[AMNESTY DAY] [original] various

[saraste-impi.livejournal.com]

Hope I'm doing this right!

Title: (unnamed, perfect drabble)
Day/Theme: 25. listening to the radio
Series: original
Character/Pairing: slash, unspecified
Rating: NC-17

They had it on to hide their noises. And such noises they were. Grunts, moans, gasps all following in other in a jumbled order, accompanied by the slick smacks of flesh on flesh, the creak of the bed-springs and the their labored breathing. Flesh smacked against flesh, lips were pressed to lips and all was forgotten but the grind, the delicious friction of their bodies against each other. They were letting themselves drown in the bliss of it and it was wonderful. Release came, unexpected, anticipated yet surprising. Twin shouts covered the music as passion released, a coil snapped, free.

Title: Dying for a Kiss
Day/Theme: 26. plunging like a stone
Series: oiriginal – my post-apocalyptic vampire story
Character/Pairing: Edith, Livy
Rating: PG-13

Falling. She was falling and had no way to stop it. Death rushed to her in black wings, like the ground beneath her, the street just aching to kiss her skin and break her bones. The towering building rushed past her quicker than she could see, register, know.

Snow whirled around her as her magic wrapped her into a black cloud. Her magic was wild, scared of her imminent demise. Edith did not want to die, but her fall... she knew there would be no surviving it. She screamed, her cry rending the air, a death wail.

The concrete rushed up to her and embraced her. She felt pain like she had never felt before. It exploded in her brain, smashing everything. Her magic simmered and wailed, fluctuated and... She lay there, broken but not dead. Still for a long while, aware of nothing but a horrible agony which pulsed red hot, a thousand boiling needles in her skin. Her magic sustained her, keeping her alive. Yet she was broken. She could still breathe, agonizingly slow, feeling like she was drawing in breaths of lava. No part of her body moved. She could not... she felt the pain but nothing moved.

She wished for death as she lay there, the snow slowly covering her, bit by bit. The concreted under her icy cold. Her blood was everywhere, yet she was not perishing. At least not as quickly as she was hoping to. She knew, Edith knew that she was broken beyond repair. This was her end. And she had been so close.

Every heartbeat was agony as she lay there, broken and defeated. She did not feel the cold, but felt everything else, which made no sense to her, at least not when she thought about it, in those moments of terrible clarity over her demise. She was a Fae, how could her body break in this manner in the first place? When would the agony end and she was allowed the sweet release of death, which would take away all her pain, all her sorrows. All of that which was her.

She ached for Livy, but feared that her lover had met her final end.

Their enemies had little mercy to bestow upon them. They were people to be eradicated, to be made dead, erased from the world. Edith wondered idly how she was meeting her end, alone. She who had once been so loved, she who had thought that she was human. But who had been woken into her true self.

There were steps, barely audible, a dragging gait through the snow coming closer and closer. Edith was almost past caring. All she wished was a quick end. An end which was not allowed to her. For it was Livy, who suddenly appeared into her line of vision, bloodied and pale.

“Ar...” was all Edith could get out, her lungs rasping with blood. She had no voice to give, having screamed all her words on her way down. A last attempt to grasp life, stop her demise, she had failed.

“They are dead, some fled,” Livy supplied, kneeling by Edith's side. “You are broken.” Dark eyes widened in surprise and none too gentle hands ran over Edith's battered body. “How can you be?” A pale hand caressed Edith's cheek, cold as ice.

Edith gasped. How could she feel Livy, when the street she lay upon, the small layer of snow upon her body, was something she did not feel.

Suddenly, a bloodied wrist was thrust in her mouth and Livy's hurried voice voiced a command, “Drink.”

She did, for the first time drinking Livy's blood with permission. Her body pulsed, convulsed, as she swallowed the crimson liquid down, her magic coming alive, knitting what was broken back together. She was too far gone to keep a rain on it, she thought that she heard Livy scream. But she drank on. She had to. The blood told her to. Demanded it with such intensity it was frightening. The pain ebbed as she took in more blood. Livy's life unraveled in front of her eyes faster than she could focus. Edith felt the whisper of death in the blood, heard the continuous scream. She had thought it her own yet it could not be.

Her lips let go and she took a deep breath.

Livy was slumped over her, panting but still within the unliving. The wail was gone. The wind howled and the snow whirled around them, dancing about as pink flakes, blood mixing in. A wind of death. There was a horrible stench, which Edith realized was Livy's flesh, burned, scorched right down to the bone in parts. She could not believe the lengths her lover had gone for her. It was all too much. Too big a sacrifice. But she also knew that she had to bear it. That there was nothing to it. Nothing at all but to accept, it had been made and she needed to live with it.

“Have to go, can't stay,” Livy growled, her growl barely masking the undercurrent of pain in her voice.

“You didn't have to,” Edith said, still laying on the cold ground, icy coldness seeping into her bones. She had to say the words, even when both knew now that Livy really needed to do what she had done.

“Never say that, ma chérie,” Livy gasped, never say that.

Edith took hold of her, because she must, because there was something she needed to do now. Her magic had been sated, her body mended and now she had to pay. Pay with such gratitude as could never really be paid in full. Livy's lips were pressed to Edith's bruised neck, marred with old scars, scars now healing with rapid speed as Livy's healing blood flowed within the Fae's veins.

“Drink...”

Livy did, ravaging Edith back, body and soul. Equivalent exchange. Her bloodied kiss bound them irrevocably together and at least Edith knew that was what she had wanted all along. She herself had now been changed in a way which could not be undone. Her life tied to Livy's and Livy's to hers.

It was why she had not grasped the window frame better, when she had been shoved through the window ten stories up.

Title: Losing Oneself
Day/Theme: 27. the slash of the silver blade
Series: original post-apocalyptic vamprie story
Character/Pairing: Edith, Livy
Rating: NC-17

She saw a flash of silver and heard Livy scream.

“Are you all right?” she yelled, not being able to look and confirm her companions well-being with her own eyes. She had trouble all her own, well they were both in the same boat, being surrounded, their lives threatened. Edith really hated all kinds of were's at the moment. And witches. The ones she saw seemed to be Fae, like her, which just meant that their bodies were more susceptible for catching and siphoning magic.

Dark energy simmered at her fingertips and she panted.

She was scared. She had not been raised up for this. She should never have been fighting. Yet she knew that she would. Because the simple truth of it all was, she had to. No doing otherwise. She wanted to live, she fought. Fought for her life. She knew too much. She was the secret keeper of her mothers memories, even when she could not tap them yet. She was missing the name. A name which would unlock the lock in her mind and bring it all out.

Three Fae witched surrounded her and Livy in a circle. Her back was against Livy's still. So the vampire must still live. But the cursing could not mean anything good. Edith knew that she must be imagining things yet she was sure that she heard Livy sob.

“Hey, how are you?!”

Edith could not use Livy's name, not even that, when it was not the vampire woman's actual given name, the one which could kill her if used by the wrong people. They had magic wielding Fae as opponents. Even someone averse to their cause, to them personally, could still hear a name and carry it to those who could use it to kill, maim, hurt, torture, rip their minds to shreds.

She really needed to know how Livy fared. The vampire scared her to death but there was a bond between them. Edith was addicted to Livy, there was nothing else to it. Hate herself as she might, she could not leave, could not keep from caring about the vampire. Her Fae blood made it so that her liaison was seen as treason by the Purists. But this group was not any faction of them. These members of the Other community just wanted Edith death because she was the adopted daughter of the vampire called Aamu.

Edith was young, but had already acquired quite a few monikers. For years she had been called Erinnerung, Aamu's memory, the reminder of her mortality, lost through the Blood. A vampire's constant reminder of mortals, of the humanity she had resembled.

The people around them called Edith The Angel of Death. The Dark Angel.

Death simmered and sizzled in her fingertips, the dark energy pulsing, taking form, smoking, as if her fingertips were on fire.

“I'll survive!”

The answer came, finally. Edith could not spare her eyes, her head for craning and looking. Words were all she would ever get. At that very moment she was infinitely glad that her name had spread like wildfire through the world, at least Europe, for the more people knew a name, the less power it wielded. It was why her mother had died, for few had known her given name, a name over half a millennia old. Edith could not think about that now. Couldn't.

“Edith Schwarz!”

Her name was yelled, loud, by one of the Fae, a dark haired male. So beautiful but so deadly. Skin like seaweed, hair like kelp, she was surprised to see him so far from the sea. And she knew what was to come. She spread her fingers in preparation, letting the energy web between her fingers. She swallowed. Her laughter ran across the field as the Fae looked at her, stymied.

“Too many know!” She cackled, triumphant, as she watched the faced around them grow angry, growls issuing from the were's mouths. They were shifting, too, which was not good, not good at all. Livy was fighting behind her, the swoosh of her sword swinging about thrown into the mix of sounds. “Who in the world taught you?”

“Silence!” The dark haired Fae kept Edith's gaze in his own, tried at least, Edith would not have none of that. She would not fall prey.

And then they advanced.

Edith was ready. She swung her hands, letting the energy reach wide, trying to keep Livy out of it. Good thing they had been practising. Edith felt the energy touch and take hold. She heard the screams. She tasted the burning flesh. It was agony for her too. To watch. To do anything to keep herself alive. It was a flurry of furred bodies jumping at her, magic wielders throwing what they had on her. All she could do was to keep them at bay.

It was over not a moment too soon.

Edith shook as she looked about her. She was covered in blood and gore, not her own. He ground around them was littered with corpses. The earth was soaking up the blood and errant magic pooling around the magic users, whose bodies still leaked it, the power flooding out from every bodily orifice. To Edith it looked absolutely horridly disgusting. She looked down at her hands, her palms and fingers still so full of energy. The darkness within her growled, unsatisfied. She gasped, trying to shove it off. It was becoming harder every single time. She had no idea how many she should kill to satisfy the urge for a body count her energy had.

Angel of Death was indeed a very fitting title for her.

Someone whipped her around and she froze, just enough that it would most likely have been her death had an adversary moved her. It was Livy, which was in some ways not a lot better. The vampire looked feral, ready to sink her fangs into Edith's neck and bleed her dry. Instead, she kissed the girl. In the field of gore the two embraced, happy to have survived once more. The moon looked over them, bathing both in silver light.

“Livy...” Edith said when they came apart. She was dizzyed by the vampire's kiss. As always.

“Let's go,” the vampire said, looking at Edith with hungry hungry eyes, a hunger which Edith knew could go either way, “Too much blood. Might give you a big bad nip if we don't go.”

* * *

Later, as they were resting, Livy licked the blood off off Edith's body. It did not seem to bother her that it was long ago spilled blood. She had to have it, she had told Edith as she had pushed the pale raven haired girl down on a bed. A bed now stained in the blood and small bloody bits of their adversaries.

“Is your wound bad?” Edith asked, gasping, as Livy casually ripped open her blouse and nuzzled between her breasts, licking at the blood which had seeped through Edith's clothes. Edith was finding it harder and harder to think. It was not the heat of the battle which had gotten her body eager for a more pleasurable exertion than fighting for your life, it was Livy herself.

>p>
A brown-haired head moved along Edith's body, licking and kissing, giving every bit of her such attention it was breath-taking.

“It was, ahh, silver...”

Livy was licking at Edith's neck, pressing her cool lips against her pulse, tortuously slowly licking the blood away, not missing even the teeniest drop.

“It hurts, ma chérie,” Livy admitted, murmuring against Edith's skin, making her gasp, “but I shall live, I'm sure.

Edith breathed in deep, feeling herself relax. Her magic was contained, the pale fingers which caressed Livy's head of abundant mahogany locks, not sizzling the vampire. Her body tingled in the wake of Livy's kisses and she hungered for more.

And Livy supplied.

Edith did have the fleeting thought that it all should have disturbed her more. She had killed. She had been soaked by the blood of those she had killed, who had tried to take her life. Yet here she was, after it was all over, a blood-soaked vampire laying over her, head buried between her eagerly spread thighs. But she did not care. Livy was an addiction she cared not discard. The vampire's kiss the best she had ever had.

Title: Forbidden
Day/Theme: 30. Do Not Enter Without Express Permission
Series: original post-apocalyptic vampire story
Character/Pairing: Edith, Livy
Rating: NC-17

When she had been a child, Edith had been forbidden to enter her mother's bedroom during the day. She had, of course, snuck in more than once, and had spent anxious moments by her mother's sleeping form. Her mother had looked dead.

It had scared Edith almost out of her wits at first. She had known that her mother was not like the mutter she had had when she had been smaller, yet to see her be such a way.

Years later, when her life had already changed in the space one horrid afternoon, Edith was once more watching someone not quite alive sleep. This time it was Livy. The vampire lay on her back over the bed they shared in their current lodgings. Edith usually spent the day time hours which she was awake running errands, trying to not get herself killed as she slunk about, gathering information.

They were at Crozon now, a small seaside town in Brittany, once a popular destination for travellers intent on doing little else than enjoy the ocean and lie on the beach, bronzing their skin. Edith had been there before a few times, in her second child-hood with her mother and Sybil. They had been happy times. Sybil, the later traitor, had watched and joined Edith in soaking in the ocean. Her mother had offered Edith tales of how people had used to come to the city, stay in the small hotels, now partially in ruins, and just spend their time. In the new post-Shift world Edith had no concept of tourism, of travel for leisure, as times had changed so drastically. She had also known that her mother had not really taken part in all of the things she told about. Aamu had been centuries older than any 'sea side tourism' she had talked about.

And now, she was ashes, never to answer any question which Edith might pose.

Edith sat there, on the edge of the squeaky bed, suddenly overcome by her grief. A year had passed. A whole year in which the only mother she had really known had been dead. Edith had always known that Aamu had not given birth to her, that there had been a woman who had been her mother in blood, her mutti. She scarcely remembered her now. Memories of her family were hazy, worn by time. She remembered her mother, father and siblings, but often, more as o late, names eluded her. The defining memory of her life was feeling alone and then seeing a beautiful woman come to her and pick her up.

Edith had thought her an angel.

Aamu had soon dispelled the idea. Edith could still remember now how she had been so intrigued by her new mother and her habits. She remembered asking, having been at the age when every question needed and answer and she was just making sense of the world. Many things had troubled her at the time. She remembered having missed sunlight, the daytime robbed of her as her mother had been taking care of her on her own. And, of course, being a vampire, Aamu never could go out in the day time. She did not eat either and was so different from all Edith had known, yet she had grown used to it, and her mother's strange life had become hers too and she had nigh forgotten there had ever been a different kind of life.

The first day she had seen Aamu sleep, she still remembered with crystal clarity. She had been very young and had woken to find her mother sleeping like the dead. She had known death then, being a survivor of the Grosse Feuer of Wien, having seen things which no child her age never ought to. Edith had been utterly panicked. She had remained wake for the rest of the day, clinging to Aamu, not knowing what to do. They had been in a different country by then and she had been so afraid of being alone again. She had remembered then, even when she had tried to suppress it with all her might, that day her mutti had died. Edith and mutti had been the only survivors of the great exploding fire which had consumed the city of Wien. But mutti had not lasted long. Then, as now, Edith had lain by her, holding onto her hand, crying herself hoarse as the hand in hers grew colder and colder. As she had lain next to Aamu, it had seemed even longer, even more horrible. But then Aamu had been awake, as the last rays of the sun kissed treetops outside. Mother had been awake and held Edith, consoling her daughter and explaining to her how she was not unlike any others. They had still slept together, mother giving her something bitter to drink every night. When Edith had grown, her mother had forbidden her to enter her bedroom, see her in the daytime death sleep. To spare her.

Edith hugged herself, her life had always been so strange, ever since she had met her mother. She looked down onto her lap, grimacing at the untidiness of her clothes, but there was no helping that. Her and Livy were just trying to survive, clean clothes and personal hygiene had little to do with that.

Soon, all too soon, even as she tried to stop herself, Edith's eyes strayed to Livy's unmoving face. She held the sheathed dagger in her hand so tight her knuckles were white. The brunette vampire was sleeping the sleep of the undead. A great trust had been placed upon Edith, allowing her to watch her sleep. They had shared so much already, yet there was an uneasiness which did not leave Edith, some days she wanted nothing more than to run. Run and never look back. The dagger was heavy in her hands. Her breathing was rapid as she watched the stillness of Livy's chest, encased in a black leather corset. One of her hands pressed between her legs, spread just the tiniest bit apart and she gasped. Livy woke too much different emotions in Edith.

The black haired Angel of Death, as she had been called ever since the wakening of her Fae blood, leaned over the unmoving vampire and swallowed.

She did something unthinkable, but not for the first time. She nicked a vein in Livy's hand, wondering how many times she could still do it before her lover would begin to take notice. Livy had not said anything, but it did not mean she did not know. Edith had shared her blood with Livy, so the vampire could or could not know. The young Fae had locked all the thoughts she had stolen, all that could implicate her, deep within her, but she was not sure. That Livy had not said anything... Edith brushed those thoughts away and looked on, dark eyes intent on her lover's form.

The vampire did not stir. She was sill as death, her magically animated body slack now, during the day. Edith watched the stillness of her lover's body for some moments, the blood oozing form the wound the only thing about Livy which moved. The wound was already knitting back up due to the vampire woman's regenerative abilities, her body both a wonder and an abhorrence, sometimes to Edith too.

Edith's breath was shallow as she stared at the blood, the crimson darkness of it against the vampire's pale slightly blue-tinted skin. The young woman shifted and pressed the heel of her hand closer, moving it back and forth, only a thin fabric between her hand and her sex. She was trying to divert herself from the inevitable. In the end, she could not resist. She needed it so badly. She put aside the knife and relieved the pressure of her hand, taking hold of Livy's hand. Pressing her lips to the nick she felt the first taste of the coppery blood meet her tongue, her mouth filling as she suckled. It was disgusting but at the same time very intimate. She knew that it was bad of her, that she ought not have given in... but. Then the reason came. Eyes closed, she saw Livy's past. It was jumbled images, really, thoughts she had no way to put in context. She felt the quilt of prying into another's private thoughts and memories as a fleeting emotion, she had lost so much of her morals already that this felt like a dip in the ocean.

Drinking Livy's blood, Edith sank deeper and deeper in her addiction and love for her.