#luka words

[queendracula]

Zoya: Has she always been like this?

Luka: -looks away- No.

Zoya: ... what happened to her?

Luka: I don't know. One day she woke up and was completely empty. She broke my heart.

Zoya: That's no way for a human being to live.

Luka: She's not a human being.

Luka: Humans have souls.

Luka: She doesn't.

[queendracula]

To Luka, from Isa: "Are you threatening me?"

Luka snorted and glanced back at her. She stood in front of him, arms crossed, a defiant look upon her face, and a bit of anger behind her eyes. He didn't care. He care too much for her and let her walk all over him, and that wasn't doing him very much good at all. He wasn't scared of her, and Isa would never be scared of him. Yet he wanted her to know exactly where he stood. He wouldn't let her push him about. not about this.

"Yes," he told her. "I am threatening you. In fact, I'm promising you." The strange thing was he wasn't even that angry with her. He was fed up with letting her push him around; that wasn't love, that was manipulation and weakness and he wasn't very much here for that anymore. Isa had held the power in the relationship for so long; it was time that ended. 

[queendracula]

Isa and Luka: Kill Me

He dreamed of killing her every night. 

The dreams weren't always the same, but they all had the same theme: they found a way to die, to end their misery, and the first thing he did was wrap his hand around her throat, our pull the knife out from the waistband of his pants, or find some object and bash her brains in with it. Sometimes he'd beat her to death, but that didn't happen often; he wasn't that violent, although he was that angry, and to say the thought hadn't passed through his mind, a time, and a time again would have been a lie. He wanted her to die more than he wanted to die.

That was quite the statement, since he said he hated living, roaming the earth only to watch the people, all people, who he loves die. And yet, he'd choose her over himself. Luka didn't consider himself to be an evil person; in fact, in comparison to the majority of people in the modern age, he was a good man. But good men didn't usually dream about murdering their wives night after night.

Tonight he used his hands, large and warm, and came behind her. She hadn't heard him, which was strange and completely gave away that this was a dream, because she always heard him. She always knew when he was there and would turn with that wicked and knowing and devious smile, mocking his inability to get away from her, and her ability to know him almost better than he knew himself. 

But she didn't hear him. And although he was well aware that this reality might never come, that he was in a dream state that soon he'd wake up from, open his eyes, maybe next to her, maybe not, that didn't stop him from wrapping his hands around her neck from behind, a small smile creeping across his face at the sound of her gasping in surprise, trying to fight him off. That was one thing she'd never have. She'd never be bigger than him, and he'd use that to his advantage. 

Luka pulled her closer towards him, her back to his chest, moving his arm around her neck, cradling her, almost in an intimate position. Isa would never give up fighting, he knew that; she'd fight until her last moment, with her last dying breath, and he'd be willing to fight that long too. 

Compared to the six thousand years of damnation she'd caused them, a few moments with his hands around her neck meant nothing.

[queendracula]

luka and isa: skyfall texts

LUKA (TO ISA IN THE SKYFALL UNIVERSE):

Send ✆ for a morning text

"I shouldn't have even been with you last night. That was a mistake. Maybe in another fifty years I'll stop making them."

Send ♔ for an angry text

"I feel like you've forgotten where you came from. Because I sure as fuck haven't. Your selfishness defeats me. I'm beyond done with you. And I hope it torments you for the rest of eternity."

Send  ♠ for a drunk text

"w here are yuo? i thinkt hose fucking angels are fllowing me."

Send ☏ for a vague text

".... he was our son. He didn't deserve that."

Send ⁇ for a worried text

"Isa jesus fuck it's been two days where the fuck are you? I'm sitting in the goddamn hotel room waiting for you. This is not the time to be bailing. Just come back."

Send ♣ for a text not meant for you

"I think we should take a break."

Send ✘ for a text that should never have been sent

"I got married. I got married last month and this is the best I've felt in five thousand years."

Send √ for a long winded confessing text 

"I was thinking about Mexico. I don't think we were ready either. I was living in some fucking fantasy from the twenties, and I don't think anything could ever be the way it was before. You were still wrong. Don't get that twisted. But I think we weren't ready."

Send ☢ for a desperate text

"Twenty years is long enough. I miss you. I love you. Come back."

Send ☼ for a congratulatory text

"I hope you're fucking happy with the life you've just giving us. Congratulations, you selfish bitch."

[queendracula]

warning.

With Zoya, he wasn’t sure if anyone could be just friends. She had this supernaturally seductive way about her, even with the innocence of her face. Men and women both seemed to end up in bed with her, whether you had wanted to when she came onto you or not. Luka didn’t know many of her friends, but in the year and a half or so they had lived together, he’d met a few of her sexual partners, and knew the fact to be true. So when, almost right away after she’d move in with him, a haven away from his demonic sister (her demonic step mother), they had started sleeping together, he later realized this had in reality been in the cars all along.

They were not dating, they were not a couple. They hardly spoke to each other on a daily basis, and he could go days without seeing her. Usually he didn’t spend that much time at home anyways, and when she was there she was locked in her room, either with paints or with a girl. He would spend the time with either of his brothers, or just working, as he found himself to be doing more and more often. Working late, as if he actually had a desk job.

They were friends, of course, they were good friends, and they had a lot in common, but Luka knew they would never be serious. Zoya didn’t seem to be looking for anything serious at all, and they both knew that when she did settle down it would be with a woman. So they were friends. Friends with benefits, whatever people would call it. They enjoyed sleeping together enough to keep doing it, at least.

But then Isa had come into the picture. He wasn’t sure what the nature of his relationship would be with her, either. More than employee and employer, but he and Isa were not friends, that was obvious from the beginning. She wasn’t very interested in the parts of his life that were important to him, and she didn’t seem all that interested in him in general. And yet he was infatuated with her, to his own dismay. There was no way this could turn out right, he new, but he wouldn’t cut off their relationship. Every week they saw each other more and more until they ended up in each other’s beds--normally his--every night. Luka felt like this was more to him then it was to her, so he kept anything he felt for her to himself for the sake of self preservation.

Zoya sat on the edge of his bed, her feet hardly touching the carpeted floor, the television on mute in the background. He was laying back, looking for the words. It wasn’t hard, but at the same time he didn’t want anything between them to change either. Sex was so casual to Zoya anyway, he had this deep rooted feeling that it wouldn’t.

“Isa and I are getting serious,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Zoya glanced back, and reached over the bed for her bra, slipping it on in one fluid motion.

“And so you should stop sleeping with other girls.”

“Basically.”

She nodded. “No big deal.” Zoya stood up, pulling her shorts back on. “Good luck with her.”

[queendracula]

blood red.

He could’ve called Esther. In fact, he had called Esther, and she’d hurriedly thrown at him the number of someone else who she said would be just as good, and hung up the phone, before Luka could even ask questions about who the hell she was sending to him. Nonetheless, he trusted Esther’s judgement more than most people’s, and she knew a good kill when she saw one. Isa Tabanova. The name and the number was all he had. Whoever she was, she’d have to do.

Luka wasn’t sure exactly what he had expected.

In all honesty, Esther was the first female hitman he’d come in contact with, and he had at first been very unsure about it. Esther had proven herself. It was an internal sexism, he didn’t mean, and yet it was there. So when the slim, dark haired woman walked through his door, looking vaguely similar to Esther herself, he struggled to hide his prejudices. But with every question he shot at her, she shot an answer back, unhesitatingly, confidently, arrogantly, so to the point of when he was done, and she stood in front of him with the look of, ‘Anymore stupid questions?’ He couldn’t help but give out a sigh of relief. She knew what she was doing, thankfully, and he had little worry that she would get the job done quickly, and without a trace back to any of them. And there’s nothing more attractive than a woman who knows her shit.

When she took the information and turned from his office, he had to keep himself from staring at her ass while she walked away. Maybe after the job’s done.