#i think the blonde lady and the brunette might be having an affair

[macguffinandco]

MURDER AT MIST TREE MANOR 🔎

Our latest microsetting features an idyllic trip to a remote country house that’s definitely, for certain, going to contain absolutely no murders oh god oh no is that a body on the floor

quick please help us solve this fiasco by running to the patreon

[erin-bo-berin]

Birthday Surprise

MASTERLIST

So I actually got this idea from a adult romance book I read last year and it was so humorous, I knew I wanted to write a scenario like it with Spencer and the team. Besides, Spencer can be funny at times too.  Hope you enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 2,529

You can’t believe you let your best friend talk you into this.

“It will be a great birthday present!” Bree exclaimed, beaming.

You grumble to yourself. This was a better idea in theory than reality.

Your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, had a birthday coming up. It was the last year of his 30’s and you really wanted to do something special for him, but with every gift you thought of, it just didn’t seem to be enough.

That was when Bree, the grand schemer of all schemes, came up with what she thought was a brilliant idea. 

She worked at a nice, upscale restaurant as a waitress. Also, she had one of the nicest sections. You were to make reservations for you two and you would hide under the table for when he arrived and you could give him a secretive, surprise blow job. It would be hot and memorable, she said.

You arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes early. Bree had managed to snag you a table that was off in a corner, with more privacy and helped you under the table. Which is where you currently were.

It all sounded great when she had hatched the idea, now you just felt silly, your knees were numb and your feet were falling asleep. You were about ready to give up and come out from under the table with your tail between your legs when you heard voices approaching your table.

“Here’s your table, sir, I’ll be right back with your menu,” Bree said, probably louder than she should have. 

With one rap against the table, you knew that she was giving you the signal that you two were alone now. 

You watch as he sat down and you see his familiar black converse suddenly appear inches from your legs, his black suit pants accompanying the shoes. He’d probably just come from work.

You hesitate, not sure if you should go through this, but decide you’ll never get another chance like this. You’re reaching out for his belt buckle when you hear Bree’s voice, loud and close again.

“Can I help you?”

There was a pause and then a mixture of voices you didn’t recognize.

“Let me see if I have a bigger table available in my area! I’ll be just one second!” 

Bree’s voice is suddenly high pitched, sounding frantic. You know her voice only sounds like that during super busy shifts, when she’s panicked and freaking out. Something is wrong and you have no idea what’s going on.

Your phone buzzes in your purse. You twist around, not easily, to retrieve it from your bag. It’s a text from Bree.

ABORT MISSION. More dinner guests.

Your brows furrow. You have no earthly idea what she’s talking about. You send back a few question marks.

A huge group of people just showed up to your and Spencer’s table.

Your phone vibrates repeatedly with multiple texts from your friend.

Tall assassin looking black woman.

Hispanic looking guy with nice hair.

Buff Asian hottie with tattoo.

Italian grandpa.

Brunette boss lady with bangs.

Pretty blonde with killer legs.

Another blonde wearing every color in the rainbow and cute shoes.

You stop breathing for a second. They all sound like Spencer’s coworkers.

As in coworkers from the team in the unit of the FBI, where he works. This was not how you planned to meet them for the first time.

You have no idea why they’re here though, so you’re just as bewildered as Bree. But you’ve started to panic, trying to figure out how you’re gonna escape with no one seeing you. It would be humiliating to meet Spencer’s work family like this.

How the hell am I gonna get out from under the table without them knowing?

Don’t worry, I got this.

You hear the clicking of heels approaching and hear Bree talking to the team.

“We’re working on that table, why don’t I escort you all to the bar so you can see our drink menu.”

“I’ll wait here with you, Spence,” a male voice said.

“Damnit,” you mumble.

Now your escape was going to be even harder.

The majority of the voices fade away with Bree’s and you sighed, resigned to the fact that you’re going to be stuck under this table for a while.

You make a mental note not to listen to another one of Bree’s ideas.

“So, kid, did you tell Y/N that you were inviting us to your birthday dinner? We’re all so excited to meet her.”

“No,” Spencer answered the deep, older sounding voice, “I wanted to surprise her because I was afraid if I told her beforehand she’d stress out about meeting all of you.”

Well that explained that.

You were surprised alright. 

“How long have you been together now? Over a year? And we haven’t even met her yet? Are you sure you haven’t made her up?”

You bite your thumbnail trying your hardest not to laugh out loud.

“No, Rossi, I haven’t made her up. She’s real. Besides you know every time we tried to make plans something has come up.”

“Quite conveniently too, I might add.”

You already like this guy.

“She should be here soon,” Spencer said.

You catch a glimpse of him pulling his phone out of his pants pocket, positive he’s checking if there’s any missed texts or phone calls from you.

You guess now is the best time of any to make him aware of your presence. 

Your hand slides up his thigh and you choke back your cackle when he practically jumps ten feet in the air.

“Something wrong?” 

“Uh I dropped my phone under the table, let me just get it.”

His chair scoots back and he bends down under the table, pretending to retrieve his phantom fallen cell phone. His eyes widen when he sees you under the table. You give a meek smile and wave in return.

You point to your phone, miming texting to tell him that’s the only way you can talk without being found out.

“Oh found it. It fell against the wall.”

Spencer sits back up again, pulling his chair in as he settles.

“I think I’m gonna text Y/N, just so I can get her ETA,” Spencer says calmly.

He’s way too good at staying calm in situations, so you’re not too surprised that he sounds completely normal even though he just discovered his girlfriend curled up in an uncomfortable position, under a table in a restaurant.

I’m afraid to ask why you’re under the table.

That was one good thing about Spencer; he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. So instead of mocking you, embarrassing you or even being angry, he approached most things calmly. Although you’re sure he’s secretly dying of amusement over this. You’re positive this isn’t going to be the last time you hear about this.

Well, I was kinda hoping to surprise you for your birthday with a hot, secret blowjob...but it kinda blew up in my face instead of how you were supposed to.

You hear him snort above you which he quickly covers with a cough.

“Y/N should be here soon. She’s probably closer than she thinks.”

You hit his leg. What a smart ass he is, although technically he is a smart ass but that’s another story.

Help me get out of here. I don’t want to exactly pop out to meet your teammates like “hi I was just hiding out for a nice birthday sexcapade nice to meet you”.

Technically doesn’t that mean an illicit affair?

Spencer, we really need to introduce you to Urban Dictionary.

A chorus of voices approach the table.

“Any update on that table?” came a female voice.

“Nothing yet. But, uh, have you seen their amazing aquarium? Come on, I’ll show it to you!”

“I gotta head to the ladies room, I’ll find you at our new table.”

This voice was a different female voice from the first one.

You wait until the numerous voices get far enough from the table when you decide to peek from underneath the tablecloth. You curse, seeing a woman that looks a lot like what Bree described as the brunette boss lady walking in your direction. That was most definitely Spencer’s boss. 

You drop the tablecloth like it’s on fire, concealing yourself once again. You watch as the feet pass by the table and brave another look. Thankfully, it’s all clear.

You dash as fast as you towards the kitchen. If Bree is in there, your hands might find their way around her neck.

•

“Bree, that could’ve been disastrous!” you shriek, causing a few of the kitchen staff to peer over at you.

Sorry, you mouth, wincing.

“Well it’s not like Spencer is mad is it?” she asked, loading plates onto her tray.

“No, but he’s not going to let me live it down.”

“Hey, think of it this way. He’s gonna be thinking of that BJ the entire dinner,” she smirked.

“I’m never listening to another one of your hair brained ideas,” you grumbled.

“Hey, you’ll thank me later,” she sing-songed lifting the tray of food to her shoulder, “Now just go out the back kitchen door, walk around to the front of the restaurant and it will be like nothing ever happened.”

She was gone through the swinging doors in a jiff and you sighed, heading towards the back door.

•

It takes a whole ten minutes for you to circle the entire building before you finally reach the front doors. You attempted to compose yourself and straighten your red mini dress before entering and going to find the new table. You spot them a few minutes later and walk up nervously.

“There she is!”

Spencer’s face lights up when he sees you and suddenly you don’t feel as nervous as you did seconds before. He loved this group of people and that meant a lot to have a Spencer seal of approval. Maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Did you take the subway here?” Emily asked.

“Um, yes. That’s why I’m late, I’m so sorry.”

“I sure hope it wasn’t too crowded down there—I mean in there,” Spencer smirks.

You shoot him an exasperated look and are met with one of his thousand kilowatt smiles.

Turns out, dinner wasn’t so bad after all.

•

“You were right; they were all incredibly nice,” you say as you and Spencer walk in the door of your apartment, “I love them.”

“I knew you would,” he smiled.

“So, have you had a great birthday?”

“Well I’ve had quite the unusual one, that’s for sure.”

You stifle a groan as you kick off your heels in the hallway.

“I still can’t believe you actually hid under a table to surprise me.”

He’s already laughing again.

“I’m still gonna kill Bree.”

“Hey,” he grabs you by the arm, turning you towards him, “I’m incredibly flattered that you went to such lengths for me.”

“Really?” you asked timidly.

“Of course,” he smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Not every girlfriend would plan to blow their boyfriend in front of his coworkers.”

“Spencer!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he chuckled, leaning against the hallway wall, pulling you towards him and kissing you.

“Mm, well it is still your birthday, you know,” you say devilishly, biting his bottom lip gently then kissing him again.

You pull away, taking a hold of his tie before leading him to the bedroom. It takes a few minutes for you both to make it there as he stops you frequently to steal a kiss or two.

Finally at your destination, you push him against the closed bedroom door, fingers pulling off his tie. Your lips trail his jaw then neck, fingers fumbling over his button down. 

He chuckles amused, aiding you. Your mouth travels down his neck and over his chest, making slow work of your descent. He watches you closely as you fall to your knees, a kiss placed just above the waistline of his pants. Your hand comes up to press against the forming bulge in his pants and he groans lowly.

“I may not have been able to do this earlier, but we’ve got all the time in the world now,” you bite your lip and peer up at him innocently.

Popping the button and pulling his zipper down, you push his pants down over his hips. The edges of your fingers dip into the waistband of his underwear and you hear the sharp intake of his breath; you can tell how much he’s anticipating this.

Apparently Bree was right and he had been thinking about it all dinner long, especially if his small stolen touches under the table were any indicator. There would be a gentle touch on your thigh, slowly sliding just a bit too close towards your inner thigh; an arm wrapped around your back, his fingers just casually brushing the bottom swell of your breast. He had been ready for this hours ago and you were ready to give it to him.

Your eyes don’t leave his as the clothing is pulled downwards and you wrap a hand around him, squeezing just hard enough to cause his head to fall back with a dull thud against the door, a groan coming from deep in his throat.

You lean down, tongue swirling around the tip, agonizing slow, your fingertips ever so slightly tracing down his length.

“Oh god,” he groaned, “Don’t tease me, Y/N.”

“Not so fun when you're not the one dishing it out, now is it?”

He could be the ultimate tease in the bedroom, so this taste of his own medicine was long overdue.

Your tongue swirls around him before taking him in your mouth, his moan of relief and pleasure filling your ears. 

With hollowed cheeks, you alternate your speed and pressure, keeping him on his toes, making your next move unpredictable to him.

“Baby, please.”

His moans are louder and more frequent as his hand moves into your hair. You look up through your lashes as you work him, keeping your gaze locked on him. You think you actually hear him whimper.

Your hand pumps the rest of him, your wrist turning as your mouth moves on him, your tongue whirling as if you’re enjoying a favorite ice cream cone.

His hand tightens in your hair and you can tell he’s close to losing all control. 

“Y/N, Y/N, fuck, fuuuuck,” he groans finally letting go and succumbing to his ecstasy.

You take all he has in stride, discreetly wiping your mouth when you pull back although you’re sure he’s too dazed to notice.

“Happy birthday to me,” Spencer mumbles, pulling you to your feet and kissing you.

You break the chaste kiss, backing up towards the bed.

“Well lucky for you, there’s still three and a half hours left of your birthday. How about we do a little more celebrating?”

It takes him all of two steps to cross the room and take you in his arms, causing you to giggle.

Yeah, this would be a birthday he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

Tag List: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @whatspunispun​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​@hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​

[shintorikhazumi]

I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 3: Three Sisters, Many Scars, and A Day Out

A/N: Warning! Long? Longer than usual? Chapter? I already split it into 2, mind you. Wasn’t able to hold back. Haha. Sorry bout that. Sorry if this took too long as well. Some of you may have seen my crazy activity in LWA recently. I also have college starting up again so… really, many apologies.

I like to think Claudine is very sweet and gentle with Diana, but very cheeky with Weiss. And Weiss is soft and awkward with Diana, and is almost always fondly annoyed with Claudine. And Diana just loves them both because her younger sisters are so pretty and nice to her and they make her breakfast, and they aren’t anything like the cold, abusive people her old family was like.

I don’t drink coffee so I had to google, “coffee maker parts” for this chapter, though I doubt I used that knowledge lmao.

Their house kind of has a kitchen connected to the living room. Kind of like… the Starlight dorm’s? Wait I don’t remember.

This also got  delayed coz my dog died a while ago during the time I wrote this, and I felt like shit. So. Yep. But it’s alright now!

Also, I know I said love interests maybe at chapter 3, but this was getting too long so I had to move it to the next chapter which is already half done and will be up shortly after this one! Maybe by tomorrow or within next week, hopefully, because a storm is coming to our area. Might have no power. But for sure the three silly (in their own way) brunettes will be there. Definitely!

NOT BETA’D AS ALWAYS! :> I’m… I’m shy about asking for betas.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

School.

Right. That was a thing.

And it was going to start in about two to barely three weeks from now. It was enrollment season for many, and that did not exclude the university Claudine and Weiss were to attend soon. They had been discussing this in the kitchen as they prepared breakfast, Diana still deep in slumber. The girl seemed to sleep in often these days, but well… that was mostly the fault of the two younger sisters.

During one of their chats, they had learned that Diana had always been overworked as a child (just like a certain someone Claudine knew), and had rarely had the chance to rest. They took this opportunity of freedom to give her just that. Even if that freedom basically spelled out how little their father cared about them. So long as they were still alive, he’d have many cases lay off his back. Well, they didn’t care for him either, so it was more advantageous for them to have little to worry about with many things provided for them without strings attached. Being able to do what they wanted was a perk they were willing to make the most out of.

Still, it was nearing school time and they had realized that they were yet to hear of Diana’s plans in terms of studying. Weiss and Claudine had already been enrolled by their father in the aforementioned university which specialized in the arts; the man had done his research on Claudine, it seemed. But as for Diana, the pair had no clue of her status in terms of going to school again, nor could they recall her mentioning any course she was interested in- other than their limited knowledge of her relationship with medicine from articles they’d seen, and stories they’d heard from the girl herself. But was that still an option at this point? What did Diana want to do; she hadn’t mentioned any plans to continue pursuing it, had she?

Huh. That was odd. Considering all the talking they had done these past few days, attempts at getting to know each other better, it seems they had yet to know enough about their housemates.

As if summoned by their silent inquiries, Diana appeared on the threshold to the connected living room and kitchen, rubbing drowsiness away from her tired-looking eyes. On an odd sense of instinct, Claudine walked over to the sleep-addled woman still stuck by the doorway, blinking in confusion, as if wondering about where she was, what she was doing, and why there were two ladies cooking what looked to be breakfast for her.

“That’s because we are cooking breakfast for you. And for us too.” Claudine giggled softly at Diana speaking her thoughts out loud; taking the latter’s hand, she patted a few difficult strands of curly hair down with the other, and began righting Diana’s appearance- her shirt and cardigan slipping off her shoulder while her slippers were on the wrong feet- and the former heiress quite liked that, being pampered. She never really was despite having so many maids in her previous home. She also liked this person who was guiding her to take a seat at this nice wooden table, and this equally nice person had given her a cup of some very nice coffee. “I hope this will wake you up some. You truly are an odd child.”

Diana nodded her thanks, taking a sip from the mug that had her name on it (she really liked that) and a regal picture of a unicorn because Diana Cavendish was not that childish. It was a little sweet, and she liked that too. Very unlike all the bitterness she’d forced down her throat as she toiled nights away for the sake of her family. This was a nice change.

But who were these ladies?

“You know, you’ve asked us the same question almost every morning when you wake up.” Weiss sighed fondly, already accustomed to Diana’s odd habit of speaking her mind, as well as being so lost to the world in the mornings. The first time it had happened, Claudine and Weiss had thought that Diana was talking to them. Apparently, that was not the case. “At this point, we’ll have lived together for twenty or so years and you’d probably still ask.” The silver-haired girl made her way to the table, placing down some pancakes as Claudine followed suit with some eggs and bacon.

“Maybe there’s nothing quite memorable about you, then.” The golden-blonde teased, biting back a hiss as Weiss smacked her shoulder. “Brutal…”

“You’re brutal.” Weiss flipped her hair over her shoulder, before taking one of Diana and Claudine’s hands in each of her own. “The other day-”

“That was one time! And that man was committing theft. Were we supposed to let him run away?” Claudine defended, slightly offended.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be capable of smashing through concrete-“ Weiss was cut off by the soft, sleepy voice that was Diana, along with a grumbling stomach from the now-blushing girl.

“G-grace…” She reminded, and the two halted their bickering, smiling at Diana while rolling their eyes at one another playfully.

After saying grace for their meal, they dug in, the younger sisters secretly enjoying the many emotions that passed through Diana’s face every meal. It reminded them of when they had gotten burgers for the first time. Weiss admitted she was the same before Winter had snuck in some of the world’s greatest (and unhealthiest) fast-food delicacies, but did she really look like this at the time? Diana never having tasted cheap bacon was preposterous!

But they reminded themselves not to go overboard with junk food and cheap meats. They had health to consider after all, as pleasant as it was to spoil their older sister.

The meal went on as it always did in this household, a few chats here and there, some random inquiries, Diana booting up her awareness as the sleepiness slowly faded away, remembering that she now had two siblings to live her life with each day until who knows when. A wonderful affair as always.

Finishing her breakfast first, Diana stood up to take her plate to the sink for washing. Still feeling slightly out of it, she spotted the coffee maker still half-full with coffee and thought it would probably do her some good to have another cup.

Placing her dishes in the sink, she reached over to grab the carafe, overhearing her sisters’ chatter and turning around to watch them as she poured the liquid into her mug, she felt familiar tremors in her right hand, a warning siren going off in her head as the pain that immediately shot through it caused her to hiss and drop both her mug and the glass jug containing relatively hot coffee, both items crashing into pieces against the kitchen isle floor. Such a loud racket alerted her siblings who rushed to her side in a split second.

“DIANA?!”

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Diana felt her whole body shake along with her hands, but mostly out of fear than anything else. She’d messed up again. She’d broken something that wasn’t hers, she’d made a mess on the floor, and she’d ruined the adorable pony slippers Claudine had been nice enough to secretly get her after she stared at them for nearly twenty minutes on a department store shelf. They were probably mad. Claudine and Weiss. They would no longer be kind to her after her mistake. And after a mistake… a punishment. That’s what was next. Always. Diana knew this in her very soul.

“S-s-sorry…” Stuttering out an apology, she bent down to pick up the broken shards, ready to clean up before she was beaten; maybe if she fixed her own messes and prostrate before them, she’d receive their mercy-

“DON’T TOUCH IT, YOU IDIOT!” She saw the hand come quick, her eyes bracing themselves shut, waiting for the hit to come…

…but it never did. Weiss held her hand up carefully, pulling her out of her slightly crouched position she had subconsciously gotten into.

“Claudine, could you like, take her to the sofa before she gets hurt even more? I’ll do the clearing.”

“Can a princess do something like that?” The youngest still teased, but worry was interlaced into her tone. Weiss scoffed at that.

“If you have time to entertain me with your jokes, make sure Diana is fine instead.” Weiss playfully kicked Claudine’s butt, getting her to move along, pushing Diana in front of her with careful guidance.

Once the trembling girl had been situated on their couch, Claudine began checking for any visible injuries on her elder sister’s hands and feet, sighing in relief when she had found none. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Burns? Cuts?” She asked for good measure. Seeing Diana shake her head no, Claudine gave a sigh of relief, turning around to tell Weiss that all was well, and that she’d be going to draw a bath for Diana and get her a change of clothes and wash the soiled garments and slippers.

Before she could leave, a hand caught the edge of her shirt, still quivering lightly. Her heart clenched at the quiet, broken voice, and equally broken question. “You’re not going to hurt me?”

It looked like Weiss had heard the question too considering the sounds of running tap water from the kitchen suddenly stopped.

A frown came over the actress’ features, and that seemed to have scared Diana even more. Claudine immediately noticed, switching to a softer but still worried question as she crouched down in front of the sad girl, hands rubbing gently over her knees before taking shaky hands in hers.

“Why would we?” She asked in a whisper. Weiss may not have been able to hear them, but she continued to watch the exchange, leaning back against the sink, arms crossed, brows furrowed. If anything were to happen or she was needed, she’d rush right over. For now, she’d let her younger sibling deal with it as she seemed to be better at these things.

“Because… I made a mistake… I broke things… and the slippers…” Tears welled up in Diana’s eyes, and two hearts clenched in painful sympathy.

“No, no, no. Sweetheart. That was an accident, that wasn’t your fault.” Claudine frantically wiped away the running tears, signaling to Weiss for some tissues. “Okay? Okay? You can keep crying if it makes you feel better, but we’d rather you calm down and take a bath now so that you can relax and not have to think about any bad things, okay?”

The younger girls did not know what the hell Diana’s family had put her through, but they’d wreak havoc and bring that hell right back to them if they had to. This was outright abuse! For such a lovely lady like Diana to be scarred this deeply, both physically and psychologically, it was just so wrong in many ways.

Keeping their fury reigned in, they gently coaxed Diana into taking the much-needed bath, closing the door with a reminder to call for either one of them should anything come up. With the assurance that Diana could take care of herself for a few minutes, they made their way back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

“I swear, I’ll be put in prison for murder one of these days.” Weiss muttered, squeezing the sponge a bit too tightly, froth covering her hand.

“If you’re going to kill someone for Diana’s sake, at least don’t get caught.” Claudine shot back, though the nails digging into her palm spoke a lot about how much she agreed with Weiss’ sentiments.

With everything in place, and the accident laid to rest, the pair plopped on to the couch, sighing out their internal tension.

“I wonder… about what else happened with Diana… Now that I think about it, we never really got to know much about her.” Weiss mused, referring to the incident many nights ago, on their first day together, when Diana had that nightmare. “Cavendish…” Weiss recalled to the time when they had checked the woman’s identification after she’d fainted at their door. Really. All her first memories with Diana weren’t the greatest. Though she could probably say that it was the same for all of them towards one another.

“I did some research on that.” Claudine shared, pulling out her phone and showing it to the silver-haired woman. “Cavendish Medical. Diana did say that her family was of the elite type.” A short groan escaped before the woman continued. “But one of the largest medical chains internationally at that, somehow I can now see why Diana ended up like that. I also somehow get why her face isn’t so well-known despite this fact.”

Weiss moaned out her frustrated pain as well, understanding where this was getting at. “It’s that shitty old man, isn’t it? Because she’s an illegitimate child and all that jazz?” Slapping her knee, she stood up in irritation. “Couldn’t they have just, like, adopted her or something then? And she isn’t completely Unrelated to them. What the hell.”

“I can see that the two of you have certainly been through that. ‘Heiress’ stuff and all.” Claudine made a random circular motion in the air. “Schnee Digital Corporation.”

“Can we not talk about this?”

“Sure.”

“…”

“How rare of you not to continue your taunts.”

“I know how stressed one can get in the presence of an infuriating woman.”

Weiss laughed at that, not really getting it, but she felt like she would in the near future. It never hurt to ask anyway, though. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I know how to shut up when I have to.” Claudine laughed along, shaking her thoughts clear of a certain regular intruder in her mind.

As the two slumped against their couch in comfortable silence, they heard the muffled sound of a voice from behind a door interrupting their hush. “I… I think my hair got s-stuck.” And that was enough reason for them to get up and walk over to the bathroom, only to see Diana struggling with the shower head, hair tangled about it while she sat in the tub. How that happened, they had no clue.

“Just what are you up to?” Weiss muttered under her breath, moving towards Diana anyway, gently detaching light-green curls from metal.

“I’m sorry…”

With an affectionate sigh, Claudine sat herself on a stool by the tub, taking the showerhead from Weiss. “Come on, let us help you finish. We don’t want any more mishaps.”

“I- I can… bathe myself.”

“We know you can. But we want to help.”

“B-but!” And they felt the girl in their hands tense, curling into herself just as she did many times before, as if to hide herself. And as their sight registered why, with clarity, their hearts bled.

They hadn’t noticed it as clearly before, but now there was nothing to cover the many scars that littered over the surface of ivory skin. There were a few bruises that were beginning to heal, and they couldn’t help but wonder if those were inflicted right before Diana escaped to the peace they now lived in. With clenched teeth, Weiss grabbed a bottle of conditioner, channeling her anger to her fingers as she squeezed the bottles contents into her hand and tenderly ran her fingers through curled locks.

Diana’s hair smelled of the scent of the shampoo they bought from a local mart, but her hair, as nice as it was, didn’t have that certain slippery-smooth feel. So Weiss believed this was the next step the girl was about to do.

Claudine reached for the shower setting knob, spraying her hand with water as she adjusted the temperature to the perfect degree of comfort before rinsing the soap off her older sister’s back. She grimaced at the sight of more scars. They were a vast variety. Long, short, wide, thin… it made her sick to know that people truly could lack the heart to be able to inflict so much pain on an individual.

They worked in careful silence, the younger sisters working their hands gently and efficiently. Diana would occasionally jolt, wince, or whimper, and the pair would have to force their frowns away as to not cause the eldest further anxiety.

As the last drop of water fell into the tub, they stood Diana up and helped her dry off, covering her body with a bathrobe as they moved to the girl’s bedroom to get her hair dried completely, and get her changed into comfortable wear.

Diana was grateful for their help. Really she was, but as she changed, she could feel the two worried gazes scanning nearly every patch of skin visible to their eyes as she slowly covered it up with her attire for the day. It unnerved her, it felt like she was back to being strictly monitored.

They must have realized her discomfort as they eased off, Weiss picking a brush up by the vanity, and Claudine sitting her down in front of it. “How about we fix you up? We have plans to go out for today, so maybe you could join us?” The latter proposed as both grinned, Weiss looking up hairstyles that would suit Diana’s choice of clothing for today.

“I- um... okay.” At first hesitant, but eventually relenting, the white-haired heiress got to work, trying her best to mimic the guide on her phone.

It was a silent affair, almost torturous for the eldest as she dared not look into the mirror lest she meet Claudine’s eyes, ever observant and watching over her. Soon enough, however, the ticking of the clock and the feel of the brush smoothing over her waves soothed Diana little-by-little, her breathing slowing as if she were being lulled to sleep.

And then that silence broke.

“Diana… “ It was soft, nearly a whisper, but not quite that. It was a shy call, something rare from the ever-confident Claudine that Diana had come to know. Then again, this was also the incredibly tender blonde she’s lived with the past few days. In that sense, she was very familiar.

“Y-yes?”

Kneeling down next to her vanity’s stool, Diana held a hand, still looking at Diana through the mirror. There was a secret twitch of nervousness on her hand, then a barely audible deep breath, as if the youngest was preparing her heart for a deep confession. Diana felt herself tense. “Diana... Could you tell us about your family? About you?” A shaky breath. “...a-about... your scars.”

She must’ve reacted in a worrisome way, as there was an immediate follow-up to that.

“Oh! You don’t have to force yourself if you don’t want to! If it hurts to talk about it then we can drop this.” Claudine frantically spat out, the touch of her skin feeling a bit warmer. “You don’t have to do it against your will. We were just worried and... those kinds of.. marks are definitely not normal- oh but we’d understand if they are too traumatizing that you’d rather not even recall them, much less speak of them-” She rambled on.

They were kind. So kind. Weiss hadn’t said anything yet, but Diana just knew she was the same. It was warm. Maybe she could trust them. If it were them... surely...

“Diana?”

Shaking her head to ease their anxieties, she flipped her hand over, palm meeting Claudine’s as she clasped her hand tighter than she planned.

“It’s... I... I want to. I want to tell you... because maybe... maybe you can... assist me.”

Two heads nodded, indicating that they were all ears. Feeling their sincerity, a smile grew on Diana’s face. With a deep intake of air, she began her story.

She had been borne healthy and full of potential, an intelligent baby, it seemed. However, potential or talent did not matter. Not to a family as traditional and tight-laced as the renown Cavendish House. A pregnancy out of wedlock was shame to the family, regardless of who the opposite party was, how rich, or how powerfully influential they were.

Why would such large figures care about money and frivolous social stances when they had their own more-than-fair share? Not to mention, Jacques Schnee was infamous despite all accolades. He was never a pleasing prospect to their great family.

And then one day, he pulled away, severing all ties to Diana and her mother. This had complicated their relationship to the main family even more, and hence they were sent to the branch house in Japan, living the rest of their days there. Until now.

“Do you... know how your parents met?” Weiss asked. Diana shook her head, no. She had never had the chance to really ask her mother as she had died when she was quite young, young enough to not have sense of the world yet; too young to comprehend her unfavorable situation.

Claudine couldn’t imagine how Diana felt. Though on the brink of losing her, she still had her mother, and had had the pleasure of being raised by the wonderful woman that she was; nurtured into what she was today. But Diana... Oh, Diana.

“After my mother passed, my aunt and cousins moved into the same house. My aunt claimed that she had been sent by the main family to... ‘rear’ me into the Cavendish I was expected to become.” A flash of fear passed blue irises, the speaker’s breath hastening noticeably. “Then the... scars. Their story. She...”

Unable to handle it any longer, Claudine lunged forward, wrapping the trembling girl in her arms, shushing her and soothing her, telling her it was enough. That she could stop if it hurt too much. Still, Diana wanted to carry on. She had finally found her voice to speak. She did not want to lose this chance. She wanted these people, ones she’d known less than her own similar-named kin, to understand. Because she knew that they would. That they would try. She wanted to try as well.

“When I turned fourteen, I had a grown slightly aware of my situation. I overheard maids gossip that my aunt, she had loathed my mother for years as the latter was more favored as the next matriarchal head. When the whole fiasco happened, she jumped at the chance to attain her most desired wish. Unfortunately for her, she still was not deemed good enough. And I... I was.”

A pause.

“...She took it all out on me. She defended that it was simply discipline. She claimed that she was refining me through the harshest challenges so I would be prepared for how the world truly worked. But all of that was clearly masked-”

“Abuse.” The pair responded, hearts heavy.

“Yes. But I was so deep in submission and mindless obedience that I could do nothing.” Then her eyes went steely cold. “One night, she had gotten herself intoxicated. She had apparently gone back to the main manor to ask for their reconsideration, but was vehemently rejected. I had taken an important mock exam that day, but had one single mistake... She said it wasn’t good enough. She went mad. She said... she’d teach me that perfection-it was the only way I’d ever attain what I wanted the most.”

Diana frowned.

“I now know that she actually meant, what she wanted the most. I’d rather have no part in it. But it was too late.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Diana saw the vivid flames of the fireplace, the dark room; she could smell the awful stench of cheap wine and burning papers. Worst of all, she could almost feel it again. “The metal whip she would constantly beat me with... on that night, she had heated it in the coals... she was deeply lost. Dreadfully so. She took my hand and said...

‘I hope this mark haunts you ‘til the day you die. That you’ll never be what you were destined to be.’”

Diana’s eyes fluttered open, cold as they were when they closed, face hardened and emotionless. She was now numb. There was no longer any pain to hold her back from divulging her deep darkness within.

“Father...” The word was so distasteful, they all cringed deep down. So unfamiliar and... wrong. “He knew about my... condition.” Two pairs of eyes saw that scarred hand go knuckles-white with their grip. “He said so in the letter, and he told me that... there wasn’t much use in re-enrolling me in a medical school  if my own family threw me away after finding out.”

“Finding out?”

“As you saw earlier, my hands have the tendency to suddenly shake, and my right...” Diana stared into her open palm in depression, clenching it into a fist frustratedly. “-the doctors said that my aunt had destroyed nerves needed for the finer motor functions of my hand. The tremors are no good. My family wanted me to become a surgeon for whatever field. I... can’t do that.” She smiled through a grimace.

“Diana...”

“So he told me to do whatever I wanted. The money was... there and all.”

Weiss grit her teeth, fury stirring up within her at the man’s utter lack of delicacy and consideration. It was cruel, how he threw Diana’s pains right at her face, thinking it could be solved with money and she’d feel chipper about it right away. He was always like that.

It wasn’t because their father ever cared about Diana’s background or family affairs that he gave her the freedom of choice; so probably by hearing rumors about Diana and her hand, he couldn’t be bothered to even help her out, leaving her to decide in her lost, unknowing state. How could everyone leave her to choose for herself after controlling her every action, thought, and future? And all of a sudden, as she became useless to them, drop her like a rag doll to do what she wanted. She no longer even knew what she wanted, much less know how to desire something, most likely!

“That’s it.” Weiss bit. “That’s enough, Diana.” She placed the brush down with a light thud. The sound must have scared the poor girl as she apologized profusely right away.

“S-sorry! You must not have liked my story; it must have been burdensome to hear something as depressing as that. I won’t speak a word of it ever again!”

“Diana.” Claudine called, cradling scarred hands in her own. “I don’t believe Weiss meant that in any mean way towards you. She just can’t bear to hear how hurt you are anymore, not right now. But we promise, we will continue to listen to you if you want to open up.” She ran her thumbs gently over fading lines, studying them intensely, before looking up to meet Diana’s eyes. “But right now, we think you need a break. Some fresh air.”

Diana nodded, finally noticing the sweat trickling down her brow, how her breathing was a little labored, and how flushed she felt.

“You’re shaking. Diana.” Claudine said sadly, reaching up to brush stray strands of hair away from Diana’s forehead. “Let’s have a change of pace.” Claudine smiled. “Weiss?”

They heard an audible huff come from the girl, before she nodded. “Fifteen minutes, then we can go.”

Claudine nodded back in agreement, rising up and pulling Diana along with her, getting ready to lead her to the hall. “We’ll go get our shoes on.”

“Great, you do that while I call for a car.” Weiss responded with a wave of her hand, phone already to her ear.

“…”

“...car?”

//-//-//-//-//

Impressive. Weiss’ car was.

Diana wasn’t one to be interested in such things, but staring at the pristine silvery white with royal to dark blue accents, she would say it was beautiful. Did people call cars beautiful? Or was Diana just odd, as she always was?

She heard Claudine whistle appreciatively. Maybe it was normal.

“How did you even get this here?”

“Had a worker bring it over.”

“From where??? So fast?!”

“Look, I don’t know the details, but this is just another way our… dude… squanders his money. He wants his children to, at least, look the part of being supported publicly. Stupid, but I’m grateful I have a car. Not to him, but to the universe or whatever.”

Claudine chuckled. “You really hate him, don’t you.”

“Absolutely.”

“Same.”

They shared a grin, before the French guided the eldest into the back seat, closing the car door securely before riding shotgun next to a Weiss tinkering with the stereo. Just as she clicked the seatbelt lock in place, Weiss chose her song and the car revved to life.

“This one goes to that bastard old man!” She yelled out her window. “FUCK YOU!”

“Th-there was an existing song with a title such as that?” Diana muttered from the back.

“Is that an appropriate song in this context?” Claudine laughed harder, amused by how crazy a driver Weiss was.

“Who cares? I just wanna flip him off.”

“Totally understandable.”

And they were off.

//-//-//-//-//

Claudine and Weiss knew they were supposed to head off to school right away to finalize some enrollment details, and pick up a few things besides their uniforms, but with the topic floating around earlier, and with Diana not knowing what direction to take academic-wise, they decided they could spend a little bit of time at the mall to divert her attention from all the bad things, then maybe over lunch, attempt a more pleasant discussion regarding school plans.

Also, something had been bothering the pair after they’d gone through Diana’s closet earlier in search of her outfit for the day. While she certainly wasn’t lacking wardrobe, the variety of clothes she had left much to be desired.

They were mostly formal clothes- gowns and dresses, some sleeping wear, a few blouses and dress shirts that didn’t seem like they’d be very breathable on a regular day out,  and a few slacks and pants. A few meaning… two pairs each.

It was almost as if Diana only ever got dressed to meet important people, and to attend lavish events. Probably not too far from the truth. Thus, she might not have needed anything akin to ‘party’ or ‘casual’, or even ‘sporty’ wear. They had found a few jogging pants in the far back, but they seemed worse for wear and only to be used for exercising and/or sleeping.

They were lucky enough to get her dressed in a loose-fitting pale blue button up, sleeves rolled up, because, “No Diana, you will not be buttoning up your cuffs and choking yourself with a damn thick tie, and you don’t need to wear a suit everywhere you go. You’re not going out for an interview.” , paired with one of her two pairs of jeans- a dark denim.

That would have to do. To top it- or bottom? Or round it all off, They had her wear some open-toed shoes, sandals with a little wedged heel at the back.

She was pretty. It worked. Even a sack of rice would have worked for someone as beautiful as Diana.

They would never make her try that though.

So after Weiss had dragged a completely bewildered Diana through all twelve of her favorite shops, they were now sat in a small cafe on the second floor, enjoying their slightly-late lunch.

Diana sipped on her tea like the little miss that she was, delicately placing the cup back down before cutting into her meal with all the grace and poise of some great medieval aristocrat that probably ate up all the etiquette books. Her back was ramrod straight, but somehow managing to look relaxed. She was this picture of elegance, and Claudine had already ran out of fingers to count how many people had stopped and done a double-take as they passed by their group’s table.

Weiss, as fiery and at times uncouth as she was with her language, and some mannerisms, proved to have some semblance of the same type of upbringing. And while Claudine grew up learning all these manners as well, the knowledge of them important for events at Seishou, she could not deny how stifling it all felt.

Should she have ordered something more… ‘graceful’  than her tuna panini?

“Um…” Immediately, she caught both girl’s attention, their eyes focused on her. “So…”

“So?” Weiss parroted, placing her fork down.

‘Huh? Wait a second, Claudine Saijou, what were you supposed to be doing, again?’  What had she wanted to say again? Or did she not really want to say anything, and simply wanted to escape this awkward atmosphere? Why were they in this situation? Why were they having lunch at the mall? Why were they outside? Why…

“Ah-”

“Ah.” Diana repeated this time. “Ah?”

School. They were supposed to be out today to attend to matters for school. School that was starting very soon.

“School.”

“School.” The pair mimicked.

“School!” Claudine raised her hands up, fork still in one of them and dropping a portion of her pastry on the table.

Weiss was about to scold her, before her eyes widened in realization. “SCHOOL!”

“School?” Diana was still confused, but seeing her sisters hurriedly finish their lunch pressured her to do the same, even if she didn’t have much to finish.

“Oh my god, I got too carried away. What time is it, Claudine?” Weiss mumbled, polishing off her plate, and still dabbing her face with a napkin like the true lady she was.

Claudine took a peek at her wristwatch. “Eh, uh.. umm, huh? Wait… it’s almost three?! Weiss! Office hours end soon! And we still have to get to the school!”

“We’ll get there!” Weiss replied, calling for the check, and rummaging through her bag for her wallet. Placing just enough bills to cover their expenses and leaving the change as a tip, the three girls rushed to the car-or well, two girls rushed to a car, dragging a third, clueless one behind them.

Weiss got her engine roaring to life and speeding down the highway (at an acceptable pace, because they were in a rush, not criminals), and managed to get to their school supposedly twenty minutes away, in under fifteen.

Claudine thought she would die with how Weiss drove in their mad run to make it to the university.

“We… we-” She wheezed, hand clutching at her chest. “We could have… I thought I died.” She knelt on the ground, as if praying. “Devil driver.”

“Shut it! You try chasing after time while in that kind of traffic.”

Claudine just waved her off with a hand, breathing still labored. “N-Never again. Never get distracted again.”

“Agreed.” Weiss huffed, locking the car with a click.

Diana stood there, hair slightly frazzled, but still looking the picture of dignity and grace. Weiss had a few wrinkles in her blouse, but otherwise was sparkling perfect. Claudine wondered how the hell they managed that after such a wild ride, at the same time hoping she didn’t look like the mess she felt she was in comparison to the two’s appearances. Really, what was it with heiresses and their impossible-to-ruin looks.

“Okay, children, chop-chop. It’s just about three-fifteen, and we can only guess what kind of terrible lines enrollment season summons. I do not want to find myself standing for an hour amongst seas of people.”

“Chil-” Claudine was about to protest, but decided against wasting more time, getting up and grabbing Diana by the hand and leading her behind Weiss.

This day wasn’t turning out quite as they had planned. Or didn’t plan.

//-//-//-//-//

So they had forgotten one little detail. Well, not little. More like… universal.

“Sorry, li’l ladies; but offices are closed for today. It’s Sunday, my dears.” The old gatekeeper chuckled at the surprised faces of girls who looked like they were just told that all their efforts of rushing had been in vain because… all their efforts of rushing had been in vain. “I wouldn’t blame you, however. Y’all look like you aren’t from around here, fancy-looking hair colors and all. I don’t know if it works different from where you come from, but over here, we don’t usually come to the office on a Sunday.”

Claudine just panted, making an incoherent sound of surprise. Was there really such a thing? She’d always walked into Seishou any day of the week, without rest- ah. Maybe she was just a crazy workaholic, then.

“Well, some schools prob’ly allow students to pick things up, but as for transactions and in-person meet-ups, I don’t think you little ladies have much luck. The headmaster of this school, at least, made sure that workers get Sundays with their families. Policy thing and all. It’s on somethin’ called a ‘webpage’? My granddaughter showed me yesterday, most bizarre thing I’ve seen.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Weiss, ever the spokeswoman of the group, nodded, taking note to look up said school’s webpage. They should have done so sooner.

“Sorry, girls.”

“O-oh, no, not at all. We don’t mind. We were… we actually- we were supposed to know this, yes.” Weiss stammered out. “We simply forgot is all.”

“Haha! Well, that’s all right, happens. You’re free to come back tomorrow, though. Although I advise you to come at a time waaay earlier than right now.” He winked.

“Thank you. We’ll remember that.” Weiss replied with a professional smile in place to end the conversation, just like she’d been taught in interaction. It may have seemed a little cold, but that was just something she was used to doing. She did enjoy the man’s quirky sweetness, though she’d never let it show.

The three made their slow walk back to car, no longer rushing for anything in particular. It was the low one experienced after the adrenaline rush. Well, it was time to head home anyway. They could afford to be a little relaxed.

“Weiss?” Claudine called as the car beeped unlock.

“Hmm?”

“Can you drive better this time?”

“…”

“Now listen here-”

//-//-//-//-//

Home.

They were finally home.

Right away, Weiss had sunk into the welcoming softness of their couch, subsequently switching on the television once she’d found the remote. Laying on her back, with legs hanging over one of the armrests, she listened to- more than watched- the steady drone of some random channel while hearing Claudine chopping away in the kitchen in the background.

Diana had gone straight to the bedroom to drop off her ‘spoils of war’, as Weiss had put it. For a rich girl, she was good at talking down prices to a bargain. It was truly a horrific war that reoccurred in each shop they visited, Diana’s feet sore and tired, and all she’d done was walk after Weiss.

For a few hours.

Returning to the common room, Diana spotted Claudine stirring what appeared to be a soup. It smelled amazing, and Diana felt her mouth water. She’d never really been excited for food back at her old home- er… houses, regardless of how extravagant every meal was. Here, however, the simplest grilled cheese had her taste buds squealing in delight, pleasured by the flavors and sensations of even the simplest dish.

Dishes made with tenderness, love, and care.

While waiting, Diana decided to take a seat on the sofa, joining Weiss in her... staring at the TV. They weren’t viewing anything in particular, not really paying attention. Weiss had begun to flip through the channels, Diana listening to the audible clicks of remote buttons. Boring shows, corny jokes, generated laughter were presented in entertainment and comedy channels. They both jolted in their spots as Weiss had jumped to an action channel that had just had some loud explosion go off, the volume up high enough to feel that sound blast through their entire body.

A few more button clicks, many more channels browsed; Weiss and Diana were growing more and more bored. Was Claudine done with dinner yet? Nothing interesting was showing anymore-

[“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”]

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“A-A-AAAAHHHH!”

Three ear-shattering screeches filled the room in succession, making Claudine drop her ladel, whipping her head to check if all was alright. “Diana?! Weiss?!” She called, walking around the isle towards the couch. Then she saw two figures glued to one another in tight embrace, crouching into each other. That did not look comfortable. Turning her eyes to the TV playing some generic horror music of violin murder to accompany the scene of a bloodied, toothless woman, and it all clicked.

And she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pfft-” She attempted to cover her mouth, but to no avail. “AHA-pfff- I- I know I shouldn’t laugh, but-ha...ha...HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, what are you two doing?!” Claudine wiped a tear from her eye, walking the last few steps to stand behind the couch, patting two shivering heads. “Got scared?” She grinned, voice teasing while waiting for that spiteful response from one Weiss Schnee.

“S-scared?! No! N-no, I’m not s-scared! Says who? Huh? Come fight me!”

She got exactly what she desired, giggling in amusement as she stared back in challenge, right into glaring icy blues that could cut. She was beginning to ask herself if this was how a certain partner of hers always felt when messing with her. It made a little more sense. Wasn’t any less infuriating, though.

They held their gazes for a time, before Weiss sighed, backing off as she felt the trembling bundle still in her arms. Claudine also turned her attention there, worried. She picked up the remote from its fallen spot on the floor, switching to a shopping channel with elevator music. Great. The most boring of all channels. Hopefully it would be calming and uneventful enough. They had had enough surprises for one night.

“I’ll get back to cooking. You got her?” Claudine asked softly. Weiss nodded in response, and the youngest went off to finish her task; hopefully dinner would shift their gears for the night.

While she did that, Weiss had settled her back against the couch, Diana still quivering in her hold. She opted to rub comforting circles onto the poor girl’s back, hoping she’d feel better soon.

“You okay?”

A nod.

“You sure?”

Another nod.

“Don’t deal well with horror?”

“...It’s not that.” Diana separated herself from Weiss, now leaning against the backrest as well, staring blankly at the glowing screen. Weiss took note of how Diana’s hand was tucked safely in hers, and felt her lips tip up in a smile. “There was just so much blood.”

“Hmm… but weren’t you going to be a surgeon?” Weiss regretted the reminder as she felt the hand in hers flinch, along with the next words that left Diana’s lips.

“The blood just… reminded me of my own…”

They could hear something metallic dropping on the floor from the kitchen, along with a soft mumbled apology.

Weiss didn’t want to dwell on this topic any longer, not wanting Diana to remember more hurtful memories, simply humming and ending that particular conversation right there. The pair ended up watching a salesman trying to convince them that brooms weren’t made for sweeping, only flying, and since no one could fly, brooms were irrelevant, thus one should buy a vacuum cleaner instead for the home.

“That logic is stupid!” Claudine yelled from the kitchen, revealing that she had been casually listening to all that was going on in the living room. It was her way of looking out for the two in case something happened. While she trusted them that they were no longer going to enter any screaming sessions, one could never be too careful.

Silence reigned over them once more as more products were revealed in the show. The occasional scoff would be heard from Weiss or Claudine about ridiculous prices, or fake specs, but other than those sounds there wasn’t much.

Eventually, Diana had taken control over the remote and flipped to a children’s cartoon; some low-budget show, maybe? ‘Shiny Chariot and The Mystical Bear’, the episode’s title flashed across the screen. Weiss was about to comment on how bad the show might turn out to be, but sealed her mouth shut as she noticed Diana’s eyes glued to the screen, almost sparkling. Did she like things like this?

Hmm…

Time ticked past bit by bit, the occasional flash from the television would throw splashes of the shows vibrant colors onto parts of the room, then fade. Each time, Diana would gasp, and her hands would move, almost as if she were about to clap. It was adorable, Weiss thought. But she was also thinking of something else. A thought that had never left her mind for even a single moment that day.

“Hey, Diana?”

“Yes?” The girl responded, eyes never leaving the screen.

“What about you?”

Diana stole her attention away from the blaring display, turning down the volume with the remote in her good hand, tilting her head to the side in confusion at the question. “What about me?”

“Well,” Weiss exchanged a glance with Claudine who was ever aware, and all-ears on this conversation. They had to ask eventually, right? Hopefully it wasn’t a bad time, nor a sensitive topic.

“Weiss?”

With a slow intake of air, Weiss met similar-colored eyes, trying to look as gentle as possible, voice equally soft. “School. Studies. What do you want to do about it?” Weiss asked. She didn’t know if it was something Diana wanted to be talking about, or if the topic would bring her hurt, trauma and all. Claudine and Weiss really wanted to be careful.

But they just wanted, needed to know. “We’re not pressuring or forcing you to attend school or anything, if you don’t want to.” Weiss clarified. “It’s just that… we don’t feel comfortable leaving you here on your own in the day, coming home at who knows what time at night. I think Claudine and I both agree that we’d feel a little more secure knowing that we can see you around during the daytime, and possibly be together when we can.”

It was almost as if they were talking about watching over a child, not that Diana was one in any way. There was just this sense of desire to protect her from any more agony than she’d already experienced. Everything the younger pair had learned about Diana so far was so sad and painful, it made them the slightest bit anxious that something may happen to add to that, and they wouldn’t be around to be able to help.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you or anything, by the way.” Claudine added, closing the lid on the pot, finally done with the soup. “We’re…” She looked to the side, searching for the right words to pull out of thin air, before meeting Diana’s eyes. “We’re just worried, is all.”

Weiss bit her lip in concern. Were they being too overbearing? Towards someone they’d only been housemates with for a few weeks, and not having known one another before then; were they too intrusive into Diana’s private life? There was a chance Diana would be scared off, but it felt... necessary. To be able to lay this out on the table. After all, weren’t they family now?

Contrary to Claudine and Weiss’s troubles, Diana had found herself speechlessly touched. She’d never really had anyone show her concern, not after her mother passed. Her own direct bloodline rejected her with so much disdain and contempt, she truly felt unworthy of any love for something she didn’t even do. But this... It made her feel all warm, and her heart light to know that such kind people were now a part of her family. A real one, this time around.

That brought a small smile to her lips, thinking of where they would go from now. Despite knowing them  for as short a time as she did, Diana admired and cherished her two new sisters with all heart. She vowed she’d do anything to do better for them, to help them up as much as they did for her, and more.

Her mind continued treading happy thoughts, completely forgetting about the conversation they were having, and unknowingly increasing the anxiety of her waiting companions.

“D-Diana? Um…”

Right. Weiss and Claudine. They asked her something, and were still anticipating her reply. What had they been talking about? Ah, school.

School… huh.

Diana turned back to the TV, leaning against the couch. Enrolling. School. Studying. Diana had been prepared to study medicine all her life, but now that she couldn’t become the surgeon her mother’s family wanted her to be, she didn’t…. quite know what to do.

Of course, there were other options in the medical field, but she didn’t fancy said options at the moment because it only served to feed her now-recognized trauma. Medicine, it reminded her. Reminded her of so many things, both pleasant and… not. She still liked growing herbs and medicinal plants in their little garden that Claudine had helped her set up. It reminded her of her mother. That thought was both a joy, and sadness in and of itself. She had enough medical knowledge to possibly become a different kind of doctor, not necessarily a surgeon; but the history behind how she accumulated all of it was not the best experience.

She realized now that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to take a rest from it. What her whole life had been built to be.

Regardless, this didn’t make her thoughts any clearer, or give her a definite direction for a decision. She sighed, finally easing the growing tension that had settled in the air from all the silence and waiting, the only thing breaking the stillness first being the padding of Claudine’s feet as she made her way to the sitting area, taking her place at the other end of the couch, opposite Weiss.

“I never thought of this until now.” Diana confessed after long moments of ponder, finally speaking her mind.

Weiss and Claudine listened with all attentiveness.

“My life had been planned out for me; from beginning to end. What I would do, where I would go, when I would do this, how I’d do that. I’ve never…” She closed her eyes, picturing herself back then, a simple puppet, stringed along to the will of her handler. “-I haven’t really thought of wanting to do much else than obey and survive… and hopefully gain the love of my family.” She lifted her knees onto the couch, hugging them close to her chest. “A foolish wish on my part.”

“It’s not foolish.” Claudine interjected quickly. “Wanting to be loved isn’t foolish. It’s natural. Everyone wants to be cherished, and supported, and seen as they are. Understood. It’s not foolish.” She move closer to Diana’s side, taking a hand. “Never think that it is.” She squeezed. “Okay?”

Diana felt tears welling up in her eyes; not trusting in her verbal ability to reply, she opted to just nod. Claudine noticed the emotion leaking from her eyes, wiping them away ever gently, as gentle as she always was.

Weiss watched over the interaction fondly, before eventually sighing. Diana’s reply was welcome and all, but it didn’t answer much of their original question of what she planned to do now.

“Diana, do you still want to study medicine?” Weiss asked the important question directly, gaining the attention of the pair beside her. She received a shake of the head, no. “Well, um… do you have any other options? Or something else you wished you could’ve done before you were told that you had to be a doctor?”

Another shake of the head.

“Hmm…” This only drew more of a blank than anything. “Ah.” Suddenly she had a thought.

“Weiss? Did you come up with anything?”

“Sort of.” She shrugged. “Well, what are your thoughts on a change of pace?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Claudine and I go to the same school.” She pointed out, matter-of-factly. “If the worry was not being able to see Diana during the day, then wouldn’t it make sense to just… go to school together? All of us?” She directed the question more to Claudine.

“Weiss… we go to an arts school.” Claudine replied, confused. “That’s like… the furthest Diana could be from being a doctor.” As far as she knew her, Weiss wasn’t one for suggestions that were so left field, usually quite realistic, but maybe she was onto something.

“And? As someone who grew up in an environment quite like Diana’s, heiress things and all that,” She explained with a twirl of a finger through the air, “I can say that by experience, you’re made to learn all the most useless showy things.”

Claudine laughed at that. Well, maybe that was a valid point.

“I’ve known enough people to know that you have something like that up your sleeve.” She turned to Diana. “I’m sure you’ve had other interests besides studying medicine, right? Nothing like a job, or anything. A hobby?”

Diana thought long and hard. As she came into her last two years of high school, she had been made to focus completely on preparing to get into a good medicine-related program, and dropped anything unrelated to that goal. But before that, what had she been doing?

“Ah.”

“See? There is something.” Weiss smiled.

“Well… I remember my guardians signing me up to do painting and photography just as I entered my teen years. They even hired tutors and all.” Diana fished through her vague memories of the past, actually wondering if her camera from back then was alive and well. “It...was a hobby I actually grew to love. Possibly the first from all the other skills that had been pushed onto me.”

Diana continued to explain that as she was immersed deeper into the medium, the more she enjoyed. The Cavendish’s hadn’t minded it at the time as it brought some sort of prestige to their family. She also mentioned having played the piano since childhood to entertain guests in the event that she was invited by the main house to show off their genius charge, despite not finding use for her outside such functions.

“They had me stop eventually, however, as they weren’t the skills a doctor needed.”

Talk about tossing something away once it held no use or value anymore. It was really frustrating to know just how sad Diana’s background was before they’d met.

Weiss shook her head. This wasn’t the time for this. No more. They would be building a new present for Diana, and for themselves. Together. She wasn’t sure why she was so comfortable with the prospect of supporting one another with these people. Truly, it hadn’t been long since they’d met; and yet there was this sense of camaraderie and familiarity that they had possibly always wanted from a family that they’d found in each other. Maybe it was that.

Possibly the thought of starting with someone on a blank slate, with no preconceived expectations and assumptions despite knowing the terrors of their pasts. Or maybe it was because of that that they got along so well. Who knows.

What she did know was that she had the back of these people with her in this room, at this time, and she trusted that they’d have hers. They were family like that. Solving problems together. And speaking of problems, they just found out how to deal with their latest.

“Sounds like we can get you in.” Weiss nodded in assessment, taking in the latest information Diana had shared. This could work.

“Weiss,” Claudine turned to her, sighing. “Even so, this school is quite demanding. I’m not doubting our older sister’s abilities and-or experience, but…” As far as she knew, this was a special institute with students from all over the globe, coming to perfect years-worth of craft. Although their father had been the one to enroll them, Claudine knew from the letters and documents she’d received from him that her recommendations from high school played a huge roll in getting into a school that didn’t accept just anyone.

“Then we get a recommendation from her previous schools.” So Weiss could read minds now, apparently.

“That still isn’t a guarantee…” Claudine sighed again, but was slowly beginning to accept this inevitable plan of action. It seemed as though a motivated Weiss was an unstoppable Weiss. She should’ve taken the hint from the shopping and driving.

“Come on, Miss Actress. Where’s your thirst for flair? For adventure and beating the odds? Where’s the passion? On the stage? The world is your stage and all that jazz.” Weiss exclaimed dramatically, so unlike her. Almost as if she was playing a role.

Claudine rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless. “This actress just got a reality check, thank you very much. And so many odds. I have enough to beat already.” She chuckled, thinking on everything that had occurred over the course of such a short time. Finding out who her true father was, hearing about her mother’s illness, discovering she shared the same blood in her veins as two equally unfortunate- or really, more unfortunate souls. “But I suppose, there’s always room for some excitement and a challenge.” She’d never let one bring her down. She always did love a good challenge.

“Perfect! So your on board.” Weiss cheered, turning to the most important piece of their plan. “And what about you Diana?” She asked, softer, kinder. “Do you want to maybe try this out? With us? We know we might not seem all that trustworthy, and you haven’t known us lo-”

“I trust you more than you know.” Diana cut her off with a smile. “Thank you. For all you’ve been doing for me. You truly have yet to understand the depth of my gratefulness towards you both. Thank you.”

Her sincerity pierced through their hearts, melting them as Diana always did. Weiss actually thought she’d cry. A time and place for everything, though.

“Well!” She exclaimed, getting up from the couch. With a shrug, she commented offhandedly, “If all else fails, guess old moneybags might just be good for something.”

“WEISS!” Claudine gasped. “Are you suggesting we bribe the school? This honorable institution?!” Despite her words, she was smiling, almost laughing. Whether Weiss was serious or joking, it was absurd… and incredibly plausible.

“I know they might not accept Cash, okay. Calm down.” Weiss flipped her hair over her shoulder. “That’s why I said, ‘if all else fails’.” She spoke with air quotes. “I’d rather not do it either, y’know? Dirty our hands like that old man. Though I would love to drag him through the mud with rumors since we will indeed use his oh-so-good name,” Diana actually giggled at that one. “I’d rather we not get the same backlash.”

Claudine folded her arms in front of her, processing it all. It sounded so unrealistic. School was going to begin in just about two weeks, need she remind them! Would they have enough time to get everything ready? But then, this was the same Weiss who had a luxury car delivered to their door in a mere fifteen minutes.

“Oh Claudine, Dear Claudine, why do you fret?” Weiss laughed, putting on an obnoxious facade in Claudine’s very honest opinion, like one of those irritating rich girls back in France. “Trust in me and the power of connections.”

“Thought you hated those connections.”

“They’re useful.” Weiss shrugged, confident in their plan. There was also Diana’s family name to consider. From what they’d known so far, they were quite famous and surely had a pull of power somehow. She was sure that it would be of value as well.

“Scary. You people are scary. Heiresses are scary.” Claudine muttered, resigning to this decision. “Whatever. I’ll help out with what I can.”

“Perfect!” Weiss clapped, hand already typing away on her phone.

“Guess this means we won’t be meeting that old man tomorrow, huh? Claudine mused, thinking back to the gatekeeper they’d met earlier in the day. After all, they needed to prepare for Diana’s enrollment. Their business was simple enough and could wait until the same day. “I wonder if he’ll actually remember us and wait for the three foolish little girls to come back earlier.” Claudine looked to her sisters for their thoughts.

Diana simply shrugged.

Weiss actually thought about it for a moment, pausing her actions, a finger tapping against her cheek.

“Nah.”

A/N: As always, I welcome any and all feedback! It really helps with the motivation and like… my personal growth. Thank you for reading and til next time!

~Shintori Khazumi

[kayr0ss]

Appointments Chapter 5: Headaches and Some Music

[LWA, Diakko, Small Town AU, Fluff and Slow Romance, Pining™ lol]  

Chapter 1 & Table of Contents AO3 Link

Diana pursed her lips, locked in a heated stare-down against the newest occupant of her apartment.

“Please behave yourself until I return.”

The cat ‘mew’ed’ in reply as though he understood and resumed licking the back of his paw. All things considered, he seemed to be a surprisingly well-behaved cat. Who looked polite. This small comfort was enough to make up for the ridiculousness of having to talk to a cat, and Diana realized that she had never been more excited to return to her clinic as she was now.

The normalcy of work, she thought to herself, is beginning to feel like a comfort versus the absurdity of my home’s current state of affairs.

She stepped through her doorway into a lovely Blytonbury morning. The habitual glance towards her watch read 09:51, urging her to walk at a quicker pace than usual. She regrettably strode right by Jasminka’s café—there was no time to pass by tea, and she hadn’t woken up early enough to make some for herself that morning.

Of course, because of the cat.

The day prior, she’d had to return home later than usual to fetch her feline tenant the basic supplies: a small can of cat-food, a litterbox, and two bowls for food and milk. The real challenge was in the ‘teaching him not to leave any form of excrement where he shouldn’t.’ Pleasant behavior aside, it seemed Toby was actually quite intelligent—although by the time it was two o’clock in the morning, her NewTube suggestions were a peculiar mix of medical lectures and ‘How to Potty Train Your Cat’ videos.

She made her way through the crosswalk—ensuring that no brunettes were running about—and mentally prepared herself for the day she was about to have. There were no scheduled patients before lunch, giving her enough time to review case files for a busy afternoon.

When she stepped through the glass door to her clinic, Barbara was already lounging behind her desk and flipping—as usual—through a novel.

“Good morning,” she peaked out from behind ‘NightFall 12: The Oblivion of Love’. “You’re on the dot today.”

“I always am,” Diana replied lightly. “Good morning to you as well.”

“You’re always at least fifteen minutes early,” Barbara corrected, smiling kindly. Then the nurse leaned forward, scrutinizing Diana with an observant gaze. “You’re…”

The blonde lifted her eyebrow in silent response.

“Something.” Barbara said slowly, as if trying to figure a puzzle out. She waved a hand to dismiss the thought. “Must have been my imagination, just thought there was something off. Anyway, I’ve laid down the patient files for the afternoon. We’ve got ourselves a slow morning.”

“Thank you,” Diana nodded politely, slipping into her whitecoat and thankful that she didn’t have to explain the kind of morning (and evening) she’d had. She settled into her chair, entertaining the thought of going through the documents Barbara had prepared before deciding she wasn’t in the right headspace for that. A headache. Massing her temples, she ascribed her irritability at a lack of sleep and constant worrying over her furniture’s wellbeing. She inwardly cursed her lack of morning tea—and really hoped her furniture were okay.

Learning back with a sigh, her eyes drifted towards a pamphlet at the edge of her table. It was the St. Beatrix MMC residency brochure on Cardiology. She’d probably read its contents nearly ten times over by now. In truth, the hospital had already reached out to her: she was “everything they were looking for”, or so the chief resident had said—a young doctor with an impeccable educational background. Diana had been truly grateful, but she was committed to taking the time she’d need to be absolutely sure. Which she wasn’t. At least, not yet.

There was a knock on her door, and Barbara was peeking through the doorframe. “Water. And an aspirin. Because for some reason you look—uh.”

“Off?” Diana tilted her head.

“Like shit.” Barbara nodded, and Diana would have had something to say about her choice of language if it weren’t for the fact that she was probably right. “Did anything happen?”

“Just a few issues to iron over at home,” she replied cryptically.

Barbara looked like she wanted to ask more, but decided not to prod. “That won’t do. We’re having lunch over at the Russian lady’s and getting those croissants you love so much, but in the meantime drink that Advil because someone’s gotta look after the doctor looking after everyone else.”

Diana smiled and felt a wave of gratitude pour through her over Barbara’s thoughtfulness.

“Which reminds me,” the other woman set the items down to Diana’s desk, “the cat’s gone.”

The blonde immediately looked down at the suddenly-very-interesting-patient-files. “I—Indeed.”

“You know, I think I’ll actually miss him. He was kind of cute.”

Diana was ready to remind her of the importance of workplace cleanliness when the front bell chimed louder than usual. The glass pane of the door practically swung open with force.

“Heya, doc! And miss nurse!”

Oh.

Barbara was the first to recover. “Where did you fall in this time? Was it a ditch? Or did you fly off your bike again?”

Atsuko Kagari-with-blood-ty—Oh, enough of that! She’s just Akko!—had come barging in with a large paper bag, effectively elevating Diana’s headache through several numbers up the VNRS pain scale.

“I—” Akko shot the nurse a smug look “—have yet to experience an accident this week!”

“That’s a first,” Barbara crossed her arms.

“But I’m here for you!”

Those stunning red eyes locked themselves onto Diana, and suddenly she couldn’t speak. Me? The brunette strode into her office. She dropped the paper bag onto her desk.

“I’m not quite sure I follow. What is this?”

“Child support!”

Diana flinched. Barbara blinked. Akko simply nodded to herself in smug satisfaction.

“For Toby. Since we’re co-parents now.” Akko clarified, looking completely serious. “There’s a bunch of cat food that should last a while, a cute mouse squeaky toy, and animal milk.”

The blonde felt her ears redden at the incredulous look Barbara was giving her, and seriously—was this seriously happening right now? “C—Co-parents?”

“Yes.” Akko nodded with a determined glint in her eyes. “And I’m no deadbeat mom!”

“I—I see.”

“Anyway,” Akko took one of the pens from Diana’s stand without asking (“Don’t do that.”), and leaned over to write on the blank prescription pad on the blonde’s desk. “Here’s my number so you can text me about anything he needs and so we can arrange my visitation rights!”

Visitation rights?

“Oh.” Akko paused, lifting her thumb to her chin. “We probably need to schedule a trip to the vet and get him a collar, too.”

We?

Not knowing what else to say and still completely blindsided by Akko’s—well, everything—Diana simply complied. “I… know a veterinarian. He’s a childhood friend.”

“Perfect!” Akko beamed.

Once again, it was disarming. She really had to stop doing that to Diana.

“I’ve got to study for a test so I gotta bounce but I’m so excited to see him again!” Akko leaned across the table, moving around at a pace faster than Diana’s sleep-deprived-due-to-Toby’s mind could follow. The brunette wrapped her hand around her forearm and gave her another smile. It was warm. “But really—thank you Diana! I’ll see you around!”

She turned on her heel like the bundle of energy she was and bolted right out the door with a wave to Barbara.

Barbara—who looked right about ready to explode into laughter in the wake of Akko’s departure.

“You kept him.”

“Please don’t.” Diana pleaded.

The nurse finally caved, leaning against the doorframe to her office for support while she snickered. “That’s why you look completely out of it! You’ve got to tell me everything.”

But then the thudding sound of footsteps interrupted their conversation yet again and the door swung open. Poor thing. Might need to have its hinges checked at this point.

“I almost forgot!” Akko came bursting into the room like a cannon ball. “I got this on my way here for you!”

She slammed a paper take-out cup from Jasminka’s café onto Diana’s desk.

“I have no idea what it is to be honest.” Akko yelled, already rushing back out in a hurry. “I just asked Jas for a cup of whatever your usual is! Okay-bye-for-real!”

She was gone in a flash. Diana could smell tea.

English Breakfast, prepared exactly the way she liked it. The aroma was enough to chase away the tension along her brow, and when she glanced towards Barbara, who looked just as lost as she felt—

—they shared soft laughter.

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous. Including the fact that her cup was labeled: ‘Dr. Grumpy >:(’

 ---

 It was 5:30PM and Akko was in despair.

“Chikusho! That was a disaster.” Akko banged her head against the lecture room desk. She was reeling from the mental assault that was ‘Applied Physics Examination 1.’ Judging by the scowl on Sucy’s usually nonchalant face, it hit her pretty hard too. “How’d you do?”

“Tanginang test ‘yan.” She glowered in her native language.

“I’m going to assume that was a string of curse words.”

“For once in your idiot life, you are correct.”

“Mou!” Akko huffed.

“I’m out.” Sucy declared, and likewise, every fiber in Akko’s being wanted to get the hell out of this classroom as soon as possible. The purple-haired girl lazily slung her bag over shoulder and looked down at Akko (who was still very much slumped over the desk) through one eye. “So are you coming or should I leave you behind?”

Akko groaned. And then sighed. And then groaned another time while pointing towards the podium because—“First I have to walk over there and ask if she wants to join the running club.”

“The professor?” Sucy blinked.

“Ya, dude.”

Then Sucy was grinning daggers. “I think I’m gonna stick by and see if she’ll actually murder you this time.”

“Not funny!” Akko pouted while finally standing up and cursing the fact that she can no longer exist as a worry-free blob on a desk.

“It is. A little. Now go.” Sucy prodded on, repeatedly poking at her arm.

“Going, going!”

While the students slowly filed out of the room—in despair, mind you—Akko approached Dr. Meridies with Sucy lingering a safe distance behind her.

The lilac-haired professor looked up from a test sheet she was inspecting, looking, as one would say, way too tired for this shit. “No amount of begging is going to convince me to pass you.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Akko crossed her arms defiantly.

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

Well. There wasn’t any other way for this to go down than directly, so it was best to just blurt it out. “Do you want to join the running club?”

Dr. Meridies reeled, squinting. “The running club?”

“Yes.” Akko nodded. “The running club.”

“So many people are asking me to join this running club that I think I’m gonna start declining just out of spite.”

“Ugh!” Akko groaned. “I tried—can’t force you! Maybe Professor du Nord can, Kami-sama, why did I even both—”

“Wait wait wait—” Dr. Meridies raised a hand to shut Akko while scowling. “du Nord?”

“Yeah,” Akko said looked to the side with slumped shoulders, “the club moderator. And I’m here cause Diana asked so now that I’ve done that I’m just gonna boun—”

Oddly enough, the exasperated professor seemed to have tuned out. “Chariot du Nord, from Humanities?”

“Uh, yeah.” The brunette blinked. “Do you know her?”

“O—Of course.” The older woman began stare so hard at the table she could have burned a hole through. “Faculty and all.”

Akko caught on like a wolf, grinning mischievously. “You know her!”

“Like I said we both teach—”

“You know know her.”

“Out!” Dr. Meridies barked, “of my classroom!”

With a devious glint, which Akko swore she could see in Sucy’s eyes too, she waved in exaggerated politeness and made her way to the door.

“Okay, professor!” Oh, she loved this sort of drama! “Just saying—it’s on Monday evenings!”

--

“You should have seen her face!” Akko squealed with almost manic glee. “Oh, Lotte you’re gonna love it—I know you’re a sucker for this kind of stuff.”

“But I can’t imagine it! How does Professor du Nord—” Lotte gestured towards her life with both hands for emphasis “—who seems super sweet and kind of introverted but is generally made of sunshine, find herself with a history of romantic involvement with someone like Dr. Meridies—” she made a quick jerking motion towards the right. “Who I haven’t actually seen in person, and if I were to base my judgments off your descriptions she sounds like some mad-scientist antagonist in an anime who’d wear a cape.”

Akko blinked. “That’s a good one.”

Sucy actually nodded.

“It makes no sense!” Lotte shook her head. And then… she swooned. “But love never does, does it?”

“Makes about as much as sense as this idiot getting that doctor to adopt the cat.”

“’The cat’ is named Toby!” Akko chided, “and you’d be hard-pressed to deny him if you’ve seen that cute little face of his.”

The three women were lazing about Lotte and Sucy’s living-and-dining area, with Akko sprawled across the couch that she’d be sleeping on since the pair—or just Lotte—invited her to stay over. There was take-out and beer (which Sucy and Akko had picked up on their way home), and the mini-get-together served two purposes: to recover from that horrid examination, and to keep Akko company because “tomorrow’s my first day of work and I am way too nervous to fall asleep without beer or Lotte nagging me to!”

There was something deeply comfortable about the small apartment. The furnishing didn’t match up and yet every piece felt like they belonged. Pots and pans hung above the stove, used yet well-maintained. They always had an extra set of everything—as though guests were welcome and often come and go. She loved it. And loved how welcome she felt in it. And though she’d never impose unless invited, Akko felt… cozy. Books, and mushrooms, and odd test-tubes, and literary manuscripts and all.

Lotte was in the middle of sharing the gist of her latest writing exercise when Akko felt her phone buzz.

“Hold on,” she excused herself, “I swear if this is a Canvas notification I’m gonna cut a bi—oh!”

“What is it?” Lotte asked.

-

18:53 Good evening. This Dr. Cavendish’s number – I’ve been able to secure an appointment with Dr. Hanbridge, the veterinarian I had mentioned. I apologize for the short notice but his soonest availability is tomorrow at around 1:30PM. Check-up aside, an agent in his clinic should likewise be able to assist with any documentation that needs sorting out given our arrangement. Your prompt response will be appreciated.

18:54 Heeeya Doc! 😊 u sound like an e-mail. :P

18:54 But sure lol I get off work @ Arcturus school around lunch time

18:55 Is it gonna be far?

18:55 But srsly lighten up abit it’s just me we can me at the bus stop or whrvr

18:56 I’ll be hailing a taxi service from my home and will collect you from your workplace at 12:30PM. Please be on time.

18:56 PLS add me on WhatsUpp through this number PLS omg I want pics of my little bby!!!! DO U FEED HIM and I can send you memes to show him so he’ll laugh LOL

18:56 LOL wtf ‘collect’

-

“It was Diana.”

Sucy cocked an eyebrow, “’Diana’?”

“I have a vet trip with Toby tomorrow!” Akko buzzed. “Oh bother, now I’m never going to get any sleep.”

“Is she for real?” Sucy indifferently pointed towards Akko while speaking to Lotte. “She’s like some ‘instant-friendship’ anomaly. Even I feel personally victimized.”

Lotte only smiled. “You have to sleep lest you subject poor children to a zombie for a teacher tomorrow.”

“That’s mean!”

Akko shared a laugh with Lotte, urging her to carry on with her story. They were getting to the good part—Edmund was about to confess!

One successful synopsis reading and a few topic changes later, Akko’s phone had buzzed once more.

It was a picture.

She squealed so hard her cheeks hurt.

“Akko, down! Yes—I see him—stop screaming or else I’m going to poison your drink.”

 -

 The driver pulled up at Arcturus School’s main driveway at exactly half-past noon.

“Please wait a moment.” Diana politely requested, mildly aware of the fact that she was beginning to miss the luxury of having her own car and service.

“Sure, just don’t leave me alone with that little fella, don’t matter how cute he might be.”

With a sigh—which was one of many at this point—she gently peered over to Toby whose head was poking out of the most comfortable canvas tote bag she could scavenge. It was that or nothing at all, and no, she wasn’t going to carry him in her arms.

‘Mew.’ He stared back up towards her. At least he seemed comfortable—and she tried to fight it but then she gave in and chuckled.

“Oh, come on then.”

Diana stepped out of the vehicle with Toby in tow. She pulled out her phone, putting a call through for the latest addition in her phonebook.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Typical. She wasn’t picking up.

Fortunately she had anticipated this, there was a half-hour allowance in her schedule. Instead of bombarding the brunette with several missed calls, she opted to walk towards what looked like the waiting area where children were fetched. She took a moment to look around, noticing that the school grounds had an abundance of trees—much like the rest of Blytonbury and the campus of LNU. The morning classes were dismissed and children ran about. A few of them began to notice her special baggage, and one little girl ran up to her and nearly hugged her legs.

She had hazel eyes, and big, goofy grin. “You’re so pretty!”

Diana blinked. “Thank you.”

“Is that a cat?”

“Yes.” She lowered the bag a little, appreciating the wonder in the little girl’s voice. “But I can’t let you pet him yet, I’m afraid. He still bites.”

“But I—”

The little girl was cut-off by the sounded children cheering. Diana followed her line of sight and saw…

Akko.

She was playing music. And laughing. But more than that—everyone around her was smiling just as bright. Children sang while they danced in a circle around her, clapping their hands to the beat of what sounded like a ridiculously complicated rendition of the ABCs on the violin. The pace was quick while she played a progression of eight and sixteenth notes. The feel of the song was less classical and more like an upbeat Celtic dance.

And dance they did. Laughing, and clapping, and bouncing around in mirth without a care in the world.

Akko played with such joy and passion that Diana could feel the warmth from several meters away. She kept still—already forgetting her earlier dismay on being behind schedule—and simply watched.

“Do you know her?” The little girl with hazel eyes asked in a small voice.

Diana nodded, smiling to herself while trying to wrap her head around the conundrum that was Atsuko Kagari—who had red eyes, who tripped over nothing and scraped her knee, who could barely make it to her classes on time and yet could bewitch a crowd with a smile and a bit of music.

“She’s…”  

Even Toby looked he was watching.

“…my friend.”

 -

end chapter

-

A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you're doing well, stayin' safe and staying home. So anyway here's another chapter and admittedly I only have a very rough outline of where I want this story to be and well... I like writing one shots because I'm REALLY bad at plotting out longer stuff like seriously, when I started this, I thought it would be 5 chapters long at most and yet here's chapter 5.

So I've decided to just go with it and take the time to explore and narrate the relationships/interactions I've got in my head AND I don't know anything about taking care of cats I AM SORRY IT PROBABLY SHOWS

Hope you're enjoying it so far! (AND I still owe Diana a happy birthday fic that may or may not involve feet due to some shenaginas I've seen on tumblr which I don't know if are jokes or not)

[varricmancer]

Intertwined | 2

*** Cross-posted on AO3 ***

Pairing: Farkas x F!OC

Summary: A child of Mara was a soul blessed and bound to its mate for all eternity. Elizabeth Williams is summoned to Mara as a lost soul, only she’s from modern America and her mate is somewhere in the wilds of Skyrim.

A/N: Quick note - Don't worry! I don't plan on rehashing the script the entire time. This part was just essential so that Elizabeth recognizes where she is and what's going on.

***

She’d gone to college so she’s woken up to some horrible things before - puke in the bed, strange houses, dates that were definitely a product of beer goggles. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this horrible, however, not even during the worst hangover in her memory.

Elizabeth’s entire body ached, from the pounding in her head to the sharp stabs of pain in her ankles. The pain was amplified every time whatever she was in would hit something and bump her. If she was in a car they were the slowest drivers of all time, and they had the top down. The sun was piercing through even her closed eyelids. She tried to bring her hand up to shade her eyes from the painful light, only to realize she couldn’t.

She tried to crack open her eyes instead, but she was still groggy and her vision slightly blurred. She took a sniff instead, immediately recoiling. Overwhelming amounts of body odor, spoiled food, and what certainly smelled like shit of both human and animal variety.

Where the hell was she?

Someone groaned next to her and she finally managed to focus enough to see clearly. She looks up into the grim face of a strange man. His blonde hair was scraggly and clearly hadn’t been washed in ages as it hung around his face. He wasn’t ugly, just kinda dirty. Like, Kurt Cobain after a roll around in some dirt.  

“Hey, you’re both finally awake. You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us and that thief over there.”

She looks around, finally noticing that she’s in the back of an old rickety wooden wagon, the kind that they usually put in old westerns or other period movies. There are several men stuffed in the back with her, all of them with their hands tied in thick rope. The one nearest the back of the wagon is even gagged. She looks down at herself and notices that she is indeed tied up too, but she also has an extra rope tying to her the man next to her. The one blinking up at her groggily with red eyes set in a face of grey.

Okay...so she guesses she’s still dreaming? Her head really fucking hurt and she could barely think straight, but she felt like she knew what was going on. If only her head would stop pounding enough for her to concentrate.

“Damn you Stormcloaks... Skyrim was fine until you came along! Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you I’d have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there, “ he nods towards the grey man next to her, who stops glaring at his ropes long enough to lift a questioning eyebrow at the angry brunette man. “You and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now,” says dirty Kurt.

“Shut up back there!”

Elizabeth startles at the sudden shout, turning to look at the drivers themselves. They were wearing what looked like medieval armor. She even spotted a glint of metal on their hips, like they were carrying real swords. She gulped and spared a look at the grey guy still tied to her, noting that he looked just as freaked out as her even if the proud tilt of his head remained.

“What’s wrong with him, huh?” The angry brunette man snorts and nods his head towards the large gagged man in the back.

“Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.”

Apparently, dirty Kurt had said something truly terrifying, because angry brunette looked ready to piss his pants. “Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion... if they’ve captured you... oh gods, where are they taking us?”

“I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.”

“No, This can’t be happening! This isn’t happening!”

Angry brunette looked on the verge of a panic attack and she was afraid his terror was infectious because she was starting to freak out herself. Her mind was finally clearing of the painful fog and she realized she knew this scene. She’d seen it play out a million times. She could quote it word for word if asked.

“Hey, what village are you from horse-thief?”

“Why do you care?”

“A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.”

“Rorikstead. I’m from Rorikstead.”

“General Tullius sir! The headsman is waiting.”

Everyone in the wagon turns to watch as two official-looking men meet to talk. Elizabeth swallows thickly when she recognizes Hadvar. Fucking Hadvar.

“Good, let's get this over with.”

“Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh! Divines, please help me!” Angry brunette mutters loudly, rocking back and forth in his seat. What was his name again? Something with an ‘L’ she thinks.

Dirty Kurt - who she now realizes is Ralof - scoffs at the men. “Look at him! General Tullius, the Military. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this.” He pauses and looks around the filthy little village. “This is Helgen... I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Velod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in... Funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.”

Elizabeth feels her breath hitch as they turn the corner, the little scene where the father is ushering his child into the house so he wouldn’t witness the deaths scarily familiar.

The wagon is slowing even more, and she looks around, amazed that she could recognize everything. There’s Hadvar, waiting with his list. There’s his bitch of a Captain. There’s the chopping block. There’s the tower where Alduin...oh fuck.

“Get these prisoners out of the cart!”

The wagon stops with a jolt and she struggles to keep her balance. The grey guy (Dunmer, she recalls. Dark Elves) is someone that she doesn’t recognize but seems nice enough since he pushes his shoulder against her to keep her from falling over. She smiles timidly in thanks, and he nods briskly. She realizes he’s been silent the entire time. Could he be the Dragonborn? It would be a giant fucking joke on the entire world if she was.

“Why are we stopping?”

Ralof looks at the angry brunette with pity shining in his eyes.“ Why do you think? End of the line. Let’s go, we shouldn’t keep the gods waiting for us.”

Ralof stands bravely and leads the way out of the wagon, despite angry brunette’s panicked whining.

“No! Wait! We’re not rebels!”

“Face your death with some courage, thief.”

To be fair to the guy, Elizabeth was starting to feel like breathing was becoming difficult. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel her entire body shaking. To be honest, she was probably in the middle of both a panic attack and whatever shock did to the body. She felt almost detached and yet this still all felt almost too real.

“You’ve got to tell them we weren’t with you! This is a mistake!” angry brunette continues ranting.

“Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!” the female Captain shouted. Elizabeth glanced around nervously. Any moment now she was going to wake up. Hopefully, before she had to put her neck anywhere near the wooden block still stained with past kills.

Hadvar clears his throat and adjusts his papers before turning towards the gagged prisoner.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.”

They all turn to watch as the large man walks defiantly towards his place in line.

“It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric,” Ralof nods his head towards the man.

“Ralof of Riverwood,” he moves to his spot in line proudly.

“Lokir of Rorikstead.”

“No! I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!”

Elizabeth flinches as angry brunette tries to make a run for it. She’d always thought this part was fucked up.

“Halt!” the Captain yells at him.

“You’re not going to kill me!”

Horrible choice for your last words, she thinks.

“Archers!”

Elizabeth observes in horror as the arrow flies through the air. Surprisingly enough it landed in his knee instead of his head or gut. He rolled around on the ground, groaning. Elizabeth thought she might be going a little crazy if all she wanted to do was giggle and make jokes about guards and arrows to the knee. Maybe the guard in Whiterun was angry brunette the whole time.

The Captain glares at the rest of the prisoners. “Anyone else feel like running?”

Hadvar crinkles his nose and looks at the Dark Elf man next to her.

“Wait... You there. Step forward.”

The man did his best to walk up to Hadvar without pulling her too much. He subtly eases her behind him and quirks an eyebrow at the soldier.

“Who are you?” Hadvar questions, glancing between him and the list in his hand.

“Sundrose Droleno,” the Dark Elf answers, his voice refined and currently sounding very bored and unimpressed with the entire affair. If Elizabeth hadn’t noticed the fear flashing briefly in his eyes while they were on the wagon, she would think him unaffected entirely.

“Another refugee?” Hadvar sighs. “The Gods really have abandoned your people, dark elf. Captain, what should we do? He’s not on the list.”

The woman sneers at him and shrugs. “Forget the list. He goes straight to the block.”

Hadvar frowns, obviously trying to hold back saying something. Finally, his shoulders droop and he looks at the dark elf, apology shining in his eyes but meaningless as everyone now knew how unfair this entire thing was.

“By your orders, Captain. I’m sorry. We’ll make sure your remains get returned to Morrowind. Follow the captain, prisoner.”

Hadvar finally notices Elizabeth behind the Dark Elf, frown deepening as he notes the combined rope.

“What’s going on here?”

“He tried to stop us from taking her,” one of the soldiers that drove the wagon answered. “Figured he’d come along easier if he had his...lady friend,” the soldier snorted, showing exactly what sort of friend he thought she was.

“Enough!” the Captain shouts. “Take care of her next. Whether she’s accomplice or camp whore makes no difference. She was with the rebels. Collect her name and stand her in line.”

“Captain, I don’t think…”

“Exactly. You’re not to think. You’re to follow orders. Or do you want to join them? Don’t think I’m not aware of where you’re from. A childhood friend of yours, perhaps?”

“No, Captain,” he swallows, shutting his eyes briefly before calling her forward.

“I’m sorry. What is your name?”

She swallows to wet her dry throat, answering softly, “Elizabeth Williams.”

Hadvar raises his eyebrow but scratches down the name. “And where do you hail from? High Rock?”

Elizabeth merely nodded her head, knowing that any other answer like, “Planet Earth,” or “Arizona,” would probably get her a trip to an interrogation chamber rather than waiting out here for the inevitable outcome.

He then waves for her to join the dark elf, no one thinking to bother untying them from each other before sending them to the block, apparently. As she steps up to her place, she searches the skies frantically for signs of Alduin. Unless her being here has changed things he should start heading over here soon. Hopefully, before they made her walk up for her turn.

She hadn’t realized how much she was shaking until the dark elf - Sundrose? - placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He leaned over slightly and whispered in her ear, “Don’t let them see your fear. Head up, little one.”

She exhaled harshly and nodded, squaring her shoulders as she resumed her search. That’s right, she’d be okay. This man next to her was the Dragonborn. She was going to live.

General Tullius walked towards Ulfric, his eyes burning with hatred and fanaticism.

“Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn’t use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp the throne.”

Ulfric growls warningly from beneath his gag, but the General ignores him.

“You started this war, flung Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace.”

Finally, the sound that Elizabeth had been waiting for rang through the skies. The far-off roar of a dragon.

Hadvar looked around nervously. “What was that?”

“It’s nothing. Carry on.” General Tullius snapped, eyes never moving from Ulfric.

Captain Bitch salutes him. “Yes, General Tullius!” She turns to the priestess they’ve so thoughtfully provided. “Give them their last rites.”

The drably clothed woman nods and turns towards the line of prisoners.

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the 8 divines upon you-”

“For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with,” one of the Stormcloak soldiers snaps and marches towards the chopping block. Elizabeth swallows nervously, because holy shit, was she really about to see someone decapitated?

The priestess stops and stammers, looking at the soldier with a mixture of confusion and pity. “As you wish.”

“Come on! I haven’t got all morning!” The soldier bellows. Some of his fellow soldiers snicker, not seeming surprised by this turn of events at all. He takes one last look at Ulfric and they share a nod before he drops to his knees and presses his face to that horribly stained wood.

“My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?”

Elizabeth holds her breath as they step on the man to hold him down, and she watches in horror as the axe falls and -

A hand quickly grabs her head and turns it towards the side, and she finds shelter in the dark elf’s shoulder. Unfortunately, she could still hear the moment metal met flesh and the horrifying thud as they simply kicked the body to the side like trash.

“You Imperial bastards!” One of the Stormcloak’s yelled at the executioners, spitting into the dirt.

The gathered crowd of villagers were screaming a different tune - “Justice!” and “Death to the Stormcloaks!” were the most common. The first taste the game gave you of differing views and sides.

Ralof sighed and she peeked out of Sundrose’s arm to watch him stare proudly at the corpse. “As fearless in death as he was in life.”

Captain Bitch stood at attention, smirking gleefully at Sundrose. “Next, the dark elf!

The distant roar of a dragon grew closer.

You’re an asshole, Alduin, but right now I’d really like you to hurry and get here, she thought.

Hadvar dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword, searching the skies himself.

“There it is again... did you hear that?”

Captain Bitch ignored him, too power-mad to pay attention to anything else.

“I said... Next. Prisoner.”

One of the Imperial soldiers grabs Sundrose’s arm, yanking him forward.

“To the block prisoner. Nice and easy.”

To her horror, they still hadn’t untied her, so she was pulled right along with him and expected to stand at his side as they executed him. She definitely wasn’t picking Imperials this playthrough.

Sundrose knelt gracefully, turning his head to face her.

“Close your eyes, little one,” he said softly, watching her as the headsman raised his axe.

“No need. He’s here,” she grinned, even as terror filled her at the very real Alduin flying close and landing on the stone building behind them. He roared, sending everyone around them into a panic.

“What in Oblivion is that?!” Hadvar yelled.

Elizabeth waited for Captain Bitch and the General to be caught up in the panic before reaching down to help Sundrose to his feet. They both stood there watching as Alduin set the little town ablaze, killing most of their would-be executioners instantly.

Suddenly Ralof appears and grabs Sundrose’s arm, tugging him towards one of the buildings.

“Come on! The guards won’t give us another chance! This way!”

They both run along after Ralof, with the still gagged Ulfric not far behind them. They rush into one of the still mostly intact buildings, slamming the door behind them. Ralof pulls a dagger off of one of the bodies inside, using it to slash all of their ropes. Elizabeth sighs and rubs her burning wrists in relief.

Ralof turns to Ulfric, his eyes wide in wonder - and though he would probably never admit it - a touch of fear.

“Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?”

Ulfric finishes untying his binds and spits out his gag. “Legends don’t burn down villages.”

Alduin’s roars outside rattle the building as he nears their location, all of them looking worriedly at the walls.

“We need to move, now!” Ralof bellows, gesturing for them to follow him upstairs.

They all run until they can’t anymore, finally facing a dead end. The rest of the stairs had been smashed off by Alduin, leaving nothing but a giant hole in the stone wall.

“See the inn on the other side?” Ralof asked, turning to the two behind him. “Jump through the roof and keep going! We’ll follow when we can!”

And here she was, the end of Skyrim chapter one. She startles as Sundrose suddenly jumps without a word. She rushes towards the hole, watching in awe as he neatly lands with a slight roll, before standing up and dusting himself off.

He looks up with a charming grin and reaches both of his arms out.

“Jump, little one. I’ll catch you.”

Elizabeth gulps and walks trepidly towards the edge. She steels herself by taking a few deep breaths, staring at Sundrose as she launches herself from the edge.

Time suddenly stood still as she registered the roar of the dragon was far too close for comfort. She could feel the sweltering breath as he opened his mouth, the stench of sulfur bringing tears to her eyes. Then came the scent of searing flesh as her pained screams filled the air. The last thing she heard was the cry of horror from the man below her.

She supposed as far as ways to die went, this was probably up there. Death by video game. That wasn’t a video game. And it wasn't a dream. Because she was in Skyrim and she was very, very, awake.

***

[firewoodfigs]

Summary:

“Fate must be so kind to reunite us like this -”

Riza grips his hand so hard, he can almost feel an incoming fracture. Her stiff upper lip makes it clear that she’s not interested in idle chatter. “This is a fate worse than death, if I do say so myself.”

(a/n: this was the piece I originally wrote for the @royaiweek prompt ‘old wounds’ (aka the high society au no one asked for), but I got hit with the angst / hurt & comfort truck xD it’s meant to be a prologue of sorts to a multi-chap which I'm not too sure about atm. feedback & concrit are always welcome! <3) 

prologue: of old flames and old wounds 

~x~

It’s impossible to miss Roy Mustang even amidst the crowd of handsome bachelors sprawled out like chess pieces on the tessellated ballroom floor tonight. He sticks out like a sore thumb; five feet eight inches of saviour complex wrapped in corded muscle, armed with a damnably dashing smirk and a lascivious glint in his eyes as he scans the crowd for a particular someone.

Ordinarily, he might've been content with another run-of-the-mill socialite hanging off his arms, but tonight’s debutante is special - because it is finally a certain lady’s turn to make her official debut in high society."

As if aligned with the stars, the lady enters, dressed to the nines in a stunning blue number; aureate locks done in a tasteful up-do to reveal her pretty countenance in its full glory. Independence hangs off her shoulders proudly, the way diamonds cascade down her neck. Her lips are painted a bright, bloody scarlet, and a subtle blush adorns her cheeks like the genesis of tulips blooming in spring. She’s exquisite - dangerously so - and even as she trails behind the other girls with the smallest hint of awkwardness in her gait they fade into the background like shadows.

Elizabeth Hawkeye bows courteously as her grandparents introduce her to the eager audience. Raucous applause envelops her being, and cameras everywhere are quick to go off. She grimaces subtly at the attention, but just as quickly schools her expression and returns to her seat along with everyone else.

And - quite unfortunately, Roy thinks - they’re seated on opposite ends of the dining table tonight.

Notwithstanding, his eyes continue to linger on her, and Roy can’t help but notice just how much she’d grown from the last time he saw her. Any childlike roundness that might’ve once rested on her lovely face was replaced by distinct angles and prominent cheekbones, and her delicate, cuplike bosom made her maturity very, very evident.  

Before he can continue his observations, though, he’s interrupted by an inviting, outstretched hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mister Mustang,” says the girl seated beside him. “I’m Juliette Astor.”

Juliette Astor is attractive, as all upper crust socialites generally are, with a soft smile that beguiles hidden insecurities and vanities. An innate thirst for approval makes its presence known from under fluttering eyelashes. Roy manages a half-hearted smile in response as he shakes her hand politely, forcing himself to make eye contact.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Astor,” he pauses, contemplating his next move. “That shade of blue compliments your eyes very well, I must say.” Juliette grins widely this time. It’s concealed behind a carefully-positioned palm and well-manicured nails, but it’s all very deliberate. All part of the game.  

The other girls seated within his vicinity begin to do the same. They introduce themselves to him, to the other women around the table with all the enthusiasm of old friends reuniting despite any underlying tension that might be there.

The sea of names are lost on him eventually, but Roy smiles all the same, and they’re disarmed by his charm.

Dinner is finally served after all the frivolous formalities, the first appetiser of the night being a luxurious beef carpaccio. Chateaubriand, to be specific. There’s certainly no scrimping on a grand affair like this tonight (thousand dollar wines are poured with largesse as a live orchestra plays), and neither would Roy Mustang be skimping on his efforts to rekindle the old flame between them. 

~x~

It’s all very methodical, really, like simple geometric progression. Every so often, a girl will reach out to check her reflection on the back of a silver spoon before puckering her lips in an attractive pout, desire seeping from beneath. Another will bite down on her appetiser slowly, careful not to smear her crimson lips, and chew daintily before flashing a set of pearly whites invitingly at Roy - a dance, and then a kiss or two? Finally, yet another will shyly refuse any dessert on the menu and look at him as if he were the intended substitute of the night.

Once in a while, Roy responds with an appreciative, crooked grin as his eyes take in the creamy expanse of milky thighs gleaming from the slits of their dresses. But he finds himself getting bored easily, mind wandering back to the girl who’d stolen his heart since time immemorial.

(Riza, however, doesn’t do any of this, doesn’t dabble in any of this needless seduction - but she doesn’t need to, not when she already has him, amongst many other gentlemen tonight, wrapped around her fingers.)

He continues watching Riza quietly now and then while trying to keep the girls around him entertained with senseless talk. Her back is ruler-straight the way all girls in high society had been taught by their governesses to do so, but the slightest hint of discomfort mars her sharp features - such things had never been her cup of tea, after all.

Perhaps somewhat ironically, despite their differences Roy had always been more accustomed to such events than Riza. Despite being the Grummans’ - who were practically royalty, even in the world of socialites - heiress, she’d always been disinclined to make an appearance at such events, which to her mind were honestly just riddled with false niceties and fake pretenses.

Neither made for a particularly comfortable night for her.

Roy, on the other hand, fits in with unnerving ease, despite the fact that he didn’t descend from a long line of aristocrats like Riza, and was perhaps way too good at playing the role of a shameless flirt whenever the need arose. The ladies, of course, enjoyed this terribly. With every crooked grin, every deliberate wink they’re quick to fall head over heels for him.

But of course, it’s impossible for anyone to be universally loved. For every woman who was head over heels over his debonair charm there was someone speaking of him with decided malice, disguised envy. Unlike the others in the room, Roy Mustang was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth - he was raised in a bar (occasionally turned brothel), for goodness’ sake!

Relative to the people of this perfectly manufactured world, therefore, he’s practically made from nothing. An anomaly amongst the crowd of corporate darlings who’ve always had the backs of their disgustingly wealthy families to ride on.

Which, of course, made him quite the topic of discussion.

Once upon a time, the yammerings and yakkings might have bothered him, but he’s learnt to disregard the irrelevant thoughts of others. It’s all background noise to him, and if he’s being unabashedly honest he would even admit that he’s come to even revel and relish in such gossip. For he’s made his way here, to this exclusive circle, and being able to unravel the insecurities of the rich with his mere dastardly presence certainly did wonders to his ego.

“Are you alright, Mister Mustang?” The girl sitting across him (what’s her name again?) asks pleasantly, but there’s a hint of well-disguised jealousy to her honey-sweet voice.

“Why, of course,” he replies distractedly, placating her with a reassuring smile before turning back to observing a certain blonde.

Finally, Riza turns to meet his gaze - but it’s met with a baleful glare, as if she’s admonishing him for even existing .  

Despite her infuriation, though, she’s quick to resume her role as the civilised, well-bred lady. Riza turns back to the other bachelors sitting with her after that moment of self-indulgence, keeping up her semblance of perfect calm amidst bubbling champagne and scandalous gossip and julienned vegetables.

Roy grimaces internally. Of course she would be angry at his sudden reappearance, after his equally abrupt disappearance.

The girl - ah, yes, Cornelia - tries again, resting a palm atop his knee under the table. “So, what are your... preferences?” she asks coyly.

Roy observes her for a brief moment. She’s a waifish lady with splendid brown curls, styled to perfection.  

“Brunettes,” the lie slips from his lips naturally.

It works like a charm. Cornelia Adler lets out an easy laugh, spilled with prodigality; a blush gracing her delicate features as she sends a coquettish wink his way and sits a little more upright to better display her willowy physique.

Roy smirks appreciatively in response, if only to mask the guilt beginning to flare up his throat.

The wine quells it, but only slightly. Despite the chatter and laughter around him his mind continues to wander back to a certain blonde incessantly (of course, blondes were his definite preference, but Miss Adler didn’t need to know that). For as much as he wanted things to go back to how they were, he knew he’d done wrong by Riza. Terribly, terribly wrong.

And though he was inclined to think that his departure was… explicable, he wasn’t sure if she would even be willing to hear his explanations.

In the end, Roy simply resigns to playing the role of a conceited flirt to belie the turmoil stirring within. The other ladies on the table make his job exceedingly simple, and he does his level best to keep up with Miss Adler’s mindless chatter with well-timed laughter and rakish smiles.  

~x~

As was tradition at every debutante that marked the official joining of society, females were required to dance and socialise with the eligible bachelors lined up before them after dinner. Elizabeth Hawkeye, now a stunning lady of twenty-one was no exception.

She queues reluctantly behind a slender brunette as she awaits her turn, feeling every bit like a lamb about to be led to the slaughterhouse.

Her first companion whisks her into a slow dance eagerly. The first song of the night is a traditional waltz - rather unfortunate, if Riza said so herself. Slow dances were, in her opinion, one of the worst inventions of mankind, because it was the perfect opportunity for mundane, aimless conversations.  

“So, Miss Hawkeye,” her partner says, in a husky voice which he must have wrongly assumed to be - seductive? “Has anyone had the good fortune of catching your eye yet this lovely evening?”

“No,” she replies curtly. Most certainly not you, if that’s what you’re asking.  

“What a pity, Miss Hawkeye. You’ve caught the eye of many gentlemen, myself included.” She shrugs casually, unimpressed by his flirting.

“How are your shares faring?” Riza asks disinterestedly, but he takes to the bait like a fish. Almost immediately he launches into a speech about how they’ve never been performing better - with the recent acquisition his company has only expanded in size, and the share prices have only been going up ever since.

Surely, a remarkable feat for someone who’s not even thirty yet -!

“All in a day’s work,” he quips. Riza doesn’t even remember his name, but she manages a dry chuckle.

His ramble continues, peppered with a witty joke here and there; an eloquence reeking of opulence. Riza’s lips tug upwards with practiced politeness, but if she’s being honest she doesn’t care at all. Regardless, she’s content to listen to white noise instead of having to do any further unnecessary talking, and he’s more than happy to stroke his own ego in front of the blonde.

Finally, the song ends, and Riza manages to get a momentary reprieve when he finally lets go of her hand.

It doesn’t last for long, though. From her peripheral vision she catches a glimpse of a certain - damned horse! - again. It’s an unwelcome barb at an old wound, one that could’ve been easily avoided if she had just been a little wiser.

Ah, the folly of man.  

Because, god - it’d been so easy at the start, when they were just somewhere in between acquaintances and friends, back when she was still just Riza Hawkeye. Eventually, though, his aunt had pointed out that she was the perfect girl with the perfect family to raise his social standing, to turn his pipe dreams into a reality with their wealth and power and connections.  

And Riza, naive, silly Riza had agreed. He'd been the ideal candidate to stave off the many bachelors who looked at her with yearning and desire, and suited her purposes just as well.

So really, it was a win-win for the both of them.

Riza had thought of him as tolerable, at the very least. He was someone whom she could sustain a conversation with, and was most certainly preferable to another loaded chauvinist who just wanted her to look nice at galas and giggle prettily and flutter her eyelashes.

Eventually, it became a rather - dare she say, enjoyable? - companionship. Between dinners under crystal chandeliers and brunch at posh cafes, it seemed like something more than what either of them had bargained for had developed - trust? - a luxury that the wealthy darlings of their world sadly could not afford. Everything was going fine, though there was nothing to make the relationship ‘official’ (because the term girlfriend sounded disgustingly juvenile to Riza’s ears, as did its counterpart).

And then, Roy had left without a word, jetting off somewhere to pursue his lofty dreams with the financial backing from her family. Her family, of all things. It made her feel like she’d been nothing more than a pawn on his chessboard, and it didn’t take long for her to come to loathe him in his absence.

Riza Hawkeye had her pride, after all, and she was not going to let herself be used by some manipulative bastard who conceived of her as nothing more than his one-way ticket to high society. So excuse her if she was affronted, angered by his sudden reappearance; if she couldn’t keep up with all the niceties and gaieties, because - damn it! - she had every right to be.  

She feels his gaze lingering on her again, but before he can so much as utter a word she’s ushered to another bachelor again.

The torturous cycle repeats itself.

It’s a welcome distraction for once, though. Riza would rather dance with the sandy blonde droning on about his investments and yacht parties and how beautiful she looks, than the raven-haired bastard inching dangerously closer towards her.

Patience, Roy thinks, as he waits for his turn to finally dance (and talk) with Riza. There’s an uncomfortable lump in his throat, and though he tries to attribute it to the cool, dry air and the countless conversations he’s had to sustain for the night it’s undeniably because of nervousness.  

Nonetheless, he plays it off suavely. The ladies are absolutely enthralled by him. Roy allows a pleased smirk to grace his handsome features before switching partners again.

~x~

“A dance for the lovely lady?”

Riza rolls her eyes, but not wanting to cause a scene and draw any more attention to herself she obliges. Very begrudgingly.

Roy takes her hand gently in his, resting the other on her cinched waist as they glide smoothly across marble like old lovers dancing to a familiar tune - but he can almost feel the displeasure radiating off her skin, despite the gloves separating their palms.

“Fate must be so kind to reunite us like this -”

Riza grips his hand so hard, he can almost feel an incoming fracture. Her stiff upper lip makes it clear that she’s not interested in idle chatter. “This is a fate worse than death, if I do say so myself.”

He ceases the fruitless flirting and keeps his mouth shut. Roy’s lips are pursed in a tight smile as he continues to lead her in the dance.

The tension between them feels like a violin string strung far too tightly, waiting to snap and slap him in the face at any moment. It’s an unsettling, almost eerie silence, and he scrambles for something appropriate to say in order to break it.

Nothing comes to mind. The quietness lingers, along with Riza’s frown. He swallows, guiding her awkwardly as they continue to dance.

Mercifully, the orchestra begins to play a faster-paced waltz. Five steps per measure. The words lay unspoken on his tongue as they concentrate on the steps, adjusting to the rhythm. Roy spins her once, twice. Her dress flutters gracefully as she twirls, a lovely shade of blue that matches her hair, the way the sky complements the sun, and is -

Coincidentally, the exact same shade as Roy’s tie.

Riza blanches visibly when she realises this. Any fondness for the dress she’s wearing (which, even then, didn’t amount to much) disappears into thin air immediately, and Riza finds herself suddenly overcome with the overwhelming desire to change out of her gown and perhaps incinerate it afterwards.

Roy, on the other hand, thinks she looks positively divine, and is somewhat pleased that they match even without any prior planning. Before he can control himself, the words pour out like a gushing stream. “You look stunning, Riza.”

The string snaps.

“Who said we were on a first name basis, Mister Mustang ?” she asks, hostility clouding her vision.

For the first time that night, Roy feels his confidence beginning to crumble, but he keeps himself in check. “I do apologise for my impoliteness, Miss... Hawkeye...” he trails off unsurely, but decides that it’s now or never. “Amongst many other things.”

She doesn’t respond. Roy tries again, waltzing her in time with the tempo. “I mean it, I’m really sorry, Ri -”

“The fact that you vanished for years without a word after using me for your dastardly plans is really helping your point, I’m sure,” Riza remarks drily before he can finish addressing her by her first name - the bloody temerity of him to do so, really - once more.

Silence falls upon them once more as the elephant in the room finally makes its grand appearance. Riza feels the familiar jabbing of the old wound that she’d buried deep within her heart once again. It’s uncomfortable, almost painful, but she purses her lips tightly instead of making her hurt known.

“You… you have every right to be angry with me.”

It’s the first thing he gets right the entire evening. “You’re right on that front, at least.”

Roy, at least, had the decency to look shamefaced. He’s speechless for a moment, but he lets his yearning, his longing for her make itself known. “You can’t deny the chemistry we have, though,” he murmurs under his breath, leaning closer to her.

“Had,” she corrects sharply. “And the last I remembered, you managed to blow up quite a number of things during your chemistry experiments.”

The insinuation behind her witty comeback is clear. You’ve blown this one up too.  

Roy swallows, choosing his next words carefully. “Look, I’m… well, I’m aware that whatever I did wasn’t the nicest -”

“Lovely to know that your self-awareness has improved, but I’m not some piece of garbage you can recycle after you’ve realised what it’s worth.”

It’s a bit of a struggle for him to keep up with the beat now, but they continue their dance nevertheless. Being accomplished social dancers themselves, it’s easy to make their movements look natural, graceful like flowing water despite the ongoing argument.

Roy doesn’t have an answer. No matter his explanations, there’s an undeniably painful truth to her acerbic words.

Nevertheless, he’s always had a bit of a short fuse - one that only worsens whenever he doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions. The guilt that’s been lingering in his throat all night finally makes itself known in the form of an indignant retort. “I never said that you were a piece of garbage,” he bites. “And… I’m genuinely trying to make amends here, but you’re not even giving me a chance, Ri -”

“What’ve you done to even deserve one?” Riza counters angrily.

“I’m back now, aren’t I?”

“And how, pray tell, is that supposed to make anything better?”

Their steps slow down as the orchestra’s playing draws near to a close. “Because…” Didn’t you miss me while I was gone?  

“If you thought I’d just wait around, pining for you during your absence…” There’s a traitorous spark of hope that lights up in Roy’s heart, but it’s instantaneously trampled upon. “You’re terribly wrong.”

The song finally ends, as does their dance. “Well, have a wonderful evening.” Riza flashes him a beatific smile before kicking his shin with the pointed tip of her stiletto. Hard. “And break a leg.”

“I think I just did,” Roy manages to sputter out weakly.

Riza gives him a patronising, unsympathetic pat on the shoulder before storming off, leaving him alone on the dance floor with a bruised leg and an equally bruised ego.

[untilthenextencore]

Kashmir Pt.1

As usual forever editing~.

Enjoy~!

...

Wandering blithely through his castle Robert sighed. It was now just past teatime & Lord Kidderminster had exhausted just about every form of entertainment that he could think to occupy himself, his mind or his time with. His affairs were all but done for the day and yet the day itself was far from done. And since he had decided to extend his morning ride earlier that day, even that beloved pasttime was off the table for the time being.

He had spent the day with his old friend Jimmy, or as he was known in the public sphere Lord Heston of Middlesex. Yet the mercurial older gentleman was not much in the mood for sunny pleasantries - when was he ever~?! - certainly not after he & Robert took their conversation into the library where it was then cut short by the fellow Count picking up a hefty, rather ancient looking tome off of one shelf & becoming quickly invested. When Robert jokingly asked if Jimmy would like to be left alone with his "new precious little thing" he was surprised - only initially - to find that the answer was a yes. And so he left "Old Blackbeard" to his own ever mysterious devices.

Suffice to say that Lord Heston's company left a lot to be desired that day...

Gazing out his window for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, Robert was stunned to find that the light rain that had been falling for some time, had recently ceased, giving the surrounding fields an almost dreamy haze. Mystical. The light from the sun peeking through & refracting through the lingering haze, shattering into shards of color that reached out into the misty air.

Through the mists Robert saw movement by a nearby pond. Intruders! Hooligans! Drunkards! No... Wait... Women... Girls in fact!... Young girls at that!... Two of them... A blonde & a brunette... Both dressed in while brief slip dresses until all of a sudden one wasn't. "Oh!" Robert gasped at the sight. She slipped out of her slip dress, laying it on the grass nearby as she dipped into the pond squealing a bit at the cold & then motioning for her dark haired friend to do the same. Robert watched the scene with rapt attention unaware that his lips were parting with the rasped request. "Oh, please God, yes!"

Indeed, outside at the pond the young strawberry blonde Sibella or Sibby was indeed trying to get her young dark haired friend Charissa or Rissa to join her. "C'mon, Rissa!" She laughed, splashing about both to acclimate to the cold water & to tease her shyer friend. They had started the day in gauzy white dresses with crowns made of little pink and white flowers. Her dress had since been discarded after the freak midday shower, both of their flower crowns bleeding petals into their hair.

Rissa gazed warily at her bold young friend, now as naked as the day she was born. She folded her right arm across her midsection, hand braced against the crook of her elbow. "I don't know, Sibby... This is an awfully big place here... Whoever owns this place probably owns this little pond thing too. Get dressed. Maybe we should go?"

Sibby just scoffed." Oh my God! You're such a scaredy cat! You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" Rissa gazed at Sibby in confusion, leading to another incredulous scoff from the older girl.

"This place is Wolverhampton Manor! A bit away from Wolverhampton true but it is so named due to that being a favored haunt of the owner of this manor, Count K also known as Count Robert Plant, Robert Anthony Plant Lord Kidderminster of Worcestershire. His dearest friends included a driver who came into a title from a distant relative Count John Henry Bonham, Lord Clewer of Berkshire. And the most notorious rakehell of his day Count James Patrick Page Lord Heston of Middlesex."

The list of names and titles and places made Rissa's head spin, prompting her to exclaim with an incredulous laugh. "How do you know these things?!"

Sibby just shrugged. "I read about it in study hall once. Fastest I've ever gone through a history book in my life! Shame they're all gone now. From what I've heard they were gorgeous men the lot of them. But a lot of rumors surround them all. Things you wouldn't believe!"

"I bet." Rissa laughed. "What else could get you to read a history book so fast?"

This made Sibby laugh. "Yeah. Well, c'mon! You don't even have to undress if you don't want to. Just hop in!"

"Oh, all right!" Rissa sighed through her laughter. At last the ever irrepressible Sibby had won!

At last Rissa dipped into the pond, inching in until it was at chest height, the same as dear Sibby. She shivered intermittently as she acclimated to the chilly water herself before casting a quick look at her surroundings, musing with a wry grin that she hoped veiled her still frazzled nerves. "I could swear I saw the curtains up in the manor shift a little. In a room or two. Not sure."

Sibby just grinned. "You just hit one of the rumors I've heard on the head!"

"What?" Rissa hushed.

"Well..." Sibby looked around herself as if she were sharing a secret in a crowded room & not the open field bereft of anyone but them that they were in. She then leant in & spoke also in a hush, this one a bit more excited. "They say that the Counts were all part of this thing called the Order of Kashmir..."

...

Back in the library Jimmy was laid down on the exquisite bearskin rug, the heavy, cracked, leather-bound volume beside him. His eyes were closed, all of his senses were focused on the room around him.

Shifting was a difficult skill to master, even with his centuries of experience in magick, & required full concentration, & full synchronisation with the magician’s environment. One had to taste, scent, touch, see & hear the magick in the air. See with the heart & the mind, see with internal eyes. The desired shape must appear as real before the magician as his own hands before his own eyes.

It was fiercely complicated, & shifting into the Hermit came with its own set of dangers. The spirit of the Hermit was notoriously possessive of magicians & querents, & if not approached respectfully, humbly, or honestly, could be killed trying to divine his wisdom.

He could feel the shift beginning, the air taking in true texture around him, wrapping him in, binding the consciousness of Lord Heston in place, allowing the rest of him to merge with the Hermit, physically & mentally.

When he next opened his eyes, he could feel the changes, the new form. The Hermit craved sunlight, needing to regenerate his form, leading him to the ceiling-length window, surveying the now-damp meadows sparkling in the sunlight.

A darting flash near the pond, a subsequent splash drew their eye. Two young ladies splashing about in the sun-warming water, their giggles echoing even to them in the library.

Golden faerie maidens. Theirs the purest of magicks, the strongest potential of the senses.

Both of them - the Hermit & Lord Heston - felt deep stirrings at the sight of the splashing maids, one stirring at the magickal pull of the girls, the other stirring at the more erotic potential of such youth & beauty.

...

Robert could hardly tear himself away from the window in his room as he watched the girls frolic & splash about. Both of them were finally in the water, laughing & talking, though he could not quite make out what was being said. Both young ladies were, he could tell, in the ripeness of health & youth, all curves & soft skin, reminding him of his own glowing memories of springtime swims in the pond, as well as the interludes that often followed such swims in later years.

He licked at his dry lips, considering how he might entice them to explore the grounds further. He wondered if they’d discovered his apple & lemon orchards yet... Both were in full bloom, both his apples & lemons deliciously ripe & sweet... The scents were legendary for perfuming the countryside in high spring & summer - if the girls had not found it, he knew they surely would soon. Perhaps then, he might introduce himself to them...

...

"Order of Kashmir?" Came the reply from Rissa along with another curious look.

"Yes. They called it the Order of Kashmir. A list of nobility at the time - a relatively small list but a list no less - all were said to have joined this secret order that gave them powers or something. Vampires. Immortal spirits or the like. They say people still spot them around the grounds and areas of their old Manors, Castles & Haunts. All around the world there are sightings of the Counts and others said to be in the Order. Kashmirites some call them. Kashmirite Sightings. They're in all the papers. Especially gossip rags though."

"The same ones that talk of UFOs, Big Foot & the Loch Ness Monster?" Charissa snickered.

"Seriously! Though I have to admit after reading about the Order I was kind of hoping that in making this trip that we could maybe have a chance at catching... At finding... At sighting a few Kashmirites... Look!" She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocketbook nearby. It had a picture - a collage - of the Kashmirites. Messrs. Lords. Page. Plant. Bonham. Jones. Coverdale. Beck. The list went on. Sibby then showed Charissa her latest books that she had been carrying on the subject. One was a rundown on the lives of the mysterious Lords. The other was on the Order of the Kashmir as a whole & Kashmirites as a subject. Charissa was nothing less than stunned. "Well! I'll be darned!"

"Mmm-hmm..." Sibby nodded. "They say the ringleader of sorts or at least the one the deepest into the order, higher up in the ranks or something, was Rakehell Page. He was said to be like a wizard or something!"

Charissa couldn't help but laugh at this now, prompting Sibby's squealed reply. "I'm serious! Seriously! Seriously, Rissa! He--..."

Whatever her next words were to be as a loud clap of thunder sounded, emanating seemingly from above the Manor as another sheet of rain began to fall over the grounds. This prompted the two young girls to shriek & scurry to climb out of the pond. Sibby hurried into her dress. Charissa helped Sibby gather her books. Sibby in return helped Rissa out of her dress so the two of them could wring it out, where she then began to help her friend back into it. She had only barely managed to get the dress to cover the peaks of Charissa's breasts when...

Just then...

A male voice called out to them...

"Well, well, well... What's all this now?..."

The two girls whipped their heads in the direction of the voice where they were met by the sight of a tall, regal looking gentleman all flowing blonde curls, turquoise jewelry & long flowing cape draped over his shoulders. Steel blue eyes pierced them both as dimples popped both near the corners of his upwardly curving mouth & in the center of his chin as he teased them with a wry Cheshire Cat grin. "To what do I owe this extreme pleasure?" His eyes raked over their bodies with those words. Sibby's with her dress clinging to her in places & Rissa with hers hardly on, barely over her nipples revealing the expanse of creamy curved flesh below. This she remedied quickly, hurriedly taking over from Sibby & pulling her dress back down in a huff, face burning with the heat of both his gaze & her subsequent blush.

When the girls couldn't manage to do more in response to his question than gape, stammer & stumble over their words, a great many of which were "Um... Uh... Well... I... We... You see... I, uh--... Ahem..." He just chuckled, holding two other capes out to them. "Come now, loves. It's frightful out here." He crossed over & draped the rich, warm fabrics over their trembling forms as he draped an arm around each of them, leading them ahead towards the door. "Let's go inside & see if we can't get you warmed up."

The girls nodded shyly, not sure of what to do past that. But as they neared the door to the Manor, Rissa turned towards Sibby & hushed one word where only she could hear, motioning almost imperceptibly to the tall, striking, dimpled blonde gentleman in between them. "Nessie~..."

...

The storm had come again, in earnest this time, the thunder drowning out the pained gurgling scream from the library. Both the Hermit & Lord Heston had been stirred by the sight of the girls, Lord Heston the most, & had summarily lost control of the shift, causing a physically painful, albeit temporary, rending of the shared consciousness.

The Hermit retreated further inward to maintain balance, as Lord Heston gathered himself in kind, the pain fading, but the memory keen.

The brunette had been worth such a blow, however. Lush, sweet softness beneath such a delicate frock... the unexpected surprise of her innocent nakedness stirring Heston to half-hardness...

And the wretched timing of the lord of the manner! Scooping up both maidens in one fell swoop, undoubtedly promising them sweet porridge & hot tea, promising to dry their frocks at his fireside, as the three of them romped & frolicked in his bed. No doubt that by nightfall, Robert would have two new beauties to count among his wives & lovers, fully turned & waiting for their own feasts.

He would have damned The Hermit himself, had he been able to do so easily. No, he had chosen to take this form today, this hour, not knowing the girls had been on the estate. No, if he desired one, he & Robert would simply have to share. And indeed the shyer, dark-haired beauty already haunted their mind, awakened a delicious need in Heston’s entire being, & intrigued the Hermit’s sensitive intuition. Both of them desired to see the girl, & they would do so, whether Robert liked it or not.

...

Robert led the girls through the door & into the palatial manor which was lit by a litany of candles in in little holders tucked into nooks carved in the wall, chandeliers, candelabras and candlesticks everywhere. It gave the whole place a warm, inviting glow along with a warmth that was only amplified by the fire roaring in the fireplace. He had large, fluffy towels laid out for them of which he grabbed two, handing one to each girl. "Here you are, loves. Care for a spot of tea? Might help you warm up after getting caught in such a dreadful storm."

"Thank you." Came the girl's response in unison. Both were standing still gazing around at their environs in complete shock. Charissa was the first to move slightly, only to pat herself dry with the towel. A slight moan fell from her lips at the feel of the softness of the fabric against her skin, followed by another from Sibby when she did the same.

Robert couldn't help but to grin at that, dimples popping as he laughed. "Feelin better already, eh? Well come, sit." He removed his cloak as well as those of the ladies, chuckling as they promptly covered themselves with their towels, draping them over their shoulders & carefully perching on more towels laid out on a settee opposite him & his large stately chair. He went about pouring their tea to their specifications which they mumbled out while still in a state of shock about it all. It was all very innocent, their surroundings very comforting & their host was nothing if not charming but they still couldn't help but stare at him openly, try as they might to hide it. It led Robert to perk an eyebrow at the two maidens as he handed them their cups. "Hmmm? What? What is it? Is there something on my face? I certainly hope not?" He teased with a smile, feeling around his cheeks, patting them playfully.

"No!" Again the response came in unison. Before they traded off every few words. Sibby first. "No, it's... It's not that... It's... It's just..." And then Charissa. "...She thinks you look like someone... Someone quite familiar..."

"Oh?" Robert tilted his head. "Someone you know?" And then his eyes fell to the books clutched in their little hands. Ah-ha!

"I see... Interested in the Kashmirites are you? Is that how you found yourselves here? Seeking things related to the Order? Counts? Count Kidderminster? Lord Kidderminster and all?"

The replies were now mixed. Sibby was seemingly contrite, ashamed at her inquisitive nature, her nosiness. She dropped her head & nodded, admitting in a small voice. "Yes..." Charissa was nothing if not firm however, shaking her head. "No!" Then taking her contrite friend's admission into account she relayed the following to the now snickering blonde man. "She was. I just came as a tagalong so she wouldn't be alone."

Robert nodded thoughtfully, still with a trace of the teasing smirk on his lips. "I see. And would that be who you think I resemble by any chance, dears? Ah! Now that I think of it... I've never even asked your name! How dreadfully rude of me! Please forgive me... Praytell what are your names, ladies?"

He finally got his answer as to who the maidens - who he was fighting the urge to lick his lips as he took in the sight of them in those damp, filmy white frocks which clung to them just so - were. It was only fair that he caught their names since he was currently contemplating them as prospective bed partners. He got a "Charissa." From the shy brunette. And a "Sibella." From the curious blonde. The brunette growing curious herself, only enough to ask the obvious. "And you are~?..."

Robert couldn't help but grin at that. As his grin peaked, another clap of thunder sounded startling the two girls into jumping into each other's arms with a shriek. Robert felt his urges rising. That was the cause of the thunder. His deep seated urges were awakening to them. Senses on high. He hungered for them. Both of them. Their innocence. Their energy. Their pureness. Pure energy. Purity both of heart & of spirit. It intoxicated him. He swore he could smell it.

He got a scent of peaches and cherries from them. Mingled with that was a hint of apples and lemons. Signs that they belonged here? Were meant to be here? He wasn't exactly sure. He'd worry about that later. Maybe he'd ask Pagey later.

But wait...

PAGEY!...

The storm...

The way it started...

Grew so intense so soon...

Centering over his house...

His castle...

High above the one tower in the center...

The one that contained the library...

The library that contained Pagey & that one mysterious tome of his...

The library which was now emitting strange energies to him...

Pagey always had a strange energy to him...

But this...

This here...

This...

This was different...

This was...

This was...

This was like Pagey but on a whole new level!

He couldn't put his finger on it but the vibrations that Pagey was now emitting were strange... Too strange...

Even for him...

And it all started with the arrival of these girls...

Thinking back he realized the window from the library also faced out towards the pond that the girls had frolicked in...

Had Pagey seen them too?

He found himself laughing internally at the question. A bittersweet laugh that turned into a low growl of a single word spoken under his breath as he grit his teeth & balled his fist up, sending back an energy of his own, protective, defensive & yes even a bit greedy towards his newfound houseguests.

The word. Simple. It was a place.

A place that he wished a certain dark haired friend of his were still residing in just then. Preferably locked away in a different tower in a different castle at that. Or even dungeon knowing his reputation.

"Heston..."

[formeandmyfics]

Tu Me Manques (I Miss You)

JUGENEA FAN FICTION

Spring 1951 Paris, France

Judy Garland’s full orchestra exuberantly played ‘Over the Rainbow’ concluding the end of her concert at the Théâtre Édouard VII. Judy stood center stage, lit up by a spotlight, glowing like an angel.

She was slightly out of breath from her last boisterous note and from all the excitement from the evening, her only show in Paris during this European tour. Her audience stood on its feet with thunderous applause and encored cheers. She mouthed ‘thank you’, her scarlet lips in full smile, before her eyes darted to a particular spot in the front row that she’d been glancing at all evening.

Gene slightly smiled, his eyes twinkling as he took a few steps forward and tossed a single yellow rose over the orchestra pit, landing at her black spiked heels. She bent down and picked it up but before she had time to respond to her ex-lover’s gesture, two stage hands came out of the wings with bouquet of flowers almost swallowing her. Her standing ovation lasted for a few minutes until she willfully left the stage.

“Yep, he’s out there. He’s talking to Louis Jourdan.”

Dottie peered her eye out the small crack of Ms. Garland’s dressing room door. A crowd of people chatted right outside waiting for Judy to re-emerge. A few of the people in the crowd were celebrities (as most had already seen her in London) but the majority were hobnobs and the French press.

“Do you want me to let him in?”

Judy came out from her dressing curtain in a black cocktail dress that accentuated her curves and cleavage.

“No, I think I’ll just head to Le Jazz with Anthony. Are there a lot of journalists out there?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go out the back way then.”

“Shall I tell Mr. Kelly where you’ll be?”

Judy reapplied her velvet lipstick and raised her eyebrow matter-of-factly, “No.”

“I thought you wanted to see him?”

“I do.”

Dottie looked at her friend mischievously which Judy caught in the reflection of the mirror.

“If he wants to see me, he’ll find me.”

“And if he doesn’t show up?”

“His loss,” Judy said over her shoulder before she walked out of the private door of the dressing room.

Gene Kelly ignored the few photographers standing outside Le Jazz, a popular celebrity spot in the Paris nightlife. In the lobby, famous french actress Josette Day and husband Maurice Salvoy enthusiastically waved to him as he headed towards the coat check. Gene smiled and waved back but his eyes scanned the crowd for a particular dark-haired beauty. After handing the coat-checker girl his Fedora, he head into the main ballroom.

Even with the crowd gathered around the tables and dancing on the dance floor, he spotted her right away as he stood there on top the stairs. Smiling, Gene placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it as he started down the stairs.

Judy softly swayed to the slow music and her expression was very melancholy. Fortunately, her partner couldn’t see her face. She had stopped herself from sighing quite a few times so she wouldn’t be questioned by her date. Was it impatience? Disappointment? Maybe both. Where the hell was he?

She closed her eyes trying to relax her anxiety and let the seductive music fill her senses. However, her eyes shot open was she felt a hand slide slightly down her backside. As she reached back moving that hand off of her, she saw Gene across the crowd navigating his way towards her. She perked up but stayed in the other man’s arms as her eyes kept contact. Gene didn’t look at her as he found an empty chair at a table right in front of them. Once he got comfortable, then he looked up at her…smiling.

Judy perched her lips, trying to hide her smile as Gene just sat there casually, not at all bothered by her close proximity to her young dance partner. This amused her and she kept an enticing expression on her face as she danced slowly, staring at Gene just a few feet away.

Gene motioned with a nod and mouthed ‘Whose the asshole?’ Judy couldn’t help but silently giggle which had Gene break out in a wide smile before he took another drag of his smoke.  When the song ended, Gene watched as Judy excused herself from the man and headed towards the back of the club.

Judy came out of the washroom and was a tad startled to see Gene leaning against the wall.

“Waiting for me outside the ladies room…how gallant of you.”

“What makes you think I’m waiting for you?”

Judy laughed, “Well, unless there’s a male friend in the next washroom, I doubt there’s another woman in there you’d be waiting for.”

“You don’t know that. The next woman who comes out of there could be who I’m waiting for.”

Judy laughed again. She missed his game. “Oh, really?”

Just then a middle-aged blonde woman, rather plump, walked out of the ladies room. She did a double take on them before she walked in between them with an appalled expression.

Gene looked at Judy wide-eyed and she smiled opening her palm towards the woman’s direction, “Be my guest.”

Embarrassed, he chuckled wiping his eyebrow, “I think I’m good.”

“Not your type?”

“Nope. I prefer brunettes.”

“Oh. That all?”

“No, I also like ‘em short.”

“She was short.”

“About four foot eleven short,” he corrected her.

Judy smiled, “What a coincidence,” and turned to walk back.

He followed closely behind, “With deep brown eyes, full lips, a melodic voice and…” Gene took ah old of her hand stopping her, “Someone who gives as good as she gets in the sac.”

“My dates waiting,” she responded visible unfazed. Inside she was tingling.

“Date?” Gene spat out.

“Ye-e-es,” she hummed.f

“Who is he?”

“Anthony Burrows.”

“Anthony Burrows,” he mimicked, “Sounds like a dick.”

“Don’t be so crass, darling. It’s unflattering.”

Gene followed as they maneuvered around the dance floor, “What’s he do?”

“He used to be a contract player at Metro.”

“Oh, keeping it in the old Alma mater, huh?”

“We have mutual friends.”

“He looks like a 21-year-old rich boy.”

“He’s a year younger than I am. Stop being jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m just wondering what you’re doing with an ex-MGM puppet.”

“I’ve known him for years. He was actually one of the boys in the Embraceable You number on Girl Crazy.”

“Oh, how nice for him, “Gene sarcastically responded as he pulled a chair out for her at the currently empty table.

“And if you’ve forgotten, I’m also an ex-MGM puppet.”

“No, you were a talent that they took advantage of. There’s a difference. What’s that Burrow’s talented at?”

Judy played along slyly, “I’m too much of a lady to say.”

Gene looked up in mid-light of his french cigarette but when he saw the gleam in her eye, he knew she was teasing him.

“Please. I bet just the thought of him being with Judy Garland makes him so nervous he couldn’t even get it up.”

Judy glanced to the side hoping no one heard his unfiltered talk. She raised an eyebrow and tapped her nails on the table, “You were with Judy Garland and had no problems in that department.”

“Because I was with Frances Gumm, my best friend. He thinks you’re Dorothy.”

Both of their earlier smiles had faded with his last words. He was right. Not only about his assumption with Anthony but about their relationship, which had ended back in September. That’s when she was officially terminated from MGM. Her marriage had also been suffering. She had needed to get away. With Gene’s marriage also on the rocks, the two mutually, but disappointingly, decided to stop their affair- a love affair that had been going on since their first picture in 1942.

Judy took a long vacation, spending most of it with Liza. When she returned, she was happy, healthy, sun-tanned and mentally intact. But, it was clear her marriage to Vincente was over. She moved to New York for the separation.

During those seven months, Gene busied himself in work, though without Judy around the lot, it was a very different atmosphere considering she had been there since he came to Metro. His marriage didn’t exactly pan out either. His love and grief of Judy’s absence in his life after nearly ten years caused him so much depression that he chose work over his wife, though always made time for his daughter.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to find me,” Judy said lightning the mood.

“Oh, you were expecting me to come find you, huh?”

“I had a feeling you might.”

“Is that why you darted out after the concert, to play hide-and-go-seek?”

“I was avoiding the photographers,” She half fibbed.

“I could have snuck out with you.”

“I had a date, didn’t want a third-wheel.”

“Had being the operative word.”

“Have,” she murmured almost forgetting Anthony was still around somewhere.

“Oh, here he comes now, Metro toy, chorus boy.”

Judy turned as Anthony walked up with two drinks, “Here you are Judy. I was wondering where you ran off to.”

“I ran into an old friend.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Kelly How are you? Nice to see you again.”

Shaking the man’s hand, Gene became confused, “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“A few times actually. Tony Burrows. I used to work at Metro, but the last time we met was at the golf course in Palm Springs last year. I was on Sinatra’s team, when we beat you out of a thousand bucks for the last swing.”

Gene look taken a back as Judy put her finger to her lips stifling a giggle.

“Oh, yes, how could I forget.”

“You’re a good golfer.”

“Apparently not good enough,” he mumbled.

Gene noticed Anthony’s arm go on the back of Judy’s chair and just that unknowing, simple gesture made him want to punch the dweeb.

“You two were in two pictures together, right?”

“Six,” Gene corrected.

Anthony immediately furrowed his brow.

“Three we starred in together,” Judy double corrected, “The other three were guest spots, we didn’t work together.”

“Oh, I see. Well, unfortunately, Miss Garland and I only worked on one picture together.”

“Girl Crazy, right? On of the penguins on the Embraceable You number she said?”

Judy darted dark eyes towards Gene, which he ignored.

Tony chuckled, “Yes, sir. It was fun though.”

“Until you fella’s started spinning that darn piano. I thought I was going to fall off.”

She and Anthony laughed at their shared memory.

“Nah, I would’ve caught you.”

“Of course you would’ve, darling.”

Gene was now the one to glare dark eyes at Judy’s flirtation.

A friend came over and sat down next to Anthony to which they started chatting. Judy noticed Gene reach for another cig and she put her hand over his to calmly stop his chain-smoking, a habit she hated. He complied and relaxed when she kept her hand on top his. He linked his thumb against one of her fingers and played with her familiar soft skin. He also noticed the absence of her wedding ring.

“So, the rumors are true with you and Vince, huh?”

She nodded, “It just wasn’t going to work out. But we’re still good friends.”

“That’s good, especially for Liza’s sake.”

“I’m surprised you don’t know, working together on An American in Pairs and all.”

“I don’t ask him personal questions. Speaking of Vince, was he at the show tonight since you’re in town? I didn’t see him.”

“No, he’s with Liza. She’s got a cold and didn’t want to stay with the Nanny.”

“Oh, poor thing. She’ll bounce back quick, just like her mother.”

“Thank you.”

“It was good to hear you sing again.”

Judy turned to face him more, with gusto, “It feels good to sing again, particularly up there on stage.”

“I could tell. It’s like you’re home again, isn’t it?”

“Yes. After what happened in September, this offer to tour Europe was a blessing.”

“You were amazing, Judy. Your voice was stronger than I ever hear it, and you look so good. You’re glowing again.”

She spoke with emotion, “I feel good. I’m healthy. I’m enjoying life right now, more than I have for a long time.”

Through his own emotions, Gene leaned in an gave her a friendly peck on the lips, “That’s good to hear, honey. You’ve made a turn-a-round. I think those bastards firing you was the best thing for you.”

“I think so, too.”

“And ironically, those bastards hiring me was the best thing for me as it brought me to you.”

Judy smiled and looked down as they played with their fingers below the table in such a comfortable manner.

“I miss you, you know,” he whispered.

I know,” she whispered back.

“Dance with me,” he demanded more than asked.

Without a reply, he took her hand and they walked to the dance floor. Once there, they embraced closely, flirting with their smiles.

Gene sighed luxuriously holding her in his arms again looking into her eyes, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, honey,” she repeated just the same.

“You realize I haven’t danced with you since the Summer Stock premiere party?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Too long.”

“Still feel the same?”

“Yep. You look at me the same, too.”

“How is that?”

“With shiny eyes full of love and warmth, but wicked as hell…I can always tell what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?” She asked impishly.

“I’m too much of a gentleman to say, “He teased from her earlier comment.

She giggled, “You’re probably right.”

“What? That I’m a gentleman or that I’m right about your thoughts?”

Her smiled faltered, “That you’re right about my thoughts.”

Gene studied her almost shy expression and knew she was serious. His arousal was serious.

“Really?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck so their cheeks could meet. Gene inhaled her familiar perfume and pressed his hand on her lower back pulling her even closer. He nonchalantly bent his head so he could softly kiss her neck. It was just barely, but it hit an aching spark for both of them.

“Oh, Gene!”

In their trance, they turned to see Leslie Caron happily waving him over.

“Darling, I think that girl is trying to get your attention.”

“That’s Leslie Caron, my co-star in this film.”

“She’s very beautiful.”

“And she’s very much like my sister,” he reassured, “And a very huge fan of yours.”

“Oh, well then I must meet her.”

Gene ushered Judy back to their table where Anthony still sat with his buddy and where Leslie stood eagerly.

“Leslie, baby, I’d like you to meet someone.”

Judy smiled and held out her hand, “His Miss Caron, I’m Judy.”

“Oh, Miss Garland. It’s an honor to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

“Thank you so much. How nice. I’m sure after I see this movie, I’ll be a huge fan of yours as well.”

“Oh, thank you,” she blushed.

“Would you like to sit down?” Gene urged the women.

Two more mutual people came to the table and conversation was in full swing. With Judy next to Anthony again, the man placed his arm on the back of her chair once more. This time, Gene placed his hand on her thigh.

With a lull in conversation for Judy, she tried her best to concentrate at the others, but under the table, Gene’s fingers played with the hem of her dress, inching it up, touching any bare skin he could reach. His face was stone old as his fingers explored. He knew what he was doing to her. He saw a hint of a smile as she took a sip of her champagne. His digits were tantalizing, not even barely touching the places she knew he wanted to touch.

When he felt her slightly part her legs, their eyes met. His pants grew tighter. It was time to go.

“Judy, you look like you’re getting awfully tired,” Gene played.

Judy nodded faking a yawn behind her hand and Anthony immediately stood up.

“I’ll take you back to your hotel.”

Gene patiently gulped the last of his drink knowing she’d decline that offer.

“Thank you, I’d appreciate it.”

Gene’s eyes opened wide and he accidentally banged his glass on the table in shock. As Anthony helped her with her mink stole around her shoulders, Gene stood up.

“Where are you staying, Judy?”

“The Hilton.”

“And you, Tone?”

“Oh, I’m staying with family in Saint Denis.”

“Really? That’s over a half an hour drive the other direction. I’m at the Ritz down the street. I can drive her back.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you, but I don’t mind.”

“Nonsense,” Gene quipped as he helped Judy straighten the stole, “We’re right by each other. Are you ready, honey?”

“Yes,” Judy responded with an amused tone.

“See you guys later. Leslie, see you at work, doll.”

“Ok. Nice meeting you, Judy.”

“you, too, sweetie. Goodbye Anthony.”

“Bye,” he responded dumbfounded as he sat back down.

As Gene got his hat from the coat check, Judy spoke up, “You’re not staying at the Ritz. Vince told me you’re at the same hotel he is and that’s no where near the Hilton.”

Gene just smiled as he exchanged the coat check ticket with his hat.

She giggled, “You’re terrible.”

“Why’d you do that to me anyways?” he asked almost appalled.

“I wanted to see what you’d do.”

“Oh, you’re definitely going to see what I’m going to do once I get you back to your hotel.”

“Tell me. I want to be prepared,” she half-joked.

Gene spoke low as they now stood outside waiting for his town car, “I’m going to kiss you until you can’t breathe, eat you until you can’t speak and fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

Judy swallowed as they looked at each other and he continued, “And I’m going to sleep with you in my arms all night, make love to you all morning and then order up your favorite brunch while we discuss the future of our relationship now that we’re both getting divorced.”

She was so overwhelmed physically and emotionally she could not look away from him.

Gene smiled at her reaction and nodded behind her, “My car is here.”

Judy slightly jumped startled from his trance before he helped her into the back seat.

NMP

[toukenra]

Could I get some fluff? Can you write something about getting Hasebe, Nikkari, and Yamanbagiri to dance in the rain with you?╰(*´︶`*)╯I really love your blog btw. Both of the mods do a great job in their writing.

Woah. I was not expecting a lot of requests to come in after we opened the ask box. Glad to know that you guys have not lost interest! I promise to work hard on your requests alongside Mod Pancake! Don’t forget to leave a comment so we can determine on what we can improve on!

Without any further ado! Please enjoy~!

-Mod Catharia.

HASEBE

The two of you were on the way home from the Capital after attending a three day convention/meeting.

It was a nice change of pace for you since you barely left the Citadel

But for Hasebe….It was hell... yes, you read that right

Why you ask?

When you two made the journey to the Capital, both of you had to share a horse

He had to endure having your delicate back pressed against his chest and it was almost enough to send him into a heatstroke

He had to share a room with you and almost committed sepuku when he saw your bare shoulder one morning

“MY LADY! PLEASE COVER YOURSELF!” ( /)u(\ )

“…Hasebe, It’s 6: 45 AM…Calm down.”

When you two return home, you had to share the same horse again.

He had gave himself a little pep-talk in order to distract himself with thoughts of paperwork and tasks that needed to be done when you both get home.

Halfway into the journey a few ominous-looking clouds came rolling in making you both a bit wary.

…Sadly, neither of you have thought to carry an umbrella.

“It looks like it’s going to rain, Hasebe.”

“Do not fret Aruji. We are almost at the Citadel.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, you were both pelted by rain making you two squeak in surprise

The brunette immediately slips off his jacket to use as a cover for you as he urges the horse to pick up the pace

The fast movement and the wind against your cheeks did not scare you one bit but instead you laughed happily.

You both arrive home, drenched to the bone but that doesn’t damper your spirits.

He placed his hands around your waist in order to take you down the horse, a small gleeful smile appearing on your lips.

“Are you alright, Aruji?”

“Mhm. It was fun…Thank you for accompanying me again.”

“It was a pleasure, my Lady.” You grin happily as he helps you down the mare.

He is somewhat caught off guard when you keep a hold on his hand, and do a cute little twirl which makes him faintly chuckle.

He indulges you for a few moments before gently tugging you into the main hall so both of you can dry yourselves

“Come Aruji. Let’s get you inside before you get a cold.”

NIKKARI

It was a slightly damp, rainy day when you decide to take a break from work.

You have been walking through the garden underneath the protection of your umbrella.

You crouch down to observe the hydrangeas, smiling happily

“What are you doing, Aruji?”

You look up to see Nikkari Aoe standing nearby with a smile on his face, giving you a wink.

“Just taking a walk, Nikkari.” You answer bemusedly as you slowly get up. “What about you?”

“Hmm…Just admiring a flower among the weeds.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly as your cheeks turn slightly red from the compliment.

“Right. Stop teasing me, Nikkari.”

“It’s the truth, Aruji.”

Unable to resist, you flick your soaked umbrella towards the Wakizashi playfully, catching him off guard.

He shouts in surprise when he gets wet and sends you a playful grin.

You immediately make a run for it, knowing that you were in trouble.

You gave a loud laugh when he jumps from underneath the protection of the enegawa to give chase to you.

“COME BACK HERE, ARUJI!”

You abandon your umbrella and run through the courtyard, passing through the laundry which has yet to be taken down.

You release a loud squeal when the Wakizashi catches you in his arms.

Curse him for his high mobility stats

He tickles you until you beg ask for forgiveness

You breathlessly laugh, feeling him steady you when you almost toppled unto the muddy grass

“…Did you plan this to get out of work, Aruji?” He laughs while trying to fix your wet hair.

“Maybe?” You send him a cheeky smile. “Ghost stories and some snacks sound much more fun. Don’t you think?”

“WHO TRACKED MUD OVER THESE SHEETS!?”

You both stiffen when you hear a booming shout, recognizing Kasen’s voice.

Let’s say you two made a quick run for it….hoping that Kasen didn’t see either of your muddy boots while skipping over puddles…

“Hurry Aruji. Tea’s awaiting.”

YAMANBAGIRI

Today, you were able to convince Yamanbagiri to accompany you to the nearby town to gather a few supplies

You practically begged him to come with you because all your assistants were either sent on sortie, resource gathering or assigned to internal affairs

This morning, you had dutifully checked the weather and the report had claimed that it would a sunny day with only a 10% chance of rain

Tsk…You can handle a bit of water.

The two of you travel to the next town over and gather everything you needed on your list.

Halfway into the trip home, it had started raining and you immediately regretted not bringing an umbrella

“Here, Aruji.”

The blonde handed you a folding umbrella

“Ah, Thank you, Yamanbagiri.” You take the item hesitantly before looking up at your companion.. “Wait, What about you.”

“Don’t concern yourself over me.” He tugged at his hood, further hiding his face from yours. “I’m just a duplicate after all.”

You just scrunch up your face but say nothing…

The two of you brave the pouring rain as you walk home but due to the heavy downpour your poor umbrella broke.

You sigh and just accept the prospect of getting soaked.

You stand there for a few moments and Yamanbagiri immediately tries to cover you with his cloak but you decline.

“You’ll catch a cold if you do not take care, Aruji-sama.”

“Getting soaked once in a while is fine too, Manba~”

“Don’t call me that.”

You laugh faintly before holding out your hand to him.

“Might as well take this moment to have a bit of fun, don’t you agree?”

He just stares at your extended hand before sighing.

“Very well.”

He humors you, pulling you close to him and moving in a slow circle with his eyes closed.

You catch a small smile on his face but you say nothing, not wanting to disturb the moment.

“…”

[stricklandwitch]

~ Trigger Warning: Labor, Birth, Snippy Supernaturals. ~

~~~~~~~

The blonde had been up late. She had been trying to get everything in the nursery done before she had to reluctantly follow someone’s orders to relax. The room was perfect so far. Earlier on in the week, Persephone and Harper painted the nursery and TJ’s room. The nursery was reminiscent of a beautiful sunset which perfectly matched TJ’s warm yellow room. The hybrid was in the middle of arranging all the furniture in the room once again that day when she felt a cramp radiate through her stomach. She groaned quietly in pain and breathed heavily for a minute before the pain went away. Ten minutes passed by before the pain came back followed by a warm trickling liquid rolling down her thighs. Seph quickly went into action and called the hospital to let them know she was on her way then called Harper to meet her at the hospital. The blonde quickly grabbed her small suitcase then got TJ ready. She placed the child in his old carrier then grabbed the second one and off to the hospital they went.

~

~

Persephone sat up in her hospital bed, the contractions getting closer together. The blonde shuddered in pain as her nails dug into the fabric of the bed. She didn’t remember TJ’s birth hurting this much, and she read labor with twins would be similar to labor with a single. She didn’t understand why there was so much pain. The blonde felt a masculine hand wrap around hers. She looked up to see Abel, and her lips curled up into a tiny tearful smile. “Abel. You’re here.”

The male lifted her hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. “Of course, love. I’ll always be here.” His other hand went up to her head and his fingers lovingly ran through her hair. “What can I do to help? Where’s TJ?”

The blonde took a deep breath. “The nurse went to get the doctor to see how far along I am.” She squeezed his hand as the pain intensified. “TJ is with Harper in the lobby. She offered to stay out there with him till Jeremy and Annie got here.”

The mention of Harper’s name had the vampire’s brow raising, but he didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he nodded and replied. “Alright. Is there anything I can get you? A cold cloth? Ice chips?”

Seph shook her head. “No. Just please stay. With me. Please.” The look on the hybrid’s face was enough for him, so the male moved closer to her bed and stayed beside her.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, the doctor came in. “Hello, Persephone. Let’s see how far we are now.” The female went over to the fetal monitor and moved it closer to Persephone. She put two electrodes on the hybrid’s rounded stomach. The doctor finally grabbed the stool and rolled it in front of the girl. Persephone laid back and put her feet up in the stirrups. The doctor put her gloves on and moved one of her gloved hands to check the blonde’s dilation. Persephone could see the doctor look at the fetal monitor in concern. And that scared the blonde more.

“Doctor Byers… What’s wrong?”

The doctor rolled back. “Well, Ms. Strickland,” she started as she took her gloves off, “you’re at full dilation and effacement, but neither baby is progressing.” The female went back over to the monitor and studied for a moment. “And I’m worried about Baby A. Her heart rate is very slow.”

Seph looked up at Abel then looked back to the doctor. “Will she be okay? What should we do? I just want them out safely,” she said in a panicked tone.

Dr. Byers turned back to the hybrid. “I want that, too, Persephone. The safest way to get them out is a C-section. It’s fairly common in births with multiples. The risks are very low, and mother and babies should be okay.”

The blonde stayed silent for a moment before finally nodding. “Okay. Let’s have a C-section.”

The doctor gave Seph a warm and hopeful smile. “I will get an OR ready. A nurse will be in shortly to prep you. See you in there.”

Seph looked up at Abel as the doctor left. But he gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine, my love. I’ll be in the lobby waiting for you.” The vampire let his thumb stroke over the back of her hand, and he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. The nurse came in then with sickly sweet smile on her face. The couple stayed quiet just sharing a look as the nurse explained what was going to happen to her and assuring her that she and the babies would be safe. Persephone said a quick goodbye to Abel before being wheeled out of the room.

~

~

Abel went back out to the waiting room. His attention was immediately drawn to the little boy he was fond of. But he was in the arms of a tall brunette. ‘Ah, this must be the Harper Persy was talking about,’ he thought to himself. The brunette was playing a game with TJ, probably trying to distract him from wondering where his mother is. With a smile on his face, Abel went over to the two. “Oh, my goodness, TJ, you’ve gotten so big. Hi, buddy.” He went to pick the child up, but Harper pulled the child onto her lap to protect him.

The brunette gave him a glare. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are.”

Jeremy piped up from where he was sitting with Annie. “This is Abel, the love of our dearest Persephone’s life. Nice to see you again, Tylan.”

The vampire gave the younger Strickland a look. “Jeremy. A pleasure as always.” His attention turned back to the female and the child. TJ had a large grin on his tiny face and his arms were stretched out, so Abel leaned down and took the child from Harper and bounced him around slightly. “Hello, little love. How you doing? I missed you so much, bud,” Abel cooed to the child. He then looked to Harper and asked, “And who might you be?”

Jeremy opened his mouth to answer, but Harper’s glare and Annie’s smack to his arm made him quiet again. The brunette reached up to TJ and patted his little hand before answering. “Harper. Persephone’s best friend.”

“And lady love,” Jeremy muttered under his breath. He gave a shrug to Harper when her shape gaze turned to him once again. “Just saying.”

Abel raised his brow. “It seems like I have missed a lot.”

Harper rolled her eyes. “Yeah, at least three months’ worth.” Persephone had told Harper about Abel and their relationship shortly after the girls reunited.

Abel’s face went stoic, trying not to get riled up especially with TJ in his arms. “Right. And as Percy’s supposed best friend, where were you in the asylum? ‘Because I don’t remember seeing you.”

An irritated huff came from the hybrid’s mouth. “I looked for her. For a long time. And when I wasn’t able to find her, I just assumed that she didn’t want to be around me anymore. And had I been in that asylum with her, I would have done a better job at being there for her unlike other people she loves.”

A groan interrupted the two. “Just because she’s my sister doesn’t mean I have to interfere in her affairs. I didn’t even know about her till a year ago.”

Harper let out a growl at the vampire. “I wasn’t talking about you, dipshit.”

Jeremy put his hand over his heart, feigning a hurt look. “Ouch, sister-in-law. That hurt.”

An amused look appeared on Abel’s face. “Had she not sent me away, I would have protected her in there. I love her, but I also understood that she needed space.”

The hybrid turned back to Abel and took a menacing step towards him. “And after the asylum? When she needed someone? Where were you?”

“Being poisoned and having someone heal me so I didn’t die,” the vampire deadpanned. His look turned towards TJ when he started to babble. “That’s right, buddy.”

Harper crossed her arms. “That’s no excuse.” She gave the child a small smile before looking back to the vampire in front of her. “I have been there for her every time she has needed me. When she needed to just cry or when she felt scared or hopeless. I was there when she needed someone beside her so she could sleep. I’m her person.”

“And I very much appreciate that, but I���m here now, so all that isn’t needed,” he told her.

They both felt a hand on their shoulders. Both Harper and Abel peered down to see Annie between them. The angel was giving them a stern look. “Let’s calm down, okay? We’re all here for Persephone and the children.” She turned to give Jeremy a look when he muttered, “Speak for yourself,” under his breath. “How about we take a breather, alright?”

A clearing of someone’s throat broke the tension between all of them. A nurse had joined them. “Ms. Snow? Ms. Strickland is requesting your presence in her room.”

Harper went over to the nurse. “Is she alright? The twins?”

The nurse nodded. “Yes, Ms. Strickland is fine. I think it’s just nerves, but she wanted a family member to be with her.” A warm smile took over Harper’s face as the nurse escorted her back through the double doors to the room Persephone was in.

~

~

The hybrid was sedated enough to not feel anything. Except the nerves in her stomach going haywire. She wanted someone to be in the room with her, and the only person she wanted at the moment was Harper. When Harper came into the room, tears pooled in the blonde’s eyes. “Harper!”

The brunette walked over to her and kissed her cheek. “Hi, Seph. You doing okay?”

The blonde nodded as she sniffled. “I’m a lot better now that you’re here.” The blonde let out a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.” She lifted her hand up from the cover and grasped Harper’s hand.

The doctor explained everything she was doing as she moved the blade across the hybrid’s stomach. The nurse helping Dr. Byers stretched the skin near the incision out. Dr. Byers cut through layers of fat and tissue until she saw the amniotic sac. As the nurse held open the incision site, the doctor cut carefully and gently across the top of the sac. Dr. Byers smiled when she saw the first baby. “Alright, Ms. Strickland. First baby.” The two hybrids shared a smile before the doctor proceeded. The nurse put the protractor in, and the doctor carefully got the first baby out.

Persephone frowned when she didn’t hear her child cry. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t she crying?” Her head turned to the side with a panicked look on her face as another doctor took the baby and placed her in a ventilator.

“It’s alright, Persephone. Your little girl wasn’t breathing, but Doctor Lewis is helping her right now. We’re onto baby number two,” the doctor replied. Harper glanced down at Persephone and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Dr. Byers worked quickly and carefully took the second baby out. The little girl gave a mighty cry which was followed by her sister as the ventilator helped her breath.

Persephone choked back sob as a smile took over her face. “My two girls. They’re okay.”

Harper leaned down and placed a kiss on the blonde’s forehead. “Yeah, they’re here.

The blonde couldn’t keep her eyes off her two new babies as the doctor delivered her placenta and stitched her back up. Once she was wheeled back to her room, all she wanted was to be with her two girls.

As Persephone and Harper talked about names, the others waiting in the lobby came strolling into her room. Abel quickly came over to the hybrid and kissed her cheek then Annie went over and gave her a hug.

“Alright, where are they?” Jeremy asked.

Seph rolled her eyes as a chuckle escaped her. “The girls are in the NICU. Their lungs needed a little extra help, but I’ll be able to take them home in a few days.”

The angel beamed with glee. “So, what did you decide to name them?”

The blonde glanced up to Harper with a smile. “Thalia Annabelle and Roxanne Jessa Strickland.”

[shintorikhazumi]

Snippet #5: "Shiny Chariot, Dreamy Diana!"

Snippet!! It’s been a while… And I am sooo guilty about this… Sorry @lizanime3

Snippet #5: “Shiny Chariot, Dreamy Diana!”

“A&B are watching TV and after a while, A closes their eyes. Thinking they are asleep, B starts watching their favorite animated movie from when they were a kid, not knowing A is wide awake and trying hard not to laugh at how adorable it is that B still likes kiddie movies.”

I thought of placing Akko as B, but with her character, she pretty much IS a fawning-over-kidstuff kind of person. Plus I wanna see cute Diana… Sooooo… Y'know what I’m trying to say here?

Also, would it be alright if it were a series instead of a movie? @lizanime3

Set after they are married ^~^ *-*-*-*-*-*-*

“-And that was the latest report related to witches this evening. Next up, a new brand of ramen is bor-” A loud yawn sounded throughout the room as the click of the remote signalled the changing of the channels.

“Soooo boriiinnggg!!!” Akko drawled, eyes barely open as she slumped against her wife, feeling heavier by the minute. “Diana, why do we have to watch this?” She asked, lips seeking the skin of her wife’s collar, peppering tickling kisses there as Diana let out a breathy sigh, the arm wrapped around Akko’s shoulders, tightening their hold.

“Because it’s work-related.” She pressed her lips to her wife’s forehead, feeling the other woman’s weight rest more fully against her. “Lately, Luna Nova and witches in general have been getting much more attention, so as the headmistress, I must see to it that I am well informed of these affairs.”

The blonde giggled, hugging Akko tighter after a rather tired yawn, eyes fluttering, struggling and failing to stay awake.

“But it’s borriiinnngg… It makes me sleepy.” Diana chuckled, hands roaming in search of Akko’s to entwine them.

“Says the most famous lecturer and professor of witches. And can you settle down even for a while? You are always so busy, dealing with world issues and such, being a hero and a mentor. Isn’t this the same?”

The brunette snorted, shifting a bit so that she was tucked in Diana’s collar, lips dancing along the slope of her neck. “I’ll have you know my lectures are exciting and fun. Not like…. These."She pointed at the drone of the news on the screen. "Boring little things.”

Diana couldn’t keep another laugh as she nuzzles her head against her wife’s, before leaning it on the hero’s shoulder.

They stayed that way a while, enjoying the silent ambience and warmth- til Diana felt the pace of Akko’s heart and breathing drop, steadier, fuller and slower, more relaxed.

Akko had fallen asleep.

Knowing, but wanting to actually confirm this, Diana sneaked a peek at the shorter woman’s face, seeing her eyelids shut, twitching from time to time, a flutter of her breath producing gentle snoring- contrary to popular belief, Akko was a very quiet sleeper, surprisingly enough.

With a loving smile, Diana planted a kiss atop her head, brushing a few of her now longer bangs from her face.

“Sleep well.” She murmured against Akko’s lips before a bubbly, childish excitement overtook her at seeing the digits on their clock on the wall.

‘12:30am’

She had never admitted to anyone, not even her own partner, that she had this large secret, one that should never see the light of day.

Airing at this time, was a show… A poor low-budget, low-quality series that would probably get cut soon, and Diana had always wondered why this horribly animated and poor portrayal of one iconic and “disdainful” witch character had yet to be done away with after so many years.

As the theme song played, the soft glow from the television casting it’s light on Akko, Diana lowered the volume, eyes bright in contrast to the dimly lit room.

In bold, flashy letters, the words- “Adventures of Shiny Chariot” were read across the screen.

It killed Diana that she was far too invested in this trashy, childish… Whatever this was. And it didn’t help that she had that few bits of pride that she did deserve to have, but still. This was far too compromising a secret to be found out.

Yet here she was, starry eyed as she watched her hero dance on stage, fight crime to some disarray the creators of the show referred to as “music”.

She sighed, both in bliss and in exasperation, though that twinkle in her eye never ceased to exist.

Every move Chariot did, well her cartoon counterpart did, every flick and toss of her wand, every step her feet tapped reminded Diana of the days she would beg her maids and mother for a custom set of Chariot wear so that she too might be able to waltz the stage.

Unbeknownst to her, in her silent, secretive admiration, another lass, eyes filled with mirth, could not take back the attention Diana stole, trying not to make even a squeak or giggle.

Ruby reds laughed mutely, watching every twitch of the corner of the blonde’s lips, every flutter of her long, thick lashes, and every restrained chuckle, giggle, laugh she let out. Akko almost made a sound when Diana snorted, horrified at the realization that she could not slap a hand over her mouth lest her motions alert her wife to her being awake. They were close enough to one another that one movement from Akko would jeopardize her viewing.

Silence wasn’t too golden at times.

But Akko would endure this silence if only to enjoy the child-like enjoyment if her other half. It was endearing and adorable to see that sparkle in bright diamonds, that wide, informal and unrestrained grin of ecstasy, Akko loved it.

She would stay silent a bit longe-

Diana’s sudden intense fit of giggling and laughter was too much for Akko, coupled with the tiny sneeze she made before laughing at her own silliness, it was irresistable and Akko just HAD to love her a million times more.

“Cute!” She exclaimed, squeezing her wife tightly while peppering kisses all over the now petrified woman.

“A-Akko?! S-since when?!”

The brunette laughed. “Since when what? Since when have I loved you? Since forever~” She sang, rocking them back and forth. “So adorable.. So even Diana Cavendish-” Akko said while the heiress blushed hard.

“-Kagari.” Her wife added

“Still has the heart of a child.”

“Th-there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?! Hmph!” She said, turning from the smirking professor. “And since when have you been awake?! Don’t tell me you haven’t been in dreamland at all!”

“I have.” Akko said, poking Diana’s cheek, trying to get her to face Akko.

“Then do share what it was about. What do you dream about?” Diana said, still pouting.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Akko spoke, wrapping her arms around Diana to hug her from behind.

“?”

“You are my dream. My dreamy Diana. The dreamy lady who runs the goshdarn best magic school ever and is the GREATEST witch in the world! Who tries to cook my favorite meals and gives me hugs and kisses… And work…” Diana giggled a bit, giving in to Akko as she leaned back into the embrace.

“At least you get work.”

“Who is so, so beautiful… Mature. Dependable, responsible but can also be so adorably childish, fawning over Shiny Chariot, My Dreamy Diana.”

Despite being seen in this embarrassing state, Diana decided it wasn’t so bad if it were Akko. A secret for one was now shared by two.

Planting a kiss on her wife’s lips, growing ever sleepy as the show came to a close, in the comfort of her wife’s warm embrace and soft kisses, Diana mumbled her I love you’s and good nights.

“You are also my dream.”

“I love you too.” Akko responded, tucking Diana under her arm and letting her rest on the brunette’s chest. “My dreamy Diana, sweet dreams…”

You are my dream… My dream come true...

[heatherfield]

Secret Heart, Ch. 3

Story summary: A suspicious death finds Mr. and Mrs. Geppetto the heirs of a great fortune, but how does this join their fates with those of Ruby Lucas, a lowly orphan, Belle French, devoted daughter and sister, Mr. Gold, gentleman-turned-lawyer, and the mysterious secretary Mr. Hopper? Secrets abound in this AU take on Dickens’ “Our Mutual Friend” in Victorian London.

Characters/Pairings: Red Cricket, Rumbelle, features Granny and Geppetto, possibly others…

Rating: General

Author’s note:  Shout-out to @zoe19blink​ for giving me the final push to finally finish this chapter! And look—I’ve finally written Rumbelle in the same scene! Interacting!

Links: FF.net or AO3.org

The biting wind cut through Remus Gold as he stepped out of the carriage. “Wait here,” he instructed the driver, turning to get his bearings in the dockside shantytown so far from civilization. He pulled the collar of his coat over his nose to guard against the stench that hung thick in the air—coming from both the river and the occupants around its shores, Remus assumed.

He started down the gravel road as he tried to remember his way to the house—if it could be called that—where he had been a few nights earlier. The daylight illuminated the poverty that had been covered by darkness before, and he muttered to himself, wondering how anyone could live in such conditions.

Better to get this over with.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was here. It was not required of him, to follow up with the family of the drunk who had found the Cricket body. He was working for the Cricket estate—the Geppettos, now—and cared little for the wellbeing of these people who clung to life in such a disgusting method.

Mr. Gold brushed any self-questioning thoughts aside as he climbed the rough boards to the thin “door” of the house—really just some planks barely held together on a rough hinge. He gripped his cane and tapped it on the wood.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He waited for what seemed like ages before trying again. Mid-tap, the door swung open to reveal a slim brunette in a simple dress with an apron that was wet at the knees and held together with too many patches. Her brow glistened with sweat and a few strands of hair fell in her face, but Mr. Gold’s heart stopped in his throat to see her face, before hidden by the shadows of the shack, so clearly in the overcast light from outdoors.

“M-Mr. Gold,” she stuttered and gave a quick curtsey. Remus thought he saw a look of alarm flit across her features.

Mr. Gold collected himself and nodded to the girl. “Miss French.” He realized he didn’t know her name apart from that of her father. “I—I was wondering if I might speak with you.” Her features widened in more concern and he cringed at how poorly he’d already begun. “Nothing’s wrong,” he blurted out, as if to reassure her as quickly as possible.

This was new territory for him.

“Please, come in,” she gestured inside, and as Remus gingerly stepped into the cramped quarters, he looked for a place to sit while the girl closed the door. Instantly the room became much darker, reminding him of the gloom that filled the room when he was there before.

Belle removed a pile of rags from a chair and gestured to the now-empty seat. Gold sat down, though he had to fight the urge to give it a wipe beforehand. The nervous expression on her face, however, made him wish to appear as natural as possible to alleviate any concerns of hospitality on her part. It was sweet, really, that she should be concerned about such domesticities in a hovel like this.

“Thank you,” Mr. Gold nodded as he took a biscuit she offered. He expected a dry and tough mouthful, but the small treat was surprisingly tasty. “Mmmm,” he nodded, mouth full, with more fervour.

Belle smiled as she put the plate back on the rough table, taking nothing for herself, and sat down on the cot in the corner beside him. Mr. Gold noticed the wet planks on the floor with a small bucket beside them and realized he must have interrupted her work. All things considered, the small space seemed almost homey, in a rough sort of way.

Moe French did not deserve such a daughter.

Surprised at himself for the unbidden thought, Mr. Gold shifted on the chair and returned his focus to Belle. He realized he had yet to explain himself to this creature who must be worried sick about her father.

“You must be wondering as to the reason for my visit,” he started as way of an explanation. He noticed Belle smoothing out her skirt and tucking her hair behind her ears, and a pang of guilt hit him at the abruptness of his visit. How odd—he never cared in the least before. Then again, he had never made such an unnecessary visit before, motivated by nothing but courtesy.

Belle nodded but said nothing, her eyes fixed on his as if to urge him to continue.

“After much questioning, it was decided that there was not enough evidence to support the suspicion that your father had anything to do with the murder of Mr. Jiminy Cricket,” he started, and he kept his eyes fixed on Belle’s. “I just… I wished to alleviate any concern as soon as I could, in hopes to save you unnecessary worry.”

Belle shifted in her seat, and Remus realized she did not look relieved. Surely this was good news?

“W-when do you expect my father will be released?” she asked carefully.

“By the end of the day, I expect,” Remus answered, though he couldn’t begin to guess how long the man would linger at a pub or two before coming home to his family. 

Remus furrowed his brow at the lack of pleasure it seemed to give her before he caught himself. Was that why he had come? Because he wanted to see this girl light up at the good news—to have her profusely thank him for bringing such tidings?

Before he could make any awkward excuses to take his leave, the door swung open with the entrance of the scraggly youth who’d been present the night the body had been found.

“Chip!” Belle cried, jumping up and racing to her brother as Remus slowly stood with the help of his cane.

She tugged at the boy’s collar and wiped off his coat. “Chip, this is Mr. Gold, from the other night,” she explained, gesturing to him. 

The dirty-blonde boy nodded with a mumbled “g’day, sir,” and Remus nodded a silent greeting in reply, feeling very out of place.

“He’s just told me that Father is coming home today,” she continued, her eyes flitting between himself and her brother. Remus thought she looked a nervous creature, her smile unable to hide whatever troubled her.

Whatever her secrets were, they were of no concern to him. “I’ll bid you good-day,” he said, making his way to the door. “Good-bye, Miss French—Master French.” 

He ignored the way the lady’s small smile—genuine, this time—made his pulse quicken as he hurried down the steps and up the gravel path back to his carriage. 

Ah, well. At least he was done with that part of the sordid affair, he thought to himself, wishing to put some distance between himself and the slum more quickly than his legs could carry him, eager to leave it behind.

Belle had barely closed the door before she turned to Chip, her heart racing. 

“Oh, Chip, I think it’s time!” she exclaimed, rushing to the side of the cot and dropping to her knees. She tugged on a loose floorboard to reveal an opening and pulled out a round, skinny tin.

Sitting on the bed, she opened the lid and dropped the coins on to the blanket. Carefully, she counted them out before snatching them up, her pulse racing. She crossed the room and pressed them into her brother’s hand, wrapping his fingers around the coins like they were precious jewels. 

“I’d hoped we’d have more time,” she tried to explain as she blinked back the tears that pricked her eyes and stung her nose. “But you’ve got to get away from here, to make a better life for yourself.” She turned her back to him and quickly wrapped some bread and cheese in one of the clean rags from the pile. 

“Belle, what are you talking about? I can’t leave you—and Father—”

“You must!” she exclaimed forcefully, turning around to see the shock in her brother’s face. Her features softened and she took his hands. “Please, Chip, you must—for my sake, if not for your own. When Father gets back, he’ll still be surrounded by scandal, no matter what the police say. People talk and turn the cold shoulder. You’ll not stand a chance of a decent life unless you get away from it all, and you can’t do that when Father is here.” 

With a deep breath, she turned back around and fastened the little parcel together.

“Here, take this,” she instructed, pressing the bundle into his hands. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before daring to meet her brother’s gaze. 

A lump rose in her throat and she strove to continue. “Go to your headmaster. There’s enough there for lodgings until you can earn your keep. Stay with your learning, and you’ll soon be well-respected and proper,” she assured him.

Chip nodded along with her instructions. “If you’re sure.”

Belle simply nodded, her chest tight and her mouth dry. She licked her lips. “Quickly, now,” she managed to say.

He paused at the doorway, and she put her hands on his shoulder. “I love you,” she said softly before wrapping her arms tightly around him. She squeezed with all her strength, knowing that things would be vastly different between them the next time they should meet—if at all. 

“Good-bye, Belle,” Chip said as they pulled apart.

Belle couldn’t resist brushing her hand across his forehead and tucking a away a stray curl. He face was still round and boyish, and she couldn’t imagine he was really old enough to deal with the world.

“And r-remember to always think well of Father, no matter what anyone says,” Belle called after him as he rushed down the steps. He lifted his hand in a wave, barely turning back, before he disappeared over the hill and up the street.

As she closed the door, Belle collapsed on the other side, finally letting the tears stream down her face.

“What do you think, Ruby dear? The calico or the muslin?”

“Hmm?” Ruby asked, blinking to focus on what Mrs. Geppetto was saying beside her.

The older woman chuckled. “I was just saying, do you think the calico fabric is nicer, or the muslin?” 

“They’re both nice,” Ruby assured her, running her finger over the bolts of fabric the shopkeer displayed for them.

“Quite right,” Mrs. Gepetto agreed. “We’ll take them both,” she said to the man behind the counter.

Ruby tried not to gawk at the extravagance and nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And why not spend one’s fortune on the clothes befitting one’s new station, if one had the money to spare?

Ruby noticed a couple of middle-aged women in the store looking at ribbons a few paces away. She could hear their mutterings over the “new money” and “Mrs. So-and-so” and “who does she think she is?” It grated on Ruby and made her want to shrink down to nothing as Mrs. Geppetto’s rough accent filled the store, asking the shopkeeper to show them all the new bonnets they had in the window.

“Oh, Ruby, won’t that look splendid on you!” Mrs. Geppetto all but squealed like a schoolgirl as the shopkeeper brought them a crimson hat trimmed with scarlet ribbons and cream lace, bedecked with rosettes of a deeper shade of red and topped with three large red feathers. 

“It’s… lovely,” Ruby agreed, wincing at the gaudiness of it all. Surely a couple rosettes or feathers would be nice, but it looked like the milliner was trying too hard to impress. 

Ruby could hear the women beside them snickering, and the sound grated on her nerves. Squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw, Ruby assured Mrs. Geppetto that she would be thrilled with such a purchase, and wouldn’t it look lovely with that particular shade of sky blue ribbon that these ladies were eyeing? She just had to have the whole spool. 

With a smirk, Ruby helped Mrs. Geppetto carry out their purchases, their arms full of boxes of hats and promises of dresses to come and more blue ribbon than Ruby was sure she could use in a lifetime, but the shocked faces of those snobbish good-for-nothings made it worth it. “Good afternoon, ladies,” Ruby said in a sing-song voice, earning her a disgruntled “humph!” from the older woman as they passed.

There was something thrilling to be surrounded by such lovely boxes which declared the finery hidden within as the carriage took them home. It still felt like a dream, to pull up to such a fine house and to be helped out of the carriage like a proper lady!

Ruby carried in a few boxes—though the servants said they could help, she was more than capable of carrying her own things!—and made her way inside. “Miss Lucas!” a familiar voice called out, and Ruby almost dropped her goodies as she turned around. 

Mr. Hopper rushed forward and took a box from her pile. “Please, let me help you,” he offered.

“I’m—fine, thank you,” Ruby said with a huff, trying to peer around her load without much success.

“Um, yes—I c-can see that.” 

Ruby frowned. “Were you just on your way out, Mr. Hopper? Please, don’t stop on my account.” She shifted the parcels and boxes in her arms and decided that peering over them was the best course of action.

She caught Mr. Hopper’s smile that crinkled his eyes behind his spectacles.

“Actually, I was just here to see Mr. Geppetto and he invited me to stay for tea.”

Ruby bit back a retort. “Then I suppose I shall see you shortly,” she said with as much civility—if not warmth—as she could muster. “Now if you’ll be so kind as to return that box to the top, I shall carry these to my rooms.” 

“O-of course,” he stuttered, carefully piling the small box on top. “You made out well today, by the looks of things.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Hopper.” She could feel his judgment at her extravagance as his gaze wandered over her armload. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He stepped back to let her pass on her way to her apartment, and Ruby walked with her head held high—until she had to watch her feet as she made her way up the stairs. 

The parcels were light, but the load was bulky and heavy, and she let out a sigh of relief to unload the boxes in her room. 

She shrugged out of her jacket, unpinned her hat, and brushed out her skirt with her hands. With a quick glance in the mirror, she smoothed out her hair and pinched her cheeks. 

Gaudy hat or not, she could outshine any of those horrid women’s daughters, she thought with satisfaction as she looked herself over in the large looking glass and glanced at the lovely new purchases she’d acquired—a luxury unfathomable in her past life.

So why should a lowly secretary’s opinion aggravate her so?

[ellanainthetardis]

prompt: effie knows that haymitch has a thing for brunettes so she considers dying her hair, but haymitch stops her and tells her that he does actually like brunettes but they don't compare to her and that he really loves her blond hair

Here you go [X]

Friendly Opinion

Effie sipped her champagne slowly, aware thatshe needed to stop now before she became downright tipsy. Haymitch had beensteadily knocking down glass after glass and, if he was yet to show any sign ofdrunkenness, she wasn’t ready to risk both of them being intoxicated at once.

She crossed her legs deliberately slowly – forthe benefit of the sponsor who had been eyeing her for half an hour – wishingthose stools were less tricky to maneuver. She could have moved over to a tablethough, she was sure finding someone she knew at that party wouldn’t have beenhard… The club was buzzing with too loud music, it was the latest place to beand she usually enjoyed it well enough, but that night it was packed withpotential sponsors and Games’ teams on the hunt for money.

Sitting at the bar alone, looking available anda little bored, had seemed like a safe bet. She had caught the attention of afew men and women but, truth be told, people were more interested in chattingher up than offering their money.

Her eyes toured the building, passing over thecrowded dance floor with its pink and green blinking neon lights to check thefirst floor’s walkways. Haymitch was still where he had been standing for thelast hour, as far from the speakers as he could physically get. Chaff haddeserted him though. He was staring at something – or rather, as she quicklydiscovered, someone – and she followedhis gaze to where Alina Grave was making a quick but efficient job ofrecruiting sponsoring offers.

Eight’s victor had come back to mentoring acouple of years earlier and Effie still wished that this particular Districtwould rotate mentors more often.

She looked back at Haymitch to find him stillstaring and she pouted, taking another sip of her champagne. She studied Alinafrom afar. She could see the appeal, in truth. She was around Haymitch’s age,in her mid-thirties or so, and she looked verygood. She was attractive, very attractive,and the tight dresses Eight’s stylists always had her wearing were definitelyworking for her. Her stomach wasn’t as flat as one could have wished, true, butthat was what you got for giving birth, Effie figured. All in all, she could have been tempted so shecompletely understood Haymitch’s apparent fascination for the woman. Alinacertainly had the spirits he liked in women.

Plus, they hadhad some sort of affair she didn’t quiteknow the specifics of.

She wasbeautiful.

However, Effie was too.

The only thing Alina had going that Effiedidn’t – aside for the very small matter of the two them coming from the sameworld when she belonged to a placeHaymitch hated – was the hair color. She had noticed before. And she had piecedit together from the various comments he and his ridiculous best friend hadmade over the years.

He liked dark-haired girls.

And Effie was very much a blonde.

He was adamant he hated the wigs and loved herhair but it left her puzzled. How could he love her hair if she was blond andhe was into brunettes? She wasn’t fond of her natural hair to begin with. Hermother would have had it dyed permanently in her teenage years if it had beenleft to her and, for once, that was probably something Effie could have agreedon. Her hair was awful. Unpracticalwild curls of an insipid color.

She liked wigs because it allowed her to switchhairstyles and hair colors every few days without any damages but she did liked dying her head a vibrant pinkor purple sometimes. Never when Haymitch was in the city though. He would havemade fun of her and it would have probably been one of those times when he wascrueler than she wanted to deal with.

He didn’t like pink or purple.

He liked dark hair.

He was always eager to have his way with her whenshe had dark colored wigs on and he never asked her to remove those. He wasparticularly fond of the black one trimmed with gemstones cut into a short bobthat made her look impish.

He likeddark hair.

And shedidn’t have dark hair.

And he didn’t like her keeping her wigs whenthey were having sex.

She couldn’t help but draw a parallel as to whyhe was staring at another woman with dark hair he had slept with in the past.

She pondered the question as she fished acigarette out of her clutch and wedged it between her green painted lips – adark shade that went very well with the crimson wig tied into a puffy side bun,if she did say so herself. She didn’t have time to look for her lighter. Thesponsor who had been eyeing her lit it for her before she even reached for herpurse again.

He remarked it was a shame for a lovelycreature like her to be sitting alone.

She countered that the bar was where the mostinteresting people were, case in point.

And just like that the flirting was on. Shesmiled and laughed and said every right thing she needed to say, everything hewanted to hear.

He was old and wealthy and he had actuallypledged himself to Twelve once over three years earlier – because, shesuspected, he had a soft spot for her – but they never had any opportunities touse his money because their tributes had died too soon. She didn’t actuallysecure a sponsor offer but he promised to think about it if she promised tothink about having dinner with him. It was a proposition she wouldn’t run pastHaymitch, knowing full well what he would have had to say about it. As for taking it now… She would think aboutthat later.

Her cigarette had long been crushed in theashtray the bartender had pushed in front of her with a worried look for hisgleaming counter and she searched for another one as soon as the sponsor wasgone.

“You keep saying you’re quitting.”

Her lips stretched into a smile and she gaveHaymitch a small shrug as he commandeered the stool the sponsor had justvacated.

“I am a stress smoker.” she claimed.

“Must be stressed all the time, then.” hesnorted, lifting his voice a little to be heard over the music. He gestured thebartender over, ordering a whiskey and a margarita. She was a little impressedhe knew what sort of drinks she wanted without her having to specify. “OldVinian’s eyes were glued to your boobs, sweetheart. Careful. You don’t want to givehim a stroke or something.”

“He might sponsor us.” she informed him.

“Yeah, and pigs might grow wings and start to flytomorrow.” he mocked, grabbing his glass and pushing hers closer to her.

“At least,I made some contacts.” she sighed, wishing the music wasn’t so loud. It wasperfectly alright for a fun evening out but it wasn’t at all practical for theplanning they needed to do to chase after sponsors. “Who did you secure?”

It was a gibe more than anything and he didn’teven pretend not to get the joke. He hadn’t gone out of his way to talk tosponsors, that went without saying.

“Deana still wants a piece of my ass.” hecommented, nodding to a woman who was far too old to be wriggling on the dancefloor the way she was doing. “That counts or what?”

“Unnecessarily crude.” she chided him, wincinga little. “I do not need that visual, Haymitch.”

“Jealous, are you?” he taunted.

She was unfortunately unable to answer thatbecause of her untimely sipping of her margarita. They drank for a few minutes,foregoing conversation. He kept checking his watch every thirty seconds.

She bore it as long as she could. “You are beingrude. One does not make a lady feel like they are bored or not worth theirtime. If you have plans with someone else, simply apologize and be on yourway.”

He lifted his eyebrows, irritation flashing onhis face. “Just wondering how long it’s gonna take you to finish that drink sowe can leave. That’s my plan.”

“Oh.” she said, her cheeks burning withembarrassment. “We cannot leave yet. Everyone else is still trying to findsponsors…”

“We’re never getting sponsors and our kids arenever making it out even if we do.” he spat, somber.

“You do not knowthat.” she retorted, annoyed by his constant pessimism.

“Nineteen years of experience say I do.” hedeadpanned, downing the rest of his drink. “Look, stay or go, I don’t care.Keep the car. I’ll walk back.”

He was gone before she could even blink. Shewas slower in getting up – because her dress was short and unpractical althoughvery pretty, and her clutch wouldn’tclose properly – and thus she only caught up with him at the end of the street.

She didn’t want to call out to him like afishmonger so she had no choice but to walk fast – almost at a run – which wasnever easy on towering heels. She had all the troubles in the world looking dignified.

“I hope you know I never run after men.” shehuffed once she was standing next to him.

She suspected he had slowed down his pace soshe could actually catch up.

“And I hadto be the exception.” he grumbled. “You couldn’t annoy someone else.”

He didn’t protest when she looped her arm underhis, which told her he wasn’t really mad, just a bit drunk and probablyfrustrated. Their tributes’ odds didn’t look good if the first couple of daysof training were anything to go by.

“You will miss me when I get promoted and youknow it.” she teased with a bright smile.

That promotion she had kept talking about sincethe very first year, the one that would neverhappen. As they were both aware.  

She was too good at her job, too good athandling him. He had been goingthrough an escort a year before she had walked in, either harassing them intoquitting or sleeping with them and then acting like a jerk. He had beenimpossible, a real pain for the Head Gamemaker, and Twelve’s paperwork hadnever been done on time. Then, she had been hired and everything had changed.He was still impossible but she had her tricks to make him behave a little moreproperly. He was still a pain but he tended to annoy her and not the Gamemakersbecause he found it funnier. As for Twelve’s paperwork, it had long become her responsibility. She did most of hisjob in addition to hers, this way they were up to spar and everyone was happy.She was too good. They would never promote her and  risk going back to the wreck Twelve had beenbefore.

When Haymitch was furious with her – or theworld – he liked tossing that in her face. But sometimes, he humored her.

“Picked your next District already?” hechuckled. “’Cause I heard Three’s retiring soon…”

“I was thinking about Eight actually.” shecountered. “Their team seemed to be doing really well tonight.”

She guided them deeper in the city, throughsmaller pedestrian streets that would hopefully cut the walking time in half.What a ridiculous idea to walk whenthey had car with a driver at their disposal. Her shoes would kill her longbefore they reached the Center. They were masterpieces. They weren’t meant tobe walked in.

“Maybe.” he shrugged. “Didn’t pay attention.”

She pouted at the obvious lie. “Alina lookslovely.”

“Subtle.” he snorted, as they were reachingMain Square. He steered them toward streets that paralleled the square – sothey wouldn’t get caught in the middle of a crowd who would request autographsand pictures, she presumed.

“For someone who was not paying attention youlooked at her a great deal.” she huffed. “That is all I am saying.”

And that was plentyalready.

“So what? You spied on me the whole night?” hescowled, hurrying his pace and forcing her to lengthen her steps to keep up.The City Circle was in sight and she would be relieved once they would reachthe Games’ compound, her feet hurt.

“I happened to notice you were staring at her alot.” she deflected. “I checked that you were not getting drunk, I was not spying.”

“Kind of falls into my definition of spying.” he muttered.

“Well, then. I will happily buy you a newdictionary.” she retorted. “You do not need to answer me since it is clearly asensitive topic. I shall never ask about Alina Grave again.”

“Good.” he snapped. “’Cause that’s none of yourfucking business, Trinket.”

“No need to be rude.” she hissed.

She had trouble keeping up with his strides soshe unlocked their arms and went at her own pace. He walked on for a minute orso and then stopped, hands buried in his pockets, waiting for her. He offeredhis arm again once she reached him, not once looking at her. She took itwithout a word, happy to notice he slowed his steps to accommodate her.

“The sponsor she was talking to was handsy.” hemuttered once they reached the middle of the City Circle and the Training Centerwas looming ahead. “She could have broken that guy’s wrist, sure, but she’s gota family… I’ve got no one they can punish for punching a Capitol. She’s myfriend. I was looking out for her, that’s all. Not that it’s any of your business.”

She relaxed a little but kept her featuresschooled into detachment. “I said Iwould never ask again.”

“Yeah, well… You didn’t ask, I offered.” hescoffed.

“She is very attractive, though.” she hummed.

He rolled his eyes. “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” she asked, sounding every bit aspuzzled as she wasn’t.

“Comparing.” he spat. “That’s bullshit, Effie. I ain’t going to feedyour ego.”

She eyed him from under her fake eyelashes,trying to read him. “My ego does notrequire feeding.”

“Finally,we can agree on something.” he taunted. “Warn Caesar. He can probably squeezeus into the morning special.”

It was lucky for him they reached the Centerjust at that moment. There was a group of people at the doors, like always, and,for a moment, she lost herself in the necessary act of waving, smiling, andsigning.

Haymitch was in the lobby well before shemanaged to make her escape. She barely had time to slid between the closingdoors of the elevator or he would have gone up without her.

“You could have waited.” she rebuked.

“Thought your ego would need an empty elevator,sweetheart…” he mocked. “It’s so big.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, lips pursed, andtilted her head to the side, giving a pass to the crude joke he was obviouslyexpecting. She patted her wig instead, keeping her gaze riveted to the flashingnumbers that indicated the floors.

At eight, she cleared her throat.

“May I ask your opinion on something?” sheinquired.

“Sure.” he shrugged.

“Without  you making fun of me?” she insisted.

His smirk should have been outlawed. It was fartoo sexy for something so smug and disrespectful.

“Now, I’m curious.” he confessed. “Shoot,Princess.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was simply consideringa new hairstyle earlier but I cannot forthe life of me decide if it is a good idea or not.”

“Hairstyle?” He made a face. “You mean yourreal hair?”

“Yes.” she nodded. “I was thinking…”

“No pink.” he almost begged. “And don’t cut it.Not that I care. Or have an opinion.” He rubbed the back of his neck,embarrassed and uncomfortable with the conversation. “’Cause I don’t.”

It was lucky she was such a good actressbecause keeping herself from grinning was difficult.

“I was thinking about becoming a brunette.” shedeclared.

If possible, he winced even more. “What for?”

“Why not?” she replied cheerfully. “You do like dark-haired women, don’t you?Wouldn’t you like it better if…”

“We don’t do that kind of stuff.” he cut heroff, just as the elevator chimed to signal they had reached the penthouse. “Iain’t shaving for you. You don’t need to dye your hair for me.”

“It would not be for you.” she answered flatly. “I am asking for your opinion as afriend. I have had the same boring hairstyle since forever and…”

“What’s wrong with it?” he grumbled. “I like yourhair.”

“But it is blond and you like brunettes.” shebreathed out with frustration. “Shouldn’t you…”

“It looks reddish with the right light.” hemumbled. “And it’s real. I don’t like fake anything.”He rolled his eyes. “I like yourhair.” 

He looked upset at the thought that she woulddestroy it with black dye so she helplessly lifted her hands and then droppedthem. “Alright then. I simply wanted your opinion. As a friend.”

“Well, that’s my opinion.” he scowled.

“Good.” she nodded, pushing the button thatwould open the doors that had long closed, given their hesitancy to step out,and then gesturing in the vague direction of her room. “I will go to bed.”

“Yeah. Good.” he acknowledged, not looking ather. “I’m gonna hit the liquor cart.”

She was neither surprised nor alright with thatbut she didn’t try to stop him.

She was too busy running to her room, fightingoff as smile.  

[the-connection]

A new documentary reworks the memoir of Bowers, who boasts he paired Cary Grant with Rock Hudson and Katharine Hepburn with 150 brunettes and slept with so many actors he didnt have time to see their films

Scotty Bowers was a 23-year-old petrol station attendant on Hollywood Boulevard when the actor Walter Pidgeon pulled up to the pump and asked the dimpled blond to jump in his Lincoln. It would be the ride of his life. Pidgeon was gay, claims Bowers in his autobiography Full Service: My Adventures in Hollywood and the Secret Sex Lives of the Stars, and that afternoon they became lovers. Bowers himself transcended labels. Years later, he startled sexologist Dr Alfred Kinsey by checking off every sex act on his list (and took him to orgies to prove it). Guys, girls, spouses, kings, consorts and a three-way with Ava Gardner and Lana Turner. Bowers had done it all.

[Kinsey] came looking for me, says Bowers, now 95, on a hot afternoon in a Hollywood courtyard apartment. Things he thought impossible, I came up with. With his devilish blue eyes and thick white hair, it is easy to picture why he was popular. He burns with energy, as though he spent his retirement stoking gossip he vowed he wouldnt spill while his lovers were alive. J Edgar Hoover? A drag. Vivien Leigh? A hot, hot lady. Wallis Simpson? A real ballsy chick.

Bowers (second from left, back row) with friends. Photograph: Courtesy of Greenwich Entertainment

Bowers used to turn tricks in this same building. Today, the vintage-style pad belongs to the director Matt Tyrnauer, a former Vanity Fair journalist who recently reworked Bowers memoir into the eyebrow-raising documentary Scotty and the Secret History of Hollywood. Tyrnauer, sitting next to Bowers and gently nudging his digressions on track, confirms that he called the Kinsey Institute to check Bowers tale. They knew exactly who he was.

Everyone knew Bowers. George Cukor, Gore Vidal, Merv Griffin; Tyrone Power referred to him in letters, interviews and biographies, calling him Scotty, Sonny, or just the gas station on Hollywood Boulevard. Tennessee Williams hand-wrote a 40-page story about him, which Bowers found embarrassingly over the top.

I said: Tennessee, forget that bullshit, says Bowers. I should have kept it. Instead, for decades, people pushed him to write down his own memories. I kept putting it off and putting it off, and all of a sudden, almost everyone they wanted me to write about was dead.

Lana Turner and Ava Gardner, with whom Bowers claims to have had a threesome. Photograph: Keystone/Getty Images

In 1946, the year he met Pidgeon, Bowers was competing with millions of other returning second world war veterans for work. Canoodling with a celebrity for $20 made more sense than digging a ditch for $10. After Pidgeon spread the word about his new friend, more luxury cars began to cruise by. Soon, Bowers side-hustle had expanded to a parked trailer with two king beds, glory holes in the bathroom and a battalion of good-looking men and women to fix up with some of the biggest names in Hollywood. Bowers boasts that he paired Cary Grant with Rock Hudson back when the Pillow Talk star was still named Roy, and introduced Katharine Hepburn to 150 lovely brunettes. As for Hepburns rumored paramour Spencer Tracy, Bowers says he slept with him, too.

Hepburn and Tracys complex relationship is a fascinating example of Hollywoods hypocritical and literal moral code. Publicists decided it was better to pretend the friends were having an affair than explain the real reason why Tracy wasnt living with his wife Louise, to whom he stayed married until his death. A heterosexual affair was forgivable even romantic and it wouldnt get either actor fired. After Fatty Arbuckle was put on trial for the rape and murder of Virginia Rappe, the studios began to add a clause in their contracts forbidding actors from committing any offence that risked public hatred, contempt or ridicule. While the courts found Arbuckle innocent twice the Hollywood moguls believed just a whiff of indecency could destroy the entire industry. The swinging days of the early silent era ended overnight. Performers became studio property: they were told how to dress, how to behave, and who to date, or at least pretend to.

Bowers in uniform in the 1940s. Photograph: Greenwich Entertainment

It was a lucrative lie. Roy Harold Scherer got his teeth capped and became Rock Hudson. When the tabloids began to nag Hudson to get married, the executives betrothed him to his lesbian secretary Phyllis. Archibald Leach was rechristened Cary Grant and wed to the great beauty Barbara Hutton, although the love of his life was screen cowboy Randolph Scott, with whom he lived for 12 years as a roommate. Bowers says in his book: The three of us got into a lot of sexual mischief together.

Living double lives took a toll. Eventually, Hudson began drinking a bottle of scotch a day and recklessly sleeping with strangers. Grant tried psychedelic therapy and spoke in quips that hinted at his unfulfillment. I played at being someone I wanted to be until I became that person, or he became me, he told his biographer. Even his most famous quote Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant sounds like a whispered confession, or maybe a misdirection. What if he just wanted to be as free as Archibald Leach?

Bowers bedded so many movie stars that he didnt have time to see their movies. A movie takes a couple hours. I was busy every minute. When his daughter, Donna, died, he went back to work that day. He shared a home with her mother, his longtime partner Betty, but slept there only a few times a year. In the documentary, he teeters towards admitting regret for spending most nights in someone elses bed. But he candidly admits his only true passion was money. He grew up hungry during the Depression era, and, as a young teenager, he turned tricks for two dozen Chicago priests who paid him in quarters. That would be abuse in everyones eyes but his. In the documentary, Tyrnauer repeatedly presses Bowers about his childhood, and does so again today.

Youre very intent on the fact that you dont perceive yourself as a victim, says Tyrnauer.

I did what I wanted to do, maintains Bowers.

That is not the conventional perspective at all, but it is his perspective and I dont judge him for that, says Tyrnauer. I think people get to define who they are and tell their story and express their beliefs.

Executives married off Rock Hudson to his lesbian secretary, Phyllis Gates. Photograph: Kobal/Rex/Shutterstock

I do think that different people are different, thats very true, replies Bowers. Im speaking for myself only.

As an adult at the petrol station, Bowers never took a cut of other peoples cash. To him, that meant he wasnt a pimp; he was a purveyor of joy. The most important thing was company, says Bowers. The LGBTQ community didnt have many safe places to connect at that time. Homosexuality was illegal in California until the 1970s. When the Los Angeles Police Department vice squad the sexual Gestapo, says Tyrnauer barged into a gay bar, patrons risked being arrested, shaken down for cash, shipped to a mental institution, and possibly lobotomised. The LAPD targeted the Hollywood glitterati because they had careers to protect and money to spare.

When the petrol station became too famous, Bowers became a for-rent party bartender, which gave celebrities an even better excuse to invite him into their homes. Even that was risky. One cop memorised Bowers car registration plate and would pull him over, scare him a bit, and then undo Bowers pants while complaining about his miserable marriage. I hope he found happiness, writes Bowers, charitably.

The vice squad is responsible for Bowers impressive memory. Midway through one aside, he recites the address of a silent movie star who has been dead for 45 years. Terrified of a raid, he rarely wrote down his friends information. It was all in my head, says Bowers. I never kept anything. If I wrote down a number, I had it in my hand until I tore it up. Even then, he would swap the first and last digits to ensure the persons identity couldnt be cracked, a trick inspired by the Navajo code talkers.

Now, Bowers has no secrets. Critics have slammed the book and the documentary for outing celebrities without consent. In the film, Tyrnauer includes a film fan arguing that legendary stars deserve more respect. Bowers counters: Whats wrong with being gay? Others have thanked him for sticking up for the real person underneath the studio gloss for revealing their truth the way they might have if they were alive today. It is impossible to know how Hudson and Grant would have chosen to live in a country that legalised gay marriage. Perhaps their lives would have been happier. Although, Bowers notes, even in 2018: Everythings not going to be out in the open. More actors are out, but now must prove they can play both gay and straight characters. Neil Patrick Harris has succeeded; Matt Bomer is trying. Some have decided that it is still easier to hide.

Asked if he is biting his tongue about anyone alive, Bowers blurts out the name of a beloved actor and her 169% gay husband. He is dead; she isnt. So, Bowers will wait. Let me tell you something: when youre dead youre dead, he insists. Later, when the conversation turns to Kevin Spacey Bowers claims to know one of his exes Tyrnauer steadily repeats that Bowers information about the alleged perpetrator is merely secondhand. The director is clearly, and correctly, aware of the complexities of talking sensitively about sex in the era of #MeToo. But after eight decades of secrecy Bowers sighs: Poor Kevin Spacey, he was right in the middle of a picture and they dumped him and everything. Thanks to #MeToo, morality clauses are making a comeback. This time, one hopes they will only be wielded for good.

Cary Grant (right) with his room mate Randolph Scott. Photograph: Snap/Rex Features

Hollywood journalist Liz Smith once quipped: All this crap about coming out! Honey, I dont think I have ever really been in! Before she died last November, she affirmed that Hepburn was a lesbian.

I was pleased that she went on the record about Hepburn because I dont think shed ever done it before, says Tyrnauer. It really provides a great assist to Scottys narrative about Hepburn and Tracy, because people are in willful suspension of belief about this supposed golden couple.

Even more startling are Bowers lusty tales about Wallis Simpson and Edward VIII. Wally and Eddie, corrects Bowers, waving away their formal names. It was very easy to see how she talked him out of being king of England because she had complete control over him, says Bowers. She told him if you want to fool around and do this and that, you cant do it if youre king.

Scotty Bowers at home in LA. Photograph: Courtesy of Greenwich Entertainment

A lot of people dont believe that particular story, says Tyrnauer. But he places them at the Beverly Hills Hotel in the 50s. We found a picture of them in the Beverly Hills Hotel in that period its in the movie. Four former clients knew Edward, and the couples close friend, photographer Cecil Beaton, titled an entire chapter of his diary: Scotty.

There were many, many factors that connected them, says Tyrnauer. I cross-referenced everything I could. When Bowers described a mansions winding pathway to the pool house, or a gate in a backyard, Tyrnauer would pull up an aerial view of Google Maps and there it was, as though the nonagenarian had visited yesterday.

In Los Angeles, notes the director: You can wipe the dust off something that has been obscured and find the truth. Scottys a living example of that. Here he was in Laurel Canyon for decades minding his business. And yet hes Scotty Bowers, the infamous male madame to the stars, and either you knew it or you didnt.

He has tried to ensure Scotty and the Secret History of Hollywood tells the truth instead of peddling innuendo like tabloids, TMZ, or even acclaimed smut such as Kenneth Angers Hollywood Babylon.

Am I in that, too? asks Bowers.

Tyrnauer chuckles: Maybe between the lines.

There always will be secret life happening, beams Bowers. People should do what pleases them and the other person some people just please more than a few.

Scotty and the Secret History of Hollywood is out now in the US and awaiting a UK release date

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us