#honeysuckle sorrows au

[ectoplasmicsoda]

A little blip of honeysuckle!Jazz !!

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Joel (41) / F!reader (25) | 4.7k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak

Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky attitude or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: hi guys!! I’m fresh off finishing east side of sorrow and couldn’t wait to hop into this work. I can not thank everyone enough for the fun we had with esos, but i am beyond stoked to meet this joel because i am ferallllll for him all dirty on a ranch with a cowboy hat on a horse ughhhh, give it to me already. anyways, let me know if you like it 🤍 thank you to @sawymredfox for letting me idea dump on you and give me all kinda of ideas! i love you to pieces! this ones for you my dear!

A03 Link | Spotify Link | Masterlink

Pt. 1: Oklahoma Smokeshow

Half a mile from the turnpike, two miles from home, along the winding and twisting asphalt of Cold Creek road, Joel Miller rasps his gloved hand against the steering wheel of the Rising Sun Ranch’s newly bought—second (maybe fifth?) hand old pickup truck. A beat up nineties chevy with rust on the floorboard and a new-car tree hanging from the rearview mirror. Beside him, his brother Tommy bounces his knee while he takes a long drag off his second cigarette since this drive started. The smoke plumes through the window, then back inside when the chill outside pushes the hot smoke back into the cab, whirling around Joel's senses like it belongs there. The smell is insufferable and makes Joel’s skin crawl, takes him to a time before ropers scars and belt buckles.

“Know that shit’s gon’ kill you, right?” He doesn’t need to look over at his brother's form beside him to know the younger man is anxious, like he usually is on long car rides. “You used to do it too, big brother.” Joel scuffs at him, keeps his one gloved hand on the wheel as he keeps on driving. He’s not wrong, if he wants to talk about the Joel of ten years ago, a distant, ragged and angry version of himself. “Don’t remind me.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the snow coated road ahead of him. He’s cautious at this time of the year, the winter storms usually leave them stranded on the ranch for a few weeks, but he’s lucky enough to have caught the dark clouds before they started to let down too much. The salt on the roads seem to do the trick for the time being, so long as he stays away from the embankment and keeps his eyes on the dimming road ahead.

It was mid day, but the sun sets early in the winter, so it hangs low in the sky amongst the cold abyss, like it’s desperately reaching out for the horizon—like it wants to run from this place too. He looks ahead and silently wishes to himself that he could follow those last rays of sunshine into tomorrow, like maybe he would find something there.

He shakes the thought and sets his mind back on track, why they were out here. “When we get back to the ranch, you need to find a way to apologize to Miss Lou. She really was just tryin’ to be helpful, Tommy. She ain’t wrong for that.” Louise had always been more than welcoming and kind to them, she’s saved their asses more than once and she feeds them more than she needs to, but his brother can never seem to let a good thing be, always biting the hand that attempted to feed him.

“Don’t like it when people go through my shit, man, you know that.” He’s nearly done with his cigarette, thank fuck because Joel wants to grab it from his hand himself and chuck it out the window. “She wasn’t goin’ through your stuff, dipshit, she was doin’ your laundry! Doesn’t give you any right to snap at someone like that. Especially a nice lady who’s husband give’s us a dollar in our pocket and a roof over our heads. Do you have any Idea where we’d be without that?”

It cuts deep because Tommy flicks his butt out the window and sinks down in his seat, he knows Joel is right because they are incredibly lucky to be where they are now. They would probably never find somewhere as appealing as their little shared hunting cabin a half mile from the main house. “Hank ain’t happy,” he adds, like Tommy doesn’t already know that after the argument that led to them leaving. “We wouldn’t be out in a goddamned snow storm for fuckin’ flowers if Hank was happy.”

Joel finally glances over, but when he does, it’s at the bouquet of flowers sitting beside him on the bench seat. “Doesn’t matter, you still need to apologize—to both of them. We wouldn’t have shit if it weren’t for them—“ they wouldn’t, they were on their last leg, hitchhiking across half the country when they found an ad outside of the feed store in Jackson looking for a ranch hand in exchange for room and board. Joel gave them two for the price of one and the rest was history. Tommy makes an annoyed sound and interrupts. “Joel, what's that?” Directly in front of them, on the side of the road caught in an embankment is a little blue car sunk all the way down to the lug nuts. It doesn’t look like the person lost control, but they just drove into the embankment.

This road isn’t frequented and the cell service is spotty, but the taillights on the car tell him there's someone inside. “I’m stoppin’ to help,'' Joel informs him, but Tommy shifts and rolls his eyes—he’s never been the humanitarian type. “Why? I’m sure they can pay for a tow truck. Besides, if they are stupid enough to get stuck in an embankment, they can suffer.” Usually, Joel would agree, but the closer they get to Christmas, the more that iced over heart of his starts to thaw out.

Joel stops the truck on the road and leaves it running while he looks over at his brother. “Ain’t leavin’ nobody stuck out here in this storm, even if they’re stupid. They won't make it through the night.” He shuts the door behind him and stuffs his hands into his pockets. An agitated gust of air leaves his lungs in the form of cloudy condensation amongst the snowfall. He walks up to the car, leaning down so he can glance inside without getting too close. Through the fogged window, he can make out the figure of a woman leaned against the steering wheel, her face casted by her hair hanging all around while she slumps her head against the wheel. Stupid—stupid girl. What the hell is she doing way out here?

He rasps against the window and she jolts just as Tommy comes up behind him, finally having left the comfort of the truck cab. “S’a girl, should have guessed.” Tommy interjects with a crude tone, thankfully before she rolls the window down. She looks a little scared and a lot embarrassed, her eyes are red like she’s been crying her heart out. It doesn’t make Joel sad, it makes him uncomfortable. Emotions make his skin crawl, make him uneasy. He doesn’t handle people crying well, he doesn’t know how to react to it, what he should say or do.

“You need someone to pull you out?” He asks, trying his best to sound mellow tempered and helpful. He’s not, but he won't be able to sleep tonight if he has to drive by the coroner unsticking her frozen body from the seats in the morning. “I’m so sorry—I was checking my phone because my mom texted me and I didn’t see the corner—“ stuck in the snow because she was on her fucking phone? “You hit a snow embankment because you were textin’? You dim or somethin’, girl?” She gives him a hard glance, eyebrows pulled together tightly. “I’m not dim, but I can tell you’re dense.”

Tommy scuffs from beside him and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll grab the chain,” he tells his brother as he heads towards the truck. “I’m gonna pull you out, but after that you’re on your own, kid. This storm is just starin’, might be smart if you headed back to whatever city you blew in from.”

She’s the furthest thing from appreciative when Joel hooks a chain to the frame of her car and the hitch on the front of the old red chevy. When she gets out of the little blue car, Joel gets the full extent of how unprepared she is for a full on impending whiteout snowstorm. Her pants have rips and holes, like they are meant to be there, no way they are offering any kind of protection from the chill. Her boots have a three inch heel like she’s walking along some new york sidewalk with a tiny dog in her arms. She has a jacket, fur lining the hood and yet she’s still shaking like it all does nothing to protect her from the snow.

“Thank you for doing this, but I really could have called a tow truck or something. They probably would have been a lot nicer about it.” Her voice is dripping with disdain when he stands upright again. “You want nice, or you want to be dead? Because there ain’t no company sending a driver out here when were forecasted to get two feet overnight.”

She puts her hands on her hips in an attempted threatening manner, like that might scare Joel into an apology when she looks like an angry child who didn’t get their way. Joel hated people like this, too good for the world with their nose up in the air. He turns around to head back to the truck when he spots the piles of boxes in her back seat. Great—another fuckin’ know it all who think’s living out here is romantic and rustic. “You movin’ out here somewhere? You know there ain’t a mall for like, a hundred and fifty miles, right?”

She’s irritated now, with all the rude comments Joel is throwing her way—but he doesn’t care because the last thing this place needs is more city people thinking they can tame this untouched land. It shouldn’t bother him, because how long could she really last out here anyways? With those three inch heels and clothes fit for a concrete jungle, not muddy plains and cattle. She won't make it a month out here in the dead of winter.

“Just pull my car out, or leave me be, because the last thing I need right now is to get harassed by some old dumb fuck cowboy.” Dumb cowboy? Old? Like he’s the fucking moron out here in the middle of a blizzard in a car with bald ass tires and pants with holes in them. Maybe he should fucking leave, let her strand around trying to find a signal to call a tow company that wont come. “You know what?” Teach her a lesson, maybe then she’ll learn this place isn’t for people like her. With her done up hair and makeup—she’s pretty, unnaturally so—like she’s trying to damn hard to look that good—god damnit—“walk around in those stupid fucking shoes and see if you can find your own way out,” he leans down and undoes the hook under her car roughly. “Come on Tommy, were out of here.” She stomps her foot in the snow and starts to pace back to her car.

Joel makes his way back to the truck and unhooks the chain from the front. He’s had a long fucking day of taking care of his idiot bothers problems and he doesn’t have the patience to help some girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her.

“Hey, big brother.” It’s Tommy’s voice in his ears when he finally closes the door behind himself, huffing in discontent as he puts it in gear. “What.” He snaps, backing away from the stuck car and those sinfully tight jeans on that tight little—mother fucking son of a bitch, stop it!—he cant stand people like her, fucking with his head and getting under his skin. The type of girls who have looked him up and down and laughed in his face at the thought of someone like him being up to standard for someone like them. That snot nosed brat can sit in the snow, for all he cares.

“No need to get all hostile at me, man—I’m just checkin’ on ya. You’re all red and pissy, and nothin’ gets you all worked up like that.” He shrugs beside him with a cocky sort of snort. “I mean, unless—“ Joel jerks on the wheel and sneers over at his brother. “Drop it. Not another fucking word or I’ll leave you here too.”

Tommy’s jaw snaps shut and he looks out the passenger window, the radio playing quietly while the storm picks up, and the road carries on. Joel doesn’t think about what he’s done, only how his knee bounces and his hands flex the whole way back to the ranch. How his heart pounds and his blood rushes and it makes his head throb.

When they pull into the muddy drive, he shuts off the truck and turns towards his brother and the bouquet of flowers. “You really need to mean it when you talk to them, I’m serious. They are nice people who’ve looked out for us for two years. We owe them that, at least.” His little brother seems serious when he nods, so Joel passes him the flowers and heads inside. They have sacrificed so much to help Joel and Tommy. They’d been through dark winters with them, when they lost half the herd to the cold and Joel spent the night in the barn with what was left to make sure they all stayed upright and dry. They’ve all had empty bellies at night, didn’t have two nickels to rub together between the four of them and they’ve stood by each others sides through it. They’ve seen Tommy lose his shit a few times, too—so they know he’s capable of coming back from it. He just hopes this time wasn’t too far—Tommy had yelled at her for simply washing his clothes for him.

When the door to the big white farm house creaks open, Joel steps inside to the warm scent of roast in the oven and potatoes on the stove, Hank in his recliner with the newspaper in his hand and his reading glasses on while the game plays in the background. Hank was a large man, kind of chubby in the joyous kind of way, kind eyes and balding on the top. He laughs a lot, but he takes no shit while he’s at it.

“Kitchen,” Joel directs Tommy, who makes his way to the conjoining room where Louise was probably busy cooking dinner. Joel makes his way over to the couch across from Hank, who drops his paper and gives Joel a long look. “You talk to him?” He nods his head and glances down at his snowy boots. “He’s been real anxious all day. Storm comin’ in is messin’ with him and he knows it's no excuse to snap at anyone. He’s in there apologizin’.”

The older man nods at him and glances over his shoulder where Joel can barely see Tommy handing her the bouquet. “She was really shaken up over it, I hate seeing her so upset. She’s been excited all day and trying to make the house looks nice. I think it was just a misunderstanding, but don’t give him any excuse to yell at her like that.”

Joel twists his hands around and looks up at Hank who wears a solemn expression. “I know, I’m real sorry, Hank.”

The man across from him sigh, then offers a faint smile as he stands from his chair. “It’s alright. You boys are like family, families fight—it happens. Lets get some dinner, forget about all this mess, alright?” Joel is thankful for the reason to drop the conversation and stands with the older man as they head towards the kitchen. Louise and Tommy are talking quietly, smiling at each other until she reaches out and embraces him in a soft looking hug. It's an ease on Joel’s wound tight mind, thinking Tommy had finally thrown a wrench in the only good thing they’ve had in ten years.

Dinner is delicious, savory roast that he can dip soft bread in, let is soak up all the juice that he tries and fails to not get all over his beard. When his bowl is empty and his stomach feels distended, he leans back in his chair and sighs contently. “That was amazing, Miss Lou—I don’t know how you do it.” The smile she gives him isn’t like one of her usuals, it’s slightly saddened and disheartened when she looks across the table at him. For a moment, he worries that Tommy’s words are getting to her again. “Everythin’ okay?” He sits up a little in his chair.

“I'm a little worried. Our daughter was on her way home from college today, she’s finally graduated and she called me this morning to tell me she’d be home before supper, so I made her favorite.” She looks towards the window. “The storm is getting worse, I’m worried her little car wont make it,” Joel’s whole stomach lurches into his throat and he nearly throws up in his hands. “I told you we should have gotten her a truck, Hank, you know she’s not the best driver in snow.”

Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!—he’s such a fucking idiot. He knew she was coming home today, Lou has been talking about it for weeks, the impending return of the prodigy child, home with a degree to save the ranch—or whatever it is that she was doing. He’d heard them talk about her so many times, she was all brains and no know-how, Hank always talked about how clumsy and awkward she was, but how brilliant her mind was at the same time. He’d always questioned how uncoordinated she really was, based on the photos of her as a young woman roping in the rodeo. Fuck—he should have recognized her... “What’s her name again?” Tommy asks like he has no fucking clue Joel is losing his ever loving shit right now. They left her stranded on the side of the road in the middle of this damn snow storm. He hears Louise say her name but it doesn’t register because he feels like he’s on fire and drownings at the same time. “But everyone’s always called her Honey. Since she was a little little thing. She was always so ornery and stubborn until one day she got into a bee box and got covered in bee stings. Ever since that day she was so sweet, so we started calling her Honey.” Lou has this soft smile and all Joel can think about is how he’d told her to crawl back to whatever city she came from in her stupid fucking shoes. “She’s got a real mouth on her till something puts her straight.” Hank chuckles and Joel abruptly stands from his seat.

“I’m finished, I can go out and have a look incase she got stuck somewhere.” He slings on his jacket, but Tommy is still eating and doesn’t think much of it—dumb ass. “Are you sure? She’s probably fine, she knows better than to get caught out in these storms, she probably got a hotel in town.” Joel shakes his head at them and throws on his thick Carhartt jacket that Hank gave him his first winter here after watching him shiver in the fields. “I’m sure, it’s gettin’ bad, just gonna make sure she ain’t stuck somewhere.” Joel makes his way out the door quickly, grabbing the keys to the truck that they had given to him—“how are you supposed to manage a ranch if you don’t have a way to get around?”

He starts up the old chevy and it fires to life despite the snow coming down in heaps now. He’s worried about the road back to her car, about the probably eight inches lining the long driveway, but he throws it in four wheel drive and tries his damndest to get through it because despite all the things stacking up against him, his biggest worry is the police finding her frozen to death in the morning and her parents faces when they find out it was Joel who abandoned her there to die. God—he’s such a prick.

The road is slippery and tricky, a winding snow covered path along the hillside leading towards Jackson. It takes him twenty minutes in this blizzard to get there, all he can think about the entire time is the half freezing girl hiding in her car and the warm food in his belly that was meant for her. He stops the truck when he gets to the car, the lights are off and it looks abandoned—his gut lurches again, what if he’s already too late? Two hours have passed since he left her stranded and the sun has set now, real cold is creeping in.

He jumps out of the truck and walks up to the window. He can't see inside because the glass is fogged, so she has to be alive in there. He knocks on the window and the door jerks against the cold. “Hey,” he pulls the door open more, she’s sitting in the driver seat, pale and shaking with a small blanket pulled around her to keep in some warmth. The look she gives him could kill a man if he didn’t feel like he was already going to die the second you tell your parents that he left you there.

“Y-Your conscious f-finally get to y-you, asshole?” She’s absolutely shaking, her fingers look purple. “I’m so sorry—C’mon, it’s warm in the truck.” He reaches for her hand, but she snaps it away from him like he might burn her. “I c-can get o-out on my own.” She can and does, wobbles on her too tall heels and starts to head towards the running truck. Joel grabs the door for her and she sneers at him—yeah, yeah—he deserves that. He closes the door behind her and runs over to the other side. When he jumps in, she’s got her hands pressed against the heater while she relishes in the welcomed heat.

He pulls away from her trapped car, he’ll come back for it when the snow has cleared up a little bit, but for now—it’s too dangerous to try and yank it out just for it to get stuck in the road because it has no traction. It's ten agonizing minutes of silence while Joel taps his fingers against the steering wheel, trying his damndest to keep a close eye on the woman beside him. She’s warming herself up and thawing out that burning rage Joel knows is inside of her. When they get closer to the driveway, she starts to fire off. “You takin’ me to some backwoods shack to tie me up and keep me?” He scoffs and looks out the windshield, trying to keep the truck steady in the snow.

“If I was going to tie up and keep some girl, I’d make sure she was less bitchy.” She growls at him, growls lowly and it actually does the job, makes his skin prick in goosebumps while he drives. “Wouldn’t be so bitchy if you didn’t leave me on the side of the road. You know I could have died, right?” He is painfully, agonizingly aware of that fact. “I came back, didn’t I?” The driveway is in view, a long fenced path up to the old farm house. “How’d you know I was comin’ here?” Her voice is a tad quieter now, less abrasive on his ears.

“Cus’ I’m comin’ here too.” He says quietly, halfway hoping it won't reach her ears, but her mom was right—she is quick, smart too. “You’re Joel, aren’t you?” She laughs menacingly, crossing her arms across her body and her left leg over her right with a scoff. “You know, my parents said it was Tommy I wouldn’t like. Said you were this big southern gentlemen.” She laughs a little harder, looking over at Joel. “They were half worried they’d have to chase me out of your bed, that you were right up my alley. My daddy said you were the type to charm any woman’s pants off. Guess they don’t know you like they thought they do, huh? Under all that chivalrous facade is just another self centered, selfish cowboy.”

Joel shuts off the truck and glances over at her. “Look, I’m real sorry. First impressions aren’t my strong suit, got a thing for people who don’t belong out here. Didn’t know you were their kid. Would’ve pulled your car out if I’d known.” She opens the door of the cab and steps out into the snow. “So you’re only a good person when someone’s lookin’, I’ll keep that in mind, dickhead.”

She slams the door and storms off towards the house while Joel slumps against the wheel with his head in his hands. Fuck…if it’s not Tommy risking their welcome, their jobs, then it was him, making an absolute ass of himself in-front of the bosses daughter. The bosses fiery, too good—too good looking—

“Son of a bitch!”

—

He gets into the house ten minutes after she does, his hands stuffed in his pockets and half expecting her parents to kick him out right then and there. He pretty much told her to fuck off and left her to freeze to death. There’s no doubt in his mind that they would have found her dead in the morning, the temperature was below freezing already.

To his surprise, it's quiet when he gets inside. Hank and Louise are in the dining room with their daughter, laughing and smiling and surprised to see her, to see her with Joel. “And he just found you there?” She looks so…so..chipper standing there beside her dad with her arm on his shoulder while he sits at the table. “Yep, got my car stuck because I was texting, I know—not bright.” She sounds so fucking fake and dramatic in her tone, Joel’s hands flex and unflex. “And I couldn’t get out and find a signal because of my stupid fucking shoes. I probably would have died there if not for…good ol’ Joel.” She cocks her head with this shit eating grin on her face that makes Joel's gut clench up and his heart pound.

This fucking bitch—is she blackmailing him right now? In those stupid fucking pants and that top he’s finally getting a glimpse at—and then…shit…

Look at you…just—his brain is going haywire right now. He hates your fucking guts right about now but his brain makes other notes about your guts and its desire to be in them—and that tight ass shirt with your tits just pourin’ out of it—Jesus CHRIST, Joel, get it together here.

He shakes his head, bites the inside of his cheek and meets your eyes, everyone else is looking at you, but you’re looking at him, fully aware of the way his eyes just ate your body up for dessert until he was stuffed. “Real winner you guys have here, mom and dad…real winner.”

If there’s one thing Joel is certain of, it’s that he is in big, big fucking trouble.

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Welcome to the Murder Husband and Murder Family language of flowers fanfiction collection, Words Are Not The Only Way.

This collection will be posted on AO3 and feature stories with the theme of the language flowers.

The collection will open by 3:00 PM Eastern Standard Time on March 19th, 2024. The spring equinox.

⬇️ List of rules and flowers below the cut. ⬇️

The rules are simple: Claim a flower from the list posted below, and write a story featuring the flower and its meaning. It can be a Will/Hannibal, Will & Hannibal, Will & Abigail, Hannibal & Abigail, or Will & Hannibal & Abigail.

What is NOT allowed is Abigail paired with Will or Hannibal, or smut. Sexual content is allowed, so long as it is non-graphic, cut to black, or implied. No Explicit fics are allowed, unless it's for canon-typical violence.

AUs are allowed, including omega verse and mpreg.

Original child characters may be mentioned, so long as they are not the main focus of the story.

Past pairings are allowed, or Will/Molly and Will/Margot and Hannibal/Bedelia and Hannibal/Alana to follow canon, but otherwise, Murder Husbands. No thruples or anything, please. No crossovers or anything within the HEU. Keep it Hannibal.

Stories may be any length you wish.

Flowers are claimed on a first come, first served basis. Please put your claim in the notes below. I will make a list of who has claimed which and attach it. If more people would like to participate, I will add more flowers. Many flowers have many different meanings, so you may pick one meaning among the others, or choose to incorporate them all. That is up to you.

FLOWERS

Rosemary- Remembrance (This one is claimed by me)

Zinnia- I mourn your absence, friendship, endurance, daily remembrance, goodness, lasting affection

Snowdrop- Hope

Lilac- First emotions of love, happiness, tranquility

Hyacinth- Forgiveness and sorrow (purple), desire (general)

Eglantine Rose- Pleasure and pain

Butterfly Weed- Let me go

Cyclamen- Resignation, diffidence, goodbye

Lavender- Distrust, serenity

Marigold- Grief, jealousy

Peony- Bashfulness, happy life, shame

Salvia- I think of you (blue), forever mine (red)

Bittersweet- Truth

Hellebore- Anxiety

White Rosebud- Girlhood

Petunia- Anger, resentment, your presence soothes me

Amaryllis- Pride

Forsythia- Anticipation

Lady's Mantle- Comfort, I am here for you

Willow- Sorrow

Honeysuckle- True happiness, good fortune, sweetness toward one another

The flowers themselves can appear in many different forms, too! In the garden, bouquets, out in the wild, spotted at the florist, made into a tea, in a drawing, as a scent; anything you like! If it's in tea or food, make sure it isn't poisonous, unless your goal is death or sickness. Have fun!

[simothys]

21 for whomever you want!!

21. Listening to someone’s heartbeat. VinZaz. ~400 words.

is it cheating that i used an old half-finished work for this? anyways, it’s sad. vincent being trapped in the narrative of a tragedy au time. under a cut bc i’m shy + don’t know if it’ll be long on here?

The window lets in just enough moonlight to illuminate his boyfriend’s sleeping face. Only dappled light breaches the canopy above, and that light teases Azazel’s freckles. Vincent sighs softly, barely a whisper of breath. He knows how this ends. They both do.

The details are fuzzy, of course. Whether he is killed in fierce combat with the Pontifex (blood dripping from wounds across his body, the clinical light of her weapon bearing down on him - he has to squint to see his last moments) or if Vikius herself decides her toy has served his purpose (crushing briars and the cloying scent of honeysuckle as he struggles, desperately, to breathe). He tries not to think about how he will die, really.

Come morning, he will stumble blearily out into the living area. While gearing up, he will check his thigh holster for the dagger he knows isn’t there. The dagger he knows has a new home, now. He will notice its absence. But, for now, he has the night.

He settles back into bed from his perch on the edge. Zaz stirs, but quickly falls back asleep with a comforting hush from Vincent. Zaz’s hair, normally pulled back into a low ponytail, darkly haloes him against the pillow. With sleep still cradling him, he shifts closer to Vincent.

Vincent lays his head upon Zaz’s chest gently, careful to tuck his dark hair away from Zaz’s face. He can’t wake him. He deserves a good night’s rest, free of disturbances, and free of reminders. Vincent can’t remind him this is the last night they’ll spend together. He can’t remind him they won’t have the chance to bicker over simple irritants anymore, such as Vincent accidentally putting his hair on Zaz’s face when he sleeps, not that they had much time to bicker as a couple to begin with. So, he’s careful.

Zaz’s heart beats slowly, drumming softly below Vincent. He can feel it more than he can hear it, as is the nature of heartbeats and heartaches. It reminds him of the footfalls of the two of them as children, dancing barefoot through the orchard, plum juice running down their chins. Soft and light, yet joyous — a fierce declaration of life. He curls up closer, a silent reply to his heart’s declaration of sorrow.

Vincent doesn’t dream, but, lately, he wishes he could. In the darkness of night, he would have dreamt of the warmth of a home kitchen in Mirinath, the aromatic spice blend of home, and an infinite amount of nights like these with his lover in his arms. The dark, dreamlessness of sleep envelops him, and the harsh morning is merely a concept once more.

[gffa]

So I saw your answer about Obidala the other day and I was trying to find the fic that got me into that ship, because I'm a recent convert, and it's a fic called Come What May where its a Modern AU

I haven’t read much Obidala fic lately (not for any particular reason, I just go in cycles/I’ve had other fic champing at the bit for me), but I’m intrigued by your rec!  I’ll check it out and fFor those curious: ✦ Come What May by Labyrinth_Runner, obi-wan/padme & cast, modern au, 33.3k wip Obi-Wan's a Law student just trying to navigate his way to his degree while helping his roommate Anakin stay out of trouble. What will happen when a new neighbor, Padmé, moves in across the hall? Plus, while we’re on the subject, here are some of the Obidala fics I’ve enjoyed! ✦ Keep Breathing by Yesac, obi-wan/padme + some anakin/padme + luke & leia & oc, 45.8k      Padme doesn't die at the end of Revenge of the Sith. Instead, she decides to take the twins and join Obi-Wan in exile. ✦Anamorphosis by saltyavocado, obi-wan/padme & anakin & cast, 33.5k      A distorted or monstrous projection or representation of an image on a plane or curved surface, which, when viewed from a certain point, or as reflected from a curved mirror or through a polyhedron, appears regular and in proportion; a deformation of an image. ✦ Circles by ambiguously, obi-wan/padme & luke & leia & anakin + past anakin/padme, 4.2k      Padmé and Obi-Wan raise the twins together while hiding from the Empire. ✦ Sea Change by sevenofspade, obi-wan/padme & anakin, 3.9k      Padmé Amidala is accompanied by Obi-Wan Kenobi to Naboo and Anakin Skywalker is the galaxy's worst detective. ✦ Lights Will Guide You Home by darlingargents, obi-wan/padme & potential obi-wan/anakin/padme & luke/ezra & leia & ahsoka & cast, 27.3k wip     Obi-Wan knew that if he didn’t leave now, Padmé would die.  And so he made his decision. ✦ Therefore Must the Soul Deceive by Mithrigil, obi-wan/padme & anakin & cast, 6.9k     Some falls from grace take time. ✦ you're gonna wish you never had met me by cosmicocean, obi-wan/padme & leia/han & luke & cast, 13k       Leia Kenobi, struggling to keep her head above water. ✦ Resurrection by Lefaym, obi-wan/padme & cast, 1.1k      It's hard to adapt to life as a dead woman. But not everyone sees her that way. Not quite. ✦ recovery by dadcastellanos, obi-wan/padme, 1.8k      Padmé survives the loss of Anakin and goes into hiding with Obi-Wan. Slowly, slowly, they make something of their new lives together. ✦ Fate, Inexorable by imadra_blue, Luthe, obi-wan/padme + anakin/padme + implied obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 9.1k     When Anakin is kidnapped by Separatists during the Clone Wars, Padmé accompanies Obi-Wan to rescue him. On a strange trio of planets, they search for him, drawing closer in their mutual fear for Anakin. The bonds that form will not be strong enough to face the future that awaits them in Revenge of the Sith. ✦ The Right Time by dreamiflame, obi-wan/padme, NSFW, 2.3k      Padmé lives AU. While working together for the Rebellion, Padmé and Obi-Wan grow closer. ✦ untitled + untitled by bedlamsbard, obi-wan/padme(/anakin?),NSFW, dark!obi-wan, 5.7k       Backstory: The Republic has fallen. The Jedi Order is broken, its surviving Knights and padawans scattered across the galaxy. The Sith lord Count Dooku has declared himself the leader of a new Galactic Empire. ✦ turn my sorrow into treasured gold by cosmicocean, obi-wan/padme & luke & leia, 15.6k       Padmé survives childbirth, dies as far as the rest of the galaxy is concerned, takes her children with Obi-Wan, and runs. ✦ To Find I'm Not Alone + Wrestling the Angels and the Devils in my Head by MorganEilish, obi-wan/padme & luke & leia, 6k       Padme survived Anakin's betrayal, faked her death, and fled to the distant corners of the galaxy with Obi Wan to raise her children. ✦Oft Falling by kylohen, obi-wan/padme,NSFW, 10.5k       Every few months, whenever he can, Obi-Wan sends flowers to the Coruscant apartments of Senator Padmé Amidala. There's a reason for this that he can never explain, except to her. If anyone else knew, it would ruin him. ✦Old Sins Cast Long Shadows by zarabithia, ahsoka & obi-wan & anakin & padme (& building background obi-wan/padme), 16.6k       In this universe, when Palpatine asks if Anakin is going to kill him, Anakin does. While Anakin ultimately wins, it costs him his life. In this universe, the twins are raised by Ahsoka, Padmé, and Obi-Wan. ✦Time to Go by JediShampoo, obi-wan/padme & cast, 4.9k       Obi-Wan is leaving Alderaan and taking Luke with him. He and Padme must say their goodbyes. Stuff happens. ✦Primrose, Honeysuckle, Daffodil by ambiguously, obi-wan/padme (hinted) & anakin & qui-gon, 4.7k       While Qui-Gon recuperates from his battle with Darth Maul, Obi-Wan teaches Anakin his first early lessons in using the Force, and discovers the Force may have other plans for all of them. ✦Under a Cloud by thisbluespirit, obi-wan/padme & qui-gon & cast, 4.2k      It's been hundreds of years, and nobody believes in the Jedi any more. ✦Raising Up Hope by dreamiflame, obi-wan/padme, 1.5k       Family is what you make of it. Padmé, Obi-Wan and the twins are trying to make it work. ✦Refuge by Ljparis, rainydayadvocate, obi-wan/padme, 2k       On Mustafar, Padmé takes matters into her own hands. Obi-Wan is there for her when the dust settles. ✦The Pleasures of Life by AngelQueen, obi-wan/padme,NSFW, 6.2k       During her early months as a Senator, an irritating soirée takes an interesting, unexpected turn for Padmé. ✦Let My Second Love Be Kind by nichestars, obi-wan/padme & cast, 3.1k       When Padmé holds her children in her arms for the first time, she thinks: This is the fewest number of beings with which I have been entrusted since I was twelve years old. ✦Rumpled Collar by Corde_And_Dorme, obi-wan/padme (/anakin?) & cast, white collar fusion, 3.4k       The White Collar! AU that absolutely NOBODY asked for except one Discord channel like... months ago. ✦Little Lies by ambiguously, obi-wan/padme,NSFW, ~1k       It's just sex. That's what he tells himself. ✦Deferment by saltyavocado, obi-wan/padme & anakin, 5.4k      "This was my favorite room," Padmé says. "I used to send you messages from that very comm unit, you know. My handmaidens thought it was terribly romantic, so I never let them read the actual messages. They would've been devastated to discover that we really were talking aboutpolitics."

[cathrynemoon]

GingerRose Week 2021 Round-up

I made seven gifsets for the event and I’m really proud of myself! I’m open to making more gifsets! Because we don’t have a lot of those in the Gingerrose fandom. So if anyone has any ideas, quotes or concepts for Gingerrose gifsets, my inbox is open.

Here’s a list and links to everything I made for this year’s event.

Day 1: Dandelion: Returned affection, desire and faithfulness Quote used: “[She] was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. [He] was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her.” — Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Day 2: Wild Rose: Pleasure and pain Quote used: “After the First Order paid DJ for delivering us to them, this arrogant general named Hux came to gloat over our impending deaths. He pointed at my medallion and said it brought back memories—and then he dared to call my people vermin. So I bit his finger—hard. Not because I thought it could save us, but because I wanted to leave a mark on him—a scar that would make him remember Otomok, and me.” — Rose Tico: Resistance Fighter by Jason Fry

Day 3: Magnolia: A love of nature Modern AU. Beach days with friends and family.

Day 4: Morning Glory: Unending love Quote used: “If other universes exist I hope we’re happy somewhere. That there are universes where history doesn’t pull us apart and we become a tragic story full of sorrow and regret. [...] I know in this story we could never belong to each other, but if there is another universe, another story, another us I hope we can love each other until our dying day.” — history became cruel to star-crossed lovers, they could never end up happy | our violent ends.//t.c

Day 5: Daisy: Innocence and hope Childhood friends. High school sweethearts. Total nerds. Separated by college and a continent, Rose and Armie reconnect after she moves to his city for an exciting new job at a robotics company. Armie is an unhappy corporate lawyer for an oil company trying to make a change in his life. They catch up as he shows her around the city. And some old feelings return. (Check the notes for a spicy bonus gif!)

Day 6: Hollyhock: Ambition Quote used: “I don't want your prayers,” he said. “What do you want, then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s Snoke’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej Rose. You. — Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Day 7: Honeysuckle: The bonds of love Quote used: “I’ll take care of you.” “It’s rotten work.” “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

[thebiasrekkers]

Summer’s End  [HCS]

Title: Summer's End

Pairing: God of Peaceful Death!Chansung x OC

Genre: Greek God AU, Comfort, A smidgen of angst

Word Count: 628

TW: Mentions of death

Rating PG/R? (Mentions of death involved)

Greek God: Thanatos

Summary: Death is only the beginning on a soul's journey to reach old friends and lovers.

©thebiasrekkers ( Admin L). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

The ocean had looked so peaceful.  The sound of the lapping waves was a constant noise,  soothing. Clear water sparkled as it moved, the tide was slowly starting to come in. Every once in a while, the water would touch her bare feet as she stood on the hot sand. The cooling feeling that it produced helped to relax her more.

It seemed like she was there for quite a while when the thought hit her. How did she get there? She would have remembered driving out that far, wouldn't she? The empty space in her memory started to plant a series of worrisome thoughts, distressed at the lack of information. Soon even the gentle waves were like a terrible reminder of the current situation. 

Honeysuckle and magnolia drifted into her senses. Much like the waves, the subtle smell wanted to calm and soothe. There was a sense of another causing her to turn around. A tall man was there, hands in the pockets of a flowy white outfit. Eyes wide open, the dark irises that understood everything and plump lips that it itched to talk. He stepped up to her, barefoot as well to enjoy the company and the view.

"Your view is so peaceful. Have you been here before?" His low voice carried weight but had a hint of playfulness that made her own mouth twitch up. 

"Yes." She paused after that immediate answer, "No. Well, I have but I don't remember it being so clear and less crowded. But it's been so long that it could have cleared up."

He hummed and turned his attention back to the clear water. A peaceful silence seemed to blanket them in its embrace and neither one could tell how long it went on for. His deep voice eased its way between them.

“Dear one, I wish we could stay here forever but you know we can’t.”

She turned around to him, suddenly afraid. A beeping could be heard and he took her hand before she could look towards it. He smiled and gently squeezed it, pulling her along.

“I died, didn’t I?” She finally asked. Sorrow started to build and her feet didn’t want to move. “I was fighting for so long but I failed…”

He stopped and looked up to the sky, as if he was deep in thought. With a sigh, he turned to her and smiled.

“I am Thanatos but you know me as Chansung. I am the God of Peaceful Death and I have known you for several lifetimes.”

Images flashed by, a little girl and boy playing in the sand. The girl insisting on being the Prince to protect him. Them being a little older, both crying cause she was moving away. Getting a letter to meet up many years later. Their first kiss, so nervous and ending up knocking over the soda nearby. More images but the ones that came by were them in other types of clothes, other places and other times.

“You didn’t fail in your struggle. It was simply time to rest from such a plight. I am always here, to give you love and peace because fate has tied us together. I am grateful for it.”

She wanted to cry but he reached out to stroke her cheek before the tears came. It was a relief and her heart recognized him with so much joy. She didn’t feel afraid anymore as she gave him a warm hug. They embraced there in the sand and sunny sky, old friends after so long. 

“Let’s go. I want to be with you forever.”

He smiled and led her along the long beach. Their figures faded like wisps in the wind while the beach gently lapped at its borders. No more sadness or pain, just peace.

[windup-dragoon]

Devour

|| FFXIV write - 2020

|| Prompt #23 - Shuffle

|| Modern AU -- Heart Eater AU 

|| wol x Hien

|| 902 words

|| Heart Eater - A new AU where Kirishimi, a guardian of the Rijin clan, is believed to be hazard to the clan and is promptly sealed away for hundreds of years. At least until Hien’s grandfather passes away, leaving his grandson a puzzle box and a bracelet. After some time curiously studying the box, Hien figures the puzzle out and releases the sealed kitsune. Having sworn revenge on the clan who imprisoned her, Kirishimi makes it clear that she intends to eat Hien’s heart to make herself stronger. But under the protection of the bracelet his grandfather gifted him, the fox is left with no other option; she’s forced to live with him until he slips up.

“Kiri?” A shuffle of blankets caused him to stir from his slumber, squinting against the moonlight that pooled across the room. 

As suspected, his futon was no longer his own. Nestled close but kept separated by the blankets, the kitsune laid her head on a sliver of pillow beside him. In his half conscious state of mind he could have sworn her silvery hair was part of the moon itself, her tails and ears highlighted in a effervescent glow. She looked like starlight given form. Strands of white fell across her features but still he felt her eyes on him. 

He blew out a sigh and carefully rolled onto his side to face her. Even with her face casted in shadow, her back to the window, her two toned eyes were aglow in the darkness. Such fiery red and gentle blue beneath thick lashes. Hien swallowed, forcing himself to look anywhere else but her. At the dark corners of his apartment, to the blinking stars just beyond his window; anywhere but the woman clad in his spare clothing. 

“If you’re here to eat my heart,” Hien spoke softly, just shy of a whisper that had her ears twitch in his direction. “Can you at least wait until after my exams?” 

The fox in return blinked. She wrinkled her nose, nuzzling her cheek against the scrap of pillow she had stolen. “It’s cold...” Her usual gruffness had dissolved, replaced with a snowy softness he hadn’t heard before. Distant, but gentle somehow. 

Her reply gave the young man a smile. “Then turn the AC  off...” 

“But it’s stuffy in here without it....” 

“How did you ever survive before technology?” He hummed, an airy chuckle on his lips. 

“Fresh mountain air in the summer...” She replied in her faraway, thoughtful tone. Perhaps conjuring images of a landscape that no longer existed in this world. He felt a pang of sorrow deep in his gut at the thought, but said nothing. The kitsune at his side inched closer, childishly pulling on a corner of his blanket. “... And heat in winter...” 

Although her answer was far from satisfactory, Hien humored her by lifting his blanket and pulling it over her shoulders. What did she mean exactly by heat? Fire? Blankets? Or... Body heat? He felt his cheeks begin to burn at the thought, the tips of his ears following in suit when her knees bumped his beneath the blankets; her breath hot against his neck and collarbone. She curled in close, her tails sweeping across both their legs. 

“...Promise you won’t get hungry in the middle of the night and eat me?” 

Beneath her lashes he could see mismatched eyes staring up at him in the darkness. “Only if ya’ make more abura-age.” 

“My wallet is crying, you know.” 

“Tell it to suck it up because I want clothes as well. Not yer hand-me-downs.” 

Hien grinned, overjoyed to hear that she wanted to wear clothing at all. It had been a struggle that afternoon just to put her in a spare set of shorts and tank top as she whined about the heat. 

“Fine... Anything is better than the landlord claiming he saw a naked woman in the window.” 

“The one with the tiny spectacles? How on Hydaelyn did he even see me from so far away?” 

“So you were naked in front of the window? Thanks, Kiri.” 

The woman beside him huffed, burying her face against his chest in an absentminded motion. Hien’s heart leapt into his throat as her forehead connected to his collarbone, the tips of her lusciously soft ears at his chin and twitching from his beard. She smelled like a summer afternoon; honeysuckles caught in a rainstorm. The wildfire of color across his cheeks only darkened, threatening to consume him in fluttering heartbeats and dizzying thoughts. 

“If it bugs ya’...” She began softly, a murmur against his chest. Scarcely he could feel the movement of her lips, so close as she was to him, he struggled to swallow. “...I won’t be caught dancin’ in the window again-” 

An abrupt snort silenced Kirishimi and had Hien’s senses finally returning to him. “You were dancing?” 

The woman beside him went rigid. “I- W-Well yes... Maybe! What does that matter?” 

In a hurry she was propped up on her elbow, their shared blanket slowly descending off her shoulder. Her ears were lowered defensively and in the moonlight he saw the pout etched across her face, cheeks dusted with embarrassment as she looked away sheepishly. 

“It doesn’t really. Kinda sounds cute though.” Hien gave the fox a lazy but heartfelt smile. She had been so determined to put on a frightening air for him. Eater of Hearts. The very reason the Rijin clan disliked foxes of any sort. The terrible catastrophe itself... Admitting to dancing naked in his apartment. 

Kiri chewed on her bottom lip, piercing eyes glaring at him. But at last she shifted, throwing herself back down unto the bedding but with her back to him now. Another of many little tantrums the fearsome kitsune threw. 

It was an absentminded action, one he would later blame on his own exhaustion; despite her dismissive behavior, he draped his arm around her and pulled her close. He already missed the invasion of his personal space, so warm and gentle. 

And human. 

As her back met his chest he whispered softly, 

“You’re free to do as you please, Kirishimi.” 

[paperstorm]

Amaryllis

A Stucky Royalty AU, set in fictional kingdoms in the 19th century. Enemies to friends to lovers. 70k words. Rated Explicit. Featuring Princes Steve and Bucky, Valet Sam, Stable Boy Thor, Maid Natasha, Heir Apparent Peggy, Barmaid Wanda, and Princess Shuri. Also featuring a slow burn romance, gratuitous flower metaphors, and a happily ever after. Completed.

Chapters:

Tulip (Royalty)

Anthurium (Hospitality)

Peony (Anger)

Carnation (Pride)

Rosemary (Healing)

Protea (Transformation)

Pear Blossom (Friendship)

Iris (Good News)

Pansy (Free Thinker)

Cyclamen (Sorrowful Parting)

Lilac (New Love)

Chrysanthemum (The Sun)

Camellia (Destiny)

Gardenia (Secret Love)

Honeysuckle (Happiness)

Rose (Desire)

Edelweiss (Courage)

Willow (Sorrow)

Begonia (Coming Danger)

Anemone (Fading Hope)

Daffodil (Rebirth)

[marshmallowprotection]

Honeysuckle

Author’s note: It’s been two months since Judas and Minji came to fruition and it’s thanks to the Vampire AU. I found the spark to update and I took it! Enjoy! 

(READ ON AO3)

Description: Fate seemed to have other plans in store for Saeran and Saeyoung Choi then what they ever expected. One path that is bathed in the light and the other is drowned in the darkness. They are taking different roads and what will happen when those roads diverge? One time will tell their fates and if they’re destined to be happy or wrought with sorrow.

Vampire AU.

Pairing(s): Choi Saeran/Original Female Character(s), Choi Saeran/Original Female Character(s), Choi Luciel/Main Character/Original Male Character(s)

Past Chapters: Chapter Three | [TBA]

Act IV

“Haha… come on, you mustn't really think that I’m gonna let you off the hook that easy.” 

“Alright, you got me. I won’t steal your H.B.C.”

“Thank you, Luciel. That’s the least that you can do after I nursed you back to health like a cute baby birdie! You ask nicely when you want to have some of my food, okay?” 

“Aye, aye, captain! May I pretty-pretty please have some of your H.B.C.?” 

“Mmm, sure, space cadet, this time I’ll share with you. Next time, though, I might change my mind about sharing with you.” 

It had been a few months since this girl had saved him from meeting an untimely end and he had settled into her life as if she had been the puzzle piece that he had been missing. As if he was supposed to be there the entire time. Minji was a sweetheart and had allowed him to come and see her whenever he wanted a break. 

He would find himself coming to see her more and more throughout the time they had met. It would be at least once a week at first but it had soon turned into him practically living at her place for half of the week. 

Luciel had found safety in the household of Minji Cho. She was a kind and caring girl that had left the family business of hunting behind as soon as she could escape. She had been raised to end the undead lives of monsters that she did not see the monster within. 

She did not believe that all vampires were evil creatures but she understood Luciel’s drive but she did not judge him for what he did. But, she did inspire him to look more deeply into what was happening around him when he was on a hunt. 

Were they truly causing problems or were they just trying to survive? 

Most of his cases from his agency were given to him because people were dying and things had to be covered up. But, there were a few that made him… question things. It didn’t stop his drive to get rid of them but it did make him uneasy. 

You had to cut yourself away from the fact that these beasts were once human to be able to do the job they did. Vanderwood made that clear with him when they told him how they had to kill people they once knew because they were changed. So, that notion combined with the humanity that Minji asked him to look for? 

A recipe for disaster, honestly. 

Humanity was supposed to be one way. The undead was supposed to be another way. It was supposed to be black and white, lines are drawn at the center and nothing more and nothing less. Hearing that someone could have faith in what was supposed to be a growling monster in the dead of the night was enough to make you think.

Minji swore up and down to him that not all vampires were to blame for the disasters. She had been rescued by one when she was young, she wouldn’t go into detail, but she made it clear that the vampire that saved her had a big heart. Their eyes had not been those of a monster, she claimed, they had been warm and full of concern.  

How could you ever think they were evil and simply that when one saved a little girl? 

Luciel didn’t understand but he didn’t argue with Minji’s opinion. He had simply been taught to believe another thing than what she had been taught. He had seen blood-red eyes and he had felt claws against his throat too many times to think otherwise on the matter. Minji would not lie to him, but the fact of the matter was—

Vampires had come too close to killing him more than once for him to think they were anything more than monsters. 

Nevertheless, he continued to march forward and do the job that he had sworn to do no matter what. 

He tried to push that notion away when he was with Minji. He wanted to enjoy the time that he got with her and he refused to waste a second. She needed to be kept away from everything that he was involved in. Nobody knew about her at all, not Vanderwood, not the agency, not the RFA members that he had come to know over the past few months. 

He would keep it that way. 

Love was a liability in his field. Having a family or loved ones meant that if a vampire knew what was close to you… they would destroy them one by one, or worse… things he didn’t want to even consider as an option.

He would not put her in danger and he would not let anyone get their hands on this woman. She deserved to be happy and to know a life without distress. Minji had had enough when she was a child and she had a right to enjoy her life. He made sure that she was safe. No vampires or humans would make trouble for her again as long as he was around. 

After all, Minji was just too perfect and too kind for him to ignore. 

Her hands on his face when she fretted and coaxed over his wounds had been enough to cement his need to have her near him. Any person that saw him dressed up and bloodied and yet had the kindness to take him home to help clean him up was a true saint. She thought that he was cute and wasted no time making that fact known. 

As a matter of fact, in his state of delirium, she had commented that he was pretty, no matter what he identified as. If he had been in the right state of mind, he would have been tongue-tied and flustered by those words. 

Minji just knew how to make a situation feel less like a mess and more like it was going to be okay. It had taken her a while to get him stitched up but she managed to take care of everything in a jiffy. She made a hell of a nurse. When he asked later how she knew how to do that, she only had a sad look in her eyes, when she said she learned when she was a young girl.

He didn’t need to know more after that. 

When he kept coming back to see her after she helped him, it was with the excuse that he needed to be patched up, but he knew that he could have handled it himself. He felt indebted to her kindness but she would not take anything from him. So, he offered his services when he did come around to see her to make up for it. 

She easily got a cute maid to clean up her apartment. 

Hanging around Minji was easy. It was easy to talk to her and he had nothing to worry about except just being himself around her. She didn’t ask questions and she didn’t pry but she did let him know that anything could be on the table if he needed to vent. He didn’t dump things on her but he did like that she was happy to listen. 

Today, for example, she was gladly giving him a distraction from his last mission. 

Her blonde hair was tucked back into a high ponytail and a sweater had been tossed over her shoulders when he showed up early in the morning with a few scrapes and bruises. He cleaned himself up and she cooked breakfast in the meantime. It was no different than any other time that he had found himself in her company. 

Minji teased him and played around when he ate.

It was warm and filling, so much unlike what he had often made for himself. Quick, fast, and easy. That was the way that he lived his life and tasting something that had been made low and slow with love tasted all that much better.

“Better?” Minji smiled when he practically licked the plate clean. 

“Much,” Luciel nodded. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” she took his plates from him and began to clean them in the sink. Her back was to him as she hummed underneath her breath. “You should probably get some rest too, okay? I don’t think you’ve had any tonight. You can borrow my bed for a while.”

“Only if you join me,” he said, rising from the table. 

He strode across the room and rested his hands around her waist with his forehead resting against her back. Minji was a little taller than he was, so he couldn’t quite peek over her shoulder but he could do this. Press his lips against the back of her neck to make her shiver and laugh. 

“Luciel!” she scolded him, “What happened to waiting for marriage?” 

“I just wanted to cuddle,” Luciel chuckled. “If you want to do more, I don’t think that would be all that hard either, baby.” 

She made her own sputtered sound when he pushed her buttons, groaning and giggling at his attempts to knock her off her feet. “Don’t tease, Lucy. I’ll make you pay for these crimes later if that’s the game you want to play.” 

“Oh? Is my kitten dangerously close to thinking on the dark side?” he asked her with a smile. “I dare say that’s the most sadistic thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

Minji turned around in his arms and wrapped her arms around him, “Well, you did wake me up earlier then I’m used to… and you know I’m awake when the sun rises on the horizon, Lucy. You should make it up to me somehow if that’s what we’re playing, and I think cuddling is a fair price for me making you breakfast, don’t you think?”

“Alright, alright. I owe you,” he caved. 

“That’s what I thought,” she said. 

The two of them erupted into laughter together as the cicadas hummed outside the window of her apartment. It was a lovely moment and something that he had longed craved. Enjoying the warmth of somebody’s love is something that he never thought that he would ever be able to experience but being here was enough for him. 

Feeling Minji’s arms around him was all that he needed to keep on living. 

She made no judgments, she only sought to ensure that he was taking care of himself like he promised he would do. Luciel could not have felt happier than he did when he was with Minji. 

He prayed this time he had with her would not ever come to an end. A few years of living in peace like this was ahead of him from this point but this moment of bliss would not last forever, unfortunately. As a matter of fact, it would be three years before this momentary reprieve would be forced to come to a close. 

And Luciel did not know the storm that was awaiting him at the end of this tunnel. 

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Three years. 

It had been three years since Lila had been attacked that faithful night and Saeran had no choice but to transform her into a creature like himself to save her life. He did it during the heat of the moment, and he had no known if it would even work to save her life. 

He had gotten lucky and gotten to her just in time to induce the process. 

The back of his mind was still haunted by the sight of her small body, parlor, and nearly torn to shreds on the dirt like a broken toy left to rot, her hair dampened and clumped up with dried blood leaking from her head, and her brown eyes almost looking through him as she tried to croak something that he could not understand. 

How he had desperately gripped her hands and had to sink his teeth into every part of her body that he could reach as her pulse started to slow down more and more by the moment. 

It had taken nearly two weeks for her body to come to grips with the venom that he had injected and when she awoke, brown eyes gone and replaced with a ruby red, he feared that she would feel the same thirst and lack of control that he had been pressured to give into. Yet, she stared at him, obviously parched but she was still there. 

The woman that he had come to love was still inside of her body. 

She was just a little different now. No longer a petite human who was clumsy and constantly getting hurt because she did everything for her family. She was now a creature of the night, a vampire just as he was, damned to live forever and survive on the blood of others to live. She was no longer hurt, however, and that was what made the guilt lessen. 

Lila had been suffering, so terribly, and had it not been for him, she would have been dead long before he came into her life. They were both okay with this fate as it was now. He had no choice, and she had no choice of what would come. But, they had each other and as long as they had each other, things would be okay. 

At least, Saeran wanted to believe that. 

After he had taken the time to help her quench her thirst as best as he could, the two of them talked about what had happened that night. He had wanted to know who had harmed her and nearly left her for dead. Lila could remember nothing but green eyes and blonde hair before she started screaming and her vision went black. 

Saeran’s stomach twisted in knots when she said that. 

He knew who had tried to harm the woman that he loved and he knew that neither of them was going to be safe if they stayed in this place. It was at that point that he had to be honest with Lila about who he had run away from and why. 

Some of the details… he couldn’t talk about them at length, not even now. 

But, he let Lila know that he had been changed against his will one night and been used as a science experience more or less for a few months. How Rika would not stop until he went back to that place on his accord and that he was the reason that she had been hurt. 

The guilt of that still bothered him, even to this day. 

Now, they were living on the run, going town to town, and exploring the world together as normal as they could seem to the eyes of humans. To anyone that caught a glimpse of them during the evening, they would have seen an average couple holding hands, but if they looked hard enough on a bad day they would see red eyes. 

The thirstier you are, the more red appears, after all. 

Today, Saeran was trying to sort out where they should go next as they had been staying in this most recent location far too long. It was the season where the sun stayed out for such a long time and it was hard to travel at night when your hours were limited. 

They made the best of it, though, it just was not always easy if eyes were starting to be raised. 

Animal blood only sustained a vampire for so long and it would run out of their system much quicker than the blood of a human. 

Still, neither of them wanted to use that option unless they had no other choice but to do that. 

“Saeran,” she said, reaching over to brush her hand against his leg. “You need to rest.” 

They were sitting together in their dingy hotel room on the bed as Saeran poured over his phone to see what he could find. It was hard to hide the trail when both of them were up against an entire group of vampires instead of simply one. They knew what to look for and they could only hide so much when they made a mess. 

“Technically, I don’t need any rest,” he said, quietly. “I realize you’re concerned but I promise I’m alright. As long as you’re with me, I never tire.” 

“That’s always your excuse,” Lila leaned her head against his shoulder. “I know you can handle yourself but you’ve been taking care of us for such a long time. It’ll be alright. I’m sure you’ll be able to find the next safe spot from them.”

“About that…” he trails. 

Lila frowns. 

Saeran looks back at her with that look in his eyes that says he’s got something to say that he’s not happy about saying. He hesitates and then speaks. “About that, I think I have something but I need to go ahead to scout things out first. It’s too dangerous to take you with me because of that last close call we had.”

“So you want me to wait here for you,” she said, quietly. 

He shook his head. “No, I know you would hate to do that. I have a meeting spot that I’ve ensured is safe that I want you to head to. I can’t leave you here knowing they could already be onto us. I don’t put it back her to send hunters, either. So, I need you to keep moving while I make sure that we have a safe place to go.”

Saeran interlocked his fingers with her own. 

Hers were still so small in his. But, there was a firmness in them now that was not there when she was a human. She could fight off anyone she wanted to if it came down to it, but he did not want her to have to go to that means. As long as he could protect her, she would not have to fight. 

“You’re strong,” she affirms. “I’m so proud of you, Saeran. You’re always protecting us and I know how hard that is.”  

“I’m stronger with you,” he murmured. “I would be nothing without you.” 

“And I would not be here if not for you,” Lila said. She meant it, she meant every word of it. She was happy that he had saved her life. She did not see what he did as him taking her life away, if he had not acted to save her, she would have died. 

He saved her, and that was how she saw this. 

They shared a kiss. 

It was a brief one, with them both pulling away momentarily before leaning back into to steal another and another and another. When they were together in this way, it was like electricity was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t resist being close to her and she couldn’t stop herself from trying to cling to him. 

Perhaps it was because they both understood that life was not a given. They had to live each moment like it was the last one they would ever share. It would be this way until Rika and her group were taken down and they could live in peace. 

It would happen, it would have to happen. 

“I don’t want to leave you,” Saeran chuckled when she pulled back. Her forehead pressed against his own. “You make it so hard to leave.” 

“It’s so you’ll come back to me,” she reminds him with a smile. “Now, tell me what I need to do and I will do it. I trust you, Saeran.”

So, he gave her everything that she needed to know. How she would have to travel and how he would meet her late in the night. It was too far for her to make the walk on foot so she would have to travel during the day to get there but as long as she did as she normally did and covered herself, it would be alright. 

Saeran would walk and use the cover of the woods to make sure there were no tracks or markings that would leave to either of them. 

They separated that evening with her in a taxi and him setting off on foot. 

Saeran would scout everything out and ensure that there were no signs of Mint Eye, and Lila would go to a safe area that he knew had no hunters or vampires to speak of. It was supposed to be very simple and nothing more to it, but life had never been kind to these two. 

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Luciel was pissed. 

There was no way to say this beyond those simple words. He was angry and not even the wrath of Satan would be enough to describe what he was feeling. Luciel had let himself become complacent in his new life and his guard was too far lowered. 

They had taken the one person that he cared for and held her like a toy in front of him as a trap. Minji had been kidnapped and was now being used to lure him into a trap. He had come back from a mission only to find Minji’s home in shambles and a note left for him that simply read: You do have a weakness, hunter. 

They had taken the woman he loved and now he did not know what he was going to do. No, he knew what he was going to do. He was going to hunt down every single one of them and rip them limb from limb until they were unrecognizable. 

He was going to make sure that they never did anything ever again just for looking at her, but if they hurt her—

Nothing was going to stop him from destroying every vampire he saw. 

He hated them. 

He hated them all.  

They had taken everything that he had left and now, he had to fight to get it back. He did not even know if they would keep her alive for long. A human in a den of vampires? They would kill her or worse, change her just to spite him if it came down to it. Minji was strong and she knew how to protect herself but one human against a group? 

Odds were not in her favor. 

He told Vanderwood that he had a mission to do that had been given to him alone, and then he set off to destroy the vampires that had taken her from him. They had left him a location to go to but only that, and he would have to buy himself time with this so his boss wouldn’t know what he was doing and that he had been going against the agency’s orders. 

It would not last for long, the lie, that is. 

So, he had to do this fast and hard. It was only a matter of time until she got hurt or he got caught and he wasn’t going to lose against the clock, not again. He had protected his baby brother and he was not going to lose Minji too. He may not be able to see Saeran, but he can see Minji, and that means he has to protect her. 

He followed the note to the exact location and found himself a desolate town late at night. It was foggy out and the conditions were poor. It wasn’t good for human eyes. He made sure to park his car and take out what he needed before exiting and starting to scope out the place. The town was his only clue and he had nothing else to go on. 

It was hardly populated by any means, and that struck him as odd. Most vampires stick to big cities for their targets. It was better for them to go undetected. Murders and crime happened all the time in a city, but not in a small town. 

They were trying to ensure that Luciel couldn’t bring backup or get help, weren’t they? 

It wasn’t going to stop him from killing them. If anything, it made it better because he was going to make sure they were screaming until the end. For every injury and the wound he found on Minji, he was going to inflict it back on them tenfold. 

Luciel looked around, but there were hardly any people in town. He found himself checking each face he walked past for the telltale markers but they were all humans. That made him feel like this had been a dead-end, making him groan and grit his teeth in frustration. He eventually stopped and turned into an alley. 

He made his way to the end of it and turned to make a right for the next block but he walked right into a girl. She was short, much smaller than he was. He almost mistook her for a kid but he figured out real fast that she was a woman. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a little hollow as he found forced joy to not be easy at the moment. 

“It’s okay,” the voice replied. “It happens.” 

He offered her his hand to help and when she stood up, she looked at him and blinked. It was like she knew him, she was tracing his face with her eyes and then something clicked. “Saeran?” she asked, her brows feathered.

“I thought you said that you were going to be back by sunrise. How did you get so here? Was there trouble? Please, tell me you didn’t run into any hunters. We barely got away from them the last time, are you hurt?” her voice is pained, worried, and panicked. 

Luciel finds that he can only stare at her in shock. She said the name of his twin brother, and she seemed like she knew him. She wouldn’t have said that to a stranger and she would not have looked at his face like that if she didn’t know it. 

His mirror image. 

Then, he realized, she mentioned hunters. That was when he noticed her eyes were not entirely brown. There was a glimmer to them that was tinged in red as if she were a… 

No, no! 

All thoughts of Minji are put on hold as he turns his rage onto this woman. Luciel can’t stop himself from slamming the woman against the concrete wall to the right of them with a hard shove. 

Her back collides and she lets out a loud wince but pushes back against his hold with a firm grip that is not human. He is bigger than she is, and he had the upper hand with the way his fingers are around her throat. It takes him a split second to pick up his stake with his free hand and press it against her skin as she visibly panics. 

She looks into his eyes and finally notices that the color is not green, “You’re not… Saeran…” she breathes, horrified. 

“No, you monster, that’s my brother,” he hissed with such venom in his voice it almost burned. “Now, tell me how in the hell you know who he is, vampire. I am already looking to kill the first vampire that fucks with me. I’m going to give you till the count of three or I’m going to drive this into your undead heart and leave you here to burn in the fucking sun.” 

She struggled against his hold but it was no use, no matter how hard she kicked against him, he would not let go. This was a hunter, and this hunter was ready to kill her and leave her for dead just like that. She and Saeran had come into contact with hunters before but he had made her go ahead and refused to let her see what happened. 

But this was the true power of a hunter. They trained for years to kill vampires and Lila, now a vampire and years away from her humanity, was a target for people like that. She did not want to die, not again… not like this! 

“Please, stop!” she pleaded with him. “I can explain everything if you just give me a moment, I promise, I won’t hurt you!” 

“I can’t say the same for myself, monster,” Luciel growled. 

“Saeran didn’t tell me he had a brother,” she tried to reason with him but it was not getting her anywhere with him. “Look, he’s important to me too! I’ve been with him for a few years now. He’s going to be here soon, I told you I was waiting for him! We’ve been together for a long time now and he’s been protecting us from—”

The stake in Luciel’s hands pressed just a smidge harder against her chest. It was silver, and it burned like hell. It burned almost as hot as the fire that had enveloped her body when she was first transformed. 

“You’ve been with him for a while?!” Luciel found his anger rising even higher, not stopping to hear any more. “He’s supposed to be far away from monsters like you! Don’t lie to me, temptress, did you take him away from his happiness to use him as some plaything, I know how you monsters are with humans—”

Luciel was on the ground and the woman was freed from his grasp. The redhead rolled over and sank to a defensive position as he watched a dark figure move the woman behind them. Clearly, this was her partner, he assumed. 

Perhaps they were in league with the monsters that took Minji? This could have been a bigger trap than he thought. 

“Saeran,” the woman said, her voice was trembling from the attack. “Please, wait. This hunter said he was your—”

The hood fell from the man’s head and revealed a familiar shade of red hair that matched Luciel’s. His eyes were green and his skin was nearly as white as a sheet, there were rings under them as if he had not been getting any sleep, and his figure was slim as if he hadn’t been getting fed. He was dressed in all black, dark jeans, a black shirt, and a leather hoodie. Green eyes met golden eyes all at once... eyes that had left met when they were both human, but now, these brothers were separated by more than distance. One was undead and the other was living.  One was a hunter, and the other was a vampire. 

They couldn't have been more different. 

Saeran found himself unable to say anything at all. 

Luciel didn't know what to do, so he just stared at him, and then buried his face in his hands, letting out a painful sob at the realization that his little brother, the one that he had left to protect from their father, and eventually, from the undead, was now the very thing that he had been trying to kill. 

“Saeyoung…?” 

[rotten-dandelions]

I haven’t posted in a hot minute, but please have a long-short story involving @zoomee-vroomee and my Trailer Park AU. 

Joxter didn't have the energy to turn on the radio when he got in the car; it was 5 pm, which meant he had 5 hours with his family until he had to go to his second job. If he could squeeze in a 30-minute nap in that time, he would be ok. He got off his second job at 4 am, which meant he would have time to run home and shower before needing to get ready to go to work again. It was a harsh cycle; at 29, his body was so worn down the beginnings of a grey streak was starting up on the left side of his head right at his ear. 

But he could handle this, he could handle the back-breaking work of his first job and the blatant racism towards him in his second. What he couldn’t handle, was the stress it was putting on his husband. Yesterday had been hard, he had left work early again because Muddler needed him at home, but he was so tired, he spent the majority of it curled up on his husband's lap asleep. 

He could kick himself for that. He wasn’t supposed to go home and shut down from exhaustion, he was supposed to hold his lover, show him how much he appreciated him and loved him for all the hard work he had done with the kids. But he had failed on that aspect, and he could see it all over his lover's face when he had left for work that night.

His heart sat heavy in his chest; the longer he thought about the situation, Muddler was miserable, it didn’t take a genius to see that. The stress of the children and Joxter’s absence was evident in the way he moved, in the way he smiled and the way the brightness didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

And it was all Joxter’s fault. 

He had to pull over when he couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked his body, he pulled into a parking space on the side of a small building and let himself sob. He was a horrible husband and an even worse father. He rested his head on the steering wheel, his tears hitting the plastic with a soft thump. He was wasting time, he could be home by now, but his body wouldn’t move, and he couldn’t get the tears to stop. 

ביטע

He begged, whispering to himself as his claws dug into the steering wheel. 

ביטע העלפֿן מיין מאַן

He wept in his sorrows, begging for help in ways he hadn’t before. He felt lost and useless; he just wanted to be the best husband he could, the best father, but no matter what he did, the situation never got better, and Muddler remained miserable. 

 היילן זיין האַרץ און העלפֿן מיין קינדער וואַקסן

He sat in silence after that, his sobbing finally quieted down to a manageable level that he could see again. He checked his phone, seeing that he had spent far too long sitting here and wallowing in self-pity. Muddler had messaged him, questions about where he was, and if he was ok. 

Joxter was quick to respond, telling him that he had a bit of a hold-up, but he was on his way home now, and he couldn’t wait to see him. 

”Oh… so you’ll only be home for 4 hours then.”

Joxter couldn’t respond to the text, a new onslaught of tears hit him, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying again. This was his own fault, he shouldn’t have pulled over, he should have kept himself in check. 

He had to do something to remedy this, even if it was just today. 

He waited for his second boss to pick up, clearing his throat and wiping as many tears away as he could as he waited for the man to pick up the phone. 

“Hello”

“A-Ah, hello sir, this is Joxaren; I was hoping to talk to you for a few minutes?” 

“Are you calling out?” 

Joxter paused, his heart suddenly in his throat as the fear of what was to come sank into him.

“U-Unfortunately yes, sir. My husband isn’t feeling very well, and I needed to-”

“This is the third time this month, you realize that, right? This is… Let’s see, the 8th time in a two month period that you have called out do to family issues.” 

“Sir... I’m sorry, I just-” 

“No. I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore. You begged me for this job, do you remember that? Told me you needed the extra money to help fund your husband’s surgery, and yet, you don’t work?”

“Please, Sir I’m so sorry, I just need this one night off and I will-”

“I cannot believe this, you’re still trying to get off work?” 

“It’s an emergency, sir, please.” 

Joxter was met with silence on the other end; he hadn’t realized he was crying again, and his body was shaking. He was about to say something else when his boss spoke again.

“I’m giving you this one last chance, do you understand me?” 

Joxter nodded but soon realized he needed to speak to confirm.

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Deal with whatever issues you need to, and I will see you Monday night, is this understood?” 

He nodded again, but quickly spoke up, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Yes, sir, yes, sir, I understand. Thank you, sir, thank you so much-”

“Save it. You need to prove yourself to me on Monday.” 

“Of course, sir, thank you.”

Joxter hung up the phone then. A shaky breath leaving him as all the adrenalin he had left faded. His boss had given him the whole weekend off. He could spend this time spoiling his husband and spending time with his kids. He would be able to sleep through the night next to the love of his life. 

Joxter looked down at his phone, Muddler had texted him two more times. He glanced over them, questions about his eta, and if he needed to put his food in the microwave. Joxter was quick to respond, telling him he would be home in time to eat and to please save a spot for him at the table. 

He was about to leave when he spotted a flower shop right where he had parked, he checked his wallet, he still had 20 dollars left from groceries, so he decided to go in. Getting something that he could bring back to his lover. It wasn’t the biggest bouquet of flowers, but each one he had picked out was how he felt for his lover, and he hoped they would ease Muddler’s heart a little. 

He arrived home right when Muddler was finishing setting the table. He could see through the front door and into the kitchen, three small kits were helping get silverware put out, even though they couldn’t quite reach the table yet. 

Joxter gathered the flowers behind his back. Walking up to the front door and opening it, calling out to his family that he was home. He was met with little hands grabbing at his legs, and “welcome home, daddy!” rang through the house. He smiled at them, bending down to kiss each child on top of the head before sending them to wash their hands before supper. He took that moment to stride over to his lover, who was anxiously looking at the clock on the wall. 

He felt terrible that Muddler was worried about the short amount of time they would have, but he was quick to gently take Muddler’s chin, turning his husband's attention back to him, a smile on his face as he kissed his lips. 

“Don’t worry about that right now, I brought you something.” 

He handed him the flowers, his eyes shining as Muddler looked over the bouquet. The center was roses, signaling his love for his husband, they were tucked in the center as the outside was a mixture of red and pink Camellia indicating Joxter’s longing and the flame that was Muddler in his heart. The last flower was honeysuckle, the representation of their bond as lovers and husbands. He was slightly proud of himself for remembering the meaning of these flowers, it had been a long time since Muddler had taught him what different flowers symbolized.

“This is what took you so long?” 

That wasn’t what he had been expecting.

“We have five hours together each day. And you chose to spend two of them getting something that is going to die in a week? Why couldn’t you have just come right home?” 

“I…”

“Are you just desperate to spend as much time away from me as possible?” 

“No! Mouse…”

“Why couldn’t you have just come home?”

“I-I was calling my boss… I don’t have to work this weekend or tonight. I’m all yours.”

“Ok, so now you’ve spent money on this and you're not working, so that means more overtime. Got it.” 

Joxter was at a loss for words. That clawing feeling of anxiety was making its way up to his throat and wrapping around his windpipe, squeezing until Joxter started to see spots. 

“No… No, no overtime, I had enough cash to get these, I thought you would like them-”

“So you couldn’t text me and tell me? You decided it was better to make me wait anxiously for you to make it home before you have to turn around and leave again?”

“I wanted to surprise you…” 

“I just want my husband home.” 

Joxter stood still, his tail had tucked itself between his legs, and his ears were flat against his head. He could feel his bottom lip starting to tremble, so he bit his cheek once more, hard enough that he bled. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Muddler wasn’t looking at him. He sat the flowers on the counter and continued to set the table in silence. Joxter picked up the flowers, going to the bedroom, and placing them on his nightstand as he changed out of his work clothes. He could hear the chairs moving and the kits placing themselves down, but Joxter suddenly didn’t feel very hungry. He didn’t feel anything at all as he looked at the flowers, going over each one and what they meant, just in case he had gotten it wrong. 

But just as Joxter thought, all of them were correct. He had only made a mistake, that was all. A simple one that he should have known better, Muddler wouldn’t want something that would rot in a few weeks, something else he would have to take care of. 

How stupid he had been.

“Are you coming or not?”

Joxter nearly jumped out of his skin when Muddler came into the room, he quickly wiped away the stray tears he didn’t know had gathered in his eyes and gave a smile, following Muddler out of the room and to the table.

“This looks amazing, my heart, thank you so much.” 

“Why are you thanking me, it’s my job.”

Joxter nearly dropped the fork he had picked up, not expecting the harshness from his husband. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, not sure anything he said wouldn’t set Muddler off.

“Now you’re not speaking to me?”

Joxter placed his fork down, smiling at the kids as he did so. Little curious eyes were looking between the two of them, picking up the tension in the room. Joxter was quick to gather them up, quickly calling Mymble and asking if she could watch them for a few hours.

When she agreed, Joxter packed their supper in containers, sending them to her home. He watched from the front door until they made it inside, waving as she shut the door behind them.

“You like her more than me, don’t you.” 

Joxter shut the door, turning to his husband and looking him over. He needed to know what was wrong, the unnecessary meanness wasn’t normal, and Joxter had a feeling this was due to something that had happened earlier in the day.

“Mouse-”

“My name is Muddler. I’m not just a pet for you to enjoy.” 

Joxter swallowed hard, needing to grip the wall to steady his shaking.

“Muddler, did something happen today?” 

“No?” 

Joxter bit his lip, not sure how to ask without sounding like he was accusing Muddler of something.

“What? Suddenly ‘I have all the answers’ Joxter doesn't have anything to say?” 

Muddler was looking right at him, Joxter had never been on the receiving end of such a nasty look. If looks could kill, he was sure he would be dead on the floor now. He tried hard to think of anything he would have done in the past month that would have made Muddler this mad at him when he came up with nothing, he started to panic, his claws digging into the wall he was holding onto. 

“I-I”

“I-I-I-I come on why don’t you just tell me you hate me already!? That you wish I would go away!” 

Joxter was shocked, did Muddler think he hated him? He tried desperately to think of something that he had done that his lover could have taken out of context. The only thing he could think of was when he had fallen asleep for 4 of the 5 hours he could have been spending with his lover. 

“I don’t hate you, I love you.” 

“Then why are you never home?” 

“I have to work my heart… My love, I’m so sorry, I know it’s tough but-” 

“But we will get through it, just a little longer, oh I love you sweet mouse even though I’ve trapped you here and make you take care of the children neither one of us wanted” 

Muddler mocked him, glaring at him with a look of hatred he had only ever seen directed towards Hodgkins. His blood ran cold, and he couldn’t feel the wall he was holding onto anymore. 

“Are you not going to say anything to that? Have no way to defend yourself?” 

Joxter wanted to speak, wanted to beg Muddler to forgive him for everything he had put him through, for their situation, for the hard work Muddler had to do. But he couldn’t speak, his voice had stopped working, and the longer Muddler glared at him, the more he felt their marriage slipping from his fingers. 

“I-I….I’m sorry” A heavy breath, it was getting harder to breathe, harder to think. “I am sorry for… f...for the way you’ve been feeling… It’s m..my fault, and I’m sorry.” 

“And?” 

“A-And… And… If you’re n...not happy, I’m not going to k-keep you here…”

The room was silent, Muddler still looking at him with that same look of hatred, and Joxter felt like one wrong move, and it was all over. He couldn’t stop the tears that this time, his head spun with how hard his heart was beating, and for a split second, Joxter feared he was going to have a heart attack. 

“I l...love you.”

He had nothing else he could say, nothing else to give, and Muddler knew it. He was backed into a corner, no magic solution to their problems, no way to fix the sudden distance between them. All he had was his love, and it seemed that he wasn’t going to be enough. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” 

Joxter was whispering, needing to sit down against the wall or else he would pass out. He had nothing he could do to fix this, he couldn’t quit the second Job, that was the primary savings for Muddler’s top surgery. He _almost_ had enough for it, just a couple thousand more dollars, and they would be set.

“Three months… Three months and I can shorten my hours at the night shift.” 

Muddler was frowning, this wasn’t what he had wanted to hear, but Joxter was trying. 

“Three months, and I’ll have enough saved up for your surgery…” 

That seemed to shock Muddler, the look he was giving him vanished, replaced with one of hesitance. 

“I know how hard the pregnancy was on you, the breastfeeding… I know how much you hated all of it, I-I wanted to save up, to get the surgery for you… It’s taken me a lot longer than I thought, but our insurance doesn't cover it, so it’s out of pocket…” 

Muddler had started crying then, and Joxter tried to get up to comfort his husband, but Muddler was in his arms in an instant, sobbing into his chest and wrapping his arms and legs around him, his tail curling around their middles.

“Mrs. Fillyjonk told me you kept such long hours because you didn’t want to be around us…” 

Relief flooded Joxter in the strangest way; this whole mess had been because of her, and Joxter couldn’t have been more relieved. Muddler didn’t hate him, he was just having a hard time convincing his mind Joxter loved him.

“No, no, no, never. I love you so much… I love all of you more than anything in this world.” 

He kissed Muddler’s head, holding the love of his life as close as he could. He felt terrible for getting tears in his husband's hair, but he couldn’t stop them; he was so relieved that Muddler still loved him he couldn’t control them anymore. 

“S-She said that you hated how my body looks…. H...How I have larger breasts now because of the kids and that you don’t want a woman at home… You want a man…” 

Joxter ran his hand over Muddler’s back, the other placed against Muddler’s head, gently rubbing his head.

“No… No, you’re perfect, my love, You will always be the most handsome man in the world to me, no matter what. Don’t let her insecurities get to you, she’s just trying to hurt you because she is unhappy and taking it out on you. I should have told you in the beginning… I was trying to surprise you, but it took way longer than I expected…” 

Muddler’s grip tightened as he wailed and Joxter held him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He let his lover cry, knowing that by the end of it, he would feel much better than he had before. 

“Love… longing for you, you’re a flame in my heart, bonds of love.” 

Muddler had whispered, but Joxter heard it, a smile coming to his lips.

“You… You remembered what I taught you…”

“Of course, my dearest.” 

“Thank you… I love them… I love them so much.”

[avatarofseshat]

Wind and Fire (Part 1)

Pairing: Baldwin Montclair/OC 

Summary: The De Clermont’s come to the aid of a powerful witched named Katherine Knight, which is gifted with elemental powers. 

Based on the prompt submitted by skanaski06 :

“Hi live your page! Could you write one where Baldwin Montclair falls for a witch powerful like Diana but more elemental. She has dark hair a green eyes, her scent is of rosemary, apples and honeysuckle. She is just as stubborn as he is and they fall quickly for each other, the kicker is that everyone else knows they are mating and then they do. A slow burn with a satisfying ending!”

I hope you like it so far, I know it isn’t exactly as you requested. However, I hope it will fulfill some of it. This is slightly AU. It isn’t nearly over! I ran with it!

- ST

—-

Katherine Knight had caught the attention of the Congregation when she nearly burned down a whole apartment complex after discovering her fiance with another woman. Her emotions had overcome her and caused her elemental power to surge and produce a storm of fire and wind but than she quelled the flames with a rain shower. Since the De Clermonts had experience when it came to unpredictable and powerful witches, Baldwin offered to take her to Sept-Tours, and the Congregation reluctantly agreed.

Kate’s piercing green eyes stared out of the window as they drove up the winding road in the French countryside and through old quaint villages. Baldwin paused to observe her for a moment, it was as if she felt his eyes on her and she turned to meet them.

“My sister-in-law, Diana, is a powerful witch” he said attempting to make conversation “she can help you”

“Why are you being so kind to me?” She inquired “Aren’t vampires supposed to not like witches?”

He just grinned “Things have changed, Katherine” he responded “Here we are…” he quipped as  he pulled the car to the front of a massive stone castle. Kate noticed a number of people waiting.

Baldwin exited the sadan and strode to the passenger door and reached to open the door for her, when suddenly it flew open, nearly missing him. Once she realized what had happened, “I’m so sorry…” she paused mortified

“It’s forgiven...besides I would have healed” he responded amused offering a hand to her she took it without hesitation. It seemed to her that her skin was ablaze compared to his cool touch.

Kate was introduced to the rest of them, she knew three of them were also vampires and that the kind looking blond lady was also a witch “I’m Diana” she responded kindly as Kate took her hand as the others, especially the blond vampire with the green eyes looked on in disapproval.

“Come with me, let’s get you settled’ said the kindly older appearing vampire, Baldwin said her name was Marthe. The interior of Sept-Tours was just as opposing as the exterior and was full of huge corridors with ancient tapestries, “Baldwin insisted that you stay in his tower” she continued leading her up a winding set of stairs.

“Thank you” Kate responded to Marthe as they sat down her suitcases. She busied herself with unpacking and sorting out her clothing when she suddenly felt an icy gaze upon her.

“You need to eat” came Baldwin’s commanding voice as he stood in the door with hands in his pockets, he had changed out of his suit, and was now raining a dark pair of jeans and a black polo. She hated to admit it but he looked just as attractive.

“I’m not hungry” she responded just a forcefully as he did

“We had a full day of travel” he commanded again “You need to…”

“I’M NOT HUNGRY” she yelled as her green eyes were ablaze with the threat of flames “And I will not be ordered around!”

“I’m not afraid of you, Katherine” he yelled back “and you are in my tower and under my roof!” he commanded. Her resolve did not waive. He may not have been afraid of her but he knew what she could do. For the first time in a century he felt powerless and he gave a frustrated sigh and left “I’m going hunting...I’ll return in an hour,” he called over his shoulder, it was a threat.

Kate’s stomach protested, she was indeed hungry but she wouldn’t let Baldwin have control of her. She would go down on her own accord. After about a half-of-an hour but it seemed like several hours she padded her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she found Marthe busying herself.

After killing the second wild boar, Baldwin sighed clearly distracted as he turned to his brother “Why is she so stubborn?” he asked Mathew “She doesn’t….”

“Just like you” Mathew countered nudging his brother daringly, which solicited a glare from Baldwin “Why are you thinking so much about it?”

“I’m not used to someone questioning me…” he paused “Except for Diana…” he continued which solicited an irritated glare from Mathew, “Witches” he continued under his breath, there was no doubt that his brother heard it and choose to ignore it and instead was walking towards the Castle.

“So, you are hungry” Baldwin chasized seeing Katherine sitting at the table eating a sandwich “Why did you defy me? I’m trying to help you” he said now sitting in the chair next to her “Katherine, look at me...please” he pleaded.  She turned and met his gaze it wasn’t like it had been previously, his eyes had softened.

Ysabeau just glanced to Marthe and then over to Mathew and Diana in silent council. It became clear to her and by the posture of the other present that something had changed in her step-son.

The scent of apples, rosemary, and honeysuckle instantly overtook Baldwin’s senses as he walked by her door, he stepped in and couldn’t initially find her until he noticed the door to the washroom was ajar he peered in pushing the door slightly more open. He spotted her in the bath up to her chest in bubbles and apparently engrossed in thought, she must have felt his gaze since she looked up and met his eyes.

He shook himself to his senses and bolted from the room. This couldn’t happen, it couldn’t be! He hadn’t felt felt this in over a century. His sudden departure was noticed by Diana, Marthe, and Ysabeau her hurried up the stairs to find Solana lying on the bed in nothing but a bath towel, sobbing.

“Hey…” Diana whispered to not startle her as she inched closer “What happened?”  he inquired gently.

“I was…” she stuttered “In the bath...and...he” she paused to take a deep breath “saw me and then he ran!” she said wiping her eyes attempting to gather herself. It was clear to Marthe and Ysabeau that he was in denial and attempting to resist. There was no resisting. “Why does it hurt so bad?” she inquired as the three of them locked glances.

“My step-son is complicated…” Ysabeau interjected “But he means well” as Marhe laid out a set of clothing on the bed for Solana and look of empathy on her kind features.

Kate gathered herself as the other three women exited her room giving her privacy to dress.

“I never thought this would be” Ysabeau mused pacing the sitting room and she paused as the other two looked on.

“They’re mating!” Diana said in astonishment, after all the resistance Baldwin gave to her and Mathew, he was also doing it - mating with a witch!

“Yes” Ysabeau responded as Marthe nodded in agreement “Accept he’s resisting...while Mathhew accepted it”

“It’s futile” Marthe continued “There’s no resisting the lure of the mating bond” she paused “The sooner they realize it, the less anguish”.

They noticed Kate’s presence at the wind kicked up outside a clear sign of her sorrow “My dear” Ysabeau soothed as the witch entered the sitting room.

Baldwin found himself at the stables and the horses started to become unsettled at the uproar outside as the trees clacked against the building. It was calm just a moment ago and he found himself if it was caused by Solana. If he had caused it.

Part Two

[renegadesrpg]

Not Quite Goodbye. Soulmates, part 19. Layla and Sean Crossover with Dark Angels:Creation, part 36

Sean: *To say I’d been relatively oblivious to the night around me as the mental ‘touch base’ with Adrian, Zav, and Bryn had been going on wouldn’t have been accurate. A warrior’s senses are never totally offline, and, though my parents had once had different goals for me, I’d chosen the warrior’s path in my mortal life. It had followed me into death and as a reaper I had even greater control over it.

  In the back of my mind I’d heard Layla fuss at Bear for getting into the dirty dishes we’d left. I’d heard Reaper yip as Bear leapt off the counter and the playful scramble that had resulted, with Layla all the while clinking the dishes in the sink as she cleaned up. My senses had extended even further and I’d heard the hoot of an owl nearby and the rustle of a fox looking for dinner. But what I hadn’t heard was any indication this place wasn’t safe. And still….  Heaving a sigh, I knew no place was completely secure as long as the Horseman existed.

 Zav had made this place as impermeable to rogue reapers and demons as was possible. But if the Horseman won, no plane was safe. Lucifer, who we had no doubt was the power behind that particular throne, would destroy it all. But Sanctuary would provide Layla with protection as long as it was possible. I didn’t like her going alone, not after what had happened the last time she was there, but it was a place she knew and it would be one of the last to fall. And because it was a small, relatively unknown plane, it might actually go unnoticed for a long time. As the meeting ended, I turned to go into the cabin. Layla had made this place a home. The art on the walls was hers. The throws on the couch she’d knitted herself.  Her scent permeated the air, bringing the impression of honeysuckle and jasmine on a light summer breeze to my mind.  Hopefully we’d be back here someday. Hopefully.

 Walking into the kitchen, I stopped in the doorframe and watched her for a moment before breaking the silence*

 Nalla, we gotta talk.

  Layla: *I was just putting away the last of the dishes when Sean said we needed to talk. I could tell by his tone this was THE talk. I dry my hands on the nearby towel and turn to look at the male I loved. I remember seeing him for the first time...that playfulness and kindness. Now they were replaced with a sorrow I didn't like seeing on his handsome face and a fierceness that talked of his resolve to win the war no matter the cost.*

Yes, Nallum?

  Sean: Zav's female was attacked. *seeing the alarm in her face* She's ok... they all are, but *shaking my head* we can't delay any longer. We believe the Horseman is getting suspicious and having us monitored. Bryn says witches with scrying mirrors are most likely. *Walking in and taking your hands in mine*

They can't see us behind the wards but they're watching for us every time we emerge from behind them. Which means they’re probably watching for you to leave the wards too. Making a grab for you or Zav's woman is to keep us off balance and if they manage to actually get one of you, that's just icing on the cake to him. Sin's called a meet in Brazil. Probably to finalize our strategy.

  Layla: *The initial shock of the attack on Zav's female is soon replaced with relief that she is well. Then he says they have to go quicker than planned. Unfortunately, that means I have to go to the Sanctuary. Honestly, I’m not looking forward to it but I was truthful when I said this was a battle I had to fight for myself. This is needed whether I like it or not. Plus, it'll take some of the aches away that plague me.*

When must you go?

 Sean: Now. But I'll be back before you need to go to Sanctuary. Bryn hasn't laid the trap yet. She wanted to wait until just before the battle begins. Just in case. *giving a wry snort* I swear that witch has a sixth sense. If she'd done it earlier and been seen doing it, that would have finished us before we started. She'll probably work some mojo to keep them from seeing what she's up to now that it's clear we're being watched every time we leave the wards. Can you get together what you want to take with you, and what Reaper and Bear will need while I'm gone?

 Layla: Of course Nallum. I already bought extra art and knitting supplies and packed them. I can get the rest tended to quickly as well. Mostly robes as that is what is worn but they have extra should I need more. And I will make sure I have plenty of food for Reaper and Bear as well as their favorite toys.

 *I'm rambling and I need to stop. I bite my lower lip to stop myself from saying more.*

 I will be prepared to go by the time you return, Love. *I smile*

 Sean: *Her smile doesn’t fool me. She’s got a double dose of anxiety running through her right now. Her emotions are riding high and washing over me like the ocean at high tide. Even her scent is different.  Drawing her into my arms, I tilt her chin up to look at me and chide softly,*

 Silly female. Don’t you know better than to try to hide things from an empath? *kissing her gently* I wish I could promise you everything is going to be fine but, baby, you and I both know that might be a promise I can’t keep.  All I can do is love you. And I do.

 Layla: I know I can't hide from you Love. I just don't know what else to do but smile and press on. *shrugging and holding you tight* I love you very much Sean. *kisses you* I will be packed and ready to go when you return from your meeting.

 Sean: * Our kiss is slow and bittersweet. For a long moment all I do is hold you, burying my face in your hair as if to memorize your scent, although it's already as much a part of me as my own. Finally, I release you and step back, my own face serious.* The path we're on now isn’t what I'd have wanted for us but you're right that it's all we can do. I can't smile at it. But I can smile at you. *a quiet smile growing on my face* Because that's all I want to do when I see you. You're my miracle. I'll be back soon.

 *Dematerializing into the fine black reaper mist, I'm gone.*

 #TBC

 #Renegades #RRPG #BDB #AU #DarkAngelsCreation #Soulmates #Reapers #Vampires #Angels #Wolfen #Ghosts

[vide0-nasties]

won’t you come home

Pairings: Julian/Asra, Julian/Asra/MC, background Nadia/Portia

Content Warnings: Off-screen major character death, brief descriptions of old age, mild coarse language, angst

Word Count: 3999

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a vampire au but, boy howdy, that didn’t happen. Anyway, have a very drawn out hurt/comfort fic with a big, fat happy ending!

---

Forty years ago, Julian once again faced down death.

A witch sacrificed herself for him. For all the lives in Vesuvia.

He’s an old man now. He’s lived a long life. But it was a longer life than he’d wanted, if he was honest.

In the end, he’d gotten almost everything he wanted.

+

I AM TIRED OF BEING ALONE

It was hard to look into the white flames, to see past them and glimpse the bodies inside the burning sigil chalked onto the floor. It was impossible to see beyond it, to find Pasha and Nadia. To know whether they were safe pushed up against Lucio’s bed, Nadia using her back to shield Pasha from the inferno.

Asra kept Julian standing, even though their bodies threatened to buckle under the weight of the magic. He watched the fire with his hand knotted in Julian’s bloodied jacket, eyes shining with tears, mouth moving in prayer. He’d said, once, that being loved by Eustacia was the same as being loved by a god. He wasn’t wrong.

I AM TIRED OF BEING IGNORED

Eustacia in the center of the conflagration she’d nurtured, hands held out, palm-up, to the figure that shifted violently between man and animal. Only the ragged ends of her voice penetrate the maelstrom. Tattered and mismatched syllables, no discernable words.

For years, Julian would have nightmares about the cacophony of accusations the form screeched, impossibly loud and omnipresent, pressing on his skull so hard he felt his other eye trying to escape the socket.

But he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t stop witnessing.

I AM TIRED OF WAITING

COME AND FUCKING GET ME LUCIO

“No, no, Eustacia! DON’T!” Asra’s scream never reached her, and Julian felt a dozen muscles pull as he tried to hold the magician back.

When the thing that might’ve been Lucio grabbed Eustacia, the world turned black and Julian felt the pressure in his skull give, felt heat pouring down his face. There was only cackling and Asra’s screaming struggle.

That, too, stopped.

By the time he’d healed and woken, there was nothing left but the scorch mark on the floor Asra examined. Nadia was collapsed on top of Pasha, but they both breathed and gripped each other in their unconsciousness. Lucio was gone. Eustacia was gone.

Julian’s legs failed him, scuttling to Asra’s side. “Is she—?”

“No,” Asra said, concentrating on the marks, spreading his hands over them, “she’s not. She’s coming back. It’s right here, in the scorch.”

+

A long life gave him many things to witness—beautiful and miraculous.

The revival of Vesuvia under Countess Nadia’s hand, lifting it from squalor into a golden era, willfully ignorant of the kicking and screaming.

The Countess’ second wedding—a massive, plush affair that threw the city into a revelry for over a month. Pasha had looked stunning in her gown, and she looked stunning forever after at Nadia’s side. She’d found her place, and it was in the heart of the sun, just like he always knew it was going to be.

He’d seen the magnificent explosion of medical sciences and magical arts. Vesuvia became a world capitol for doctors and magicians of all paths, and many found their way to the city on pilgrimages.

He’d finally gotten his doctorate, and even accepted an invitation to become the Court Physician for a number of years. When he retired, finding the politics disagreeable and the actual doctoring completely lacking, he took on apprentices and found that he was a better teacher than doctor. The students he sent out into the world would do things he only ever dreamed of.

His twilight years he spends as a director of a medical oddities museum. It is a premier showcase of maladies, and he gets to be as eccentric, dramatic, and talkative as he wants—a strange showman with one eye, a long black coat, and a voice made for projecting monologues to misshapen skulls held aloft in his hand.

Asra had stayed with him, sharing quarters in a way they never did before, holed up tight in the shop. They waited for something—anything. Asra had kept things together while Julian was floored by the suddenly resurrection of his—well, not good, but—neutral image.

They’d come together again on more even ground. Once the sting had settled into their skin and they’d hunkered in to wait out the long winter, they didn’t dance around a ghost so much as they left a place setting prepared for her.

In the end, Julian had gotten almost everything he wanted. Warm days, never a dull night, Pasha never having reason to cry. Asra wanted in, all the way. No limitations, no ground rules, nothing.

“You’re not—are you doing this because you’re lonely?” he’d asked, wary-eyed over a table at the Rowdy Raven. “Because the last time we tried to ride this pony—well, we both know that didn’t end very glamorously. Crying, cursing, going on the run—it was a whole ordeal. You remember.”

“Yes and no,” Asra admitted. “I love you, Ilya, and she would’ve wanted this for us. The last time…I didn’t handle it right. I was angry, all the time.”

She. Like they couldn’t say her name, or it would break the bargain, and she’d never come home. Just keep leaving the lights on, leaving the door unlocked, invite her in under your breath before you crossed back over the threshold.

Years they spent cavorting together, living the life Julian had only let himself imagine through intrusive thought. Everything was unrestrained, wonderful, intoxicating, even lived around the open wound.

Asra aged beautifully, developing sun spots, growing his hair long. He wore many scarves over unbuttoned kurtas and baggy pants, took life at a leisurely pace. He took no apprentices and continued to run the shop, reading fortunes out the backroom with Faust crawling through his clothes warmly.

+

A long life gave him many things to witness—bad and worse.

His bones never stopped aching and his hands didn’t cooperate. His hair had turned gray at the temples, faded, and turned white all over. There were spots on his body, and his spine stooped. He had to carefully watch his feet, because he would not bounce if he fell.

As he’d seen Pasha come into this world, he’d seen her go out. A quick and mercifully gentle decline for a round, old lady dressed in silks. One week fine, the next week coughing, the next week sleeping and never again waking. Nadia lost her vibrancy and followed her into the dark soon after.

“I can’t fathom how you’ve managed it, Doctor,” she’d sighed with a depth of sorrow Julian knew better than he knew himself. She never stopped touching her heart, as if hiding the hole left in it. “This is a sadness that will last forever.”

“Not forever,” he assured her. It was the same promise fed to him by another, but he’d long ago stopped watching the door.

Julian took care of them both as he’d taken care of Mazelinka in her final days. He was there when all three let out their last breath, and he stood witness, as he thinks he was always his purpose—not to change the world, but be there as it happened.

Even as Asra aged beautifully, it laid waste to him. His violet eyes clouded to lavender by cataracts. The shuffle of his deck wasn’t quick and clean, his hands stiff and gnarled. His back never stopped ailing him, and he walked with an ornate cane.

It came to a point that Julian began to wake in a terror, watching Asra’s still, sleeping form until he drew breath. Alive—today they were both still alive.

More and more, he finds himself thinking about the old days—walking the echoing halls of the Lazaret, supervising the burn pits, tending to Lucio and wishing he would die more quickly. Life on the run, his return to Vesuvia, his discovery of a different witch than the one he’d hunted.

When he tells Asra, Asra laughs and shakes his head. “She talked about that sometimes. She couldn’t believe how badly she missed the war.”

“What war?”

“All of them.”

That had been thirty-five years into the wait, and she was still she, and it disturbed him that he missed his own war.

+

He never had a green thumb, but he’s never wanted for money, and he can afford the skills of the best florists in the city. They know his order by now—sweet pea, belladonna, lavender, and forget-me-nots for a friend long lost and sadly unfamiliar to him—because he’s been purchasing it for years, lovingly assembled in a creative bouquet.

He will never buy a white rose, and he’s never had to spend coin on honeysuckle. In a city of stone, it grows up through the cracks in the pavers and clings to the outer walls of the shop. In the spring, he feels as reckless in love as he’d once been as a young man.

In the winter, when the honeysuckle is nothing but withered vines, he remembers the green quick hiding under the papery bark, and rolling, rich, dark brogue muttering against his ear, “Dormant doesn’t mean dead, and this is a lesson the universe carved into your bones before you were born.”

Asra pestered him about his weekly bouquet, why he never added wolfsbane to it, until Julian did. Then he wrapped the vase in honeysuckle vine. “Alright, you can lay off it now. Everyone’s home now, safe and sound,” he’d say, rolling his eye.

“Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

+

He thinks he catches glimpses of her in crowded places, but he writes it off as finally going senile. He’s an old man, easily winded, somehow even more scatterbrained—turning every tall body, dark head of hair, or familiar shadow into her.

Until it actually is her.

He can’t convince himself otherwise—he can’t rationalize it away. That is Eustacia in the market, still as sharp, young, and dangerous looking as she had been forty years ago. That is Eustacia at the stall across the canal, drumming her too-many fingers on her arm and looking down to a blond at her side.

Her eyes are impossibly black, and they flick toward the shop.

“Asra,” Julian wheezes, grabbing his sleeve. “Asra, look. Right now, look right now—!”

“What—what’s wrong?” Asra lifts his head as fast as he dares, not wanting to provoke his spine. He blinks furiously, following Julian’s hand. “I can’t see it, Ilya. What’re you looking at?”

Asra’s cataracts—of course, he couldn’t see. “Wait here, I’ll be right, ah, right back. I’m…” he drifts off and tries to push through the foot traffic, mind haunted by a mirror image recalling of the past.

Young and bold, he’d sauntered through this same market as a wanted man, wearing no mask. A witch he’d done wrong by had spotted him, and gave chase.

It ends the same today. A bird screeches, and the witch looks up from her companion. Julian only gets a flash of her stricken face before he trips over a fold in a carpet, coming very close to going down on all-fours.

It’s her—it’s her—the scars are the same, the teeth still flash under her thin lips, green-black tattoos under her mouth and down the center of her forehead—

She’s gone when he straightens, and Asra is at his elbow, bracing him against his body. “Was it her, Ilya? I felt her, it felt exactly like her,” he babbles, scanning the market. He didn’t see, he wouldn’t know that they couldn’t possibly keep up with her, much less catch up.

Julian’s heart pounds and he thinks he might vomit. “It…it was,” he croaks, breathing hoarsely. “I…Asra, I need to sit down. I don’t—I’m not feeling very—god, my heart is pounding. This is ridiculous. Pathetic…old bastard.”

“Ilya?”

Julian shakes his head, dismissing Asra’s worry. He’d thought, after almost half a century, that this was something that would never happen. He might be senile, but, here’s a terrifying thought, he might be right.

+

They don’t have to catch up with her. They find her at the shop’s stoop, waiting like a present.

Her and Lucio.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” she says to him, outside the door. Julian thinks Asra might break his wrist the way he grips it. “Selfish. It’s selfish and wrong. They’ve grown old together. It was wrong to come.”

“Who gives a shit?” Lucio snorts, rolling his eyes and tossing his one hand in the air. “Boo-hoo, they’re old. Let’s just get out of here and let them molder. I hate being in this city.”

Asra speaks first, projecting his voice and letting the unbridled contempt drip and pool around their feet, “Maybe she’ll set foot back in her home and make you wait, Lucio. She never had a problem prolonging your discomfort.”

Lucio and Eustacia whip around the find them, eyes wide. Eustacia’s hand flies to her chest, clutching the shirt above her heart. Her six knuckles go as pale as the whites of her eyes.

Lucio cocks a hip and sneers. “Oh, look. It’s the magician Asra,” he drones, “and Doctor Jules. It has been a long time, hasn’t it? You’re both looking like today’s the day you’ll—”

“Shut up, Lucio,” Eustacia breathes, without turning to Lucio or his sullen, cowed look. “You’re going to shut your fucking mouth, or I will seal it for you.”

This isn’t a hallucination—it’s not a heart attack, there are no shooting pains down his arm, though his breath is short. Though his legs might buckle if he doesn’t hold onto Asra.

If he goes down, he won’t get back up. If he speaks, he might break.

He stands witness to her return.

Her shaky step forward, the two after that. Her hands, hovering in the air, fingers flexing, cupping over her nose and mouth. Her eyes narrowing, tears pooling at her lashline and spilling.

“Oh—oh, look at you,” she sobs into her hands, halting. The anguish and relief of ages warp her eyes and brows, set her hands to trembling, her shoulders to quaking. “Look at the both of you. You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

Asra skims a hand up her arm, around her back, and pulls her close. He buries his face against her chest and breathes deeply. One of her arms wraps around his back, strokes over his hair, and she gapes at him in wonder as she continues to cry. “So fucking beautiful, look at you…” Her eyes dart to Julian and she hovers a hand over his chest, maybe afraid to touch. Maybe thinking she’s not allowed. “Never have I seen something so beautiful as you.”

“So are you,” Julian manages to croak, lifting a hand out to her. He wants to cup her chin, feel her, to make sure she’s as real as the bricks that make up the shop or Asra’s arm through his. “God, Eustacia…”

Even through his gloves, she is warm and solid leaning into his palm.

+

When the thing that might’ve been Lucio took hold of her forty years ago, her body was destroyed, but Julian’s remaining eye had ruptured, and his body had collapsed. He never saw the way Lucio had carried out her plans, pulling the thread that would undo her entire existence, particle-by-particle, until there was only a scorch to read on the floor.

Her mind, her soul—whatever the thing that made Eustacia Eustacia—had joined Lucio in his neither here nor there purgatory, and she’d spent decades rebuilding herself from memory.

Then she spent more rebuilding Lucio, rending apart the animal imagery of him, resurrecting the human he’d once been. Harshly limiting him and what he’d become. Making him as inert and harmless as a single raindrop separate from the ocean and the storm.

His reconstruction was the biggest undertaking of her life, dismantling him almost completely and weaving the tapestry of him back together with a cosmic, impossible thread she’d spun from the Count’s remnants and the pieces of herself she had to give to make the skein stretch.

A masterwork, a creation that would’ve blinded and ruined the hands of even master weavers.

Forty years she spent on this project, this duty, and she’d lost track of time. For this, she would never forgive herself.

+

She can’t stop staring at either of them, and Julian can’t stop staring back at her. Asra sits close and hardly stops touching her, because his eyes are bad and he can’t stop making sure either. Lucio, however, still cannot stand not being the center of attention, and he tells their tale as loudly as his lungs will bark, filling the crowded shop kitchenette to the rafters with his voice.

“And we ended up dragging ourselves out of a mirror at the bottom of a river. Not some piss-poor little creek, a river half a mile wide, raging with the midsummer melt. She ended up breathing for us until we washed up on shore, naked—”

Julian snaps his attention to the former Count and he spits, “For the love of god, is that part of what she did for you? If you ever stop talking for one fucking second you’ll turn back into dust? I’ll hold my hand over your damn mouth, don’t think I won’t.”

“Honestly, Eustacia,” Asra sighs, rubbing her knuckles, “I’m in agreement with Ilya. You’re being awful quiet. I thought you’d have a lot to talk about after four decades dealing with him.”

“I’m so sorry,” she rasps, cupping her mouth to hold back more crying. “There’s so much I ended up missing.”

For the first time since he’s set eye on her, Julian can muster a laugh. He drops his chin on his palm and leans toward her. “Pasha and Nadia married, had a passel of children, and got old. Asra and I moved in together, had many arguments, and got old. Muriel owns a veritable ranch, had two dozen prize roosters, and got old. All caught up. Any questions for the panel?”

She still looks miserable and tremulous, glancing from him to Asra and back, brushing the back of his hand and heaving a shuddering sigh when he takes hold of it and kisses her knuckles. “Were you happy? All of you?”

“Yes, incredibly,” Asra says.

“Well, he’s an unrepentant blanket thief, but other than that, I have no complaints,” Julian says, suffering Asra’s withering look with a grin.

“And there’s the only thing I wanted from this life,” she laughs, watery.

“Oh, seriously?” Lucio groans, resting his arm over the back of his chair. He sneers right back at her warning look, scoffing when she takes back her hands and plants them flat on the table. “Get as moody as you want, Eustacia, but this—peace on earth, good will toward men shit?”

He looks between Asra and Julian’s glance, his lips pulled back from his teeth in his signature grin. “It’s a load of horse shit. She dragged us here for a reason, and now she’s turning coward.”

While Julian would like to hop up and put Lucio through the second story window, he’s too brittle for such movement. He settles on antagonizing him. “Is this a bad time to ask if there’s a reason why he’s here, or is that acceptable? Because, as far as I can see, there isn’t one.”

“I can’t find one for either of us,” she grunts, pushing away from the table. “Thank you, Lucio, you’ve made sure it’s time to leave now.”

“You’re leaving?” Asra tries to stand and loses his balance, grabbing her arm and falling back into his chair. He keeps a hold on her wrist, searching out her face with his rheumy eyes. “You just got home.”

“Because she—”

“Lucio, don’t dare—”

“—intended to ask you two to come with her,” he finishes primly, ducking forward. “She missed you terribly.”

Her fist crashes against the table, silencing the room. “I should’ve left you in fucking pieces.”

“But you didn’t, darling,” Lucio laughs, leering at the two old men around the table. “She wants to make you young again, take you tramping around on all the adventures she missed out on. I’d gotten sick of hearing about it, with the way she dwells and dwells.”

The silence rings.

And Julian breaks it.

“Yes.” His voice is ragged, rusted, ancient, but sure. He’s never been so sure of anything. He nods and looks to Asra, then Eustacia. “Yes, I’ll come with you. I, there aren’t any ties binding me here anymore, I could leave tonight. Asra—?”

The magician stands on shaking legs, cupping the witch’s face in his hands. “Did you really think I’d say no? Either of us?”

“…You’re living full lives,” she mutters, eyes rolling as she swallows too hard. “I couldn’t…I can’t ask you to leave them.”

Helplessly, Asra looks to Julian, pleading with his eyes for him to find the words he can’t. Forcing himself to his feet, he ignores the way his knees crack and his back twinges. His hand finds its way under Asra’s, and rests on her neck. He rubs his thumb in the dip between her collarbones.

“You weren’t there. That’s not actually something I think either of us would call a full life.”

Her breathing is shallow as she breaks into the nervous laughter he’s dreamt of for decades, and she cries and kisses his hand, her fingers in Asra’s hair with his body pulled close. Lucio rocks his chair back onto two legs and snorts, “Heartwarming. Can we move this along? I wasn’t lying—I really hate Vesuvia.”

+

Doctor Devorak’s strapping, red-haired nephew delivers his resignation to the medical oddities museum, and the doctor’s assistant thinks to ask how strange it is that he’s also missing his right eye. “Wouldn’t that be a story? We cut each other’s eyes out—muhaha. But, no, it’s just a defect that runs in the family.”

People think the magician Asra, known far and wide, has finally taken an apprentice when a lovely young stranger with a snake around his shoulders is seen blowing out all the lanterns, taking down the shop’s shingle, and locking the charmed doors. “Oh, no. He’s retired, I’m just closing down for him. He, the doctor, and an old flame eloped.”

They find each other, and then they find the witch and her ward on the docks, duffel bags waiting at their feet. “Enormous world out there,” she ponders aloud, tapping a finger against her thin lips. “I was thinking of going south and abandoning Lucio in his homeland, first.”

Lucio rolls his eyes, flipping a dagger end over end in the hand of his new and significantly less gaudy prosthetic. “If wishes were horses, Eustacia,” he warns.

“Lucio’s homeland it is,” Asra laughs.

“If he makes it that far…” Julian hums.

Eustacia grins and fidgets, her eyes cracking like lightning strikes as she surges forward, grabbing them both. Without words and without needing them, her mouth takes turns finding theirs, her hands roam as much as they can, greedy and demanding as they both remember.

Like the magic she’d painstakingly funneled into their bodies, giving back what time had seen fit to wear away, her kisses taste like drowning in cider, honey.

Julian breaks apart from her for air, and presses close against her and Asra, smelling the salt scent of the sea’s chop. He’s somehow an old man and a young one, and he is reckless in love with his heart in his throat.

All he can see stretching out before him are warm days full of friends (and Lucio, god dammit), nights that are never dull, and Pasha never having reason to cry again.

In the end, he has gotten everything he wanted.

[sunlitpeony]

🌈- A memory about when they first fell in love

memory drabble meme

written to: “ someone to stay ” by vancouver sleep clinic

             ❝ the end of the day and we’re helpless ; can you keep me close? can you love me? ❞

♬ | Outside, the snow continues to fall without a sound, nearly reverent in its silence tonight. Those embers dying in the hearth can scarce be called a fire any longer, and the same might be said of the resolve that once sparked behind the diminutive Au Ra’s breast. Certainty had gradually given way to doubt, doubt to fear, and fear to sorrow, and so she sits alone in her room long grown dark and cold. Her wounds ache terribly, skin broken and bleeding where it had been slashed and bitten by blade and arrow both, and even now she can smell the sharp scent through her bandages. It is heavy and metallic and makes her stomach churn, bringing her right back to that moment in the desert of Thanalan when it all began to unravel in spectacular fashion.

She hugs her knees closer to her chest, wincing at the cuts to her thighs and shins. Had it even started then? She is not so sure anymore – as time drags on and on, measured by soft breaths and harsh truths, she finds her heart has been thrown into chaos. So much of the past few months have given her cause to question, but none have weighed so heavily on her mind as this.

As Arbert had borne down on her, she had been completely powerless to resist. Binding magics had seized control of her body, keeping her arms pressed firmly to her sides, and no matter how she had squirmed, had struggled, had strained, her limbs had been as lead – they answered to none but the gravity of the earth itself. She could see nothing, could do nothing, and for a single sickening second she had been so certain that it was the end. In the dark the blade of his axe began to sing, honed into a killing edge and poised for a killing blow. One life for one world, only the very fairest of exchanges, and with unimpeachable authority in his voice he had declared the battle won. Of course, it had not come to pass. Urianger’s timely arrival granted them all their freedom and the opportunity to turn the tide, but the damage had been done… and now she struggles to understand what to do with this blow dealt her.

Because at that moment, it was not Arbert’s voice she listened to… that she even really heard at all. Someone else’s had surfaced in the back of her mind to drown it out. His. Soft. Like a whisper. Like a secret told to her and her alone, only she did not yet understand just what it was that the secret meant. Everything about it had been gentle, the antithesis to the violence she and hers suffered out on the sands, and the sound of it – even imagined as it had been – made her want to cry. It spoke to her of careful hands that smoothed her hair, of fingertips that traced the edges of her scales, of an arm and then another that wrapped around her to chase away the ghosts of loss that haunted her steps at night.

Ane had thought she was going to die, and all she could think of was Aymeric.

She presses her face to her forearms, paying little attention to how it makes her injuries sting. She moves as though making herself as small as possible will make the feeling go away – as though she was not already as tiny and insignificant as one could become. If anything, the feeling finds strength in her isolation, and the longer she spends by herself, the more insistent this confused and tired secret in her heart becomes. As the honeysuckle reaches and climbs, as it grasps and grows, so too had this feeling inside of her, twisting and tightening until it became a hopeless tangle of words and gestures. She does not know when the world began to turn upside down, and here in the quiet dark of the inn, she realizes that it was not everything else that was wrong way up but that it was she herself. She was what had started to change in such a profound and painful way – it had only felt to be the other way round. She cannot remember when she had started to slip, when she had suddenly lost the purchase of the ground beneath her feet and found herself hurtling into the sky… when the heavens and the earth then exchanged places and sent her head over heels in freefall. It had been such a subtle change that she hardly realized it at all, something that had become a far gentler thing than she deserved to be a part of – even unwittingly. Everything just felt so much better with him by her side, even those impossible and untenable situations. All became softened by his steadfast presence, and she had come to treasure it… to treasure him. Each smile was a precious sound in her sightless world, a curve of his lips that she wanted to hear over and over again. Each time he did something that made her laugh, the burden on her shoulders grew just a little bit lighter – even if only for a single moment. Each brush of their hands eased the pain that ached in her chest, set there as though in stone by self-hatred and loneliness, and each time she drew a little closer. It had become harder and harder to resist, to pull away and divorce herself from familiarity for the sake of duty and obligation, and so he had carefully caught his hands in the cracks of her armor and took it apart. She had wanted him to. He had ruined her guard by virtue of being himself alone, and he had done so so effortlessly. It simply didn’t make sense to fight against it any longer, not when she now lacked the desire to do so.

Aymeric had stolen away into the corners of her melancholy heart, and against her better judgement Ane had allowed him to.

Her sleeves grow damp beneath her head and the emotion that weighs it down, and as she lifts her face she feels the tears fall down her cheeks instead. Never in all her life had she met someone who made her seem so unlike herself, and yet, with Aymeric she felt more like herself than with anyone else. The laugh that quits her lips is as fragile and broken as the rest of her, and like her decision to distance herself from his companionship, the sound vanishes like nothing into the dark. None of it makes any sense at all, and she is helpless before this feeling that makes her heart ache. She does not know its name, does not know what to call it even when the secret carries on its whispering…

The winter air is biting against her face when she sets out into the night, stopping only to catch her cloak up in her hands and draping it about her shoulders. Ishgard’s streets are empty and silent, vacant on account of the hour. Never has everything been so unknown and so frightening as the world now feels all around her, but as she swallows down her doubts and finds her way to the manor, one thing alone is certain:

Ane is alive, and all she can think of is Aymeric.

{ mentioned: @aymeric-the-blue }

[shewhowantsmouseears]

Love Like Lava, 1

Notes: Welcome to my newest project - Love Like Lava, a Greek Myth AU about Aphrodite and Hephaestus! For those of you who knew me under a different account, you'll recognize that I tried and failed to do this story before. But now that I've got two amazing editors on my side, why not give it another go? And let me get this straight right away : I don't intend to follow the Greek Myths to the exact letter, cause... well, that'd make this a very gross story. I think of it more as re-imaging a fairy tale, like I did with The Nutcracker, Segreto/The Little Mermaid, Grimm City/Red Riding Hood, etc. As always, tremendous amounts of thanks for my wonderful editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted. Summary: The lives of all the Gods and Goddesses are about to change when Aphrodite arrives. But who is she, where did she come from, and what will she do? Even she has no idea.

It started with a feeling. It was small, at first, tugging at the back at the minds of all the gods and goddesses, be they on Mount Olympus, in the depths of the Underworld, or taking their pleasures in the realm of mortals. A whisper of their own voices told them “something is coming”. Many of the higher-ups, like Hera, the queen of the gods, and Ares, the arrogant god of war, ignored the message – something was always coming, they reasoned, such as the start of a new day. But when the new day came, the feeling grew stronger – something was coming. With each and every passing day, this feeling got stronger, the voices louder until it couldn't be ignored. It wasn't even apparent whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, only that something that was coming. Eventually the lower godly creatures, such as Persephone the demigoddess, and the nymphs and mermaids and satyrs, could no longer hold themselves back, and spoke about it in hushed tones. The conversation moved up higher and higher on the chain until no one on Mount Olympus could ignore it – something was coming.

Zeus, ruler of all the gods, was the most frightened – prophecies had been told that a son would dethrone him, as he had done to his father, and his father had done to his own. Thus he commanded that all the gods and goddesses to scour the mortal lands for the thing that was coming. Perhaps one of the hundreds of ladies he had frolicked with was expecting. So far, no child of his had ever had the power or will to take what belonged to him, but the fear ate away inside of him. When his searchers would return with no news, he would roar at them to search again, holding his fists high as a warning to their next failure.

Soon he demanded the search be spread among the demigods, the nymphs, the mermaids, the satyrs, and all who were not mortal. Days were spent in wasteful looking, and it became mutually agreed that whatever was coming, it wasn’t wanted. The thing wasn’t even here yet and it was already causing so much trouble. Some of the more nefarious immortals thought of killing the something upon seeing it. The more peaceful gods overheard this, and argued that they needed to give the something a chance. One particular argument of this fashion occurred on a large beach that wasn’t too far from Mount Olympus. The angry ones and the peaceful ones argued incessantly, ready to grab their weapons and brutally prove their way if that’s what it took.

But before a sword could leave its scabbard or a spear could be lobbied, they all felt a new feeling wash over their minds. Instead of being told something was coming, now the feeling said something was there. All their heads turned toward the ocean. During their yelling and stomping of feet, a large pink seashell larger than the tallest mortal ever born had slid onto the sand. Silence fell on the group as the seashell opened, and the occupant brushed off sea foam from her dress. After getting herself partially cleaned up, she stepped out of the shell, trying to keep her flowing dress from getting wet. She was a young lady mouse, fur as dark as the furthest depths of the ocean, and eyes shining like brilliant sea shells. Little wisps of hair curled around her large ears, rolling back and forth like waves on a calm day. She then looked up at the mighty gods and goddesses and smiled. “Hello,” she chirped. “Would you mind telling me where I am?”

And thus, the goddess Aphrodite arrived into the world.

~*~

Mount Olympus was an infinite space, defying both time and logic. It was a mystical mountain, forged on the tallest point on the planet, unable to be seen by any human. It reached out into the stars, and stretched across endless floors and chairs, with an infinite supply of food and drink of all kinds. Dark clouds floated in and out of their sanctuary, typically surrounding the most imperial thrones belonging to Zeus and Hera. It was an all-encompassing space, yet at that moment, Zeus thought their home felt very crowded. That probably had to do with the entire trail of gods and goddess following the new figure he was unfamiliar with. Hera wasn't with him, which was good fortune for Aphrodite – most likely she was drinking away her anger and sorrows. Lord Zeus looked down from his throne at the newcomer, and he drew a long breath as he got a good look at her. “What’s this?” His mighty voice boomed, slamming a hand down on his chair in delight. “What is this marvelous creature that has stepped before me?”

The newborn goddess blinked up at him. Was she supposed to answer that? She looked behind at her at all the men and women gazing so intensely upon her. “I’m not sure,” she finally responded. “They told me to come up here.” She shrugged, but it was the simple truth. They'd forgotten their quarrel and immediately grabbed her by her tiny wrists, heading right to the mountain in song and celebration. The goddess kept asking important questions, such as who they were and where she was, but her efforts went ignored. After a while, she decided to try and be patient and hope the answers would be delivered.

“Mount Olympus has been blessed!” Zeus declared, standing up and waving a hand. “For this is the goddess that surpasses all others! We will redefine beauty in her name and image! Let us all praise and celebrate!” He stomped his foot hard, and as the newcomer heard all the wild cheering behind her, she began to realize Zeus wasn’t exactly talking to her – or listening. He grabbed a handful of clouds, and threw it down on the floor, instantly materializing it to a chair adorned with jewels. “Here shall she sit, as one of us!”

She raised her black-furred hand in a small attempt to be noticed. “It’s very nice, but I’d like to ask-”

“And her name shall be… Aphrodite!” Zeus continued onward, and the newly named goddess squeaked as multiple arms lifted her up, plopping her into the seat. “Goddess of beauty! And…” Only then did Zeus pause in his incredibly loud speech. He turned his head toward her, eyes transfixed. Aphrodite shrugged again, helpless to his inquiry. How was she supposed to give him any answers when he wouldn't offer any first? But at least having a name was nice. After a moment of intense study between the two, Zeus waved again, his firm hand outstretched. “And goddess of love! All hail Goddess Aphrodite! Let the celebration begin!”

And so it was echoed back and forth between the crowd.

“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”

“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”

“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”

Aphrodite sighed heavily, leaning on an open palm and watching the party begin. All right, so today she wasn't going to get any answers. At least everyone seemed to be happy, though for a celebration all about her it seemed to barely include her. Maybe tomorrow someone would finally listen to what she had to say.

~*~

The celebration lasted an entire month, full of drink and feasting. It was difficult to tell whether Zeus was celebrating the arrival of such a lovely goddess or that he was incredibly relieved the prophecy hadn’t been fulfilled. Yet all of the gods, save for eternally jealous Hera who spent her time either drinking heavily or glaring daggers at the new woman, were happy to join in the merriment. As the declared the goddess of love and beauty, they continuously praised her body, her face, her eyes, all which exuded her loveliness. The goddess mostly accepted these things without asking anything, nodding and going along with whatever they were saying. However as the month of partying continued, the goddess felt boredom building up inside of her. She wasn’t rude enough to say so as her tiny feet dangled off her imperial throne, but she was rather looking forward to the whole thing ending. Maybe then she could finally do something.

When the month was over and the gods resumed their lives, Aphrodite hopped off of her chair, and started to walk. It felt wonderful to move again! She skipped, she twirled, she bounced, but it occurred to her that if she dilly-dallied too long here, the others might suddenly praise the beauty of her movement and a whole new party would start. She absolutely had to get away before that nonsense picked up again.

But where to go? No one had ever answered her questions, so when she looked down at the fluffy clouds that made up the floor, she tilted her head in thought. With a wave of her hand, the clouds parted, and she saw the whole scope of the mortal realm before her. Having little to no idea of what was below, she decided it couldn't possibly be any more boring than Mount Olympus. So she jumped.

~*~

The demi-goddess Persephone didn’t notice she had company at first. She was taking a nap on a flowerbed, imagining sordid things between her and her husband. It was one of her favorite hobbies on the mortal plane, and many elaborate gardens had been born whenever she felt like taking a snooze. Today she'd been found a particularly grassy area a stone's throw from a mortal village, and she flopped on her back without hesitation. Later that day, the villagers would find a whole collection of roses, daises and honeysuckles to pick from. As for this moment, when she turned over in her rest, her hand brushed upon a very silky texture. Knowing no flower had such a feel, her eyes popped open, and she looked at her guest.

Goddess Aphrodite was perhaps the smallest goddess to have ever grace Olympus. Since her form was a mouse, this was to be expected – though Aphrodite had heard murmurs during the party that someone named Hephaestus used to be the tiniest. Her black fur was neatly smoothed down at all times, as was her dress, that color of sea foam that always seemed to be flowing around her despite the lack of wind. A pretty little lock of bangs hung from her forehead and Persephone noted that her eyes seemed to change color – perhaps to better suit whoever was looking at her. For Persephone, they were grass green, and the newcomer smiled. “Hello.”

Persephone needed a moment to collect herself – she had never seen someone so beautiful before. She blinked hard, trying to get out of her stupor, but in doing so, she realized exactly who this must have been. “Are sudden entrances your thing now?” Persephone forced herself to sit up, brushing flower petals off of herself. She hadn’t meant to sound irritable, but she had been awoken from a particularly lovely dream. She ran a hand over her head, flattening her white feathers, and her dress squeezed itself against her body to give a better appearance. If one took a better look, they would see her dress was actually made out of thin vines wrapping around herself. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be having another round back on the mountain.”

“That got boring,” Aphrodite admitted with a shrug. Her eyes kept roaming all over Persephone, curiosity in every blink. Though she was trying to be still, she kept leaning in to get a better look at this and that. “I wanted to come down here and see what we ruled over.”

“And you started with me?” Persephone’s frown on her beak grew larger. She was not one to be ruled over – she had gotten more than enough of that from her overprotective mother.

“No. I wanted to know what these were.” Aphrodite pointed to above Persephone’s head.

Persephone glanced up – she wasn’t surprised to see the incredibly tall roses that had grown during her slumber. They had hunched over so they could coat her with petals, but now that she was up, they had started to shrink down in respect. “What, you’ve never seen a rose before? I thought you were the all-knowing symbol of love and beauty.” She smirked in a bit of a mean fashion, but it stopped when Aphrodite shrugged again.

“That’s what they say,” Aphrodite replied casually, picking up one of the rose petals and twisting it around her fingers to inspect it. She would've eaten it if Persephone didn't look at her with wide eyes, and so she let it drop back to the ground.

Persephone also picked a rose petal up, and rubbed it between her fingers. It smeared red on her fingers, which she used to add blush to her cheeks. “They’re called roses. Since I’ve got rule over plants like my mother, they tend to pop up whenever I think of someone I love.”

Aphrodite plucked a whole rose for herself, admiring it. “It’s very pretty.” The rose appeared to bow in her hands, the thorns falling off one by one in reverence. She seemed a little disappointed that even plants were treating her as super special.

Persephone hesitated, studying Aphrodite's bizarre expression. She'd heard a few things from her mother about Aphrodite – but come to think of it, it had all been about her beauty. Nothing else of notice. Nothing about her personality, nothing about her intelligence, not even if she preferred red over blue. With a rare dash of humility and pity, Persephone sat on her knees and straightened herself up, in order to start over and make a proper introduction as one immortal to another. “My Goddess name is Persephone. My chosen name is Daisy.” She lowered her head respectfully, as did all the flowers in tune with her.

Aphrodite looked up the rose, having started to pick its petals for herself. She had wanted to see what the “inside” of a rose looked like, but the concept of different names threw her off. “What’s a chosen name?”

Persephone – Daisy, rather, now stared twice as hard. Hadn’t this newborn goddess been told anything? Then it hit her hard – this really was a newborn, in the biggest sense of the word. “Sheesh,” she muttered under her breath. “All they did was tell you that you look good.” She began to stand up, making this decision more out of annoyance than real responsibility. “Look, if you want to hang out around me, you’re going to learn how things work. First off, the chosen name is what you give yourself after Zeus gives you a name. It’s what you allow your friends and family to call you, those that mean something to you.”

Aphrodite brightened considerably, dropping the forgotten flower and clasping her hands together eagerly. “Does this mean we’re friends?” The partygoers had been nice, in a way, but they weren't exactly what one could call friends. If what she thought of the concept was true, then she desperately wanted a friend.

Daisy almost said no. She looked down at the tiny goddess, whose innocent eyes sparkled with discovery. The dear probably didn’t have any actual friends. Daisy clicked her tongue and then held her hand out. “Yes, we are. Now come along, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

The two goddesses went out into the mortal world, one teaching the other. It shocked and angered Daisy that her companion had been told so astonishingly little. Daisy hadn't been at the party, as she'd chosen to never visit Olympus. Her mother, Demeter, had gone to the celebration the first couple of days, more out of obligation more than anything else, and she had only seen a few glimpses of Aphrodite. Each time, she told her daughter, Aphrodite had been sitting on her new seat while the gods poured gifts at her feet, telling her how beautiful she was. Daisy now realized that was the only thing they did to her and with her. They hadn’t treated her as a new member of Olympus, but instead as more of a trophy, something to admire on the mantle. This made it difficult to teach at first, as Daisy continued to assume that Aphrodite would know the simplest of things, yet Daisy would only be rewarded with a head tilt.

Thankfully, it turned out Aphrodite had a personality under her naivety. She was cheerful and pleasant, able to find happiness in the smallest of lessons. She cared deeply for others, even those she just met, and she eagerly enjoyed each new thing she learned. Yet she was so bored of all those men and women who slobbered at her feet and told her she was pretty, pretty, pretty...yes, she got the idea but what else was there? She didn’t even like being worshipped. Daisy found herself being drawn to the dear, although she couldn't tell if this was actually friendship or pity. Either way, Aphrodite was happy.

The day was almost over when they walked into that small mortal village, the sun sinking into the earth. Mortals could not see them unless the goddesses wished for it, and for now, the two were content to be hidden. Daisy had been leading Aphrodite to the local temple, which worshipped the god of war, Ares. “See, when we have temples, people come here to pray to whatever god is housed there.” This temple was the tallest building in the village, and murals on the walls depicted famous battles. Aphrodite didn’t care for it. The murals were ghastly in their depictions of the loss of life, and instead of praising a victor, the paintings praised the actual taking of lives. She could smell dust and rotted animal meat from within and she grimaced.

“Sometimes they ask us for favors, or guidance,” Daisy continued, ignoring Aphrodite’s disgust, though she too found the temple to be quite garish. “Or they just thank us. Since this is Ares’ temple, they come here to ask for his help when they know a fight is coming.”

“What if whoever they’re fighting also prays to him?” Aphrodite asked, stepping away from the temple that seemed to tower over her in a superior fashion.

“Usually, whoever makes the best sacrifice gets the win.” Daisy now started to notice Aphrodite’s displeasure, and tried to think of a way to change the subject while still teaching her friend. “I suppose when you get a temple made, they’ll come to you asking for good luck on their weddings, since you're the goddess of love.” Then she paused. Here was another lesson in a lesson. “A wedding is when two people-”

“I know what a wedding is!” Aphrodite suddenly interrupted, whipping her head around.

Daisy stopped, startled. Aphrodite had to be told what certain animals were, what rain was, and even the names of gods she already met. “…You do?”

“Oh, yes!” Aphrodite was getting cheerful again, but it was much more than before. She was rocking on her heels, hands clasped together. “I know all about them. That’s when two people pledge their love for one another with a special ceremony. They declare how much they care for each other with their family and friends present.” She placed her hands over her chest, as if she was the blushing bride. “They exchange golden rings which become a symbol of their love to whoever they meet. They vow to love only each other, for the rest of their lives. And everyone there celebrates their unity.”

Daisy’s eyebrow quirked up. “You didn’t know what roses were, but you know that much about weddings? Who told you?”

“No one told me. I just know.” Aphrodite shrugged. It had come as naturally to her as breathing. Was this really so strange? She was afraid for a moment that she had offended her first and only friend, and began to twiddle her thumbs as she waited for Daisy's response.

Daisy mulled over this for a few seconds, rubbing her beak in contemplation. True, most gods knew automatically about whatever they ruled over – Daisy knew everything and anything about seeds and trees, but she had assumed Aphrodite had only been given the title goddess of love due to her beauty. “Aphrodite, do you know what a scroll is?”

Aphrodite shook her head. “No.” It seemed to bother her that she didn’t know it, frowning.

“Do you know what a date is?”

Instantly Aphrodite was full of wonderment and excitement, hands clapping twice as she babbled on. “That’s when two people want to test their love by going out into the world and spending time together! That way they can see if they want to spend even more time together!”

“What’s a dog?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s a love letter?”

“That’s when a person expresses their heartfelt emotions through writing! Sometimes it’s a secret! They write it out on a…” She then paused, eyes moving left to right, as something clicked together in her mind. “Oh, they write it on a scroll, don’t they?” She even mimicked the action, looking at Daisy for approval.

Daisy nodded but her mind was elsewhere. Though the gods had definitely idolized her beauty too much, they had gotten one aspect of it right. For one reason or another, Aphrodite knew everything about love, and as long as something was connected to love, she would know that too. It was bizarre, but Daisy couldn’t help but find some amusement in it. She chuckled, a few petals falling off of her hair. “You’re a little weird, you know that, right?”

Aphrodite blinked. “What’s ‘weird’?”

“…What’s a honeymoon?”

“Oh! That’s when the married couple decide to continue celebrating their newfound unity…” And on and on Aphrodite rambled with Daisy visibly holding back laughter. At least she was eager about the subject which people would pray to her over. She could think of a few gods who loathed their duty, and theirs tended to be a miserable existence. But Aphrodite was in love with love.

When night finally fell, Daisy lamented she had to return home before her mother threw a fit. Aphrodite asked why she didn’t live on Mount Olympus, and Daisy’s face momentarily turned dark, her eyes cast away. “It’s not exactly a welcoming place for me and my husband, like it was during your party.” She said quietly, rubbing her arm. “Some of us aren’t allowed to stay there...and others choose not to stay at all.” Her voice was bitter, harsher than her first moments of sarcasm when she met Aphrodite. The mouse could understand not wanting to stay there, given the boredom she felt, but she didn’t know why there was such acidity in Daisy’s voice. There was history, but Aphrodite could see this wasn’t hers to discover yet. Instead, she tried to make the situation happy.

“Well, before we go, I chose a name.” She smiled, rocking back and forth on her bare feet in anticipation.

It did the trick and Daisy looked back at her with a relaxed expression. “What is it?”

“Everyone in the party commented on how small I was. So I thought I’d go with Minnie. Like 'mini'? Is that all right? Do you like it?”

Daisy smiled as well, a flower blossoming on her shoulder, one that Minnie had yet to learn the name for. “I like it. It suits you. Come see me again, okay? It’s embarrassing to have a high ranked goddess know so little.” Yet even as she said such a thing, her face was soft, speaking to her real friend. Daisy had tried not to make her into one, yet there Minnie was, taking a piece of Daisy's heart without meaning to.

They hugged each other, and Minnie was very happy to have such an extended vocabulary because of this fun girl. She liked Daisy very much. As she made her way back to Olympus, she figured out why – Daisy had simply been real with her. She said what she honestly thought of Minnie – that name was growing on her more and more with every minute – and even expressed negative emotions to her. It had been a thrill.

~*~

Here she was in Olympus again, and every god and goddess that noticed her stopped what they were doing in order to gawk. Slack jaws, wide eyes, throats swallowing, she had become used to the looks and noises. Those that could speak praised her, but did not speak to her.

“Hail, Goddess Aphrodite!”

“The sun shines on the beauty of Aphrodite!”

“I can die, now that those eyes have gazed upon me!”

Blah blah blah – that had been another thing Daisy had taught her, and Minnie giggled as she remembered. She almost thought about telling the passersby her chosen name, but then decided against it. If they hadn’t bothered to tell her such a thing existed, why bother sharing it with them? She found her throne, once again adorned in extravagant gifts, and brushed them off to sit down. Gods and goddesses didn’t need to eat, but Minnie enjoyed the act of eating. It had been another way of learning. She picked up a fresh batch of purple round things – she’d have to ask Daisy what they were next time - and popped one into her mouth. It was juicy and sweet, and Minnie enjoyed them.

“Sooo, someone’s been around my temple!” a loud voice rumbled above her, as Minnie had been ready to eat another purple circle. She knew that voice well – this had been one of her constant visitors during the party.

Ares, the god of war, was bigger than her in every sense of the word. Now only did he tower above her as his temple had, his girth said he had probably eaten more of the purple rounds than the world had to offer. It was difficult to tell he was a feline, given that his hot red helmet hid his ears, and most of his body was the same way – covered in shiny red and gold armor as if he was expected to fight in the next second. But you could see his face well enough, as his yellow eyes bore down on Minnie.

“I guess I did,” Minnie answered, rolling a purple round in her fingers.

Ares laughed at that, banging his fist against the plate on his chest, and so made himself even louder. “That’s a good eye you got there! Makin’ sure you done seen the best temple for the best god around! It’s a real amazin’ temple, ain’t it?”

“Well,” Minnie tried to be honest, moving around so she was sitting upright and politely, “I only saw it because Daisy…Persephone was showing me around.”

Ares seemed to ignore certain parts of that sentence. “Persephone! She’s up and around?” He rubbed his hand under his chin full of stubble. “Guess it ain’t time yet for that husband of hers ta drag her back down below…Ya might wanna stay clear of her, or a pretty thing like yerself might get kidnapped!”

Minnie’s brows knit together. “She didn’t mention anything like that.”

“Well, who would?” Pete found this funny, making his loud, banging laugh again. “Havin’ ta hitch up with the god of death, that’s probably worse than death! Get it? HAR HAR HAR HAR!”

Minnie didn’t laugh, and instead popped several round purples into her mouth in order to have an excuse. She didn’t like this lesson.  She didn't like Ares. “I like her. She’s my friend.”

“Aw, now don’t go poutin’ like that… Course, even when yer poutin’ yer the prettiest thing around!” He slipped an arm around Minnie’s shoulders and his armor was cold. She shivered. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya. We gotta take care of our new goddess. Hey, let’s have another round for the most beautiful gal in the realm!” He raised a fist to his passing brethren, and they cheered for Pete’s enthusiasm. “You just sit tight and I’ll go getcha a good drink, gorgeous!” He squeezed her tightly in a one-armed hug that smelled of blood, before bounding off.

“I don’t want…” But it was useless, and she knew it. With a loud sigh, she declined to eat any further. She eased back into her seat as another party began to start up, thanks to Ares. Those that noticed she had started to nap praised that even asleep and curled up, she was as beautiful as ever.

“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”

“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”

“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”