obscurity

There was too much temper, too much anger, and, stars, Blackfire had tried so hard not to give in to it, because she had plans with what she could do if she was able to finally make convincing amends to Starfire, but somewhere between yelling at Starfire and Starfire’s response, she had passed the point of no return. 

She wasn’t quite sure where that had happened, but what difference did it make? There was no salvaging this now. After all, if she were being really, truly honest Starfire wasn’t the one she wanted an apology from. She wanted an apology from their parents, wanted them to make things right despite only acting in ways that would encourage them to perpetually believe that they had been right in exiling her. 

The only thing she wanted from Starfire was for her to hurt. There was this void, a ceaselessly dark, growing thing that lived square in her chest that she was sure would only recede if Starfire understood what it felt like to hurt as badly as she had been for years. Except, that was rather hard to achieve given everything Starfire was. After all, her temper didn’t even phase Starfire. Starfire just apologized and acted like that would make a difference, like that would ever be enough. It wasn’t. 

It never would be.

“Nowhere,” she returned, the word a ground-out manifestation of hatred, dripping in it. “Nowhere with you, little sister. You say sorry like it means something, like any of your words mean anything and they don’t. They don’t fix anything.”

Her hands were still enveloped in a purple glow and on an impulse she found herself ready and willing to use that. A momentary focus on the floor had her directing coalesced purple beams at a spot not much farther down the hall from them, obliterating the floor into shatterings of marble and dust. Without hesitating, she stepped into the cloud of destruction and then launched herself into air so that she could float down the hole to whatever was a floor below them.

Still, she paused for a moment and hovered in mid-air, unsure and uncaring whether Starfire could see her, long enough to make one threat, “Follow me and you will be the thing I destroy next.”

Now a floor lower, she took advantage of the chaos so slip through the hall and into another room. Hopefully, her destruction would draw enough attention elsewhere that Starfire would get entangled in it or in seeing their parents who would no doubt drop everything to greet their favorite daughter and see to her well-being once news traveled that she was home and there was new wreckage within the palace. 

Surely, that’d be long enough for her to find a way to cool off and then get the hell out of here.

Starfire did not respond well to being yelled at, or to anger, as part of her could not help but flinch. Physical combat and active battle were easier for her than engaging in a screaming match, especially when she could not understand what she had done wrong ;  what had she done to receive such vitriol . . . from her own sister?? 

“They don’t fix anything” 

But she was trying to do exactly that — to repair the damage that had torn apart their family and stripped away her sister’s proper royal title. They were princesses, they belonged to this planet and deserved the chance to return as it was their given birthright. Starfire was only trying to help, to piece together old memories and hope that they were enough to bring everyone back together. It . . . hurt, those words hurt her. More than the purple glow that was blooming from the brunette’s hands or the threats that followed. 

“You say sorry like it means something, like any of your words mean anything and they don’t.”

Despite that, she smiled through it all, even if the emotion behind her eyes dulled for a second as she called out, “Blackfire, please wait— !!” It was too late, her sister soared out of the room, leaving behind destruction and chaos. Starfire hesitated, unsure if she should follow her sister or assess the repairs that needed to be examined. She chose the latter, hovering over the spot in the hallway which had been shattered from purple ultraviolet beams. Her sister always did have perfect aim, noticing the way the marble crumbled, unable to fully withstand the heat. At this rate, there would be a gaping hole in the floor . . . 

Starfire felt overwhelmed — she wanted to fix the damage, knowing that she could not easily cover it up either ( hiding it from curious eyes ). It was physical proof of how broken they had been . . . and she could not stand it. The red haired titan was so caught up in her own panic that she hardly noticed the footsteps that were rushing towards her, her eyes glancing up to find the shocked faces of guards and maids alike. Even more surprising were the people that followed behind them, the royal king and queen of Tamaran. Her parents!! 

“Mother, Father!!” she greeted, rushing towards them for a crushing hug. They reciprocated the contact, even if they pulled away with expressions that were full of concern. Of course, she did not have to explain much, mentioning Blackfire while watching their faces drop in response. And that is when she felt it again, that ache, the one she tried so hard to ignore. Were they wrong in being afraid?? Or was her sister wrong for openly attacking them in the past?? Starfire did not know . . . and she suddenly missed the titans ( missed the other family that understood her intentions ). 

“It is fine!!” Starfire explained, not sure if she was trying to convince herself or her parents. “She was only upset because I suggested that I could, perhaps, join her on her travels . . . but she is still here!!” Her parents looked sternly at the guards, their following command now ringing inside her ears: find her. Of course . . . of course they needed to find her dear sister!! How could they have a proper family reunion without her?? She watched all the palace workers disperse, as if they were preparing for some type of battle. Or perhaps they were frantic because both princesses had returned home without notice?? She assumed it was the latter. 

Starfire decided to assist with the search as well, pretending it was a grand game of hide-and-seek. She flew all over the top floors, not finding her sister anywhere in the rooms. How strange . . . could she have gone out of the palace?? Into the market somewhere?? The redhead landed near the gardens instead, noticing how eerily quiet it had been despite the flowers that were in bloom. There was a fountain in the middle, one which she could not reach as a child. She would ask Blackfire to hoist her up, eager to touch the cold water and see what was on the inside. 

It was only then that she remembered Blackfire pushing her over the ledge, nearly drowning her. 

She shook her head, shoving the memory aside. They were only playing, they were only children. Blackfire did not mean to do it, she did not — 

And then her eyes widened, finally spotting her sister. Her sister who had purple glowing hands and stood over something . . . someone?? The body on the floor was not moving, covered in blood, as she could not recognize their face — for how could she?? They were wearing a guard’s mask. Starfire felt her stomach churn, disbelieving the sight, even if the evidence stood proud over the deceased victim. Blackfire . . . attacked one of the guards?? Killed one of them?? 

Her vision started to blur as tears suddenly fell onto her cheeks. She felt disillusioned, the picture of a happy family reunion cracking in front of her own eyes. Death. Her sister had killed someone, killed someone who worked in the palace ( someone who was meant to protect it ).

Starfire’s tactless exclamation simply made Blackfire freeze for a moment, more to contemplate the sheer stupidity of the thing than for shock. It had long been clear that Starfire knew plenty about her antics and crimes but seemed supremely unconcerned about all of them. That wasn’t where her surprise found itself. Instead, it was more that she could not imagine any situation in which anyone would appreciate—or necessarily allow, if they were to take place in these walls, considering she wasn’t even supposed to be here in the first place—Blackfire teaching Starfire how to better embody the criminal element.

Wasn’t The Teen Titans as an organization entirely counter to that?

“Starfire, it would bore you to tears,” she said, offering a kinder demure that she wanted to, trying to find some patience with this venture. She still didn’t know what Starfire was hoping to get out of this, but she was growing more and more impatient with this as the moment continued; yes, Starfire was humoring her, giving her a stake in this by letting her choose where they went, but that was the problem.

Starfire was letting her. It had nothing to do with power and everything to do with kindness and she couldn’t stand it. The idea crawled under skin leaving an itch in its wake and she didn’t know how to quite the irritation when Starfire wore rose-colored glasses and missed the malice in everything she said.

“I’m not trying to be,” Blackfire countered next, on the topic of sneaky behavior, “It probably just seems that way in comparison to you.” This was a more overt prick at Starfire than most others she had issued today and she still didn’t think it would make a difference. Starfire would probably simply nod and admit to the truth, unbothered by having her own failure pointed out to her.

It was insufferable.

So was almost everything about this situation. Contrary to Starfire, she didn’t waste much time continuing to linger over the picture and wandered a little further down the hallway as Starfire continued to reminisce and considered the entirely low-stakes dare offered to her. This was a good move for several reasons, one of the largest being that it was infinitely easier to roll her eyes when she was a little farther away and consequentially didn’t need to hide it. After all, it was harder not to roll her eyes than it was to do it when Starfire spoke on the magic of change.

Yeah, it was magic all right. Only, Starfire meant that in a good way and Blackfire could think of not a single good thing change had brought her, except perhaps freedom of a kind she never would have known being Tamaran’s princess and heir. 

She made a sound that was meant to indicate vague agreement rather than try to find the words to falsely do so or worse yet, explain her dissatisfaction with the situation. Contrary to the belief of some (probably), she did have a heart, but she wasn’t about to start bearing it for Starfire to see. There was almost nothing she wanted to do less.

But, if she had been annoyed or upset by anything that Starfire had said before, the lighthearted comment about being her accomplice was a new level of the thing. Starfire continued to talk and reminisce and Blackfire barely heard her; instead, she was too busy caught in a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to successfully contain her now heated temper in an attempt to not do what she was tempted toward.

She failed and therefore whirled back to face Starfire and stepped closer her. “Fuck the playroom. You are not, and  never will be my accomplice.” The words were hissed out, eyes flashing with a form of temper, as hands curled to fists and glowed a faint purple. “You act like the things I’ve done and the things I might do are a game and they are not. Little sister, grow up.”

She had always been the better fighter—despite a loss or two when outside forces involved themselves—and right now, she would not be wholly opposed to mounting another match in these hallways.

Memories were precious little things — and most of Starfire’s seemed to be painted in rose gold. They were untouchable, blinded by optimism and a longing for the past. The photo, which she held so delicately in her arms ( afraid that it might break, might shatter ) resembled all of that. It was a tragically erased past that she could not seem to fully accept, fully understand. For how could they, princesses of this wonderful planet, end up so torn apart, so utterly dissimilar?? She supposed that would be normal for most siblings, but sometimes the gap between her and her sister seemed … like an endless abyss. One that Hamlet’s Ophelia must have drowned herself within. Yet they were not a tragedy — no, no they were a fairy tale in progress!! 

And fairy tales were supposed to have happy endings, were they not?? 

Starfire giggled, ensuring, “oh dear sister, nothing about you could ever bore me!!” 

There certain traits of Blackfire that she did not, and could not, possess. Perhaps that is why she was so drawn to her sister, always chasing her shadows even as a little child. Elder siblings, for the most part, are supposed to set an example for younger ones. It was the reason she was so eager to please, so eager to follow behind her sister’s footsteps. The court officials thought it was adorable how they used to play together, how they were almost two peas in a pod!! 

Growing up, however, caused their similarities to shift into differences. They preferred different colors, different hobbies, different jobs. While Starfire tried her best to understand her sister . . . the past blinded her, so did their doting relationship from once upon a time. Which is why she could not see that the same happiness and joy that the palace brought to her . . . was the exact opposite for her sister. The outburst was sudden, much like the romanticized facade of a happy family chipping away in front of her very own eyes. 

The redhead found herself feeling confused, apologetic even. “Oh . . . I am sorry, I did not intend to upset you!!” she insisted, her gaze filled with concern. “I am simply used to working in teams because of the titans, I — I did not mean to undermine you and your occupation!!” 

Starfire did not sense hostility from the dark-haired tamaranean, for she could not accept hostility from her own sister. It did not seem feasible, no matter how many times she had encountered attacks and manipulation. Everything always lent itself to an excuse, to a reasoning as to why Blackfire treated her in such a manner. 

‘She does not mean it!!’ Starfire once argued with her team. ‘She is simply different!!’ 

Different, villainous, dangerous. Were you not supposed to accept all of your family’s flaws?? Is that not what love is?? Surely, if she could get her parents to understand — to see that Blackfire is not entirely evil — then they could be whole again!! 

Since meeting Grace, there had always been some kind of base wanting and how could there not be? Grace was attractive and though this Grace lacked the innocence Renee also found compelling ( insofar as she liked the idea of ruining it ) it did little to minimize the effect of the first. She’d contented herself with friendship when it became apparent there was no other option, but that hadn’t changed her interest.

Now with the truth out in the open, their dynamic had shifted entirely and Renee had to admit that it felt freeing to finally allow herself that desire without bounds. In her twelve decades at Belial’s side, she’d become well-practiced with her indulgences. As such, Renee wasn’t particularly good at limitations nor was she fond of denial.

As Grace spun about for her, Renee—again—let herself openly appreciate Grace, though she couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself at the obvious satisfaction Grace now had via radical revelation and freedom.

It was off-topic and absolutely a fleeting thought considering what was before her, but it made her all the more certain that Grace—the real one, that was—would make such a Sinner, that was if Renee could just convince her to switch.

There was a momentary temptation to discard all of Grace’s suggestions, to tell Grace to get on her knees and put that mouth of hers to good use. If she were dealing with the other Grace, the real Grace, this wouldn’t be something she’d seriously consider for even a moment, but the woman in front of her wasn’t a former Disney princess. She was a creature made of something beyond Heaven or Hell and Renee sincerely doubted there was much she could say or do that would shock her. Or shock her much.

Only, that was rushing and there hardly seemed a point in that, least of all when this Grace promised to be creative in a fashion that would undeniably please. Though Renee—undeniably—liked to be in charge in any and all contexts, she also happened to like the idea of letting Grace reveal herself in the fashion of her choosing. There was a vague awareness this was likely because it was similar—in some twisted way—to what Belial had once done with her and it always came back to replication.

“Dealer’s choice, darling,” Renee returned as Grace teased her, “You offered to entertain me, so make a choice and do it.” Perhaps this was a challenge, the only one that mattered, a subtle way of saying: show me what you are.

She liked a challenge, especially when her ‘be darling like your doppelganger’ bargain was starting to get far too boring. Sure, the original Grace might’ve saved her from doom but pretending to be an angel was almost torturous. It went against her entire being — the situational irony almost laughable. How had she been roped into such a deal, such a facade? Perhaps that darling Grace was far more clever than anyone gave her credit for. The brunette saw an opportunity and took advantage of it. Meanwhile, the double? Well, this wasn’t the smartest move on her part. 

The double lived on impulses instead, the worst kind. Selfishness being one of them, the emotion unearthing when Grace initially offered the double her luxurious lifestyle on a platter. Saying yes to the whole contract had been the easy part, saying no to whatever that followed wasn’t. The neighbor-next-door being off limits was one of those clauses that proved to be difficult to adhere — until now, until she didn’t have to anymore. There was something about Renee that was entirely too hard to resist. It might’ve been the fact that she ran with demons, she played with them. And oh, how the double desperately missed the feeling of hell ( of untamed chaos ). 

More than that, she liked Renee, she liked a woman in power and control ; liked it even better when they fell upon their knees. Toying with the Vice was its own special thrill. Of course, that game was now changing its course. If the neighbor wanted to be entertained, who was she to deny that request? It wasn’t like Grace was here, telling her a list of dos and don’ts. 

“Strip tease it is, then,” the double responded, smirking. Given that they were in a dressing room, it wouldn’t be odd to find her fully naked. That is, if any of the employees bothered to check on what was taking them so long. The many perks of being rich meant that you weren’t bothered, not over such little concerns. 

“The Disney princess is on vacation, in case you were concerned,” Grace explained, taking a few steps back, which wasn’t much given the size of this dressing room. “And I’m stuck being her for those paparazzi cameras and curious onlookers alike.” 

Now all the cards were out on the table, the truth dangling between them, much like the sultry bra which she unhooked and dropped onto the floor. Her arm covered her chest, because while there was no point in appearing modest, Grace also remembered that this was a strip tease. Not a strip show. Not that she was opposed to the latter idea either. 

Blair asked and asked and they doubted Blair quite meant for it to come across the way it did, but the more Blair asked, the more cornered Camilla felt, not because of the questions themselves. No, it was more the fact that Blair was asking all the questions that mattered, all the ones they both knew could be answered with a simple yes. 

Only, they couldn’t say yes. They wanted to so badly, but the word was stuck in their throat and it seemed hopeless to think anything might change that. Perhaps there was only salvation in that they could manage to say anything at all.

“Why do you think I took a dare I knew I’d lose?” they asked quietly, “Why do you think I picked the one thing you’d never allow to happen as consequence for winning on my side or insisted it had to be me?”

They weren’t stupid, they had known exactly what they were doing with all of it: incentivizing Blair to win more so than just for the sake of it because they’d been trying to make Blair choose to make all the moves that mattered most so they didn’t have to, because they couldn’t, because they were scared, because they were too plagued by ghosts and not uninhibited enough to just do it and…

There were a dozen different reasons but what it summed down to was Blair was the brave one and they were just a perpetually haunted disaster.

And maybe that wasn’t fair, but it was all the same.

“I can’t do this,” Camilla said abruptly, a form of honesty, but no doubt not the one Blair would want. “I can’t. It doesn’t matter what I want. Not when I’m—literally—haunted by ghosts that teach me the same lessons over and over and over, not when I owe the coven everything and have been named its future.” Their gaze searched Blair’s then, looking for some ounce of understanding, even as they doubted they would find it. Blair had made it clear she lived for herself and hated the responsibilities that had brought her back. How could she understand what it felt like to believe you owed so much of yourself to others that you could never escape? 

Only the longer they looked at Blair, the more they felt compelled to own some aspect of themself. After all, this bar was one of the very few safe places in Bellflower that Camilla had. 

“But if you want me to be honest, Blair, you’re right. I wanted you to—” They paused a moment, cheeks suddenly heated by a blush because they weren’t half so comfortable with the bluntly explicit way Blair put everything, that their thoughts were still shockingly matched to it, or that they had to find the words. “Fuck me that night. I still do.” This confession was softly said with a degree of stilted hesitance and there was a part of them that could hardly believe they said this at all. “But I meant what I said too.” She shrugged helplessly. “And I don’t know what to do anymore.” 

When push comes to shove, anything was possible ; much like Camilla quietly admitting that they would’ve liked that night to go a certain way. Hell, the whole situation was so amusing that it took all of Blair’s already limited control to resist laughing at the absurdity of it all. Just when she thought she was doing the right thing, the responsible thing — it backfired on her. Fucking perfect, wasn’t it? This was the last time she would be doing that again: being thoughtful. 

Or maybe she had it all wrong, maybe Camilla didn’t want thoughtfulness ; maybe they wanted a night to let loose, to forget about the coven and the politics of it all. Either way, Blair could indulge in that — the debauchery, the scandal, the flames. She thrived in all this, persuading, “so you planned it out from the beginning? Clever girl.” But Camilla wasn’t a girl, they were a witch. A pretty witch, whose dark locks seemed to curl around her fingers. 

It was intimate, it was close ( but not close enough ). 

“You’re thinking too much,” Blair noted, challenging them. “I mean, if you want to talk about what the coven won’t let you do? We can be here for hours, unpacking all of that. But that’s the reason why you accepted the bet, isn’t it? I think we both know you need to let loose and who to do it with. In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m volunteering.” 

If Blair was just a means to an end, she could accept that ; the blonde had done that to people herself, used them for a night of fun. Sometimes it was easier that way, the lack of commitment and the fire on her skin making it all worthwhile. The witch hadn’t expected the brunette to have the same approach but, who was she to judge? Camilla could’ve been fucking her entire coven for all Blair knew — it would make sense given how they were so protective of the heiress. Of the poor heiress who merely wanted nothing to do with the weight on their shoulders. Blair could give them a massage if that’s the case, the thought causing her to nearly smirk. 

“Well, you doing anything tonight? Because I have all the free time in the world, y’know.” 

They reached the balcony and for a moment, Blackfire turned her back on Starfire, wrapped her hands about the balcony’s rail and tried to forget she was there. Eyes slid shut and her

For a moment, just one moment, she could pretend that her life was the way it was supposed to be. She could enjoy the sounds of Tamaran, the way the air smelled, and how grounded she felt here, like this. For this fleeting instant, the tension disappeared and she was who she’d once been: the Tamaranian princess with a bright future and everything to hope for.

Only that fantasy didn’t include Starfire and her loud whisper interrupted it. There wasn’t exactly a surprise in this; Blackfire couldn’t count the number of times she’d come out here to hide and imagine, to find control in one place she’d made her own only to be bothered by the one person who would expend effort to find her here. 

With a sigh, she went where summoned to see what Starfire wanted and took in the excited revelation with more pleasure than she showed. “How… lucky,” she returned, flatly, at Starfire’s revelation. It wasn’t Starfire’s fault exactly, but this was just another example of how everything worked out for her dear, darling little sister. Technically, in this situation, it worked just as well for her, but her world view was predisposed toward a certain axis and this regard fitted toward it well. 

Still, she didn’t expect what followed. Normally, she was the one to break and shatter. True, Starfire was as much—if not more—reckless than she was, on the occasion, but typically, Starfire’s recklessness didn’t include willful destruction. She kind of liked it, but it was also much too little, much too late if it was meant to bind them together.

As Starfire claimed, it was a straight shot from the balcony to the playroom, and that certainly was appreciated, but the pleasure at simplicity was marred by Starfire’s comment. It wasn’t that Blackfire expected Starfire not to know about her crimes. It was only that she made light of it. “No, Starfire, I do that with a lot more planning and care.”

This was absolutely reckless, but who could be surprised? The world was awfully kind to Starfire; when had she ever worried about consequences?

She started down the hallway, toward their intended destination, slightly worried that the sound of Starfire’s destruction would bring guards even as there were none here presently, but Starfire apparently didn’t see a need to rush; easily distracted as she was, it was practically predictable that Starfire got hung up on a photo of them as children.

Blackfire shrugged a shoulder, not half so prone to sentimentality as Starfire or in the same way. “We were little,” she returned, figuring that was the nicest thing she could think to say. After all, wasn’t that the most fundamental truth? That little children were cute no matter their mistakes? 

It was only when she’d gotten a little older than they’d been in that photo that everything stopped being forgiven. 

“So do it,” she returned, a laconic dare considering the stakes were low. “Take the photo. I’m sure Mother and Father would happily give it to you if you asked anyway. I’ve never known them to deny you anything.” There was a bit of bitter emphasis that she couldn’t seem to hide embedded in the sentiment, considering she’d been denied plenty, but Blackfire wasn’t so sure it’d matter. Negativity seemed to just go over Starfire’s head.

“You must tell me how you infiltrate heavily guarded facilities!!” Starfire exclaimed, always curious about her sister’s ongoing whereabouts. It was not that she did not know her sister was a criminal . . . but she chose to ignore that fact and focus on other positive aspects!! For Starfire, her sister’s rebellious streak seemed to be a mere moment of passion ― a villainous phase of some sorts. Perhaps that is why she never took it too seriously, neither the threats or the heartbreak. It was much easier to gloss over those things when she had crafted a happy ending inside her own head. 

One where they would be together, as a family, and mimicking the very photo that was held in her hands.

“You are so sneaky!!” she noted, giggling. Amongst the titans, the tamaranean princess was not the most stealthiest nor the most aware of such combat techniques. Robin definitely was highly trained in that aspect, always surprising her with his unexpected entrances. Raven proved to be nearly the same, disappearing through the walls and emerging from the shadows. Even Beast Boy could show off his fair share of ninja-like abilities with the way he could morph into tiny critters, hiding in plain sight. As for the redhead, she already stood out too much given her stark differences from humans. 

Perhaps that was part of the reason why she thought Blackfire would have been a better titan ; her sister already possessed so many lucrative skill sets. She would have made a great addition to the team . . . even if Starfire would have left as a result. Of course, that whole encounter had ended much differently, and it was an ending that she preferred to breeze over ― for surely, her sister did not mean to frame her!! There were many things about Blackfire that she could compartmentalize, yet the happy memories from a long forgotten past were not one of them. 

“We were, we were so adorable!!” she proclaimed, smiling. “And now we have grown so much, is it not magical how much we have changed??” 

There were so many changes to marvel upon . . . even if most of them were not good, most of them felt hard to grasp ( and she could not catch them, could not hold them close ). The training and competition that was encouraged by the warlords of Okaara were one memory, but the rest seemed . . . to be unreal. To be a fracture of reality, difficult to piece together and fully breathe in. Maybe Blackfire did not attack the throne, maybe her parents did not ban her from the planet, maybe it was all a bad dream. Maybe . . . but they were on Tamaran now, they were here, they were together!! So it was silly to focus on such technicalities when there was so much ahead of them ― such as the playroom!! Starfire giggled at her suggestion, “and become your accomplice?? I would be honored!!” At the end of the day, she would do anything to spend time with her sister ; and she would forgive and forget, knowing that passage of time soothed over the messy bumps of the past. The mention of her parents, however, caused her to hug the photo, holding it close to her heart. Her parents, how could she have forgotten about them?? The reigning king and queen of Tamaran were not to be dismissed, not when she loved them dearly. 

“They did spoil us,” Starfire admitted, fondly. “Do you remember all the dinners they allowed us to attend??” Young princesses surrounded by diplomats and officials, ones in charge of molding the laws, of setting a course of stability for the future ; most parents would not allow their children near such tough discussions. The redhead felt thankful, however, that she got to experience the royal lifestyle ― even if she felt more human now, more bonded to the titans. 

There wasn’t much satisfaction in being the thing to be afraid of when denied the intended response. It was a truth Renee knew well, but not because she often stood on this side of things; normally, when she wanted to scare people shitless, it wasn’t exactly a difficult job. Everyone had something or someone to lose, no one wanted to die, and Renee knew how to combine physical force with her words to make it very clear she could—and would—be lethal without blinking.

Only, where Renee assumed Grace would normally crumble—in a hypothetical where she somehow was so unfortunate that she actually pissed Renee off—the double did what she would have: made a point of refusing to be scared. It was an odd thing to watch Grace’s features, to listen to Grace’s voice and see her own perverse understanding of power accompanied by the behaviors she’d adapted to survive and thrive in Belial’s company reflected back at her.

It took a moment of consideration before she decided she rather liked it. It was… beautiful in the same way she’d thought Satan losing his temper on Naomi once was. And thinking like so naturally led to an appreciation for the sentiments being offered, enough so that she ignored the taunting and focused on what interested her: Grace saying, I can entertain you in other ways.

“Oh?” she asked first, voice softening from previous displeasure as something about her very being shifted. Renee might say over and over how much she hated Belial—not that it was necessarily the whole truth—but there were moments she was very much a creature of his making.

This was one of them.

In a fashion just like him, she shifted moods like cards; like it was nothing, like she hadn’t been damn near close and somewhat keen on killing Grace thirty seconds ago, she dropped her hand and let satisfaction replace temperamental displeasure. Assuming Grace didn’t shy away and take three steps backward into some sort of demure apology to compensate for this newest boldness and plain wanting, Renee had no interest in doing all the work murder took.

After all, now that she knew the truth, she was reasonably certain she’d been talking to the double at Cannes, and she’d been fairly plain about what she wanted of Grace then. Annoyance, even annoyance as serious as this had been, didn’t exactly divorce her of those desires.

To humor them in a fashion deliberately indiscreet, seeing as she knew exactly what Grace meant and rather liked the notion, she let her gaze slide downward, finally letting it linger where it ought, which was no great difficulty seeing as this Grace didn’t apparently care half so much for propriety—despite how she’d previously pretended—and was presently standing in front of her in underwear and little else. 

It wasn’t exactly the point, but Renee found herself first registering that Grace was wearing very pretty underwear and appreciating that fact before her thoughts drifted into an appreciation of a different kind.

Long moments later, her gaze found Grace’s face, expression half reflecting that frank admiration, half self-satisfaction. “Well go on then, Grace,” she all but demanded, equal parts obviously expectant and amused. A smirk blossomed then, as she hummed out something of a low laugh, “Entertain me.” 

The hand around her neck dropped, and she couldn’t help but touch herself in the exact same spot ( where the finger imprints should’ve been ). It was difficult to fully mark her, but not impossible. Being a creature of hell meant she wasn’t as fragile as her darling twin, wasn’t as meek. And there were plenty of perks to that — some which were far more physical than others, far more pleasurable. She wondered how far the Vice pushed humans, pushed demons, until they bled. 

Would she bleed ( or even scream )?

What a question, one that nearly made her chuckle. In all these months of playing America’s favorite doll, gore and violence were completely out of her reach. It felt unnatural to remain so innocent, so untouched. There were darker parts of her that were aching to be stretched like taffy candy being pulled by its maker. Malleable in every which way, sickeningly sweet in taste. There was rare beauty in such destruction, in such things that could damn someone to hell. 

Humans tried to hide their inner monsters, bury them six feet underground. However, these carefully crafted appearances still couldn’t change the fact that she was crafted to be Grace. To be someone who, despite all her kindness, did everything to deny her inner wants ; yet the evil double wasn’t going to do that. She had enough of it, enough of acting like she was satisfied with this luxurious lifestyle. 

No, no she rightfully wanted more ( more danger, more indulgence ). 

Renee took a few steps back, letting the space between them linger. It felt purposeful, not that the brunette was complaining. The tension in the dressing room had already felt suffocating, more so than the previous grip around her neck. With all the cards ( and truths ) now out in the open, Grace assumed the game would only continue — even if the tone of it seemed to shift from carnage to seduction. 

She could certainly play this game ; hadn’t that been her intention from the very beginning? To mess with the Vice, wondering how longer they could tango before the inevitable end. Before the Disney princess returned, rightfully claiming her throne in this kingdom of glamour and publicity. 

“You have a mighty touch,” Grace mused, smirking. “I like it.” 

Her hands rested on her waist, giving a slow spin, showing off the expensive undergarments. While the creature of hell may have been bored of her ongoing contract, the sweet starlet certainly had a good selection of clothes. Of course, taking them off was the better half of that enjoyment. 

“Would you like a strip tease? Lap dance?” the brunette asked, teasing. “Did you know that Grace has birthmarks? We have birthmarks. Hidden beneath everything.” 

It was almost like nothing she said made an impact and Renee simply studied Grace for a moment as she offered reassurances, trying to figure out if she was that stupid or if it was simply something that couldn’t quite be branded purely affection nor as purely desire speaking. 

Part of Grace’s value—callous as it was to ascribe one—was in being unreadable, but not for the first time since they’d even started this conversation, Renee wished she had the cheat. She wanted to know Grace was thinking, without having to ask, without going through the trouble of making Grace find the right words. After all, she really did think Grace was quite darling, but expressive notions weren’t exactly the human’s strength; asking after thoughts right now seemed like it was a recipe to get her to blush and stumble, which was attractive, but wholly useless.

“That kind of faith is going to get you in trouble, Grace,” Renee murmured, even as she found herself wondering when was the last time someone even had so much faith in her?

Vaguely, she supposed it had to be Carlisle somewhere within the last century or so because he always had a knack for having faith in her. He always seemed to simply know, with a quiet sort of certainty, that no matter what she did she wouldn’t disappoint him and break the fundamental rules, no matter how many times the others might wonder if she were getting close to something like a breaking point.

If she let herself have Grace would that still be true? She wasn’t sure, but she wished she knew the answer. After all, she knew her siblings weren’t best pleased with this whole situation already, and they’d likely be even less amused if she started openly dating Grace. 

Only, maybe she shouldn’t care. What was the point in living if she didn’t actually live? Wasn’t that why Carlisle had tried his damnedest to find a companion for her in the same way he had Esme and the rest of her siblings had each other? 

All this happened so quickly; by virtue of inhumanity the moments of consideration seemed long for her, but it couldn’t have been more than a beat or two to Grace’s experience before she decided not to care, and let the smirk she’d been suppressing show just a little, “But it’s tempting nonetheless.” 

Gently, again careful to mind her speed, she closed some of the distance between them and tugged Grace toward her to account for and close the rest of it. “Mine,” she said softly, voice tinged with a great amount of possessive satisfaction.

There was a question unspoken that followed: what now? but perhaps that wasn’t for her to decide.

There was a moment, before Blair sat next to them and tried to figure this out, where she just looked at them and in it Camilla let themself return the favor—could they call it a favor if Blair’s was curiosity-tinged and theirs was simply a badly veiled unhappy study?—and let it last as Blair slid into the seat next to her.

Something in them wanted to smile, they could feel a flush made from the pleasure of acknowledgment creep up their neck, but they told themself to stop being ridiculous because this wasn’t about the two of them. This wasn’t anything. It couldn’t be.

After all, when witches practiced openly, they burned (or faced whatever the equivalent of the times might be). All the ghosts and their stories said so. How could Camilla want Blair when Blair insisted on dressing the part, putting together an—attractive—ensemble that all but screamed witch? How could Camilla want Blair when bringing up their mothers was a reminder of one very good reason this, whatever this might be, was impossible?

A frown slid into a place, their gaze shifting from Blair to the drink that rested on the bar and they took a long sip before letting loose a soft groan and saying, “Don’t remind me.” Another pause, before they flicked their gaze back to Blair and divulged something they knew they shouldn’t, “You’ve been a topic of conversation,”—a slight hesitance, before she finished the thought—“within the coven I mean.” It occurred to them belatedly that Blair might misinterpret that—if only because it seemed to give Blair a lot of pleasure to misinterpret the things they said in favor of making them somewhat more suggestive—“Not of my doing. They’re worried. I don’t think any of them like even the idea of you back in town.”

Camilla was accustomed to dealing with the dead, accustomed to the newly dead who sometimes didn’t realize that they were dead, accustomed to so many voices who all wanted to talk to the one living person who could hear them, help them, do them favors, comfort them, listen. Somehow, being all of that didn’t equip them to know what to do with Blair’s ah-ha moment, so to speak. It wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it wasn’t right either and the flush they’d managed to will away and distract themself from returned with a vengeance.

Fuck. Did she have to say it like that? Fuck her. Fuck me. Please.

It took a moment for them to organize their thoughts from the disorganized mix of displeasure and desire, to find words worth saying instead of that last desperate bit of wanting ( and the nature of how explicit it had suddenly proved to be was a new, very different problem they didn’t even know where to start with ) but even once they did, they weren’t exactly… useful.

“Neither,” they protested softly, “I—” They shook their head because they couldn’t say this, couldn’t continue. The wanting was one thing because it was theirs, something locked in the privacy of their own mind. How were they supposed to tell Blair that they weren’t upset Blair had gotten them into bed, that they’d wanted that from the very start, that the reason they were upset was that Blair had stopped? The thought returned again: Fuck me. What if they just said that? Seven words: Blair, I wanted you to fuck me. If they’d been more like Blair that would have been simple. Only they weren’t and it wasn’t and they found themself saying, “forget it, what does it matter?” instead.

“I don’t think any of them like even the idea of you back in town.”

Blair smirked, trying not to let her alleged reputation boost her ego. They — the coven — should’ve been wary ( been afraid ) of her grand return. It was like a lone lion approaching an already established pack, the danger imminent as the fight over territory would surely continue. The witch supposed she didn’t mind the theatrics of it all, even if the rules and decorum were one big snooze fest. Blair wanted to do things her way, which meant not focusing much on the underlying tension at all. 

It was hard too, especially when her rival happened to be rather cute. And tongue-tied at the moment. 

“I hope you spoke good words about me. Y’know, since I got you in bed and all that,” Blair teased, winking. She reached for her beer bottle, taking a long sip. The blonde felt parched after that bet, one that tested her control beyond belief. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Camilla, quite the opposite actually, it was the fact that she didn’t know where to draw the line. Carefree spirits such as her own were considered rowdy in a town like this ; and the last thing she needed to do was add more stress onto the poor ice princess’s plate. 

For once, Blair had done the reasonably responsible thing. Surely, a round of celebratory drinks were waiting with her name on it? Instead, the witch was witnessing Camilla shut down, not really answering any of her questions. Interesting. Their body language suggested aversion. . . shame. . . embarrassment? Blair was confident that her kissing skills weren’t that poor ; and if it was a matter of the bet itself, surely Camilla couldn’t have forgotten that they agreed to the terms and conditions? 

Unless . . . unless the terms and conditions weren’t up to par ( weren’t as physical, as tangible ). The thought nearly caused her to laugh, the grin blooming on her face almost cruel. Maybe she had been wrong about the rivaled witch all along, maybe shy little Camilla had finally grown into a creature that desired the forbidden fruit — one which had been previously bitten by the blonde rebel years ago, highlighting her participation in all things scandalous and sex related. 

“forget it, what does it matter?”

Blair shook her head. “ — oh, of course it does. No one likes to be disappointed, babe.” especially in bed. 

“Tell me, did you dream of me that night? Did you crave for more? And here I thought that I had done you a favor, saved you from a meaningless hookup. Except you wanted more, didn’t you?” 

“You wanted to be fucked, and by all means, you’re more than welcome to ask for it. I’d happily pin you to the bed this time around,” Blair concluded, reaching forward to tuck strand of brunette hair out of the other’s face. The soft action didn’t stop the mischief that burned behind her own eyes, ones that practically teased Camilla to take initiative. To speak plainly and clearly, especially when it came to matters of pleasures. 

If she thought she could get away with it, Blackfire would have dawdled; flight was an easy thing, as natural as breathing, but she had no desire to get where they were going. 

She’d dream of burning the surface of Tamaran to ashes, if only she wasn’t sure, too, that she’d miss it somehow. 

Starfire dreamed of happy reunions and everything—quite literally everything—falling into place in a dreamy sort of echoing of the ideal life she’d always wanted, Blackfire knew it even as her little sister didn’t so explicitly say it. As they traveled, there was something that echoed sorrow, that echoed pity at the thought. The former was a feeling she was all too familiar with, the latter far less so and she didn’t know what to do with it.

Perhaps she was as grateful as she knew how to be for anything when they arrived, when she was freed from the discomfort of a sort of solitude with thoughts and feelings that had come unbidden, of thoughts and feelings she was unfamiliar with and hardly knew what to do with let alone hold comfortably.

Ever the steady presence, the grim shadows to Starfire’s bright enthusiasm and light, she merely withstood her reaction, and spun a slow circle on the roof, taking in a city that had once been the only home she’d ever known and now was the only home she still wanted even she’d been made to leave more than once. Tamaran and it’s capital were wholly NOT for her but she’d never stop wishing it were different. 

“The playroom. The balcony,” she said quietly. For a moment, she indulged an old, favored vision of shoving Starfire from it, as if that might do something, as if they couldn’t fly and she’d hit the ground below thereby ending the problem of her little sister once and for all with an all too satisfying bit of gore. Only, that was a fleeting vision and the truth was, she wanted the balcony because it was the one place she’d ever been in this god-forsaken palace that had felt free to her. Only, she wasn’t going to explain that to Starfire, so she offered no explanation for her desire at all. “I don’t care abut the rest.”

Starfire nodded eagerly at her older sister’s suggestions, knowing that they could successfully navigate towards the playroom once they stepped onto the balcony . . . and then the rest of the palace was for their taking!! It definitely felt as if they were little once more, sneaking through the endless corridors as no one could stop them ; not when this was their birthright!! There would always be a home on Tamaran, no matter how much time and distance had been crossed. Perhaps it was her sheer optimism or hope that kept her flying onward, soaring over the high rooftops until her feet landed on the empty balcony.

Starfire gasped with surprise ( !!! ) ― the view was still, somehow, unchanging from the last time they were both here, standing near the ledge. The memories came rushing back like waves of the ocean, her thoughts lingering to the amount of times she had found Blackfire hiding away on the balcony . . . during parties . . . after training . . . the spot definitely seemed to hold a special place in her dear sister’s heart!! Whereas Starfire hovered closer towards the door, glancing inside. The corridor was empty, which seemed odd . . . had they blocked off access to this part of the palace?? If so, whatever for?? Were they renovating?? She assumed that must have been the case, especially since this section of the palace belonged to her sister ; to all the fun shenanigans that had transpired within these walls.

“Blackfire,” she whispered, calling her sister over. “It seems as if there are no guards stationed on this floor!! We can venture inside with ease, the path to the playroom being not too far from your balcony!!”

Her fingers glowed green, generating enough energy to blast the locked doors open. There were a series of noises that occurred from this action, the loudest being the shattering of glass against the floor. Luckily, no one had been in the vicinity to hear it ( or to get hurt from the impact ). In fact, it was wildly easy to creep inside . . . perhaps this is why her sister found herself more drawn to the criminal side of things!! Trespassing appeared much simpler than having to fight villains on Earth, and frankly, the redhead had never done anything like this before!! She wondered if humans would consider this being in the same criteria as ‘teenage rebellion’, her participation in such suspicious activities appearing out of the blue. Little did anyone know . . . she would have done anything for her sister ; if Blackfire wished to visit the playroom, they had no other choice but to fulfill that wish!!

Starfire giggled, flying inside. “That was much easier than I anticipated, is this how you sneak into planets and steal their most prized possessions??”

Her feet landed on the floor, the rug beneath unchanging with its patterned display. There were not too many stark differences, aside from the lack of presence in this section of the palace. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, since it would allow them to quickly and freely navigate throughout the kingdom. Her emerald eyes landed upon one of the photos that decorated the wall, a picture that depicted them during their childhood years. Both wearing cute gowns, tiaras, and looking directly at whoever captured the memory.

“Ahh, were we not the most cutest little creatures??”

Starfire was so easily pleased and for a moment Blackfire couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be like her. She’d thought about it here and there over the years, mostly with disdain, though sometimes if she were being really honest, there was an element of longing to it. Undeniably, her life would be so different, if she were more like her little sister, if she were so easily pleased, if she were more optimistic. Maybe it would have been better.

However, with the dark cloud brewing around her, the logical conclusion to draw was that no matter how frustrating and difficult and annoying parts of her life now, she’d undeniably be worse for being more like Starfire.

At least she could see things for as they were now, knew that things could go bad easily.

As she thought on that, her fingers emanated a surprisingly gentle purple glow, which she barely noticed except for the heat that came with it. Fingers clenched into fists and the starbolts disappeared; Starfire seemed to notice none of this which was hardly a surprise. Instead, she continued to ramble and then disappeared to do whatever she was going to do so quickly as if she were afraid that if she waited too long Blackfire would change her mind.

It wasn’t a bad fear.

As she waited on Starfire—considering she had no one to notify and nothing to collect before she was ready to go—she thought about disappearing, about running from this; the idea of lying or breaking her word didn’t really bother her seeing as she’d done it before and would do it again. Only, it seemed maybe enjoyable to shove the truth in Starfire’s face by going with her and watching her confront—through more adult eyes—the fact that unlike her, Blackfire would never be forgiven for the mistakes she made, at least not by anyone at home.

And so, when Starfire returned, she simply nodded and found herself acknowledging Starfire’s sentiment with an oddly blasé answer. “Whatever you want, Starfire.”

“Let’s get this over with,” she couldn’t help but mutter.

Without another moment of delay, Starfire found herself soaring through the skies!! Flying higher, and higher, until the city began to disappear and the clouds covered its wonderful high rises. She could still remember the first time she fled towards Earth, called by its colorful blue ocean and green plains. To her surprise, the surface was not like that at all!! It was filled with people, and buildings, and so much splendor!! She could only hope Tamaran would surprise her in the same manner, filling her heart with all sorts of emotions ( especially when they were both returning together!! ). 

The journey was not long, not when you factored in how they were used to flight and lengthy travels. While Starfire considered herself knowledgeable, her sister probably saw more parts of the universe than she could have ever imagined ; Blackfire was always on the run ( as she secretly kept track of her whereabouts ). It was important to know where her family rested, where they could be found. Luckily her parents were guaranteed to be somewhere in the palace. Soon, her family finally would finally be on the same planet, under the same roof!! 

The sheer excitement caused her to pick up speed, her red hair whipping behind her. Once the orange planet was in clear sight, Starfire gasped, “Blackfire, look ― we are almost there!!” almost home!! Closer and closer, the distance decreased as details of Tamaran began to emerge. She could not help but feel overwhelmed, the views of her first home filling her with nostalgia. The memories, the past, the departure . . . all of it happened here!! 

All of it began and shattered ― but it was NOT too late!! Starfire felt strongly that they could, once again, go back to normalcy. They had too, especially when the royal palace greeted them with its tall structures and memorable architecture. She landed on the roof, remembering how their younger selves would try to find avenues of sneaking onto such heights. 

Starfire smiled brightly, squealing, “ ― ahhh!! Is it not still the most beautiful palace??” 

The guards had not noticed the two princesses hovering nearby, oblivious to the impending chaos that brewed in the distance. Meanwhile she could barely contain her own energy, already wishing to haul both her sister and parents into one room ― to commence the reunion that she so desperately awaited!! However, the titan needed to be patient ; needed to live in the moment as it was rare to return home ( with her sister willingly by her side!! ). 

“What should we see first, dear sister??”