Broken Playground

I don't own Daughters of the Moon.

Warning: Yuri/Femslash, Sexual Themes, & Full-Blown Girl-On-Girl Action.

Meant for Nymbis's Contest—Odd Pairing, because everyone likes hot girls on hot girls… I think.


Shattering the serenity, cherry blossoms wither.

Around the creak, children rejoice in a circle,

Hands clasped, fingers curled together.

From innocence, to broken porcelain vases,

Innocence on the cherished playgrounds shatters.

Raise the shards to the translucent clouds,

Vines of sour grape entwine the wood, tantalizing.

The jovial laughter is dying, as the cold manor croaks,

With fog spilling in, blinding the precious scene of purity.

Cherry blossoms fall, cracked and dead,

Ceasing the laughter that once penetrated the perpetual night.

Imaginary fields of Earthly beauty,

Dark thunder shrouding the vision of her mind.

From innocence to screeching voices,

The thorns fight around their barrier,

Ripping flesh, crimson greeting them warmly.

The grapes turn sour,

Nothing but molded brown

And she knows where the innocence went,

So long ago… in a world of her own.

Innocence is restored to the boys and girls

Of the broken playground of a new generation.


In a shallow pool of thick crimson, Vanessa's dainty feet touched the solid bottom. The red liquid soaked into her white shirt, converting it into a transparent fabric that allowed the other—Yvonne—to see the outlines of her curves and the lacy bra gripping her chest. Yvonne smirked, a wicked motion that sent pleasurable fear spiraling down Vanessa's back. After all, the ferocious woman was entrancing—with locks of gold and orbs that held a masquerade of blissfulness, while inside, she was a screaming mess of emptiness and pain.

"Where has your innocence gone?" Yvonne questioned mockingly, as she moved fluidly through the pond. Lingering around the pond was a field of lush grape vines and towering wheat grass. The air smelt of fresh strawberries—wavering from every direction of the illusion of a faraway land in the peaceful mind of dreams. A masterpiece painting of pink and blue shrouded the sky, making it far more interesting.

"I don't know," Vanessa managed to sputter.

Yvonne halted in front of the blonde, her tresses floating on the surface. "You don't know?" Her slender fingers feebly stroked the Goddess's plump, yet angular cheeks; moving downward to press against the tender flesh of her plush, rosy lips that parted ever-so-slightly in response. "Isn't it fabulous to see all the pretty colors?" Yvonne purred, gesturing dismissively to the odd dimension.

Vanessa nodded mechanically. "Yes."

"No more restrictions or morals, Pandora Daughter," the Immortal stated, her fingers sweeping along her pointy collarbone. Vanessa tilted her head back, awaiting the heaven-sent call of freedom. Of course, she felt her body stiffen when warm lips peppered the curve of her neck; such a delicious taste flooded the Immortal's mouth—like the floral flavor of bitter yet churning honey or blossomed roses. Entwining her arms around Vanessa's, Yvonne towed the young blonde out of the red pond, drenched, and led her to the grape vines.

"So fresh," Yvonne complimented, the words spiraling from throat into a hum. Plucking one off, she popped it into her mouth and her eyes fluttered to a close as the sweet, tender taste of the grape juices skimmed down her throat and into her stomach. Vanessa, licking her lips, gingerly strummed one off and nibbled at it, as though savoring the scrumptious vigor it established in her now dry throat.

"So appetizing," Yvonne drawled, and in a swift notion, her palms had glided up the Goddess's legs, past her thighs and settling at her hips. Vanessa dropped the small fruit, and gazed into the Immortal's deeply mesmerizing azure irises. But the Immortal was no longer sucking and chewing slowly on the fruit, but watching the Goddess with sheer intensity.

"Where are we?"

Yvonne kissed Vanessa's neck and murmured into her ear, "A place you'll never visit again." She paused, as if not satisfied by her words; finally adding, "If you're dumped or something crappy happens to your life, then yes, you'll be back here in no time."


"Shh…" Her finger pressed against her lips, silencing the Goddess. Removing it, she let it slide down Vanessa's arms; as light as a feather whispering across her creamy flesh. A pleasant shiver tingled in her spine; a surge triggering a ferocious smirk etching onto Yvonne's gaunt and hellish face—hellish because of the black shadow circled around each hard azure eyes. As Vanessa stared closer, she could see the dangerous white gleam of her teeth; the exotic, glistening tan skin; lush pale red lips. In truth, Vanessa wondered why Yvonne wasn't the Goddess, and Vanessa the demon hiding within the shadows of reality.

Yvonne trailed her index finger across the Goddess's flat stomach, and then brought it up to press against her lips—licking it, as though the scent of Vanessa's flesh had been embedded onto her finger. Something keen to contentment played on her face. Flexing her shoulders, Yvonne shifted to the side and this time, snapped the vine in half, allowing a parade of grapes to fall to their feet. Both girls kneeled and reached for them. Vanessa gasped, however, when her fingers barely made contact with the fruits, and in a slow process, each grape transformed into a molded brown color—the color of bitter coffee. Shriveling up, all that was left scattered on the ground was dead, rotten fruit.

"How delicious," Yvonne commented dryly; sarcastically.

"Is this a play on what we're doing?" Vanessa teased half-heartedly. "That we're impure and sinful creatures that are ruining the real world?"

"Yes, because nobody enjoys love," Yvonne agreed, smiling wickedly, "Well, love between the same genders. I, however, find it a great deal better than the tough skin and insensitivity of men." Her sharp tongue stroked her bottom lip in a vigorous manner. "I suppose you wouldn't know any of those sort of men, seeing as your boy toy is one sensitive and affectionate fool."

Vanessa felt no offense to this insult; more amused. "He's not as bad as you."

Yvonne leaned into Vanessa's neck; pressing her face into the Goddess's collarbone. Lifting her lips, she murmured lightly into Vanessa's ear, "No one…"—a pause created for dramatic affect—"is as bad as me… Remember that."

"Of course I will."

A breeze, so gentle, twirled around Yvonne's body—beckoning wisps of blonde tendrils to flay around her face. For a brief moment, once she closed her eyes, a deep sorrow—more of an emotion of remorse, actually—took hold of her expression, before vanishing in a snap. Stepping away from Vanessa, she began to amble away, all the while whispering, "No… you won't."

Although perplexed, Vanessa trailed closely behind the Immortal; her eyes wandering ahead to where the wheat field dwelled. As she lithely maneuvered through the towering wheat, she began snagging a few so that she can toy with it. Up ahead, an area of the field was flat, and when brushing away more wheat, Vanessa caught sight of Yvonne lounging on her back; flattening many of the crops.

"Come," Yvonne summoned, her head tilted, "Sit."

Gingerly, Vanessa perched herself down beside her, serene once more, and gazed up at the pink and blue. A swell of white clouds, resembling the substance of cotton candy, formed into a shape—that of a heart, with a split tearing down the center. However, the murmuring of the Immortal shattered her observations.

"O, those left behind in the dead of night… May you listen, I plead." It rolled off Yvonne's tongue into a soft humming; in fact, she was singing quietly.

"What is that?" Vanessa questioned curiously.

Yvonne continued to gaze upward. "My mother's lullaby."

"You have a nice voice."

"It's all a part of being a siren," Yvonne responded.

"You lure men with your voice and then drown them," Vanessa joked, stifling giggles.

"Drown them in an eternal sea of sorrow and emptiness," the Immortal teased back, her body quivering with silent snickers. She pulled a delicate string of wheat from the ground and gently caressed Vanessa's stomach; a fuzzy feeling fluttering the Goddess's stomach, causing her to snap away from it and giggle madly at the tickling sensation.

Yvonne arched her back and stretched luxuriously. "I'd say this isn't as great as my bedroom in reality, but it's still good quality." Her finger pointed to the sky. "Seeing a masterpiece painting like this would be a great addition to my bedroom." She clawed at the soft dirt on the ground. "I'd prefer my Egyptian cotton sheets and my plush little mattress, but I suppose Earth's surface is just as comforting." And there"—she gestured to the brilliant sun and moon, hovering so dangerously and oddly close; both bright and shimmering—"is my lamp. Earth is my bed and the sun and moon are my light to see through the darkness." A sad smile carved onto her face.

"Aren't you supposed to despise the moon?"

The Immortal shrugged. "I despise Selene, not the moon."

"But Selene is the moon," Vanessa corrected.

"No, Selene is the mere ruler and the moon is the support. I feel remorse for the moon." Seeing the Goddess's quizzical stare, she explained, "Why be forced to support a figure with no backbone—no real strength other than the moon's? Poor moon… she should break away from Selene, the manipulative wench… being forced to stare at Earth all the time would blow."

Vanessa blinked. "Why is that?"

"Humans—mortals—are pathetic creatures so easily driven by their petty emotions. And how they ruin the very thing—Earth—that supports their worthless lives! Ha! It's a shame that the Earth hasn't decided upon suicide and completely eliminated all that reside in her comfort!" Suddenly, she snapped the wheat in half and bent it downward—with a surge, it had become a cigarette.

"How strange is it when I create a cigarette in this world when drugs and tobacco is what created it?"

"Give me some," Vanessa demanded, yanking it out of Yvonne's grasp. Closing her lips on the small cigarette, she inhaled the rich, intoxicating substance, but the freshness of strawberry-flavoring peppered her tongue; saliva bubbled in her throat. "When will we awake?" Her voice was raspy and drained, but nonetheless, Yvonne replied silkily,

"Who cares…"

Of course, that evening was spent in the strange land where impurity and purity clashed; sins and innocence collided. Wheat fields dwelled and painted skies were the figment of beauty; grapevines entwined around once another, turning sour and brown at the touch of those who are sinful. The endless plains of false Earth was quite a treat… too bad all would be lost to them in the morning.

AN: If you don't know… they're on drugs. Lol.