for every heart aching like an open door for every god peering through the window for every journey ending with the same hobbled crawl home, with the voice in the back of the head like the mother, wailing. for every animal confession splitting the throat wide open— I clawed my way out of the womb like a monster I wanted to be loved so desperately that my fingers shook with it I am not beautiful but I could be I am volatile violated my body was not always my own I only look into the mirror to see the white of my eyes —Emily Palermo
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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[text] somewhere public
[text] I still don't trust you
[text] you said you were good at finding people
[text] that you wanted to help
[text] feel like proving that?
[Text:] Yes. Definitely.
[Text:] I meant it.
[Text:] May be better for us to speak in person, if you’re comfortable with that.
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Tony Hoagland, from “Peaceful Transition”, What Narcissism Means to Me
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"From what I've heard, the numbers have never stopped them before. The odds of twenty humans against one demon wouldn't be in their favor." But they had devised ways to incapacitate supernaturals, to strip them of their powers. And for that, only one human was needed. "Witches? Why would they..?" Elena paused, brows furrowed and head shaking as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing, instinctively stepping closer. Normally, she would take anything coming out of his mouth with a grain of salt, but it didn't seem like he had reason to lie. "And why would Artemis trust them? That doesn't make sense."
"There isn't one single species that can stop them. This isn't a power play." Her words came out a little harsher than she meant for them to, passion masquerading as impatience. She thought she knew what he meant. The deities were capable of reshaping reality, but Elio had made sure Elena understood why that option should never be on the table. Still, she didn't believe that was an excuse for inaction. "They won't. Not until it's too late." Her lips pressed into a hard line, hands curling slightly at her sides. "Though if their game plan is to fight fire with fire, maybe we're better off this way."
"Well, I'm willing to put that to the test." Defiance edged her voice as she lifted her chin. She had always had a stubborn streak and it was about time she put it to good use. "You said they had allies among the witches. Those allegiances must've come about somehow."
"I don't think you'll find them at random here, not unless they have the numbers for an attack," he answered. Isko might not know the ins and outs of this new group but he understood human nature well enough. They were cowards so they had to move in packs to take down the supernatural community. "I've heard that they have witch's on their side, ones that probably have magical items that can track what species you are. If you don't show up as human, they'll run the other way or attack you."
"Deities should be intimidating them, apparently your kind is the only one who can do something to stop them," he replied. Vampire's could do something about it but no one would like the result and he guessed that was the same for the demon's in the city too. The more peace driven species didn't seem to be all that bothered about catching or prosecuting the Artemis threat either so it was quietly infuriating to him. "If no one else is going to try and stop them, how far are they going to push things? When is it enough for the higher authorities to step in and fix things?" he asked curiously.
"This city will fall into chaos before Artemis listens to a supernatural being, even if they're a deity like you." Isko had heard how human's forsake the gods nowadays. When he was a child, he would have been beaten black and blue for talking against a god and now there was no punishments delved out, no old testament kind of smiting happening. It was a damn shame.
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Her head dipped in a quick nod as her gaze found the mat. It might’ve been a rhetorical question coming from someone else, but with Caleb, she couldn’t be sure. With all its sprawling roots and branches, the Lycaon family tree was a particularly tricky one to keep track of. "It wasn't his fault." The words came quicker than she expected—so quick they startled her. After everything Augustine had said, after how deeply he’d hurt her, her first instinct should’ve been to agree with Caleb. And yet, as the words left her mouth, Elena couldn’t ignore the truth ringing through them.
“But shouldn’t that count as a defense mechanism, rather than an act of outright hostility?” she asked, trying not to let the conversation spiral too far from its center. Caleb had been patient so far—she hoped he’d stay that way. Her own bruised heart aside, she was starting to understand why Augustine had reacted the way he had. But that didn’t mean his view wasn’t skewed by past hurt. And it didn’t stop her from needing another perspective. “He said they hunt you for sport. For fun. That it isn’t in their nature to be good. That those who seem to be... only pretend.”
"Auggie?" Caleb's brows rose when Augustine was brought up because that was a surprise. "Well, he is a little rough around the edges. And he isn't the most tactful either." That and the man had been through a lot to get to where he is today. To know that Elena had fought with Augustine over a vampire was not particularly surprising.
"Apart from our species having a deep-rooted animosity towards one another, we're both apex predators and our bloods are toxic to each other..." It sounded so crass to describe his own kind like this, but that was the reality of it too. Caleb shook his head before asking his next question. "Did he specify any sort of threat?"
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"Like you have any right to talk." The words were out before she had a chance to stop them. Her voice sounded muffled and far away, like it wasn't her own at all, her field of vision narrowed to Matthew.
"Wasn't it the epitome of stupid that caused your fall? Because I know it couldn't have been something terrible, or Elio wouldn't still be speaking to you. He holds you in higher regard than Ursa even."
"—Or is it just out of pity?"
"I am," Matthew smirked. There was little point in lying when his glee was clear on his face.
Something stupid? Now that got Matthew's attention, his proverbial ears perking up. What could possibly have gotten Elena so worked up? "Like I said. He will be here eventually. You could use this as an opportunity to teach yourself some patience. It might prevent you from doing something stupid. What sort of stupid would you get up to anyway?"
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The smile Elena gave him in return still lacked its usual brightness, but it was genuine. It was easy enough to read the intent behind his wording. She knew the groundskeeper position was only ever given to supernaturals—elves preferably—but he had no such standards to judge her by. "I'm a lot stronger than I look," she quipped, pushing her sleeves up past her elbows as she joined him on the grass. "Promise." Strong enough that she would have to pretend to struggle at least a little bit, if she didn't want to draw any attention.
His demeanor was calm, centered, so Elena didn't bother to shut her empathic abilities off. If anything she leaned into them, allowed his emotions to sway her own as far as they would go. "It's complicated." It was a cop-out of an answer but she didn't want to lie to him, yet she didn't want to sully his good mood either. "Let's just say you're doing me a favor by giving me something else to focus on."
"I'm Elena." She stuck her hand out for him to shake while it was still clean then motioned at the hole he had been digging. "Would you say that's deep enough to plant them yet, or will we need to go deeper?"
“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to do that, but that’s very kind.” Nari replied with a gentle smile, though it wouldn’t be the first time a member of the public had kindly asked to help him, with a genuine interest in doing so. It was usually the elderly who had their own wealth of knowledge on plants, or young children wanting to get stuck into the mud planting bulbs. “They’re quite heavy and I wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” It wasn’t meant to be patronising, more a question he sometimes asked in order to try and decipher if someone was supernatural or not. It didn’t always work, but sometimes it helped.
Regardless of who or what she was, there was something about the young woman that seemed sad. “Out walking this morning?” Nari asked, “It’s a good place to clear your head. Or at least, I usually find it to be.”
#♔‘゚‣ { thread } — ↳ Nari#/for the record: I will never ever mind cutting your posts! Not in a million years <3
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Elena tried not to flinch. She hated that he felt like he needed to put up a front with her. There was no way he was alright. No one—no matter how tough or hardened by life—would be alright if put in Augustine’s position. Though she supposed she deserved that.
Not wanting to make herself too comfortable, she found a spot at the kitchen block to lean against, somewhere that gave her a good view of the apartment. "So this is..." She lifted a hand in a vague gesture at their surroundings, then let it fall back against her thigh with a light thump. "You’re going to live here now?" It wasn’t really the question she wanted to ask—but it was a step in that direction.
"I’ve been better." The admission came with a frown as she bit the inside of her cheek. Miscommunication had broken their necks before, and she didn’t feel like lying to him. "Nothing new. Just trying to keep myself busy, helping people repair the damage Artemis caused during the blackout. It feels good to be useful."
Augustine couldn’t help the rejection he felt in response to Elena’s body language, gaze downcast for a moment as he let her pick where she wanted to sit or stand to be comfortable in the unfamiliar space.
“I’m alright,” he answered back softly, the words a lie but as much as he felt comfortable saying in the moment. “Caleb brought some stuff from my apartment… Stuff my family didn’t take, at least.“ He shrugged. He had also spent a lot of time combing over Faust’s apartment, trying to learn more about the witch in the process— although he had a feeling Elena wouldn’t care much to learn about his killer. “How about you? Anything new?”
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“Because I don’t think either one of us will like what the other has to say.” Her voice was quiet, steady only on the surface. “And I don’t want to fight with you.” Elena glanced at him then, her gaze catching for a heartbeat before slipping away again. “I can’t...” She turned slightly, jaw tightening and lips pressing together, like she could will the sudden rush of emotions back down her throat. But it didn’t work. Whatever else she was going to say died unspoken, caught behind the burn in her chest and the sharp sting of tears.
Elio couldn't help his own disappointment, gaze filled with concern as he asked, "And why's that?" He certainly didn't want to make Elena speak with him, but he also couldn't help his strong concern for her well being in light of what had transpired.
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Beck's words echoing through her head, Elena is helpless to stop what happens next. Not that she wants to. Not that any part of her wants to. She falls into gravity's pull—the moon having wandered too close to earth—and returns the pressure of Beck's lips against her own without a moment's hesitation. It feels as right as breathing. As right as taking a corner kick and slotting the ball between the goalie and the far post.
She'll tell herself otherwise—tell anyone who cares to listen otherwise—but the reverence with which she cradles Beck's face in her palms couldn't be farther from a meaningless make-out session. The way her heart stutters, then trips over itself, has nothing to do with scratching an annoyingly persistent itch. It's not a need for dominance that has Elena pushing up onto her knees, but the unshakable yearning to be closer to Beck.
As the first contact breaks, Elena pulls back a fraction, her lips still hovering close to Beck's. There's a host of things she could say— You're beautiful. I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you. I don't mind Valentine's Day as long as it's with you.—but the moment she opens her eyes to look at the other girl, the weight of it all threatens to crush her.
"It's just the drugs, right..?"
She hates how much it sounds like a plea, rolling off her tongue and dropping into the breath of space between them. Hates how vulnerable she sounds, how out of control she feels. It's an excuse that might hold later when said drugs wear off, but it sure as hell won't hold if Beck challenges her on it now.
Beck tries her best not to go into a completely love sick daze as she feels Elena's hands trailing her skin - eyes half lidded as she stares out at the view of the school grounds ahead of her, focused on every millimetre of contact between them. She's thankful that for the moment that her back is turned, that Elena can't see every thought she is certain is visible quite clearly across her face. Every part of her yearns to twist around, to take hold of those hands that lingered at her ribs and take them in her own. It seemed like a boundary was wavering, as the bubbles of the champagne seemed to fizz across her mind, dampening her usually strict hold on sense.
But, Beck doesn't given in just yet. Just before Elena's hands fully move away, she allows herself to tilt her head to glance over her shoulder, a wave of dark curls moving with her as she focuses on Elena. A small smile appears as she watches the other girl, lazy and satisified - not sure if the high she's starting to feel is from her touch, or the first drags of the joints. "Thank you, Elena." Her words are genuine, though a smirk does tug at her lips. "If you've drawn some vulgar picture on my back that I'll discover later when I burn - I'll get my revenge, you know." She's quick to laugh, before settling back into a more comfortable position.
As Beck finishes coughing, another burst of giggling escaping her, it takes a second for her to properly focus and see the way that Elena is looking at her. Her brows furrow quizzically, wafting away that first brief moment of concern she sees. "Don't stress, Elena, I'm fin-" Her words are quickly cut off when the compliment is aired between them. She tries not to let the shock too apparent, simply allowing her head to tilt, giving Elena a searching glance - waiting for the insult or eye roll that would usually accompany such a remark.
Beck sees the way Elena's expression changes shortly after the comment leaves her. Sees something like regret there in her eyes. Beck almost takes it to heart, but she clings on to that brief moment that passed between them. She doesn't think. Not as she leans forward, bridging the gap between them as her hand reaches up to brush against the edge of Elena's jaw, watching her intently.
"You're always cute." Her smile is suddenly wide and care-free, hiding any of those inner insecruities. She gives Elena a beat in which she can lean away if she wants, before she leans in closer - pressing her lips to hers at first gently, a testing touch.
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Elena knew she was good without needing to be told—but somehow, when it came to soccer, it never got old. Maybe because it was the only thing she consistently got praised for. She didn’t even care what Caia’s intentions were. Not with the compliment. Not with the handshake.
“Sure, I guess.” She shrugged. “Though I’ll pass on your chlorine-infested water. But, hey—anytime you consider switching teams…” The air between them still charged, Elena held Caia’s gaze, then stepped forward to clasp their hand with hers.
Caia ran, knowing that Elena would be behind them, but even so they misjudged just how quickly the other student would suddenly appear to steal the ball from them. Elena's footwork was a marvel to behold and there was little Caia could do to retrieve the ball from her once she had it under her control. This was why Caia stuck to the water.
They both watched as Elena scored the goal and Caia whistled, impressed. "You're not too bad yourself," they grinned and moved closer to the other student, reaching a hand out for a handshake. Even when they both knew that Elena was clearly the more proficient one of them both.
"Our sports team should do exchange programs. It wouldn't be a bad idea for us to learn from one another."
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If Elio wanted to lay into her, Elena was certain he would've done so days ago. He wouldn't need her to stand to do it either. His only source of disappointment had seemed to be her evasion of him, not her actions. She had nothing to fear from him. ...Not per se. Just everything his presence might undo—everything his choices might've already undone. Her entire composure hinged on one single very fragile thread and it promised to snap at even the faintest jolt. "I'd rather not."
“I’m sure it has. Come here,” he insisted, beckoning her closer with a wave of his palm as he moved to stand.
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She could tell how jumpy he was right from the get-go. It figured. This had to be... debilitating. He'd gained a second chance, sure, but at what cost? Elena had spent more than a few nights lying awake, wondering if he hated her for what she’d done. For what she’d taken from him. She still did. It would be an easy emotion to clock, if she allowed herself to sense his feelings, but she was too afraid of being right. Too afraid of what else she might find.
"I-I... Thank you." Shaking herself from her thoughts, she slipped past his still-broad, but entirely unfamiliar frame. It didn’t matter how long it had been, or how much she tried to prepare herself for the sight of... Faust, Elena still couldn’t seem to bridge the disparity in her mind. Whenever she thought of Augustine, the man standing across from her was not the one she imagined. Though, to be fair, she hadn't exactly gotten to spend much time with him to patch that rift.
"Hi..." Elena kept her voice soft and careful, as though she was afraid of startling the moment into breaking or of spooking him. She curled her hands at her sides, a quiet reminder not to reach for him—whether to prove he was real, or for reasons she kept buried as deep as they would go. "I just... wanted to see how you were doing." Her gaze darted around the room for a brief moment before landing back on him. "Ask how you're, um... settling in."
Despite lacking his elevated hearing, the former werewolf still hear the knock at his door. Or rather, at Faust’s. The home was a stranger to him even after attempting to settle in, although a few keepsakes snuck from his former apartment had softened the blow. He took one look out the peep hole, forced to rely on his sight alone to identify the familiar figure. He felt weak— vulnerable, without his lifelong abilities, and was itching to learn to control what powers the witch possessed, if only to regain some semblance of self confidence.
Once glance was all it took to confirm his guest was Elena, and Augustine promptly unlocked and opened the door, motioning for her to come in. Matters between them were… Confusing. And he hated that it was even harder to read her now. He also couldn’t fathom why she was bothering with him still—what her intentions were, when he felt like a shell of his former self.
“Please… Come in.”
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for: @augustine-lycaon
location: Auggie's new place
Elena appeared just outside his door, a few steps back from the threshold. She had deliberately chosen a later hour—fewer eyes meant fewer questions. If anyone saw her here, it wouldn’t take much to put the pieces together, and that was the last thing they needed right now.
She knocked. First softly, then again, a little firmer the second time. Maybe this was a mistake. She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect, but seeing Augustine felt as necessary as breathing—even if he no longer looked like himself.
When the door opened, she didn’t move. Her mouth parted slightly, but no sound came. The words she had meant to lead with—simple ones, easy—scattered before she could reach for them. She just stood there, wide-eyed and still, caught somewhere between disbelief and longing.
#♔‘゚‣ { thread } — ↳ Augustine#/hope this is okay#/if you need me to change something please let me know
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"Fine. I'm fine." She wasn’t, and they both knew it. Yet here he was, asking—which both annoyed and appeased different parts of her. It was a strange duality that had crept into their relationship, and though Elena understood where it came from, she had no idea how to fix it. "I'm tired. It's been a long few days."
“Elena,” Elio responded with a disappointed look, not forcing her to move closer yet not willing to go along with her very obvious avoidance of any normal conversation. “I don’t want to talk about myself right now. My concern is for you. How are you holding up?”
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The entire park stood in stark contrast to how Elena had last seen it. Every plant was brimming with life, their colors more vibrant even than she remembered them being during the previous Earth day celebrations. The tranquility that permeated the space felt so far removed from death, violence and tragedy. There was no mark left in the space where it had happened. No blood staining the ground. No broken earth. Not even a single stubborn patch of grass refusing to grow. Just... nothing.
Nature had healed and reclaimed the space for itself. It had moved on while she was still stuck on her knees, skin smeared with blood that wasn't her own. Elena hadn’t come back since that night. Hadn’t even let herself walk past the gates—too afraid that doing so would sever the last remaining thread holding her together.
She swallowed, eyes scanning the space where she remembered finding him—where she returned every time she closed her eyes. The air was light now, the grass soft beneath her feet, the world too alive for the boulder weighing heavily on her chest.
Blinking herself back into reality, Elena's gaze settled on a man working a little further down the path, elbow-deep in the soil. He looked completely at home here, every petal and leaf practically humming in gratitude for his presence. As he paused to study the trees, she stepped closer, softly clearing her throat. "Do you want some help with those?"
When he didn’t hear her the first time, she spoke again—just a touch louder, but still gentle. “The trees. I asked if you wanted help.” She doubted that he need any. The state of the park was testament to his ability, his competence. But she liked feeling useful—it was the only thing keeping her afloat these days—and didn't mind getting her hands dirty. Maybe giving something back to this place could help her make peace with it. And perhaps, in time, it could help her heal.
Nari was very much enjoying his time back as Head Groundskeeper. Vievecor City Park had been his pride and joy before his leave of absence two years ago and he was very much at peace within its grounds. Although, it had been a busy time since his return. A Treant named Grayalder had planted roots in his absence an so it had been a priority to introduce himself and to apologise for leaving the park unprotected. Thankfully, the Treant seemed to be a forgiving being and for that Nari was grateful. There was the discovery of the ancient ruins, that had been cordoned off by the Westwood clan leader and of course general maintenance and getting things just-so.
Nari had been starting his mornings even earlier than usual so that he could get some work done in the park before the humans arose, dead heading the roses, planting supports for new trees, cleaning the fountains. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he now stared down at the three rather large holes in the earth he’d just finished creating, that was of course after he’d tended to numerous large flower beds, easily correcting some ill health that had befallen the tulips and daffodils. He was glancing between the holes and the three bay trees that needed planting, when he heard someone’s voice behind him.
“Oh— good morning. I’m sorry, did you say something? I was in a world of my own.”
@elenaramirez
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It must have been, considering neither species seemed to have let go of their animosity towards the other. But Augustine's words had suggested a more recent, if constant state. Something much more primal.
Elena crossed the room to sit with him, folding her legs on top of one of the yoga mats laid out across from Caleb. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and worried it between her teeth, hesitating for a moment, then shook her head. "No." Reading between the lines, Augustine had called her ignorant. Ignorant, stupid and naive—among a host of other things. But out loud, he hadn't called her anything but a mistake.
"Yeah, but that's a lousy excuse. I'm not eight years old. I'm not a child," Elena protested. She had still been young, but already an adult for all intents and purposes when she had died. Her powers were still in their infancy, but she wasn't. She couldn't very well run around handing out cards after each conversation that read 'By the way, in case you were hurt or offended by anything I said, there's a 50 % chance I didn't mean it, cause technically I'm still a kid and don't know shit'. "I doesn't matter why I don't know. It matters that I don't."
It felt too soon to make this personal—she didn’t want Caleb to stop sharing what he knew. But she also didn’t want to mislead him.
"I had a fight with your cousin... He was trying to explain something to me and I—" Trailing off, a pained grimace pulled over Elena's features as she averted her gaze. The words stuck in her throat, too tangled with questions she still didn’t have answers to. Releasing a steadying breath, she forced herself to continue. "He said that vampires are a threat to you—biologically?"
"Ah," Caleb nodded in response. "That rivalry is centuries old by now..." the wolf pointed out. "I wasn't alive when the big war between vampires and werewolves took place in the 1300s... Neither was my mother, but she heard the war stories from the generation before which she passed down to me and my siblings... We all have. The Pact was formed shortly after that war ended, so I imagine it must've been a pretty bad one..."
Caleb looked up at Elena and gestured for her to come inside the studio to sit down. There was not going to be another class for awhile and they were the only ones present at the moment. "Oh? Did someone call you ignorant?" That was a harsh word, but supernatural creatures were also old and there were many of them who were good at holding grudges. "I wouldn't be so hard on yourself since you're saying you're only an eight-year old deity and I take it you knew nothing about us supernaturals before that?"
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Elena gave a small nod of acknowledgment. His reasoning was sound, and his feelings appeared to be genuine, even if he talked like he had never met a deity who wasn't at least several thousand years old. Still, she couldn't bring herself to lower her guard and she sure as hell wasn't about to clue him in on how much she had yet to learn. Holding a magnifying glass to the power imbalance that already existed between them could only be to her detriment.
Mind magic, as he called it, was something she had no desire to learn. Reading people's emotions was one thing, and it had come to her as naturally as breathing—so easily in fact, that she had to learn how not to do it. But there were times when even that felt incredibly invasive. She couldn't imagine being privy to anything that went on in other people's heads. Some things were sacred. Just because something was possible, didn't mean you had to do it.
"Why did you stop me?" Her brows drew together and she gave the faintest shake of her head. "You didn't know what I was going to do." A beat. "You don't." The raven momentarily forgotten, her gaze remained locked on him. "If you knew what was happening in there, why didn't you act?"
The deity's weariness was evident, and Roan wasn't sure what else he could do but try to explain that he had never meant to hurt nor intrude. Not giving him her name showed that she was still keeping him at a distance. At least it seemed that Patrick's presence was not an issue.
"No, and I do apologise for that again, us witches are usually not in the habit of doing that," he said sincerely, even slightly ashamed. So he was the second witch she had met, and he wasn't setting a very good standard for their kind. "Witches have different powers that we choose to evolve, and we have to study magic for years to master it. For deities, such as yourself, most magic is readily available," he nodded in her direction and gave her a sheepish smile. "I therefore assumed, incorrectly, that all deities were familiar with mind magic as a form of communication. I wished to avoid a scene back at the café, feeling that you were about to make a mistake, that was my sole intention. I am sorry about the intrusion."
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