#and she's always tiny and short and petite and naive

[thestarsfightagainstusmyfriend]

Genuinely wish there was one (1) single modern retelling of Hades and Persephone in which Hades isn't 10,000 years old and Persephone isn't one day past her eighteenth birthday

[titlemewickedwonderland]

The Manager (Ghost Fic) Chapter 2

Summary: The Ministry announces an outsider coming to be part of the congregation to help with the Ghost project as a tour manager; little did the Ghoul know; she is nothing like they pictured her or how she'd affect them all.

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Chapter 1

The mass hall was flooded with Siblings of the Ministry. The large space was abuzz with a conversation among them and for the first time in a while, Ari felt overwhelmed. Despite her professionalism with Copia the night before she would be lying if she said that she was feeling the pressure. She wouldn't be directly involved with the Siblings, of course. Her main focus was the Ghost Project and the ghouls; Papa and the tour. But seeing just how large the Ministry was was kind of daunting.

She was afterall, an outsider among these people and even when she had confidence in her ability to handle her work tasks it was another thing entirely when it came to the personal touch with the Ministry; she was not naive enough to think everybody would be welcoming to her. There would be speculations, there would be rumors, and there would mostly likely be bets to see how long she'd last working with the Ghouls. They were, from what she had heard previously; a bit of a handful.

Braydon had realized this was an odd job; he'd called it from the beginning; her husband was always good with his intuition, after all. But Ari was not a quitter and she had faith in her abilities; the problem was, would the Ghouls take to her? She would not work this job unless they were on the same page - if they accepted her or not, her morality would certainly not permit her. She had high hopes for her future here.

As she walked to the coffee dispensery for her morning brew she was unaware of the eyes watching her from the back of the room. She was oblivious to them - too lost in her own thoughts. She didn't even notice when a figure came up behind her; not until she felt something tugging on her hair. Swirling around she was well prepared to reprimade whoever was playing with her hair only for her to look down to find a petite tiny creature standing in front of her.

It was a ghoul. A ghoulette by the feminine shape but she was just so small. Much smaller then even the shortest of the male ghouls Ari had seen the night before. But she was cute. Dressed in the usual black attire and goggled helmet that was of Copia's Era the ghoulette looked so...pocket sized and adorable despite knowing she was not human.

The ghoulette let out a little giggle and clasped her hands in front of her as she rocked forward; reminding Ari of a little girl.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you! I was just so masmerized by your hair, it's so pretty! Like silk. I just had to know what it felt like!" the ghoulette chirped flashing Ari a fanged smile.

"Oh!" Ari laughed a bit as she relaxed. "That's alright! I just wasn't expecting it! Thank you..." she trailed off when she realized she hadn't known the other's name.

"I'm Aurora." the ghoulette sidled up to her and poured herself a cup of orange juice. "And you must be Mrs. Whitmore! Papa had mentioned you this morning! I was very excited to meet you, you know!" Aurora said

"Well, that's very kind of you, Aurora!" Ari smiled and turned back to the station to pour some creamer into her cup of coffee. "And please, call me Ari." she added automatically.

"Ari? Is that short for something?" Aurora asked cocking her head.

"Yes, actually. It's short for Ariel. But I prefer Ari, it's more personal." and because she hated it when her husband called her Ariel. But Aurora didn't need to know that tidbit.

"Oh, that's lovely!" Aurora gushed on a dreamy sigh before turning once the women had their drinks ready. "Come on! You must go meet the others! We didn't get proper introductions before!" Aurora grabbed Ari's hand and rushed her down the aisles of long table benches all the way to the back where a group of ghouls sat.

"Good morning everybody! Have you met Ari yet?" Aurora took her place between two other female Ghouls

"Not officially." one of the other's grumbled; still too sleepy it seemed to be much of a conversationalist.

"Yes, we didn't really have much time for proper introductions since it was getting late." Ari replied looking around at the table feeling rather awkward being the only one standing.

"Oh shoot! I was supposed to come to wake you for breakfast, I'm so sorry Ari. I-" The soft-spoken ghoul from the night before began rising from his seat.

"Oh don't worry about it! I found my way around easily enough." Ari laughed waving at him as if to say it was okay while she stood sipping at her coffee.

"You gonna sit down or what?" the grumpy ghoul spoke up cocking his head to glare at her with firey orange eyes through the goggles of his mask.

"Oh I-" Ari bit her lip nervously

"Oh come on! We don't bite, we promise." one of the other ghouls with a megawatt smile spoke up as he scooted to the side making room for her to sit down.

She did so carefully and wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee as she glanced at all the other ghouls. "So, um, where do we start?" she asked

"Ah, introductions!" Aurora clapped before motioning to the Ghouls on her side of the table.

"This is Cumulus, she's our air ghoul," she motioned to a short woman with curves that Ari was instantly jealous of before moving her hand to her other side. "And this is Cirrus our other air ghoul, beside her on her other side is Mountain - he's the drummer and Earth ghoul." Aurora pipped up.

Cumulus smiled brightly and reached out to touch Ari's arm in a gesture of warmth.

"We're so glad you're here, I can already tell you'll be so much better than all the others." she chuckled.

"Those troublemakers on either side are Swiss and Dewdrop. Swiss is a Multi -ghoul and Dewdrop is our Fire Ghoul!" Cirrus piped up pointing to each of the ghouls bracketing Ari in.

"And lastly this is Phantom, he and Aurora were summoned at the same time; kind of a package deal. He's our new Quintessence ghoul. Oh and sweet Rain baby over there! Can't forget about him; he's our Water Ghoul!" Cirrus motioned to the last two of the group and Ari gave each a smile of hello.

"Wow, there are a lot of you." Ari finally responded.

"Trust me, we aren't as bad as people think we are!" Phantom smiled over at the woman who nodded thoughtfully.

"Oh, I'll be the judge of that." her blue eyes twinkled with mirth.

"So, Ari. Tell us, how'd you stumble upon Papa?" Cumulus asked propping her elbows on the table and leaning over to listen intently.

"Ah, funny story actually. You see, I come from a management background. I was originally a secretary for a law firm but the sort of environment as you can imagine gets toxic pretty quickly. I had been searching online for awhile before I stumbled upon Copia's ad for hire. Got in contact with him and well, he seemed to like what he was hearing so. Here I am!" she lifted up her hands

"What does the mister think of your new job?" Cirrus tapped the table as her gaze fell onto the woman's hand. "Presuming there is a mister?"

Ari subconsciously grabbed her ring; twisting it around her finger and her smile was tight but the ghouls watching her could tell there was more behind the story then her words.

"Yeah, my husband Braydon um...he's a detective for the local police. His reaction to this job was well...concerned I suppose. It's not every day your wife gets a job at a Satanic church." she chuckled a bit despite her awkwardness.

"I mean, I don't blame him. Maybe he'll warm up to the idea once he knows you're doing good here." Rain offered a smile of encouragement and Ari just nodded but her eyes said a different thing.

"Yeah, maybe."

The table got silent aftward and Ari just stared down at her cup of coffee lost in thought. The truth behind her relationship with her husband was more complicated than she wanted to let on. They'd been married for the last 5 years but in the 2 years, their relationship was becoming strained. It hadn't always been like that, the first 2 years had been amazing; all through the honeymoon phase and all. But then Ari had gotten a higher paying position at her law firm and Braydon had been appointed as a detective within months of each other and that meant stressful days at work and a shit ton of piled work to do - you could imagine they didn't often see each other.

Ari suspected Braydon may be cheating on her but she never had proof. But when they worked long hours and barely got to see each other it put a strain on the relationship. It was hard and Braydon wasn't too thrilled at this new prospect of the job she took on but she needed this.

A hand softly gripped her arm and the woman lifted her gaze to meet Phantom's across the table, there was a sheen of concern in her gaze through the goggles of his mask as he gave her a small smile.

"You okay?"

Quintessence ghoul, right. He probably sensed something off about her emotions. Ari plastered a smile on her face and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking of where to start with work." she laughed a bit but it was hollow as she pulled her arm from his grasp and rose from the table with her now empty cup.

"Thank you, guys, for welcoming me this morning, but I do have to go sort out all those folders left by the previous managers. If you need anything don't hesitate to come by, I'll be in Copia's office. I have a feeling I may need some of his input." she said

"Oh okay..."

"Hey don't be a stranger okay?" Swiss added giving her a little wave.

"Likewise." Ari smiled before turning and heading for the doors, tossing her disposable coffee cup into the trash on her way.

She managed to find her way back to her room and once inside she pressed against the door and let out a sigh before shaking off her gloom and went to grab the folders and carrier case before leaving to head to Copia's office.

When she arrived she knocked, patiently waiting for a reply before turning the knob and walked inside with a warm smile on her face when she saw the man hunched over a pile of paperwork he was grumbling at. As she entered Copia lifted his head to look at her and his grumpy expression softened a bit.

"Ah, Ari. I hope you slept well, were the quarters to your liking?" he asked.

"They were, thank you!" she assured him before waving the folders in front of her. "I just met the ghouls in the breakfast hall. They are an interesting bunch but I'm sure we'll work together just fine. Would you mind if I borrow your company for a bit with these? I may have some questions."

"Si si! Please make yourself comfortable. I could use the break from this buffoonery." the man chuckled as he leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

Ari smiled sympathetically knowing full well how frustrating paperwork could be when you weren't one who liked to do that work. She moved further into the room and settled herself down on his office sofa; pulling the coffee table a little closer and began spreading out the files in front of her.

A comfortable silence fell in the pair; the sound of papers turning was the only sound that was accompanying the sound of the fan in the room. Copia's office was lavished with dark colors, leathers, and bookshelves but it was cozy still especially with the candles scenting the air with their rich flavor so Ari found herself relaxing and focusing on the work in front of her without too much trouble. She didn't realize that Copia had been sitting there watching her in silence for a good 15 minutes; just watching the expressions that twisted her face as her thoughts processed what she was reading.

At last, she looked up with an exasperated look. "Copia, what kind of people were you hiring for this job? These files are a mess and the numbers are all wrong!"

"Oh?" the papa asked frowning.

Ari nodded and picked up one sheet of paper waving it in front of her. "The financial part of the tour is all off. There are receipts missing, numbers aren't adding up, and I'm pretty sure there are extra expenses that were cashed in that have nothing to do with the tour needs." she pursed her lips.

"What in Satanas name?" Copia huffed and unfolded himself from his office chair before making his way over to sit beside her on the sofa; peering down at the jumble of numbers and printout of receipts.

"See here, this is the budget that was agreed upon for your last tour." Ari circled a line of numbers with her pen before circling another part. "This is what was spent on tour expenses; or what is being claimed as tour expenses. But if you look here on this list of receipts there is a good chunk of money missing that didn't have a corresponding receipt." the young woman said as she jotted down a few marks and notes at the corner of the sheet of paper.

She grabbed her calculator and began typing out numbers before showing it to him. "There is at least $1800 missing that doesn't add up to the rest of the expense. Do you know what that was being used for? Were there some extra expenses that you had to use? A broken instrument or maybe a wardrobe issue that you needed to buy?"

Copia gazed at the paper and shook his head - his brow furrowing in confusion. "No, the tour went perfectly smooth last month," he stated grabbing the paper to examine further.

"My only other idea was your manager who was in charge of all of this was taking money from you guys to spend on...whatever the hell it was they wanted to buy without permission. That's why you're down nearly 2k." she said.

"Oh, Lucifer help me." Copia rubbed his forehead and muttered something in Italian.

"Hey don't stress, it can easily be fixed, and get your money back but that'll involve a bit of an investment to make that money back." Ari soothed as she rubbed his back. "I'm thinking if we can order an extra installment of merch for the next tour and cut back on a hotel stay or two we should be back on track. Are you okay with that?" she asked.

"Si si." Copia agreed nodding slowly.

"Good, I'll jot some notes down and see what else we can do to help balance the books some more. Oh, before I forget did you have a schedule for the ghouls for their practice sessions and stuff I can work on?" she added as she began packing up the file she was working on.

"Ah, si. There should be a schedule sheet in one of these files. We haven't changed the schedules much. I think the ghouls have an extra few days off though after we get home from tour that we've implanted to give them time to decompress."

Ari nodded. "Good good. Okay. I can work around that." she fiddled with the other files as she skimmed through them and the pair fell silent again.

"Thank you, Mio caro." Copia suddenly spoke up causing the woman to look up with surprise.

"For what Copia?" she laughed a bit.

"For taking on this job. We know it is a big ask and well...you're the most capable person we've had thus far who seems to know what they are doing. I feel as if we will be in good hands." Copia smiled as her and she returned it with a kind one of her own.

"I enjoy this type of work Copia, and I appreciate the opportunity. It's not every day someone gets to work with a famous band." she gave a playful wink

"Si." Copia gave a laugh before ending it on a sigh and slapped his knees. "Well, I should probably get back to work eh?"

"Unless you'd like Sister Imperator on your ass then I should think so." Ari teased.

"Ah, you met Seester?"

"I did. We met when I arrived last night. Severe looking woman but she's not half bad. I don't imagine I'd be working with her a lot though." Ari confessed as she turned back to her files.

Copia hummed thoughtfully before he sat back down and picked up his pen to look over his notes again.

The pair worked in silence after that until late in the evening when someone knocked on the door. It opened and a ghoulette's head poked in.

"Sorry to intrude Papa. But would we be able to steal Ms. Ari for a little while?" Cirrus spoke up.

"Ah, si. I think it's late enough Mio Caro. Why don't you go relax until dinner? You can sit with me at the table and meet my brothers." Copia winked.

Ari stretched with a sigh. "If you're sure Copia." she finally said as she began packing up her things and putting them away.

"No no! Tesero! Leave your things here, you are more than welcome to use my space for your work! Just put them over there in that cubby whenever you're done with your work!" Copia rose from his chair and rounded the table to help put away her files into a cabinet in the corner.

"Oh, are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your personal space Copia!" Ari protested with a frown.

"Nonsense! I enjoy your company far more than if I were alone here. You are family now so please make yourself at home!" the man replied lifting her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

Ari smiled warmly at him. "Thank you." she replied before finishing up putting her things into the cabinet.

"Alright, well I'll see you later tonight then!" Ari waved at the papa before heading over to Cirrus.

When they entered the hall she found Cumulus and Aurora waiting for them. "Oh, what's this? Am I in trouble?" she squinted playfully causing the women to laugh and shake their heads.

"No! We just wanted to show you something. It's a surprise!" Aurora chirped linking her arm through Ari's and beginning to lead her back toward the Ghoul's wing.

But instead of going to her assigned chambers, the girls went further down the hall to stop at the double doors leading into the Ghoul's hall. She was ushered inside and was left speechless on the threshold.

The Ghoul's wing felt like some sort of one-floor mansion with an open space, a comfortable exterior that reminded Ari of an old Victorian-style mansion, and the air was filled with the scent of rich incense that was burning from holders in different spots of the large living space filled with couches, beanbags, and other furniture.

"Wow. Well, this wasn't expected." she mumbled as she was led further inside to the common room where the other ghouls were waiting.

"Surprise!" Swiss held up his hands motioning to something by the fireplace and Ari turned her head to look and found bundles of wrapped gifts and bags sitting on the stone platform.

"What's all this?" Ari asked confused as she was led to sit down in a large overstuffed bean bag beside Rain.

"It's a 'welcome to the Ministry' party!" Cumulus gushed. "We wanted to thank you by doing something special for you!"

"Thank me? But I haven't done anything yet?" Ari laughed looking around at all the masked faces.

"Perhaps not, but uh...well..." Rain scratched the back of his neck. "We could already tell right off the bat that you'd be a good fit for the band and the project. You've been kind to us and treated us fairly even after only being here for less than a day. We just wanted to thank you for agreeing to take us on."

"We don't do this to every manager we get so just shut up and be grateful." Dewdrop crossed his arms looking away.

"Well of course I am! I'm just confused since I haven't done anything for you guys yet." Ari replied shaking her head.

"You gave us the time of day and treated us with equality...not like an object. That's enough for us." Phantom said as he grabbed a few of the presents from the pile and passed them over to her.

"Go on and open it!" Aurora bounced on the sofa beside Mountain.

Ari laughed and began to carefully open the packages that were handed one by one to her. In all, she had a beautiful leather bag that smelled of fresh leather and polish with intricate designs on it and buckles that she'd gotten from Swiss because according to him; her current bag was threads and she couldn't possibly go walking around with such a thing.

She'd gotten a new journal from Phantom that she could write notes, schedules, and such on for easier access and less hassle to work with when she got to work. It was beautiful black leather bound with a leather tie and had a cool-looking design of a Japanese zen garden etched into the leather. She loved it as she traced the delicate engravings imagining herself carrying this thing around her all the time.

From Aurora, Ari received the most beautiful gemstone necklace she'd ever seen. To most people, it may have been plain. But the entwining of the metal around the stone. A rough-cut moonstone clasped within the metal wrapped around it. She had said the Moonstone was a symbol of new beginnings, inner growth, and strength.

From Cumulus, Ari had received a music box; it was black with gold engravings with a paneled picture of the moon and stars. The music box played a melody that she wasn't familiar with but it was beautiful and melodic while an angel spun around in the middle.

Rain was so sweet and gave her a bath set filled with bath salts, soaps, candles, sugar scrubs, and more for a spa day. The scents were so sweet and she couldn't stop smelling the bar of soap causing Rain to duck his head in a bashful display of embarrassment when she thanked him for the thoughtful gift. Ari didn't remember the last time she had time to actually enjoy a good bath to help ease a stressful day so the gesture was sweet of him and she planned on using it whenever she got the next chance.

Cirrus had gifted her a few new articles of clothing. A few pairs of comfy jeans, a few sweaters that were fleece or knitted, a few pairs of fuzzy socks for comfort, and a long trench coat to help keep her warm in the coming months. They smelled like her perfume and Ari had a thought the ghoulette had purposefully sprayed her favorite perfume she always wore onto them.

Mountain's gift had been this beautiful chest hand carved by his own hand with flowers; but that wasn't all, inside was a little packet of seeds that he said were seeds belonging to the flowers Iris, Hyacinth, and Alstroemeria. He said he was planning to plant them in the garden in her honor. It was a sweet gesture and Ari thanked him with a warm heartfelt smile.

Lastly, Dewdrop's. His was a little confusing because it was small and seemingly uncaring. It was a pick. A guitar pick to be precise. A black pick with the Ghost band sigil engraved on the front and his element sigil on the back. At first, she was confused until Dewdrop's grumpy self explained in not too many words that it was hers to use despite not having a guitar...until he clarified it would be the pick she used when he gave her guitar lessons. It was only then that Ari realized his gift wasn't actually the pick but more of the gift of his time. As sort of an olive branch to her - a chance to spend time with him and get to know him. To bond. She could already tell Dewdrop was one of little words and he didn't get along with a lot of people so to have this opportunity given by him was something big and important to him.

"Thank you guys. All of these are such sweet gifts and so thoughtful." Ari smiled down at the pile of things in her lap. She wasn't expecting this kind of gesture from them so it did strike a chord in her; they were trying to be her friend. Giving her the green light and letting her know not with words but with their gifts that they were accepting her into their fold. So Ari knew, just because of this; she'd make sure to cherish not only the gifts but the givers as well and give back to them in the only way she knew how. By being their friend and by being the best she could be for them.

"Aw, damn you aren't going to cry are you?" Dewdrop looked over at her seeing the look on Ari's face.

"No!" Ari chuckled despite the emotion choking her up. "But all of this...it's so sweet of you guys. Thank you."

"You already said that." the fire ghoul grumbled as he grabbed a beer from the carrier on the coffee table. "Now can we drink or what?"

"Sounds good to me! Want one Ari?" Swiss asked as he grabbed one for himself.

"Sure, I'll have one." Ari agreed as she grabbed a bottle from his offered hand.

"I think this will be great. This partnership." Mountain leaned back against the couch and smiled to himself.

"You know what Mountain? I think so too." Ari shared his smile before taking a sip from her bottle.

~

Chapter 3

[straightlikewetspaghetti]

Perfection

Pairings: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: None

Word count: 1900

Bea Hughes was not a spoiled brat like most of the young people of Belvoire and with the successful completion of her schooling she went straight into police work. Ever since she was a child, she had fought for her own, without any tariffs and faced human envy and selfishness. That's why when she got the job as an officer, she was determined to make this town perfect.

Perfection is a relative term. She knew she couldn't bring Belvoire to that state on her own, but she still hoped that her hard work would bear fruit. She was used to failure, but she did not allow herself to be broken. Just once. God, only once had she bowed to the pressure of her own demons and failed. So shamefully that nothing but a stone mask had graced her face ever since.

Unaccustomed to balls and parties, Bea was faced with a difficult choice: whether to follow society's acceptance and wear a frighteningly beautiful and sweet dress that completely did not suit her, or a simple, elegant suit whose graphite color matched her feelings. With a touch of distrust, she ran her fingers over the delicate material of the dress and held her breath in her chest. The coolness of the material irritated her fingertips, which were warm compared to the silky material, scratching her every now and then with the sewn-on sequins. This was not what she wanted. Not the sweetness and extravagance, but the passion and simplicity the suit would provide.

She had never needed society's approval so much, so with a sigh of relief she reached for the graphite material and nimbly threw it on. With a simple and careful movement, she tied the tie around her neck, which tightened like a noose against her pale rosy skin. Later today, people would hang her with words for this outfit, just as they had done in the past.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the gun holster that rested lazily on the elegant white bedside table. Taking that object in her hand, a shiver ran through her body, one that she always felt when touching the cool metal of a gun. Pure adrenaline, it was a feeling she so needed, and at the same time, didn't want to have. Tonight was all about perfection.

In front of her house stood a perfectly polished Ford Crown, its black and white hues exuding a sleek look. Tonight, however, because of the required elegance of the show, Bea brought along her beloved Ford Mustang that she inherited from her parents. It was the last thing they had left that would always have an important place in her heart and life. Slipping into the driver's seat, she let out a shaky breath. She was getting closer and closer to disaster. A sea of piranhas that were ready to tear her apart on the spot and, as usual, with stoic, even irritating, calmness, she would let them.

Keep calm. Be perfect.

Entering the monster's liege, she adjusted the tie one last time to make the noose let go, at least for a moment. She knew it was worth trying, even with poor results. Complete failure was never an option.

With uncertain and cautious steps, she glided deeper into the darkness. The smell of cigarettes and expensive alcohol irritated her nostrils and her face bent in an unnatural grimace. And although she herself sometimes did not shy away from alcohol, today it seemed extremely irritating. After all, spoiled brats are allowed everything, which disgusted Bea at the very thought.

After making her way through the dark corridor, a bright light flashed across her eyes, like passing through a magical portal, where a completely different world awaited her on the other side. The smell of alcohol intensified as the ballroom appeared to her eyes, bursting at the seams with an overwhelming amount of people. Most of them complete strangers to her, they were carelessly prancing to the beat of simple, primitive music, feeling none of the dangers of adulthood.

"Bea Hughes!" she heard a drunken yell behind her and let the air out of her lungs loudly.

Zoey Wade, her closest and pretty much the only friend she had spoken to in her school days. The complete opposite of her, a complete lack of perfection. Still, Bea felt a strong attraction to her, a need for adrenaline that her friend's behavior always satisfied. In her younger days an unknowable curiosity, today it is familiar and damned by every possible layer of society.

"Zoey Wade," she replied with an undisguised wince. This girl continued to be a harbinger of trouble. The brunette tilted her head gently to the side to carefully examine the silhouette hiding behind her friend.

A young girl with a radiant smile caught her eye. Her hair glinted like gold every now and then, shimmering in waves of colored lights. Bea thrust her hands into her pockets and shamelessly fed off the sight of this beautiful creature. Low and petite in stature, completely vulnerable and innocent.

Perfect.

"Who is this beauty you brought yourself?", she asked nonchalantly, directing her gaze back to her friend's eyes. Zoey cringed, and her eyes popped wide open. The brunette was taken aback by this reaction and shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"Are you talking about my cousin Poppy?", her friend's eyes flashed in semi-darkness as she corrected her posture after that unfavorable reaction.

Bea's lips tightened into a straight line, and soft wrinkles appeared on her face as she became lost in her thoughts. She thought back to the carefree days when she and Zoey would play in the backyard together, paying no attention to the different level of social classes they came from. It was not easy for a simple girl to play with the mayor's daughter. The black-haired girl adored Bea so much that her parents allowed them to hang out, but they made no secret of their disgust with the lower class, reminding her at every turn that she was beneath them.

Finally, one day the cup overflowed and Bea decided to take revenge for all the mental harm done to her. She took away their perfection. After that incident, she was no longer the same carefree person. She closed herself off and put on a stone mask, becoming a merciless jerk.

"If it was your cousin, I would remember. Believe me", she shrugged her shoulders. Her hungry gaze, once again, returned to the blonde, who was dancing with some boy just as she once had, free of her demons. Her movements innocent, made the blood boil in Bea's veins. She licked her parched lips with the tip of her tongue and struggled to swallow the growing lump in her throat.

"She didn't live near us. She's been in New York most of her life because her parents didn't want a simple life for her," she paused for a moment to wet her tongue in the percent golden liquid. "She's a lawyer."

"And everyone's favorite," Bea's throat went dry as she heard the angelic voice of young Sinclair gracelessly slung over her cousin's shoulder. The strong floral scent of her perfume, beat down the bitter stench of sweat and alcohol. The brunette's chest tightened, unable to rise or fall any further.

Get a grip on yourself.

„We don't know each other yet”, she flashed her an overly sweet smile. „Poppy Min Sinclair, lawyer, cousin to that dolt and future Mrs. Jackson.”

Bea lowered her gaze to the small and delicate hand with perfectly filed and painted nails that was extended toward her. She reciprocated the grip and when her thumb wrapped around the top of the blonde's hand, she froze. Her gaze traveled from her tiny, long fingers to the milky white skin of her exposed arms.

Adrenaline.

She needed it.

No.

She needed her.

And she always got what she wanted.

***

After several hours of constant talking and faking any interest, Bea stopped for a short break at the snack table. The atmosphere was so artificial that, for a brief moment, she even felt like she fit into this environment. As if no one there was judging her. How naive that trajectory of thinking was.

It was time for the worst part of the show: the dancing. She preferred to dance with men, although even this was not without a few indiscreet whispers. Because how is it possible for a woman and a man to dance both in a suit. It was so imperfect. Moments passed and so did the partners. Bea felt tired of listening to the stories of everyone she danced with. The most she could think of right now was to sit in her favorite chair with a glass of scotch. That was her wish until someone tapped her gently on the shoulder.

"Hey stranger, care to dance?", the wide smile on Poppy's face softened her heart, not even allowing her to refuse. As a police officer she stuck to the rules, but for this girl she was able to break them.

She returned the smile and found them a free spot on the dance floor. She felt soft hands wrap around her neck and the girl's forehead fell against her chest. Surprised by this closeness, she uncertainly placed her hands on her slender waist, but without moving closer so that their bodies were at a relatively safe distance.

"You intrigue me", she whispered innocently, swaying lazily to the beat of the music. Bea's throat became dry and before she could get anything out, the girl continued. "You show up here in the middle, trying to sit in the dark, and you look quite unhappy", boldness in her words earned her some respect from the brunette. "You seem to be completely different from everyone else here. Why?", Poppy lifted her head and found Bea's mysteriously gleaming eyes in the semi-darkness.

If the blonde had only known why Bea didn't belong here, she would have fled in terror like everyone else. Poppy was a lawyer, a fiancée, her life must have been so perfect she surely never experienced a blemish on her porcelain skin. Skin whose emanating warmth she could feel with every scrap of her taut body.

"So it seems", she replied indifferently, shoving all incorrect thoughts to the back of her mind. "Is it appropriate for you, the lawyer and future Mrs. Jackson, to maintain such closeness with a stranger?", she changed the subject turning the attention away from herself

She watched carefully as the girl's face changed expression, and only for a moment did she feel the need to close the distance and seal her lips in a kiss.

"I...", Poppy was about to say something, but she stopped at the beginning of her sentence. Any trace of a smile disappeared from her face. "I have to go now.", she said mysteriously, sounding like a completely different person, which drew interest from the brunette. She stood on her toes and innocently brushed her lips against the other girl's cheek, stopping near her ear. "Come tomorrow with my cousin to the wedding dress salon for my fitting. The more the better."

Bea nodded, watching the blonde's silhouette disappear among the rest of the dancing partygoers. Automatically her hand went to the place where Poppy's mouth had been and she sighed heavily.

This couldn't end well.

[nctzendreamz]

HOMECOMING • PROLOGUE

Prologue / Part l / Part ll / Part lll

Summary: The year is 3030, and the divide between the rich and poor couldn’t be greater. Wildwood University is the most prestigious school in the entire world, but it isn’t only because of the impeccable flying cars that can be seen best during the fuchsia lit nights, or the dexterous education everyone receives. It has secrets. A lot of secrets.

Genre: Gang!AU, Futuristic!AU 

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of violence, foul language, drug use, and murder.

Author’s Note: I love you all. I hope you will love this rollercoaster of emotions as much as I do.

Once upon a time, there was a boy. This boy was gentle, and loved to explore. Sometimes, he’d even allow his imagination to posses his body, pretending he was something he knew he’d never be, such as a racecar driver, a superhero, or his favorite—loved.

Now, as that boy travels down the dark corridor that lead to his instructor, he can’t help but to smile. His left hand caresses the mangled brick wall, reminding him of every waste of space that had been dismembered in his sanctuary. Even the two men who were unnecessarily escorting him down the dimly lit space seemed frightened at the way he lightly chuckles to himself, but they know if they look at him wrong, he’ll simply kill them too.

As they approach what was known as the “black door”, he knocks a familiar tune, informing the man on the other side it was one of his own.

With an almost cinematic effect, all of the locks audibly unravel, and a flashing light blinks onto his face, silently giving him permission to step in. He looks around, trying to see if any new souvenirs had been added to the otherwise plain walls, but he sees nothing fresh. The picture of all of the boys of NEO rests in the center of the large room, and as always, he spots himself first. 

“Lee Taeyong.”  A deep voice addresses, obviously coming from the leather chair which was turned the opposing way. 

“Mr. Sooman.” He bows, although the man couldn't see him. They didn’t have the technology for such a myth, but there was always a fear he had eyes in the back of his head.

The chair slowly begins to turn, revealing the only person in this world that brought fear into Taeyong. His current sadistic smile was a testament to that, as well as the sweat that began to form under the arms of the boy. 

“Why so stiff? It’s just me, your father?” He teases.

“My apologies.” Was all Taeyong could muster, now wanting nothing more than to get straight to the point. He wanted his mission.

“Did you take your pill today?”

“Of course I did.” He lied.

“Then why are you so jittery? He eyes the slim boy suspiciously, standing up now.

Taeyong decides on silence, as he doesn’t want to speak his truth to his father figure. His eyes once again fall on the photo hanging, and he tries to relax himself by focusing on his hair color. He can now vaguely see it’s raging orange print, probably the most color he’d ever see in his lifetime.

His meditation is interrupted with the sound of two precise claps, and a tiny robot now at his feet projecting light onto the blank wall. What seemed like millions of photos appear one by one, and so much color. Even though it was faded, he was still incredibly fascinated.

His eyebrows are raised ever so slightly, and his mouth waters, yet, he can still sense his elder approaching him. It ran through his blood to do so. He always had to be on guard. If anyone was able to run up on you, and hurt you even slightly, you’d most likely be murdered by the others because—how can you be so dumb? How can you sleep at night without the feeling of someone watching you? Your hairs stand up, a chill stretches against you. It’s very simple, actually.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Wildwood?”

Taeyong snaps his focus back on the man who’s eyes were watching him intently. “Yes. Founded in 2002 by Lobos Smith. Known as the most prestigious, and honorable university in the world. They specialize in futuristic science, and were the first school to perfect the seemingly impossible flying car. In short, rich motherfuckers.” He spat, feeling his blood pressure heighten at the mention of wealthy.

“Very good, boy.” Mr. Sooman continues to circle his apprentice, as the wood floor creaks with his every step. “As you know, we’ve always had buisness with the Smith’s.”

Taeyong nods confidently, showing with his body language that he was genuinely aware of this fact.

“Well, I want you to kill them.”

The screen zooms into four faces, none of them familiar to him. A man, a woman, a girl, and a boy.

“This is the Smith family. Maleen Smith, President of Wildwood. His wife, Bianca, his son Johnny, and your most important target, Y/N.”

“Why is she the most important?” Taeyong questions, finally getting comfortable in his element. You could say what you wanted about him, but you couldn’t deny his manipulative talents, and serious approach for his job. He was always thirsty for blood.

“Because she is their pride and joy.” Mr. Sooman responds with a devilish grin, clearly knowing more than he was revealing. “Sweet girl, smart girl, naive girl.”

“So what? You want me and the guys to meet them for dinner or something? Blast their heads off?” 

The team of NEO was a dangerous one, and everyone who lived in this hell knew it. Their kills were always vicious, but the handmade masks they wore during their greatest hits hid their identity. All of them were specifically designed to the personalities of the boys, and their set skills. Taeyong, for example, always spotted a bedazzled fox, labeled red although he had yet to test that to be true. It was a metaphor to his sly nature, always able to easily grab the attention of clueless street-walkers. They were so awful at selling, and making deals for drugs that made people go off the charts. So easy to take advantage of.

They were essentially target practice. Something to play with. A pure rush; giving them their fix of killing and feeling superior because in any of situation, they were powerless. They were poor, and every fucking day did they have to watch projections of news from the other side. So many new inventions. More ways to protect the earth from falling back to its horrid ways. The way NEO looked. Dirty—dull.

Taeyong’s hand naturally reaches for his weapon that was always stashed in his pants, and quite a few scenarios run through his brain; different approaches that could be taken. “Call the meeting and consider it done, sir.”

“While I do appreciate your hungry nature, boy; I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re the only person in this room right now, haven’t you?” The undertone of his voice reads nothing but menace, and Taeyong is truly trying his hardest to prevent his eyes from squeezing shut, or letting a mere drip of sweat dazzle from his forehead onto the ground. It would reveal he did indeed lie about taking his pill, and that would mean he’d have to double up.

“I have noticed, but I figured that I was in here because I’m the most superior.”

In reality, he wasn’t such a cocky bastard. At least, when he wasn’t high off of Indigo. That was the drug Sooman kept pestering him about, and it was what seperared NEO from the rest of the poor souls who lived in this baseless city. That’s what they were told.

Indigo made them strong, and it made them unstoppable. The more they took, the greater their kills felt, and the more their talents shined. Some were more addicted than others, and didn’t care about the black and white scenery that covered their headspace. Others, like Taeyong, planned to sneak up to the rooftop of the building tonight and see the sky, even if it would be half colored, half gray. At least that was the plan, before now.

They were always told that if they didn’t take their pill, the side effects would be deadly. Taeyong now knows this to be true, as his anxiety couldn’t be more intense in an environment where he was usually light and easy, and his mind is spinning. Random spurts of color can be seen everytime he moves his eyes in another direction, and even the colors on the projector are incredibly detailed.

“So you did take your pill today.” The man laughs, patting him on the back. “You’re right, you know.” His voice is light now, almost like a switch removing his dark demeanor. The sound of the floor creaking was practically making Taeyong lose his mind, but he can’t show it. “You are the best. And that is why this mission isn’t going to just be a ‘get the job done’ kind of mission.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” He reaches for his back pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. It was folded into three, and Taeyong can feel his eyebrows basically touching, and his petite nose scrunching as he opened up his mail.

“Congratulations on being excepted into Wildwood University! Founded in 2002, it’s always been Wildwood’s mission to accept the best, so the future can be bright! Lee Taeyong, we cannot wait for you to transfer to our school of futuristic science, and see all you have to offer the brightest side of the world!”

That was all he had to see before he looks up in shock, clearly unable to believe in such an opportunity.

“I’m going—

“Yes. You, a poor boy, going to their world.”

“And I’m going to invade.” He seemingly finished.

“You’re not just going to invade. You’re going to make that girl fall in love with you, and you’re going to make those wealthy pieces of shit trust you, and then—when they finally accept you as their son, and that girl would die for you, you will bring them to me.”

“Like a parasite.”

“No. You, my boy, were born to eliminate the parasites. They don’t deserve to multiply, or reproduce.”

Maybe it was because of the lack of intoxication, but Taeyong feels himself getting too excited about this. The manipulation was excellent, and the plan couldn’t fail. He was charming in all aspects of the word.

“What did they do to you?” Was his final question. He once again is in a stare down with the older man infront of him, who had returned to his seat now.

“They took something from us, and they have to pay. No mistake goes unseen in NEO. You know that.”

“I won’t let you down, sir.” Taeyong bows, just as he did when he originally walked in. The respect was clear, even if the roots of the plan seemed eerie. He trusted his leader with his life, and if he said someone needed to die, it was the truth. He was going to bring their heads back on a silver fucking platter.

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

We Made It (Peaces With The Past)

Title: We Made It (Peaces With The Past)

Word Count: 2,318

Warnings: Vague mentions of fighting but that’s it!

Summary: So with the new year just rung in and my birthday right around the corner, I’ve been reflecting on the past and dwelling on the future a lot. Yet one thing I can lay to rest is my younger self’s worries of ever making it. I may be facing struggles still in this upcoming decade but I’ve made progress and I’m happy with it. Happy New Year...

Shimmers of azure twinkled against a twilight backdrop as souls all over the world lit up in harmony, screaming out the final countdown. Despite time-zones, beliefs, looks, and riches among other bottomless chasms of differences, it seemed that for one night the world had unified to celebrate the entrance of new beginnings. That was the picture from a faraway perspective, but there were countless souls whose personal lights flickered beneath the fireworks and the warm neon glow that signified pure jubilance. One such person was that of a ten-year-old girl who sat on splintering wooden steps just outside of the rusty tin can that society had granted her family as a temporary home.

The girl sat, wrapped within the blanket of darkness with only the occasional glimmer of scarlet from the crookedly standing nearby streetlamp piercing through when it flickered on. Her short stature trembled from the harsh slaps of the frigid gale. It left her ivory skin to flush a pinkish hue and her face that already had froze by now to burn with a raw irritation. Shivers raked down her spine as drunken screams of joy were whispered on the wind from the nearby pub which left the corners of her pursed lips to twitch upwards ever so slightly. Although as the metal walls reverberated with another harsh slam and continuous screeching from three familiar parties, the subtle smile faltered once more to a frightened pout. Her feet ached to jump down the creaking planks and along the highway that rested just outside of this toxic park to anywhere that wasn’t here, yet her steps stayed glued to the step of long peeling paint. Her thoughts rushed to think up any scenario that could hold an ounce of joy in it yet her darkened pools continued to blankly stare across the crumbled parking lot and tiny, wilted excuses for lawns. That is until a silhouette appeared in the girl’s peripheral vision, drawing closer by the second as if it was it was just as fixated on this scrunched up speck of a girl as she was on it.  

In the shadowy scene that played before her alert gaze, this one figure continued to grow just as the forming pit of dread did within the girl’s stomach. Not caring if she scuffed up or even cut open her hands, the little girl scurried back to the furthest corner of her small square porch to hide. Her bleary stare remained focused on this shadow while the pressure on her chapped bottom lip intensified from the way she bit down on it. The moments that passed in this standstill felt like hours and even the deafening screams of joy and anger from all around had seemingly been muted. When the old street lamp blinked on once again, the nauseating dread building within her was cured seeing as the bulky form that was almost stalking her was revealed to be just a lost-looking girl, a pretty one at that in the smaller girl’s eyes.

The other lady looked like she stepped right out of a scene of the little girl’s favorite romance shows. With charcoal-colored boots that seemed painted up her lower legs and a carmine colored skirt that flowed around her with every admittedly clumsy step that was only obscured by the plush, monochromatic coat that hung off her petite shoulders and tickled her lilac tresses, the miserably hidden girl couldn’t help but drop her mouth in awe. Although what really caught the girl’s attention was when their earthly orbs met and a timid but beaming smile brightened up the mysterious lady’s features. The longer she watched, the less fear the little girl felt, having it replaced with a trembling concern for the other lady instead. From the way she stumbled along, it seemed that she was tipsy which wouldn’t be uncommon for this time and place but her naively curious features etched in her face made the little girl worried that this lady would find trouble.

Taking a strained swallow, the little girl finally spoke up. “Uh, hey Miss, are you okay? Do you need help finding your trailer or room?”

In the dim light was nearly missed but a pang of insecurity flashed within the lady’s irises before she waved her hand and jovially replied, “Oh no, I’m alright! I just walk this way because of something I deal with. Thank you though.”

The line this faded lavender locked lady delivered sparked a flame of familiarity within the girl. It sounded so similar to the ones she used to explain away her ailments that the familiar flash burned the little girl’s insides with guilt. Hastily stuttering out an apology before self-consciousness could swallow the strangers up, the little girl then questioned if there was something that she could help this woman with.

“Nah, I’m just visiting. I used to live here but a lot has happened since so I figured I come back to simply reflect and ring in the New Year right, you know? I hope I didn’t scare you.”

The girl frantically shook her head, sending hickory locks this way and that as her mind short-circuited at the thought of someone seemingly so sweet and well-minded ever belonging to this radical residency. A shelter which was a downtrodden place filled with bloodshot stares, sinister smiles, and other symptoms of poor, unfortunate souls. “No, you didn’t, I promise! But you used to live here?”

“Yup, had to because of my family. It’s strange how things haven’t changed a bit.”

The entire time this mysterious mistress’s sights were surveying the area in which she stood but as she remarked on how unchanged it was, her gaze focused in on the girl who still cowered in the corner. The little girl wanted to inquire about what this woman meant but before she could, another loud crash from inside stole the momentary silence that hung between them. Without meaning to, a quiet whimper was voiced from the little girl but it was drowned out by more throat-tearing yelling on how one party in that three-way fight was to blame before the blame was passed with another thrown punch between father and stepson. Although it was no more than muffled noise to the formally clothed woman, it still had the same effect it did on the young girl who heard every word loud and clear. The shouting carved into their chests like a dull knife to leave them hollowed out with a festering would that ached like it could never be fixed.

With a sympathetic sigh pushing past her peach lips, the sweet stranger brought a hand to cover her face as she watched the younger girl break before her. “I am so, so sorry sweetheart.”

Hiccupping through heavy breaths, the hickory haired girl began rubbing at the tears stridently streaming down her cheeks. “N-no, it’s okay. I’m-I’m sorry that you had to hear it.”

“That’s not your fault sweetie! Hey, why don’t you come with me to the store next door? A treat might do you good.”

“I would,” The girl whispered as her trembling fingers left her face and her arms wrapped around her knees instead. “But I don’t have any money on me. I don’t wanna—”

“Hey, don’t worry about that. I do and I’d be happy to share.”

Hesitantly, the shivering girl pondered if this stranger was sure but when she received a nod of affirmation from them. The chocolate locked girl stiffly shifted to hands and knees before taking a shaky stand. Sneaking down the steps so that they couldn’t groan in disapproval, the little girl soon stood next to the lady who was quickly becoming her idol before the pair began their journey.

Along the way, the younger lady introduced herself with the name of, Rebecca. Shortly after doing so, did the seemingly endless thanking of her companion continued. The girl clad in the crimson dress only smiled and assured Rebecca that it would be a pleasure to do so, before returning the favor of revealing her nickname as “Big Sis” or in shorter terms, “Sis”. Quiet quelled the restlessness within the two as their tired trek had led them along worn, gravel pathways and past dimly lit windows that gave mere glimpses to only God knew what. But when the pair reached the minuscule clearing of trees that acted as the boundary between one property and the next, Rebecca took a pause.

“Hey Sis, can I ask how you got out of here?”

Looking down at the smaller girl beside her, Big Sis’s expression contorted to one of confusion. Her lips parted to make way for an answer yet none came. With an arched brow, she instead responded with another question; one that asked for clarification.

“I really hope I don’t sound edgy but this place is so draining. The longer I stay, the more it feels is stripped away and I’ve noticed I’m not the only one. So how did you go on and rebuild yourself afterward, or more like what did you do to comfort yourself while here?”

“Ah,” Sis hummed in understanding as she cleared the way for the two of them, with her coat sleeve getting caught on some branches multiple times. “Well, what comforted me was the thought that everything will come to an end. I know that sounds morbid but let me explain. People usually say, ‘all good things come to an end’ but that also means that everything bad has to as well, right? More so than that, you can say that something doesn’t just end but shifts and changes like time itself. It’s something you can’t see while it’s happening but if you take the time to reflect you can pick up on the small details that’ll piece together the bigger picture. Tomorrow is always a new day where these changes no matter how massive or minute can pop up and that’s something you can look forward to when many take it for granted. I mean sure, these changes might be battling for a while to where it feels like you’re at a stand-still in life but soon enough you’ll be standing in a different part of the world, in the very least perspective wise.”

Sis began tapping one of her dainty fingers against her chilled chin while she pondered how to go on, however, when she glanced down beside her to see Rebecca subtly shifting her weight from one foot to the other Sis’ gaze widened as she let out a laugh laced with embarrassment. “Sorry, was that too cliché?”

Slowly nodding her head, Rebecca’s ebony eyes locked on the pitch-black beneath her feet. “No, it does make sense... Can we get our drinks now?”

Sis once again agreed and led the way inside the store which signs illuminated a bright lime shade. When inside, the warmth of comfort flowed through each of their short heights as another comfort of quiet drifted between them. It remained this way until they had exited the store a few minutes later with Rebecca piping up with a sheepish secret on how she always forgot the tax when she came here for a drink that cost ninety-nine cents. This earned her a low giggle in return and a remark on how Sis was the same way since she thought that tax only applied after a dollar.

“Exactly, I mean ninety-nine cents isn’t a dollar so why the charge?” Rebecca pondered as she followed the older girl to the freezing bench to take another seat. After a few moments of silent sipping and hums of pure bliss, Rebecca spoke again, “Hey, um, do you think that I’ll make it out of here? I mean I’m doing my best to keep my head up and be positive but I can’t help but feel like this is all there is for me. It’s hard to see a point…”

Sis simply nodded her head and pursed her lips as shadows of her past crashed over her. “It is hard, isn’t it? Dealing with so much loss and chaos coming in from different directions, yet feeling like you can’t do anything despite however you try. But you’re still here, despite everything you still face every day even though you may not see the point. I know you may not have heard this in a while or think you deserve it, but I am so proud of you.”

Rebecca jerked her head up as she coughed down the droplets of sweetness that remained on her tongue. Her almond eyes were as wide as dinner plates as she stared up at the figure beside her. “I, um, thank you! Thank you very much for your kindness!”

Sis returned her shocked expression with that of a simple smile, one that made the corners of her gaze crinkle. “May I tell you another thing?”

Still searching for her lost voice, Rebecca eagerly nodded to confirm her answer.

“I love you. No matter what differences you have, mistakes you feel you’ve made, or how you handle the situations this life have thrown at you, I love you and you are worthy of love.”

At that moment, Rebecca carefully set down her drink before throwing herself into Sis’s side for a tight yet trembling embrace. Without thinking, the onslaught of thank-yous poured from her lips once more while Rebecca clung tighter to the older girl.

“No need to thank me, just please never forget that. I know it’s easier said than done but I believe in you and it will help both of us in the end.”

“Huh, what do you mean?” Rebecca asked with her already soft tone was muffled by the fuzz of the lilac lady’s jacket.

“May I tell you one final secret?”

Rebecca nodded once more, wondering what more could be shocking than this.

“Well, my name is actually Rebecca Grace and… we made it…”

[thenightmareofyourdrems]

toxicmalicex·:

the curl of the corners of her lips was as unexpected as the sentence that triggered the said reaction. ❛ hm, ❜ marisa couldn’t contain a tiny sound of amusement. smiles, like everything else, were a weapon of choice; carefully selected, mastered and refined, eventually deadly. a weapon she used for years now, ever present during her daily routines spent among the first class passengers — to charm, to seduce, to manipulate… at times to hide behind. they all did that; the wolfs in sheeps’ clothing, pathetically on the view. the engineers the only last people on their frozen earth that got to see her for whom — as she believed — she really was. others could only possibly suspect, since every soul on this train was capable of the worst in order to survive. it was the first time in a long time that marisa’s smile was genuine. the idea of putting down the weapons partly as ridiculous as suggesting the ordinary person to call wilford into question in front of everyone else — everyone knew how that would end. people were generally very predictable. they acted on the subconscious level most of the time. it didn’t take a genius to crack their code after a short period of observation. melanie cavill, though, wasn’t one of those people. the steps she chose never failing to pull marisa of the track. seeing no chance of a successful provocation, the brunette withdrawal from the dangerously close distance that was supposed to thicken the air with tension enough to be able to cut through it with a knife.

melanie — as if she needed further proofs — though unyielding, was a good person. it was marisa who was hard as nails, couldn’t stop plotting, hunting for the slightest of opportunities to take advantage, get the upper hand. the position they currently found themselves in couldn’t possibly become any more favourable. an ideal moment to put the end to it. the thought melanie had seen her in this most shameful of states was unbearable enough to desire nothing more than to wipe it away from a memory. cracking this all too familiar pattern, marisa simply turned her hand, palm up, to also take melanie’s hand. her puffy eyes sparkled with curiosity beneath the surface, watching closely as her thumb began to softly stroke the back of the other woman’s hand. the gesture seemingly immaculate, inflammatory at most. curiousity — such a petite thing the reason behind holding herself back on such various occasions. seldom could she confront someone who’s intelligence and ambition matched her own. her personal resources not worth wasting on an ordinary adversary. this cold war, though, was everlasting.

❛ you remind me of someone i once knew. ❜ marisa just said. yet another smile crossed her features as the next natural question was : what happened to them? a pity there wasn’t much to say in the matter. marisa did not intend on opening a pandora box, the cause of her meltdown. the reason for breaking down on the floor of the last place she — quite frankly — should find herself in. perhaps she wasn’t even capable of understanding the ultimate trigger ; feelings being something she always put away and allowed to get covered with ancient dust. there was so much one had to put up with every single day on this ark — suppressing your reflexes, instinctive responses, your very nature. all that to keep order. she couldn’t help glancing at the wardrobe, cracked open wide enough to notice two photographs stuck to the inside of its door. this time she contained the-previously-unexpected wave of emotions. ❛ and i didn’t know you had a daughter. ❜

                ˜”*°•.     To expect  a  heart  to  heart conversation  would  be  naively  foolish ; they  were  similar . Despite  their  every difference , their  rivalry ,  she  knew they  were  similar. Perfectly  shaped  masks  covering  the flaws,  the  emotions, the  weaknesses.  And even  when  they shattered ,  there  were still  words  to  shield  them . Abrupt  or  hostile , distracting  or  disorienting .  There was  always  something . So ,  when  Marisa decided  to  change the  subject ,  answer  the invitation  with  a mere  statement ,  she was  not  surprised . No.  It  hadn’t  been  a  heartfelt response ,  she’d  expected , after  all .  Marisa was  not  this kind  of  person , and  she  wouldn’t  have survived  that  long if  she  were . And  yet ,  the  words  she  had uttered  were  still  intriguing . ❝ And  is this  a  good thing ? ❞  Came  the question  dressed  in something  the  lighter , the  more  casual .  For a  more  intrusive question  ?  It would  trigger  a defensiveness  that  they  didn’t need  to face  at  the moment .

I  didn’t  know  you  had  a daughter .  A  daughter.  Gaze briefly  turned  to the  pictures ,  pictures full  of  something now  lost .  A happiness ,  a  bliss ; nights  of  cuddling and  storytelling ,  walks and  meals  out at  restaurants .  And then … absence .  Promised  excursions that  never  came true .  Unseen  school events  that  were never  forgiven .  Homework that  was  never helped .  Secrets  that were  never  shared . And  all  in the  name  of this  train .  A train  meant  to save  her ,  meant to  ensure  her survival .  But  a train  that’d  eventually condemned  her .  She would  often  think about  it .  Think about  the  thousands of  ifs ,  the different  choices ;  what if  they’d  waited ?  What if  they  hadn’t  left Wilford  behind  ?  What if  she’d  tried to  find  her ?  And then …  what  if  she’d  never abandoned  her  in the  first  place  ?  Always left  her  at her  grandparents .  Always promised  her  to return  as  soon as  possible  only to  take  even longer  to  come back ?  What  if  she’d   focused on  her  instead of  her   job ?  What if  she’d  taken advantage  of  every minute  they’d  been granted  with  ?  What if  she’d  stayed with  her …  ❝ Her  name  was Alex . ❞  Were  the only  words  to escape  her  lips . And she  did  not deserve  to  die .

[prcdigia]

really  LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY.   RULES.  repost ,   don’t  reblog  !    tag  10  ! good  luck  !   TAGGED.  found it !   TAGGING.  all of ya !

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :   Sherry Birkin. NICKNAME / ALIASES :   Agent Birkin, Supergirl, Cherry, Little Miss, Raccoon Survivor, Test Subject AGE : 26 years [ verse dependent tho ] BIRTHDAY :  March 7th, 1986 ETHNIC  GROUP :   American RACE / NATIONALITY :   Caucasian / American LANGUAGE / S :   English, bits and pieces of russian, chinese and german SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Heterosexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :   Heteroromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :   Single / Verse dependent CLASS :   Middle class HOME  TOWN / AREA :   Raccoon City / The outskirts of Arklay CURRENT  HOME :   There’s no such thing she can call a firm home atm but the DSO’s offering different places for her to stay [ motels, cabins etc. ]. She’s usually kept under strict surveillance by the government, however. PROFESSION :   US government agent [ unknown agency, ?-2012 ] ; DSO - 'Division of Security Operations' agent [ 2012-to now ]

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Flaxen-haired, short with bangs, slightly curvy. A little bit longer than a pixie cut. EYES :   Azure blue and bright, adorned by long, spidery lashes. Usually optimistic or gentle. NOSE :   Small sloped, ordinary, knobbly at the peak FACE :  Delicate, with soft & youthful features; middle-high cheekbones and a gently pointed chin; eyebrows are semi-thin, trimmed in a natural way & expressive LIPS :   Sharp, semi-full lips; upper lip is thinner COMPLEXION :   fair && smooth, almost porcelain-like, giving a false indication toward her age, her skin is thin enough for her veins to show through sometimes BLEMISHES :   Slight freckles scatter across her nasal area && cheek bones, though they’re only to be seen from close-up SCARS :   None. Or at least none of them are visible to the plain eye due to the G-virus' infection meddling with her DNA. TATTOOS :   None so far HEIGHT :   5’4" [ 163 cm ] WEIGHT :   103 lb [ 47 kg ] BUILD :   Fit, Athletic, Tiny / Something between Ecto- & Mesomorph/ Curvy but slender. An all around petite figure, which is quite beneficial for both her speed and agility in order to execute smooth combat moves FEATURES :   Nothing extensively peculiar except for the fact that despite how many scratches and wounds Sherry has sustained over the years, they've all healed well and left no traces for the raw eye to be seen. She's also very pale, not in a sick but distinctive way. ALLERGIES :   A mild form of hay fever USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :   Mostly smoothed with some parts being curvy; a little touseld, but all in all nothing out of the ordinary. She likes to keep her hair style sportive but simple. USUAL  FACE  LOOK :   Focused, determined, optimistic, thoughtful, melancholic, kind, caring, maybe even judgmental sometimes, although she really never does judge a book by its cover. USUAL  CLOTHING :   Formal when on duty, a white shirt with green capris, turtleneck sweaters & leggings, coats, something casual & comfortable, though she doesn’t mind to dress playful or elegant as well. She usually always wears a azul scarf around her neck & brown boots if the occasion allows it

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :  Mild form of Claustrophobia [ The fear of being enclosed in a small space or room and having no escape. ] Mild form of Achluophobia [ The fear of darkness. ] Mild form of Aichmophobia [ The morbid fear of sharp things, such as pencils, knives and especially needles. ] Severe form of Atychiphobia [ The irrational fear of failure or being incapable to help and protect. ] ASPIRATION / S :   To bring peace to the world & restore balance, not wanting to end up like her parents, to fight bioterrorism & live up to her childhood friends & idols Claire & Leon. POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Organized ● Holistic ● Commited ● Idealistic ● Empathetic ● Compassionate ● Firece ● Kind ● Reserved ● Determined ● Optimistic ● Artistic ● Intuitive ● Gentle ● Wise ● Loyal ● Selfless ● Romantic ● Reflective ● Profound  ● Trustworthy NEGATIVE  TRAITS :   Fearful ● Naive ● Overly trusting ● Sad ● Hurt ● Sceptic ● Self-Critical ● Stigmatized ● Mournful ● Gullible ● Anxious ● Self-doubting ● Emotional MBTI :   ESFJ / The Caregiver ZODIAC :   Pisces ♓ TEMPEREMENT :   Phlegmatic ANIMALS :   White Dove VICE  HABIT / S :  Tends to overthink her own actions a lot due to self-critical behavior / Keeps people at arms length sometimes in order to steer clear from the involvement of personal feelings FAITH :   She doesn’t believe in God or the church or any other beliefs but she believes in fate GHOSTS ? :   Well, if there can be such things as  zombies & monsters . . . ? She probably does believe in higher forces the eye cannot perceive AFTERLIFE ? :   Yes REINCARNATION ? :   Yes ALIENS ? :   She finds the thought amusing but . . . no. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :   Liberal ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :   --- SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION :   Law Enforcer EDUCATION  LEVEL :   Upper secondary education

FAMILY.

FATHER :   William Birkin [ Scientist, Virologist, Biologist ], deceased MOTHER :   Annette Birkin, [ Scientist, Virologist ], deceased SIBLINGS :   None EXTENDED  FAMILY :   None she knows of NAME  MEANING / S :   Sherry is French for "Cherie"; Darling, Dear One & Birkin is a simple, english surname that is locational from a place called Birkin near Knottingley, in the county of West Yorkshire. HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :   None

FAVORITES.

BOOK :   Romance, Thriller, Fantasy, Action, Comedy, Tragedy MOVIE :   Disney Movies, sometimes love stories, sometimes crime or thrillers. That really depends on her mood. Though to be fair, she’s never really had the chance to watch a lot of movies in her life. 5  SONGS :   Supergirl ; Drama for life ; Heal my wounds ; I want love ; Broken DEITY :   Theia [ Titaness of sight and the shining light of the clear blue sky. ] HOLIDAY :   Easter & Christmas MONTH :  March SEASON :   Spring PLACE :   The beach at dawn or dusk, a lively room with broad, open windows, a balcony with view at the city lights below or the stars above, a market place or wild flower field WEATHER :   She likes all kinds of weather conditions; the rain on her skin, the sun warming her up again, a gentle breeze tousling her hair & the snow giving her a chilly sensation. SOUND :   A gentle breeze brushing the treetops & fields, the rush of ocean waves crushing against the shore, the sound of rain pitter-pattering against sturdy ground or the windows, the howl of a storm or the whistling of a gust, naked feet traipsing along cold linoleum, gentle & melodic hums. SCENT / S :   A flowery soft, feminine essence that lingers and leaves a gentle impression, notes of sandalwood and cashmeran ground. It can be an exquisite blend of mandarine, magnolia and cedarwood for the natural, playful occasion, or a little more complex in theory for the starry, elegant nights with head notes of bergamot and orange, middle notes of rose, gardenia and orchid; and base notes of vanilla and coconut milk. Overall, she usually smells sweet and delightful, like a flower field after the rain, brisk with a hint of untouched innocence. TASTE / S :   Something sweet that lingers but feels natural with a hint of sourness, like peaches or apples, kiwis & grapes. Sweet tea with fruits, green or jasmine tea, buttermilk & Orange juice. Creamy pies, hefty & extremely salty meals - she enjoys all of the sensations. FEEL / S :    Soft linen against skin, mid-warm water in a bathtub or a shower, firm but warm hands around her hips, a breeze tickling her neck, a mild summer night where the sun shines down her back ANIMAL / S :   Dogs, doves, horses, rabbits, storks NUMBER :   3 COLORS :   Light blue, sky blue, cerulean, navy blue, silver, white, grey-blue, beige

[veryveryveryshyshyshy-blog]

Torment

Word count: 2.2k

Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, loads and loads of angsty shit

A/N: Be Mean by DNCE made me do this, though its didn't inspire the whole story lol but yes there will be something smutty in the later parts also wow @ the gif,,,,, also i feel like this is kind of a filler chapter lol also feel like i shouldn't have ended it there but idk i cant continue also this was kinda short iDk SORRY

A lot of people deserve forgiveness, a lot of people deserve to forget but all they receive are reminders after reminders after reminders of the mistakes they've committed. 

First, it was a scandalous relationship with a girl. The newspaper article headlines with his secret connection with this nobody, including the explicit (but not too explicit, of course) details of his sadistic and masochistic sexual requests. If that didn’t cause a whole bunch of ruckus, the next one did. Jeon Jungkook was sitting by his window ledge in his secret hiding place, a “temporal safe haven” as his manager puts it. His doe eyes glossy as the light from outside reflected. Though the ray did reveals his tears, his eyes still seemed dull as compared to before. Like a light, that had inhabit his vision before, had been torn away. It was drooping at the sides, so were the sides of his mouth. You could clearly see the toll that he had taken. Exposing his emotions, clearly plastered on his face, vulnerable as the sound of his empty house started to turn deafening. His pupils following the tiny amounts of snow that descended gracefully from the sky. His palm warm against the cold glass of the window, soon to transfer its heat, turning the heated hand into numbed flesh. 

The crestfallen boy knew he was going to have to face the public soon. He didn’t know what the fans thought, getting mixed responses as he read the tweets. He didn’t know what the conservative public of Korea thought of it, he didn’t know what his parents thought. He also didn't know what the members thought or what you thought. Jungkook was desperately avoiding thinking about the latter, especially. The thoughts would harass him till he's ruined. His ringtone chiming interrupted his thoughts. The ringing got more violent as all the notifications flooded in. “Jeon Jungkook Nude? BTS’ Golden Maknae Nude Video Leaked.” #Jungkooknudes trending on twitter.

Moving before his eyes on the screen was two familiar figures. Jungkook’s memory of that special night was slowly tortured and decaying further by every embarrassing moan that blasted out of the speaker of the device. Or by every spank that could be heard in the audio, resounding in the room. Both bodies were moving at the same pace, before his manager pulled the phone away from his face. Now, he was sitting in an office with eight pairs of eyes all on him. His manager had spoken. But the bunny-tooth boy paid no mind to the stressed man,it was probably something along the lines of, “Do you know how much trouble we’re in? If you dare pull some more shit like this. You know what’s coming, kid. Watch out, alright?”, the last part had a hint of sympathy and care, not being as harsh as his few previous sentence. His manager knew that this isn’t what Jungkook wanted, he was human too. He obviously didn’t leaked it himself. But, it did put his job and the rest of their jobs at risk of being taken away, he needed the younger boy to know that his actions have consequence and to be careful with what he does.

Jungkook just sat there silently, staring lifelessly at the table. Nobody could really disclose what he’s thinking about, not the boys as they sat in the room with him, not his manager, no one. They all just stared at him as he was to the table. The dispirited boy had his fringe covering a little of his vision as he stared into the matte black that covered the table, still trying his best to avoid the thoughts of you from popping up in his mind. Nobody had foreseen that the youngest of BTS would’ve been so, well to put it simply, problematic. Nobody thought he would’ve been so sexually promiscuous, everyone speculated that he was the innocent little boy that everyone assumed and portrayed him to be. Some made up rumours that he wanted to get rid of this image, thus causing all this commotion. Others said it was for publicity, quote “These celebrities will do anything to get their face onto the cover of a magazine, be it bad or good news. Absolutely pathetic.”

Amidst all the chaos, nobody asked Jungkook how he felt about this whole situation. Of course, he felt pretty damn shitty. After all his privacy was being pried into. That little minute dust of freedom he had, that he had the right to have, was blown away in a violent wind straight from his bare hands. No amount physical work could have snatched it back as it scatters all over the place. It was out there for the world to look at, the uncensored image of his naked body and the girl he loved on display for the whole world to see. His sultry words, that was supposedly only for his lover to hear, was now heard by millions. Jungkook also felt irritation amongst all his emotions. Why did he have to apologise when he never did anything wrong? What kind of goddamn social contract was it to apologise for his own leaked nudes? It was his privacy being violated here. The person who leaked the nudes and everyone who watched that god-fucking-damned video should be sending their apologies to him instead. Jungkook also felt a tiny sense of happiness lingering at the back of his mind, however he was confused by this emotion. He almost caused 8 other people to lose their jobs, a girl to lose her dignity and pride and not able to face the public. He allowed the familiar elderly couple to be tortured by the hushed whispers spouting more and more rumours about them and him, especially about their relation and how he was badly brought up and nurtured by the couple. He jeopardised a company’s reputation and his own. How could he have felt happy in a moment like this? 

Next thing Jungkook knew, he was, back in the house, lying in the silence and on the extremely huge and empty kingsized bed. The loose string of the smooth silk bedsheets caught in the crooked cut of his nails on his finger as he thought about some of the people he did owe an apology to. Jungkook knew he had to make some amends. He apologised to the members, all of them forgiving and accepting his apology quite easily. They understood what he did wasn't on purpose and that they all had their own things to hide. He apologised to his parents, his parents also being very forgiving. He was exceedingly thankful for all grace shown by his members, the company and his parents.

Now, it was time for the harder part. He walked through the dark cold street, step after step to the familiar address. His hands pushed into the pocket of his coat, in great need of warmth. The air conditioner in the house broke before this, he’s been living without heat for about 12 hours. He couldn’t escape the house either as he was suppose to be in hiding. Just his luck, he also forgot to wear gloves tonight.

He knocked against the wooden door, a crack in the door causing a splinter to prick the skin of his knuckle. He knocked again and waited. After 15 minutes, still not a single soul.

“Hey, I know you’re in there.” His voice sounded rough. As he hasn’t spoken much in the past few days, Jungkook was surprised by his own voice.

The door then opened with a creak, his large eyes engulfed into the small lifeless ones that stood before him. Despite being lifeless at first sight, he saw fear and sadness swimming around in them too.

“What do you want?” The soft, but hoarse voice ruptured in the quiet night. The air so chilled that her hot breath condensed in the contrasting temperature. Silence stood all around them for a moment before Jungkook sighed.

“I just wanted to apologise.” He said quietly, almost a whisper. Feeling guilty and for the first time, he felt small in front of the petite woman.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it.” For someone so small, the girl spoke with so much hatred, Jungkook couldn't believe that much hostility could occupy one being. Booming, so sharp that it cut the silence straight into half. The boy was shocked, expecting an easy and smooth forgiveness. But, his naive mind never ran over the possibilities of what was going to happen. Alas, he was, now, confronted and the infamous feline has really grabbed his tongue, this time. Maybe, even tied it into a knot as it felt like he couldn't talk.

“I’m a girl. You’ll never understand what it's like for me. For you, it’s a bump in your life, its a mistake that’ll soon be forgotten by many. For me, however, I’ll live with it forever. Instead of people telling me that it was just a mistake, they blame me for this. My reputation forever tarnished by you. I’ll always just be known as the girl that had that sex scandal with that idol. People at my workplace talk about me, I’ve been forced to resign to protect the company’s reputation. People at the convenient store talk about me, I see the censored thumbnails of that stupid fucking video on the covers of magazines while walking in the goddamn supermarket. People are making violating comments about my body, right in front of me. All thanks to you, the whole world knows what I look like when I'm fucking you, completely naked.” Her voice once again, firm and loud enough for Jungkook to understand the emotions she was projecting, but not loud enough to wake the neighbours. Jisoo wouldn’t risk that, there was enough talk going around town. Jungkook, then, realised the double standards that was still alive. He’ll be able to move on and build his career again and soon, everyone would forget. But, a female body. The female anatomy wasn’t easily forgotten especially by people who sexualise it so much. Even, Jungkook could still remember what his first love looked like. But, not her face first, if you asked him in this way. He remembered the curves in her body and the way she moulded so perfectly with him. The sole reason why he remember her face was because well she's his first love.

“You said you’d always protect me. Why didn't you keep your promise?” She whispered, her voice broken. Though, she was quick to compose herself again, blinking the tears away. Refusing for the, though downhearted too, boy to see her so broken. She knew how it'd affect him, because through everything she still does love Jungkook.

“I know, Jisoo. B-but this is different, I-I couldn't-“ Jungkook stammered, not being able to say what he wanted properly. Shoving his tears to the back of his eye socket, clearing his throat so he could properly discuss this. 

“I think we should breakup. If that wasn't obvious enough.” Jisoo interrupted coldly. 

"No. Please." Jungkook whispered as he begged. The only words he could muster up. 

"Please never look for me again." She said almost reluctantly.

"Jisoo, we can talk it out. Please, just stay." Jungkook had a tear running down his face at this point. Jisoo wiped at the tear with a small smile, her's also threatening to fall.

"Goodbye Jungkook." With a kiss on the cheek, slowly Jungkook felt her hands slip away and she retracted back into the house. 

This love died too early, Jungkook did love her but the unhappy boy’s eyes weren’t as glossy as he thought it would be. He was hurt, he did feel the sour squeezing in his nose and the closing of his throat. Yet, it didn't hurt as bad as he expected. Above all, his mind, contrarily, hasn’t occupied by Jisoo at all. These few days, it had been set on avoiding thinking about you. Although, the boy was trying to circumvent, eschewing these thoughts seemed to make them worse. Avoidance wasn't going to make him feel any better, he had to come to grips with it.

Everyone advised him that it was a mistake to leave. But, Jungkook didn’t care. He’s been in their restraints for too long, as much as he liked being restrained. He didn’t like it this way. As the male sat in his gigantic kingsized bed, once again. He thought all was right in the world again, like the stars had aligned in the world, except that it's not. He felt he was missing something as his eyebrow scrunched together, then your image popped up in his mind. His eyes widened in realisation as his stared into the white ceiling. His raised eyelids start to falter as he thought about what to do. There was a shit load he had to do, he was muddled as to where to start. 

He had to find you. Jungkook stared at the map, the leather seat beneath him getting warm. As he drew on the map, the red ink smudging on the glossy paper, he narrowed down his options to you two's hometown first. His lean legs reached for the gas pedal, his ink stained hands found the steering wheel and sped down the roads. He went out to venture, close to a pilgrim, on a journey to search for you. Your name is his permanent safe word, you are is his permanent safe house.

[mveloc]

Pure Radiance

Chapter 25: Epilogue

Author’s Note: Here it is! It’s finally finished. What a bittersweet feeling. I’ll be taking a bit of a break from this universe before I jump into the sequel, but I’m happy to have it finished... for now ;) In the meantime, I’ll be tackling my other fic, Days of Why and How. Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support with this fic. I know vampire stuff isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (it isn’t even really mine), but you all took a chance with the concept and I’m glad you’ve all come to find as much joy in reading it as I have in writing it. A heads up that this chapter will be NSFW--I mean, this one sort of has to go out with a bang, huh? As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope you’re all satisfied with the conclusion :)

“Congratulations, Doctor Cormier.”

I smile, zipping my bag closed and slinging it over my shoulder as I prepare to call it an evening. Somewhere in my quiet chest I feel a jolt of sheer anticipation—of exhilaration—as I allow my previously denied fantasies to play out in full inside the safety of my head for the very first time.

You see, fantasies are dangerous things.

They distort the truth and fill you with a false sense of hope; they lead naive girls to dark men and longer, darker nights; they leave you peering through a window, chasing light like a weary moth. I had thought I’d learned my lesson about entertaining my fantasies long ago, but then one day I miraculously found myself on the other side of that window with a little flame of my own that I was desperate to keep alight. Now that flame is a great, raging fire and instead of shying away from the inferno, I lean into its heat.

“Thank you,” I reply, offering my colleague a nod.

I try to remain humble.

I have every reason to boast, to declare my genius to the world like Aldous did at every given opportunity, but instead I keep my excitement to myself, bottling it up tightly for now so it can be saved for later; there is only one other it can be shared with, after all.

“Eager to try it for yourself before it hits the market?” Marcus asks with a knowing smile, removing his frames from his face to clean his lenses with his lab coat.

“Well, I’m still waiting on board approval—”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” he winks.

I know he’s right.

I know the process will be a long and drawn out one full of much bureaucracy, but no one can deny that I’ve been able to accomplish what Aldous could not. Once the board learns that I’ve effectively neutralized the sun and opened up the entire world to our kind, I suspect even more doors will open for Cosima and myself.

But none of that matters to me now.

This isn’t about the board, about feeding them the news they’ve spent years anxiously waiting for. This is about fulfilling the promise that I made to Cosima and I could weep with joy just knowing that she’ll walk in sunlight again, that I’ll see her skin illuminated in its light with my own eyes for the very first time.

“You know, Doctor Leekie also used to insist on testing each batch himself,” Marcus comments.

I know his words are meant to reassure me, that he doesn’t know the history or the circumstance behind Aldous’s demise, but any comparison to my late sire leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Oh, this isn’t for me,” I say, gesturing toward my bag. “Well… not entirely.”

Marcus smiles again.

“Ah, that’s right,” he nods in understanding. “Send her my regards.”

“I will.”

+ + + + +

The peace that we’ve established is still something I’m not quite used to.

After removing Aldous from the picture, I wasn’t sure what to expect from Marion or the coven. I had maintained my end of our bargain by assuming my sire’s role and continuing with his scientific endeavours, but a part of me had still expected Marion to go back on her word and for the coven to come after us.

Instead, I’ve been met with nothing but accommodation.

I know better than to trust it or to rely on Marion and the coven, but for now, I welcome it. So long as I continue to provide for them, I’m granted as much freedom as I could hope for in my current position. My interaction with the coven has been limited, much to my delight. I deal with Marion directly and she’s demonstrated a surprising level of respect for the boundaries I’ve erected; I’m contacted only when a status report is required and our relationship revolves strictly around our business. She’s even provided me with a generous new living arrangement—a bid to buy into my good graces, I’m sure—but I could hardly refuse the gorgeous penthouse suite upon seeing Cosima’s reaction to the glorious view of the skyline from behind the tinted, floor-to-ceiling windows.

As I ascend to our apartment in our private elevator, the anticipation becomes almost unbearable. I shift and twitch beneath its pressure, trying my best to keep my pokerface. I’ve dreamt of this moment, plotted the entire thing out in my mind, and I don’t want my eagerness to spoil it.

The doors chime open and I emerge into the home we’ve made for ourselves. The low hum of deep, mellow electronic music plays out over the speakers and fills our apartment, signalling to me that my lover is, in fact, home. I grin, unslinging my bag with its precious cargo from my shoulder and hanging it on the coat rack near the door. I divest myself of my coat and boots and begin my search—a search which is cut short the moment I notice the multiple books and papers strewn all across the rug on the living room floor.

My smile stretches.

She has access to her own office and yet she still insists on sprawling out across the floor when she works, same as always. She doesn’t seem to notice my approach or if she does, she says nothing, her nose buried in a textbook.

“Bonsoir, mon amour.”

She pauses upon hearing my voice, tearing her eyes away from her book for the first time in hours. A satisfied grin adorns her immaculate face as she rolls from her stomach onto her back, tucking her hands behind her head and looking up at me with a hint of amusement.

“Oh. Hey.”

I lower myself to my knees, straddling her waist and matching her expression. She chuckles, gently stroking my thighs until I lean down in search of her lips. I’m greeted halfway, our mouths connecting softly. I teasingly run my tongue along her bottom lip and elicit that tiny groan I’ve come to expect, trying to coax her desire out of dormancy.

“You’ve been busy, I see,” I comment, gesturing to the chaotic state of our living room which is littered with her books and notes.

She nods, giving my thighs a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah. I have a lot to catch up on.”

She stirs beneath me and I move to accommodate her, allowing her to slip out of my grasp. She rolls back onto her stomach, gathering some of the notes within her immediate reach into a pile. She tucks the pile into her textbook, using the papers as a bookmark before closing it.

“Now that I know I’m not gonna eat my classmates, I figured maybe I can start school again—maybe take night classes or something,” she shrugs.

Even though she’s been out of school for some time, a mind as inquisitive as hers simply cannot be subdued and now that we’re both confident in her ability to control her hunger, she can be reintroduced to the world properly.

“That won’t be necessary,” I tell her, unable to conceal my widening grin.

“Hm?”

She turns onto her side to spy me out of her periphery and arches an eyebrow in my direction, caught in confusion. I smother it quickly, covering her petite body with my own. I twist her onto her back and press her gently beneath me, the plush rug absorbing our combined weight. I bring my lips to her ear, nibbling gently at the shell as she tries to suppress the tremor that rolls through her.

“I have a surprise for you,” I whisper.

“Mmm… what kind of surprise?” she plays along, running her fingers through my hair.

I have many surprises in store for her this evening.

I have even more in store for her in the morning.

“It’ll have to wait just a little longer—the timing’s not quite right,” I tease, pressing a kiss behind her ear.

She whines, though I quickly rectify her disappointment.

“In the meantime…,” I begin, my pale hands with a mind of their own finding the waistband of her pants.

She giggles, her hips bucking in anticipation as I quickly tug the drawstring of her lounge pants loose.

“You know, I could use a study break.”

Her playfulness spurs me onward and I growl, digging my teeth into the tantalizing flesh of her neck. My fangs only prick the surface, not nearly deep enough to drain her—merely to tease, to remind her who owns her heart… not that she needs any reminders if the wetness that’s already beginning to gather between her legs is any indication.

She sighs as I run my fingers through her heat, urging her to shimmy out of her pants. I fasten my lips to hers again and she reaches to her side, fumbling blindly, knocking her book out of the way to clear space for us. The bed would surely be more comfortable and I’m certain that we’ll make it over there eventually, but the thought of taking her on the floor in front of the glow of the fireplace preoccupies every corner of my mind until my thirst for her becomes downright biological.

She struggles against me—not in an act of defiance, but rather the opposite; she knows how deeply I adore this game and she willingly plays the ocean to my moon, allowing me only brief tastes before she’s pulling back again, daring me to stretch her even further next time. I grow deliciously frustrated each time our tongues connect, each time she turns her head away and breaks our lips apart just as I find myself sinking into our kisses. She denies me all momentum, denies my burning hands as they wickedly seek out her most revered parts only for her to capture my wrists and relocate them.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I groan, my body nearly quaking with restraint.

“You love it,” she dismisses me, her fingers working at the buttons of my blouse while she peppers my jawline with feather-light kisses.

She opens the garment and pushes it down my shoulders. I shift, shedding the blouse and tossing it aside. I watch her do the same, pulling her own sweater over her head and exposing herself to me. I’m immediately greeted with an eyeful, grateful I don’t have to find my way around her bra, as well. I pause to take in the sight of her sprawled out beneath me in nothing but a flimsy pair of underwear and I feel my center pulse achingly.

“I do,” I admit with a tint of laughter to my voice. “But if you keep teasing me like this, I can’t be held responsible for what might happen.”

“And what’s going to happen?” she goads, eyebrows raised and smirk half-cocked. “Cause from where I’m lying… it looks like a whole lot of nothing.”

She wriggles her hips, mocking me further and calling my bluff.

Only it isn’t a bluff.

“What’s going to happen,” I begin, my voice low as I find my fire again and pin her wrists down on either side of her head. “Is that I’m going to fuck you.”

Her seduction, while magnetic and all-consuming, still remains tinged in a playfulness that’s a product of her youth. Like a child with a secret too big to keep, her desire shines through in the subtlest of hints; an arched brow, dancing fingertips, a tongue poking out from behind her teeth once it’s retreated after a witty jab. I find myself completely lost in the gestures, desperate and aching for more.

She strains against my grip, craning her neck forward until her lips are ghosting over mine.

“Then you’re gonna have to work a little harder,” she dares, her voice husky.

I can taste the words.

They’re hot against my lips despite their absence of breath; perhaps it’s the mischievous glimmer in her eyes which fuel them. Her lashes flutter and her grin continues to spread when she realizes she has me ensnared.

I throw my full weight into our kiss, pressing her into the soft, forgiving fibres beneath us. Her giggles turn into sighs which elevate to moans the second my lips abandon hers in pursuit of greater sweetness. As my lips begin to trail down her neck, over her collarbone, finding her breasts, she rakes her claws down my back and I hiss, bucking into her.

“Is this hard enough?” I purr.

I thrust my hips into her again, grabbing one of her knees and prying her open even wider to receive my attentions. She arches up to meet me, grinding her barely-clothed center against me.

“You can go harder.”

I freeze.

Looking down and searching her gaze, I maneuver my way through the fog of her desire until I’m faced with the true intent behind her words. My own eyes twitch slightly at the realization and she teases me again with a quick flash of her tongue from behind her teeth. She presses a kiss to the corner of my lips, confirming my suspicions.

I release her.

“Stay.”

My voice is gruff and strained as I stand and when I stare down at her on the floor, she twists her body in anticipation, dragging her fingertips down the valley of her breasts, her stomach—teasing me. I hurry into our bedroom, anxious to resume our activities. I shed the rest of my clothes as I make a beeline toward the dresser, crouching to reach for the bottom drawer and pull it open. I remove the discreet black box and pull the lid off, my lips twitching upward into a smile when I find what I’m looking for.

Amongst the rest of our toys I find the leather harness, the silicone phallus. It takes me a couple of minutes to get myself situated—usually Cosima helps me in this endeavour, but I’m a grown woman with a PhD and the current head of the DYAD Institute, so I’m certain I can figure it out with a little bit of effort.

My mind wanders back to the day we made this purchase; it was something we had talked about before, something she was far too eager to try. She’d never had a man before—never even knew if she would like it—but the budding scientist in her was unable to dismiss the thought from her mind. She had cheerfully dragged me to the store and on the clerk’s recommendation, we had picked out the most expensive harness they carried and a suitable toy—smooth and moderately-sized.

It was as good a place as any to start.

I had been reluctant at first, my fear being that I would find the experience too disjointed, though on the contrary, I find it to be strangely intimate; watching her eyes widen and glaze as I fill her to the brim, feeling the resistance as I plunge into her, hearing her keen as she clenches around the sturdy piece of silicone… it’s enough of a reward to pay for the equipment a hundred times over.

When I reappear in the living room with my new appendage, I find her sprawled out on the couch, underwear removed. She smiles when she notices me, her eyes shifting between my gaze and the toy, her fingers wandering the plains of her body.

“Brat,” I mutter, approaching her slowly. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

She stands, attempting to close some of the gap in our height.

“You didn’t say Simon says,” she teases, her hand finding the appendage.

She grips it tightly, giving it a firm tug and causing my eyes to nearly roll back in my head.

“You don’t want to play games with me, Cosima—not now,” I growl, my hands finding her hips.

“Wrong,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck and bringing her lips to my ear. “I wanna play all kinds of games with you.”

I pounce, her words taunting the beast into action. She’s grown strong enough now that she could put up a more challenging fight than before, but I’m met with no resistance as I pin her to the ground. She seems to delight in my aggression, a deep and throaty laugh escaping her as I walk head-first and willing into the trap she’s set for me. Gripping her hips roughly, I maneuver her body until she’s perched on all fours in front of me. Her head hangs low until I trail my lips down the column of her spine and she sighs blissfully, lifting her head again so that I can catch her gaze in the glow of the fireplace, our eyes locking in the glass doors.

I grip the sturdy toy which dangles from between my legs, using the tip to tease at her entrance from behind. A tremor tears through her as I coat it in her wetness and I find my lips pulling into a smile once more.

“But this is what you want the most, isn’t it?” I ask.

Once I’m lined up, I grip her hips tightly and leave her dangling on the precipice. As aroused as I am in the moment, I refuse to continue until she learns the rules of my game. I chuckle as I watch her try to hold out, to prolong the seduction. I reach up the length of her back with one hand, finding her braids and forcing her head back.

“Tell me,” I command, my voice harsh in her ear.

“Yes!”

She backs herself into me and I allow her to slide all the way down the length of the toy until her ass is nestled snuggly against my groin, the pressure sending a shock straight to my core. We both pause for a moment, satisfied groans slipping out of our mouths in unison. I never feel so complete as when I’m buried inside of her, evoking such sweet sounds from her lips.

When we’re both ready to move again, I begin with a steady rhythm; I dig my fingers into her hips deep enough to leave crescent-shaped marks in her skin and work my way in and out with long, languid strokes that I accentuate with a swivel of my hips each time I feel the toy reach her innermost depths. She clutches the pile of the rug beneath her and quivers like a leaf in the wind every time I hit her sweet spot.

I work her slowly and surely like this until I sense a crack beginning to form in her demeanour. While I’m perfectly content to carry on like this for hours—until the sheen of sweat which coats our bodies begins to drip from the exertion and the sound of our skin slapping together deafens us to all other noise—I know that our bodies will break long before our wills do. This night is supposed to be about fulfilling promises and so I know it isn’t right to draw out the exquisite torture for longer than necessary.

And I’d say we’ve reached the point of necessity.

“Harder,” she pleads.

My thrusts become more hurried, more forceful as I continue to slam into her from behind over and over, giving her no time to recover or prepare herself for my onslaught. Her moans grow louder until she can no longer support herself on both her hands and knees; her arms wobble before she forfeits, burying her face in the rug with her ass still raised to receive me. There’s something so visceral about having her this way that I can’t help the low growl that emanates from my throat; my eyes bleed black and my fangs unsheathe themselves. Even though she’s unable to see me from her position, she can sense my shift and she matches it with her own, forcing herself back against me to grind against the toy so that the base presses against my burning sex.

“F-Fuck…,” I hear her drawl.

I find more resistance each time I enter her and she clutches me every time I pull out, as if she’s desperate to be filled—her body hungry to be whole. I abandon my grip on her hips to stretch myself over her body like a brand new layer of skin, hugging her from behind as I continue to plough into her with a little less grace each time.

“Tu es—tu es mon monde,” I tell her, nearly choking on the words as I feel a white heat begin to spread through me.

I sink my fangs into the flesh of her trapezius and she cries out, the sound of her voice filling my whole world before the heat overtakes me completely and I collapse into her.

The universe stalls.

It takes me several minutes to regain my bearings and once I do, I press a lingering kiss to site of my lover’s bite and roll off of her, joining her on the floor.

“Mmm… how do you do that?” she asks me with a weakened grin, turning her head towards me ever-so-slightly so she can read my expression.

I laugh.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” I say honestly.

She inches closer, pressing her lips to mine to remind me that we’re both still here. I luxuriate in the moment, suspended, until she pulls away again. I whine as I watch her find her feet, somehow pulling herself to a standing position.

“How can you even move right now?” I ask, looking up at her both amazed and amused.

She positions herself over me, a foot on either side of my waist. She beams down on me with her head cocked to the side.

“Don’t tell me you’re a one-and-done,” she teases. “I know you can do better than that.”

She’s right.

We’ve certainly had much longer nights of passion and while I have no intention of calling it an evening just yet, I need another minute to find my bones and will them back into solid form.

“You sound quite confident for someone who was just fucked into the floor,” I throw back at her.

It’s her turn to laugh.

“Maybe I have my own surprises for you,” she winks.

My attention piqued, I sit up.

She laughs once more, sauntering away from me towards our bedroom.

“Come to bed.”

+ + + + +

“Mmmm… tired,” she groans, rolling over onto her side to bury her face in a pillow.

She looks so blissful and relaxed that I have half a mind to let her depart into her well-deserved slumber, but I will not miss my grand opportunity.

“Not yet,” I whisper, planting kisses along her shoulder blades.

“Hm?”

“You can’t sleep just yet.”

She rolls over, prying an eye open to regard me curiously.

“Why not?” she asks. “It’s nearly dawn.”

I grin back at her.

“Exactly.”

Both eyes open this time. Her brow furrows and she sits up.

“You’re gonna have to cut it with the cryptic talk. I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

I fight the urge to pull her face toward me and shower her with kisses.

“Come for a walk with me,” I say softly.

She pauses.

“Very funny,” she deadpans.

I could try to explain to her what I mean, but words seem too modest to describe what it is I’m offering. Instead I drag myself from the comfort of my bed, finding my robe hanging on the closet door and wrapping myself in it.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

I ignore her, vanishing into the living room in search of the bag I discarded earlier. I dig through it, finding the plastic receptacle which houses my gift. With trembling hands, I carry it back to the bedroom to deliver it to my love.

She has found her glasses, her face illuminated by the glow of the bedside lamp.

“Here.”

I hand her the receptacle and she stares at me, completely lost in her confusion. She accepts my gift anyway, inspecting it closely.

“What is this?” she asks.

I open my mouth to explain, only the words escape me. Emotion finds me instead and my lower lip quivers; I watch her open it, revealing two syringes and a vial.

“This is our future, Cosima.”

It takes her a second to reach realization but once she does, her eyes widen and lips tremble, as well.

“Do… do you mean…?”

She desperately searches my expression for answers and when I respond with a reassuring smile, her eyes begin to swell.

“Hold out your arm,” I instruct, retrieving the vial and one of the syringes.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she presents her elongated arm to me. I fill the syringe with the liquid from the vial—the culmination of my life up until this point—and inject a generous dose into her.

Once I’m done with Cosima, I use the other syringe and repeat the process with myself.

“Is it working?” she asks, shooting up from the bed. “I don’t feel any different.”

She’s pacing around the bedroom now, staring at her arm expectantly.

“It is,” I say, trying not to laugh at her eagerness. “I promise.”

Aldous has spent years working on this serum and I’ve spent the last eight months perfecting it. I wanted to wait until I was completely certain that I was successful before presenting it to her; I couldn’t bear to raise her hopes only to smash them to pieces if my efforts were in vain.

She waits another minute, running her hands along her skin as if she’s waiting for something incredible to happen.

“Are you sure?”

I crawl from our bed, walking purposely toward the balcony. As I reach for the handle to the sliding door, she nervously retreats deeper into our bedroom.

“Delphine, wait!”

I pull the door open and the world seeps in.

It’s light is gentle.

I take a bold step over the threshold, crossing over onto the balcony.

I look up at the sky; the sun is just beginning to crawl above the skyline and I close my eyes, allowing its warmth to embrace me.

There are no flames this time, no searing pain.

There is only silence and a great calmness.

“Come,” I call to her.

She follows in my footsteps, crossing the threshold and stepping out into the world like a fawn finding its legs for the first time. She’s weary at first, but the moment she realizes that I’m unscathed—that her skin isn’t being stripped from her—everything shifts.

It’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen.

The sun washes over the gentle curves of her body, basking her in its glow like a firefly along the lake at night. Her expression shifts many times over the span of a few seconds—from fear to relief to utter joy to something that’s unnameable to me.

“D-Delphine… I’m…”

Apparently the feeling is just as unnameable to her, as well.

I seek her out, closing the distance between us. My hands cup her face and I lean forward, pressing my forehead to hers. We both close our eyes, both allow ourselves to slip into the moment and stay lost.

“I never thought… I never thought I’d see it again,” she admits through silent tears.

I brush them away with the pads of my thumbs.

“I knew I would.”

There was a time I felt the same way.

My nights had grown so long that I had given up on morning altogether… and then she appeared. Suddenly, my impossibly long nights became far too short as she filled them with a sense of purpose that simply refused to expire with the break of dawn; stars filled my skies again and wonder returned to my world.

That’s when I knew that our nights would never be enough.

That’s when I knew I would find the light again, no matter what the cost.

If only to see her shine.