April themed challenge.

[merikuru]

Observe our M/March master list below, if you so desire!


Fushigi Yuugi

Tomo/Nakago, "This Is Fine" (by sarajayechan)
Amiboshi/Suboshi, "Going-Away Present" (by sarajayechan) (contains mature content; cw: incest)


April's challenge is:

Apriladies!

Got some girlslash? A lady bromance? Sisters (whether bound by the blood of the battlefield or the water of the womb)? Femmes fatales? This is where it all belongs. Let's have some ladies!

If your work has spoilers, please add an [S] tag to the comment title. If it has mature content, please add an [MA] tag.

This theme challenge will end on April 30th, 11:59 PM Central Standard Time.

Comments

Fushigi Yuugi, Yui/Soi, "A Tense Effort"

[sarajayechan]

"Soi? Can I come in?" Her hands shook and she willed them to be steady; the tray held a steaming bowl and mug and it wouldn't do for them to spill. Not when she'd done her best to ensure the soup would be edible. Being a latchkey kid meant cooking her own meals, but the iron kettle over the fire was a far cry from a stove and a microwave.

"Lady Yui?" The voice sounded surprised, almost wary. "I thought Suboshi told you-"

"That Nakago said you weren't feeling well," Yui finished. "I know...so I thought I'd bring you some soup."

The tent's flap opened, and Soi quietly let her in. Yui set the tray down beside her bedroll, sitting at the far end of the tent.

"I hope it tastes okay." Soi really did look under the weather, she seemed tired and pale and it didn't look like the wounds from that last battle had healed yet. Soi quietly picked up the spoon and began to eat.

"It's fine," she said, almost flatly. "I didn't know you cooked."

"I'm not the best, but I'm used to doing it in my own world."

"Right." Soi paused, the spoon halfway to her mouth. "You've never told us much about your world, Lady Yui. Not that I'm curious, of course, but..."

"I just never thought of it, I guess." Unlike what she'd seen of Miaka, who'd won over all seven of her Celestial Warriors, Yui never spoke much to anyone besides Nakago and occasionally Suboshi. That usually suited her just fine, all she wanted was to summon Seiryuu and make her wishes so she could go back home.

But sometimes, she felt a little guilty. She'd seen the way Nakago treated Ashitare, and while his diet nauseated her she felt sorry for him. Tomo kept to himself, and once or twice she'd caught herself questioning whether it was his choice. Amiboshi...sometimes she regretted that she'd never gotten to meet the brother Suboshi loved so much.

And then there was Soi. The two of them had nothing in common aside from their gender. Soi regarded her with a distant respect, or the occasional suspicious glance if Nakago was nearby. Suboshi's spoken of Nakago spending his nights with her, and she behaves more softly towards him than the others...hmm, I wonder.

Did she love him? Did Nakago love her? If he does, I suppose I can't blame him...she's strong, and...beautiful.

Her heart leapt a bit. Beautiful. Nakago had once told her she was beautiful, and she'd been desperate to believe him, wanting to feel important and desirable after Tamahome went back to Miaka.

But it was a line, it had to be when Soi was right there and...well, absolutely stunning.

"Lady Yui?"

"Ah!" Yui's train of thought came to a screeching halt, and her face went hot. Soi was staring at her, and...smiling? Not quite, but it was a different expression from the usual cold suspicion. "What is it? Do you need anything else?"

"I'd like to know more about your world," Soi said, drinking the last of her broth. "If you don't mind, that is. Nakago has said you're not much for talking about the past after all you've been through."

"I don't mind. I mean...I can tell you about my family, and my studies," she said. Not about Miaka, not about the promise they'd made to each other that meant nothing. "Can I..."

"Sit down, please." Soi patted the bedroll, and Yui eagerly joined her.

"Well, I'm an only child," she began, and went on to talk about her parents, their jobs, the so-called glamour of being a latchkey kid. Soi listened eagerly, and when Yui unconsciously leaned against her, she didn't move. In fact, she felt Soi's hand reach for hers, and her heart skipped a bit.

It was the first time in months she'd felt like she mattered, that someone was interested in her beyond her role as Priestess of Seiryuu or falling over themselves trying to please her.

Like having a friend again. A strong, beautiful friend.

Soi fell asleep just as Yui ran out of stories to tell, and Yui found herself drifting off soon after. Against Soi's shoulder. Feeling the closest to content she'd felt in a long time.

Original, original character/original character, "Dripping Lillies" [MA] [underage] [crack]

[sarajayechan]

I said I'd write it... XD

--

Laurie Tinytits had just turned eleven years old. She was two years away from hitting the big one-three, making her officially A Woman. She would grow real breasts like her older sisters, start her menstrual cycle, and have her bedtime extended to ten PM.

Turning thirteen typically signals the onset of growing attracted to boys.

Boys were nothing but trouble, and Laurie's after-school tutor Vanessa Ruglicker knew this all too well. Boys were either way too eager to get under a girl's skirt, or completely ignored the affections of a girl who loved them for shallow reasons.

Either way, Vanessa feared Laurie would be doomed to fifty years of hopeless crushes and being overlooked. Of unwanted catcalls and goosing, meaty hands pawing at her on dates. Objectification, neglect, gaslighting. Marriage, consisting of nothing but chores and popping out babies until the boy-grown-into-a-man dumped her for a prettier girl.

Idaho had been a hotbed of heterosexuality until the Try Girls movement picked up steam. Women everywhere were leaving unsatisfying marriages and seeking out other women. Usually beautiful young girls, eager to experience life beyond the pointless heteronormativity they'd grown up believing in.

Laurie Tinytits was the most beautiful young girl Vanessa had ever laid eyes on. Small and slim, with budding little breasts that peaked under her tiny little t-shirts. Long legs for a girl her size, and the perkiest butt to ever be covered by tiny jean shorts. A heart-shaped face with soft, pink cheeks, wide blue eyes, pouty pink lips. Framed by golden curls.

Vanessa lusted for this pre-teen dream, especially after breaking it off with her boyfriend, Brad McDoucherton. Now that she wasn't tied down to meaningless groping in the back seat of his shitty car and the prospect of unsatisfying penetrative sex with the danger of STDs or pregnancy (Brad loudly proclaimed his hatred of condoms), she wanted to experience something real. Something pure.

The Try Girls movement sought to keep young girls pure and fresh, immune to the manipulative gaslighting influences of men and boys, all so they could be free to mold and teach the ways of pure and true love by older girls and women.

But would Laurie feel the same for Vanessa?

Vanessa was just recently eighteen. Seven years older than Laurie. Sexually starved. The Try Girls movement hadn't existed when she was Laurie's age, so she'd missed out on a fulfilling sexual awakening.

During a maths session one day, she noticed Laurie was wearing a skirt so short it barely covered her pert little butt. Exposed her frilly pink heart panties.

Her t-shirt was so small it exposed her flat little stomach, barely covering the bottoms of her tiny developing breasts.

Were the girl's nipples hard?

They were!

Vanessa's soft and supple vulva began to moisten with vaginal secretions. She peeked under the table to see Laurie's legs spread wide open.

Her cute little panties were wet in the center.

Laurie was giving her bedroom eyes.

"Oh, Vanessa," the pretty little girl-child blushed, "most of my friends have been talking about their steamy encounters with women lately, but I've never been touched even once!" She folded her hands under her chin. Laurie had always thought Vanessa was gorgeous. Tall and curvaceous, with high cheekbones and long, sleek black hair. She filled out her jeans, sweaters, minidresses, and bikinis better than any supermodel. Her boobs were an E-cup, just begging to be squeezed and nuzzled and motorboated.

Sometimes she could see Vanessa's skimpy thong panties, barely covering her tight ass and pronounced labia.

She'd been under the mistaken impression that Vanessa had plenty of experience with young girls. But she was blushing.

Could this ultra-sexy girl be a virgin, too?

"Will you teach me the joys of being intimate with an older woman?" Laurie asked prettily, batting her long eyelashes. Vanessa's juices flowed like a river, soaking her panties and the carpet.

They were alone in Laurie's room. Mr. and Mrs. Tinytits would be working late that evening.

So Vanessa kissed the underage hottie with lots of tongue. She wanted to take it slowly, like a true pure sexual awakening should be.

But Laurie was impatient.

She stopped the kiss and yanked off her clothes, fully exposing her developing body.

Vanessa undressed, too. Letting Laurie stare at her naked tits and dripping vulva.

"Can I touch it?" Laurie asked cutely, extending a perfect little hand. "I've read all the issues of Pouting Flowers I can get my hands on."

Who was Vanessa to refuse such an offer?

She laid down on the floor, raising her spread legs into a v-shape, and the innocent little angel dove between them, eating her out like she was some kind of expert. Not wanting to deny the girl pleasure, Vanessa pulled Laurie's lower body towards hers and formed a 69 position, sitting up with Laurie's knees on her shoulders as she licked the tiny virgin slit.

They came quickly, and at the same time. Luckily, women don't need a refractory period like useless men do, so they were ready for round two in no time.

Boobies.

Normally, boobies came first, but Laurie was special. Eager.

Vanessa wondered why any woman would date men when she could have this.

They had wild sex for hours, both a drippy mess when they finished. The whole room was permeated with the sweet scent of feminine juices.

They cleaned up before Laurie's parents got home, and Vanessa got permission to have Laurie stay with her for the weekend.

Laurie's underage pussy tingled at the thought of more sexings.

Fatal Frame, Akane & Azami, "Drops of Artificial Flowers"

[ufocatcher]

The world has lost its color. Everything is cold and gray.

Akane's hand strays to the only color left to recognize, splayed across her neck. It burns bright as she runs her little fingers over it. A symphony of sobs and gasps accompanies the scarlet memory of her sister's death, a warmth follows, and then she's left feeling hollow again.

There are other colors she would like to remember, to even recognize.

That vivid hue of violet again, the kimonos they'd wear to the festivals. The brilliant green of spring and the pretty rainbow of hues as they ran through a sea of pinwheels together, hand in hand. The inky black of night and the burst of flame as they sat around the bonfire listening to stories, of Gods and goblins. The kind, weathered tinge that accompanied their father's smiling face each morning they awoke and ran into his workshop to see what creations he was working on next.

The spectrum of life life immediately shed its luster after Azami rejoined her and became a butterfly. No more festivals, adventures through the cemetery or the old tree, no stories left in the world, and no smiles were left upon her father's face. Becoming one is supposed to be a joyous event, filled with the warmth of reunion, as the Ceremony Master promised.

Liar, Akane repeats bitterly to herself. All adults are liars.

Even her father's promises have come to naught for her; there is no feeling left, no healing to be done. Severed limbs and parts don't grow back on their own, after all.

No lifeless doll could replace her sister, either, regardless of its exact replication of her appearance.

She reluctantly tilts her head and glances at the thing sitting in the corner of the room, up against the wall, staring at her through cascades of dark hair. It's just as monochrome as everything else in the room.

"Stupid doll," she mutters and returns to the mangled flower in her lap, pulling its petals off one by one before she throws the stem into a pile of other desecrated flowers. "You're not Azami; you'll never be."

Three-thousand and one petals since the ritual. Three-thousand and two petals since the ritual. Three-thousand and three petals since the ritual...

The floorboards outside of her room creak and she knows it's her father lingering in the doorway again, watching her.

Three-thousand and four petals since the ritual. Three-thousand and five petals since the ritual. Three-thousand and six petals since the ritual...

She doesn't bother with a reply to the same question he asks her, either. It's all white noise to her, static.

Three-thousand and seven petals since the ritual. Three-thousand and eight petals since the ritual. Three-thousand and nine petals since the ritual...

"Zero."

Stopping, Akane drops the flower and quickly snaps her head around to look over her shoulder once more.

The doll is gone.

Her father is nowhere in sight and something warm brushes against her back. A tickle falls upon her neck as if someone leans over her opposite shoulder, and when she hears breathing, her heart shudders to a halt.

"A-Azami?" she asks and turns her head slowly.

A porcelain hand falls heavily atop the mark on her neck as the doll leans over, boring into her being with those black, glass eyes as it whispers, "Why do you kill?"