#Helping me rescue the Night Dancers was very cash money of her

[red-omega]

Funniest thing about my timeline rn is remembering that the coach of Venus literally came out of the ocean fully formed on a Flow Moon night

[wholoveseggs]

Indulgences

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Part Three

As your relationship with Elijah deepens, conflict arises and you are put in an impossible situation.

5.5k words - Warnings: smutttt, red door elijah {my interpretation of him}, drug use, adult themes, domestic abuse, violence, blood drinking.

Please be aware that this part is very violent. {Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

Elijah kept coming back, week after week, booking the platinum suite and requesting you. Every time you entered the suite and locked eyes with him your memories came flooding back in an instant. He would lay his head in your lap and tell you his heartaches while you stroked his dark hair. You learned how he was robbed of his life a thousand years ago, and how much guilt he carries in his heart. He would speak of his family with equal love and frustration, his world tipping further into turmoil with every passing day.

You admired his heart, his humanity, his fearlessness in facing his darkness. Sometimes, on rare occasions, his vulnerability would peek through and he would confide in you about his need for control and his fear of losing it. And sometimes, even more rarely, his heart would bleed for those he had killed and will kill. They were moments of weakness that he only let you see.

You began to care for him, truly care for him, past being his private dancer, past him being your cash cow. They were times when his perfect mask slipped just a little, showing a more fragile side of him, one you knew he had carefully crafted and honed to perfection. These moments revealed to you just how human he still was, despite having spent the past one thousand years as a vampire.

One night, as you gently traced your fingers through his dark hair while he rested his head on your lap, you softly asked, "Why did you choose me?”

Elijah, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall, murmured, "The way you looked at me... there was something about your eyes, they were so..."

"What?" you whispered, the intimate moment creating a tightness in your chest.

"Alive," he whispered back. "You looked at me as if you could see straight through my mask to the inner demon beyond and didn't care."

"I do see straight through you," you teased.

Elijah smirked, then averted his eyes. It was painfully evident to anyone who met him that beneath the facade of a perfect gentleman in tailored suits, a dark turmoil simmered within him, a side he struggled to keep subdued.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, as though trying to compose himself, and returned his gaze to yours.

"Do you like this job? Does it make you happy?" he asked curiously.

"Not happy, but it helps me survive." You replied honestly.

"If there was a way for you to never have to do this job again, would you take it?" Elijah asked seriously, studying you intently.

"It's complicated, this is my only way to earn money and stay afloat, I can't imagine life without it," you explained, a bit confused by his line of questions.

"If you had a choice," Elijah started, leaning in closer.

You sighed, borderline amused by how cliche he was being. It must have shown on your face because the side of Elijah's mouth twitched, and he continued.

"Would you want to leave with me, leave all of this, escape to a better place?" His question made your stomach lurch, and you sat up straighter, heart pounding. You weren't a fool; you had heard this offer from a few clients before. They all craved the fantasy of having a stripper for a girlfriend while playing the white knight, rescuing her from what they deemed a shameful profession. As you stared at Elijah for a long moment, sizing him up and searching his eyes, you realized he was different. Unlike the other men who made similar offers, Elijah possessed the power to fulfill his proposition—a considerable amount of power, so much that it left you feeling unsettled.

"I'd say take me to your kingdom," you jested, wearing a playful expression, not revealing any clear intention to go with him. 

He gave you a searching look and leaned towards you, hands on either side of your hips, pinning you to the couch. "Say the word, and we leave this instant," he murmured, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes.

"I'm not a fantasy, handsome. I'm a person with a life outside of this place, one you know nothing about," you remarked quietly.

"Then tell me," Elijah asked, the atmosphere around you intensifying, his gaze transforming into a look that pinned you down in more ways than one.

Running your fingers through your hair, you chewed the inside of your cheek, torn about whether revealing the truth would shift the power balance. The mysterious allure you carefully maintained gave you control over clients, resulting in higher tips. However, a part of you hesitated, not wanting Elijah to view you solely as a mystery. You longed for him to see the real you—a human with flaws and struggles like everyone else—rather than getting entangled in the fantasy of you.

"I'd rather not," you said firmly.

"Do you have terrible dark secrets?" He teased light heartedly, not daring to take his eyes away from yours.

"This," you said, gesturing around the room, "is not about me,"

You resisted this glimmer of hope, this tempting fantasy. Reality held you captive, you had troubles and responsibilities that hadn't magically disappeared just because Elijah walked in and requested to see you specifically.

"I disagree," he said gently, cupping your chin, turning your face to meet his. "It's very much about you. I would have never returned to this place if you weren't here,"

You blinked back the stinging feeling behind your eyes, and reached out and grabbed his tie, pulling him close so you were face to face.

"Exactly darling, it's all about you," you murmured, brushing your lips against his.

"That's not what I meant," Elijah whispered, but let you deepen the kiss regardless.

"Isn't it though?" you teased, sliding out from under him, standing up.

"This is where our night comes to an end, handsome," you announced, extending your hand out to him.

He grasped your outstretched hand, his dark brown eyes focused on you, and pulled you down until you were straddling him. You let out a soft gasp of surprise, your hands automatically resting on his chest.

"One more kiss," Elijah murmured, his voice muffled as he nuzzled your neck.

You gave a low laugh, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to him. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and even, sending a thrill through your whole body. You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of his touch.

His hands traveled up your thighs, until they reached your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your g-string. The heat from his fingers caused a blush to rise on your cheeks and your heart to beat faster.

"May I touch you?" Elijah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched in your throat, your body tensing at the thought of him being intimate with you. This wasn't allowed, Mitch would fire you on the spot. No sleeping with clients. It was his number one rule. Mostly because the club would lose its license.

But you didn't care about any of that, all that mattered was Elijah. You wanted him to touch you, to bring you pleasure. You wanted him to take you away from the pain and sadness, if only for a little while. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head in consent.

Elijah's eyes darkened with lust, his hand sliding between your legs, fingers grazing your damp panties. You bit back a moan, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He continued his gentle teasing, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit, watching your responses.

"You are so lovely," he murmured, kissing your neck.

You whimpered softly, arching your back, pushing your breasts against his chest. You wanted more, needed more. You wanted him to make you forget everything except his touch.

He dipped two fingers into your aching core, a breathy moan escaping your lips. You clenched around him, your head swimming with desire. He moved his fingers in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly. He brought his thumb up and traced small circles against your clit. You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, your climax swiftly approaching.

"That's it, beautiful," Elijah whispered, nipping at your ear.

You came undone, the tension in your body melting away, your hips bucking against his hand. You felt a sharp pain in your neck as he sunk his fangs into your skin. Your legs trembled as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your breathing ragged, your skin slick with sweat. He continued to stroke you, his movements drawing out your orgasm until you were a trembling mess.

He let out a low groan, pulling his mouth away from your neck, blood smeared on his lips. His eyes were completely black, dark veins snaking down his cheeks.

You gently ran your fingertips over his cheeks, marveling at the creature that lurked beneath the mask of a gentleman. He was breathtakingly beautiful and terrifyingly deadly. Your touch was enough to calm him and his features returned to their human appearance.

He pulled his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth, licking away your arousal with a predatory growl.

You giggled and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. His hands rested on your hips, his grip tightening. He returned the kiss, a sweet yet heated one that took your breath away.

"We shouldn't have done that," you whispered, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Why not? Did you not enjoy yourself?" Elijah questioned, his eyes full of concern.

"No, no it's not that, I...I mean, we're not allowed to have sex with the clients," you confessed, embarrassed by your admission.

"Do you still see me as just a client?" He asked with a raised brow.

"No, but Mitch will. I'll lose my job." You mumbled, biting your bottom lip.

He ran his fingers through your hair and cupped your chin, his eyes boring into yours. "Then come with me," he murmured, his lips ghosting against yours.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his, taking a deep breath. You wanted to say yes, you really did, but the reality was still there. He kisses you again, gently biting on his lip, the taste of his blood making your skin tingle. You felt the sting of the bite mark on your neck fade, and you pulled back. His fingers traced the area where the wound was, his eyes slightly far away.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Why?" You asked, your heart skipping a beat.

"I didn't ask for your permission," he explained, his jaw clenched.

You placed your palm on his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath your fingers, soothing the storm inside of him. "It's fine," you reassured him.

His expression softened and he smiled at you, the love and affection in his gaze filling you with warmth. You never had anyone look at you like that before and you found yourself wishing that the moment would never end, but reality set in.

"Time to go, darling." He said quietly, his breath fanning over your face. "You won't remember this until you see me again,"

You kissed him one last time and rose off his lap, swaying on your heels. You could feel his eyes on you as you stretched lazily, earning his appreciation.

"Have a good night, handsome." you murmured, teasingly blowing him a kiss as you strutted out the door.

You sat in the dressing room, looking down at the stack of hundreds on your lap. Once again confused on how you made that much. You couldn't remember a single detail of your time with the wealthy client in the platinum suite, it unnerved you. You wondered if the molly was strong enough to block out your memory and leave you totally empty.

"I hope your not fucking suit guy," Stacy remarked, walking by your chair, admiring herself in the mirror, a dark purple silk robe draped loosely around her body.

"I'm not." You assured her, shoving the hundred dollar bills back into your bag.

"You better not be, Mitch would fire you so fast, not to mention Jordan would be devastated," she remarked, a smirk on her face.

"I don't do that," you repeated, watching her change her attitude.

"There's an exception to every rule," Stacy remarked, pursing her red stained lips and applying another coat of lipstick.

"I'm not a cheater. Elijah is just a wealthy client who likes to talk, you know the type," you said with a shrug.

"Elijah," Stacy echoed, laughing. "You're on a first name basis with him? God, you might as well be fucking him," she taunted, raising her brows at you.

"Fuck off, Stacy," you snapped, glowering at her, refusing to let her get a rise out of you.

Jordan walked in, his usual friendly expression on his face, an extra spark in his eyes, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. He pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting.

"How's my baby?" he asked cheerfully.

"Good," you mumbled, quickly moving your bag out of sight.

"Hiii Jordy," Stacy sang, batting her eyelashes at him.

He flashed her a quick grin before turning his attention back to you. You could feel the knot in your stomach slowly untying itself, he was in a good mood today.

"Let's go get dinner, I know this great bar near here," Jordan said eagerly, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

You gave a half hearted smile, nodding your head. You would rather go home to a quiet apartment but you knew better than to spoil his mood with your defiance.

"Sounds fun," you murmured, forcing a smile.

Jordan and you walked out of the club, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. He glanced down at you, his face still carrying a smile, but his eyes holding a warning.

"You okay baby?" He asked.

"Tired," you replied simply, hoping it would be enough to explain your earlier behavior. "Is it okay if we just go home?"

"No! It's Friday, and I need time with my girl," he practically whined, as he guided you to his car.

Your heart sank at the tone in his voice, knowing very well he wouldn't take no for an answer. It was a game he played to get you to do what he wanted and give him an excuse to fight later, usually for being stubborn or a stuck up bitch.

"My shift was so long," you mumbled.

He shoved you into the passengers seat, closing the door before you could reach the handle. He got into the drivers side and turned the key, a sly smirk on his face. He grabbed your wrist, squeezing it tightly, his nails biting into your skin, he leaned in, his lips next to your ear.

"Why is it so hard to please you baby?" he whispered, his tone seething.

You stared at him, keeping your face neutral, dread churning in your stomach. You could feel the bruises beginning to form on your wrist, his anger slowly rising. He squeezed even tighter and you winced, a strangled cry leaving your lips. He let go of your wrist and slipped his hand between your legs, inching his fingers to your mound, squeezing roughly.

"This belongs to me, baby. How many times do I have to remind you that you're mine?" Jordan sneered, tightening his hold on you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears burning behind your eyes, and looked away, trying to detach yourself from the situation.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you murmured, shrinking away from him.

"Damn straight," he said, releasing his grip on you and turning his attention to the road, "Dinner and drinks at Rousseaus, you’ll love it."

You gave a stiff nod, trying to ignore the fear and anger in your heart.

Rousseau's was more crowded than you expected, but you both managed to find a table. You sat and waited while Jordan got drinks.

Other men always looked at you, wherever you went, it always made you uncomfortable. Especially so when you were with Jordan, his jealousy could cause an explosion at any moment. You wished he hadn't insisted on coming to the bar tonight, there was a feeling in your gut that told you something was going to go wrong.

When he returned with the drinks his mood had dramatically shifted, his eyes darting around the room as he slid into his seat next to you.

You picked at your finger nails, chipping away at the paint, and scooted your chair a few inches away from his. You could feel his eyes on you, seething with jealousy, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

"Maybe we should go," you suggested, shooting him a wary look.

"We just got here and I ain't done drinking," he replied, placing his hand on your knee, caressing your skin with his fingertips.

"Okay," you said in a small voice, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

He brought his hand up to your face, lightly brushing the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. You could tell by the look in his eyes that something wasn't right.

"Stacy was telling me something very interesting about you," he whispered, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"Oh?" You asked, feigning innocence, heart beginning to race.

"Yeah," Jordan mused, gently tracing a pattern on your skin. "She told me how you kept having one on ones in the platinum suite. Absolutely raking in the tips. Does that sound like something you're familiar with?" His words were soft, but his voice was harsh.

Your stomach dropped at his question, realizing what he was getting at. You stared back at him blankly, trying to formulate a response. You thought about lying to him, you were a good liar, you did it everyday of your life. Jordan was visibly seething, but he wouldn't do anything to you in public, so you kept your guard up just in case.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, babe," you said in the sweetest, yet most patronizing tone, grabbing his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly.

He narrowed his eyes at you and took another sip of his drink. Your stomach turned, you knew he wasn't finished, this was far from over.

"If I find out you're lying to me," he started, his voice menacing. "I'll kill you."

The color drained from your face, fear coursing through your veins. You wanted to bolt out the door, run for your life, anything to get away from him, but you didn't. You looked away from his terrifying eyes, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

That's when you saw him, sitting near the window, watching you intently. Elijah.

The reality of his existence hit you like a swift blow. He was a vampire. He had bared his heart and soul to you. Just hours ago, you had been in his embrace, experiencing pleasure as he fed off you. Then he would erase the memory from your mind, leaving you oblivious to what he truly was. He offered you a knowing smile, his dark eyes piercing into yours. Your cheeks flushed red as you looked away. Despite everything, a part of you yearned to run to him, to forget about the monster lurking beside you.

"Excuse me for a second," you whispered, letting go of Jordan’s hand and sliding your seat back.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Jordan snapped, his grip on your knee tightening, his fingers digging painfully into your skin.

"Just the bathroom," you muttered, struggling to keep your composure.

He gave you a steely look, before releasing your knee. You gathered your purse and rose to your feet and without glancing back at him, headed for the bathroom.

You felt Elijah's presence behind you when you got to the hallway. Fear churned inside you like a whirlpool, as you turned to face him, not completely sure what you would say to him.

"It's not a good time for a talk," you said in a low voice, opening the door to the ladies room, hoping Elijah would get the hint.

"You seem distressed," he said quietly, concern clear in his voice.

"Come in, you can't be out here with me," you whispered, tugging on his hand, pulling him into the bathroom.

You checked to make sure the coast was clear and locked the door, feeling Elijah's eyes following you.

"Is that your boyfriend?" He teased in a gentle tone, clasping his hands in front of him, subtly checking you out.

"Yes," you said softly, leaning against the counter, staring down at the floor.

"Is he why you won't run away with me?," Elijah asked, taking a tentative step towards you.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, as he placed his hands on the counter, boxing you in between him and the sink.

"Among other things," you replied evasively, tilting your head up, your gaze resting on his.

"Name one of them," he purred, bringing his hand up to your hair, twirling a stray strand around his finger.

"You've messed with my memories, Elijah. When I'm not around you, I don't remember our time together; I’m frightened of you," you admitted, your body stiffening. "I blame it on the drugs I take, I get anxious about my mental health," you trailed off, feeling shame rising in your throat.  "But then I'm with you and..I feel calm, I feel safe, like you'd protect me. And, it scares me, this emotional whiplash is taking its toll,”

"I'm sorry for frightening you, that wasn't my intention," he said gently, his hands lifting to rest on your hips, gently lifting you onto the counter.

"Everything is... complicated, Elijah," you murmured, running your fingers through your hair, trying to muster an answer.

"I know," he murmured, leaning in and kissing your neck, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. “I won't compel you anymore, my dear, I trust you,”

You closed your eyes, inhaling his wonderful scent, it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. This didn't feel real, you hadn't felt this happy in so long, it was surreal.

Your hands went to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palms, and his lips met yours. The kiss was soft, affectionate, and full of meaning. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, never wanting to let go.

"You don't love him do you?," Elijah whispered in your ear, trailing his finger down your jaw.

"No," You breathed, shaking your head, grasping the lapels of his suit. "I couldn't, I try, I have for years, but I just can't,"

He hummed his agreement and kissed you with more passion than you'd experienced with any man before. You could feel his desire, his urgency, and you craved him. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair, letting out a soft gasp when his hands slipped under your dress, gently kneading your thighs.

"No, we can't, not with Jordan here," you rasped, reluctantly pushing his hands away. "Please don't. If he suspects something..." You whispered, trailing off, swallowing hard.

Elijah glanced down at your hands on his chest, his brow furrowing as he noticed your bruised and swollen wrist.

"You're hurt," he observed, examining the marks on your skin, his expression a strange mixture of anger and concern.

"It's fine," You reassured him, trying to pull away from his grip, "just forget about it. Really, I'm ok,"

"He hurt you," Elijah insisted, frowning.

"I had an attitude with him," You mumbled, yanking your arm back, and cradling your wrist in your lap, and nervously twisting the hem of your dress in your fingers.

"Y/n," he said softly. "This isn't the first time he's hurt you is it?"

You looked up at him through tear filled eyes, your mask of composure finally slipping.

"No," you said in a small voice.

"How long has he done this to you?" He asked in a low voice, cupping your face in his palms.

"Years," you choked, no longer able to hold in your emotions, tears trickling down your face. You felt such pure humiliation, embarrassment that Elijah had seen such weakness in you.

"I have to go," you stammered, rubbing your eyes and sniffling.

"You don't have to leave," Elijah insisted, bringing your face up to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You froze at his question, wondering what kind of answer he wanted.

"It ruins the fantasy," you said with a dry laugh, trying to brush it off as some stupid joke.

Elijah furrowed his brow at you, looking shocked at your response.

"Do you think I judge you? See you as just a stripper?" He asked earnestly, all of his usual confidence dissipating.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak, but not daring to lie to him, watching him through watery eyes.

"I told you about my life, my father, the torment he put my family through, how could I judge you?," Elijah asked, lowering his face to yours, our lips inches apart, his scent flooding your senses.

"I don't know," you whispered, keeping your gaze fixed on his, savoring his kindness.

"We'll get through this," Elijah whispered in your ear. "Together."

"I have to go," you whispered, before the weight of what he said could sink in.

"Walk out with me, you never have to be near him again," Elijah begged.

"No, please, it'll make everything worse," You pleaded, sliding off the counter. "Don't give me hope, I can't handle hope."

"Y/n," Elijah began, sounding exasperated.

"I'll see you at the club, okay? Goodbye." you said quietly, before he could protest anymore, leaving the bathroom.

Tears filled your eyes as you walked through the bar, taking slow deep breaths to calm yourself. Jordan was still sitting at the table, looking extremely impatient. You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling in your gut as you sat down. He swirled the liquid in his glass, his expression blank. 

"Took you long enough, what were you doing in there?" Jordan sneered, pinning you with his icy glare.

You could now remember everything about Elijah, how he made you feel, all those hours together in the platinum suite. Everything. And now here, looking at Jordan, your abuser, the man who took so much from you, was such a contrast that it was almost unbearable. You were revolted by his very presence.

"I just needed a moment to myself, you know? After what you said about killing me," You forced a tight smile, taking a sip of your cocktail, your throat had never been drier.

Jordan scoffed, his features darkening with annoyance. "Let's go, this bar fucking sucks," he snarled, slamming his empty glass down on the table, rose to his feet and swiped his keys off the table.

You took the last sip of your drink and reached into your purse, pulling out your wallet. You felt his hand rest on your arm, you were almost paralyzed with fear.

"What the fuck is that?" Jordan snarled, looking at the tips you earned from Elijah earlier.

You swallowed thickly, completely taken aback, you had no idea what to do.

"I... I got a bonus today," you said in a feeble tone.

Jordan stared down at the money, completely enraged. "Stacy was right wasn't she? You've been fucking that rich asshole," he whispered, his fist closing around your arm, dragging you to your feet.

He quickly guided you through the crowd and outside the bar, pulling you towards the nearby alley. Your mind reeled with panic, realizing what was happening. Your legs no longer functioned as he dragged you behind the building.

"Baby, let's go back inside, I don't understand what's going on," you pleaded, trying to regain composure.

"I asked you a question. Tell me," Jordan growled, his fingertips dug into your arm painfully.

"It was a bonus," you snapped.

His fist connected with your face in a sudden and violent burst of rage. The impact was so intense it dazed you, the air being knocked out of your lungs as you tried to keep your footing.

"I know you're fucking some gangster and keeping all the tips for yourself," he shouted, his hands wrapping around your throat, forcing you against the wall.

Your hands scrambled for his, trying to pry his fingers off, his grip squeezing tighter as the lack of air made your vision blur.

"I asked you nicely and you have the nerve to fucking lie to me? That just shows me that you don't love me at all," he yelled, rage boiling in his veins, his grip nearly crushing your windpipe.

"Please..." you whispered, through ragged gasps for breath.

"I've done nothing but take care of you since we met and this is how you repay me?" He shouted, his grip tightening even more, your entire body struggling to get oxygen, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

You brought your knee up as hard as you could to his groin. Jordan groaned and doubled over, loosening his grip enough to allow you to wrench yourself free.

You began to run in the direction of the street, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. But he caught up, grabbing your hair and forcing you to the ground. You cried out in pain as he landed on top of you, his hands roaming all over your body as he held you down, squeezing every inch of skin he could grab.

"Shh, shh, don't scream baby, don't scream," he hushed you, slapping his hand over your mouth. "It's okay I forgive you."

"Get off of me!" You cried, as he frantically tugged on your dress. He didn't waste another second, gripping your jaw tightly, his fingers digging in painfully.

"You think I'd let you cheat on me and get away with it?" Jordan gritted out, his hands wrapping around your throat again, increasing the pressure. Your screams were only barely audible now, your vision starting to fade, everything slowly turning black. 

Suddenly there was no weight on your chest. You gasped for air, taking desperate shallow breaths, looking up at Elijah who was pinning Jordan to the wall by the throat. Elijah's eyes were completely black, gray veins stretched out under his eyes.

"Do you know what it feels like to be unable to breathe?" He growled, his grip tightening, Jordan's face turning a ghastly shade of blue. "The fear, the terror that overwhelms your body. To know that no matter how hard you fight, you're going to die?"

Jordan's eyes bulged in fear, his hands clutching at his throat, trying to get away.

"You were going to kill her, weren't you?" Elijah seethed, his voice trembling with rage.

"Please... I'm sorry," Jordan wheezed, his voice barely audible.

"She begged for mercy and you ignored her, why should I show you the same courtesy?" Elijah asked, in an eerily calm tone.

Jordan's eyes widened as he struggled against Elijah, desperately trying to loosen the vampire's grip.

"Cockroach," he snarled, his fingers curling tighter around his neck, lifting him up, Jordan's feet no longer touching the ground. "Be still."

"No... no," Jordan squealed pathetically, "what are you?"

Elijah pulled Jordan's face close to his, Jordan's limbs thrashing at his sides, trying to pry away the iron grip on his neck. Elijah gave him a sinister smile, his fangs gleaming in the dim light.

"Death," Elijah whispered, before swiftly snapping his neck.

The blood drained from your face, your head spinning, everything feeling as if it was happening in slow motion. His body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, an unnatural twist to his neck, Jordan's life no longer there.

You felt your heart stop, like someone had thrust a knife through your chest, you almost couldn't breathe. He was dead. Gone. A part of you was happy, euphoric even, he would never touch you again, hit you again, torture you any more. You never felt any pleasure when you were with him, the man was your prison, he had no redeeming qualities and yet, the scars still remained.

Elijah knelt in front of you, pulling off his suit jacket and draping it across your shoulders. Your hands were numb as they slipped through the holes, holding it shut in the front.

"We can't leave him like that," you whispered, staring at Jordan's body, slumped against the brick.

"I'll handle it," Elijah murmured. "Can you stand?"

You nodded, rising on unsteady feet, grateful when he wrapped his arms around you, supporting you as you stumbled. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car, quickly setting you down in the passenger seat.

"Do you wish for me to take you home?" Elijah asked gently, seeing that you'd retreated inside of yourself, staring into the distance.

"No." you said hoarsely, resting your head against the glass.

He didn't seem surprised, opening the door, slipping inside and starting the car. His hand rested on your knee, drawing lazy circles on the bare skin, the effect was soothing and you closed your eyes, taking slow steady breaths.

"My home it is, then.”

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

PS: There will be a part four -xo

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[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 134

July 23

The kitten room feels so empty tonight! For the past month or so I've been journaling from in here while keeping one eye on the boys' nightly rampage, occasionally taking breaks to stop them from bouncing off walls or to dangle the cat dancer for them. But this afternoon I packed them up and took them back to the shelter where they will go on to big kitten finishing school before going up for adoption. My kitten room is quiet and peaceful, perfect for tiny neonates who need lots of sleep and cuddles in order to grow, but not exactly the best environment from which to dump two scared not-quite-feral-anymores into the controlled chaos of the kitten room at the shelter. It is frustrating that the rescue coordinator cannot see the difference in them from six weeks ago because they are still so scared when they go into the shelter, but I am hoping that spending a couple weeks in the different and much more fluid environment of big kitten foster will help them adjust better. They are so sweet, they're just scared of change! 

With the kittens off to their next adventure, our attention turns to getting ready for the trip. Tonight I need to clean up the kitten room, both because it will get extremely stinky and gross if I just leave it for ten days and because I know that as soon as I get back they're going to give me new kittens. There are so many kittens, y'all! We knew it was going to be like this all the way back in March when the spay-neuter clinic had to close down and our trapping  was curtailed by health concerns and curfew. Still, you just have to do what you can! Our numbers this month are good so far, even with a full week left to go. We've TNR'd 15 adult cats, put 17 kittens into foster, and only had to euthanize one sick and suffering cat. We also raised nearly enough money to cover our own costs for the month, which is very important! The rescue operates on a thin margin at the best of times, but with adoptions down and intakes up, they can't afford to kick a lot of cash our way for surgeries. Getting money from the people who ask us to catch cats for them helps some, but we don't not help cats just because somebody can't pay. So far our best vehicle for fundraising has been finding the very photogenic kitties and telling their stories to Facebook with the donate button activated. People do like to help sad kitties, thank god! 

Besides cleaning the kitten room, I also need to get the kitchen and bathrooms clean so nothing unpleasant grows while we are away, and clean out the van so we can fill it with stuff to take with us. We still haven't gotten that bookshelf out because it rained this afternoon. So lots of cleaning, packing suitcases (my husband did all the laundry because he is a generally amazing person), getting the plants set up for slow watering, and making food for the trip is all on the agenda for tomorrow. Plus it's our anniversary, which is at least an excellent excuse for takeout and not dirtying up the kitchen. Also it is the cat's birthday! She is officially old enough to drive now, so be careful out there! 

In lieu of watching the kittens wrestle while I write, I'm keeping an eye on the local Facebook group melting down over the school board task force recommendation that the first nine weeks of school be all-virtual. You can definitely tell who in the comments has never even visited an elementary school since their own student years. It's an interesting mix of people concerned about spreading the virus in schools, people concerned about the logistical nightmare of social distancing in schools, people who are so desperate to get their kids back into school (for a variety of reasons) that they would risk just about anything, and a smattering of people insisting that this is all a hoax and that somehow Nancy Pelosi is winning if we keep schools closed (???) The Pelosi part just seems to be one guy who is posting a whole lot. 

I put in my two cents and bowed out, which is that if they open the schools they are just going to have to close them again as soon as they run out of teachers. Even assuming that every teacher is willing to go back and that anybody who can retire or afford to quit doesn't bounce at the last minute, COVID-19 exposure requires a two week family quarantine. If the teacher gets exposed, or if one of their kids gets exposed, that's a teacher out for 14 days, which is a nightmare sub scenario in normal times. The division says they have 350 subs, but nobody sent me a survey along with my "welcome to 2020, substitute teacher!" letter to ask if I was actually planning to teach. My answer, and I suspect the answer of a lot of subs, is no. And real talk, last year I could've subbed all day every day if I had wanted to, because there were never enough subs to cover every spot even in good times. How many teachers do you lose with no available replacement before you have to close a school and not even teach virtually? 

Oh, and the other cat thing I did today was dropping off the drop trap (ha!) at a new site to get the cats there trap-trained. Trap training is great if you can manage it, set up the trap and prop it so it stays open, then start feeding the cat in there for several days in a row. The cat gets over their jitters about the trap and gets used to the food being there, so when you actually set the trap to catch them, they walk right in. This time we are trying to catch a mama and two half-grown kittens and we are hoping to get them all in a single drop. This lady whose house I was at was very nice and clearly very affluent, and she is paying the freight for all three cats which is great. She showed me what happened to her TNR cat from a few years ago, who was TNRed as a kitten and then lived in her garage over the winter because it was cold but she was still pretty feral. They decided they could not keep her in the house because she didn't get along with their dog, so they basically built her an efficiency apartment out of half the backyard shed. This thing is an insulated room with lights, air conditioning, television, a heated cat bed, a cat tree, and a little cat door leading out to a screened-in catio. They put an antenna on the shed so the cat could get more channels, and there is a comfy human chair so they can spend time with her. I felt all the feelings simultaneously and elected to settle on being happy that this cat obviously has a super excellent life, and that the humans are taking care of their other feral cats, probably dumpees from the nearby trailer campground. 

All right, I've dawdled enough for one night, time to actually get some work done. Oh, and in one last bit of COVID trivia, only one urgent care chain on the Peninsula is giving tests for people without symptoms, and their turnaround time is 7-10 days. That's a pretty good indication that whatever our infection rate is, we actually have no idea how many people have got this thing. 

[thenataliamarseille]

You’re Safe | Discord

                                                      DISCORD THREAD #002

Who?: Natalia Marseille, Traci Hendrix ( @traciisms ) When?: Monday 10th August 2020, 04:30am Where?: Outside Cherry Pop

Mentions: Nicola Sloane ( @nicolaeisms ), Avery Oliveira ( @amoliveiraofficial ) Triggers: abuse mentions, sex work mentions, violence

PLOT DEVELOPMENT?: YES. Traci is attacked outside Cherry Pop.

Traci

traci has had a long night at cherry pop with how crowded it has been. it's a saturday night, so that can explain why there's so many clients around to watch them perform. rich businessmen, bachelors, trust fund babies, you name a type of client, they're all there. after her performance on-stage and a couple of private show, the girl quickly got herself ready to come home. she's supposed to walk out with natalia as always, but she was a little bit hard to find, so she decided to wait for her outside, which was a very bad one for her. "hello venus, waiting for someone?" "why are you alone, kitten?" "do you want to join us instead?" traci's found herself being surrounded by a group of men, slowly taking steps away from them. not so long after, her back hit a wall, causing for her to whimper. she tried to shout for help, but there was nothing that was coming out of her mouth. flashbacks of that bachelors party long ago came to mind, making her stand there frozen. what is she going to do now?

Natalia

Natalia got off the phone with Nicola and finished up in the office where she was counting up the takings from the extremely busy Saturday they had just had. Busy was fucking good at the moment, the hot weather bringing more people out for drinks, the dancers keeping them there and keeping their cash in the tills. She walked around the back areas of club that were for staff only, finding all the right people that needed paying on the night. Then, she quickly swapped out her stripper heels for some boots and threw on her infamous faux fur coat and after a conversation with another dancer that said that Traci had gone outside, she too headed out the firedoors at the back. "I'll see you tomorrow babies," she called back into the strippers changing rooms on her way out. "Trac--" Nat's call for the woman was cut short when she saw her being backed into a corner by the group of businessmen that had been told twice inside to quit it with the touching attempts. "Hey!" Natalia called out. "Get the fuck away from her or I'll call the cops," she shouted, her thick french accent shining through.

Traci

tears started streaming down her cheeks, it felt like these....these walls are closing in on her, all she could hear are these men's muffled voices, the voice of that very man who cornered her in a secluded room and almost took advantage of her. but nat came out to the rescue for her that night. natalia. where's natalia? she tried to call out of her, but there wasn't much sound. until....finally she was there. but traci was still scared, she couldn't move. she kept on glancing between them and natalia, silently pleading for her help.

Natalia

The men turned to look at the other stripper, their eyes going over her body like they owned it and, if looks could kill, the expression that took hold of Nat's features. "Who the fuck do you think you're looking at like that," she spat, being the one to take the first move and step forward into the group of men. They laughed. They fucking laughed. They called out petnames and then one of them took another step closer to Traci and that was it. "Nique la police," she muttered under her breath as she reached into her fur and down her leg and pulled out a small handgun. "Step the fuck away from my dancer," she demanded, her eyebrow raising as she flicked the safety off the gun.

Traci

everything that's happened next was a blur to her. she just stood there watching as natalia dealt with these three men, definitely not in the calmest of way. she could feel it by the way she was staring at them, how her jaw clenched when it looked like they aren't taking her seriously. all of a sudden one of them moved closer again, making traci curl up in her corner. "nat...nat...please..." she finally cried. "please help me...." she sobbed quietly, looking up at the other pleadingly. she could feel her body growing weak, and just desperate for natalia, and the feeling of security she's always had with her.

Natalia

She heard Traci cry and call out and she just felt her entire body go into auto-pilot, the driver being sheer fucking rage. "Merde," she cursed as she shot the gun at the floor, using the sound of the shot to quickly close the gap between her and the man closest to Traci. She flipped the gun around and took it by the hot barrel which kind of burnt her hand but she didn't even notice. She pistol whipped the man, sending him down to the ground before spinning around in her five inch heels and grabbing the other one by his shirt, pulling him into her whilst cursing about how men were the fucking worst in French, and headbutted him with enough force that it sent him stumbling backwards into, and then back through the doors of the club. Nat turned again to where the third guy was as he tripped over his feet a little as he walked backwards, hands in the air. "Smart move, asshole," she spat out to out side and wiped the back of her hand across her lips before bending down and picking her gun back up off the floor then running over to Traci. "Hey, baby... It's okay-- I got you babygirl..." She muttered softly, pushing the her hair back and behind her ear. "Here--" Nat shrugged off her coat and wrapped it around Traci's shoulders. "Let's get you out of here..."

Traci

she could feel her head spinning as she watched what happened next when natalia shot her gun. she wasn't just afraid for her safety, but also for the older dancer's life. she stood there, trying to catch her breath while the woman took care of this group of bastards. nat definitely knew how to fight, how to fuck them up and send them running. she finds herself staring at the pavement, tears streaming down her face when natalia finally came up to her, tucking her hair behind her ear. "nat..." she almost leaped into her arms and sobbed, holding on to her for her dear life. once again, she was saved by natalia marseille. "okay....i... i'm tired....please...hold me in bed tonight...i... i'm scared, nat....still scared..."

Natalia

Natalia was shaking, but not because she was scared or because she was hurt but because she was just so fucking angry. This didn't happen a lot, on the most part, the people who came to the club were respectful of the dancers, but the few times a year it did happen... It took a little while for the dancers to shake it off. Especially Traci, especially after what had happened to her. "I'm here my darling... It's okay..." Natalia reassured her as she wrapped and arm around her and began to walk her forward. Natalia made no mistake when she stepped on the guy's hand with the stiletto of her heel causing him to cry out in pain. One of them called her a bitch and she stopped dead in her tracks, holding Traci in front of her and turning around with a cocked eyebrow as she stared him dead in the eye. "You want to call me that again, eh?" She spat with venom. The guy clearly knew what was best for him because he came out from between the back doors and shut them behind him. "That's what I thought-- you're all barred. From here, Blue, Peppermints-- and every other decent place in this fucking town." Of course, Natalia didn't have the automatic power to do that but she already knew Nic and Avery would put it in place the moment she told them about this. "Let's go..." Nat muttered, turning back around and leading Traci around to her 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO. Nat wasn't made of money, but she was materialistic and so the money she did have went towards her flashy pent and this stunning classic car. Oh, and clothes. Obviously. Nat helped Traci in, she even leant across and did her seatbelt up for her. Then she cupped her cheeks and dropped down so she could properly look her in her eyes. "You're staying with me for a while, okay? I'll take care of you, mon cheri..." She kissed her gently as her thumb rolled over her cheeks, wiping away her tears.

Traci

having natalia there once more to save her again.....traci felt lucky. she couldn't imagine what she would've went through if she didn't look for her at that bachelors party, if she didn't look for her now. she was a little bitch shaken up by both incidents, mostly now depending on the other on leading her away from the place and to her car. she just watched her stepped on the man's hand, which causes for traci to whimper and hide her face against her neck. natalia was still obviously fuming, she could feel it by how warm she is right now. nicola and avery....for sure they wouldn't let shit like this slide. she was then finally lead to her car after that, she cannot take a second longer to look at them anymore. she stares up at the older woman as she settled in her seat, nodding as the other looked at her in the eyes, wiping away her tears. she only replied with a tiny "okay." after that, the younger dancer just curled up in her seat while nat eventually drives off from the place.

Natalia

She had no idea how they could still be in this position, how their profession was still just seen as women who men could do whatever they wanted to. It was a profession, because Nat had never met any group of people who worked harder or with more passion that the people at Cherry Pop and Peppermints. So when this happened, when it kept happening... It made it impossible for Nat to not lose her cool. She was usually calm, collected... But not when it came to this. Not when it came to of the dancers, and especially Traci's, safety. Natalia could see how shaken up the younger woman was because of this, and it broke her head. She sighed gently, closing the car door and then going around and getting in the drivers side before turning the car on and driving away. The whole ride, she muttered to herself in French. About how she hated those kinds of men, how she was angry at herself for not getting there sooner. It's not long until they get to Nat's place, pulling into the private garage of the apartment block and parking up. Natalia came around to Traci and got her out of the car, taking her hand and leading her just quietly to the elevator that took them straight up to her penthosue. As soon as they were inside and the doors shut, she pulled Traci into a tight hug. "I got you, baby... You're safe..."

Traci

she shuts her eyes as, laying her head against the headrest as natalia drives off. traci's heart is still beating fast and she could still feel her body slightly shaking. being almost taken advantage of once more....it was already too much for her. she loved her work, she loved it with all her heart, but she despises this the most. once they've arrived and the older woman got her out of the car, she kept her eyes on the floor while she was led back up to the other dancer's penthouse. she stood close by her, holding on to her arm like her life depended on it. not a moment longer they were in her place and she was pulled into a hug right away, and then she started sobbing again. "nat...." she whimpers, burrowing her face against the taller woman's neck.

Natalia

By the time they've arrived at her apartment block, Natalia is a little more calm. The hushed ranting stopped and now she was just worried about Traci. She could remember how the other was following what happened a few years ago at the party they had escorted for... This was going to bring all of that back, and then add more too it. God, why were men so fucking entitled? She had to swallow those thoughts down though, she didn't want to be angry around Traci right now... She needed Nat's softer side, her caring and her love. She didn't need her temper, that would only make it worse. "Hey... Hey, I'm here baby..." She whispers into the top of Traci's head as she presses her lips to it, a hand coming up and stroking through her hair. "It's okay... It's over..." The doors of the elevator pinged and Nat led the younger dancer into her pent and through it straight to the bedroom. She cupped her cheek and wiped her tears away with her thumbs softly. "I'll never let anything happen to you, babygirl... You know that, right?" She muttered, words laced with her accent.

Traci

she grabs a handful of natalia's shirt and just held on it for her dear life, feeling like they were still there, and they were going to take her away. traci tries to calm her breathing down while the other kisses the top of her head. they're in a safe place now, no one could ever harm her. nat was right. but traci couldn't help but still be shaken up, struggling to be on her feet as she held on to the other for support. she couldn't help but think of what might've happened if she wasn't there, if she was all alone. though the older dancer was right. she just nods at her question, looking up at her pleadingly in the eyes. "t'ank you...." she whispers in reply. traci then tugs on her shirt. "m'still scared....tired and scared.... don't leave me alone....please...."

Natalia

She hated seeing Traci like this. She hated how helpless she felt when Traci was like this. The regret of not just shooting that fucking man shot through her mind, but she ultimately knew that that would have hurt her, Traci, the business and Nicola more than this was hurting her. When the younger dancer grabbed onto her shirt, Nat let her do so, pulling her in closer and rubbing her hand up and down her back gently shhing her. "You never need to thank me for looking after you, baby..." She said quietly. Nat furrowed her eyebrows a little when Traci asked her to not leave her alone. "I would never..." Nat uttered. "You can stay here as long as you like, as long as you need... In my arms, in my home, in my company... I need you to feel safe, my sweet... You are safe..." Nat kissed her softly before breaking them apart only to take her top off and then Nat's so that they could be closer, skin on skin. "You want to shower? Or you want to go straight to bed?"

Traci

she knew she didn't have to thank natalia, but traci couldn't help it, she has been there for her ever since she has started working at cherry pop, she has always been there to take care of her, to make sure she always gets what she needs, that she always feel safe and that she is indeed safe. she knew it would never be uttered, but they have this love for each other that's different above the rest, which is just.....something beyond the kind of love traci knew. they didn't have to say it, they both just knew it and they already understand without ever feeling the need to tell each other. she nods at her words once more, she's safe, she's always safe with natalia, and the woman would never dare to leave her. at the mention of the shower or bed, she immediately yawns, feeling the exhaustion finally take over her. "bed....m'tired....just want to sleep...." she gently shoves her face against her chest.

Natalia

Natalia had always been a protective kind of woman. When she was younger, it was over everyone threatened by the ruthless politics and policies her own Mother wanted to implement. It was in the protests in Paris that she first had to physically fight her own battles. Then, it was those she had grown close to, those back home who knew what she was doing and helped her in her fight. Then, after moving to America and taking up dancing and stripping and escorting, it was every other woman she acquainted herself with that couldn't fight their own battles on their own. Now, she had all of the dancers at Cherry and all of them at Peppermints too. But, Traci... The way she cared for Traci was far more than she had ever cared for any of the others. If monogamy was something she was into, she might even tell her how when she says ' i love you', she really does mean those three words... Something told her that Traci already knew that though. "Okay, my love... Come here," Nat pulled Traci in a little closer and then helped her out of the rest of her clothes before undressing herself and then led them both to her bed, getting in and pulling the covers right up to their shoulders as if it were a shield from the world. "I got you, babygirl..."

Traci

she lets the woman take off the rest of her clothes, kicking off her shoes before she was led to bed. traci immediately finds herself curled up in the arms of natalia, one of the few places where she felt the safest, like nothing can ever hurt her. she's one of the very few people she trusts with all her heart and her life. she clings on to natalia's body as if her life depends on it, burrowing her face against her neck. she yawned once more, looking at the other's face one more time before shutting her eyes close. "g'night, nat.....see you in the morning...."

Natalia

Nat pulls her in close, wrapping her arms around her and then gently playing with her hair as she sorts out a position to stay in. She can already feel Traci's body getting heavier in her arms, she can feel the adrenaline leave and the exhaustion come in. Nat's tired too, but those thoughts and that anger is still swirling around inside her. The older woman kisses her forehead gently as she closes her eyes, hand on the back of head burrowing her back into her neck softly. "Dors bien mon ange..." She whispers as she gently plays with her hair, holding her tightly until she finally feels Traci untense and fall into sleep.

[kurara-black-blog]

The Schuyler Sisters

Date: 24/01/18

Warnings: Song fic, Hamilton lyrics, stranded Lance, lots of OCs, winged Lance, ignored fic as always.

Tag: @moonsworllld ; @xarphay ; @skydisneylover ; @mutantgurls ; @spooky-the-owl ; @hauntedfreakdeputyhero (why I tag most of you when you don’t read will forever be a mystery)

A/N: SAY HELLO TO OUR DEAR TRIO! I haven’t revised it, so, as you know, future me will deal with it eventually.

The song used for this chapter is (obviously) The Schuyler Sisters.

PREVIOUS: The Story of Tonight

NEXT: Farmer Refuted

“What is the next song?”

��The Schuyler Sisters.”

“Wait, where is Trayir?”

“Probably flirting with some rich ass. He did say he wanted proximity to power.”

“And I’m the one who flirts too much.”

“You do flirt too much, talk-a-lot, you just don’t do it for money.”

“It’s like, how you say, the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Thanks, Fun.”

Trayir was a simple man. He liked to flirt, he liked to drink, he liked to be treated the way he deserved. With utmost respect, admiration and a smudge of fear. And what best place to find people like that than the busy city of Oseford, the very heart of Aihogary Empire, the land of Aakzeans?

Besides, there he could find people with actual cash, and getting them to support him, and therefore the Revolution, would be of big help for all parties involved.

And so the proud Altean left his comrades in the market. He would’ve warned them if he wasn’t so sure they would ruin his chance. Especially that human who thought oh so highly of himself.

And he did actually find exactly what he was looking for.

Three figures walking around, three girls looking around.

Angelica!

An Olkari with fiery eyes and impeccable posture, walking as if royalty was an ornament she carried around casually, dressed in a long pink dress.

Eliza!

An Aakzean with gorgeous purple eyes and long black hair, the smile of a dreamer shinning on her face, dressed in a long red dress and a black cape.

And Peggy!

And a Galra with a gentle gaze and a cautious attention, expression writing thousands of worried letters, dressed in a long yellow dress.

Trayir smirked.

Work, work!

The Schuyler sisters!

Lucky him, finding what he’d been looking for.

“C’mon, we’re almost there!”

“Calm down, Chemie, you know I can’t run.”

“I really don’t mind carrying you, Lavina.”

Together they walked towards their freedom. A plan orchestrated by the always intelligent Chemie and a mysterious rebel she’d refused to introduce to her siblings. They still trusted him, of course, because Chemie did and they trusted Chemie, though it would’ve been nice to already know their savior.

“I still think this is too risky.” Lavina sighed, remembering the punishments General Vrolkiell so delightfully gave to all who tried to escape his personal harem.

“Yes, well, staying there would also be risky. We know what he does to the pregnant ones.” At that, Lavina put her hands on her belly, fearing for the life of her unplanned but dearly wanted unborn child.

“We also know what happens to those who are caught running away.”

“And the ones who take too long to give in on his supposed charms.” Lavina looked at her brother sympathetically, knowing the romantic man would enter a consuming despair if his first time were taken from him.

But—look around, look around, the

Revolution’s happening in New York

“Besides, aren’t you excited? We are finally out of that place! Look at this city, it is beautiful!”

They had to agree with Chemie, the city of Oseford was truly a beauty, with it’s not too tall and not too small buildings and houses, all of them of a white matte, contrasting with the gray stone floor and golden ornaments. People of all races and genders walked around like busy bugs, some stopping to take a look at the occasional musician or dancer.

“It’s like a dream come true, isn’t it, Chem?”

“For sure!”

“Are we sure we want to do this in what is clearly the start of a war?”

Lavina huffed, annoyed by being ignored once again thanks to her siblings’ excitement. She wanted to be free, she really did, never before she wanted anything as much as she wanted to be free from the clutches of that stupid Galra General, but they were three concubines running away from the Galra and the Aakzeans and joining the rebels while a war was about to start.

By the time they actually reached the city, the General no doubt already noticed the absence of some of his toys and it was only a matter of time before they had to hide for dear life, rebel or no rebel.

Her siblings didn’t seem to share her worry, walking around with wonder in their eyes. The young Galra took deep breaths, trying to calm herself enough for her brain to entertain the idea of accomplishing the goal and finally being free.

“Chem, where exactly is that boyfriend of yours?”

Chemie skillfully avoided a person who clearly had every intention to try to woo her before looking over the place with a thoughtful look, scanning for someone who matched the appearance of her friend.

“Well, we were supposed to meet at the market—”she started with a curved brow and amusement filling her eyes—“But I guess an impatient man will be an impatient man, no matter what.”

Coming on their direction and frankly quite far from their determined meeting spot was Trayir Riylor.

“Why do I have the impression that you just spoke ill of me?”

“Riylor, don’t flatter yourself. I spoke ill of impatient men, you just happen to be in that group.”

“And those might be your sisters?”

“Siblings, yes. Lavina and Khamael.” Both of them smiled at him, happy to finally put a name and face to their savior.

They did not lose the flirty stares their sister and the Altean sent to each other. Good teasing material.

“I am Trayir Riylor.” He said, doing an exaggerated bow.

“The most impatient and arrogant fool there is to meet. Stop trying so hard to be charming and take us away from this place.”

“I like fiery women.”

“I like competent men.”

“As entertaining as your flirting is,” Lavina intervened, the quickly forgotten worry resurging just as quickly, “we are in a situation. I would like to live a bit more. Can we go?”

“I agree with Lavina.”

With a nod, Trayir put aside his flirty words and turned around, ready to guide them towards the Revolution base, towards their freedom. While they walked, being careful to avoid the Galra guards roaming freely, the Altean told them the newest news. How the Rebellion wasn’t going so well until a quite big amount of prisoners from the Galra base escaped. How a fragile looking alien named Lance seemed to be the mind behind the great escapade. How he and his odd friends liked to sing and dance and be loud. How they were able to—and the three could see the bitterness in his eyes, small but there—bring hope to the rag-tag army. How they weren’t rebels anymore, but revolutionaries, dreaming with their own country and freedom.

It ended with Trayir asking them what exactly would they say to General Uvoid, the leader of the Revolution. It wasn’t like he actually told her about the rescue mission, she did not need more stress on her back.

“Don’t worry about it.” Chemie waved a hand in the air, as if shooing away

I’m ‘a compel him to include women in the sequel!

“I’ll do the talking.”

Work!

“If you say so.”

Khamael almost couldn’t believe he was away from the nightmare that the harem was. Out of the three, he was the one who spent less time there, only a few months, which was considerably less time than Chemie’s two years and Lavina’s six years, and yet he could say for sure he wished to never return.

The circumstances that reduced the Aakzean prince to a trophy and toy of a repulsive man were already painful enough, but what came after almost shattered what was left of the boy’s poor heart.

Heart that was beating with hope at that moment, trying to ignore the liquid hurt flowing along his blood. Some wounds hadn’t been cured yet. Maybe they never would.

Lavina held Khamael’s hand gently, taking him away from his haunting thoughts. She threw him a comforting smile, and it turned more real as her hand was squeezed a little.

She was the youngest of the trio by maybe a year, it was hard to know in with the Aakzean and the Galra’s slow aging, but she’d been in that hell for far longer than them. She protected Chemie when, in the first weeks, her wit and fire pissed off the General. She comforted Khamael when he cried at night, victim of nightmares only betrayal could orchestrate.

And she would fight for the child inside her, guarantee they would see the sun rising.

Chemie took a glance at her siblings, immediately aware of their thoughts. Not surprising, they had a bond no one could understand, no one could interfere, created by sympathy and strengthened by pure love.

Chemie, of the three, was the one with least reason to run from that place. Other than the intense desire to have her freedom back and complete disgust towards the Galra and their disrespect to basic living needs, she didn’t really have a more urgent reason to leave. No one was waiting for her outside and, as much as she hated to admit, at least she was being treated better than the prisoners, being fed regularly and, if she was lucky enough to get the General’s attention, some luxuries like sleeping on his soft bed and some pretty clothes.

It was not a life to be proud of, and many times she considered not living at all, but then Lavina came and Chemie knew she needed to live, not for herself but for the sweet galra girl. And then Khamael came and Chemie couldn’t help but extend that love to him too. She loved them more than her own life, she’d do anything for them, she’d give them anything. And so she decided to give them something they so desperately needed and something they undoubtedly should have. She decided to give them freedom.

“I’ll miss this city, though.”

“After the Revolution, Kha, I promise you we’ll come back here.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Chem!”

“Maybe we can go somewhere together?” Trayir wiggled his brows at Chemie, who shot him an unimpressed glare.

“Riylor, stop talking and walk.”

“I really want to meet Lance, he sounds like a great person!”

Trayir snorted, but refrained from talking once the ever-sweet Lavina shot him a glare, clearly warning him against ruining Khamael’s daydreams. Lance would be a disappointment, flirting with them and annoying Chemie. Trayir had to agree, though, that the blue-eyed boy was not a bad person. Extremely annoying and quite obnoxious, but his heart was on the right place. And he also had to admit the boy was not dumb and very determined, selflessly freeing not only his friends, but a large groups of prisoners.

And he had been surprisingly at ease surrounded by so many different races of aliens, while most would take a day or two to get used to it and to put their differences aside to fight together. Acceptance. No prejudice ever shined on bluest blue eyes. No smile was forced. No word was cutting.

Yes, Trayir had to admit, Lance was an almost great person.

Could be better without the annoying part, though.

He wondered how were they after he left them. They had gone to the marked to buy some things and spread words of the Revolution to the people who believed in a different future, but Trayir feared Esperanza and Vak might do something unnecessary. They tended to rush forwards and while, yes, Traiyr could understand it, even he knew some actions would bring consequences too big for them.

He hoped Lance used that brain of his to rein them.

“We’re almost out of the city.”

“Finally!” Lavina whined, Khamael giggling besides her, swinging their joined hands.

Trayir smiled. It was heartwarming to seem them smiling and laughing. They would fit perfectly with the rag-tag group, burning hope and hard determination.

He couldn’t wait to see what type of shenanigans they would add to his life.

He also had a feeling the three would befriend a specific group of three men and one girl.

“There it is.” He pointed at the dull horizon, where the equally dull rebel camp was.

The three whispered only one word.

In the greatest city in the world

“Freedom.”