manikax

[manikax]

omenportenti:

"I didn't know there was a name for it", he answers, too amused by it. His bottom lip feels ticklish and bouncy. Not because the joy of sexual acts in the car was frisky or exciting, but the tone in her voice. He wasn't certain how much was flirting, trying to elicit a response, or just the goddess doing what the goddess did. And he enjoyed that wonder. He enjoyed it alongside the feeling of her hand at his groin. "I don't think I have discussed my research with my cock in the other person's mouth", he thought about it. "It's not like I can't. Could even be inspiring." That tone, he relaxes more into it, accelerating the car more. It groaned at first, but never straining at his demands. Then, at it's proper cruising speed it purred. The engine hummed in thanks, the vehicle floating over the road. No more feedback from the road and thew wheels, just a clean motion going forward. "My thing? No," he said then looked over to her, hand falling into the belly of the steering wheel. At this speed the car needed less steering as he saw the road and the vehicles as clearly still, better as it operated at his own speed. He released her hand from from his and leaned in. "Not normal, not average, not simple", he said then wrapped her hair around his hand. "I like what I like because of how it makes me feel. I don't look any further than that." He tugged on her hair lightly to pull her closer to him and smiled, eyes clear on this thinking. "I like how your hair feels in my hand now", he says twirling his fingers around hair. "I like you", he said then looked back at the road for a moment. The car ahead him had slowed, then moved out of his way. "I like you", he says returning his gaze to her. "And I'm liking the idea of pulling you unto my lap and seeing just how good I can focus. These seats go back and I really want matching tongues," he pulled her in closer, tongue passing her lips before he kissed her again, more craving than the last. "And that skirt will look lovely bunched up at your waist. I can just see it in my head." Tempo builds over the speakers.

She can't help but laugh. "You're such a little shit. There's no way you've never heard of road-head before. I don't believe it."

She listens intently as he continues, attempting to determine how much of what he says is bullshit and how much is truth. The more she takes him in, the more she suspects he has no ulterior motives. With humans, everything has a motive behind it. It makes sense; humans have such limited time on this planet that they are determined to extract every last drop of juice from each situation. When you're immortal, motives become murkier.

So he's immortal, she adds to her mental checklist. Although she doesn't believe he's the same age as her. Not even close. His every word, his every move, is tainted by a blundering conviction that can only be derived from youth.

She's painting a picture of Kwon Su in her head, a pseudo-portrait of Dorian Gray, except neither would age. Pristine and perfect forever. She studies him with great interest.

Having been born into what Maja assumes is an uber-wealthy family, he was predestined to be a cocky little prince. And because he's never been told no, his ego grows unchecked. His unlimited access to academia serves two purposes: it keeps him occupied (Maja has no doubt that he is genuinely interested in those cultures of his) and cements his superiority over others. Devilishly handsome, wealthy, well-bred, well-educated. Check, check, check…

She flashes him a patient smile as he tugs on her hair. The vindictive part of her wants to say no to his request, reasoning that she had not gotten her way with the accommodation, so she would not indulge him further. She asked to go somewhere neither of them had been before, someplace wholly unfamiliar, but by the sounds of that phone call, they were headed to a property owned by his family.

She knows that's not fair, but that's precisely why it's fun. And, of course, there's the eternal allure of telling a man no. That always gets Maja off.

"Mmm, I think I'm okay over here," she says. "I'm really enjoying this seat warmer." This is true. Given that her own body is incapable of generating heat, she's always clung to external heat sources like a lizard. It is not a biological need; she does not need the heat to survive, but it feels nice. Perhaps it's for this reason that she's not quick to kick werewolf lovers out of her bed when the morning comes. Out of all the supernatural creatures she's slept with, they were the warmest, most vivacious. But maybe that's her bias showing. Like some slutty version of Pichnoccio, Maja has always wanted to be a 'real girl.' Alive. And she's always associated heat with life.

And Su is not alive. Certainly not. He, like her, is cold and smooth as porcelain.

Pushing against the seatbelt, she tucks her boot-clad feet beneath her bum. The hand at his groin caresses him in a steady rhythm. She watches his face, gauging his reaction to her denial. Will he pout? Will he get mean?

She kisses the corner of his lips. He does have some nice lips, she thinks, and he knows how to use them. Seldom does she want to spend the majority of a hook-up making out, but with Su, she has the sudden urge to kiss him until her own lips lose all feeling. "You just keep on driving," she says in a placating purr. Her hand slyly undoes the button of his trousers, dragging down the zipper in one fluid motion. "And let me do my thing."

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

Long drive Could end in burning flames or paradise...

/

He can't keep his wild eyes on the road...

@omenportenti

#im srry but this song is so majasu coded #maja’s playlist

[manikax]

AU MAJAS

love goddess maja / cyber pop star maja / agejo gyaru maja / revenge queen maja

#au maja #i say au but there’s a viable chance of all of these happening in universe

[manikax]

omenportenti:

The laughter that's building inside him threatens to come through his very pores, or flush out of his nose. He wants to pull over and kick his feet, let that feeling run over him. Of course she is wrong. He is reminded he owes a sister an email. He is also reminded of the temperature of water in the sun, plus its reflecting capability of those pesky UV rays. No he was no fish, but they said you were what you ate. Right. He's grinning at the road, but he enjoys the wrongness of the statement repeated at him. This act was fun and he was certain they shared that experience. His cultures, came to mind. There were several hours to wait for the analysis to complete, several hours in the double digits, still. He could make it back in time, and if not he would have a staff member remove them. That made his face scrunch. He would need to be back before the alarm went off. Fine, he could do that. That's why the car was fast. "I have some analysis to do, but their cooking", he answers, face still scrunched, eyes narrowing, lips protruding. "The endless tasks of scholarship", he added but planned his time in his head. He would make it back with an hour to spare, if he timed it right. Across the bridge he turned right, merging unto the highway, going north. "Ok, I'm thinking of where we can stay for the night and how far away is best." For science. Suraksan, he decides. There is a house nestled into the forest that would serve best. He can't remember the last time he was there, he realizes, nor the address. "Two hours away, with a pretty cool view of the city", he says knowing that timing is fully because he will be speeding. He taps the dialer in the steering wheel, "Park Yeong-sik", he says taking her hand in his own. He clasps his hand around hers, fingers entwined, fingertips passing over her skin. "Hyung, the Suraksan house, Jangnam?" he asks unsure of the neighborhood. The male on the other line is typing. "It is technically Jangnam, yes. How far are you?" "About 2 hours, maybe hour and a half", he answered. "Understood. I'll take care of it. And do try to drive more safely, perhaps within the speed limit." Souk laughed and disconnected the call. He clicked the pin and set the car to direct there, then looked over at Maya. "You know", he began, raising her hand , amused at the difference in size. "I thought you were gonna distract me while I drove. Ignore the voice on the phone, cars are to go as fast as you can imagine. And multitasking is a skill I have conquered. I have the badge to prove it."

Maja goes on watching him, listening as he makes the call. She was hoping they could go somewhere more pedestrian, like a motel or bed and breakfast, but she can live with this.

The more time she spends time with Su, the more she believes he has never known a life without wealth. She suspects he has been pampered and spoiled since birth. It's a characteristic that one cannot hide, no matter how hard they try. No matter what disguise they try to mask it with. It always seeps out of them one way or another.

"Well," she says, "I still have two hours." The hand that is not entangled in his own discovers his upper thigh. "Or one-and-a-half." She starts palming him through his trousers. “A badge, huh? Isn’t that special?”

While she's teasing him, she's smiling politely. Kindly. "Are you the type of guy who likes roadhead? And then, when my mouth's full of your cock, you'll tell me all about those cultures that are fermenting in your lab. Is that your thing?" She takes in a slow deep breath, feeling her simulation lungs fill with air, and then sighing it out contentedly.

"Do you want me to tell you how much of a special boy you are?" She continues. Her tone is not at all disparaging or cruel. She's truly curious. "Or do you get that all day long, and what you really want is for someone to lay you out and make you feel normal?" If her hands weren't occupied, she would have put air quotes around normal, but her tone does the heavy lifting. 

#i: souk #t: twice and counting #nsfw

[manikax]

omenportenti:

Public transportation was a hub of smells, so thick you could taste it in the air. Most of his kin would never be caught traveling aside the masses, but Su did enjoy the sensory overload. It was also a good way to hone the nose. Even so, he preferred his own vehicle or being driven, he got more done that way. He nods at her answer. "Look at that. It's my favourite colour", he said before looking back to the road. Her mouth at his neck, tempts him to look away, give her his focus. Fuck that car right off. He wouldn't die, and car crashes can't kill goddesses either. "Imagine, tasting the flavours on our tongues as the car flips twice." A low laugh vibrates through his throat. "We could survive though, you, me, and the car", he suggested then merged the vehicle, accelerating unto the bridge. "As for how distracted would I need to be", he looked over at her while he drove ahead, far too long to be considered actively paying attention to traffic, but he was no traffic cop, couldn't be certain. He could hear the other cars, muffled as they were through his own car's sealed windows, he could still hear them. The vibration they made over the bridge's surface allowed him to place them. Three sedans in front of him, the second slowing, now the third. He followed suit, slowing the vehicle. Behind him, an SUV was speeding, a truck coming in hot right behind. He was getting closer to the second sedan but his eyes stayed on her. "Try me, I can swim. I love the water. I am damn near part fish", he stated with brief chuckle. Finally his eyes returned to the cars ahead, vehicle coming to a stop. He knew whatever was backing up the traffic would get moving in a few minutes. There was rarely this much traffic on this bridge, not at this hour. He turns back to her, hand leaning over to her jaw, "What does the ube taste like on you? With how Maya already tastes?" he asked easing closer. "It's probably a bit sweeter", he reasons leaning more. His lips connect with her own, hand tipping her chin up. His kiss is like him, not withheld, curious and playful. He pulls her tongue into his mouth, tasting of it, sucking on it before freeing it for her bottom lip, nipping at its plumpness before easing back. There is honking behind him. The traffic he knew would clear did just that. He looks back to the road and moves the vehicle forward, sticking out his tongue. "No purple yet. Gotta try a little harder."

"Part fish," she repeats, eyes blazing as they stare into his own. "Is that what you are?"

Even when his gaze goes back to the road, she does not look away. She savors his profile, noticing the slight contraction of his jaw muscles with a thrill of lust in the pit of her belly. His gaze returns soon after, and his lips meet hers. It's a good kiss, full of curiosity and fun, punctuated by his teeth on her bottom lip.

"Let's get out of the city," she recommends, dragging a manicured finger up and down his arm. "Do you have plans for tonight? I'd like to spend some time alone with you. In a place neither of us has ever been."

While this suggestion is undoubtedly laden with a desire for sex, there is more to it than that. Even within their facade, there is too much expectation and familiarity in Seoul, a world where everyone has their own ideas about who they are and what they should be. Maja doesn't mind these connections, having invested much of her time in cultivating them, but she wants to get away. She wants to remind herself who she can be when no one is watching.

Well, not no one.

“Let’s run away together,” she says. Her finger draws girlish hearts and stars on his forearm. “Just for the evening.”

She'd earlier considered bringing him back to her place, but it felt wrong. Inappropriate. Her house is a sacred place, a collection of all the lives she's lived. She's proud of it, and she adores her space. But with Su, she wants to create something new and uncharted. Unearth a bit of treasure that's yet to be excavated.

Even as the car lurches and shifts and honks can be heard outside, she never pulls her gaze from him. "What do you say?"

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

Ko aka Koala for her song Taurus

#aesthetic

[manikax]

omenportenti:

A slight warning raises as he helps Maja back into the passenger seat. A wave of concern, like a gentle tide at 3 am. How much of himself is obvious? The shifting glory of the chariot catches his eyes as he walks around to the driver's seat. The car alone was an arrow at him. Actually, a collection of agencies, pseudonyms, dummy corporations, actual false corporations, and an army of very trigger happy guards protecting the very idea of him. Still, he alone had that color in the entire region, he thought. Probably. The price of having such creativeness, you could be found by it. Possessing a following like she did - nope. He stuffed a the filled spoon into his mouth and got in the car. He would not let his mind wonder there and think too hard. The car started and he thought of his cultures looking at the time. Still way too much time. He set his bowl on his thigh and eased over to secure her seatbelt before his own, bowl in his palm, before returning to his lap. "A nice drive while you eat is good. Then a stretch after and I can take you home or for chicken ,if it's a thought after. I may be full after this, I don't really know", he said then took another spoon of the ice cream. There was a lot more caramel on the spoon this time. The saturated sweetness made him groan in happiness. It hit the spot. "You don't have to share", he laughs. He enjoyed that honest turn against deemed expectedness. Society said you played nice and shared for the cuteness or whatever. Made you seem selfless and more appealing. But this was not some date hunting approval and selection. "I will tell Amahle you enjoyed it", he said before taking a piece of the bowl to his own mouth. The bowl is set on his lap as he backs out of the spot and turning off the road. He crunches the chocolate enjoying the bits of ice cream that lingered on it. "I can share but it is harder if I really don't want to", he answered clearly. "Really I just don't like doing things outside of my own wants then. It's irritating but I can, if i must. I would share my ice cream with you but, you're well happy with you're own, and I'd hate to ruin the flavor profile." He tapped on the steering wheel with his left and scooped some ice cream with his right. "I can be inspired to see things differently. I love meeting a different perspective and going with it. It's always very fun", he said and looked over at her. It was what drew her to him. That mind. He wanted inside, wanted to experience more of it. What she was, who she was, none of it mattered. The light changed and he turned left, bridge signals on the signs. He merged left and slowed watching the vehicle ahead. "Do you drive Mayari? Or, is passenger goddess more your style", he slowed at the light and leaned over to look at her closer. Her and her Ube. Would it stain her tongue he wondered. Would it make him taste different to her? He smiled in the thought. "Now I really want a taste", he worded swimming in that thought.

Maja simply nods at his comment about being full. She has no hunger cues. She can’t feel full. In theory, she could eat and eat and eat until her fake little intestines burst like a pipe. She's never thought to try it, as it sounds like a lot of clean-up, but maybe it's an activity she can save for a rainy day.

"I think that's everybody," she says with a little laugh. "I mean, who likes doing things they don't want to do? That's why we even have words like noble and selfless and generous. If being kind was easy and always something we wanted to do, it wouldn't mean anything." She pauses to take multiple bites of her ice cream, pausing longer still to let it melt on her tongue before swallowing. "Things mean something when they're difficult.”

When he asks her about driving, she's nearly finished with her treat. She takes the final few bites before replying. "If you're asking if I can drive, the answer is yes. But I haven't owned a car since I moved to Korea. I like public transportation. I actually don't mind being cramped in a tight space with a bunch of people. I think it's kind of fun. I like people watching, and I like watching the people that are watching me."

And with that, she grins as she feels his eyes on her. She wedges her now empty ice cream cup into one of the holders and turns her body towards him, pushing against the strain of the seatbelt. She sticks out her tongue at him. It's stained purple.

When the light changes, she leans over the center console and kisses his neck, finding a spot she likes and sucking at the pale flesh. She stops for a moment, glancing up at him through her lashes. “How distracted would you have to be to crash?” She asks. “Could you imagine? Being scraped up off the pavement? All the glass and metal around us sparkling like stars…”

She kisses his earlobe and then takes it between her teeth, rolling it slightly. “But then again,” she stops, pulls back just enough that she can look at his face, “This is such a nice car. It would be a shame to ruin it.”

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

omenportenti​:

Mixing together a creation for Mayari, Amahle seeks to highlight the Ube’s flavors with linked tastes of the region. Coconut, mango, and lime, are used in various forms, syrups, shavings and nectar. He leaves the ube the star within the vanilla waffle bowl, that would not over power the flavour. Completely, he walks around the counter and hands it to Mayari, Su behind him.

She’s small he notes, and there is no scent around her. But there is an aura. Not quite a vampires but similar in taste to a necromancer’s after dealing their work. Somewhere in between was this Mayari. He looks back to Su and his grinning face, licking something off his mouth. Caramel. The big kid. Amahle looks back to Mayari and wonders more. She lives between life and death in a way he had not seen in years. It’s unsettling but yet he feels pulled to her. He wonders if has the same effect on Su. That would be very bad, he thinks at first.

“Was it you who made him this pretty?” Amahle asks of the work on his eyelids. He ignores Su’s claim he is now prettier and the wagging of his spoon.

He felt no ill intent off of her, but that aura around her could make his read wrong. There was old magic around her, old and powerful work. She would not be the first practitioner to covet a vampire’s link to a well of power. He looked at the missing portion of Su’s bowl and shook his head. “Don’t let him spoil you with his horrible eating habits,” Amahle says walking back around the counter.

Su turns and looks at him for a moment, the seriousness in his gaze is there for a brief moment, a blink in time. The old shifter sighs and begins cleaning his workspace. Perhaps it was he who wanted her. Perhaps he should worry about this Mayari. A young vampire at play. Amahle knew Su’s interests were very dark, dangerous, and rarely any good for anyone but him if the worst of him was shown. It was something about their kind, not his species, oh no. His kind in particular, that line of old blood. Their ease in removing whatever did not suit them came too easy, their way of going from passing for normal to beast is what kept their name passing from lip to lip. Young as he was, Amahle knew it was there, buried in his puppy-like smile and welcoming eyes, a predator.

Maybe he should mind his business and enjoy the beauty of another at that.

“Where is the next stop, the aquarium?” Amahle asks. Su laughs and shakes his head, hair moving with him. 

“Just a drive”, he answers, “Maybe fried chicken.”

“Don’t want to show her your obsession so early?” the old shifter teases.

“It’s work”, he corrects, then glances at his phone for the times of his cultures and their ongoing analysis. “It’s research, and I left all that at the lab. Can’t have my brain exploding from overthinking.”

Amahle nods and makes his way to the register. Su hands him the card and looks at the male who words his lingering question. ‘What is she?’

The younger shrugs and takes back his card, returning it to his pocket and then walking to Mayari. “I’m in Apgujeong”, he begins, leaning on the door to open it for her. He thanks Amahle and waves before walking behind her out the door. “North to Hannam? Yeah, I think that should be fine. Do you wind down after days with your worshippers like today?” he asked walking back to the car. “Take a bath, read a book, close the windows? Or am I helping provide the wind-down?” That idea made him smile a bit more. He wasn’t completely sure why. 

"Yes," nods Maja. "Do you like it? I think he looks beautiful in glitter." As she says this, she returns her gaze to Su, admiring her work and the handsome face it complements. The purple glitter sparkles under the shop lights, emphasizing the richness of his dark coffee eyes. 

Lovely as Su is, her attention is pulled almost immediately to the ice cream in her hands, a work of art in and of itself. She is blown away by Amahle's creation. The shaved coconut is like a delicate bed of snow resting atop a purple mountain of ube majesty. She imagines a tiny graham cracker cottage built on the mountain's peak, complete with a gingerbread version of herself draped in a coat of mango and lime. When the ice cream melts, she'll discard her fruity outerwear and bathe in the ube sea.

Work. The aquarium. His lab. She knows Su is a university student (assuming he is not lying about that); Is he majoring in marine biology? She is dying to get home to her beloved computer and scour the Internet for any and all knowledge regarding Kwon Su. She knows she'd be able to find it relatively quickly, given her expertise in Internet stalking, but doing so feels like breaking the unspoken rules of their game.

She climbs into the passenger seat of Su's car. Once again, she thinks he must be extremely wealthy. This is a gorgeous car, and he doesn't seem to mind if they eat in it; he isn’t the least bit concerned that she'll make a mess. But what is a stain to a moneyed man? He can either pay someone to clean it or simply buy a new car.

The doll smiles at his assumptions. He's wrong, but she realizes he's not aiming for accuracy. "Are you offering?" She teases, confident she already knows the answer. If his charitable display at the art gallery is any clue, he is perfectly content to give without receiving. Even so, she's curious about the sounds he might make when he’s the one on the receiving end, and what might lie beneath those well-tailored trousers.

She sinks her spoon into the ice cream, taking care to get a mix of every ingredient. When she brings it to her lips, her tongue bursts with flavor, both new and nostalgic. "Wow. Fuck me, that's incredible.” She takes another bite. And then another. “I would offer you some, but I don't want to share." She relaxes against the seat, putting herself at ease while devouring her ice cream. "Do you like to share, Su?" She asks. "Or do you prefer keeping things all to yourself?"

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

omenportenti​:

He watches Amahle take in Mayari. The old shifter had been around supernaturals too long to not know their feel. Souk watched his eyes, though he smiled, talking of ingredients with her, he was trying to read her. His eyes raised back to the young vampire and he smiled, reading his own expression. He didn’t know what she was either.

Yet there they were, three non-humans playing at human. 

Life was really for enjoyment.

“Home”, he says and immediately sees his parents in their coffins. He takes a slow breath, tips back to show his thinking, blinks back the image, the very taste in his mouth. “There is an old knitted blanket, it was woven for my father. I liked the feel of it as a kid and he let me keep it.”

“Or you borrowed it like my sweater”, Amahle buts in, in English.

Souk chuckles and continues, “Either way. It feels like home, smells like home. And I have great naps under it.”

Amahle narrows his eyes at the vampire who just laughs more at his gaze. “Oh, look how forgetful I am. Amahle, this is Mayari”, he says pointing to her with wiggling fingers. “Mayari, this is Amahle”, he says then leans against the glass.

He wonders on her connection to Ube and what it means for her life for a second, then lets it fade. The Goddess Mayari, and her particular features. Nope. He would not dig into her. He would not use her words as clues to paint the fullness of her life. 

Amahle greets Mayari with a smile and a nod before returning to the smashing of ingredients together to make Su’s order. “Have I had the ube? I know I wasn’t a fan of the custard apple or sour-sop”, he mumbles Amahle tosses a scoop at his head. It happens fast, he barely manages to grab it before it connects with his skull yet it still falls from his hand. “No touch the glass with your hands, I tell you every time. Your big brain is for nothing but show.”

Souk grins and walks around the counter to wash the spoon and set it down on the side. “I’m getting that friend discount right?” The older shifter clicks his tongue against his teeth. “That's a no”, Souk says and walks around the counter. Amahle finishes his order then begins scooping up the Ube flavor, then shaving some coconut.

She smiles at Amahle and Su’s exchange. The casual teasing suggests closeness, one that rang of brotherly love and good-natured ribbing. The depth of their relationship intrigues her, but not so much that she would ask about it. She and Su seem to be in silent agreement on this point, one that came about that night at the art gallery: Don't ask the obvious questions.

While others went on ice cream dates to get to know each other better, Mayari and Su's have different goals. She isn't sure what these goals are but supposes that this could be a goal in and of itself: dive into their odd connection and see what comes out of it. Nothing more, nothing less.  

"Oh, I see," Maja remarks, mostly to herself. She then casts her gaze over the counter at Amahle. “So his borrowing is a chronic condition, then?”

Her only reaction when the ice cream scooper shoots across the air is to widen her eyes. Su's demonstration of his excellent reflexes is another piece of proof that he is supernatural, but it doesn't tell her what he is. She suspects he is aware of her inhumanity as well but is being polite by not bringing it up. Perhaps it isn’t politeness. More than likely, it's a part of the strange game they're playing. A game that, as far as she can tell, has no clear ending and no known way to win. 

She watches Amahle work (making a concerted effort to not lean on the glass), inhaling the sweet aroma of ice cream and freshly pressed waffle cones. “It smells heavenly,” she tells the confectioner. “I’d bottle it up and wear it as a perfume if I could.”

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

Givenchy Haute Couture Fall/Winter 1997-1998 Designed By: Alexander McQueen

#aesthetic

[manikax]

omenportenti​:

He smiles, his mind was indeed unusual. He appreciated the compliment, answering it with a proud smile. She too had an unusual brain. He felt the same, enjoyed a left from norm. It probable drew him to people, their not so normalness. Because how fucking boring was normal.

"You’re not wrong. A hat, mask and big shades really just says look at me. I find a lot of recovering surgery patients in that get up in my neighborhood. Getting their walk in for fresh air in the wee hour of the morning. But I know they think it makes them invisible so I play pretend with them”, he says steering the car away from annoyingly slow Kia. “But maybe thats the point. You see the big shades and that says leave me alone, you don’t see me, so your eyes avoid the get up.”, he says slowing at the red light.

Somewhere, somewhere there is an attendant itching, scratching and feeling dread. Probably at the fucking fortress of a home where the living are dead and the dead lay sleeping. Funny enough, there was an actual fortress, atop a hill, looking over the sea. It’s entrance seemed impractical, the deep forests impenetrable. There generations of the old bloodline came squawking into the world, except Souk. He was second of his generation to be born at that new Estate. In those halls an attendant was falling over at the idea of a little prince being manservant to another.

It stretched his grin from ear to ear. Even if he posed it, hearing it back was just too funny, too fictional, an absurdity. Next he would be in their little suits and pockets full of tricks. Wiping blood with hankerchiefs unlimited.

“It could be”, he answers. “I’ll only know when I try. As for the chariot, an idiot would try stealing something this custom. I would enjoy that chase”, he smiled then turned right, vehicle then pulling up in front off the small artisan shoppe. The vehicle comes over some on the sidewalk, leaving enough room for vehicles to pass behind.

He turns off the engine. “We will go in together. I know the owner. No gawking at your goddess glory, promise”, he eases from the car, making quick strides to get to the passenger side. The door opens and he extends his hand to help her out. These motions come second nature to him, without a thought. Not a way to flatter, not an act to seem better in another’s eyes, just built into the framework of his character.

The door opens and he lets her walk in ahead of him, following in and ringing the bell to get attention. Out of a door built into the wall, a medium built man emerges, white attire and aprom a contrast on his dark skin. He greets the two in Korean then takes a second look at Souk, a grin emerging lifting his face before the greeting in Xhosa and a nickname, the little trickster, the clicks ever sounding musical to the vampires ears.

Souk repeats the greeting in the owner’s tongue, adding a small bow, respect given to the elder, even if he didn’t look it. “You already know what I want, Amahle”, he says then looks to Mayari,  "I’ve been here a few times in the past month", he explains.

Amahle looks to the petite woman, humming as he thinks. “Not strawberry huh?” he asks then looks back to Souk with a questioning look that vanishes soon enough. “Look around, you can sample anything and mix in any side you like,” he says before washing his hands then donning gloves. Souk walks to the counter and looks at the selection. Custom created and homemade flavors, sourced all over the world.  " Can I have the dark chocolate waffle cone pieces crushed with caramel?“, he asks then looks over to Mayari with a smile. "I can’t explain the sweet tooth. Maybe I’m growing.”

Amahle scoffs but then smiles as he prepares to create the order he knows too well.



She takes his hand and follows him inside. Observing in silence his exchange with the employees, she finds herself once again theorizing about his background. All of this is highly unusual for a university student, even a wealthy one such as Su. So, she thinks, he has money money. That’s a given, what with the nonchalance at which he purchased those paintings at the gallery, his luxury clothing, the custom car. 

When he tells her that he’s been here a few times, she simply nods. Given the familiarity with which the owner greets him, she presumes he’s being modest. Not strawberry, huh. A brow shoots up at this, but she lets it slide without comment. 

“Mmm, yes,” says Maja, “A growing boy.” She has no idea how old he is. Of course, she could guess based on context clues, but that wouldn’t be very reliable. Not when she's reasonably sure he’s supernatural and thus could very well be centuries old.

She gazes down at the wide selection of ice creams, many of which are a rainbow of vibrant colors, boasting unique flavors: jackfruit and chili nut, ginger pineapple, soy sauce butterscotch, pistachio rose, matcha and dark chocolate, coffee and ube. 

“I love ube,” she declares, “It has such a beautiful color.” In fact, it was this very yam that inspired one of the matte shades in her makeup palette. The first food she can remember falling in love with was the ube halaya made by the elderly Lola in Manila who formally taught her how to read and write. She had made the pudding for Maja to celebrate her quick academic progress. “It makes me think of home.” 

She gazes up at him. “What makes you think of home, Kwon Su?” 

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

omenportenti​:

He grins wide, tempted to mention he has copies. He doesn’t. He lets the idea sit there between them, sparkling on his teeth like an illuminated sign. They most certainly exist. He wasn’t exactly shy about sex nor his body. He had no qualms in indulging in anyway that pleased him. Gender meant nothing, just attraction and desire. He couldn’t live any other way.

Chair not wide enough, he tells himself as she stands. Yea, not enough to hold her thighs and bring her down between his. Can’t angle her for - well no, maybe. He thinks again. But one time in a chair isn’t exactly his wants for the night, neither is getting looks from staff after. How is he suppose to enjoy those small muscle reactions while concerned for who might hear or come barging in. Plus, he can’t just snap their necks after either.

I mean, he can. But he can’t.

He nods and raises a brow when she eases him from the chair. He wasn’t whole in mass to accurately represent his output of strength. Vampirism. A human male at 300 kg couldn’t lift him, if he sat in his density, pushed his strength down to amplify his weight. Kwon Su had no need for that around Mayari. But a tiny being like her should not be able to pull him that easily. But she was goddess, it made sense. Of course. 

In the alley, the sun has descended away from threatening his fun. He takes her hand and moves down the alley, away from the store, two streets down then a left. There could be fans lurking and hoping she would come out the back. It logical in a stalker notice me unnie way. Two more streets down he saw the custom wrap of his car and pressed the unlock button from in his pocket. Two teens were pointing at it from the store across the street. Yes, yes, she was pretty.

He opens the passenger side and leads her into the seat, standing in the way as she gets in. That skirt was rising up and he didn’t think an upskirt was her idea of handling a scandal. Around the vehicle he took note of the address while the teens looked away from his gaze. He grinned, lucky.  The gift bag he sets in the backseat, certain it was his. 

Inside he started the car, a reggae song began playing. He turned it down a bit after easing over and securing her seatbelt. 

He wonders about those two kids for a moment. Kids and their fucking phones. Would his car end up on the internet again, probably. Added with the celeb next to him, whoopsies. What about the fame did she enjoy anyway, he wondered for a moment. He thought of asking as he eases from the parking space. He doesn’t care why she chose it, but he does believe she did. He didn’t think it just happened by chance. He wonders what such visibility feels like. “Did I mention this look on you is very”, he thinks of the right word to describe how it makes him feel, voice trailing off into a deep groan in his throat. He decides not mentioning his imagination is the way to. So he smiles, head cocking to the side to catch the bit of leather at her chest. “Leather”, he speaks. “A leather and metal frame”. 

He wondered if that same draw that elevated her above the mortals was at work with him. No. He liked her cause she thought traveling across the globe for dick made sense. He liked how while he could disagree with her, how she expressed things made him really stop and think about it, even agree. The otherness about Mayari was surface and sedimented all at the same time, drawing in and warning.

“Waffle bowl, chocolate with caramel” he says stopping at a red light and looking at her. The order just appeared at the front of his mind and he knew the little eater where could get it. “Am i stripping and giving you my hoodie or am I going full manservant and retrieving the items for my goddess?”

She notes how he opens the door for her and clicks in her seatbelt with delighted amusement. The cynical part of her dismisses these actions as mere window dressing to entice women (and men, she assumes) into his bed. Even if this is true, she enjoys the effort made at her expense. 

At his compliment (well, the beginning of one), she smiles widely and turns her whole body toward the driver's seat. "It's very..." she echoes the way he trails off. She looks down at her outfit as he utters the word leather. She had been going for dominatrix Barbie when she dressed that morning. 

She leans over the center console to poke his temple when the conversation abruptly shifts to ice cream. "You have an unusual brain. I like that in a person." She traces the shell of his ear with the tip of a pink-pointed nail. "You know, I've always thought that the people who wear hoods, baseball caps, and big sunglasses to conceal their identities make themselves more conspicuous." She reclines back in the plush passenger seat, legs crossed. "As much as I enjoy the idea of you stripping, someone needs to watch this horse-powered chariot." 

Her smile deepens as he says, 'For my goddess.' Jeez, he was such a ham. He really was laying it on thick. It was transparent but somehow still romantic. Her gaze narrows in on his devilishly handsome face. It was then that she realized that, while his features were pretty, his true appeal lay in how he carried himself. 

"And I don't see you as a manservant, for the record," she says, then briefly pauses and adds: "Unless that sort of thing turns you on." Her tone isn't exactly that of a sexy come-on but rather a genuine inquiry. 

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

Maja 2.0

#aesthetic #lookbook #rebirth

[manikax]

ilnerium​:

It seems, quietly, floating in the air unseesn, that this might be the last time she sees Maja. Like a whisper its there, a sad final meeting. Tragic from its inception. How doomed. 

Fate was a wonder indeed. 

If it was all plan, and predestined, then perhaps her role was complete. Perhaps her time knowing the woman had come to its end. They met, and moved on. Such was the string of encounters given to an immortal. 

The thought simmered within, sat in the heat of the moment. Would she spend days sullen, low and pained like the last time she parted with the doll? She remembered the journey south, hiding her sadness from her father, staying within her coffin below deck, coming up only to feed and discuss when called. Unable to act and understanding that fact, yet saddened in that inability. A pitiful state unsuited for her emperor father. At the battlefield she gave no mercy, collected heads to burn and shred, making use of the raw feeling, venting till she could feel no more. Perhaps she thought she could rush back and - no.  She sighed and let the memory subside. There would be none of that. There could be none of that.

Yet the thought would ruin the intoxication so rarely met. How to be right at the fullness of promise to then walk away, conclude fate had spun then together for their time and now it was over. The vampire leaned against the edge of the table and watched the doll ascend the steps up and out the door. She sighed, closing her eyes then looking at the ruined manicure again. How unfortunate. 

Her eyes open to see her progeny bowed before her, Dana in front. Soa sighed again, Dan’s eyes rising to meet hers. “I suppose you will call for him. Especially with what you’ve been drinking.”

Soa’s smile returned. Their little rivalry was cute. Knives sharpening knives. She came and stood at her side, arm looping around her in an embrace. Even without that link, she must have known. Her ever sweet Dana.

“Will I be taking you home or will he be dropped from the sky from some stupid pet?” She rolled her eyes. There was something else she wanted to offer but knew it wasn’t the proper time. They’re relationship was not like Soa’s and her first. She knew that. There’s had transcended just sire and progeny into a love only they knew its bounds. 

Sioa giggled. “Let us return home. All of us. To the Estate. Call your brothers home”, Soa took her hand then caressed the face of her fourth before walking towards the door. Umbrellas open above her as she is led to the car. The door opens and she steps within, Dana walking around and getting in, her other progeny and guards filling the guards behind. The window taps, then the door opens on Dana’s side. Another goblet and another decanter of blood. A gift from the proprietor. She sends her thanks and the column of vehicles move through the rain. 

Fate and its reaches drift in and out of her mind as she drinks. A wonder of chance of choice. She scoffed, looking out into the dark road. Fate could only be fate so long as she let it. She was fucking Guan Soa and she hated being told what to do. 

#i: soa #t: she moves in mysterious ways #fin

[manikax]

omenportenti​:

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Two meetings but he thought she knew why. Their tone and sport was the same. Going with the flow. She was invited,  only if she wanted to be.

It wasn’t like they weren’t picking up truths in their play. He was not oblivious that she was in fact not Mayari, nor goddess. And with her face, and the kind of online presence it would take to get a giant billboard and such an event, it would take no time to find the real being behind the goddess persona. 

But that was so fucking exhausting.

What was the need? He had no need of her identity. And he really wasn’t hiding his own identity. He was in actuality Kwon Su and could produce the drivers license that proved it. 

“Takes confidence to go after a goddess”, he gave, smiling as he twirled her fingers around his fingers. “Who else would I believe in if not me”, he stated wrapping the hair around his hand, hand tightening for a moment. He almost tugged on it. Couldn’t help it, the length was too damn inspiring. 

“I think it would be a fun thing to check off but I don’t think it ever stops. I can be adducting. I’ll give em cavities digging around about me. And then the cum shot videos”, he shook his head. “Those should probably be special, would be a shame to ruin the enjoyment.”

He leans forward, tugging on her hair slightly to bring her to his eyeline. “You’re saying if I walk out of here, one hand in your hair, I’ll end up all over the internet?” He makes a face like he’s considering it. The thought of testing Guan Groups scrubbing capabilities passes his mind and he almost hops up, readying to go. But he would end up with more than a broken arm if he did. 

But how could they prove it wasn’t an accident? There weren’t any waiting stalkers with cameras outside when he came. He could have just been young and dumb. Whoopsies, yeah, whoopsies.

“Now I have to wonder what my last post on insta was”, he groaned in thought, then lowered his head to her shoulder. With a realization, he popped back up. “So that’s a yes to the carriage ride then? Ice cream, night stroll, goddess delivered home by dawn?” He smiled, pushing out his lips slightly. 

"If you bring up this cum shot video one more time," Maja says, "I'm going to take it as a hint that you want me to see it." Maja has received her fair share of pornographic media from men. Most of it unwelcome and uninspired. She'd always been of the mind that if you're going to take nudes, you should at least attempt to add a smidgeon of artistry. If another misguided man sent her a dimly lit, low-angled, grainy shot of his dick, she would rip his head off. Both of his heads. She prayed for Su's sake that his nudes were far more refined.

"That's a yes," she confirms with a smile of her own. She gets up from Su's lap and thinks for a minute about how they'll get out of there without being seen. They were both individuals for who being seen was a given. Maja's supernatural allure enabled her to book steady work as a model in the 1950s and 1960s. And while, yes, she was lovely and highly symmetrical (another credit to the skill of her maker), she had an unmistakable and indefinable edge that captured people’s attention. A peculiar "je ne sais quoi." Maja's combination of precious doll features and odd, inhuman aura captivated and unsettled people to the point where they often couldn't look away.

It was both a curse and a blessing. Something Maja had never been able to switch off, despite her best efforts. Maja was constantly reminded of that Marilyn Monroe anecdote in which the character of Marilyn was something Norma Jean could turn on and off. She'd always envied this ability.

Maja, Manika, Mayari... all of these identities, and not one could walk her out of this cosmetics store without calling undo attention to herself. 

"Out the back," she declares. "Come on." Even though she'd completed all of her obligations for the day and could leave whenever she wanted, their escape had an air of deception to it. She grabs Kwon Su's hand and pulls him up from the chair with no struggle. It amused her that she was both hiding and not, a strategy she'd employed for the past two decades. She didn't have to work hard to hide her supernatural abilities; those who knew would figure it out regardless, and those who didn't would invariably jump through whatever mental hoops were required to explain away the anomalies. Making excuses was easier than admitting their worldview was imperfect or, worse, outright wrong.

“Let’s be quick about this.” She grabs her purse from the table and leads him out the backdoor, releasing them into the alley.

#i: souk #t: twice and counting

[manikax]

adriana marmorek wedding gown series

#aesthetic #i am no mother i am no bride i am king

[manikax]

ilnerium​:

A rent gown and splatter. A shame. Soa wonders if anything had really changed. Can she really call it a change? Or had she just woken up. This after all was inevitability, a future she had long known would come to be. 

Subjective, she says. The feeling of her words irritates, gnashes against her, a future unwanted to taking shape, flickering in and merging lanes into the present. “If agreement cannot be met”, she says, emotions far from her features. “It is how I knew your stunt was not meant to harm, a game for she who loves games. You had no malice in your heart, that I know. And it was why no punishment expected could have been given. You have never been some subject of mine to be forced back into line. You have only ever been Maja, she who I do not know, yet am curious of.” 

Soa’s hand’s clasp together, the claw of a warrior and manicured hand with perfect nails. They relaxed against her abdomen. She could feel the spin that was her emotions within her slow. They were settling, falling back into their perfectly organized places. All was returning to where it should be, no wondering of the many moving parts tossed aside by thought of being hated monster in her eyes. Guan Soa was still Guan Soa. She had control over herself. 

And even in that, there was Maja, the doll, the question, the could have been canvas.

Apart of the vampire smiled, deep within, as she relaxed. She did love a good surprise and this look on her face was that, even if the small wish of the future she wanted for her was evaporating before her. She hummed out an exhale, letting it go, the foolish wish of a younger vampire. She would have no wish over the doll any longer, no hopes. She was not her child, nor progeny, nor lover, nor blood. Wherever they went now she left it for her to frame. Soa could only accept or reject, but she could have no say in it, not now. She didn’t quite think she did. 

“Whatever you say”, she sighed. “Your winning, your deciding, your living as you chose, is what I wanted but perhaps that is not my place.” She looked down at her hands, watching the claws retract, she would need to get another manicure. An ombre’d red she thinks. Claws dipped in blood. 

She hummed in thought again. Her own monsters were in her head, hers to face and conquer, or love and die by. 

“That night”, she said turning and reaching for the remaining of her blood. “I wonder how time would have arranged this, had I had my drink and danced myself out in the garden. That had been my original thought.” She emptied the glass and smiled, tongue savoring the taste. She hummed, focusing on the effect of the blood, igniting in her anew. “Meeting you was a pleasure , I will never deny that. I hope to meet you in time as she who knows all what she lived.”

Maja stands unmoored for a moment, her victory hollow. She thought regaining her memories would be anchoring, but she's lost at sea. Given her inability to feel pain, she's never gotten used to being uncomfortable, and it spreads through her like a disease. The thought of having to go through this sensation again, only worse and more intense, makes her want to slice open her stomach for a second time just to hang herself with her large intestine.

Isn't this what she's always wanted? Maja swallows down the new hurt.

I wonder how time would have arranged this, had I had my drink and danced myself out in the garden. “I don’t believe it could have happened any differently.” Maja had never thought of herself as a fatalist, but now... For better or worse, this is her story. Imagining what might have happened if they had taken different paths is pointless and made a mockery of everything she is. Her fury, however fierce, could not alter the past. She did not save Izabel, and her resentment for Soa was a mere calcification of her own anger at her inability to change her life's circumstances. 

De Leon is dead. She knows this innately. She knows because Soa confirmed it, and she knows the vampiress isn't responsible. Maja's mind is rapidly firing, but she can't recall the events surrounding his death or her own role in it. You know, a voice whispers, you've known all along. But the thought made her nauseous, and she doesn’t want emesis to join the list of her bodily fluids staining the carpet. 

She stares at Soa, wondering how it came to this. She believes Soa when she says she hopes to see her again, but her statement has a sense of finality to it. An end. She doesn’t know what's ending, but she can feel it happening in real-time. She takes in a sighing breath. 

“See you next time,” she says and is about to say something else, but doesn’t. “Next time.” She walks past Soa. The Vortex's front doors spit her out into the gushing rain, which she lets soak her to the not-real bone. She doesn't call a cab; she can walk for miles and miles without growing weary (certainly not a deliberate component of her design, but a component nonetheless) and desperately needs to outpace her racing mind. She only comes to a halt when she catches sight of her reflection in a darkened store window. In the window's black mirror, her face appears lost. Her dress is tattered and soaked, shellacked to her body like a latex suit.

“What am I here for?” she asks and nobody answers. Her eyes look black, haunted. Her mascara runs. “Fuck.” She turns away and disappears into the wet night. 

#oc: soa #t: she moves in mysterious ways