Archive | May 12, 2017

The Gardener, a story of Fae Apoc for Patreon

This is one of those that wandered off from the prompt, but I didn’t notice until I was done.  So have at. 🙂


The cherry trees needed extra buds plucked and the wisteria needed trimming; the dwarf willow in the tiny garden needed to be convinced back from the bench and the tomatoes in the vegetable patch needed weeding.

Damkina was humming. If the rain held off until past noon, it would be a good day.

Gardens, like people, came and went, Damkina had long since learned, albeit in a slower, more vegetal manner.  This one was young, not even a century old yet, and the people who believed they were employing her to maintain it had no idea who she really was.

That was fine with her.  She preferred anonymity to notoriety.
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Own the Fate

After Fated, for my Fourth Finish It Bingo Card.

At the third adoption agency, Karen acknowledged that her family and the power were definitely getting in her way. Before she called the fourth – they lived near a big enough city, but there was still a limit – she visited her Aunt Becka.

She brought Aunt Becka’s favorite sweet rolls and a fresh box of her favorite tea.

And while they ate rolls and gossiped about the family, she swirled her mug and studied the leaves at the bottom.

Everyone had always told her she had no skill for it, no art. She looked at the leaves and saw a cradle.

“Here, dear.” Aunt Becka reached for the mug, and pulled her fingers back when sparks lit up between them.
“Oh!” She chuckled, sounding more pleased than the old woman had sounded in some time. “So you’ve decided to own it, have you?”

Karen thought about her answer for a moment. You had to be careful; words you said around family had a habit of coming back to bite you a decade later. “I think it’s decided to own me. But that being so, well.
I’m not going to be jerked around by it.”

“Good for you, girl. Good for you. Now, as for that pesky problem you’re having with the family, here, I can show you how to get around it. I do wish you’d come to me quite some time earlier, but they have their ideas, don’t they, and they push them and push them.” She pulled out a small silk bag full of bones and tossed them across the table. “So. You’ve been pushed a bit. Here, there, your mother’s the worst but there’s three other aunts involved and, bless her soul, your great-grandmother. Want to learn how to teach them to mind their own business?”

Karen sighed. “I’m no good at magic. I never have been.”

“Well.” Aunt Becka raised her eyebrows. “And who told you that, mmm?”

“My mother, my grandmother, and Aunt Zelda, Aunt Laurel…”

“Mmm-hrrm. And exactly what do they have to gain by you being good at magic? I know you never wanted this, Karen. I know, sweet child, that you dodged the least quickly. But I’m not dead yet. I have…” She tossed the bones again and contemplated that. “Something like three years, three weeks, and three days left, although that could be Fate messing with me, what with the threes. Anyway. There’s time and enough for us to get you ready.”

“But…” Karen put her face in her hands. “It will let me have a child?”

“It will let you adopt a child. Clever, that. Nobody’s really gone that way again, although there was one, now who was it…”

Aunt Becka liked to play at being senile. Her hair was all grey and wispy and her eyes were often clouded over, her face more wrinkle than skin, but when she looked up at Karen, remembering something in the far past, there was no doubt that she was still all there. “[-]. Now she was a fun one, if her diaries and her sisters’ diaries are to be believed. When her sister passed, she took in all her sisters’ children. And the husband. Now didn’t the grannies fret about that one!”

Karen couldn’t help but smile at her Aunt’s expression. And at the thought of making the grannies fret, if she was being honest. “So it can be done.”

“It can. But first, child, you are going to have to learn. We’re going to start with something simple, the cards. This set is a pretty gentle one.” The box was hand-made and the cards were clearly hand-painted. The family didn’t even play bridge with store-bought cards, much less do divination.

Karen slid the cards out of the box carefully and ran her fingers over the top card, a portrait of a woman who might have been an Aunt, a long time ago. She had that look.

“Now. You’ve done these before, right?”

“Just for play, with practice cards.”

“Then clear your mind, shuffle the deck, and think about – let’s say think about four years from now.”

She’d said she’d be dead in a little over three years. Karen closed her eyes and shuffled, thinking of The Near Future. She focused on amorphous time-coming-up and thought about the way the trees changed in the summer.

The cards seemed to spark under her fingers. She laid out a simple spread in a hurry, because it felt like her hands were on fire, and set the deck to the side. When she opened her eyes, Aunt Becka was staring at the cards.

The spread was sloppy, but that was secondary. The card in the center was a supernova. The card didn’t even exist, as far as Karen knew.

And Death and Luck flanked it, and below it was Growth.

“Well.” Aunt Becka coughed. “The cards like you. That’s going to make everything a little more interesting. Tell me, who exactly said you had no power?”

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Plans – more Beauty-beast

After M/m Keeper/Kept and Keeper’s Interview and Needs a Title and Bad Titling is Catching and More M/m, when I’d given up on titles and The Driver Weighs Inand Sal’s Questions and Claws and Monsters and Weapons and Impressions and Masks and Tim Kaprinsky’s House, Timaios’ Bedroom and Take it Off and Danny and Let’s Eat.

It took effort to pick up the fork and eat without specific permission, but Ctirad wasn’t going to risk pissing his owner off again in such a short time.

After the first bite, it took effort to not gorge. To remind himself to be a good dinner companion, he attempted questions. “So, what are your plans for tomorrow?”

He thought Timaios looked amused, but was fine with that, as long as he didn’t look offended.

“Well, I’ve got a short boring meeting and a long one that might actually be interesting. Then I have a couple unofficial things to do that might cause some interesting ripples. I think I’ll send you shopping with one of the others here in the morning, save you the boring meeting, and then you can be properly dressed for the afternoon meeting and the unofficial gatherings.”

“I feel like Pretty Woman,” Ctirad mumbles, “Except I know how to not get turned away from a store.”

Timaios laughed. “You can probably skip the wide derby hat, too. I was serious about what I said earlier; I’m going to present you as an enigma, because Tim [] is rich enough to get away with just expecting his handsome plus-one to be allowed in anywhere. I might get lightly affectionate with you in public, if you can stand that. I might spend an hour ignoring you entirely, or ask you to weigh in on matters. If I do that, just be honest, unless there’s something I’ve specifically told you not to say. I’m either actually asking your opinion or trying to shake them-”

“-by getting the trained monkey to talk. I’ve done that dance before.”

Shit, had he said that out loud? Ctirad colored and looked at his plate.

But Timaois was laughing again.

“Very good, very good. Yes. Is all that fine with you?”

“So. I stand there and look pretty, speak when asked a question, and get cuddled when it proves a point?”

“That is, ah.” Timaois coughed. “Yes. More or less, yes.”

“Sir, as long as ‘get cuddled’ isn’t ‘get fucked’ in the middle of a restaurant and you’re not gonna start humiliating me for my opinions, that sounds great.” It sounded, he had to admit, more like his old life than his new life.

“No. I am not the sort of man who will humiliate his employees — or his possessions. I might use your answers to humiliate someone else, but the worst I might say is ‘if he gets it, Bob, why don’t you.’ Is that acceptable?”

Ctirad smiled. He actually felt at home with that idea. “I’m not big, but I look like muscle. I’m used to people — employers — using the fact that people think I’m dumb. Sir.”

That got a real smile back from Timaios. “I may have to start punishing you for calling me sir,” he said, but he seemed to have no heat at all behind it.

Ctirad found he was feeling daring. “Be careful… sir. I might enjoy that.”

“Mmm. Well then. How’s dinner?”

“Delicious.” He looked down at his plate and found it almost empty. “Really good,” he admitted ruefully. His stomach felt stretched, it was so full. “Best I’ve had in a really long time.”

“Good. Danny is well worth the money I pay her. Maybe we can put a little meat back on those bones.”

“Do you…” Damnit.

“No, please, continue.”

Double damnit. That was an order. “Do you have a gym, sir? Because if I am going to be eating-” enough. “-more, I’m going to need to work out to keep my tone up. If that’s what you want me to look like, sir. If it pleases you.” Fuck.

“I have a gym, yes. You are welcome to use it at any point where I am not requiring your services and have not given you other tasks – I’m going to note that sleeping is a required task, Ctirad. And as for your body.” He stood up and walked around the table. Ctirad struggled with the urge to drop to his knees and settled for looking down at the table.

Timaios took his chin and forced his gaze up to his eyes. “It’s a lovely body, and it does belong to me. Why don’t we say this: no tattoos, no piercings, no fake tanning, nothing humans would think of as body modification. But you’re allowed to shape and work your body in a gym as much as you want. Understood?”


“So you don’t mind if I work out?”

“Not at all. You may do as you like in the gym. But for now -” Timaios released Ctirad’s chin. “Perhaps you should finish eating.”


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