel summon me here?" Faustus asked. "To rehash the same old arguments yet again?"

"No, you ASS!" she snarled. "I'm with child!"

Faustus blinked once, twice, three times in rapid succession. "… Mine?" he asked. He neither ducked nor flinched when she slapped his face.

"Yes, YOURS!" she bellowed. "Whose else would it be? And don't you DARE cut your eyes to Blaine again! He and I were never more than friends!"

"Neither were Luci and I, till you chose to divorce me," Faustus pointed out.

"I… gave you EVERYTHING!" she raged. "My brother DIED so that I could be with you! You took my innocence, you took me away from my family! I loved you more than anything, but it still wasn't enough for you, was it? You lusted, you PINED after Luci, and Trent, and Luci's spouse and who KNOWS who else? You stopped protecting me from Nathaniel's insults long ago, and— and— you never deserved me, Faustus Blackwood!" she finished, with an impressive stomp of her little foot.

Faustus couldn't help a small chuckle from escaping him. As angry as she was, she still had a strangely endearing way about her.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" she roared, aiming a fireball at him. He mostly dodged it, but stumbled, and it singed his shoulder.

"I'll take my leave," Blaine said, bowing out quickly.

"I stopped defending you against Nathaniel because he stopped insulting you in malice," Faustus tried to explain. "I got the impression he was ribbing you, in a sort of— how do the mortals do it?— pulls her hair and runs away, manner. As for Serena, I've explained to you that I'd no intention of actually shagging her—"

"Have you?" Freya asked abruptly, cutting him off. "With either 'Serena' or Luci?" The discomfort on Faustus's face as he hesitated told her all she needed to know. She scoffed. "Of course you have."

"Not the way you're thinking," Faustus said placatingly. Freya narrowed her eyes at him.

"What other way is there?"

Faustus took a breath. "Serena— Sebastian— brings home girls who've flirted, yet doesn't sleep with those girls solo. Each young lady chooses someone she'd like Sebastian to share her with."

"Thank you. I don't require more details." Freya's lip trembled. "How often have you been that man?"

"Eh, three times," Faustus muttered, toeing the pavement uncomfortably. "As have the rest of us."

Freya was curious despite herself. "Who?"

Faustus sighed. "Luci, Maze, Trent, Nathaniel, Catherine, Helena, Dorian, Louis, and someone called Dan or Danny. Xander and Sigefrid have a talent for making themselves scarce when the girls show up."

Freya did some quick calculations in her head. "Thirty!?" she exploded. "Bash— Mr. 'I can't date Cat because I'm actually gay'— has brought home THIRTY WOMEN!? And you all SHARE them with him? That's disgusting, Faustus!"

"Yes, well, it turns out you've something in common with them," Faustus said dryly.

"What could I possibly—" Then it hit her. "Ohhhhhh…. No! Faustus! What the FUCK!?" She slapped him again, hard! "And how many of THOSE are yours!?"

"Easy, girl! I've pupped no-one," he said, raising his hands. "None other than you, and Constance when she lived, of course. They're all Sebastian's."

Her disbelieving scoff mirrored exactly the one he had uttered when he had learned the same.

"All thirty girls have gotten paternity tests, and each of the tests indicate Sebastian is the father."

"Wow. WOW. It's a good thing you never fucked him or you'd have probably, somehow, magically come up pregnant too."

"Don't be silly," Faustus said lightly. "He doesn't penetrate men."

"Except Trent."

"Yes, except Trent."

They shared an awkward sort of smile.

"Well, Freya, I'm happy to give you the support you need, but I would either require you to move to the ladies' flats with me—"

"Wait… What?" Freya tilted her head quizzically.

"Ah, yes, I've not explained. Sebastian bought an apartment complex for the mothers. Each of us has been assigned as caretaker for the women we shared with him, so therefore each of us is in charge of three units and three ladies. Actually, Luci declined to take care of his ladies and reassigned them to Xander."

"He compelled Xander?" Freya asked with interest.

"I was not present for that conversation, nor have I asked. Though I do seem to recall eavesdropping on Xander and Sebastian discussing raising a baby together, so it's likely he volunteered."

"Oh." Freya blew out a breath as she and Faustus sat down at the edge of a fountain. They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Faustus said,

"I know you've made connections here. This is an awkward situation with no clear resolution—"

"I could stay with Blaine and raise the baby here," she said quietly.

Faustus's mouth puckered. "If that is what you wish, why would you tell me about the baby in the first place?"

"I do not know." It was her turn to shift about awkwardly. "I thought it was the right thing to do. I don't know if that's what I want."

Another long pause. Then, "You've lands given to you in the settlement. The caretakers of the honeymoon castle in Prague, for example, would be more than happy to assist you. I'm not worried, Freya. You make friends wherever you go."

"I also make enemies," she pointed out. "People who hate me for no reason. Ursula. Nathaniel. In fact, if Nathaniel is living in the mothers' complex, I DON'T want to go there." She fisted a hand in her skirt angrily.

"He's fond of you," Faustus pointed out. "He was against the divorce."

"So I've heard." The set of Freya's jaw made it clear she didn't believe that. "He may be cute, but he was always a jerk to me. I'd never even consider someone like that." She gave a little harrumph and stuck her nose in the air, crossing her arms to emphasize her point.

Faustus smiled wistfully again. "You should get your rest," he said. "I'll stay with you." He took out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting George to have him take over my girls."

"There's no need. Father Menchineel can look after me." Was it a test or did she speak true?

Faustus gave her a long look. "I shall stay," he repeated. "Father Menchineel has paperwork to see to. He has Ambrose's help, but I imagine they're overwhelmed even so."

Freya scoffed. "That must be the lamest excuse I've ever heard."

"So be it."