Life had been a desolate tundra for the young vamp. The heart of Novosibirsk had born -5C weather, where she flit frozen from one anxiety to the next. Months had passed since their first coming to UAU and she was no further closer to the truth of her mother’s murder. No stronger, nothing to show or give but a new language that fell on deaf ears. Most damaging of all, she’d been without her sun: her teenage dream come alive, every miracle manifest in the most handsomest dreamboat to walk the earth. Despite his faithful every call and text, she couldn’t help but awake from an enduring nightmare: just how long could he endure before he’d slip right through her pink-kissed fingertips? The haunting vision of a reality inevitably without him flipped her draconic guts inside and out.

So she clung all the tighter to him in the present, ghosting her hand over his on her leg with the smuggest smile tossed over her impish expression. “Those are step-siblings who’ve fallen madly in love with each other,” she hisses before nodding to another car, “and those are thieves who are fleeing the police! They must be punished.” For each story she made up, she’d bring her timeweaver’s fingertips up with hers, wave them idly at the cars. Then laugh, a raspy, thick sound with her engorged fangs propped over her full lips. “Naughty, all of them. They could only wish they’d drive as well as you!” She clapped her hands, especially impressed with his handling. With where he’d come from. From a homeless street rat to the coolest kid on the block, racing around in a red rental. She soaked in every burst of chronokinetic fuel, the magic of him floating all around her.

And when the car stopped and his lips found hers, she instinctively leaned into his touch like the sun falling into the sky. Eager fingers found his chestnut-celestial locks, locked onto the muscular ridges of his back. An evil smile found her face when they parted, the adrenaline of what he did veering into the parking lot playing on repeat behind her magenta irides. “It’s already been fun. You’re rad mint,” she’d whisper against his lips, drunk in his wine eyes.

While he went to grab their belongings from the trunk, she’d gawk at him like the useless vampire she was, standing pretty in a thin, shiny two-piece with an orbitant silk cover-up snug to her skin. Pink heart sunglasses fell over the bridge of her nose, heels that were made for the sand ready to roll. She’d hook her elbow into his, not offering to help lift a single thing, strutting onto the beach front. “There,” she vaguely said without really looking, as if summoning up a secluded little spot for them hemmed in by large jutting rocks. “We’ll have to put on your sunscreen first. You’re going to get burnt.” As if she wasn’t his same shade, had a secretive smile on her lips.

Farrin

The devil departs.

Maybe three minutes, maybe thirty after, I feel my quirk’s power slip back into my fingertips without my willing of it. Hmph. Blurred magenta eyes snap back to the spot he once was, finding neither trace nor existence of he who saved the day. The police are talking at me. Like, blah blah blah. The mother’s sobbing, crushing her child to her chest and kissing his gorgeous, perfect crown of hair. Glaring lights. Sirens. Back to the police. Now a differently-suited person is here, telling me I’m going to get some kind of write up for unauthorized quirk usage in public. Police lady says to drop it. Do you need a ride home. We’ll escort you back to UAU. Traffic’s easing up just a smidge, a million eyes plastered to shredded steel. And here I am, playing 21 questions with the officers. I’m dying inside, really I am, thinking of how Mr. Satan’s gonna make me replay these exact same conversations over to him.

It’s then I see -

“Thank you, young Hero. Unfortunately this isn’t the first attempted robotic kidnapping in the area. Please stay vigilant.”

an oil-smattered thing, sanguine markings like a talisman lost to its era. “Thank you Officer. I apologize for the trouble. Please do your best.” The vapid words are out immediately as I stroll forward, pick up the skull. The ride home’s unremarkable. The hug from Farrin afterwards, everything I’ve ever wanted in the world.

Then the earth’s quiet. Very, very quiet. In my dorm, door tightly shut, I retrieve the skull, watch the moonlight pour into its indentations with bated breathe. I smile. Place it atop my pillow so he watches me sleep, whispers spells upon me. Till we meet again.

Ghouligan

Have you ever seen a miracle?

Stood right where you’re at, witnessing God’s might overflow the earthly realm? I can count ‘em on my fingertips. I almost miss it - the halituous dome breathed into existence, the unfurling of fire rapidly expanding out of control underneath it. The rest of the world’s awash. There’s a deluge crashing upon us, of sirens and red and white and black and blue lights pouring into all you can see, hear, a child’s sob cutting through the mix. I’m a Hero-to-be, UAU says, so I should be attuned to all of this. Maybe I could, if I tried. But I don’t. Because he’s all I can see.

My heels are staccato shots against the earth, heart heavy as it pounds against my chest. The kid’s still in my arms as my knees go crashing onto the asphalt a beat later. I don’t feel it, not in the moment. Don’t feel anything, too many thoughts exploding in my consciousness at the sight of a mask fallen, black wisps withered from his person. Tattoos, so many tattoos. So he’s human, afterall. A sad smile finds my lips, despite myself, tears building in magenta irides. He’s human. A conventionally tall, dark and handsome demon brought to earth. Just how did he get here?

“Stay with me,” I whisper, if I even speak at all. One hand lightly graces his chest, as if still unsure if my fingertips will slip right through him. You don’t just go touching God, okay? If he allows my fingers to do what they do, even knocked out, a vibrant pink halo would find its way above his head, my quirk dispensing healing waves throughout his broken body. “That was pretty mint. You just go showing off to lil kids all the time like that? You’re going to inspire this one to Heroism or whatever it is you do.” My voice is soft, my words fast. I don’t know why I do it, talking so much when someone’s unconscious. Like maybe if I say enough, or the right thing, they’ll come back to me. Reality’s a dark witch.

Another halo finds its way above the little one, who’s suddenly real quiet, baby eyes tearing over the sight of his savior.

Ghouligan

My mother comes to me in my dreams.

She’s pretty, perfect. Everytime she cuts a path through the veil to me, she’s radiant, ethereal and majestically different. Like a version of her I’ve never seen before, yet know so intimately because that’s my mother. A thousand years, lifetimes, timelines could go by and I’d pick her apart from the crowd. She looks upon me. Smiles. They say you have that dream - that one shared dream, the one where your loved one hugs you - and that’s how you know they’ve moved on. I’m looking for her every night, waiting years for my hug.

On the eve of Mother’s Day, she came to me.

Sanguine liquid deluges her scales, a knife stabs her heart. She opens her arms to me, a scream frozen in place over her cracked lips, obsidian eyes seared into her visage. I’m screaming, I’m running - away from her as the serrated edge of another blade thrusts through her ribs -

Tears stain the pillow. My cold hands grasp all the harder to Farrin, face hiding into his own. I lay like that, paralyzed, till the sun spills through the window and onto his chestnut locks. I don’t think I’m breathing. Revenge is stuck, cold, superheated, in my chest with nowhere to go. It’s sour. It’s all encompassing. Pink-kissed fingertips curl around my love’s skin, holding on for dear life. He’s the only one who knows this feeling, knows the ugly inside of my heart. Knows the unending void of grief we get on a daily basis. The years only fester, intensify hell. Mother’s Day, the title of it anyway, guts us deeper.

I pull him closer. My head’s heavy. C’mon babe. Time for church, I wanna say, settling for a kiss over his forehead. Mhm… “I love you.”

We’d face it together. All things, him and I together as one.



Farrin

Spring Equinox.

We’re a day or two before we crawl home. Back to my family’s mansion, the multi-billion yen glass castle sitting high in Kyoto. It’s a prison, crystal spires and a fire-breathing dragon in the form of my father. That’s a story for later, tho.

I tug on my leather crop top, short skirt and heels. Lost an hour or two towards applying bloodred lipstick, diamond jewels jutting out from the tips of my mother’s horns and mine too. It’s all luxurious, low, slow exfoliation like I’m prepping for the best date of my life. Every date yet with Farrin is the best one yet, tbh. He’s my dreamboat and my every dream come true, hottest man alive and World’s Greatest Hero, too. But these holiday weekend ones are extra special. Days we can steal away from the Heroic pursuit… Well, one of us, anyway. It’s not really my long term plan. I stare into the mirror, vaguely dazed by the pale-pink vamp bathed in warm light. Some days I wish this wasn’t our universe at all. No Herodom, no dead parents, no me lying to him about my ultimate motive for entering UAU. It leaves a crater where my heart was. The last one, leaving him. One day.

I wish I wasn’t me. I blink.

Don’t think about it.

Turning away from the mirror, closing the Bible app, I’m off and out the door. The world’s shifting under my heels. I feel it, wonder if he does too. The school year was well into play and he’d already had his fair share of Villains thrown his way; we lived through a wrecked church, and somewhere along the way I fought robotic demonic spawns along Antoine’s side. It was mad wild. Now today’s all about us, me and my love. With a pouch filled with special coins in the minibag slung across my shoulders, and a load of snacks too, I’d make it to his door. It smells like sweat and sin in the boy’s halls, so I just can’t wait to be in his arms again. Warm, safe, the scent of moss, musk and earth enveloping me. When he opens the door, I’d throw him into a great big hug and kiss, twist my fingertips into those chestnut locks. Which of course means that I was, irrefutably without a doubt, first.

Whenever we pulled apart, I’d smile super big. “Alright, handsome,” I chirp, tucking my arm under his super thick own, intertwining our fingers as a ball at my heart, “Which God are we praying to first?”



Farrin

I used to be a real thinking girl. Had my whole life figured out, knew my dream house and dream dog and dream partner when consciousness snapped me into reality as a tot. Prayed upon it, tried my best to speak it into existence. Now my soulmate’s the only certainty in my life, a love so heavy I can’t possibly place that anchor around his neck.

Oh and, I’m taking orders from a devilish sprite, peeled out the gates of ruin.

What the hell’s wrong with me?

“Good plan,” I whisper, halo searing hot in my palms. There’s no thought here. It’s raw anger I’m harbouring, a shadow in my heart as magenta eyes shoot towards the skull. Seeking life, some sort of answer. I’m not going to get it. I’m not listening if I was. I just want to act. I acquiesce when he asks me to hang on, a low hiss seethed between my fangs when I do what he says. He’s warm, otherworldly. It’s my imagination maybe, the singe of cinder and magic raw off of him. Or maybe it’s the rush of blood in my head as we lift up, held impossibly high by that which I can’t see. Platform after platform, a ramp like his own reality - loftier, darker, dipped in sin - overlaid onto earth. It doesn’t make sense; I hold on tighter to him, don’t miss the red flash of color like blood spilled through the night. He made a way for us. It was on me now. Oh, he says it too. That’s mega rad. “That’s mint. I won’t waste your sacrifice,” I promise, hair whipped back with anger alive in my eyes.

Sliding down the undulating platform at breakneck speed, I whip out my halo, twist all the way back and hurl one towards the motorcycle. At full throttle it cuts across the night, dead-on slashes the motorcycle tires. Another arm shoots up - adult, glinting in the night? - and this time my other halo finds my hand, aims right towards it. SHLICK!! The sound cracks the night, a frayed hand soaring through the sky. With blood like oil arching with it. There’s no weapon attached to it… God forgives, I don’t.

But then something’s off, very off. The acrid scent of burnt rubber mixes with something chemical. The kid’s crying - is as he clambers onto me, eyes blown wide - and then my eyes are the same way when the motorcycle driver stares me down with cold, steel eyes. A countdown goes off. Oh. A robot napper. I hate it here.

“Hold on,” I whisper to the kid, sprinting away, towards the direction of my newfound maybe friend. I have to warn him. Maybe he’s already off to a whole new world. Cars swerve in and out this section of the highway, the buildup behind us immense.

“It’s gonna blow!”

Ghouligan

God, who’s this?

It’s an innocent thought, I swear, seeing Satan peel out of hell from a gate I know not where. There he stands, a cut of the night, death’s epitome in his skull and a… floating eight-ball? It must be the new symbol of Ruining, for the end of all things. Sepulcher and burning besides me. But he’s good at what he does. It happens so fast I almost miss it - the gun being shot out of the napper’s hand, the crash against the speeding asphalt. Same second, my tail lurches out to get a hold of the steering wheel. The man in the car screams again, maybe this time because the superheated hot tip’s near his face. I’d be scared too. This isn’t my brightest moment as a Hero-to-be. But it’s enough to not make us crash.

I flip my head towards the demon, admire his defiance of gravity. Physics. Whatever it is, magic made man. “It’s gonna take a lot more than that to hurt me.” I look at him again, pondering if my fingertips will slip right through him if I reach out to touch him. My brain just can’t compute him being there. “Thanks for checking, tho.” I twirl my halo in my hand, arc backwards and launch it towards the motorcycle’s wheels. It narrowly misses and I hiss, catching the ricocheting ring with an ugly mug. Now the napper’s picking up speed again and I look down to the guy in the driver’s seat. “Zero shame if you pull over! Better safe than sorry!” I turn back to the otherworldly phantasm. “Thanks for that. You’re pretty rad,” I whisper among the blaring horns, standing up again to jump from this car to the next. Plomp, plomp, plomp. Three cars, two lanes away and just mere seconds till he gets the exit. I was trying to desperately bite back the fact that I’m not getting this goon on my own.

Ghouligan