vercnas-blog

[vercnas-blog]

orivns:

                           perhaps she’s right,   perhaps his sins are slowly leaking into every part of him,   painting him black,   rotting him from the inside.   &   maybe he is not the devil yet,   but he is surely on the way of becoming it.   it doesn’t scare him,   rather fills him with a dangerous indifference :  if the role he is destined to play is of a villain’s,   he will be the best goddamn villain they’ve ever seen.   he blinks back at her silently,   dark brows furrow in confusion as she takes his hand,   fingers digging into the soft material of his shirt,   the beating of his own heart much more prominent than he’s expected it to be   &   he wishes he was sober enough to be able to deny that it’s caused by her closeness.   orion stills for a moment,   gaze locked on hers,   ringed digits travelling from his chest to gently brush to the curve of her neck,   fingertips tapping onto the hard of her jaw.   he wants to kiss her,   he realises   &   it shocks his body like electricity,   almost painful,   tearing himself away from her rapidly.   ‘   maybe.   or maybe i’m just very good at playing human.   ’

          dark eyes flutter shut when he brushes his fingertips across her neck, electricity blooming like roses below where his digits touch her jaw. verena wants more than that, every sensation just feeding the fire, the hunger created by the substances clouding her veins seemingly insatiable. and then he pulls away, fast enough to move her, her round eyes snapping open like an animal roused from relaxation. she blinks, head tilting as she gazes at him, studying his expression with little care at the fact that she was staring, something she was usually so conscious of sober.  “ sad, sad boy, ” verena croons, the softness of her voice only possible in such an altered state. her head feels fuzzy, her body feels warm, but there is absence there because he wasn’t touching her anymore. she didn’t like that feeling. “ who taught you how to play pretend ? ” verena searches his expression like she might find the answer there if she looks hard enough, fingers reaching out to brush his hair back before her arm drops back to her side.  “ you don’t have to, you know. ” her words muddle together, slow and dreamy, like she’s wandered into unconsciousness without even realizing.  “ you don’t have to pretend. ”

[vercnas-blog]

ofastons:

IT DOESN’T TAKE A GENIUS TO NOTICE THE OBVIOUS, but firsthand experience helps aston realize that perhaps verena was capable of SURPRISE, after all. her touch lights a spark underneath his skin, the vast nerve endings set alight by his own drug of choice. it turns out pretending to be MODEL CITIZENS comes with its own gives & takes, even for those who seemed like they might be immune. he lets verena take his drink that’s more on the edge of flammable than it is mixed with a chaser with no fight; they’re too far from sober to be capable of RESPONSIBLE decision anymore. ‘ you know i’m no good with WORDS, ’ he answers just as breezily, offhand, but there’s an undertone to his words as potent as the tension between their gazes. ‘ it seems like you’ve already started without me. ’

             she doesn’t feel the burn of the liquor as it slides down her throat but she can feel the warmth of it, the way it brings life to her cheeks and numbs her fingertips. verena is a forest fire waiting to happen, body burning just below the surface. she takes a step closer to him. “ — and what are you good at ? ” the question serves no purpose except to add to the weight that exists between them, the same weight verena pushes the boundaries of when she leans in. “ show me. ”��it’s neither a command nor a request, just two words delivered by lips that brush against his ear, soft as a whisper. she pulls back with a laugh, the drug coursing through her bloodstream still keeping her close. she brings the cup back up towards her mouth, downing the remaining contents like it had been her drink this entire time. “ you're a big boy, aston, ” verena grins, tongue running across her bottom lip as if to taste the alcohol that had been left behind again. “ catch up. ”         

[vercnas-blog]

cvlias:

               it’s intoxicating , how such hedonism can elicit a reaction of pure bliss - one of which she has become far too familiar with during the proceeding months . she’s taken two , both passed through a touch of affection , & any worry following through the next hours melts away into nothing .  –  digits wrap around an almost empty cup , contents of which she remains unknown of . however , while rapid steps are taken towards the bar , she’s stopped by a familiar figure , one who shared a moment with during the beginnings of the night . she remembers that much .   ’   you feel so good ,   ’   she repeats , as though to understand the words to their fullest extent . every touch against skin feels more charged than the last , every nerve & muscle wanting to pulse against its own beat ; her body now controlled by nothing more than a substance of ecstasy . blown pupils never shift their gaze , watching  … almost mapping every movement of the other woman , every flicker followed by an amorous glance . fingers brush against the outline of verena’s waist , slowly following each contour & line down to the curve of her hips . only then , do palms press against skin , hard , as though they finally found their place against her form .   ‘   you deserve to feel good ,   ’   she hums , soft breath hitting the finger lain against painted - lips . she’s so … enamored by her , every action , touch , sound , reverberates into an uncontrollable fondness . it’s a shared weightlessness that two competing bodies have in common . palms squeeze against verena’s hips , lightly now , before an almost guileless giggle passes through brims ,   ’   i might as well be flying . everything just feels so much better ,  –   like you here right now , i like it .   ’

              she feels silly for waiting so long, for denying herself of such unadulterated bliss. normally so empty and detached, verena has been reduced to nothing more but a bundle of impulses, of want and longing and elation so pure that it only seemed capable of manifesting itself the more she touched. she lets her lips part as celia’s fingers ghost the curve of her waist, breath hitching as the girl’s palms dig into her hips hard. “ you make me feel... ” verena trails off, her finger brushing against the plumpness of celia’s bottom lip before she moves her hand so it’s cupping the other’s cheek. verena leans in again, lips moving against soft skin, brain unable to focus on anything else but the girl in front of her. in that moment celia is everywhere, taking up all the space verena has left inside her intoxicated brain, taking up the entire room and anything beyond.  “ you make me feel so good. ” she confesses with another laugh, this time placing a lingering kiss against the other’s cheek, the affection coming easily in her altered state. verena is tempted to use the hand she has around the girl’s waist to tug celia even closer, the way the other presses her palms against her hips electric. she is a live wire, and although she’s been touched by the girl before, it’s never felt quite this good.  “ you like it,” she repeats with a slow smile and a string of giggles, her face still nuzzled against the girl’s cheek. she draws out every touch, pulling away just enough to look into the other’s eyes as she tucks a strand of dark hair behind celia’s ear. “ do you like me ?”

[vercnas-blog]

adoncs:

⎾ – ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶠᵒʳ @vercnas ⏌ !

head nods along to the words coming from the other’s mouth, brows narrowing and bottom lip jutting outward to echo his impatience. “ oh right. yeah ! actually i’ll be right back, i gotta.. use the bathroom. ” body turns away, feet planted to hardwood as he makes his way toward the obvious opposite direction of the bathroom, eyes searching for something or someone to catch his interest. he spots a familiar head of dark locks almost immediately, grin coming onto features. “ verena ! ” her name falls from his mouth easily enough, smile forcing eyes into crescents as he approaches her from the side, arm looping around her shoulder. “ you look beautiful ! ” he compliments, index finger tapping her nose. “ how are you feeling about another year of success ? ”

           quite literally floating through the party, she’s on a higher plane of existence than she’s ever known. verena can’t remember the last time she felt this good, or this connected to her body, physical senses heightened to a point of euphoria. she turns at the call of her name, reaction delayed enough that she doesn’t realize who he is until his arm is around her shoulder. her painted lips stretch into a languid smile, sweet as honey. “ adonis, ” she greets, pretending as if she was going to bite the finger he used to tap her nose. “ i feel —  ” she starts before laughter is trailing her words, light as a feather as her eyes flutter shut. “ i feel like i’m going to fly away. ” when her eyes stutter open once more, verena glances up at him through the dark fan of her lashes.  “ what about you ? ” she asks, intertwining her fingers with the hand he had around her shoulder, the drug coursing through her veins making her more than itching to touch. verena tugs it closer to her, to her mouth, and presses a kiss against the inside of his wrist. “ mr. vice president, ” she murmurs, her voice airy and so unlike her. “ how do you feel ? ”         

[vercnas-blog]

orivns:

                                wide eyes blink in surprise when she touches his face,   brims forming a silent “o”   &   he is confused.   she is pretty,   he’s known that before,   but it is so easy to push to the back of his mind when it’s not blurred by alcohol,   so easy to ignore that he is tempted to touch her every time she’s close enough.   breath hitches,   her question leaves a much deeper impression on him than expected,   pushes his mind into a whirl of thoughts,   faded memories of the things he does,   the remorse he doesn’t feel.   ‘   i don’t know.   ’   he whispers back,   the honesty behind his word scorching his throat   &   he cannot turn his head away from her even when she lets go.   he reaches after her hand almost immediately,   slowly bringing them back to his face,   nuzzling his cheeks into her touch,   eyes fluttering shut.   it takes him a moment to form the words,   ringed digits still wrapped around her slim wrists.   ‘   do you think i am ?   ’

            she feels she must be dreaming, her heightened state nothing but unfiltered ecstasy, a sensation as foreign as it was intoxicating. he catches her off guard when he reaches for her hands after she had drawn them away, her skin crawling with electricity as he extends the touch. verena can feel the way her breath catches at the back of her throat, the sight of the other so close and sandwiched between her palms startling in ways she was in no position to decipher. “ sometimes, ” she breathes, her thumb brushing the softness of his cheek like she couldn’t help it. “ sometimes you act like him. ” verena pulls her wrists from his grasp gently, taking both of his hands in hers. she guides one towards his chest, pressing his palm flat against the place his heart was beating, guiding his other hand towards her own chest.  “ keep your eyes closed. — can you feel that ? ” she asks, and she can hear her heartbeat echoing inside her head, her gaze fixated on him still.  “ the devil doesn’t have a heart. but you do. ”     

[vercnas-blog]

orivns:

                            this is why he doesn’t drink,   he’ll tell himself the next day,   time   &   time again,   but for now,   alcohol is cruising in his bloodstream like the most dangerous dose of self confidence.   not the kind he usually possess,   it carries none of the careful   &   calculating yearning for self-preservation,   it is pure   &   unadulterated intoxication that guides him through the group of people gathered in the apartment.   he feels funny,   that’s the best way he can describe it,   the alcohol seemingly washing away the majority of his usually eloquent vocabulary the second the first sip passed his brims.   it’s almost comical,   how his arm wraps around her slim waist,   almost unintentionally,   to find support when he seems to trip over a bottle left on the floor.   breath hitches as he steadies himself,   needs a second to realise he’s close enough to feel the warmth of her breath on his cheeks,   before he’s pulling away.   there is a chuckle falling past his brims,   it’s free,   unrestrained.   ‘   sorry,   i didn’t mean to tackle you.   ’   @vercnas

             inhibitions melt against her tongue the same way her words usually did, freer than she has known for years. it’s all fake, verena knows the euphoria has little to do with her and everything to do with the pill that had slid down her throat earlier, but in the moment she didn’t care. she felt alive and she felt warm and she was a million miles away from the weight that was permanently pressed against her chest. verena is conscious of the touch before she is conscious of who the sensation is coming from, the feeling of arms wrapping around her waist like setting a fire right below the lining of her skin. it is only when he pulls away that she makes out his face, lips parting in surprise. “ oh, ” she murmurs,  a soft laugh trailing after the exclamation. verena doesn’t think much of it as she brings up her hands so they are cupping either side of his face, balancing on her tiptoes so she could properly study his expression. “ are you the devil ? ” she asks, her palms burning before she drops them slowly, fingertips ending up tangled with the fabric of his shirt as she uses it to steady herself as she drops from the balls of her feet back to her normal height. “ be careful. ”  

[vercnas-blog]

ofastons:

@vercnas

IT’S NOT QUITE AS FESTIVE AS FAR AS TRUE PARTIES GO, but alcohol and a few party favors are enough to loosen the tension in anyone’s shoulders, participation willing. fortunately for aston, buying into the bullshit drama is f a r from his list of priorities, and he’s happily nursing somewhere around his ninth cup, lips numb and tongue loose from the tequila warming his chest. ‘ are you HITTING on me? ’ he drawls, red mouth spread into something wicked as he tries to draw a rise from the girl he didn’t expect to attend the FESTIVITIES at all.

              she is far from the girl he is used to not seeing during parties, far from everything, nothing but ecstasy coursing through her veins. verena isn’t concerned with anything except how to hold onto the unfamiliar feeling, her pink lips stretched into a grin as she answers him. “ mm, you wish, ” she breezes, hooking a finger underneath his chin as she did, skin buzzing to life with the fleeting contact. the urge for more — for closeness and contact and warmth tugs at her, so verena busies herself by stealing the cup the other is holding from his hands. “ aren’t you going to congratulate me ? ” she asks, her tone airy and playful and so unlike her as she takes a sip of his drink, her gaze never straying from his, the burn of the liquor masked by the drug already clouding her head. “ you can help me celebrate. ”  

[vercnas-blog]

               there is a lightness in her chest that is unfamiliar, artificial euphoria like a seed budding within her, filling up all that space. verena is one pill past thinking about all the reasons she had wanted to cross the line into intoxication in the first place, nothing on her mind except how good it had felt when celia had passed the drug with a kiss and how much she was itching to do it again. normally, verena flinched away from all affection unless it was being delivered to her in a hard and unhealthy way. now she longs for it — for the pads of her fingertips to meet the warmth of soft skin, for a pair of hands to trace the curves of her body.  “ celia, ” verena exclaims into the buzzing of the party, a sudden rush of adoration for the friend who had her feeling so high. she tugs the other girl closer to her, one hand resting on the small of celia’s back, the other moving up until verena had a finger pressed against the girl’s lips.  “ do you want to know a secret ? ” she hums, eyes dancing with all sorts of energy as her gaze meets the other’s. verena doesn’t wait for an answer, moving even closer yet to whisper into her friend’s ear like she had some great confession. “ i feel so good,” she pulls her head back with a laugh, the finger she has pressed against celia’s lips unnmoving. “ do i feel good ?”  @cvlias   

[vercnas-blog]

Letting go. Everyone talks about it like it’s the easiest thing. Unfurl your fingers one by one until your hand is open. But my hand has been clenched into a fist for…years now; it’s frozen shut.

Gayle Forman, Where She Went  (via wordsnquotes)

[vercnas-blog]

 cvlias:

               maybe celia was cruel , the thought even harbors a place within her own thoughts but is quickly dismissed through the means of her own gratification . after all , that’s what she needed verena for : to ensure & solidify her importance in someone else’s life . but she wants so much more than the overbearing insecurities which ravage a hole in her chest large enough to become all - consuming , wants so much more than even verena has to offer , but she’s aches to be simply wanted . & the instant contentment which overcomes her through verena’s presence alone keeps a motivating stance .   —   she knows exactly what game she is playing , the words needed to ensure that the outcome would be favorable for her . saccharine words plaguing a tongue which is more than capable of feeding fallacies beyond even her known capability . hiding the gaze of complacency as the dark - haired female finally took the drink is effortless , a facade plainly painted across features .   ’   no , my entire plan was to make you drink that & leave again . wasn’t it obvious ? … i’ll show you fun ,   ’   without pause , digits encircle the other’s wrist & she pulls forward , steps being taken towards the general center of the room . blown pupils trace neon light , bodies pressing from every side create a touch of ecstasy which she’s unable to ignore . but now , she moves to take the others hands in hers , digits interlocking . she’s slow , guiding both of their hands to the curve of celia’s waist , tracing every contour & line before bringing palms down to her hips . her voice is low , brims brushing against the other’s ear as hues flutter shut ,   ‘   all you have to do is put your hands on my hips , & dance . just let loose .   ’ 

                her throat was burning. the aftertaste of whatever she had poured down was only making verena suspicious, desperately trying to piece together all the wrong things. she didn’t like how the night turning out, or the fact that she had let celia drag her along in the first place. there was a part of verena that was tempted to flee, to run away until she was back where she could at least pretend she felt comfortable. but the bigger part of her was tempted to stick around, to hang onto celia like one day verena would wake and the other girl would be gone. she was just about to make a retort towards the other’s sarcasm before she’s being tugged forward, her fingers losing their grip on her empty cup. verena can only watch as it rolls across the floor, the sudden movement into such a densely packed crowd disorienting her. “ what — what are you doing ? ” she manages, only realizing their proximity once her gaze moves back to meet celia’s, the empty cup forgotten as she blinks in surprise. verena is close enough to count every lash on the other girl, and she takes in the widen pupils the same way she might take in noticing celia had gotten a haircut. she doesn’t stop the other girl from taking her hands or from guiding them down the contours of her body, fingertips buzzing to life with the unexpected contact. “ i don’t...know how to do that, ” verena murmurs, defeat softening her voice enough she wasn’t sure it would even be audible. she could feel the warmth of celia’s breath against her cheek, her hands steady on the other girl’s hips like instructed. she was far from her element and things were starting to feel fuzzy, her body lit with a false sense of warmth flooding through her veins courtesy of  the alcohol. a bitter taste still lingered on her tongue like a warning. “ i can’t. ”   

[vercnas-blog]

adoncs:

adonis   knows   what   they   have   is   by   no   means   HEALTHY,   but   then   again,   a   majority   of   his   relationships   weren’t.   verena   was   a   way   to   cope   with   every   loss   he   encountered   time   and   time   again,   and   he’s   not   dissuaded   from   doing   the   same   for   her.   he   is   not   terribly   disconnected   today,   and   perhaps   that’s   why   he   feels   the   smallest   inkling   of   guilt   on   his   shoulders   as   he   looks   into   her   eyes,   listens   to   her   speak   her   thankful   words   in   his   ears   and   only   lets   his   lips   slip   into   something   like   serenity.   thumbs   still   brush   her   skin,   a   tiny   comforting   gesture,   and   when   she   pulls   he   falls   into   the   familiar   pattern   like   clockwork.   mouth   skims   her   cheek,   fingers   entangling   in   soft   tresses.   “   you’re   welcome.   ”   he   hums,   lips   brushing   her   skin   with   each   pronounced   syllable.   they   place   butterfly   kisses   from   edge   of   her   jaw   to   her   neck,   digit   gently   shifting   aside   the   cloth   of   her   shirt   to   press   burning   busses   into   her   collar   bone,   a   feeling   kin   to   a   thousand   small   fires   ablaze.   part   of   him   feels   ever   so   vacant,   there’s   no   LOVE   here,   no   true   sensation   aside   from   desperation   to   emote   anything   at   all   and   a   muted   desire   to   kiss   away   the   bleak   storm   keeping   them   both   hostage.  

                most of the time, her body was a shell that was used to being mistreated. verena was not a stranger to violence or not so nurturing hands. she was no temple — there was no love there, no kindness allowed for the skin and bones she felt so trapped by. most of the time, her body and mind existed in two different spaces. and even now, with his butterfly kisses and blazing touches, she finds it difficult to stay grounded for long. her lashes flutter, pleased, but she finds it impossible to keep her hands from balling back into fists as she moves them down his chest. everything was too delicate, too fragile because of the desperation that was driving every touch. most of the time, her body was just a vessel. she didn’t feel a thing. a breathless sigh passes from her lips before she’s working a finger under his chin, focusing his attention for a moment. “ it doesn’t have to be gentle, ”  she breathes, teeth pressing down on the same part of her lip she had made bleed earlier, the soreness of it a comfort. it was the only way verena knew how to fix whatever had gone wrong inside of her — nothing done to her felt as cruel if she was the one being the cruelest.  “ you can hurt me. ”  and, as if to demonstrate, she takes one of his hands in hers and guides it up across her body, the same body she never learned to care for, until his fingers reached the base of her throat. 

[vercnas-blog]

In you, I see the heroines of Shakespeare’s tragedies. You, unhappy lady, were never saved by anybody.

Marina Tsvetaeva, Bride of Ice: New Selected Poems (via carol-danvers)

[vercnas-blog]

ofastons:

THE INVITE WAS ONLY HALF-SERIOUS, genuine in the fact that she was welcome to join in on the celebrations, but offered with the knowledge that this type of party DEFINITELY wasn’t verena’s scene. aston’s observed her enough to know that any red solo cup clenched in her hand is much more likely to be a figment of his imagination than any kind of indulgence into the reckless university scene. still, he passed the invite along, assured that his team would easily take home the victory and naturally congregate at one of the teammates flats to embrace the more DEGENERATE side of st. andrew’s finest football team. he’s about ten pints too deep to pass for anything remotely CLOSE to sober, but he’d seen verena both when she entered the party and when she slipped out to the back, and it’s during a lull in an intense game of beer pong that he echoes her steps. chasing the unmistakable sharp scent of cigarette smoke, he finds her only by the ember glow protruding from her lips and the bluish glint of her hair under the moonlight. ‘ no need to pull your punches, ’ he admonishes, red lips stretching into something sharp as hazel eyes move over her frame. for being so out of place in personality, she can certainly blend physically. he shrugs once, gaze remaining on hers even has he lifts his cup to his lips, numbing his lips with something that holds a little more bite than simple lager. ‘ what do you think? ’

               she wonders if maybe she could have been one of them — the revelers living life without a care in the world, nothing to worry about except making it to a morning lecture after a wild night out. they exist only in the present moment, a lifestyle of immediacy she had never had the luxury to live. maybe in another life, a life without her parents or diadem imperium or any of it,  verena could have turned out the same. and as much as she’s apathetic to parties and the people that frequented them, she’s terribly jealous of how easy they make things seem. the corners of her lips pull up into the ghost of a smile at his words, eyes moving down to watch the cup he brings towards his mouth. verena takes a step towards him, the smoke of her burning cigarette like a halo as it drifts up above her head  “ i think you smell like shitty college beer. ” she laughs, the sound of it fleeting as her lips busy themselves again by taking another pull.  “ so no, clearly i’m not missing anything. ” smoke moves from her throat like a fog, dark eyes sparkling in curiosity. the itch of discomfort was only momentarily forgotten, dulled by the cigarette and welcome company. “ congrats on the win, by the way. ” verena praises before she’s cocking her head to the side, gesturing towards the party within. “ is this really the most exciting way you know how to celebrate ? ”  

[vercnas-blog]

she’s not willing to let you live

[vercnas-blog]

◤°░｡ ✕ TASK ONE ; THE ELECTION ! ’ 〉

never want anything too much and you will never be disappointed. never believe in yourself too much and you will never be surprised when you fail. these were the rules verena had shaped her life around, her self-deprecating mindset one of the most memorable gifts bestowed on her by her parents. it’s been a year but verena can still remember the metallic taste of blood in her mouth the night the moon’s found out their daughter intended to run for a position on diadem imperium’s board as secretary, the way her cheek stung for hours after a familiar pain the way a sore muscle might be to an athlete. the lowest job on the hierarchy and yet even that had not satisfied her parents who had only ever wasted their breath to warn her against the dangers of ambition. never strive to be more than you are and you will never be corrupted. never reach for the things you can’t see and you will never fall short. they had tried to dissuade her the only way they knew how. by beating her down, by breaking her spirits, by reminding her above all she was to be humble — but verena had grown accustomed to the violence. it didn’t work. and once her parents had flown back to their home in new york, she ran for secretary. she won. and now a year later, she was preparing to do it all again.

verena hadn’t answered her phone all day. a larger part of her wanted to smash it, to chuck it out a window, maybe, until the dangerously high amount of missed calls was no longer seared into the back of her eyelids every time she tried to close her eyes. it would be pointless and she knew that. the society had eyes everywhere, and past members like her parents were always in the know even countries away. she was exhausted — dark circles flawlessly concealed by make-up, fatigue momentarily put at bay by energy drinks. she had long since mastered the art of looking and acting put together when she was far from it, the right garments and twist of her dark hair doing most of the work. this was not the first time verena had faced sleepless night after sleepless night, but it was the first time guilt had wracked her stomach hard enough she had thought it was the flu the first time she had tried to take a bite of food only to find out she couldn’t keep it down.  never want anything too much and you will never be disappointed. never believe in yourself too much and you will never be surprised when you fail. but she wasn’t listening anymore.  never strive to be more than you are and you will never be corrupted. never reach for the things you can’t see and you will never fall short. the words were a forgotten echo now, something that only existed inside the deepest parts of her memory. ambition was a curse and she knew it. she would have to pay for defying her parents, win or lose, and she knew it. verena knew all of it — but it didn’t matter. 

she was hungry for something she had never been allowed to have: HOPE.  

“ astronomers tell us we are made from stardust. when the universe was first created, no other elements existed besides hydrogen and helium. and then the first star exploded, the supernova creating new elements, the very elements our bodies are made up of. if that’s true, then each one of us is something celestial. and looking across this room, i can’t say i disagree. but i think we are more than that. there is a bigger reason we are all connected. my atoms knew your atoms before you or i existed. i think we all came from the same star. and i know in ancient times people might have called this fate, or the will of the gods — but i don’t believe in destiny. i believe in us. more importantly, i believe in this society. on november fourth, 1786, fourteen people shared the same vision. two hundred and thirty-two years later and we are still striving for the same things. we all want to change the world. we all want to make a difference. we all want to be remembered. that is what diadem imperium is about. ” 

 verena was tired of biting her tongue, of convincing herself she didn’t deserve more than that biting pain. and maybe she didn’t. but god, did she wish she did, she wanted so badly to believe that maybe, just maybe, she was allowed to dream for more. she was never good with her words. she had years of practice when it came to swallowing them, but expressing the things that usually went unspoken within her was unfamiliar territory. her nails dig into her palms to stop them from shaking. 

“ but this society cannot exist without it’s rules, and it cannot exist without each one of us playing our part. if you let me, i want to keep playing the part i have been for the past year as your secretary. i want to keep my voice on this board, because at the end of the day my voice is your voice. i would be lying if i said i was the best leader, or that i had a particular talent for pushing the crowd the way history’s most treasured trailblazer’s did. my strength isn’t in leading but in keeping us down to earth and together. it is human nature to get carried away, to be distracted by the sheer multitude of possibilities of what exactly we are capable of, but it is the secretary who reminds everyone of what their jobs are within our society. if you let me, i want to continue doing what i have been doing for the past year — reminding us of that original vision our ancestors cared enough about to form this eternal bond we are all a part of. because at the end of the day, it is not about what diadem imperium can do for us. it is about what we can do for diadem imperium. we are all a part of something that is bigger than us. we all have a duty to protect and take care of what the founding fourteen made possible for us. i want to honor that as secretary, but if you ever feel small within our society without a title, let me remind you of something. they say it takes a village to raise a child. that’s how the saying goes. and we are not raising a child, but we are all nurturing the same thing. it takes every single one of us to let this thing grow. and we are the village. we are all puzzle pieces that belong to the larger picture. we are all parts of a greater machine. we are all made from the same star. the greatest of empires collapsed not because of outer forces, but because of inner turmoil. i won’t let that happen. the power is always in your own hands, so there is nothing stopping you. help me keep building our empire that has never had to learn how to collapse. ”  

[vercnas-blog]

I am not comfortable in my own skin; But I am trying to be. Damn it, I am trying to be.

(via wincesterious)

[vercnas-blog]

                she wasn’t good with crowds. too many people made her feel suffocated, the feeling reminiscent to the way her father used to press a hand tight against her mouth to muffle the sound of her crying when she had been too young to know how to control it. verena wasn’t comfortable around people she didn’t know — she was hardly alright with the ones she did know. outside of diadem imperium she only existed to the rest of st andrew’s within the walls of her classrooms, an isolation of her own doing. she didn’t frequent parties, either, and yet she had shown up anyway, not in support of the soccer team but in the one who had invited her there. verena had lasted for a good five minutes inside before she pushed past the bodies of strangers to get back outside, as if fresh air was what she needed to cure the discomfort that existed deep within her, present even when she was alone. she didn’t drink but she did smoke, the habit one she had only picked up with the safety of distance between her and her parents back home in new york. the cigarette is a comfort between her pink lips, her free hand cupping itself around the end as she lights it. verena had only managed a drag before her solitude was interrupted, a familiar face making it’s presence known. “ your teammates are sweaty, ” she says, like it’s a plausible excuse to why she’s not inside, smoke chasing her words. she lets her dark gaze fall over him while she takes another pull from her cigarette, eyes moving across his frame as if she is checking to see if maybe he was sweaty, too.  “ am i missing anything terribly exciting ? ”  @ofastons