rcisehcll:
   as much as valentine enjoyed getting his hands dirty, revelled as bones snapped, and skin split beneath steady fingers, he knew that his talents were better suited for the kind of destruction that left no physical mark. no scars, no bruises, just pure, unadulterated, chaos. the third man shrivelling up before him on the floor as he pressed his back up against the wall would be treated to just that. david rosen was one of them. his power was hardly useful, true, but it made him sympathetic to the cause. though that wasnât to say that he agreed with their methods and fully subscribed to the extremes that would be necessary to ensure their kindâs ascension to positions of power. but that was what the power of persuasion was for. rosen was an excellent politician; eloquent yet brash when the time called for it, he just needed a little re-wiring to be the exact kind of soldier that they needed. && rewiring was something that valentine had grown quite skilled at.Â
  valentine gave camille room to work over the two others as he let his eyes screw shut, focusing his energy on sliding through thoughts and synapses like a knife through warm butter. he rewrote, edited, warped, anything he needed in order to make the man more pliable. to make him a gladiator whoâd stripped himself of his white hat and was ready to get down and dirty in the trenches when it was required of him. when he was done having his way with him, the man was unconscious. he would be for several days; the process was quite intrusive and valentine was hardly what youâd call gentle.  he brushed his pants off as he straightened, turning to what was left of camilleâs victims as he brought a hand down to rest on her shoulder. he didnât need to tell her enough was enough - the mere thought alone would be suggestive enough to still her motions. with her chest heaving and that wild look in her eyes, it reminded him of something so primal, so fractured, that were he capable of feeling anything he might have reconciled a likeness in it. her darkness complimented his own; it was why sheâd been drawn to him hadnât it? Â
         â while i didnât care for the begging, iâm disappointed to see                        you both rendered so speechless. i expected more from you.  âÂ
 with a flourished hand gesture he snapped their necks and watched as limp bodies fell to the floor, a sigh escaping between chapped lips smeared with blood. he brought a hand up to wipe it away, turning to face the woman standing beside him as he stepped closer. there were merely inches between them now, his hands settling at her hips as his thumbs dug roughly into the skin. while she was nothing but a warm body with a tortured mind to him, that would never stop him from revelling in the spoils of their victory. even with alarms sounding throughout the building and the threat of capture lapping at their heels, he pulled her into a crushing kiss - tasting salt and the metallic tang of crimson staining their lips and poisoning everything they touched. it was a bruising kiss, designed to destroy and burn and never to cherish. it was who they were; who theyâd become to survive. it was fire and ice and everything in between.Â
                     it wasnât  E N O U G H,                                but it would do.Â
her grip was tightening on the necks of the politicians with every passing moment, waiting for the perfect time to snap their neck and let them die for what they had done. what they had continued to do after she was rescued. their organization was relentless and camille was tortured until she was screaming every single night, never sleeping but waiting in the shadows for her time to get revenge. her blood was always pumping, ready to attack when the moment was right. the alarms in the building came into focus as valentineâs hand touched her shoulder. she fell from the deadly trance, releasing the hold on their necks even a little bit as she listened to her leader speak. his voice was always so soothing and brought her back to her place but thatâs not what camille wanted. she was furious that her hands werenât the ones ending their lives but she was not going to be defiant and killed for betrayal.Â
her fingers were tingling with the remaining power in her body and hungry for something, anything. she was glad to be pulled into a soul sucking kiss with the older male. she craved his kiss when she couldnât have it and used his son to fill in the gaps when he wasnât interested. she was never looking for a partner in valentine. she enjoyed the heated, hate filled sex that happened between the two of them, allowing it to release the anger that swam through her veins and settled into her brain from another life. camille was on the path of being a killing machine and this was the first step. valentine had allowed her the opportunity to experience the feeling that came with ending another life. the kiss was merely a congratulatory gesture, pleasurable but meaingless. it felt like something camille could get accustomed to regularly. lifting a hand to run through the back of valentineâs sweat filled hair, camille kept her body close to his, nipping and biting for a taste, not wanting to let go even though their mission was far from over for the night.Â














