#my town doesn’t have a pride parade so I did this instead

[bi-dykes]

Bisexual McDonalds Picnic

💗💜💙🍔🍟

Never thought those three words would go together

Also the very rad @random-friendly-1ntrovert’s face reveal :)

[writing-rat]

Pride Riot

Summary: Robin and Nancy go to a broadcasted pride

There was a pride in Indiana. At first, Nancy was nervous about it as she knew her father would watch the news on it but Robin invited her. She couldn’t say no to Robin, since Robin had her puppy dog eyes on. She just couldn’t resist them at this point of their relationship.

This led to the date of their pride, and she was in her room pacing, unaware Robin walked in. “You ok sweetheart?” Robin asked her curiously, tilting her head. “Oh yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Nancy said then looked down, shaking her head. “No… no I’m not. I’m nervous, my dads gonna know,” she admitted. Robin looked at her with gentle eyes. “We don’t have to go,” she said gently but Nancy shook her head. “You want to go… it’s just… it’s just me with my inner homophobia. My dad also watches the news where it will be showcased and if he sees me…” Nancy explained, trying to not offend Robin. Robin sympathetically smiled and nodded. “Why don’t we own it to your dad? Where’d that badass Wheeler inside you?” Robin smirked out, trying to encourage Nancy.

Nancy thought about it, then the usual Nancy determination came out from her eyes. She smirked then nodded as she was grabbing her usual Emerson shirt, a pair of shorts that were originally Robin’s and one of Robin’s other flannels. Meanwhile, Robin watched her and smiled as she was admiring her girlfriend. Robin herself was wearing a pair of black ripped jeans, and a tank top that was white, which Nancy had to admit made Robin smoking hot. Once Nancy was ready, she did a little breathing exercise before she looked determined. “I’m driving?” Nancy asked smirking, joking about how it was the usual. “You know it Nance,” Robin said grinning. “Ok, come on birdie, let’s get to the car now,” Nancy answered back, then rushed downstairs with her after grabbing her car keys. She was holding her hand while doing so with a smile.

They reached the car with minimal interruption as Ted didn’t bother looking at them, instead grumbling about how the pride parades were ruining the country and that it wasn’t America anymore. He hadn’t noticed his own daughter was holding a girls hand in a definitely romantic way, while Karen did notice. She smiled at both the girls apologetically and left them to go their merry way, she had assumed where they would be after all. Once they were both in, they let out little laughs and were starting to drive. “Your dads oblivious,” Robin remarked, eyes wide with shock and humour. “Oh, I know, he doesn’t know anything. Confirmed it for my mom now,” she said laughing as she drove over to the town where the parade was being held. Meanwhile, Robin was starting to look over at Nancy’s plain white shoes. “Why are you staring at my feet weirdo?” Nancy joked laughing. “Can I have your shoes for a second?” Robin asked. Nancy raised an eyebrow but nodded as she handed over her shoes. She started to drive again, not trying to focus on Robin knowing it would cause danger if so.

Once she parked up after a 30 minute drive, she looked over and was confused what Robin was doing when she noticed Robin was drawing over her shoes with Nancy’s interests. “Without consent huh?” Nancy joked as she wasn’t mad about that pair being ruined, they were old anyway. “Sorry, I just thought they were boring unlike these red vans,” Robin enthusiastically remarked. She then showed off all her drawings for Nancy. There were guns, books and also some sayings. There was also some phrases like ‘Buckley’s Girl’,’Tiddiez’and also ‘A friend of Dorothy’. Nancy looked at them and was shocked before she grinned and put her shoes on. “I love them! Thanks babe!” Nancy thanked profusely, before kissing Robin, holding her cheeks softly. Robin equality wrapped her arms around Nancy’s neck and has her eyes closed as she was rubbing her back.

Soon they pulled apart and got out as they were both blushing, and both their lips had a bit of redness due to Robin’s lipstick. “Ok birdie, lead the way,” Nancy said and held Robin’s hand proudly as she was feeling herself starting to get dragged. Robin was pulling her quickly as she was having that raw excitement in her eyes. They were soon with the other queer people as they were chatting away, while holding hands. That’s when the parade started, and they were walking with everyone, holding hands while kissing each other affectionately. They were kissing on lips, foreheads, cheeks and hands as they were being sappy with each other. Nancy and Robin were having a good time when Robin stumbled over a brick on the ground.

“What are you planning?” Nancy asked cautiously, seeing that planning look on Robin’s face. Robin was looking over at Nancy as she shrugged innocently before she took the brick and put it in her pocket. “Just a little souvenir,” Robin shrugged again before she was starting to hold Nancy’s waist and kissed her. Nancy smiled during the kiss as she pressed up closer, and was holding Robin’s shoulders. She didn’t realise they were being recorded by the news as they were soon walking again and flipped off the camera.

It had been a few hours and they were back in Hawkins. She wasn’t surprised to see on the movie theatre sign ‘Nancy The Dyke’ with ‘Robin also a dyke’ on the other side. She rolled her eyes as she was going to her house as she wanted Robin to spend the night. “I don’t have pyjamas,” Robin said as if it wasn’t obvious enough. “As if that doesn’t make a difference… you usually sleep in boxers and your sports bras you leave here~” Nancy retorted with a smirk. Robin blushed, knowing the implication as she was nodding. Her breathing did hitch. Nancy was soon parked up at her house as she got out, rushing over to Robin’s side and opened the door for her. Robin grinned as she was blushing and held her hand as they walked inside, the brick still weighing down her jeans. In fact she had to keep pulling them up. “Nancy Marie Wheeler,” Ted’s voice boomed out. Nancy froze but she held Robin’s hand as she was walking in, locking her car up. “You are out,” Ted stated, his face showing emotions that were never seen. “Excuse me, you can’t kick out your only daughter because of who she loves,” Karen intervened. “Yeah. I’m still me, just happier because I found the love of my life,” Nancy talked back as Robin looked over shocked, but with a smile as she was nodding. “Yeah. Nance was unhappy with the boys, she found herself, she’s happier and she’s my girlfriend!” Robin started to ramble before Nancy kissed her and held her face gently. “Calm down,” Nancy mumbled then ignored her dad as she dragged Robin upstairs. The argument between Karen and Ted was heard for an hour before the familiar stomps of Ted was heard. Ted then knocked on the door, interrupting Nancy and Robin from their make out session. With marks all over Nancy’s neck and lips bruised, she opened the door. “I’m sorry…” was all Ted said before he walked away. Nancy knew it was genuine so she called out,”it’s fine!” She smiled and went over to Robin after locking the door. “Now let’s have some fun~” Nancy said sultrily before she had Robin pinned.

[bosspigeon]

a space between the shadows

My VERY last-minute prompt fill for @wayhavensummer, which turned into YET ANOTHER character study of my Sad Werewolf Detective~ Prompt: 🌈First Pride, Belonging Pairing: Adam/Male Detective, Bonus Found Family Vibes~ Words: 2137 Summary: Arlo has some... complex feelings around his identity, his relationship with his closest friend, and who he is supposed to be in a place like Wayhaven. CW for allusions to homophobia, slurs, and implications of religious trauma/bigotry

Seeing as someone actually bothered to submit paperwork this time, Arlo feels it’s safe to assume there will be no (or at least fewer) strange supernatural occurrences involved in this festival. Still, he’s not sure what to make of it.

“I don’t… have to go, do I?” he asks Tina.

Tina blinks slowly at him, as if he’s suddenly become the stupidest creature to ever draw breath. “Yes,” she says simply.

“I’m just a detective, and it’s Wayhaven, it won’t be anything crazy, so I don’t have to be there to keep things—”

“Oh, no, of course not,” she interjects, well acquainted with his nervous babbling by now. He’s barely exhaled his relieved sigh when she leans her elbows on his desk and grins in his face. “We’re going in a purely civilian capacity.”

“But I don’t want to,” he says quietly, and he knows he sounds like a pouty little kid, but he can’t help it.

Tina pouts mockingly right back at him. “I don’t care.”

And that sort of sums up their entire relationship, he thinks.

Adam, of course, is about as pleased as Arlo is. Unfortunately, Adam has not yet learned what Arlo knew by sixteen— that there is no force in the known universe more powerful than Tina Poname's stubbornness. She simply can't be defeated.

"She's a little bisexual juggernaut," Arlo sighs. He's annoyed, sure, but he can't keep the fondness from his tone as he watches her swan back and forth from the safety of the sitting room.

Naturally, Tina and Felix get on like a house on fire, and the two of them have commandeered Arlo's studio. The floor is a minefield of water cups, washable paint, and drying posters. Felix has Tina's flag tied around his neck like a cape.

Mason disappeared the second the first tube of paint was popped open, though his sharpy retort of "I like what I like" when Tina asked what his persuasion was (so that she could make him a poster as well) did launch her into her practiced dissertation on the intricacies of bi and pan identities, and how they mean similar things, how at their core neither are meant to be exclusive, and it is simply a matter of personal identity and choice which one suits an individual best.

"Have you been to a Pride festival before?" Nate asks, setting down two mugs of tea on Arlo's coffee table, carefully out of the way of the map of Wayhaven he and Adam are poring over. More for Adam's peace of mind than anything. It's mostly taking place in the local park, and while there will be a parade, the route is short enough to keep things contained.

"Yeah, once," Arlo says with a shrug, and he and Adam are sitting close enough on the sofa for their shoulders to brush with the motion. "When I was at uni."

Nate hums and sits down in the armchair across from them. "I assume it was… unpleasant for you?"

Arlo smiles, flustered, and rubs at the back of his neck. "It was fine. Fun, even. I mean, I went to art school, so the turnout was great. Nerve-wracking, yeah, because so many people, but seeing your anthropology professor riding a mechanical bull in little more than nipple pasties is one hell of a distraction."

He can feel the scandalized look Adam is giving him, but he knows if he turns to meet his eyes, he'll blush all the way to his hairline, so he sips deeply from his mug instead.

Nate tilts his head, lips pursed. There's a brief twitch of amusement to them, but it settles as his brow furrows thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I don't understand. If you had a good time at the last festival you attended, why are you so hesitant to participate in one closer to home?"

Arlo looks down at his mug, thumbing at a chip in the black enamel, exposing an ellipse of white ceramic underneath. The silence is heavy, and he knows if he lets it go on too long, Nate's going to start apologizing, so he sighs hard through his nose before he barrels on. "It's… it's different here. Back at school, I wasn't… I wasn't the Detective's weird brat. I was just Priestley, the weird performing arts major." He picks a little harder at his mug. "Might sound odd, but I didn't have to perform there, not the way I do here. I could just be Arlo. Not a shadow. Just… the fuckoff huge goth from your sociology lecture hall who just so happens to like men."

He doesn't look up, but he can tell Nate is chewing over the information. As he considers, Adam shifts on the sofa, closing the bare inch of space between them so their thighs press together. Arlo peeks up, and Adam's giving him that look. The one that makes him go all soft around the edges. "I know small towns can be… conservative," he begins, and his mouth twists distastefully around the word. "But I have never gotten the impression that Wayhaven was…"

"Anything but refreshingly progressive," Nate finishes for him.

Arlo looks up with a wry smile. "Yeah, no, it's great on that front. I'm damned lucky I didn't have to grow up with Rebecca's family. It's just…" He shifts his weight, and before he can sprout claws to really start menacing his poor mug, Adam plucks it from his hands and sets it out of the way. "There's a legacy for me here," he murmurs. "One I never asked for. Sure, I don't have to worry about getting called slurs," he chews his lip, "at least, not anymore after the whole Graham thing, but I'm still… I don't really get to be me here. People here don't look at me and see Arlo. They see Rook's kid. They see Detective Priestley the Second." He huffs out a laugh. "I didn't even get to come out on my own here. I honestly don't think I ever have outside of school. Everyone knows everything they want to know about me, because I've been a landmark since I was born. This month, it's just a landmark with a rainbow flag."

Nate is giving him that sad-eyed look he gets whenever Arlo and Rebecca get into it. The one that says he wants to help, but he's not sure how.

Arlo rubs his hands over the worn denim of his dark jeans, picking at a frayed thread. There’s a spiderweb of cracks forming in the fresh coat of black polish on his thumb where the nail has begun to thicken in response to his emotional state. He sighs a little, but he doesn’t have the time to sink too deeply into his own head, because there is a pale hand creeping cautiously over his.

“Why do it, then?” Adam asks, head tilted and brows drawn, as if he truly doesn’t understand. “Officer Poname cares deeply for you. I am sure she would understand if you were honest with her.” His lips twitch faintly, and the smile he gives Arlo is touching in its earnest, if stilted, effort. “Bisexual juggernaut or no. Though, she is only little to you.”

Arlo snickers weakly, turning his face away so he can hide behind the fall of his hair. Adam doesn’t let him hide, though, brushing it out of his face, knuckles skimming the detective’s cheekbone. Arlo can’t help but sigh and lean into the touch, eyes fluttering closed.

There’s a crash and a cry from the other room, but it’s Nate’s startled noise that makes the two of them leap apart as if burned, putting a few inches of space between them.

Arlo’s face flushes hotly when Nate smiles at them, and there’s a mischievous twinkle to his dark eyes. “I wonder what that’s about!” he exclaims, clapping his hands together and springing to his feet. “I’ll go check on them, shall I? Make sure they’re not causing too much trouble.” And before Arlo can even stutter out a… something—an explanation, or maybe an apology for third-wheeling the poor man—Nate is striding off towards the studio with a spring in his step the detective can’t help but find incredibly mocking.

He closes the door behind him with a parting smile and a decisive click.

They’re left on the sofa sitting guiltily apart like a pair of teenagers caught canoodling, and surprisingly it’s Adam who breaks the stalemate by huffing through his nose and turning to Arlo again, reaching out for his hand and tugging it between his own. “You were saying?” he presses gently, his thumb tracing ticklish lines alone Arlo’s palm.

Arlo tilts his head and sighs “I guess I just… Tina’s like my sister, you know? And we wound up going to different universities in different cities, and I didn’t really get to share any of those big milestones with her. She’s not the type to be jealous I made other friends or went and had fun without her, but it feels sort of… I want to be able to share this with her, since she was one of the first people who ever bothered to… to not just care about me, but to care about me enough to…” He furrows his brow and chews at his lip, trying to figure out how to make sense of the feelings he’s never really been able to express out loud. “Neither of us belonged here, really. Sure, I was born here, but I never really felt like I was supposed to be here. I just felt like I was filling a space someone more important than me left vacant.”

He looks down at Adam’s hands, sturdy and strong, tangled up around his freckled, long-fingered one. He swallows. “Tina’s the one who looked at that space, then decided it wasn’t for either of us, and she carved out one that was.” He smiles fondly, thinking of the way Tina bullied her way into his lonely life and gave it some much-needed color. “She made a space where we could both fit. It was messy, and awkward, and we were still outcasts, but we were outcasts together.” He laughs, and it sounds suspiciously wet even to his own ears. Thankfully, Adam doesn’t bring attention to it. “Christ, I’m rambling. Does this make any sense at all?”

Adam is quiet, thoughtful for a moment, but he squeezes Arlo’s fingers to draw his eyes up again. He’s smiling, a real smile, one that Arlo is seeing more and more these days. A man could get addicted to a smile like that. “It does,” he murmurs, bringing Arlo’s hand to his mouth to brush a kiss to his palm. It’s such a simple little touch, it barely lasts a second, but it steals all the air from Arlo’s lungs.

Adam shifts, and his face scrunches a bit. “While I won’t say I am looking forward to the chaos, I am…” He looks up at Arlo again, his brows drawn, his jaw set with the same fierce determination with which he stares down trappers. “I am honored to share this with you.”

It is really not fair, the way he can just say things like that, things that would sound trite and cheesy coming from anyone else, with such naked honesty. Arlo has no choice but to kiss him. He’s rewarded by a sweet, startled noise rumbling against his mouth, but he draws back before they can get too distracted, seeing as their friends are just a room away. If Adam is pouting, Arlo’s certainly not going to be the one to tell him.

“I guess, in a way, it’s a first for the both of us, right?” he coughs, just to ease the heavy atmosphere a bit. “My first Pride in Wayhaven, and your first entirely.” He pokes Adam in the chest. “We’ll have to get you a flag. You look good in pastels.”

“Are you certain the rainbow is not too at odds with your aesthetic?” Adam teases in return.

“Goth is a state of mind,” Arlo replies archly.

They laugh quietly together, shifting again to close the distance between them. Adam turns to face Arlo more fully, their shoulders bumping in a way that is incredibly comforting in its charming awkwardness. “What is wrong with Agent Priestley’s family?” he asks, keeping his voice low so as not to draw the attention of their companions chattering in the other room.

Arlo tries to smile, but it comes off as more of a tense grimace. “Catholic,” he snorts.

Adam’s expression mirrors his so perfectly, Arlo has to clap a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t bark out a laugh. “Ah,” the vampire says primly. “I understand.”

Arlo gives up and collapses against the vampire, snickering helplessly into his neck.

[carriagelamp]

Since it’s Pride Month, I decided this year I wanted to raid the library for a bunch of different queer books to read. Mostly graphic novels in this case, because I’ve had a hard time settling into much reading lately... thought hopefully now that it’s summer and I finally have my second shot I’ll be able to relax a bit more and dig into some heavier novels again. For now, enjoy some light, queer reads that I indulged in this June.

A Wolf Called Wander

A beautiful novel I had been hearing lots about. This story follows the young wolf Swift, who grows up knowing that he and his pack are the mountains, and the mountains are them. It’s in those mountains that he grows and learns and loves… until disaster strikes and he finds himself viciously torn apart from his family and forced out of the mountains that have always meant home to him. Forced to survive on his own. Swift then begins a gruelling journey that makes him face injury, starvation, and the everpresent danger of humans as he seeks a new place he can call home, and new people with whom he can form a pack.

This is all based on the true story of a tagged wolf known as OR-7, following the unbelievable route he took through Oregon and northern California! It was a very neat read, and I’d definitely recommend it if you enjoy stories told from an animal’s perspective because this book is a master class in it.

Bloom

I decided for June to try to read a handful of different queer books, and this was one of the first graphic novels I picked up. It is a super sweet story and the art is lovely. It’s about Ari, a boy who has just graduated high school and is now desperate to move away from his small town and his family’s struggling bakery, to join his band in the city where they hope to make it big. An agreement is finally reached: Ari’s father will let him leave, if he can find someone who can replace him in the bakery, which is how Ari meets Hector, someone who sees artistry and peace in baking. For anyone that’s read Check, Please, it gives off those types of vibes!

Boule et Bill: Bill est Maboul

Another book of Dupuis comics, because I can’t get enough of them! This one I just stumbled across and ended up reading on a whim but it was very cute. Geared younger than the others I’ve read, but still quite funny. It’s the charming hijinks of a young boy, his dog, and the family they live with. Each page or so is a different stand alone joke, a bit like Calvin and Hobbes except expanded beyond a single strip.

Chicken Run: Chicken Pies for the Soul

This was a ridiculous urge I got and had to follow. I recently rewatched Chicken Run (which is, of course, one of the best movies ever made) and felt the need to see if it had ever been novelized. Well, I found something better than a novelization! This is a chapter book with “advice” and stories written by the various characters, post-movie. It really does a good job with grasping the different characters’ voices and making something simple and funny out of it. It was very cute (and available on The Internet Archive if anyone else feels like reading something ridiculous!)

Doodleville

I picked this up on a whim and honestly, I shouldn’t have bothered. It was not very impressive. Very mediocre, awkward feeling artwork, and a story that only slightly manages to redeem it. The concept was kind of neat, and I did like how the ending came about, the rest was rather… plodding. I did not like the main character at all, her friends felt very Intentionally Quirky Aren’t We Cute :3 in a way that just tries too hard, and… yeah. Meh. It technically gets the “queer graphic novel flag” but it’s so in-passing that it feels rather excessive to give it that.

If you are interested, it’s about a world were doodles actually exist as living creatures that can be drawn into existence (the rather unsettling implications of which is never fully explored). This is all well and good, until the main character draws a monster and takes it with her to her art club... where it begins ravanging not only her doodles, but those of her friends. Together they need to work together to figure out how to stop this menace.

FRNCK v4

Phenomenal. I adore the FRNCK series, and book four wrapped up the first “cycle”, revealing several of the big secrets dogging the series so far, and changing how things are going to be able to run in the future.

If you haven’t seen me talk about it before, FRNCK is a graphic novel (a franco-belgian bande dessinée) about a young orphan, Franck, who’s chafing under the constant parade of uninterested foster parents that visit the orphanage he lives in. Determined to learn about his mysterious abandonment instead, he flees the orphanage… but finds himself tumbling through time, landing among a family of cave-people who rather reluctantly take him in and ensure this modern boy doesn’t die in the strange, dangerous new surroundings he finds himself in. You can get these ones in English as e-books, so if you want a really kickass graphic novel series to read please try these.

Haikyu!!

I’ve heard so much about Haikyu!! that I finally gave in and picked up the first book from the library. And I gotta say, it’s well worth the hype! This series really does capture the best parts of a good sports manga -- which is to say the team is filled with interesting, enjoyable character who all need to learn to pull together, boost each other’s strengths, and cover for each other’s weaknesses. Love me some found family tropes and this series oozes it in the best possible way. And then you also get some very cool action scenes as it makes high school volleyball seem like the most intense thing on earth. I can’t wait to continue it

Queer Eye

I haven’t been keeping up with Queer Eye but I was watching it ravenously when it first came out, and this seemed like a very cathartic book to read… and it really was. It had the same gentle, loving encouragement as the show. It doesn’t expect you to change your entire life, but to learn to embrace who you are, and take small steps to enhance those things. There a segment written (presumably) by each member of the Fab Five, explaining the mentality behind what they do on the show and how you can grow in those areas too. It’s very zen.

Spinning

I got this graphic novel out at the same time as Bloom, but it was the one that interested me less of the two... though that’s just because I have less interest in “real world” slice of life as a genre and this one is meant to be autobiographical. If you’re into that, you’ll probably love this because it really is stunning. Very pretty, and the format and pacing is all really well done. It’s a coming of age story for Tillie as she grows up dealing with a crosscountry move, complicated friendships, a burgeoning attraction to girls, and attending competitive figure skating classes.

This Place: 150 Years Retold

A stunning and heart-wrenching graphic novel told by a collection of different First Nation’s authors/artists, recounting oral histories about the 150 years since the colonialist formation of the country known as “Canada”. In other words, this is a post-apocalypse story, but one that really happened and that entire peoples are still fighting to survive. It’s very eye opening and beautifully told. Very strongly recommend the read, especially if you’re at all interested in history.

Torchwood: Serenity

Whoops, not technically a book. I had thought these were technically audiobooks at first, but rather they’re audio dramas that were played on the radio. Still, I decided to include one because I’ve been listening to them like a person possessed and they’re too fun not to at least mention. Let me indulge in my obsessions.

If you don’t know Torchwood, it’s a BBC series that spins-off from Doctor Who, focusing on the enigmatic and flirtatious Captain Jack Harkness, who is running the covert organization known as Torchwood, which is tasked to protect humanity from and prepare them for alien contact. It’s goofy and campy but also more adult and heavy than Doctor Who tends to get, so it is (in my opinion) a really fascinating series. Though it also has content warnings coming out the wazoo so maybe make sure it’s for you before delving in.

Serenity specifically is possibly one of the best Torchwood stories I’ve ever experienced. The Torchwood team concludes that there’s an undercover alien hiding in the idyllic gated community Serenity Plaza, and so that means it’s up to Jack and Ianto to go undercover as a happily married couple and flush out the alien without being discovered first. Even if it means being sickly sweet together, pretending to care about the local neighbourhood barbecues, and actually caring a bit too much about the Best Front Lawn competition. What is truly magical about this one, is that it manages to make it a Fake Dating AU despite the fact that Jack and Ianto are actually dating in canon. But they’re both used to dating as a pair of alien hunters with insanely dysfunctional lives, and who now need to figure out how to deal with domesticity. It is marvellous.

Wilderlore: The Accidental Apprentice

A middle grade novel that felt a bit like a cross between Harry Potter and Pokemon. It’s about orphan Barclay Thorne who wants nothing more than to be accepted in the rule-bound village of Dullshire, and live up to his apprenticeship as a mushroom farmer. He certainly wants nothing to do with the fearsome Beasts who live beyond the village, deep in the Woods or the sinister Lorekeepers that bond with them. It was, after all, a Beast that had killed his parents all those years ago. But when he finds himself at the very edge of the forest, hunting for an elusive mushroom, he is suddenly unable to avoid any of that. Not when a wild girl and her bonded dragon appear to summon a horrible Beast and end up getting Barclay bonded to it instead. Now, if Barclay ever wants to be welcomed back into his home, he has no choice but to venture into the Woods and find a way to sever the bond imprisoning him to the massive, monstrous wolf now imprinted on his body as a living tattoo.

I honestly can’t decide how I felt about this one. I feel like it’d be a really fun read for maybe a grade 5 to 7 student? I was a bit more meh about it. It was fine, but it was very hard not to draw unfavourable parallels to Harry Potter. But for a kid who’s never read Harry Potter? Or even an adult that has but is looking for something different to scratch that itch, this might be a good book to try. I’ll probably try reading the second book when it comes out.

[obaby-me]

hi again! can i ask a scenario where the mc is not a virgin and they meet her "first" man? (like, ex friend with benefits?)

This is going to be less about the loss of your virginity and more of a focus of your previous lover. That you have had sex before them means little to the boys. It is with whom they focus on.

Lucifer

When Lucifer had been told that he would need to run an errand in the human, in your old hometown, he hadn’t imagined taking you for a visit to be as stressful as it was.

Initially, it had been lovely, strolling through the streets as you lead him around and introduced him to the various streets and stores and shared with him your memories of each with family and with friends.

One friend in particular seemed to jump into every memory. To say he was a little jealous that this friend had more memories with you than he did would be an understatement. But Lucifer had barely known you a year, it was to be expected, so he swallowed it down in to deepest pit of him. He wanted to just enjoy his time with you and not constantly wonder.

And then you met up and introduced Lucifer to said friend, and Lucifer’s felt that tense ball in his gut rise into his chest.

They were a little more familiar with you than he expected any friend to be. Arms slung around your shoulders and waist and hugs that lingered a little long. You two spoke freely with one another, catching up on old times and laughing at inside jokes that were a little more flirtatious in nature than he was comfortable with.

But what got him to snap was the cavalier whisper that was far too loud to be subtle from your friend, “how you been sleeping out there on your own? You been missing me?”

The way you looked away with a furrowed brow, and wrapped your arms tightly around you spoke volumes of how uncomfortable you were on the subject, but it seems your friend took it to be a sign that you were just playing shy. A hand that attempted to clasp yours was quickly ripped away by the Avatar of Pride, with a glare so terrifying, it felt like an army was parading over your friend’s grave.

“W-well, you know you can always give me a call if you ever do, just like old times.” Your friend gave you a wink, and exited quickly, leaving the two of you in an awkward sort of silence.

“An ex?” Lucifer coughed, clearing the tenseness in the air.

“Of a sort. We were never official. Just a call when you’re looking for a good time kind of friend,” you explained.

Lucifer gives a small noise acknowledging he’d heard you but his head is another world as he considers your interactions with your friend. He’s uneasy.

It’s not that you had a friend with benefits situation previously that he’s concerned about. Asmo has a novel’s worth. But is it still a thing, even now?

A question sits on his tongue that he refuses to ask. Instead he offers that you take him to the next destination to show him around the town.

“I don’t call for that anymore,” you say in assurance as you slip your hand into his. “I-if that matters to you.”

Lucifer smiles softly. He’d never admit that it does, but he’s thankful you know him enough to answer his thoughts for him.

Mammon

“A high school reunion is not so dangerous you need to be this on guard,” you laugh placing a hand on Mammon’s arm. Maybe he was overplaying his role a little, he thought to himself. But embarrassed to be called out on it he gives his usual excuse, “I’m your first man, aren’t I? I gotta keep ya safe.”

You shush him between giggles. “You know how that sounds!” He grins at you in return.

He knows how it sounds. He knows the impression it gives to others—and he likes it. Like he’s special, and important to you—your number one.

“You’re the first? That what you’ve been told? That’s a laugh. I’ll have you know I was the first.” A voice sounds from behind him.

“What?” Mammon shouts, louder than intended, whipping his head around in surprise at the interrupting eavesdropper. “And who the hell are you?”

“Just an old friend,” grins a vaguely familiar face. The way the word friend is pronounced clearly implies something else. It makes Mammon’s stomach churn.

It takes him a moment of scrutinizing and attempting to match the face to a name. While the name escapes him, Mammon recognizes the smug mug from older photos you shared with him the night before—reminiscing on old friends, teachers, clubs and dances during your preparation for your reunion.

This was a frequent offender, present in damn near every photo—one of the very reasons Mammon even came in the first place.

“It’s been awhile. This your boyfriend?”

“Y-yeah, actually!” Mammon quickly announces, looping an arm into yours and puffing himself up a little. He was laughed at, even by you, but you didn’t deny him. Actually, were you cuddling in closer?

“Too bad. We haven’t talked in awhile, but the arrangement’s always still open on my end for you. I’m always just a text away, yeah?” There was a flirtatious wink to which you rolled your eyes in response. But your face flushes in a way that catches Mammon’s attention. He couldn’t decide if you were bashful or angry.

You open your mouth to end the subject—hell, this conversation, but Mammon interjects, curious.

“What arrangement?”

“Best friends with the best benefits kind of arrangement.” Laughs your old friend, wiggling eyebrows up and down into the air to really drive the point home.

“W-what—“ Mammon stutters, the news catching him off guard.

“Well, we’re not best friends anymore, and there are no more benefits available,” you say flatly.

“Reunions are for reconnecting. I’m just offering—“

“You can keep your offer to yourself.” You huff, taking a sip of your drink. The way your arm tightens around Mammon’s tells him it was time to leave.

“Don’t be like that. Are you still mad about—”

“Yeah, actually, I am.” Your disgust quite clear in your tone.

Saving you the trouble of having to argue your way out of the conversation, Mammon drags you to the exit for some fresh air.

It takes you some time to let the steam out of your system, but when you finally have, Mammon tentatively tries to broach the subject, his curiosity killing him.

Unfortunately, subtlety is not his strongest suite.

“So, your friend back there, was uh,“ he starts.

“Yeah, my first. Technically.” You tell him with a shameful groan. “Turned a good friend into a complete shithead though.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Mammon says with distaste.

Laughing aloud and dropping your head against him, you hum. “You know you’re my first man in all the categories that actually count, right?”

“R-right. Of course I know that. I’m the GREAT Mammon. I’m obviously number one to you in lots of other ways!”

“That’s right,” you assure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Number one right here,” you whisper, pulling one of his hands to your chest over your heart.

Leviathan

“Hey! Wasn’t that account last logged into like years ago?” Levi asks, pointing to a name on your friends list you hadn’t seen online in ages.

You grimace at the name. You had forgotten to remove them given that you hadn’t played this particular game in awhile. Just as you are about to delete the name a message appears.

heyyy. been awhile

“Whose that?” Levi asks curiously. “Do they wanna hop in with us?”

“I don’t really want to ask,” you say, a look of distaste flashing across your features, as another message dings.

how you been

“They bad at the game or something?” Levi asks with amusement.

“Actually plays quite well,” you admit. “I just think it would be awkward if we were to play together again.”

i been missing u

do u wanna hang

?

“Oh, are they uh, like... an ex, or something?” Asks Levi with wide eyes as the messages appear on the screen.

“Or something,” you say shyly to a curious looking Levi. “We were... we weren’t official. We were just friends, but like, friends that had sex every once in awhile.”

“O-oh!” Levi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his face heating red. Partially due to the subject matter, partially at a irritation born from jealousy.

“We used to be pretty close. We were each other’s firsts. But pretty soon, every ‘heyyy’ turned into ‘u wanna hang’ and then ‘u feelin’ like a fuk?’” Your irritation is evident in your voice.

As predicted, the very next message you receive is,

or maybe smth else?? ;)

“We weren’t really friends by the end of it. So I just stopped responding. Every once in awhile I get another heyyy.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at the message that proved your point.

“Just remove them from your friends list!” Levi hisses, glaring at the message filled screen.

“I was going to!” You assure him. Proof quickly following as you selected the option to remove from friends list.

Levi exhales a sigh of relief, to which you giggle. Hoping to console him, you offer a quick kiss on his cheek. But for Levi, it’s not enough. He pulls you into him for just a little bit of something else.

Satan

With a bag full of books swinging in one hand, and yours clasped tight in the other, Satan doesn’t think there’s anything in all the realms that could possible put a damper on his mood today.

But a stop for a small social event proves him wrong.

An old friend had given you a call to meet up while you were back in your hometown, and you had agreed—after all, it had been a couple of years since you two had last seen each other.

Knocking on the apartment door, the Satan shifts uncomfortably in place.

“Don’t worry so much,” you reassure him with a smile. “You always make a wonderful first impression.”

But Satan is uncertain. This is your friend of the human realm. The Devildom, he relates far easier to, but here he is very foreign and he worries he might miss a custom or two. Do you feel this way in the Devildom?

The door opens to a rather excitable human, eager to see you, and throwing arms around you in a display of affection.

“It’s so lovely to see you again!”

“I have missed you!” You respond in kind.

Your friend shifts their gaze to Satan and he can see their face fall a little. Has he already done something wrong?

“Oh, I didn’t think you were bringing a friend along.”

“This is Satan.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Satan says quickly introducing himself with a handshake.

“Likewise.” Though Satan knows already that isn’t true for your friend who seems disappointed at his presence.

The rest of the visit isn’t unusual, but there seems to be quite emphasis on the relationship between you and Satan.

“So, this is your boyfriend?”

“Yes! We’ve been together a few months now.”

“Real serious, are you?”

“Yes,” Satan responds with a nod.

“I see,” your friend nods solemnly.

By the time the visit has completed, Satan knows he’s not well liked, but doesn’t understand why. You seemed to have picked up on it though.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what?”

“About my friend. I think their request for a visit wasn’t so much a visit as it was, well, a booty call.”

“A what?” Satan asked stunned. Not by the concept, but that someone would ask that of you.

“It means—“

“I know what it means. Just, why would—“

“Well, we used to be a thing before. Not like, a couple. Just a sort of friends with benefits sort of situation.” You explain, looking sheepish.

“You used to—“

“Yes. It started with just wanting to try sex out for the first time, and it just sort of continued for awhile.”

Satan pauses to consider this. “That would explain the looks. Jealousy,” Satan said with a prideful smirk, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him.

You laugh and nod, leaning against him while you continue your stroll through your old neighborhood.

Asmodeus

“Who’s the cutie in all your pictures?” Asmo asks you one day, as you lay out on the couch and over top of him.

You’re resting your head within his lap, and Asmo idly runs one hand through your hair, while the other busies itself on his D.D.D.

He’s been flipping through your old photos, curious of the human life his little lover has led before him.

You stop your browsing through suggested videos on Deviltube to look up at him.

“Hm?”

“This one!” Asmo clarifies, zooming in on a face in a photo you had taken just before your move to the Devildom. “Nearly every group photo you’ve taken has this cutie in it! A lover perhaps?” He probes with interest.

“Yes and no. Just a friend,” you admit a little bashful, “Always, just a friend. But sometimes, well,” you trailed off and shrugged your shoulder a little. “We, y’know.”

“Have sex.” Asmo finishes for you, amused. Given all the ways he’s loved you, and all the talks you’ve had together, that you would still blush was endearing.

“This photo was just before you came,” Asmo notes. “Were you still together just before coming here?”

“Yes, sort of. We only rarely did so,” you explain. “Like, special occasions, and when we were feeling especially lonely. I mean, we were each other’s firsts. It just felt comfortable to do.” You say with a melancholic smile. Apparently the memories were good ones.

Asmo should be very happy for you. You have someone to have a good time with without the strings of romance, someone to experiment with, someone who could play on a kink that perhaps you hadn’t been able to find in another person (until Asmo, of course). Asmo himself practically invented the concept of a fuck buddy, and encouraged it for everyone. He’s always supported or encouraged others to enjoy the sexual experience without all the confining social rules and obligations and expectations that come with relationships.

But the Avatar of Lust had never been in love before. He was now.

The anxiety that gripped his airways was unlike any other worries he’d had before. Jealousy is not a new concept. The idea that no one might want him, like him, love him, was a constant fear. He built his entire life making absolutely sure that someone around him always did.

But it had never mattered to him who. Just as long as someone did.

Now it does. Now it matter more than anything that you did.

“Sounds like someone you’re quite fond of. Like they have a special place in your heart.” He murmurs, tracing the contours of your sweet face with his fingers.

“A place. But not a special place,” you say tilting your face to catch his fingers for a gentle kiss. “Only you exist within that space. No one else is allowed there.”

Asmo giggles, your reassurance settling him. “But of course, who could possibly compare?”

Beelzebub

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Beel hears you say from your bedroom. Your door is slightly ajar, and your voice is clear.

“That’s fine. Delete my number, I don’t care.” You sound tired more than agitated, though certainly the expression denotes otherwise. Tired of the conversation, of the caller, and from the lack of sleep. Beel doesn’t expect anyone else to be awake when he does his nightly kitchen raids.

“You don’t need to know why, just that I said no.” He hears your footsteps coming towards the door and Beel takes a few steps back to pretend he’s been strolling past.

But you seem to have caught on that he was there. You point to his looming shadow that had come in through the door that was his give away. Sheepishly he enters, and finds his spot on the bed. Shifting his legs so that you could plant yourself between them and lay back against him, he wraps his arms around you. He loves holding you like this. He knows you love it too. It is the most common way either of you are ever seen together—it’s comfortable as much as it is comforting, which you seem to sorely need right now.

He kisses your hair gently, softly, soundlessly so as not to disturb your phone call.

What is it? Is it cause you got someone now?

Beel hears from over the phone. He’s not trying to eavesdrop, he tells himself, he just so happens to be overhearing it because you’re cuddled so close to him.

“Doesn’t matter whether I do or not. I don’t want to. Not now. Not later.”

What we have is special—

“There is no ‘we have’. That was the entire point, that was your point when we stopped over a year ago. No strings attached, remember?”

But we’ve been together since the first. Our firsts!

“Yes, and that was nice then, and isn’t now. Stop asking me!” You’re becoming riled up now, and Beel doesn’t like to see you this way. He kisses the hand that holds your phone and gently tugs it away. You don’t put up any fight, and he hangs it up.

He gives you gentle kisses down your cheek, tilting your head up to him so that he can kiss your lips, softly, gently. Little peppered pecks to let you know he is here, he loves you, you are safe. You meet every little kiss with one of your own, a thank you for each one you receive.

Your phone lights up, indicating another call is coming in though it remains silent.

“Block his number,” Beel mutters. “But not right now.”

You hum happily against his kisses, and simply turn the phone screen down.

Belphegor

Belphie knows when you’re upset and you’re hiding something. You sigh in a way you think he can’t hear, but he can feel it in the way you breathe lying in his arms.

“What’s the matter?” he mumbles without bothering to open his eyes.

“Nothing,” you say, sounding rather surprised that he had noticed at all. He smirks, loving the way he knows you so well.

Slowly he encircles your waist and tugs you even closer to him. He hums as he kisses your neck, knowing the overwhelming affection will persuade you to him: either because you feel comfortable, or because it annoys you. It depends on your mood, it depends on the day. Either way, it works, and he gets kisses. He doesn’t mind.

You giggle but try to pull yourself away, not in the mood.

“It’s nothing important,” you clarify. “Just received a text from someone I never thought I would again.”

“Someone good, or someone bad?” Belphie asks.

“Was good, now, I don’t know.” You say with a sigh as you turn to face him. “Was a good friend. Were very close for a time. Very close.” You emphasized. “It just sort of fell apart after, well...”

Belphie, eyed you, patiently waiting for more. He wasn’t one to rush you as you tried to gather your words. Instead he trailed fingers over your arms, busying himself with how soft your skin was.

“I just didn’t end up feeling the same way, you know? I suppose it shouldn’t have been a surprise given all the sex, but—“

“Sex?” Belphie asked, his eyes snapping to lock on to yours.

“Yes. Like I said, we were very close.” You repeated, punctuating very close again, as if Belphie was suppose to have somehow understood the connotation the first time. “Was even my first,” you sigh, sounding disappointed.

“We had a no-strings attached thing agreement to keep it very casual.” You said shyly averting your gaze. “But apparently, feelings that weren’t there, suddenly were. Not on my end, but—“ You sighed again.

“So what’s the text say?” Belphie asked.

“Just hey.”

“You gonna say anything back?” Belphie asked quietly, his insides in turmoil at the thought of you reconnecting with, with... a sex buddy.

You have me, he argues without words—his hands drift to your waist to pull you against him, where he grinds gently.

Catching his concerns, you smile and drape a leg over him as he begins a grind.

“No,” you hum, tossing your phone on to the pillow behind you to cuddle into your needy boyfriend. “I don’t need anyone else,” you assure him, your mood shifting now that your mind no longer fretted over an old lover. Time to focus on your current one.

[pocket-luv101]

First Impressions // Chapter 3

Fandom: Servamp Ship: LawLicht (main), KuroMahi (side), Tetsono (side), Jekuni (side) Characters: Hyde, Licht, Kuro, Mahiru

Summary: After Licht meets the wealthy bachelor, Hyde, she was certain that she could never be friends with him. Their paths continues to cross and she slowly comes to know him. Licht wonders if she judged him too quickly. (LawLicht, Pride and Prejudice AU, Fem Licht)

Ch.1 // Ch.2 // (Ch.3) //

Mikuni didn’t bother to knock on Misono’s bedroom door before she entered. The room was dark but she had to note that smoke lingered over the candle as if the fire was recently doused. She turned away from the candle and looked to her sisters sleeping on the floor of Misono’s room. The sight reminded her of their childhood where they would make forts and tents to camp on the ground.

She could easily conclude that her sisters were pretending to sleep so they wouldn’t have to start their morning chores. The sun was only beginning to rise so Mikuni didn’t see a reason to wake them. The amber hue of sunrise was tainted with grey rain clouds. They had time before the rooster would wake the town. She knelt next to her sisters and adjusted the blanket over them. Her eyes fell onto the book next to Licht’s pillow, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

When they returned from the party, Mahiru suggested the sisters sleep in the same room and read the play Licht had brought for Misono. Mikuni knew that the suggestion was to lift Misono’s spirits after their mother’s hurtful words so Mikuni agreed. Her only condition was for them to sleep before midnight because they needed to wake early to care for the horses.

She had to finish the bookkeeping for the night so she told them to sleep first. Since they attended the ball, Mikuni stayed up later than she usually would. She was disappointed that she fell asleep in her office and missed the sleepover with her sisters. She placed the play on the desk and lit the candle again. “I know you’re merely pretending to be asleep, Ladies. While I was walking down the hall, I could hear you three reading the play. It’s not good for your eyesight to read in the dark.”

“Then we shall switch from reading the play to discuss our new neighbours? Licht told us that Hyde was the one to suggest the comedy.” Misono said and gestured for Mikuni to lay down with them. Despite how Mikuni knew it would be more responsible to start the day, she settled onto a pillow instead. “Perhaps we shall see them if we go to the theater. Mahiru will have the opportunity to speak with Kuro again.”

“Mother has voiced her approval of them due to their wealth but I dare say we must protect each other from them. We cannot trust them. Hyde called Mahiru mad when she is clearly an angel! He also bribed the mayor to sneak into the library.” Even as she spoke, Licht thought of her talk with Hyde earlier that night. She rolled onto her stomach and stared out the window to Hanafield manor in the morning light. “There is also their brother who lives in the town under a false name. Who do you think he is?”

“Kuro said his brother has his reasons to hide their family name. We shouldn’t pry. They aren’t a traditional noble family but we shouldn’t judge them. Our peers would say we’re far from conventional women and we know how hurtful it is to be called such.” Mahiru reminded them. The four sisters each had their own passion and they wanted to do more with their skills than call it a hobby. “People are far too complex to judge who they are after only one meeting.”

Mahiru thought of Kuro and pulled her blanket to her lips to hide her grin. She was certain her sisters would tease her for the budding crush. “At first glance, Kuro appears to be the perfect lord with how handsome he is. He can’t dance though. He stepped on my feet several times but his effort was so earnest and charming that I accepted another dance when he asked. I’ve never danced so much in a night.”

“All the mothers at the ball must’ve been jealous of you for catching Lord Ash’s fancy. I’m certain he spent half the night dancing with you. The rest of the night, he spent smiling at you. I would venture to say he’s smitten with you, Mahiru.” Mikuni laughed.

Heavy knocks pounded on the wall and it startled them. Licht instinctively placed her hand on Misono’s shoulder to protect her younger sister. She relaxed when Sakura’s voice travelled through the wall. “I’m trying to sleep! Quiet down!”

“Sakura does have a point. It’ll be better to continue our conversation while we do the morning chores. We won’t be bothering the ones still asleep.” Mahiru said and sat up. “We can’t waste the morning. The stable hands will come soon and I want to make something warm for them to eat. Will you help me, Misono? You can give something special to Tetsu.”

“What? Why would you mention Tetsu specifically in such a way? I don’t have any feelings for him.” Misono insisted with a bright blush.

“Oh, don’t be so upset. Mahiru is teasing you about your crush on Tetsu because you brought up her crush on Kuro earlier.” Mikuni laughed when both of her sisters tried to deny her feelings. She stood and placed the pillows back onto the bed. They cleaned the room and Licht’s eyes fell onto the play Hyde gave her. She made a note to herself to return the book to the library.

She wondered if she would see him once again since he appeared to enjoy reading. Hyde’s teasing grin from the day they met contradicted the soft smile he had at the library. He had heard their mother insult Misono and intended to ask her to dance. She didn’t know if he was motivated by pity or compassion. But the thoughtfulness in his red eyes made her heart stumble for a reason she couldn’t need. Licht cared for her sister and she was happy to see someone treat them kindly.

She didn’t know why she couldn’t stop picturing his face. Licht pulled her thoughts away from the man and she followed her sisters out the door. They went through their morning routine. Their family’s wealth was modest so they couldn’t afford a robust staff to care for the house. The sisters loved the aging building and they would help the staff maintain the home of their memories.

There was a knock on the front door and Licht glanced at the time. It was far too early for their stable hands to arrive and they would usually knock on the back door. Licht answered the door but she didn’t recognize the man on the other side. He bowed politely to her and held out a letter. “Good morning. I am the footman for the Servamps and they asked me to deliver you this invitation.”

“Thank you.” Licht was surprised by the invitation but she took the letter into her hand. She closed the door and she carried the letter to her sisters. She tore off the seal and opened it to skim the words. Mikuni was the first one to notice her reading.

“What is that?” Mikuni asked and looked over her shoulder. “The Servamps are inviting us to morning tea? I didn’t think we had made such a good impression on them to do such. The letter names all of us but my intuition tells me that this is clearly meant for Mahiru. The letter mentions that it was a pleasure to dance and she was the only one to dance with a Servamp.”

“I would love to have tea with the family.” Mahiru took the letter and searched for the line Mikuni mentioned. She smiled to herself once she found it. Then, she folded the letter and placed it on the counter. “But we will be far too busy to pay them a visit. I need to work with the staff to plan for Haruto’s visit next week. Mikuni will be too occupied with the family business to do so.”

“I’m sure Misono can handle the horses while I arrange everything for our cousin.” Mikuni waved away her protest. “Misono has been working with me and the family business for a year now and she can handle it for the day. If you want to go, you can without worrying about us. Do you want to attend the morning tea as well, Licht?”

“Since we went to the party last night, I wasn’t able to practise my piano like I usually would. I planned to compensate for that time by practising an extra two hours today.” Licht could see how excited Mahiru was by the invitation and added: “I would go to protect Mahiru from that demon but his siblings will be there. She should be safe having tea with them.”

“Thank you.” Mahiru beamed a smile at her sisters and held the letter close to her chest. “We would sneak into Hanafield’s garden and play. This will be my first time inside the manor. I will ask them to invite you three another time so you can see it as well. I’m so excited. Oh, we should tell mother and have the carriage prepared before the rain starts.”

Mahiru placed the letter in her pocket as she left the kitchen to tell their mother. She quickly found her in the drawing room and she sat across from her. “Mother, I have been invited to have morning tea. May I take the carriage to visit them? They live next to us but the distance is too far to walk.”

“I have already promised Sakura that we would take the carriage to town and watch the officers enter town. There shall be a parade! She’s so excited to meet a soldier and I hope the weather doesn’t postpone the parade.” Her mother took Mahiru’s hand and patted it gently. She didn’t feel her mother’s warmth after she said: “We have thirty horses and you can ride one to visit your friend for tea. I need the carriage.”

“I understand, Mother.” Mahiru nodded to her. She told herself to look forward to having tea with the Servamps and the opportunity to speak with Kuro again.

“Is this the file that you were looking for, Misono?” Licht asked and held out the folder to her. While she wasn’t as business minded like Mikuni, she did her best to help when Misono asked for her assistance. Mikuni said she trusted her with the family’s business but she felt a little uncertain. She was happy to have Licht’s support. “Perhaps I can bring the piano into the office to play a song to motivate you.”

“You’re a strong angel but I doubt you can carry the pianoforte up the stairs. Even if you did, you’ll leave drag marks on the ground and Mahiru will scream the moment she sees that.” They laughed as they pictured Mahiru’s reaction. She glanced out the window and she noted how heavy the rain had become. “Mahiru hasn’t returned from morning tea yet. Do you think the mud has slowed the carriage?”

As if to answer their question, Mikuni entered the room clutching a letter. Licht immediately knew that something was amiss by her pale face. “The Servamps sent us a message. Mahiru has fallen sick with a cold. She rode a horse to their manor and it started to rain during the last mile of the journey. They’re treating her cold but the doctor says it might take the night for her to recover.”

“Mahiru should know better than to ride a horse in this weather. What on earth would persuade her to do so?” Licht took the letter from her sister. She knew Mikuni would never lie about Mahiru’s condition but she was in disbelief. She wanted to immediately go to the Servamp’s manor to see her condition and to ensure that she was being treated well. In the back of her mind, she was reminded that Misono needed her help with the family business. She loved both of her sisters.

Licht turned to Misono and there was an understanding between them without speaking. “You should go, Licht. I’m worried about Mahiru as well and I’ll feel better if one of us was there with her. Mikuni and I will stay here to deal with the family affairs. We’ll go to Hanafield once we complete the work here.”

“I’ll send you a more detailed letter about Mahiru’s condition the moment I see her.” Licht promised.

She gripped the letter in her fist as she ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Licht only stopped to put on a coat and her bonnet. In the corner of her eyes, she saw her mother step into the foyer. She thought her mother may question why she would run into the rain. She rushed to explain as she tied the ribbons of her bonnet.

“Mahiru has fallen sick from riding in the rain and I must go to her bedside. She is being cared for by the Servamps since they planned to have tea together.” Licht slipped her feet into her boots without lacing them, worried that Mahiru’s condition could worsen if she dawdled for even a moment. “I will ride Pegasus so there’s no need to prepare the carriage.”

“The morning tea was with the Servamps? If I knew, I would’ve allowed her to take the carriage and have her bring Sakura with her. That would’ve been the perfect opportunity for her to impress the family.” Her mother sighed and Licht bit her tongue. “Sakura will be so upset with Mahiru for not telling her. She was already disappointed that we couldn’t take the carriage into town due to this rain.”

“Your daughter has fallen ill yet you speak of the feelings of Sakura’s alone? You have more than one daughter, Mother! Hell, Mahiru has been more of a mother to your daughters and she’s the third oldest of us. You would match us with husbands in exchange for dresses and Father will do the same for money to gamble.” Her worry for Mahiru caused her frustration to boil until she couldn’t contain it. Licht’s yells could be heard throughout the house. She didn’t bother to listen to her mother’s reply before she stormed out the door.

Hyde stood on the perron staircase behind the manor and he was protected from the rain by the canopy above his head. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. He could see the creek past their garden and he recalled his first meeting with Licht. Their footman sent the family a letter to inform them that Mahiru became sick in the rain.

Sharp blue eyes played on his mind and he pondered if Licht would visit them to see her sister. She threw her shoe at him for insulting Mahiru and yelled at her mother for hurting Misono’s feelings. It was easy to see that she cared more for her sisters than how society saw her. Hyde couldn’t help but respect her passion and conviction.

He put out his cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the stair rail. Hyde intended to return into the warmth of the manor but something past the creek caught his attention. The person was too far for him to know who the rider was but he could see that they were riding towards the creek. He stepped into the rain and walked down the stone staircase.

The creek was only a short walk from Hanafield’s garden so he was able to reach the water with a light jog. On the other side of the creek, the horse continued to sprint towards the water but the rider made no move to slow down. Hyde tried to call out to the person to stop but his voice was drowned out by the rain striking the creek.

His eyes widened when the horse leapt over the creek and landed a few feet next to him. Hyde pulled himself out of his shock and he grabbed the horse’s reins to force it to stop. He shouted up at the rider: “Are you mad to perform such a dangerous jump in this rain?”

“Let go of me, Demon! I need to see my sister.” Hyde recognized Licht’s voice only a moment before she kicked him. Their screams scared her horse and the animal instinctively rose onto its hindlegs. She was thrown from the saddle and she braced herself from the impact with the ground. Instead, she found herself in warm arms when Hyde caught her.

“Are you okay, Angel Cakes?” Hyde asked. His heart was still racing and he didn’t know which of them was more startled. He looked down at her in his arms and the first thing he noticed was the tears staining her cheeks. He assumed that they were caused by worry for her sister and he wanted to reassure her. Before he could, Licht pushed lightly on his chest.

He placed her on the ground and Licht moved in front of the horse. With a simple hand on the horse’s muzzle, it became calm. Licht spoke to the horse in a soft voice and he was surprised by how lulling it was. “It’s okay, Pegasus. I was upset but I shouldn’t have rode so recklessly in the rain. When we return home, I will brush you and give you apples.”

“Our staff can care for your steed.” Hyde offered. He took off his jacket and held it over her head so she would be sheltered from the rain. The hem of her dress was coated in mud and her hair was dishevelled from the ride. Yet, she was still beautiful with her sharp blue eyes. “Your sister is well. The doctor said she only needs rest to recover.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Licht relaxed and stroked her horse’s mane. “Thank you for taking care of my sister and offering to help my horse. I want to see Mahiru right away.”

“I’ll walk you to the guest room where she’s sleeping.” He nodded. Hyde wanted to ask why she appeared so upset earlier but he didn’t know if it was his place to do so. He changed the subject and said, “I’ll have the staff prepare a towel and warm tea for you. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold as well. Anyways, I owe you a dress after I ruined the one you wore to the ball.”

“You’re housing my sister while she’s sick. We can consider ourselves even.” She said and looked up at him. He held his jacket over her head and she felt surrounded by warmth.

[razorblade180]

Father’s Day

[Lasting embers au]

Jael is sleeping soundly in her bed until she feels something putting pressure on her arm. Slowly she stirs awake to Adam by her bed in his typical disguise. His hair laid down and temporarily dyed black, tented shades for the scar, and more pedestrian clothing. Jael carefully rubbed her eyes. It was nighttime judging by the light in her room.

Jael:Dad? I didn’t know you were coming home so soon. How was the mission?

Adam:Nothing worth talking about. It’s passed midnight, happy Father’s Day.

Jael:...I think you have this backwards.

Adam:Hehe, little bit but for good reason. Get dressed we’re leaving Menagerie.

Jael:...WH-*mouth covered*

Adam:Ssshh, your mother doesn’t know; I’ll apologize later. I already visited Sienna at her boot camp so don’t worry about you hogging me for the day.

Jael:Where are we going? And how exactly does this count as me giving you a present?

Adam:I get to spend time with my fourteen year old daughter doing something new.

He could see the happiness in her eyes when he said those words. Jael really was simple girl. All she ever wanted was time with him and he felt the same. She hopped out of bed and gently floated down. Jael wasn’t sure what he had planned but getting to leave Menagerie was enough. Finally, a chance to see the outside world.

Several hours have passed since they snuck out. Jael dozed in and out of sleep while on the ride in the airship, barely remembering it. Only that leaning on her father was strangly comfortable and Neo was flying the airship.

Now she rested on his back while he and Neo jumped from rooftop to rooftop in what looked to be Vacou from what books told her about the place. Jael wanted to walk around but apparently Adam didn’t want her to see the chattering streets yet.

Jael:Still haven’t explained why we are here. Not that I’m complaining.

Neo:Patience, baby goat. The sun will rise any minute now. Also you have me to thank for telling your father about this event.

Jael:Event?

Adam:Father’s day falls on a special day this year for Vacou. When Neo told me about it I knew I had to bring you. This spot should do.

He bent down to let Jael get off then got behind her. She’d be lying if she said her curiosity was running rapid; he seemed proud of himself by the way he spoke. Slowly he adjusted her to a spot that overlooked everything but it was still a little too dark to see.

Then...sunrise hit. Light slowly grew over the land and what couldn’t be seen before quickly became visible, leaving Jael speechless. The buildings, the people, the very sand, it was all bathed in color. Multiple colors that belonged on a spectrum she had told him she was apart of a few months prior. Jael was looking at a huge Pride Parade.

Her gaze on it was finally broken when she felt weight of something draped over her. Jael could barely hold back her tears as she wrapped the flag around her tighter and turned around to see Adam smiling and Neo putting on face paint; the bisexual colors if Jael remembered correctly.

Jael:I...I don’t know what say right now.

Adam:A few months ago you came to me terrified, not sure what I would think if you told me you were lesbian. Remember what I said?

Jael:You were happy you didn’t have scare any boy?

Neo:Oh my god.

Adam:Okay, I did say that, but after I said...

Jael:*smiles* Your love for me as my father is on every spectrum.

Adam:No you know how serious those words are. I love you.

He opened his arms and Jael quickly ran to be embraced by them, happily shedding her tears of joy. Definitely not a conventional Father’s Day gift, but it’s the best one yet.

xxxx

Ren was having a calm morning. For the pass two weeks Nora and Tenzen had been gone on some camping trip so his days had been quiet. A little lonely but he could handle it. He knew today they’d be back. They didn’t say they would but if he knew his family...

Nora:*opens door* We’re home!

16 yo Tenzen:Yeah!!! Happy Father’s Day!

No way they would miss today. Both of them were dirty, unusually dirty. Specially their hands and knees seemed extra worn out.

Ren:You two okay? You both could’ve washed up before rushing back. Honestly it wouldn’t have bothered me if you came back halfway through the day.

Nora:Don’t worry about us. Nothing is too much when it comes to spoiling you.

Tenzen:She’s right, we’d move mountains for you. Or in this case...rubble.

Ren looked confused by Tenzen’s words. The boy reached into his bag and pulled out a wrapped present to hand to his father. It was small and rectangular; too thin to be a book Ren thought. He unwrapped it gently and gasped when the paper was finally removed. Tears instantly came from him.

Nora and a Tenzen took the opportunity to stand on each side of him and hug tightly. They smelled like the great outdoors but he didn’t care. Why would he when they had just given him a picture of his mother and father holding a infant version of himself. All that rubble that must’ve buried it, and it remained okay. He took ahold of their tired hands and held them close to his chest.

Ren:Thank you...

Tenzen:Like mom said...

Nora:Nothing will ever be too much.

xxxx

Jaune was having his own emotional moment. It wasn’t unlike Yujin to try and do something creative but this time, she went big.

Currently he stood on his porch and stared at the fifteen year old girl who wore her ‘Proof Jaune Arc Got Laid” t-shirt like she did every year, but that wasn’t the amazing part. What had him speechless was the dozens of family members that stood behind her. Yujin managed to get them all the way to patch.

Jaune:Wh..what’s all this about?

Yujin:I had them all show up so you couldn’t dispute what I’m about to say. Dad, Jaune Arc, I owe you so much. Yes it takes a villages to raise a kid and I know you had plenty of help but that doesn’t change that you were always in my corner. Me, the girl who refused to open up to you sometimes; who truly deserved strong lecturers for her attitude instead of the hugs you decided to give. Every single day you gave me so much love and affection above what I thought possible in order to make up for mom. All the kisses, hugs, late night talks, t-tears....

Her voice started choking up and her eyes began to water as she kept speaking.

Yujin:When I was at my lowest and filled with anger you never lost your patience with me. Instead you made sure I continued to eat and gave me space to go through it all. Then the moment I called for you, there you were, by my side ready to talk. Almost sixteen years of living in that house filled with love has gone by and I just need you to know that even as I get older, act like I might have everything figured out, and go off to Beacon soon thanks to your training. I’m always going to be your little girl and I love you from the very bottom of my heart. So can you please shut me up right now and hug me.

Jaune:*sniffling*You can run over here anytime.

Yujin ran up the porch steps and gave Jaune the biggest hug she’s ever given, crying ever so slightly as he rubbed the back of her head. He could hear the clapping and tears from his many family members, but noticed one thing. No Tai. He felt a sudden surge of warmth as he saw through his watery eyes the main in question through the trees, hugging his own daughters who should be hundreds of miles away.

As if by instinct, both girls looked in his direction, also emotional. He knew they couldn’t stay. That Raven most likely opened a portal so they can have a moment with Tai who would’ve been sad not seeing them. Yang looked at him lovingly as she watched him hold their daughter. “I love you” could be easily read from her lips and smile on her face as he mouthed it back. Then, they left. He thought it best not to tell Yujin. He knew Yang would eventually be able to come home, that Yujin would see her mother again. Until then, he’d continue giving his daughter enough love to make up the difference.

Jaune:Yujin, thank you for being my daughter. I know your mother would say the same.

[Twin Snowflakes au]

Valerie:Hey dad, I need your opinion on something. Can you come in the living room for a second?

Ren:Sure thing. What’s-

Right in in the middle of the room were two game pads and Valerie in baggy shorts and a green tank top. Ren looked at the tv flashing DDR in neon colors.

Valerie:So I was in town and found this game store selling this pretty old game. Apparently on two player it’s supposed to be really fun and competitive so I got to thinking.... I bet dad wouldn’t mind a few rounds.

Ren:Nora has been talking about the old days again?

Valerie:Perhaps, so, think you can show your daughter a thing or two? The apple might not far too fall from the tree. Happy Father’s Day.

Ren:*smiles* Don’t cry when I blow you out of the water. Loser pays for dinner.

Valerie:You’re on.

xxxx

Qrow quietly reads a book at the dining room table like usual during lunch time when suddenly, he feels eyes on him. He puts the book down to see Winter and Sparrow quietly sitting down at the table with their own books. The only difference is the fancy glasses have been placed by each of them, along with a bottle in Sparrows hand.

Qrow:Is that....?

Sparrow:A bottle of the most expensive rum, made only in Salem’s previous territory? Why yes it is.

Winter:The same rum that can only be acquired after slaying countless grimm. Now I know I typically discourage you from spirits and don’t drink myself, but Sparrow is twenty one and did all of this for you. I think that deserves a toast.

Sparrow:Happy Father’s Day pops. Cheers!

Qrow looked at two pour him a glass before raising there’s with excitement. Was getting to drink with him this exciting? He couldn’t help but feel flattered and raised his as well with renewed vigor. A drink with family, now that sounded pretty nice.

Qrow:Cheers!

xxxx

Breakfast was in the air at the Schnee Manor. It might’ve been his special day but that didn’t n make anybody suddenly a cooking genius so Jaune was flipping the pancakes like usual. Weiss and Summer were a little red with embarrassment as they shifted around in their Pumpkin Pete onesies he had gotten them years ago.

Jaune:You know you don’t have to wear those every year right?

Weiss:You can’t say that when you smile really big whenever you see us in it.

Summer:We’ll stop when you stop caring, so never.

Jaune:That’s a present all by itself.

Summer:Well prepare for two more. I got something for my number one fan and teacher.

Weiss went around the corner and pulled out a white and yellow electric guitar with his symbol on it. Jaune nearly flipped the pancake too high, he was actually shocked. If she bought that then it meant one thing...

Summer:Let’s go around performing for people and putting smiles on faces today. A father and daughter duet!

Jaune:If this is the first present then what could possibly be the second one?

Weiss:Months ago your kids helped raise some extra money for Argus and Vale. Now Remnant has two Pyrrha statues, both in beautiful condition.

Jaune could feel his heart swell up. Weiss walked over and turned off the burner while he processed that info. A smile came across his face as he hugged both of his lovely women tightly.

Summer:Happy Father’s Day. Nick-

Jaune:He told me earlier before he left. I’m proud of what he’s doing.

Weiss:Summer, why don’t you go wash up and get dressed so you’ll be ready to go after breakfast.

Summer:Sweet! I can take this off. Love you dad! *runs off*

Jaune:Today is a good day.

Weiss:It gets better. You actually have three presents.

Her face turns a brighter red as she grabs ahold of his, making him tug on the zipper slightly. Jaune nearly chokes on his own breath as he discovers Weiss is only wearing the onesie. He regains composer and teasingly makes her yelp by slipping his hand though.

Weiss:*crimson* Happy...Daddy’s Day...

Jaune:....*puts her on the counter*

Weiss:Jaune there is food out!

Jaune:I’ll make more...

xxxx

At there other estate, Nick warmly embraces Whitley while clutching gifts he didn’t even get the chance to give yet. The older man can only hug him tighter and hold some tears.

Whitley:This means more than you can imagine.

Nick:As far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been a second dad instead of an uncle. Happy Father’s Day.

[Premonition]

Lucas sat silently on the the Belladonna steps watching the crescent moon. The cool air making its way from the sea brushed passed his face and put the boy at ease. Moment’s later he heard approaching footsteps get louder before stopping next to him, his caring father took a seat.

Jaune:Waiting for Blake to get back from her meeting?

Lucas:Nah, I needed fresh air. You always get antsy whenever I step aside.

Jaune:It’s a miracle every time I can get you off the couch and into town. Let me guess, you knew I’d come to you if you walked outside.

Lucas:Yep, all part of my master play.

Jaune:To what?

Lucas:Tell you Happy Father’s Day. You know I’m not really good at this sort thing but... here.

He lifted up a small bag by his feet and gave it Jaune. The knight grabbed the bag and instantly let out a chuckle the moment he felt the box. He wasted no time pulling out the cereal box that honestly surprised him on closer expectation. Jaune Arc....was on the box, he was on the box!

Lucas:I may have told mom how crazy it was that a hero like yourself wasn’t on his favorite cereal box and got a good petition going around. Pretty cool huh?

Jaune:You...I...what!? Hell yeah it’s cool! Honestly I thought the plan was stargazing and that would’ve been fine.

Lucas:So why not both? Cereal and stargazing.

Jaune:I say...I’ll go grab the milk.

Lucas:I’ll get two bowls.

Blake:Make it three!

The two gentlemen looked down to see Blake walking up the steps. Jaune quickly walked down and gave her a thank you kiss.

Blake:I wouldn’t mind eating the “breakfast of champions” right now. Especially with that hero on the box.

Jaune:Aww you spoil me.

Lucas:Hehe, three bowls it is.

[Rosebud]

Jaune: That was dangerous!

Carmine:I know.

Jaune:You could’ve been killed!

Carmine:But I wasn’t!

The two have been liked this for hours. They had gone on a mission together where the point was to evacuate a village under attack. All lives successfully saved fortunately, but it was a close call.

In a lapse of judgement, Carmine had abandoned the her responsibilities to help Jaune with a Goliath that gave him trouble and she had gotten work hurt in the process. If it weren’t for his semblance, she’s sure her ribs would be broken right now.

Ruby had managed to calm them both down and split them up, Carmine opting to go outside. This should be the last day to be arguing. Jaune sat quietly at the table and watched Ruby get closer to hold his hand.

Jaune:She could’ve been killed...

Ruby:Yeah but from the sound of it, losing you today was possible as well. In either scenario, I would’ve been devastated.

Jaune:What’s a greater loss?

Ruby:Don’t even try to put that on a set of scales. Everyday we look at her and worry but I’m not gonna pretend Carmine and I don’t hold our breath when we see you endanger as well; don’t act like you don’t do it for me.

Jaune:...

Ruby:Sometimes our nerves get the better of us. We know that all of us can handle things but yet we find ourselves calling out to each other while rushing in. I don’t she’ll ever say it but... I’m sure she’s scared sometimes. She’s sixteen after all.

Jaune:Yeah, sometimes I forget that. She used to fit in my hands for crying out loud. Taking her on missions is still a little unnerving.

Ruby:Give her time. I’m sure-

The door opened and caught their attention. They hadn’t realized Carmine took Garnet outside too. The adorable four year old excitedly pointed outside. Ruby rushing over before he tired himself out.

Suddenly she alone started pointing and looked amazed. Jaune was left no choice but to take a look, he glad he did. The front yard was filled with white and yellow roses shaped in the Arc crest. Carmine was kneeling in middle of her work tired and with her sword stabbed in the ground.

Carmine:Do you remember...when you I asked you how to be a knight all those years ago?

Jaune:I do. I said, I said I wasn’t sure. That I never really thought of myself as a good example of one.

Carmine:I’ve thought about that a lot recently. You gave me such an unexpected answer. How could you not know when I’ve seen you been so kind. The way you fight for us, your loyalty to your family, empathy, wisdom, courage; I saw it all. Then I realized, maybe I was really asking how I could be more like you?

Jaune:...

Carmine:We’re different. Our thought process, opinions, etc. I’m beginning to think maybe I can never hold those qualities like you. Which really...frustrates me. Because dad, you are my ideal knight! I know I messed up and-

He walked towards her, unsheathing his sword on the way. Jaune stared at his visibly tired daughter. How often did he see this strong and capable fighter express her woes so freely? Ruby was right, he must’ve really scared her. Jaune lifted his sword and tapped it on each of her shoulders.

Jaune:Carmine...were you scared today? Of losing me?

Carmine:What kind of question is that?

Tears ran down her face. Jaune knelt down and captured her in a hug.

Jaune:I’m sorry...

Carmine:I’m sorry too. Dad I...I love you okay? So please, don’t scare me like that and I won’t scare you. Deal?

Jaune:It’s a deal. And don’t worry about being like me. I do what can do, so you can be like yourself. I know it’ll be just as great.

Ruby held Garnet close and watched two of the most stubborn people on her life hug it out. As far as she was concerned, they were both perfect, as knights or otherwise. They cared about each other. What could be more perfect than that.

[thecleverdame]

The Oath - 6

Parings: Dark!Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Story Master List

Summary: After an unsuccessful escape attempt, the reader finds herself taken as a spoil of war. She ends up in the bed of a ruthless Alpha, the son of John Winchester, leader of the kingdom of Gilead. She struggles to conceal her true identity and navigate a society where being an Omega means nothing more than serving at the pleasure of powerful men.

Warnings: non-con, sexual assault, rape, attempted suicide, sexual slavery, branding, torture, ownership, voyeurism, anal play, smut, violence, and murder.

Sam is dark in this story. If any of the warnings are triggers for you, I would suggest skipping this one. Please read and heed all the warnings.

Beta: ilikaicalie

Support my Patreon and get access to exclusive stories.  CLICK HERE

-

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into a month. Time passes and you fall into a rhythm that’s at the very least predictable. Your situation is not as terrifying when you know what’s coming next. Days are spent on the trail, the entire regiment moving south toward the border of Gilead and Argos. It’s slow-moving. You’re not sure how far you travel each day but it can’t be more than a dozen miles, give or take. The snow slows everything, the men freeze and the carts and carriages are continually stuck, having to be dug out again and again. 

The nights are just as routine. Sam’s expectations are clear and you find it’s easier and easier to give yourself to him. Opening your legs and closing your eyes as he takes pleasure for himself, forcing that same pleasure onto you even when you beg him to stop. 

You’ve grown emotionally numb to all of it. Compartmentalizing feelings is a coping skill you learned as a child, and you put this skillset to use as your time with the Winchesters goes on.  

Being with Sam brings an innate sense of safety. You’re his, everyone knows it, there’s not a man in the regiment that would entertain the thought of laying a hand on you. While he’s certainly not gentle, he does seem to take pride in making sure you always get what you need, before and after he’s had his way with you. His main concern is keeping you in pristine condition.

You’ve become accustomed to a certain level of care as this mighty caravan moves through the countryside. 

It’s the same routine each night. As soon as the tents are erected, the servants pour you a bath, wash your skin and hair. You’re served sweet fruits before dinner and there’s always plenty of wine and other libations at the ready. By the time the Winchester brothers arrive for the evening meal, you’re typically well into this choreographed nightly ritual. 

Tonight they’re nowhere to be found. You’re alone as the night wears on. Dinner is served and you eat alone, then sit by the fire looking around at the vast array of belongings. They carry a whole life with them on the road. 

There’s a map spread out over the table that is reset daily by the cartographer, whose sole job is to ensure the troop’s movements are accurately represented. You study the markers, sorting out who’s who. John Winchester's men are everywhere, spread far and wide across the entire continent. You didn’t realize they had conquered so extensively. News from distant lands had stopped coming in nearly a year ago. You knew it was bad but you had no clue the scope of their domination. 

Half the map is swathed in red, indicating they’ve successfully overtaken each area. You search from top to bottom until you find your family’s colors, the blue and red of the all too familiar crest. Your father is still fighting, and it looks as if he’s joined up with several different kingdoms. They’re amassing to the south, it must be where Sam and Dean are headed. 

Your heart skips a beat. Up until this point you’ve done a good job keeping thoughts of your family at bay. You do everything within your power to avoid letting the memories of your former home whirl to life, it’s too painful. But this sparks something, an inkling stirring in the back of your brain. A meager seed of hope. 

Sam, Dean and the soldiers are heading right for your father’s army. Your hands shake, trembling with a surging anxiety. What this means, you have no idea. You know the chance of ever seeing your father, uncle or sisters again is nearly nonexistent. And even if by some miracle you were able to get to him, it’s unlikely you’d be welcomed back into the fold. You’ve been defiled by a Winchester. How could anyone overlook the shame you would bring on every member of the royal family? 

Turning attention back to the map, you trail a finger up the winding blue line of the Longtree River, moving further and further north until you find your current location. 

A solid blue marker is labeled as Sam and Dean and to the west is a massive legion of men under their father’s crest. John Winchester. It looks like you may get the chance to meet the man who started all this death and destruction. There are smaller pockets of resistance outlying around the edges and you lean in closer to get a better look. 

“What are you doing?” Sam booms, standing just inside the tent. 

“I was just,” you back away from the table as the Alpha makes a beeline for you. “I’m sorry I was just looking. I-” Your voice is cut off as his hand wraps around your neck, squeezing tight. 

“What were you looking for?” he hisses, pushing you backward, his gripping tightening. You sputter, gasping for air and pulling at his hand with your one working arm. 

“P-please,” you rasp, mouth gaping open like a fish on dry land. “I-I-”

“What?” His jaw is tight, anger brimming in his eyes. You’ve yet to see this side of him, but now you understand the rumors. Another minute of this and he’ll squeeze the very life right out of you. 

“Huhh,” you make a strangled sound, eyes rolling back in your skull as he lets go, gripping your jaw instead, forcing you to look at him. “I-I was just l-looking at the figures. I watched the man set them up,” you whisper. “I wondered what they were.” Tears fall down your cheeks as you shake in terror. 

You’ve become complacent. Perhaps this is the reminder you needed. Sam Winchester is a murderer and a tyrant. And he’ll kill you just as easily as fuck you. 

“What are they?” he asks, face inches away, his nose scrunching in anger. “Tell me, what did you find Omega?”

“I don’t know!” You cry out the first of many lies in hopes of abating his wrath. You search your brain, a simple village girl wouldn’t know how to read the labels on the map, much less battle markers. “I was just looking at the figurines and the drawings on the paper. I’m sorry if I saw something I shouldn’t have!” 

“This is not for you!” He turns your head toward the table, pointing with his other hand. “You need to know your place. You don’t see. You don’t hear. You just are. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically. 

His anger is logical. This information is invaluable. If a person wanted to subvert the Winchester cause this map would do the most damage. If you were in fact a spy, this would be the holy grail of information. You should have been more careful. 

“I didn’t know. I’ll do better, Alpha.” He lets you go and you slink backward, holding your throat. 

“I don’t give second warnings. Tread carefully, Omega.”

“I will, I promise.” You watch as he pours himself a drink and takes a seat at the table as if the whole encounter has drained him. Legs give way as you sink to the floor. Tomorrow there will likely be a handprint in black and blue across your throat. You’ve felt his strength before, but this is a wake-up call. You can’t become comfortable. Sam would snap your neck without a second thought if you gave him a reason. 

When you look up he’s watching you, his face now indifferent. He sighs, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his legs. What rage overtook him is gone just as fast as it came. 

“You are not allowed to look at the maps,” he explains calmly. “No maps, no books, no letters you may come across. And you never repeat a word you hear between Dean and me.”

“I understand...but I can’t read.” Books have been one of the great loves of your life, but Sam doesn’t need to know that. 

“Good, less temptation to be curious.” He stares at you a moment longer before downing the rest of his wine and pouring more. There’s a shout in the distance and Sam smiles, pointing at you. “Get yourself up. We have a guest.”

You manage to get to your feet just in time for Dean and the woman trailing him. There’s a clanking of metal and you look at the chain around her left ankle. She’s an Omega, you can smell her instantly. She’s a few years younger than you, but old enough that her scent is sickeningly strong. She looks around wildly from both Alphas to you. 

Dean’s brought back women before. Always Betas, never for more than an hour and definitely not in chains. 

“Brought you a friend,” Dean chuckles, winking at you. He takes the end of the chain and secures it around one of the thick poles holding up the tent, before clicking the heavy lock shut. “Gotta be careful with this one. She’s a runner.” 

“So was she.” Sam grunts in your direction as you stand frozen, still reeling from his assault. 

“You see what happens?” Dean places a hand at the back of the girl’s neck, both of them looking at you. She looks more angry than scared, an indication she doesn’t understand where she is. She should be pissing herself. “Don’t make me break your arm like hers.”

You’re the cautionary tale. The example to keep her in check. 

“One of your countrymen.” Dean goes on, appraising her from head to toe. 

You suck in a breath at the thought. She doesn’t know who you are. Few commoners had the occasion to see you for more than a few minutes during a parade through town and even less would recognize you now. But there’s no sense in tempting fate. Nothing good can come of familiarity. The moment you open your mouth you could say something that might cast doubt on the backstory you’ve created. 

You look from her to Sam, taking a step closer to your Alpha. 

“You see how good she is?” Dean explains. “You’d do well to follow her example.” 

“I thought you were riding ahead to the scout camp?” Sam asks, picking a hunk of bread off the table.

“I am. I’ll be back in a few hours. I can’t take her with me, can I?” Dean cocks his head, checking his flash before nodding to the new Omega. “Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

Sam is about to protest, but before he has the chance Dean is gone. Sam moves on as if this is nothing out of the ordinary. 

“You’re there.” Sam points to Dean’s bed. “Stay quiet. No talking. I don’t want to know you’re here.”

“Let me go,” she grits out, anger seeping from her pores. You snap to attention waiting for his reaction. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” Sam snuffs out one torch after the next until the fire is the only light in the tent. “Lay down, shut your mouth and be quiet. You’ll sleep if you’re smart.”

“I’ll kill you both!” She yanks at the chain attached to her leg, glaring at Sam. 

“You should do what he says.” You speak up, offering advice you hope will keep her alive. “Stop talking and lay down.” 

Her eyes go wild, staring at you in surprise. 

Sam tugs at the back of your dress, pulling at the ties until you’re able to step out. You can feel her watching from across the room. Hidden in the shadows of Dean’s bed, she’s about to understand exactly what’s expected from her. 

Sam is already stark naked, the muscles of his back flexing as he pulls back the cover on the bed. 

“In,” he gestures. 

You lay down on your back as he slides in beside you. A hand comes down on your belly and you flinch, looking up at him in horror at your reaction. 

“I scared you, little bird.” He rubs his palm over your naked hip. His eyes fall to your neck, bruises already forming. 

“You hurt me,” you whisper back. “I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to look. You could have just told me. I always follow your rules.”

“Yes, you do.” His hand moves upward, tracing the underside of your breast. “And now you’ll know next time. Do you know what the penalty for an Omega caught reading is?”

“No,” you whisper, scared of the answer. “What?”

“Your eyes. Both of them plucked out.” His thumb brushes over your nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. 

“But I couldn’t even read it,” you reiterate, yet again. 

“It doesn’t matter. If anyone else found you inspecting that map, you’d be blind for the rest of your life. I wouldn’t have any say in it.”

“Oh,” you’re silent as he rubs the pad of his thumb over the hard peak of your nipple, swirling in small circles. 

“Lucky for you, I believe in my own brand of discipline. Don’t let me catch you again. Are we clear?” He waits for you to nod in confirmation. “Good. Now turn onto your stomach.” 

[datleggy]

I enjoy sending you prompts. I hope it’s ok that I’ve spammed you today ahaaaa. What about a firefam adventure to LA Pride? 🥺 would they be there to rep the LAFD in the parade? Or for fun? Sometimes when I wanna make myself go 🥺 I think about Athena & Bobby giving out mom and dad hugs 😭*cries in pansexual*

late drabble reply :) thanku for the prompt <33

this turned into a (shockingly cathartic---for me anyway) accidental coming out drabble and i have zero regrets (happy ending of course)

tw: homophobia, tw: abuse, tw: shitty buckley parents

-------

Buck isn’t on shift that weekend, which is why, he tells himself later, he never bothered to check the work schedule. Or else he’d have known that the 118 would be the ones on duty to put out any “fires” that might arise at LA’s Pride Parade this year.

He knows Hen isn’t going this year because Karen’s out of town with Denny visiting her mom, and they normally go together, so Buck shakes off his anxieties over seeing someone that might recognize him and finally accepts Michael’s invite.

It’s a nice sunny day, so Buck wears a pair of pink light joggers, his white converse, and a white, short sleeved tee with a rainbow on the front. Michael laughs when he asks “Is this too much?”

“Buck, trust me, if anything, you’re overdressed.” Michael sees the uncertain look on his friends face and frowns sympathetically. He knows the feeling. “Hey, look at me,” he puts a steady hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I know it’s scary at first, but I’m here, you’ve got me, alright?”

Michael’s presence alone is reassurance enough, and Buck lets the older man lead him into the crowd and introduce him to some friends of his.

It’s incredible. Everyone is in fun and colorful outfits, there are streamers and glitter and body paint, people holding signs, holding hands, dancing, laughing, smiling---Buck doesn’t know exactly what to call this feeling he’s experiencing, but he knows he likes it. A lot.

He’s having an amazing time, his face now covered in face paint, a pink feather boa around his neck, and so much glitter on his shoes he’s not sure he’ll ever get all of it out, when he hears a very familiar voice call his name. He freezes.

“Buck?” Bobby calls a second time, coming closer.

Buck turns around, his heart dropping to his stomach. “Oh uh, hey, um, w-what’re you doing here?” he stutters, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants when he notices Hen, Chim and Eddie walking over, too. Shit.

“We’re on tent duty over there.” He points to the Med tents nearby.

Michael comes back from getting them waters and immediately swoops in for the rescue. “Bobby, that you? Your team working the tent today, huh?”

Bobby greets Michael with a warm smile. “Yeah, is this your first Pride?” he asks, curious. He knows Michael only recently came out in the last couple of years.

Michael shakes his head. “Second, actually. But it’s my first one since my breakup with Glenn,” he shrugs, “So I invited Buck as an ally to tag along.”

Buck nods, holding himself perfectly still beside Michael, grateful as all hell for the support. An ally. Duh. How did he not think to say that?

Bobby looks a little sad but fixes his expression quickly, faking a smile. “That’s nice. We were just taking a little break, but we should start heading back to the tents.” he nods at the two. “Have fun.”

Michael nods, waving goodbye as the team start to walk off.

Hen stays behind a moment and looks at Buck, who still looks like a deer caught in headlights. She doesn’t say anything, she knows words probably won’t suffice in this case. Instead Hen steps forward and wraps her arms around Buck, tight. When she pulls away Buck’s eyes are bright with tears he refuses to let the light of day see and she feels a tug on her heart strings. “See you later, Buckaroo.” she runs back to the tents afterward, not entirely prepared for all the questions.

“Why wouldn’t he tell us?” Chimney wonders, pacing the tent.

Hen rolls her eyes. “Well it’s not any of our business.”

Eddie folds his arms over his chest. “I’m his best friend.” he’s pouting, and he knows it, but he really didn’t think they kept any secrets between them.

Bobby purses his lips. “Michael said he invited him as an ally---we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”

Hen nods in agreement. “Exactly.”

“Do you think Maddie knows? I mean, if he is.” Chim mulls it over. “Oh shit, did I ever say anything offensive that might’ve---”

Hen raises an eyebrow at him, “If you ever did you already know I’d have kicked your ass two times over.”

It’s in that moment that Buck chooses to step into the tent, somehow managing to make himself look small, the way he’s standing. He’s washed the face paint off, shaken away the glitter, and the fuzzy boa is nowhere to be seen.

“Buck,” Bobby stands up, concerned, “You alright?” He looks pale.

Buck bites his bottom lip. “I’m not here because I’m an ally, I’m here because I’m bi or pan, or,” he shrugs, “I don’t really know, but I’m not straight. And um, look, the only reason I didn’t say anything is because I grew up in kind of a small town and when I told my parents they didn’t take it well, they’re really religious and they didn’t want the neighbors or anybody at church to talk.” he doesn’t tell them about the way they treated him after he came out, and he certainly doesn’t talk about what his dad did to him when he caught Buck out in the barn making out with Marc Jacobs from the hockey team, at age fifteen.

“I knew you guys wouldn’t care, but I just---” Buck looks down. “I didn’t want to risk it. I’m sorry.”

Bobby looks sad again, and he is, for a lot of reasons. “Son, don’t be sorry. I’m so so proud of the person you are Buck, and I hope you are too.” he moves forward and opens his arms. “C’mere.”

Buck hesitates only half a second before he practically throws himself into the Captain’s waiting embrace, knocking some of the breath out of Bobby, but Bobby doesn’t care. He holds Buck as if he were his own, and when Buck buries his face into Bobby’s neck and sniffles, his shoulders shaking slightly, the rest of the crew join in.

They surround Buck on all sides, with love and affection, understanding and acceptance. This is his family and now they know, and they still love him, and that is something so new and foreign to Buck that he can’t help but cry.

“We’ve got you.” Eddie tells him.

[toast-the-unknowing]

do u have some random headcanons for your foster care adam verse/childhood friends verse, that you'll like to share with us? if you want to of course, i just think that's your most potentially teen drama fic you have ever written, and i say that not in a bad way, i just think it's such a fun and comforting au :')

In sixth grade, they start middle school, and Adam gets bumped up a grade in math. He ends up in the same class as Declan and develops one of those awkward kid crushes you only realize is a crush years later. Ronan bugs Adam to finally get Debbie and Bill's permission to have Blue sleepover, so they all end up hanging out at his house more and at the Lynch house less. It does not occur to Adam that these two facts might be related.

In seventh grade Adam's adoption goes through. Adam continues to call Debbie and Bill by their first names; he thinks that they'd like it if he called them mom and dad, but they never actually say anything about it. It just feels too much like lying, to Adam, like pretending that nothing his parents did to him ever happened, and anyway, those aren’t good words to him.

In eighth grade, Blue and Ronan's running competition for who will get the bigger role in the school play backfires when they are cast as the two romantic leads of the spring show. Adam laughs at them a whole lot to distract himself from the weird emotions that he gets watching them hold hands and pretend to be in love. They stop acting after that show and go into the tech crew instead, which both Ronan and Blue claim was THEIR idea.

Freshman year, someone makes a joke about Blue having two boyfriends. She's not really surprised -- the jokes aren't new, although they're getting grosser and more uncomfortable as she gets older -- but she's kind of surprised about how pissed off Ronan gets. It's late enough at night that Adam (who has the earliest curfew) is already home and isn't around to be the voice of reason. They commit some light vandalism in revenge and then go grab ice cream to celebrate. Blue asks Ronan why it bugs him when people insult her. The answer is at least half that she's his friend okay, Jesus, what is he supposed to do, just let people talk about her like that; but instead of saying that what Ronan actually does is blurt out all of his feelings about Adam in the middle of a Dairy Queen at eleven o'clock at night. Blue's verdict: they are definitely going to need more blizzards to deal with this.

Sophomore year, Ronan's dad dies. Ronan doesn't handle it well. Adam gets worried about him one night when Ronan stops responding to his texts, and he sneaks out to find him and make sure he's okay. The next morning Adam isn't at school. Ronan feels like shit on top of everything else for getting Adam into trouble, until Adam shows up after lunch; Debbie and Bill let him sleep in since he was out so late, and then they wanted to make an appointment for him with his social worker, in case he needed to talk to someone about what he’s going through. He is super grounded, though. Blue takes over "make sure Ronan doesn't do anything stupid" duty. She doesn't to let him get away with anything.

Junior year, Adam and Ronan start dating. The getting together part is easier than Ronan had ever expected, and the dating part is everything he ever wanted; the hard part, the part that he hadn't really thought about, is keeping it secret. He wants to tell everyone: classmates, teachers, random people walking down the street, and yeah, his mom, why wouldn't he want her to know something so important about his life? But Adam isn't ready to; the first time they really talk about it he tells Ronan if your mom freaks out about it she can't send you back, which doesn't even make sense -- Bill and Debbie are super chill, for old people, plus they're those parents that volunteer for every field trip and shit, plus Adam is adopted so where the hell would they even send him to -- but Ronan doesn't have to get it to get that it's what Adam needs. So he keeps it a secret. Even though it's so fucking hard. The only person he gets to talk to about Adam is Blue, who is sick. to. death. of hearing him, quote, "writing the sappiest romance novel of all time, seriously, I'm gonna hurl," close quote.

(Adam's eventual coming out to Bill and Debbie goes just fine; they're kind of awkward but very supportive for him and they tell him that they love him and that "we always thought Ronan was a nice young man." There's at least one (1) Pride parade where they are very earnest and very embarrassing and Blue has zero sympathy for that, either, because seriously Adam you went to Pride with your parents, what did you think would happen?)

Senior year is weird, for Blue. She's happy for Adam and Ronan, obviously she's happy, that's what you are when your two best friends are happy, is happy. It's just that the three of them were always the three of them, and now a lot of the time Adam and Ronan hang out just the two of them and Blue's just...Blue. There's nothing to do about it, though, no one thing, so she does a little bit of a lot of things to see what helps. Dating doesn't -- Adam and Ronan have found the only two decent teenage boys in town, each other, and after a few attempts she gives up in disgust. She goes to a lot of parties for a while and turns out to have a terrifying aptitude for flip cup, but that's just all the same people she doesn't want to date and doesn't want to hang out with at school, and being around more people doesn't actually make her feel less alone. She tries some new clubs and new electives, likes shop a lot more than she expected, likes art a lot less than she expected, although some of the art kids aren't so bad. She sinks a lot of time into her college applications, all the same state schools that Adam's applying to, a bunch of West Coast schools that he isn't. She doesn't say anything about it to him; she's probably not going to get in and she can't afford it without a bunch of scholarships anyway, so there's no real point in hurting anyone's feelings. Just, if she's on her own, she wants to have things that are her own. She can have that and have Adam, who still lends her all his favorite books so they can talk about them, and gets a job at the same restaurant she does when she complains about how boring her shifts are, and comes over to watch readings and seances at her house, half-skeptical and half-enthralled. She can have that and have Ronan, who still gives her rides to absolutely anywhere she needs to go no matter how far it is, and goes thrift store diving with her for things that might make good costumes for the theater department even though every single opinion he has about clothes is WRONG, and texts her to tell her every time he goes to the bathroom, like that's something anyone wants to know. They're still the three of them, even if they have to rearrange things a little bit, and Ronan and Adam are still the people she shares everything with. When she gets pissed off her first day of classes in Berkeley, they're the first people she texts, you will not BELIEVE this jerk in my history discussion, he tried to pay me to be in his study group and they immediately support her -- or, Adam does; Ronan texts how much? but that's what support looks like, from Ronan. That's what she wants, for all of them, and she's happy, she's really, really happy.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 5)

The little girl giggles as she watches Azula tug at the turnip and topple over when the leaves come free without the vegetable itself. She lands with a soft thud and an off. Her cheeks burn to a degree that would make her fire feel cool.

The man laughs, “no, no, you do it like this.”

Azula sticks her lower lip out and folds her arms over her chest.

“You gotta take it by the base, if you just pull from the leaves then you’ll just get a fist full of leaves. I mean unless you get lucky. But let's not test our luck because that just makes it harder.” He approaches a new turnip and grips it as close to the vegetable as possible and then gives it a pull. It comes free, dirt shaking from the roots. He brushes it off and tosses it into a wheelbarrow. “Sometimes, if it’s really stubborn, you have to dig around it a little.”

Azula looks at her hands and furrows her brows. She has yet to get dirt under her fingernails and that is not part of her plan.

He laughs again, “yeah, you’re going to have to get them dirty.”

“I don’t mind getting them dirty. I just don’t want to have to dig dirt out from under my nails.”

“In other words, you don’t want to get them dirty.”

Her eyes narrow. “I don’t have to do this, you know.”

“You do if ya want old man Ojihara to pay you.”

Her pout only grows. She opens her mouth but he beats her to it. “And I’m not going to do your share for you.”

She holds her glare as she wraps her fingers around the leaves and gives the turnip a hard yank. It jerks free to reveal the most pathetically small turnip that has ever been harvested. With a sharp inhale through her nose, she chucks it into the wheelbarrow. The man laughs, “I guess that, that’s a good start.”

“Sure, whatever.” She grumbles.

“I ken eat that ‘tur’ip, it’s me size.” The little girl calls from her perch. She kicks her legs at the air. “Ken I have that tur’ip?” She asks the man.

“You’ll have to ask Ojihara.”

“Just give her the turnip.” Azula rolls her eyes. “He won’t miss one, especially not one that small. My mongoose-lizard wouldn’t even want that.” She plucks the turnip from the pile and tosses it to the girl who beams from ear to ear. At least someone appreciates her hard work.

The man chuckles again. “I take it you’re the heroic sort?”

Azula tilts her head.

“Stealing food from privileged folks and giving it to children. That’s like, classic hero stuff.”

“I’m not a hero. That turnip is simply insignificant and won’t change the world or anyone’s life one way or another. She’s going to eat it and forget that I ever gave it to her and Ojihara will never know.”

She can tell that he is going to laugh again before he does. “Are all of you Fire Nationals so serious all the time?”

“Yes.”

She yanks another turnip, this time it is worth placing amid the others. She doesn’t want to smile, because it is a really stupid thing to smile over but she does. “I got it.” She remarks smugly. “I harvested a turnip.”

“Great, only twenty or so more. Hopefully you’ll be this enthusiastic about the rest of them.”

Evidently she is at least to the degree that she has made it into a contest; if she can harvest more turnips than him then she is the superior, more skilled harvester. And that is something to take pride in. He doesn’t understand why she is so mad that he won the competition that he never knew he was in.

“I think that you did good!” The little girl declares as they pack it in.

Azula wipes a beat of sweat off of her forehead. Agni, could she use a shower and those luxurious soaps and shampoos from the palace. She smells like hard work and dirt and turnip. She hates all three odors.

“So what if he got more. Yours look better. They’re more purple.”

Azula isn’t sure that purple is the color she would use to describe them, but the compliment still stands. “You are correct.” She agrees. “I’d wager that you’re the only sensible person in this town.”

“I don’no what that means.” She shrugs. “What’s a sen-si-bowl?”

“Nevermind.” Azula sighs.

“Are you gonna stay here or are you gonna go to Chin? My dad says that yer goin’ to Chin?”

“I am, eventually.” She replies. “I’m just staying here a bit longer than I thought I would.”

“Good, ‘cause I like you and you can’t leave ‘cause I said so.”

Azula quirks a brow. “Oh? And how do you think that you’re gonna...going to  make me stay?”

She thinks for a moment. “I’ll tell dad and he’ll make you stay.” She flashes a smile as though she has had achieved some grand victory.

“If you say so.”

“I’m Caihong, who are you?”

“Rikka.”

The man appears behind her and scoops the child into his arms. He tosses Azula a pouch of coins.

“This is more than…” More than she earned, she knows that much. She is woefully horrible at harvesting turnips. And she didn’t exactly lose with grace.

“I gave you some of my share. For keeping Cai entertained.” He grins. “She really likes you.”

That day she learns what it is to be humble.

.oOo.

Azula exhales as they run the comb through her hair. The scent of cedar wood rises off of the softly steaming water and mixes with that of the incense that wafts gasps of smoke into the air. She is surprised that the serving girls remember what scents she likes, it is minute detail. She feels the comb against her scalp, a much welcomed sensation as a different serving girl massages delicate smelling lotion into her calloused palms. Another still, scrubs at her feet, carefully grinding away the roughness of a long walk. She hadn’t realized just how terribly her feet were aching until they began to work the knots out of them.

“Grapes?” Offers another servant.

Azula shakes her head, content to bask in the pampering. It has been such a long time. She almost feels as though she should be receiving such tender treatment. As leisurely as it is, it feels intimidatingly foreign to be so sublimely indulged. Somehow it feels wrong to let them work the callouses out of her hands and feet and the dirt out of her hair and pores. It is unfathomably wonderful to have them scrubbing aptly smelling soaps over her face, to feel clean for the first time in ages. Yet her stomach still flutters.

The servant tentatively sets the princess’ hand down and takes the other. The other servant is still working on her first foot. The servant with the comb withdraws, “your hair is washed, I’ll fetch some ribbons and hair ornaments.”

Azula nods.

“Would you like your nails polished?” Asks the servant working on her left hand.

She nods again. She hasn’t worn polish in ages. And her nails, chipped and broken, could use some filing and evening.

The other serving girl puts her left foot down and takes the right. This time her lips press into a grim line. “I’m going to have the palace physician look at this one.”

The fluttering in her belly swells. Admittedly, that foot has been sore but she has since grown used to it. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“It’s swollen and inflamed.”

Azula knows that she has tensed when the girl working on her hand pauses to massage her shoulders. She relaxes again and the girl resumes her task. Azula closes her eyes and inhales through her nose.

“Good.” Murmurs the remaining serving girl. “Just try to relax.”

She does, mostly. The physician examines her foot as the team of serving girls fix her hair up and apply a subtle layer of makeup to her face. Significantly less subtle is the amount they apply to her neck. She doesn’t stop them, looking at the scar opens the ones in her mind.

“There’s a slight infection.” The doctor declares. “I’ll get that cleaned up and get you some ointments.”

“That sounds well.” Azula replies.

He gives her a slight smile. “When you are finished here, I’d like to give you a full examination. We’d like you to be in good health for when your homecoming is announced.”

“Yes, I would like to be in good health.” She agrees. Though she doesn’t feel particularly ill, it couldn’t hurt to make sure. She supposes that she might be at least slightly malnourished, her hair doesn’t grow as fast as it used to and its color is less vibrant.

It doesn’t piece together until he has left the room; they are going to parade her in front of all of Capital City. The amount of attention that Zuko had garnered with his arrival after three years was record breaking. She has been out of the public eye for nearly six; one spent institutionalized, another two self-confined to the palace, three in the Earth Kingdom, and an additional two months trekking from Yon Rah to Capital City. Her mouth runs dry. She used to love the attention, loved standing over her subjects and looking down upon the crowd. She isn’t sure that this is still something she will relish in. She isn’t sure how they will take to her after so long. They took kindly enough to Zuko’s return…

“Hey, Azula!” Sokka greets.

.oOo.

His stomach does a little flop at the sight of her. Her servant just finishes applying a soft shade of red to her lips. It is like looking into the past; save for shorter hair, he is looking at the girl he’d pinned to the wall during an eclipse. She is styled to almost uncanny perfection; well manicured nails, soft skin--sunburns, scars, and freckles concealed, long and pretty lashes… He suppresses a shudder.

“Sokka.” She returns the greeting.

He clears his throat, “how are you?”

She is quiet for a moment. “My foot is infected.” She turns it inward and back outward again.

“How bad?” He asks.

“The physician says that it isn’t anything to worry about.”

But he has a suspicion that she is worried about something. The inquiry burns on his tongue but this time he leaves it there, lest she make another remark about how many questions he always has for her. He wanders closer and asks something more mundane instead, “it must be nice to get spoiled again.”

He catches the slightest upward quirk of her lip. And he realizes that his initial assessment is wrong; there are other differences between she and who she had been. Though her makeup and hair are fixed up similarly, her stance isn’t so rigid and her eyes are warmer. At the very least, some of the intimidating coldness has left them. And up close he can see the more prominent scars beneath the concealer. She smells nice too, he realizes. And this time without the tinges of smoke.

“Yes, quite.” She answers. “They are going to announce my arrival.”

He laughs, “I feel like that’s a given, right?”

She works her jaw, slightly sticking her lip out. “Yes, I suppose.”

“You want me to come out with you when they announce…”

She shakes her head, “that would look ridiculous.” She pauses. “I mean, I need to go by myself or I won’t be taken seriously. I am stable. I can take care of myself.”

“I think that everyone knows that.”

“Perhaps.” She replies. “But I need to know that everyone knows.”

The servants take a step back, one steps forward again and applies one final stroke of eyeshadow and holds a mirror up for her.  “That will suffice.” She says.

“If you are ready…” The physician prompts.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Sokka.”

He watches her walk away. She limps slightly and he guesses that the doctor has advised against putting her full weight on that foot. He wanders back down the hall and to his room. He wonders how Katara and the others are going to take to Azula when they finally arrive. He hopes that they will give her a chance. He can’t explain it but he thinks that it would sting to see her get discouraged and leave again. He can’t explain it, but he wants her around.

.oOo.

Tomorrow, they tell her. They will have a speech prepared and her outfit ready. Tomorrow everyone in the capital will know that their princess as come home. Tomorrow word will spread fast and she is certain that her moment of peace will have subsided. It has already done so, she reminds herself, her fingers curling around the stone in her pocket. Her thumb brushes over the engraving.

She sits down beneath the maple and lets the wind rustle the fabrics of her robes. The silk caresses her skin pleasantly, like the stokes of a lover’s finger. More like the spectral finders of a lover gone. She swallows, her lower lip trembling. She draws her legs up to her chest

The sun bathes the garden in a wash of picturesque orange. She leans her head against the tree and watches it sink. When it reaches the bottom, she closes her eyes. The night air has a chill, like a death gasp. She grips the stone tighter. She doesn’t notice Zuko taking a seat next to her. She doesn’t wake when he lifts her up and carries her back to her room. Doesn’t stir when he pulls the covers over her shoulders.

She dreams of arms around her. Of a gleeful laugh. Of a sunrise and a warm breeze. It smells faintly of turnip and pine resin. It smells of security, of hope.

[sabraeal]

All That Remains, Chapter 6: The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure [Part 3]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Obiyukiweek 2020, Day 2: Nobility Exhibit self discipline. Show respect to authority. Obey the law. Administer justice. Protect the innocent. Respect women.

Ah, but we have gotten ahead of ourselves once again, have we not? So wrapped up were we in lies and glamour that we have forgotten our girl on the shore, heart dripping in her hands.

It’s all right. She’ll forgive us. Little girls always do.

Let us not leave her waiting.

A girl stands on the shore, red shoes wet in her hands, with none of the answers she seeks. Or rather, none of the ones she was prepared to have.

Alive, the river had told her. Away, said the darkest fears of her heart.

Never had she thought that dead would seem the better option.

We are complex beings; animals with four-chambered hearts. We are meant to hold more than a single thought, a single emotion, a single wish. But still, still-- it is a poisoned gift when elation and desolation can exist beside one another, when they can be flavored by guilt and betrayal.

She is a just a child, and yet a storm brews in her chest, too large for to contain. Beneath it, she is but an island, alone at sea.

So when the boat comes, a humble thing with no explanation, no expectations, she steps on it. What else can she do, when there is no other way to leave the hurricane behind her?

Her rooms are dark when she returns to them.

Kiki moves, pale hair catching the last light of the hall. “Where are your matches? I can’t--”

“No.” Her voice feels wrong in her mouth, too sour and too low. For a moment, Shirayuki wonders if this is truly her body, or if she has stood in the shadows too long and becomes someone else.

“I mean,” she begins again, sounding more like herself with every word, “there’s no need. I’m going to bed.”

Kiki stills behind her. “Do you need help?”

Yes. “No.” Her fingers fumble at the clasps of her gown. “I wore one of my old dresses tonight. From when I...”

Still felt like myself. Her hands clench, cotton soft beneath her fingers, and for once she longs for something coarser, for a wool that might itch or a lace that might scratch. Anything that could ground her to this moment, this body.

“...before,” she manages, peeling the fabric off her. The night’s chill stings her skin. She nearly laughs-- in Lilias, this would a be a balmy night, and now she’s pimpled with goosebumps. “I haven’t forgotten how to undress myself.”

Stay here long enough and you’ll get the hang of it, Obi would be so quick to say. Or maybe, Master should be seeing to it that you do, Miss. But Kiki--

Kiki nods, skirting back to give her space she desperately doesn’t need. It’s strange how she can feel every inch of the gap between them, even though it is only empty air.

“Will you be coming tomorrow?” she asks, striving to keep her tone bright, buoyant. She may not feel like herself, but Shirayuki has made a career out of pushing forward, of persevering, and tonight is no different. “These other gowns are always a bit of a handful by myself.”

Kiki hums; it isn’t in agreement. “The consort will see to it.”

“Haki?” She tries to imagine that, the elegant queen of Clarines looping a hundred pearl buttons down her back.

Kiki’s lips cant into a soft smile, as if she knows just what Shirayuki must be thinking. “She’ll have women sent to you.”

“R-really?” She’s had maids before, lent to her when she traveled to Tanbarun, or sometimes for the night when Izana had deigned her appropriate company at one of Wistal’s balls, but for the queen to assign a pack of them herself, it seemed--

Official. A statement for other nobles to take notice of. Her stomach twists.

“She believes in you,” Kiki says quietly, laying a hand on her shoulder. “We all do.”

Her belly churns with a sickening flop. So did Obi.

Shirayuki shakes herself. It’s all going to be fine. Obi wouldn’t give up on her, and Zen wouldn’t give up on Obi either.

“R-right,” she manages, swallowing around the lump in her throat. “I’ll do my best.”

Is that not what we all want when we are lost? A way to leave the storm behind. A gentle guide to show us the way. An easy answer when none can be found.

It is said that lightning takes the path of least resistance; tree or pole or child-- all of them are the same in its eyes, so long as it meets the ground. And is that not what we are? Lightning in a bottle, a closed current seeking release. We hold a charge within ourselves and let it out when we touch metal. Sometimes even when we touch each other. No wonder we seize the easiest answer when we find it.

But, oh, how foolish we are to take it.

The covers surround her in a protective cocoon, warm and safe. Tonight’s turmoil has wrung her dry; she flops onto her mattress like a child who has run themselves to collapse. Dreams tantalize her from the corners of her vision, and she’s so ready to tip into their embrace, to take what oblivion they will give her with open arms.

There’s no reason to get so upset. 

She jolts from the edge of sleep, fingers clenched. It’s a stray thought, an echo of Zen’s voice; no reason for her heart to race, not when it’s true. Not when everything is taken care of.

It’s not odd for Obi to disappear with no explanation.

A protest strains against her lips, even with no one to rail against. The boy who left Wistal swimming in the fur of his coat isn’t the man who returned. He hasn’t been, not for years now-- maybe not even then. Not since they stood beneath a tree in Tanbarun and she said, I told you we’d see the town next time, right? Not since he’d dragged her along the walls of Lilias and showed her a sunset.

We might as well try to keep a cat indoors.

She rolls, burying her face in the soft cage of her pillow. There’s no point in worrying, not when Zen has everything well in hand, not when there are men out looking for him--

My lady, I don’t know any that have.

Her heart stutters in her chest. Zen had told her-- had promised her that he would send men out, and he wouldn’t-- he couldn’t--

The boy must have been mistaken. Or the consort had the right of it, and Zen had passed over the royal guard, using the knights of the Royal Circle instead. It would make sense; it would take more than a usual guardsman to catch a man of Obi’s skills, if he didn’t mean to be caught.

Whichever direction you’re heading in, he’d said, words misting in the air between them, a promise. I’ll be sure to follow along by your side.

Which can’t be true. Obi couldn’t-- he wouldn’t leave, not without saying goodbye. Not when he had so many promises to keep.

He saw a man leaping over the walls the night Sir Obi went missing. The guilt in Kai’s expression haunts her even now. He was seen leaving with a woman, my lady.

Shirayuki has always prided herself on her cleverness, how she could unravel the most tangled symptoms into a diagnosis. But she holds this puzzle in her hand, and no matter how she tries, she cannot make the pieces fit, cannot make them into a whole.

Obi is a man of his word. He jokes, but he never lies, she told Ryuu once, though she can hardly remember why now. He wouldn’t leave her, not like this. Or Ryuu. Or Zen. But yet, yet--

Did you know he didn’t leave alone?

The sheets tear from her, and oh, the morning is blinding, leaving her cold and blinking on her bed. Her eyes adjust, and there, in the bright glow of the dawn, stands the consort.

“It is time to get up, Shirayuki.” Her mouth curves into a smile. “There is much work to be done.”

There are no oars in this little boat, the girl realizes too late. She has no sooner pushed off from the shore then the current grabs her, hurtling her toward the river’s end. Water sprays up from the rapids, and her little boat rocks perilously under her feet. The easy path this may be, but it is not safe either.

There is a part of her that is frightened, watching as the world moves by her, taking her toward places unknown; but there is another part as well, and it is relieved. She may no longer be in control, but oh, that means she is also no longer to blame.

“So few gowns,” the consort remarks as her women parade Shirayuki’s closet for her review. “And so many of them out of season. They’ll have to be replaced.”

Shirayuki offers a brittle smile in the mirror as one of the maids firmly drags a comb through her hair. “I don’t--” she hisses, teeth tangling in a knot-- “I have as many as I need. Long skirts and fine dresses were bound to get ruined in the pharmacy.”

“But at necessary at court.” Her mouth bows into a faint frown, displeasure weighing on her brow. “You must understand, this is not a simple undertaking. You cannot just...pass a test and become worthy of a crown.”

“That isn’t--”

The consort raises a hand, and her words stutter to a halt. “You have made your position clear, Shirayuki. It is not the title nor the trappings you want, but Zen himself, and I--” she hesitates, gaze distant-- “it is part of why I want to help you. Love is no little thing.”

She smiles, a shy, secret thing, as if they were alone and the room not teeming with her maids. “It is worth all the pain, if you can have love as well. But--” the consort’s gaze fixes on her in the mirror-- “it is not enough. The kings of Clarines once ruled by divine right, and the people-- they have not forgotten.” Her expression shadows when she adds, “they cannot be allowed to forget.”

Shirayuki stares at her hands, flushed. Tanbarun’s royal family had been a joke rather than an inspiration, a vestige of a bygone age that the country had never quite shucked. She’d never held much stock in divine rights, in the idea that someone could be her superior by nothing more than being birthed from the right womb, but--

But being with Zen would mean participating in that fiction, upholding that illusion to keep him safe. “I don’t see what my dresses have to do with that.”

“Everything,” the consort assures her. “You have read fairy stories, haven’t you? Princes cast away because they are dressed as paupers, princesses made by conjuring the right gown-- we think with our eyes first, and then our thoughts. Do you see what I mean?”

Her lip worries beneath her teeth. She’s read those stories, yes, a thousand times, and in each one, it is the clothes than make the man, that set designs on how he is treat but--

The prince is always betrayed by his courtly manors, the princess found by the softness of her skin or made by the contents of her heart.

But those are just stories. Here, in Izana’s court...

Shirayuki bows her head, allowing the maid to slip a pin tight against her skull. “I do.”

“Good. I’ll call for my dressmaker.” The consort slides up beside her, inspecting her maid’s handiwork. “Lovely. Where do you keep your ornaments?”

“Oh.” She nods her her chin toward the wooden box. “Over there.”

The consort lifts the lid with elegant fingers, taking in a breath as if she means to speak--

And stills. Her fingers splay in the air, and she-- she closes the box.

“Well.” Her mouth melts into a warm smile. “That will have to be taken care of as well. Don’t worry, Shirayuki, you’re in good hands now.” Her teeth flash white behind her lips. “Mine.”

Why must these things always happen to children, you wonder. Could this girl not be a woman? Could this boy not be a man? Must it always be that the smallest and most vulnerable that are asked to wander the roads we most fear?

Certainly, they could be. Stories are but lenses through which we see ourselves, made more palatable for the distance. On another page, in another life, they could be a man and a woman on the cusp of something greater, the distance only increasing their longing--

But in a fairy tales there are rules, and the foremost among them is: you must be able to see the magic for it to happen.

When the boat pulls up to the shore, you must not see the beautiful women waiting at its dock, but instead the woman who can conjure. And that, that--

That is the provenance of a child.

Shirayuki is an eternal well of optimism, a veritable font of good will, but when it came to her training--

It’s impossible, she’d told Obi, face buried in her pillow. There’s no way any one person can do all this and look like they’re not trying.

He’d only grinned, idling by her bedside with his usual insolent grin. Glad to see Princess Lessons are going so well.

She’s prepared for more of the same, for the familiar two-steps-forward, ten-steps-back dance she’s been doing for the last few months only now with the added humiliation of the consort beside her but--

It’s different, this time.

“Shirayuki.” Lady Mihoko is entrenched in the divan today, looming with dignity of a temple’s ruin. It’s only the consort’s presence that has excavated her from her favorite chair, but she bears it like an statue missing a limb. “Pour the tea.”

She knows this for what it is: a trap. Mihoko’s maids flank the door to the parlor, ready and entirely willing to pour endless cups of too-sweet tea for everyone seated. This isn’t about thirst, oh no, but that she’s doing entirely too well. Mihoko wants to see her falter and fail as a girl with so common a spine should.

Shirayuki leans forward, mouth thin with concentration, and--

“Keep your shoulders back.” The consort sips delicately at her cup, her words barely rippling its contents. “Don’t round over. Pretend you have a pencil between your shoulder blades.”

Her hand stutters over the salver. A pencil--?

Lady Mihoko watches from her perch; a vulture waiting for a limping animal to fall. Shirayuki has always been at the top of her class, her time at Lilias served with distinction, but yet in this her failure is not only assumed but assured.

Fine. She pushes her shoulders back until the blades kiss, imagining that pencil between them, holding it still as she bends. It’s-- different. Exposing, almost, though she’s wearing no less than she was before, and--

And Lady Mihoko makes no comment as she pours, filling her cup to within a finger’s width of the rim. Nor does she have any disparaging remarks for when she fills the consort’s cup, or her own.

“Sugar?” Shirayuki offers mildly. The corners of her lips twitch, and it takes every last crumb of control she has to keep from smiling. The last thing she needs is for this victory to be tarnished by a vulgar expression.

Mihoko’s lips thin into a forbidding wrinkle, but holds out her cup. “It seems you are much improved,” she allows, begrudgingly, less a compliment and more an accusation.

Shirayuki will take it. “Thank you, Lady Mihoko.”

“Not that you could have sunk much further.” The lady takes a dainty sip before settling the cup onto its saucer. “But I suppose that would make any progress heartening.”

Her smile, carefully constructed to show no improprietous teeth, wavers. “You are...too kind.” The consort sends her a warning glance, and she adds, “My lady.”

“I know I am.” Mihoko glares down her nose, severe. “You should be grateful that Her Majesty has taken you under her wing. The queen of Clarines has much more pressing duties than to educate a--” she casts a disapproving look over her-- “hopeful.”

“Please, Lady Mihoko.” The consort’s mouth rounds into a pleasant curve, the perfect smile. “I am all too happy to fill my hours with such pleasant company as Lady Shirayuki’s. A lady may learn the right fork or the proper dance for an occasion, but one cannot teach a good heart or an interesting mind.”

Her ladyship harrumphs, a quake that shudders through her from slipper to veil, tenders no harsher reply than a sip from her cup. Some degree of royal relation she might be, but even Mihoko won’t quarrel with a queen.

“I’m very grateful!” Shirayuki assures her. “This whole, um, process has been quite challenging and, ah...”

Lonely, she doesn’t say. It nearly tips out all on its own before she even knows it is there, but now it catches in her teeth, sticky and unpleasant.

“It’s an honor,” she finishes, lamely. Mihoko only nods, propriety fulfilled, but the consort--

Haki stares at her, chin tilted, a finger laying thoughtfully along her jaw. She may not be Izana, but her gaze itches like his, as if she were a puzzle that needed solving, or even--

A bug under a glass.

It is not that the girl did not know the danger of sorceresses. Oh no, she had been warned about such women, had read of them in books and shivered at the sound of them in song. But standing as she is, shoes in hand, alone on a river too swift to swim and no oars with which to row--

She makes a choice.

The boat rocks as it comes to shore, so gentle under the sorceress’s guidance, and the little girl makes herself as placid, as docile. That has always been the way she fooled adults before; misbehavior is only assumed from unruly children, but an obedient one--

Well, she has only gotten this far because no one expects the obedient one to run.

It is a good plan, a clever plan, one any young child could be proud of, but--

She does not expect this sorceress.

It had never occurred to her how mortifying it would be to have someone to watch her fail lesson after lesson, to hear as her teachers passed along their lukewarm-- at best-- praise. Shirayuki had always been top of her class, her professors’ best student, and now--

Now she’s grateful Obi had to stand outside while she floundered. One day of the consort’s steady observation and she wants to lay down in her bed and never be seen again.

“You did well.”

Shirayuki turns, eyes wide, as the consort follows her into her room. “What do you mean?”

She blinks, head tilted. “I mean what I said: you did well.”

But I didn’t nearly tips right out, nearly falls straight on the carpet like an ink stain, but she catches it, just in time.

“You’re too kind,” she manages, because somehow implying a lie is more palatable than saying it outright. “I’m not sure my tutors would agree with you.”

The consort waves a hand, as if such worries were little more than smoke. “They are used to ladies. To breeding. When compared to a girl who has been training for this opportunity all her life...yes, you fall quite short. But that is not who you are.”

Haki steps forward, taking one of her hands in hers. “You are the woman who saved Lilias. That some believe a straight spine or a sprightly step could be worth more than that in a princess is--” she takes a breath, agitated-- “antiquated.”

Shirayuki stares, mouth slack, hand limp. “I thought you said--”

“It is important for the people to remember why kings are give the power they possess,” Haki tells her, her eyes so blue, so earnest. “But a good king earns the trust of his people by surrounding himself with the best minds his kingdom can offer. Anyone can learn to hold a fork, Shirayuki, but you--” she smiles-- “you cannot be replaced.“

Something in her chest squirms, but it’s not unpleasant. More like...a squirrel that’s made its next in a tree’s heart, finally waking after a long winter.”

“Oh,” she croaks past the lump in her throat. “Oh.”

In the stories, the sorceresses are old. Or failing that, they are seductresses, dark haired and pale-skinned, every word a twist of the knife.

But this one, oh-- this one is so beautiful and young, her hat so brightly painted with flowers. There is no danger etched on her face or molded in the curves of her body, no sharp teeth or crooked grin. Just a smile, so warm and so gentle.

The little girl is not foolish; she knows exactly how it is when you are not what you seem but--

She does not expect this.

Nor she does not expect to say, “I love roses,” the moment the woman touches her hand.

“You poor child.” When the woman speaks, every word is a song, “How did you come all this way on such a dangerous river? You must be very brave indeed.”

No one had ever called the little girl that before. Pretty, of course, and kind, and often gentle, but brave--

You must tell me who you are, the sorceress says, awe plain in her voice, and how you came here. I must know everything of such a clever little girl.

Her eyes prickle, and before she quite knows what to do, tears stream down her cheek.

Oh, my darling. Arms wrap around her, warm and soft, and oh, how long has it been since she has been held, just like this? So long, so long. No more worries. I have you. I will take care of you.

“Your Majesty, I must insist.” Arundo’s brow blisters with sweat, his dark eyes pleading. “Truly, it is my duty to instruct Mistress Shirayuki. I cannot possible ask you--”

“You are not asking,” the consort reminds him, her mouth hooked into a devious smile. “And I am the one insisting. I think a change of partners will do her ladyship a world of good.”

The dancing master pales. Shirayuki can’t blame him; if Izana was to find out she mangled his wife’s feet as she did Arundo’s...

“I’m not sure she’s ready for such a, ah...change.” He wrings his hands, mopping at his brow. “Surely a few more weeks, and perhaps--”

“I have been watching these lessons for quite some time, Master Arundo, would you not agree?” The man has no recourse but to nod, not with the way the consort pins him with her gaze, hedging him against the wall with her imposing posture. “I have noticed a few areas in which her understanding of the dance might be improved.”

All of them, probably. Despite years of tutors, Shirayuki has never quite grasped the finer areas of dance. Not that there hadn’t been some successes-- she never seemed to embarrass herself in Tanbarun when Raj insisted on a waltz, and Obi always managed to make her look capable, if not competent, but outside that--

Well, Her Majesty shouldn’t be wearing slippers facing off against her feet.

Arundo deflates in the face of her determination. “Ah, well...if you’re certain...Your Majesty...”

“I am.” The consort turns to her, skirts skimming the floor. Ah, it had been hard enough avoiding Arundo’s feet when she could see them; this hemline can only complicate matters. “Come, I’ll lead you through it. A waltz might seem hard to start, but there’s very little to remember.”

Shirayuki doesn’t have the heart to tell her that’s what they’d been trying to do before Arundo had decided that learning polka might behoove her more, if only because it put space between her partner and her feet. “Ah...if you think so.”

“I know so.” Haki tilts her a small, secretive smile. “Give me your hand.”

With one last helpless glance at Arundo, she does. The consort’s palm is cool against hers, like marble warming under her touch, and she slides into the circle of her arms with only a little finagling.

“I should be about the right height.” Her face is so close-- nearly too close, the her eyes so pale and so clear, so unlike the deep Wisteria blue. “Give or take an inch or two.”

That is all the warning she has; the accompanist starts a thoughtful piece, slow yet bright, and the consort sweeps her across the floor. She stumbles on the first step, but the music’s pace makes it easy to recover, to remember the simple rhythm of up, up, down; up-up-down--

She steps out into her turn, arm lifted, and--

Just barely misses Her Majesty’s slippered foot, slid to safety just in time.

Haki laughs, and it’s so different when it is not a disappointed tutor that looks back, but Her Majesty’s smiling face. As if she were not in a practice room, but a bed chamber, practicing on a lark instead of disastrously careening toward a deadline.

“Well then,” Haki breathes, holding her stomach as if it might cease her giggles. “Now we know what we need to work on.”

The girl is but a child, well-loved and then sent into the world alone, shell of determination over a soft body of longing. For how long has she been reaching out her hands only to come back empty? For how long has she been calling for help, only to go unheard?

And now a hand catches hers with warm smiles above it, with arms so ready to hold the burden she’s been carrying for far, far too long...

The little girl enters a garden, and oh, who are we to judge when she grasps with both hands.

“Well done, once again.” Haki slumps onto the divan beside her, flushed, eyes bright. “I think you’ve nearly gotten that waltz.”

Shirayuki delicately closes her jaw. “I’m...I don’t really think that’s true. I nearly stepped on you at least two dozen times.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Only because you’re much quicker than Arundo is,” she laughs. “Which is good, otherwise Izana would have--” she coughs, flustering under the consort’s bemused smile-- “I mean, His Majesty would have been quite upset if I’d broken your foot.”

Her Majesty hums, gaze measuring. “I see he was right.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You’re really not afraid of him.” Haki’s sweet smile sharpens into a grin. “Izana.”

“Hguk.” If only she knew how to answer questions like these-- or at least, how to answer them when someone with a His or Her poses them, looking for an answer that is not respect is earned, not given.

“I’m from Tanbarun,” Shirayuki settles on, since that seems...safe.

“Yes,” Haki hums, all too knowing. “I could see how a royal title might not impress you.” 

She has the sudden, perverse urge to object. Raj might have once been a black mark on Tanbarun’s reputation, the prince no princess would deign to entertain as a prospect, but now-- now he was a prince the people could be proud of. That she could be proud of. Even if he was a little ridiculous.

But she doubts that consort would understand such a change. So she drowns the impulse in the tea a maid hands her.

Haki sips at her own with effortless elegance, measuring her with a glance. “I suppose that is part of your charm. That you don’t believe in this,” she explains, “the superiority of good breeding.”

Tea burns when she breathes it instead of swallowing, and well, a coughing fit is one way to get out of having to answer...any of that.

Haki pats her back, harder than Shirayuki would expect from a woman raised to be a king’s demure shadow. “There, there.” The words ripple with the undercurrent of a giggle. “Let us talk of something else instead. Perhaps the reason your mind wanders?”

The garden and its marvels lead to a cottage, its walls of wattle and its roof of thatch. The most delicious smells waft through the window-- fresh baked bread, hot fruit tart--

Come inside, the sorceress says, I have sweet berries, fresh picked, and cool cream with which to have it.

The little girl hesitates, red shoe hovering over the threshold. It was one thing to stand upon the dock with her, to be held and hold in return, to walk among her flowers and marvel at the sight, but it’s quite another to enter her home, the center of her power. Unless she wants to be sweet child stew--

You must tell me how you came to be here. The sorceress smiles, so warm. I will help you, if I am able.

The little girl steps inside.

The consort smiles in her silence, sweeping up across the room. “You have such pretty hair pieces,” she remarks brightly, “I must applaud your taste.”

“Oh I...I didn’t pick them,” she admits. “I don’t really have an eye for that sort of thing.”

A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifts. “You don’t mean to say my good brother did. I never thought him the type.”

“Oh! No, it wasn’t him,” she laughs. “Obi...”

I’m looking for a boy, the little girl says, for despite all her cleverness, there are some tricks a child cannot see. He has dark hair. He is this tall. He gave me these shoes.

My oh my, the sorceress says, leading her to a chair. There are no other children in this house, but even still it is the right size, just large enough so that her toes brush at the floor when she kicks them. You describe him so well. He seems like he must be a very good boy.

He is, for he is, even if he’s strayed from her. But he is lost.

This is for you. The pin balances awkwardly behind her ear, hair entirely too short for something like it. He smiles at her, something lopsided and sharp. She hardly knows him then, only thinking that she must look ridiculous. Still, his eyes are the clearest she’s ever seen as he says, Part of my prize.

Is that so? the sorceress hums. Do you mind very much if I were to brush your hair? It is so disheveled from your travels, I would hate for it to get too tangled.

The girl hesitates, her hands in her lap. The berries and cream look very good indeed, and when the sorceress brings out her brush, it is mother of pearl, so pretty and so fine. She knows what they say about strange food, she knows what they say can be done with only a few strands of hair, but-- she is a small girl, so weary, so unused to kindness, and--

She nods.

Since there’s no martial arts match to win, he teases, so many years later, I thought we’d go choose another one for you.

It sits heavy in her hands as she stand in the hall, waiting.

Thank you, she says, meeting eyes that are still so clear all these years later, thank you so much for this

Have you seen him? she asks, watching the woman warily as she approaches. The little girl has heard of what conjurers might do, but she is a strong girl, a brave girl, a clever one. She would not be fooled by illusion. My boy?

Your boy? The sorceress sweeps close, the scent of flowers wafting on the air. I have not.

The brush is so soft in her hair, so lulling. She can feel her eyes drift to half mast. It has been so long since she rested.

But I’m sure he’ll come through. The sorceress’s mouth rounds into a dangerous curve. Everyone does, eventually.

You’re drunk, she decides, watching the way he sways on the balls of his feet, swaying like a sailor at sea. Still, he’s coiled tight, braced for an attack. Even soused, he’s vigilant Obi, I know that--

You don’t know anything about me, Miss.

His eyes have never been cloudier.

You have roses, the little girl slurs, so many of them, and so beautiful.

You like them? It’s hard to keep her eyes open now, her head nodding at the table.

They are my favorite, she says, my boy and I...we raised roses together.

The brush pauses, mid-stroke. You don’t say?

“It’s too bad you have so few.” The consort reaches out a hand, her fingers catching in her hair. The touch is so unexpected, Shirayuki forgets to flinch. “Your hair is so lovely.”

“Thank you,” she manages, which is better than saying, I hear that a lot.

It’s no use; Haki’s mouth lifts wryly, and even though she hasn’t said a word, Shirayuki knows she’s heard every one. “You’ll have to let me lend you one of mine.”

“Wha?” She blinks, staring as the consort rounds the divan, clasp in hand. “I couldn’t--”

“Put it in yourself? I know. Please,” the consort comes to sit beside her, pales eyes shining eagerly, “allow me to pin it for you.”

“I...” Shirayuki snaps her lips over her protest; Haki may only be the consort, but still, saying no to a queen was what Obi would call career limiting. “You’re too kind.”

Her hands are gentle as she removes the pins lying tight against Shirayuki’s scalp. “Oh no, not at all. It’s the least I could do for my sister.”

She says it so casually, as if this were all settled, as if Shirayuki’s success was already assured and not balanced on the head of a pin, and--

And for once, Shirayuki believes it.

You should stay, the sorceress says, and the little girl hardly hears it, her chin cradled on her arms.

I can’t, I can’t, she yawns, looking out on the world through the net of her lashes. I have to find my boy.

He’ll come, in time, the woman assures her. As I said, everyone does. Why not wait here?

With what she’d seen of Rona’s skills the last time she’d visited Tanbarun, Shirayuki expected to be left with a rat’s nest that would take three maids to untangle. But the consort’s hands are practiced, neatly twisting and lifting as she pins.

“Have you’ve done this before?” She grimaces; there was probably much more polite way to put that, one that didn’t call a queen’s qualifications into question. “I mean...there aren’t many ladies of the court that know how to, um, do this.”

“Take care of themselves? Yes,” she hums, too amused, “I know. I was one of the dowager’s handmaidens when she was queen. We didn’t need to do much, but, well...a girl like to distinguish herself, doesn’t she?”

“O-oh.” She bites her lip, thoughtful. “So...before you were the Mistress of Lilias? Is that how you met Izana?”

Her hands still, just for a moment, before twisting another piece. “No. We have known each other...far longer than that. Our fathers were...”

“Friends?” Shirayuki supplies, when Haki does not.

“No, better-- allies. I was practically raised with the Wisterias.”  She laughs. “No wonder I was always desperate for a sister. Good thing at least one of my brothers has decided to oblige me.”

The comb’s teeth skim against her scalp, and Shirayuki grimaces. “With someone no one expected.”

The consort drops down beside her, companionably close, closing a hand around hers. “Perhaps you did not realize, Shirayuki, how serious I was. I am as selfish as any of these men, though what I want from you is not feminine perfection.” She grins, and it’s not like Izana’s, a prelude to a challenge, but an invitation to mischief. “Don’t forget that before I was the queen of Clarines, I was the mistress of Lilias. If the woman who saved the North is an unorthodox choice to the relics of this court...then it is just the one I want. Do you understand?”

Stay, my precious girl, the sorceress whispered, I have long been waiting for a dear little maiden like you.

“I do.”

It is dark when one woman says to another, “There is a box in her room, on the dresser. Do you know it?”

The second bows her head. “I do.”

“Good.” The first worries a lip, hesitant. “See that it disappears.”

“I...” The second straightens, nods. “I will.”

A little girl sleep and a sorceress stands in her garden.

You must stay with me, she says as the roses seep beneath the ground, and see how happily we shall live together.

[maryellencarter]

Queer asks copied from @corelliaxdreaming :

1. Is your family accepting? -- Hah. No. My bio-family is not accepting at allllll, so I went and got myself an internet family instead.

2. What is your sexuality? -- Weird. The strongest part of my identity is Aromantic. I seem to be pretty much allosexual, maybe bisexual; most of the people I find myself attracted to are men within a fairly specific category (physically fit to muscular, at least as competent as me, kind, and often a bit dorky; I also have a weakness for clever hands and sexy voices), but the women I'm attracted to cover a much broader range of appearances and personalities. I fall pretty much in the category of the one Tumblr post that said something like "Being bisexual means you're attracted to three specific fictional men and all women", even though the attraction to men... feels... more attraction-y? I'm still really struggling to figure that difference out.

3. What is your gender identity? -- Sort of genderfluid, sort of genderqueer, sort of maybe agnostically agender? I used to ID really strongly as a trans man, and then after a year or so of being accepted, I found myself turning female. I bounced back and forth for a lot of years but seem to have settled down at a point where it doesn't especially matter to me most of the time. Which is a lot more comfortable than hurtling around to different points on the gender spectrum without warning.

4. Favorite color? -- Blue. Royal blue, mostly. That really deep sky blue you get sometimes during the fall. A bunch of really bright colors.

5. When did you find out your sexuality? -- Oh, it's been a process. For a long time I identified as asexual. It took me years to figure out I was actually romance-repulsed, and more years to figure out I had any attraction to women. I'm still sort of confused by that part. Like I mostly just want to look at them being pretty, but I also definitely want to look at their boobs? Maybe touch some boobs? I'm honestly not sure.

6. What do you wish you could tell your past self? -- Oh lord. Sexuality and gender wise? I'm not sure young me could have been hurried along the process of self discovery. I'd really like to tell her she was being abused and gaslighted and that she needed to take her great-aunt's offer of a free ride and major in geology *before* she broke her health, and maybe also tell her she needed a CPAP machine, but she might just think I was a temptation of the Devil. Also I'm not sure if the CPAP machine was an option before Obamacare. Or the psych meds she needed, either.

7. Have you changed labels since realizing you were queer? -- Oh yeah, all over the place. Asexual, trans, genderqueer, biromantic (for about a week), aromantic allosexual bisexual maybe pansexual... some people apparently even count PCOS as an intersex condition, since I have a lot more beard and chest hair than is normal for perisex women, to the point that I always have to explain to a new doctor that I'm not in fact on testosterone, my body just does that. I've never quite felt right claiming the intersex label, but I've tried on a lot of others. I think my header may still say "queer on every conceivable axis".

8. How was your day? -- Um. I got stuck wandering Cracked.com for most of it. Then I drove up to check out my pulmonologist's office, which doesn't *say* they're closed for the pandemic, so I guess I'll go up again on Thursday and poke them about whether my appointment still exists. Then I went and wandered around a very large very dead mall on that side of town, hatched a bunch of pokeymans, then came home and ate some split pea soup.

9. Do you have any queer friends irl? -- I don't have *any* friends irl, and it's kicking my ass. I have like one or two coworkers I could hypothetically hang out with outside of work if we weren't so all-fired busy. But if we're talking "friends I have seen irl at some point", I'm pretty sure they're all queer. They might also be limited to @tigerkat24 and one other person who doesn't use Tumblr, I'm not sure.

10. What's your favorite hobby? -- Probably knitting. It's soft and squishy and brightly colored, and it can be as brainless or as complex as I could possibly want.

11. Who's the best queer icon in your opinion? -- I honestly don't have an opinion. I've always been too far outside the community to figure out whomst the options were.

12. Which pride flags do you like the most design / color wise? -- Pansexual. I'd probably have a lot more pride merch if I IDed as pan, but it just never feels like it fits quite right.

13. Do you wish you could change any pride flags? -- YES. The aro flag is the exact same colors as the agender flag, just in a different arrangement, and it pisses me off because you can't distinguish aro merch from agender merch unless it's specifically flag shaped / has the stripe arrangement. I liked the yellow/orange/green/black aro flag, I found it much more cheerful, but apparently it was too similar to something Rastafarian. But you can't find alloaro flag merch at *all*, even though it has the green and yellow, which I like.

14. Are you openly out? -- Can't really help it, since I legally changed my name to a distinctively masculine one back in the day, and I do not remotely pass as male. So anybody who both sees or hears me and knows my legal name, knows there's *something* queerish going on. (I go by a gender neutral name these days, but haven't yet been arsed to change it legally because it's an entire hassle and a half.)

15. Are you comfortable with yourself? -- Mneh. I'm not *un*comfortable with my gender and sexuality, particularly. Sometimes I wish I could pass as male, sometimes I wish I could have cute cleavage. Sometimes I tie myself in knots with my feelings about women.

16. Do you experience dysphoria? -- I used to, very strongly. It hasn't been very aggressive lately.

17. Bottom, top, or verse? -- *shrugs* I guess I'd be a switch or "verse" because I'm down for whatever.

18. Are you femme, butch, or neither? -- I swing wildly between wishing to present Extremely Butch in a lumberjack style, which is impractical in the Southwest, or wishing to present Extremely Femme but being unable to do so, and tying myself in knots over the inability. (I can't wear femmey shoes due to my stupid feet, I can't have pierced ears as they get infected and the one pair of nice lightweight handcrafted earrings I paid $50 for is gone with the rest of my shit, I'm too lorge to find any nice dresses or be able to like try on prom dresses and stuff, I have a tendency to break jewelry as I'm extremely rough on my possessions... etc.) In practice my gender presentation is Fat Slob. :P

19. Do you bind? -- Not technically, but I do wear cheap sports bras which tend to flatten rather than lift or shape.

20. Do you shave? -- Only by necessity. I shave my face when I remember, because my beard looks extremely douchey and rather like pubes. Occasionally I shave my cleavage if I'm trying to present femmey. I pretty much never shave anything else unless the hair is getting Smelly.

21. If you could date anyone you wanted, who would it be? -- Um. Good question. The thing is, I am fairly strongly romance-repulsed, but I do want and enjoy queerplatonic relationships, so I would draw a distinction here between "dating" someone and being "in a relationship" with them.

22. Are you in a relationship? -- Yes, in fact.

23. Describe your partner. -- @camshaft22 . Um. She's very much the Hobbie to my Wes. She's very snarky and dies a lot and I love her very much.

24. Have you ever dated anyone of the same gender? -- Given that we're both genderfluid, I would say I'm in a relationship with someone of the same gender, yes.

25. Dated anyone of another gender? -- I've never dated or been in a relationship with anyone else, so I guess the answer is no.

26. Tell me a random fact about yourself! -- I always use this one, but I once lived in four different states (mostly non-contiguous) within a calendar month.

27. Do you own any pride flags / merch? -- No. I used to have a whole-ass collection that I added to every Pride, and then I lost all my damn shit and haven't had the heart to start looking again. Well, I have a rainbow necklace Kat sent me which is pretty nice. Can't wear it till my damn sunburn heals, though. :P

28. Have you ever been to a pride parade? -- Yes, when I lived in Bisbee. They have quite an excellent Pride which draws people from as far off as Denver.

29. Any advice to someone who isn't out or is exploring themselves? -- Take your time. It's okay if things change. You don't have to solve yourself all at once. It's more important to find people who will accept whoever you turn out to be.

30. Pineapple on pizza? -- I've honestly never tried it. Part of me feels like I should, in order to develop an opinion, and part of me feels like I'm just as happy being outside of that particular debate.

[lucyarcher]

Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade Special Booklet Novel

The 12 Vampires and the Demon Lamp

“Chichinashi! Where are you hiding!?”

“Heeey, Bitch-chan! Be a good girl and come out~?”

In the parade’s aftermath, Ayato-kun and Laito-kun’s voices resonated in the empty Glimmer Street.

I was hiding in the shadow of a building, letting out a tiny sigh.

“What should I do, I need to hurry to the Bernstein castle…”

Right now, It’s not just Ayato-kun and Laito-kun… But all twelve vampires I’m running away from.

The reason I’m in this situation is because of this sparkling, golden ‘magical lamp’ I have in my hands.

--- It happened after I got my heart back with everyone’s help.

As I said we were leaving this town to return to the human world, Count Walter called out to his butler.

As an apology for the trouble caused by his master, he handed me this ‘magic lamp’. It was said that it could grant any wish you’d wish for only once, a truly valuable treasure.

And… The ones who heard the entire story from start to finish, was everyone of the Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami families.

”I really can’t accept something this valuable after all… I have to return it back to the butler.”

As I had said so and started to head to the Bernstein Castle, they refused to accept that and tried to stop me.

‘If you don’t need it then we’ll use it instead’, they said... Before I knew it, I had ended up running away from them with the lamp in order to avoid it being stolen.

--- And like that, our chase began.

I don’t know what kind of wishes everyone wants granted, but if only a single wish can be granted, then it doesn’t have to be me.

“Hee… So that’s what you were thinking. Well, I think your running is useless…”

“--- S-Shu-san…!?”

“It’s not just Shu, I’m here too. Geez, making us search around…”

Once I lifted my face, I saw Subaru-kun standing next to me as well… No, it wasn’t just the two of them. Ayato-kun and Laito-kun who were looking for me earlier were as well. Even Kanato-kun and Reiji-san, everyone of the Sakamaki family had gathered.

“Kuku… You sure are desperate, Subaru.”

“That’s because Subaru-kun~ Plans to wish for ‘Bitch-chan to be crazy about him’ after all~♪ That’s why he’s become all desperate, nfu♪”

“D-don’t just put words in mouth! My wish is for a new stylish coffin!!”

“My wish is… to be surrounded by a never-ending supply of sweets for the rest of my life.”

“In that case, I’ll wish for enough takoyaki to satis- No, making Chichinashi have a proper pair of breasts would be nice after all.”

“Eh!? M-me…!?”

“That’s no good Ayato-kun. Bitch-chan shall be made into an onee-san with a sexy, nice body by me♪”

“G-geez! Stop it, you two…!”

“… You really can’t think of anything but pointless matters. If it really can grant any wish, then I would like to make it so father never calls me again… Fuaah…”

They stared at me as they gradually narrowed the distance between us. As they reached out for the lamp, Reiji-san who had been silent up till now spat out words flatly.

“What is the meaning of this… Because she’s touching all over the lamp, it’s getting covered in fingerprints! Here, it is not yet too late! Put these on your hands immediately!”

Reiji-san yelled out hysterically as he threw me a pair of white gloves. Being startled at his menacing look, I put on the gloves as I was told to and Reiji-san seemed satisfied.

“I’ve reached my limit… Do you people even understand the worth of this lamp?”

“Haa? Aren’t we even allowed to touch it with our bare hands…”

“Looking at it like this, it looks completely normal huh~ I feel like I’ve seen a similar lamp in Kanato-kun’s room though…”

“Yeah… Well, it can’t grant any wishes of course.”

Ayato-kun, Laito-kun and Kanato-kun were talking among themselves as Reiji-san sighed deeply.

«This ‘magic lamp’ is one of a kind, an item with a high historical value. If it grants another wish, there is a possibility that it could simply disappear, it would be repulsive to egoistically use it for one’s own self-gratification…”

In contrast to Reiji-san who stressed the lamp’s importance, the others looked terribly bored by his story, and Reiji-san had to repeat himself.

“Well, the day you all will understand may never come. In particular, having you over there participating in an unusual place like this…”

“… You’re noisy, it’s fine either way.”

Ignoring Reiji’s words as if he was purposefully trying to agitate him, Shu-san gave off a feeling of calmness.

“Kuku… You guys really can’t see eye to eye.”

“Fufu, please look at Reiji’s frustrated face. I feel like I got to see something interesting for once in a while.”

“You have to stop it, Ayato-kun, Kanato-kun~. If you say such things, Reiji will be all pitiful you know~?”

“Pitiful, you say… Kuku. Aren’t saying something worse than the two others?”

The other four continued laughing as they watched Shu-san and Reiji-san’s interaction.

When their laughter reached Shu-san’s ears, he let out a snort of amusement.

It seemed Reiji-san’s pride was severely hurt by the scene. He was trembling with anger.

I should get away before they cause any more trouble…

As soon as they seemed to have forgotten about me, I fortunately managed to leave the scene without a moment’s delay.

“… Phew, thank goodness. I seems like they didn’t notice me.”

I managed to reach the back alley opposite to Glimmer street called Aizen.

To be honest, I didn’t really want to walk through this street, but I have to keep going this way if I want to reach the castle while escaping Ayato-kun and the others.

“Kuku… That’s too bad. You can’t escape from us First Bloods.”

“Hand over that lamp you are holding in your hands, right now.”

I held my breath as I heard voices from the darkness. The figures emerging from it was Shin-kun and Carla-san.

“I-I can’t do that…! I think it’s wrong to use the lamp for one’s own self-interest…”

“If the lamp is returned, it’ll just be thrown into the treasure trove right? In that case, don’t you think the lamp would be way happier to be actually used?”

“B-but…”

“Come on, stop hesitating. Nii-san is waiting here as well, so could you hurry it up?”

“… T-then, Shin-kun, what are you going to wish for?”

I asked him the question while in an uncomfortable confusion, and he answered, smiling in enjoyment.

“That’s obvious. For the eradication of every single lowly vampire in the under-“

“--- No, dry-cured ham.”

“N-nii-san…?”

“Every food that exists in this world shall be turned into dry-cured ham. That is what I… No, the First Bloods long for.”

“I-is that so…”

Without a change in his complexion, Carla-san spoke decisively.

The wish was completely ran by self-interest, I wonder if Shin-kun is fine with that… As I thought that I glanced over to Shin-kun, who in turn was staring at Carla-san with a defeated look.

“… Now, woman. Hand that over this immediate.”

“Don’t tell me you’re really planning on granting that wish…!?”

“Yes, of course.”

Having every food in this world turned into dry-cured ham… That would be unbearable no matter what.

It pained me to deceive him however… I decided on a certain lie.

“C-Carla-san… Have you tried this town’s specialty, dry-cured ham galettes, yet?”

“…… What?”

“It’s a limited number galette that goes for sale after the end of the parade. When I passed by the store earlier it didn’t seem like there was much left, so I just thought I should let you know.”

I didn’t expect him to believe me, but, even if only for a little while, I wanted Carla-san to forget about the lamp. With that in mind, I kept up my acting.

“…… Let us go, Shin. Leave this woman alone.”

“W-wait, Nii-san! Did you really eat that story up!?”

“We will know whether it is true or false once we see it for ourselves. If it turns out to be false, it would be of no difficulty for me to catch this human woman. However, if what this woman said turns out to be true, then…”

“If we don’t hurry, the dry-cured ham galettes will be sold out, right? ... I understand.”

It seemed like it was impossible for him to refute. Shin-kun reluctantly followed after Carla-san.

I’m truly sorry… I apologized to the both of them within my heart, and left for my destination.

“Haah… I can finally see it…”

A little while after I had separated from the two Tsukinamis, I had finally gotten closer to the Bernstein Castle.

“What do I do now… I can’t get closer like this…”

However, in front of the castle gate stood four figures side by side. Those figures were everyone from the Mukami family… The one standing in the center was of course Ruki-kun.

As expected of Ruki-kun the tactician. He must have known that if I wanted to return the lamp, I would at some point return here. I completely lost the race back here.

“Eve… I found you…”

“!! A-Azusa-kun!?”

As I turned towards the sudden voice that timidly called out from behind me, I came face to face with Azusa-kun who was speaking with Ruki-kun just a moment ago.

“Aa, M Neko-chan! So this is where you were~!”

“Tch… Making us wait for this long. You’re late, Mesubuta!”

”You guys, calm down. If you make too much noise, the others will notice us.”

Because of the loud voices, all of them had taken notice of me. With no possibility of escape, the four brothers of the Mukami family had captured me.

“I’m sorry, everyone. But I won’t hand over the lamp to anyone…!”

Making the first move on behalf of the group, Ruki-kun let out a tired sigh.

“… It seems you’re misunderstanding something. I was simply planning on taking the lamp under custody.”

“Eh… Ruki-kun, you don’t want your own wish granted?”

“Naturally. Rather than you keeping it, keeping it with me, a vampire, would diminish the chances of it being taken away.”

“Just letting you know, but~ … The truth is, Ruki is planning to remodel our house with the lamp~★”

“Ruki’s personal study where we’re not allowed to enter, a game room with only chess… Kuku, it’s as expected of the eldest son.”

“…! Don’t speak out of turn. I simply wanted to make the residence we received from that person more comfortable for you guys to live in…”

Azusa-kun made a wry smile at the flustered Ruki-kun who had his real aim exposed to his little brothers, when his voice called out to me.

“You know, Eve… We were talking earlier… And it ended with making Ruki the representative to make a wish with the lamp…”

“Ruki-kun’s so mean~ The truth is, I was planning on making a wish for 100 years’ worth of Vongole Bianco.”

“I was planning on making a wish for the power to control the weather, but that plan’s outta the window now. Haah… Just when I thought I could make the gardening a little easier…”

“I’m fine as long as I’m together with Eve, that’s why… I don’t really have any particular wish I want granted…”

“Is that so..? Everyone’s great for holding back.”

While the younger brothers spoke of their complaints, it didn’t seem like they were going to force through their own wishes. It must be because Ruki-kun wanted to make a wish for the sake of their family, and by seeing the Mukami family’s bond of trust, I felt a calmness in my heart.

However… While I may think so, it doesn’t mean I can hand over the lamp to them.”

“Um, I… In the end, letting only a single person have their wish granted is---!?”

Following the moment after I thought something rubbed next to me, a building close by collapsed with a loud noise.

“!? This magical power…”

“Could it be… The Tsukinami-san family…? Look, over there…”

“Geh, they’ve got some pretty angry faces. Did ya do something?”

“… T-that’s…”

I felt a prickling pain in my heart at Yuma-kun’s words. Carla-san and the others must be angry because of my impulsive lie back then…

“Hey, what should we do!? At this rate we’ll all be turned to ashes…!”

At Kou-kun’s words, I rushed towards the two figures in a hurry.

First of all, I need to apologize as soon as possible… However, just as I was about to apologize, the entire Sakamaki family appeared and blocked the way.

“You can’t run anymore… Hey, hurry up and hand me over the lamp!”

“Subaru, what are you saying? The one going to use the lamp she’s carrying is me. You’re in the way.”

“You’re wrong! The one to have his wish granted is me!”

“Eeh— Let me have it my way once in a while~ If it can only be used once, then it’s obvious that my wish is the best choice.”

A slightly tired Shuu-san joined in as well. Before I knew it, everyone of the Sakamaki family, Mukami family and Tsukinami family had gathered together.

Glares were sent across the sides and the mood turned explosive. At this rate, there’s no hope of me stopping them alone.

If it’s come to this, I have no other choice but to borrow someone else’s power. I didn’t want to use the lamp to make a wish but… If I wanted everyone quieten down, there was no other way.

I rubbed the sides of the lamp and called out in a loud voice.

“Make the lanterns soar into the night sky one more time!”

White smoke started to rise from the lamp and with the sound of a ‘poof’, the lamp disappeared.

Once I looked up towards the sky, I was met with the magical scene of countless of floating lanterns stretching across the night sky, just like a few hours ago… At some point, their arguing had suddenly stopped.

“You… Haah. You’re really a stupid woman.”

“None of us agreed to you doing that. Geez, just wasting the lamp on something like that…”

“… Eh…?”

Shu-san and Yuma-kun’s words came unexpected… And I froze on the spot.

“Kachiku, it appears that you don’t understand the worth of that lamp.”

“That’s right… To think that the underworld’s number one most precious treasure were to be lost on your good-for-nothing wish…!”

Ruki-kun and Reiji-san spoke out in an almost grieving tone.

“B-but… Everyone were impressed by the floating lanterns, right...?”

I called out to the others in a fluster. If only someone would agree with me… Even after I put my heart in it and all…

“I was impressed by it? But you know, seeing it two times is honestly…”

“… Thinking the same way as the likes of a vampire is the worst, but… Just for this once, Kou might be right. Hey, don’t you think so too, Nii-san?”

“… My dry-cured ham is…”

“That’s too bad, Shin-san… Carla-san doesn’t seem to be listening…”

“Aaw… I really wanted to see a Bitch-chan with lots of sex appeal~”

“I’m in the same boat. Even after all this time I had spent, thinking over and over about what kind of candy I’d begin eating with…!”

“Damn it! My plan for a coffin where no one would bother me…!”

“If it’s come to this, then it can’t be helped. Hey, Chichinashi. I’m gonna suck your blood in return!”

“W-wait! That’s too sudden…!”

“Shut up! If I don’t, I won’t be able to calm this anger!”

I tried searching around my surroundings for help from the approaching Ayato-kun, but everyone at that place looked at me with glares that gleamed in the dark night.

At this rate it will just end with everyone will demanding my blood and forcibly taking it… There’s no way I could endure that. Unless I somehow escape… I ran away as fast as I could.

“Ah! Wait up, M Neko-chan!!”

“Geez, Bitch-chan! I’m not scary~!”

The night sky covered with endless flying lanterns was truly beautiful, but in this moment I couldn’t afford to enjoy it. Right now I had to escape them, their voices calling for me and their increasingly approaching footsteps.

I didn’t want everyone to quarrel so I wanted them to get along in some way or another, and maybe acknowledge that relationship.

Certainly, that wish came true. Right now they’re all working together, regardless of their families and racial obligations.

Although, knowing that their objective is to claim my blood… This doesn’t make me happy at all.

--- The parade of the underworld passed without incident, however, my night had only just begun.

END

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 3)

part one | part two

(I don’t think I clarified it in parts one and two but Lance and Pidge are roommates. Lance finished college two years ago)

After spending the weekend with Shiro and Keith, everything seems a little brighter.

Lance has an extra spring in his step that annoys the hell out of Pidge. He plays Overwatch with Keith at least twice a week, and they make a devastating team when they’re playing to win. Keith plays with a fiery, single-minded focus that would probably be scary if Lance wasn’t already crushing on him. So instead it’s just insanely attractive, the way Keith sounds when he’s barking out orders to the team. He’s a natural leader and Lance is stupidly eager to follow.

It’s time for Lance to make a trip home to Cuba to see his parents and he’s so excited, he only gets to go home every few months. It’s only for a week, but Pidge will take care of his cats. He mentions to Keith that he’ll be out of town and won’t be available to play for a bit.

Lance makes some vlogs while he’s home, and does them in Spanish because why not? He bets a lot of his followers don’t even realize he’s Cuban and this is his chance to show off his home. It takes a whole night to add the English subtitles because he doesn’t trust YouTube’s auto CC feature not to garble his words, but it’s worth it when he sees the outpouring of comments on the video, a lot of them in Spanish. He gets one from Shiro complimenting him left and right and it makes Lance blush and flail a little.

He spends every other minute with his family, teaching his nephew how to play the ukulele and cooking with his mom and he’s so happy to be home, he cries a little when it’s time to catch his flight back to the states.

He gets in an Overwatch game with Keith the night he gets back, and he tries not to be annoying but it’s hard not to gush about his trip over the mic. He’s halfway through telling Keith about some sea turtles he saw on the beach when he’s interrupted.

“I know, Lance. I saw the photos on twitter.”

Lance blinks. “Uh. You did?”

Keith seems unfazed and triggers his ultimate, taking out half the enemy team. “Yeah? I follow you.”

And oh my god, Keith follows him on twitter. Keith follows him on twitter. He’s suddenly freaking out that he might have tweeted about Keith?? But no, his account is public and he knows better. “Oh, uh.” Lance almost gets taken out by a Sombra. “Your account is set to private, so it didn’t tell me you were.”

“Oh.”

Lance is panicking a little because he wants to ask if he can follow Keith on twitter but is that too much? What if he keeps his account locked for a reason? What if that’s too forward? What they have is cool and he doesn’t want to fuck it up--

“You can follow me,” Keith says, quiet. “All I ever post is bikes and photos of Kosmo, though.”

Lance hopes the sound of his chair squeaking as he bounces in it doesn’t come through the mic. “I could always use more dogs on my timeline,” he says, trying his best to sound nonchalant. They play for another hour and then Keith yawns, saying he has to work early tomorrow. Lance bids him goodnight, then manages to wait until he’s brushed his teeth and gotten ready for bed before hitting the “follow” button on Keith’s twitter, @k_redlion. He then opens discord on his phone and goes to the chat with Hunk.

LanceyLance: HUNK HE SAID I COULD FOLLOW HIS LOCKED TWITTER LanceyLance: HUNK LanceyLance: SEND HELP

When Lance wakes up, all he’s gotten from Hunk is a few party popper emojis. He checks to see if Keith accepted his request and he totally did. Lance spends a half hour just scrolling through the mysterious secret twitter, and Keith wasn’t lying. It’s just photos of motorcycles in progress, his dog, occasionally Keith taking an adorable selfie with Kosmo. Sometimes a photo of a sunrise. He checks Keith’s profile and sees his birthday is in late October and Lance has to laugh. Of course he’s a Scorpio. Of course. Keith has less than 40 followers and Lance sort of feels blessed.

He manages to stop himself from liking a five month old tweet where Keith is smiling up at the camera with Kosmo out cold on his lap. Just barely.

July finally hits and it’s disgustingly hot, but it’s always Lance’s favorite month for several reasons:

More excuses to get ice cream,

More excuses to hit the beach,

It’s his birthday month,

It’s the month of Harborville Pride.

Pride comes first and Pidge is excited too, because the college town of Harborville might not have much to offer other than the university, but it definitely knows how to put on Pride. The city park becomes crammed with people for days, food trucks lining the streets with picnickers and grills and ultimate frisbee (which Lance is no slouch at). The marina becomes packed with boats. Most importantly, it means Hunk is coming into town for the weekend, so Lance will get to hang out with his two best friends like they used to - stay up late, watch movies, stuff themselves on junk food and Hunk’s homemade cookies.

The day of the parade (the first one, anyway) is a Saturday morning. Lance and Pidge wake up Hunk from where he’s camping on the sofa and they all get dressed, Lance in his blue, pink, and purple sleeveless shirt, Pidge in her black, white and purple hoodie, Hunk in his pink, yellow, and blue tee. Pockets stuffed with small cash bills for funnel cakes and hot dogs, they set off for the town center.

The parade is amazing this year and they have a blast. Lance convinces Pidge and Hunk to be in a selfie with him that he posts to twitter with the caption, “Having a blast at Harborville Pride!!” Lance then puts his phone away and doesn’t really check it for the rest of the day, having too much fun with Pidge and Hunk and all his other friends.

He’s exhausted when he comes home, collapsing into bed. He manages to open twitter and check it one last time before he passes out. His notifications blew up, of course, but one sticks out.

@k_redlion liked your photo

He kicks his feet a little. So it’s out there, Keith’s saw the colors he wore. Was it too forward? Did Lance unintentionally broadcast his crush on twitter? Maybe. Who knows how Keith would take that information. Lance passes out with his phone in his hand.

He’s in a queue for a game in Overwatch with Keith when it comes up again. Lance was casually talking about a band he saw at Pride.

“Sounds like fun,” Keith comments. “Pride sucks here. One tiny parade and then everyone just goes home.”

There’s a record scratch in Lance’s brain. Does that mean…?

“You should come here next year,” Lance says as evenly as he can. “Harborville knows how to party.”

He hears Keith huff a laugh. “Maybe.”

Lance sucks so bad after that, missing all his shots and dying more times than ever. He’s too distracted. Keith goes to Pride. What did that mean? It could mean so many things. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, he really, really shouldn’t.

“You okay?” Keith’s voice comes through his headphones. “You’re sort of sucking tonight.”

Lance feels a wave of hot embarrassment wash over him. “Ugh, yeah, sorry. Guess I’m just tired.”

He stops playing after that, saying goodnight to Keith and resisting the urge to scream at Hunk over discord about it.

.

Pidge is taking one of her high level classes over the summer so she can graduate in December, so she has little time to hang out with Lance. So he’s bored. A lot. Work at the cafe has slowed down, the only customers he gets are dying for cold brew coffee. He makes a lot of videos, records a lot of comedy Overwatch material, sings some covers of love songs for his channel.  He goes to the beach a lot and posts selfies on twitter, making sure to showcase himself while also trying to remember that he has a few thousand followers and he should be careful what he posts. Lance starts playing some free games from Game Jolt for his channel and it gets a good response. His birthday is right around the corner, and though it’s on a Tuesday, Pidge promises to take the night off to celebrate with him. Hunk is going to make the drive in too.

He’s scrolling through twitter on a rainy night when Pidge kicked him out of the living room to spread out her study materials. There’s a photo of Keith smiling softly with Kosmo on his feed and Lance takes a minute to appreciate it, the warm lighting complimenting Keith’s ridiculously attractive cheekbones, Kosmo with his giant tongue hanging out as Keith hugs him. It’s adorable and Lance hits the like button immediately. He’s about to keep scrolling when something catches his eye. Lance sits up and taps the photo, using his fingers to zoom in.

There’s a rainbow bracelet on Keith’s wrist.

It’s almost hidden under Kosmo’s neck fluff but it is absolutely a rainbow, exactly the kind you’d get at Pride and Lance is about to hit the ceiling. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it? They’d talked about Pride like three days ago and Keith liked a photo of Lance in his bi shirt and holy shit. Was this a hint? Lance already liked the photo. He could take it back, but he didn’t want to?

Lance rolls around on his bed clutching his phone to his chest for the next ten minutes before opening discord to gush at Hunk yet again. Hunk, apparently, is getting fed up.

Hunk: omg just talk to him!! LanceyLance: i cANT Hunk: Lance you know I love you but this is painful to watch, just ask him out already. please. for me?

But Lance is scared. What if he’s reading too much into this? What if he’s only seeing a connection because he wants there to be one? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s made that blunder, cringing as he remembers Nyma and the huge falling out that resulted from Lance charging in head first. He couldn’t even repair their friendship after that.

He didn’t want to risk losing Keith, too.

.

July is winding down and it’s almost time for his favorite birthday tradition: an all-day charity livestream. This will be the third year he’s done them, and he’s expecting the response to be even better this year. It takes him a while to decide on a charity - he’s done a children’s hospital, first responders, local charities. Lance spends days trying to decide when it hits him. The next day, he makes the announcement tweet:

Lance! @LancyLance • 2m Hey guys!! Doing a birthday charity livestream on Saturday 7/25, 10am-10pm to benefit Disabled Veterans National Foundation! Will be playing Overwatch, Risk of Rain, Apex Legends and more!!

He goes about his day, feeling pleased. Later he checks twitter and sees that Shiro has retweeted his announcement with a comment, “Make sure to check out my buddy’s livestream next week! This charity means a lot to me.”

And wow does that make his day.

For the next week it’s business as usual. Work at the cafe (his latte art is getting better, but Lance keeps photos of that work sequestered on Instagram), recording videos, singing in Overwatch, playing games with Keith and Hunk. Lance can tell that Hunk is trying to push him to make a move on Keith, but he’s still reluctant. Keith hasn’t really indicated that he’s interested in Lance at all. Sure, they’re casual with each other, but there hasn’t been anything he could classify as “flirting.” Even though he’s opened up, Keith is still stoic as hell and Lance hasn’t figured out how to crack him.

It’s the Saturday of his livestream and Lance is loaded up with snacks, drinks, and everything he needs. He’s set up his room to have a fun backdrop and did his full skincare routine to make sure he looks good for the webcam, he even borrowed some fancy diffuser lights from a friend.

The stream starts and he gets about 30 viewers in the first hour, which is a good start. By noon he’s up to 400 which is insane, and the donation counter keeps going up. He set his goal to a thousand, and it’s looking like he’ll reach it before dinner. Lance takes song requests from viewers and has more than one laughing fit. When he gets into an Overwatch game, he’s thrilled to see Keith there, and shoots him a quick text to make sure it’s cool for Lance to point him out.

Keith (2:18): yeah it’s cool

So Lance introduces Keith and his chat goes nuts. Apparently Keith is crazy popular and Lance can’t help but notice how many declarations of “omg Keith is so hot” are scrolling past. They play a few serious rounds where Keith dominates everyone, then Lance creates a custom server with no cool down time on abilities and zero gravity. He uses it as an opportunity to do more comedy songs. Lance takes a short break, and when he comes back, Keith has signed off. There’s a text on his phone from Keith reading “gotta work on some stuff.”

He’s in voice chat later when some girls come on with mics and they know his channel. They’re thrilled to be in a game with Lance.

“Lance! I love your videos!”

“Sing a song for me, Lance!”

“Lance, I love you! Marry me!”

He laughs at the last one, playing his guitar. It’s not the first time he’s gotten a mock marriage proposal in a game. “Sorry, ladies,” he answers, strumming on his guitar. “I’m afraid my heart is spoken for.” He’s talking about his massive crush on Keith, of course, but no one needs to know that.

There’s some “aww” and “boos” but they don’t actually sound hurt, so Lance keeps going. He switches to Apex Legends which he’s spectacularly bad at, but he still  has fun. By seven that evening, they’ve met their goal of one thousand dollars, but Lance encourages people to keep donating.

He’s exhausted by the end of it, but at 9:50pm Lance does his exit speech, thanking everyone who donated, thanking his friends who played with him, and taking a second to thank Keith by name. He hopes Keith is still watching.

Lance falls into his bed and sends a quick text to Keith to thank him. He doesn’t get a response.

.

CONTINUED IN PART 4

[forlornmelody]

Kord Center Mall: Curiosity

Rating: T (no smut, just lots of angst)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Rose Wilson/Cassie Sandsmark, Rose Wilson/Jason Todd

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:  After her fight with Jason, Rose is willing to move on to anything or anyone who can get her mind off of him. And Cassie seems good enough. What could go wrong?

Note: This is a cross over, mall-verse AU concocted by @scifi-ginger and myself. You’ve been warned. Also, I have a lot of disclaimers for this one. Cause. Firstly,  Cassie doesn't get a good look in this one. Turn back now if that puts you off. Also, Rose has some not-nice thoughts about sexual identity labels, and they do not reflect my views on labels, kay? She's kind of in denial at this point. *cough* It's called a character arc, Susan.

–>–>

Rose hasn’t slept well in a week. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees the hurt on Jason’s face, and it makes her heart pound. He’s better off--You’re better off, this way. This way no one gets hurt. Except he’s hurt already. The times when she does fall asleep, she dreams of holding hands at the Wayne Estate, nursing him back to health when he’s sick, crying on his shoulder when her dad doesn’t show again. Each time Rose wakes up in a sweat, and then her brain won’t shut the fuck off. 

Thank the Great Whatever for punching bags. Let Joey meditate and mouth his mantras--sometimes punching is the only thing that calms her mind. With each hit--the synapses connect, her blood flows where it’s supposed to, and her muscles relax. Rose hits and hits and hits, sometimes throwing in a kick for good measure, until she’s too gassed to stand. Then she sits on a bench and stares out the window as the world starts to make sense again. Maybe the endorphins make it easier. Maybe her body’s too exhausted to let her brain overthink, but Rose realizes something after her second round of cardio. 

Rose wants more. 

Before, and maybe now still, Rose figured romance, real, true, love, was something ashamed people made up to feel better about what and who they did in bed. Joey, in his typical Marches-In-The-Pride-Parade-And-Has-Fucked-Every-Color-Of-The-Rainbow fashion, labeled her aromantic, or maybe demiromantic. Rose shrugged off the label and continued fucking whomever she pleased--let others worry about what to call her. She was Rose Fucking Wilson and she did what she wanted. Ugh. Her older brother probably has a label for whatever this is, too. 

So, what does Rose Wilson want, exactly?

Well. 

Jason Todd, obviously, as usual. But Rose wants Jason in more than Just-The-Guy-I-Fuck-Around-With-Sometimes way. She wants to hold his hand when they’re out in public, wants to make him chicken soup from scratch, she wants to be held--not just when he’s thrusting in and out of her and making her scream. And Rose already fucked that up. 

So, what is Rose to do?

Well. 

There’s Cassie Sandsmark--the girl Rose has fucked more than once. More than usual, recently. To the point where her friends keep asking Rose what’s going on--and her usual shrugs and suggestive eyebrow waggles don’t seem to cut it. Maybe Cassie is still real fucking annoying, but she’s also kind of...charming? Fun to look at, at least. What the hell. Rose has no idea how this love thing is supposed to work, so maybe Cassie will work. 

At least, that’s what Rose keeps repeating to herself as she waits for Cassie to show up for their shift. 

“Someone pee in your coffee?” The sound of Cassie’s voice makes Rose jump in her seat. 

“No,” Rose says shortly. All those lines she rehearsed in the last ten minutes? Gone. 

“No really. What’s up?” Cass plops down in the seat next to hers, bumping their knees together. 

“You look nice.” Well, she did. But why did Rose just say that out loud?

“Okay. Who are you and what have you done with my…?” Girlfriend? “...desk mate?”

Rose shakes it off. “You busy later?”

“Mm. Depends. Why?” Cassie does that thing where she twists her pencil into her hair, and now it makes Rose melt instead of cringe.

What the actual fuck is happening? To me? “I was thinking I could make you dinner. Or something.” Smoooth.  “Your place?”

Cassie’s eyebrows rise to the ceiling. “Sounds...different.” She pulls out her phone, thumbing through her text messages. “Yeah. Sure. Mom’s still out of town on a dig.”

Rose probably looks too eager, but she can’t help it. “Sweet. I’ll be there at 6.” There’s only one problem--she has to act casual for the rest of her shift. The hours drag on, as Rose sits, completely aware of how close Cassie’s chair sits next to hers, how she can just reach over and touch her hair, pull her close, and kiss her until she’s a writhing mess. She plans the menu in her head--starting with drinks and working backward. Cassie probably likes wine more than beer, right? Or is she more into the cheap shit the older kids keep smuggling into her parties? 

“Uh, excuse me?” Rose looks up, meeting the eyes of a disgruntled soccer mom in overpriced yoga pants and a matching crop top. She holds a mat in one hand and a designer thermos in the other. “Where’s the hot yoga?”

“Down the hall, second door on your left.” Rose says automatically, heat rising to her cheeks. Shit. Could she tell? Could she smell the want radiating off her body? Soccer Mom moves on, and Rose steals a glance at the girl who’s stolen her heart. She’s halfway through her inbox, labeling and responding to emails in triaged fashion, seemingly unaware of Rose’s gaze. 

Stir fry would work. Everyone loves stir fry, right? 

->->->

Hours later, Rose stands in Cassie’s kitchen, making her dinner and daydreaming about making her dessert. The peanut sauce simmers on the backburner, and the curves of Cassie’s thighs boil in front of Rose’s mind. She rehearses her speech over and over.

Hey, I think I really like

You’re really awesome and

What do you think about being girlfriends?

Cassie wraps an arm around her, and Rose jumps out of her skin. “You’re really jumpy today.”

Rose swallows, hoping the heat of the stove excuses the redness in cheeks. “I have a lot on my mind.”

Leaning closer, Cassie chews her grin. “Oh, like what?” Close enough to kiss. 

“Heh, yeah. Something like that.” Their noses brush, and Rose swears she can taste her already. 

Just as Rose’s lips brush Cassie’s, she jerks back. “Is something burning?”

Rose’s eyes widen, shoving Cass out of the way. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

->->->

Cassie has devoured half her plate before Rose finally blurts it out. Rose tries taking a bite, but it tastes like wet papier-mâché and goes down her throat like gravel. 

“Cassie?”

She looks up at Rose, and Rose drops her fork. “Yeah?”

“Want to be my girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Cassie shoves another bite in her mouth, narrowing her eyes. 

Shit. Fuck. Rose takes a breath, trying to slow the hammering in her ears. “I think...I know. We’ve. Fu--slept together a few times. And you’re actually really nice so…” Waving her hands in vague gestures, Rose watches for Cassie’s reaction. 

She smiles. Then she laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Rose.”

Rose holds her breath, and every tick of Cassie’s grandfather clock takes an eternity to strike. 

Cassie shakes her head, chuckling a little. “This...I mean. I’m not really interested in girls that way.”

What little Rose managed to eat churns in her stomach. 

The girl across from her softens, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Don’t get me wrong. The sex is great.” She smiles. “Girls are hot. But I only form emotional connections with men.” Her forefinger taps Rose’s knuckles. “Did you still want to? Y’know?”

Don’t. Don’t you dare. “Sure.” The word slips so easily out of Rose’s mouth. 

They fall into bed together easily too. It’s easy to pretend this is all she wants right now. Making Cassie squirm comes as readily as doing algebra. And it feels nice to be touched by her. And if she doesn’t like her, then it doesn’t matter if Jason’s the one she’s thinking about, right? 

Rose doesn’t stay the night.