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writings-ramblings-and-more · 4 years

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(I accidentally broke the chapter one link, but you can read it under the previous prompt right before this post)

CHAPTER TWO:

“Dionysius? The party god? Aren’t you – aren’t you supposed to be some old fat guy sitting on a chaise while being fed grapes?”

Dion grimaced and sat back down, taking a scone off of the tray. “I will never live that down,” he said with an overdramatic sigh. “It was just a phase. I much prefer the look I wear now, don’t you?”

Before I could answer, he continued. “Try the scone. They are to die for. And don’t forget the clotted cream.” He pushed a saucer towards me containing two large round dollops of what looked like butter.

My brain felt like it wanted to go in seven different directions at once so I decided on the easiest question. “What is clotted cream?”

“Like butter, but better. Trust me.” He said with a wink.

I did not trust him and I didn’t really care for scones, but there wasn’t anything to be gained by wasting food. So I took the scone off the tray and started spreading the cream on it after cutting it in half.

“Party god is also a gross oversimplification,” Dion said, taking back the saucer with the cream and spreading a layer probably twice as thick as mine on his scone. “One of my facets is as a deity of libations – wine chiefly among them. Parties just happen to be better with such indulgences.” He took a bite of the scone and his eyes closed, a look of pure pleasure spreading across his face, motioning to me to try mine.

I sighed but took a grudging bite. The scone was orange ginger with just a light sprinkle of candied orange peel on top. The tart taste would have been almost overpowering except the smooth creaminess of the clotted cream balanced the flavor perfectly. He hadn’t been kidding; the clotted cream was like butter but richer, and with a slight nutty flavor to it. The look on my face must have been telling, because Dion chuckled.

“Told you, didn’t I?”

“It’s… I thought I didn’t like scones but this is… “

“You’ve likely only had scones from a grocery store bakery, yes?” At my nod he shook his head and made a small sound of disgust. “Those so-called pretenders are an affront to humanity. They are a dry biscuit masquerading as a scone and worse yet,” He shuddered as if just imagining the offending pastry chilled him, “they usually coat them in an over-thick layer of glaze in an attempt to compensate for the dryness making them cloying.”

He held up his half-eaten scone and presented it like a woman on a game show presents a new car. “Now THIS, this is how a scone should be.” He leaned in. “Do you want to know the secret to a good scone such as this?”

His face was eager and he was brimming with energy. I couldn’t help myself, I had to know. But, I kept my expression neutral and leaned back. I didn’t want to encourage him too much. “Sure.”

“The key to a fluffy scone is that you freeze the butter, cut it into small pieces, and gently fold it into the dough rather than mixing it in warm.”

“Interesting – but we’re getting off topic.” I insisted and his face fell a little. He had this way of derailing the conversation in the direction he wanted it to go, and that direction didn’t seem to have any of the answers I needed. I usually had an easier time steering which way interactions flowed but he was very slippery. Was it a part of being a deity? Super-powered deflection?

“So you mean to tell me that gods are real? All gods, just the Greek pantheon, or…?” I trailed off in hopes he would fill me in, and thankfully this time he took the bait.

He poured himself another cup of tea and added an ample amount of sugar and cream. “All gods are based on a real being. Some overlap mythologies, such as myself – I got around a lot, you see,” He winked at me and I rolled my eyes in response.

“Most of your religious ‘myths’ are based on reality. Though of course there is always plenty of room for artistic license. You humans do so love to embellish things. I’m always caught between disappointed I hadn’t thought of it and proud when the story is better than the reality.”

I sat back and tried to take this all in. I had always been a staunch believer in the fact that spiritual beings of any kind did not exist. I had seen religion as a comforting shield that people wielded against stark reality. I didn’t fault them for their desire for it, but it wasn’t for me. I preferred to face things head on, free of any fetters between me and the absolute truth of the life I lived and the world I lived in.

Yet here I was, faced with the undeniable fact that everything I thought I had known was wrong and I found myself fighting it. Apparently what I had thought was a lack of belief was actually not that at all. My comforting shield had been the notion that reality was as it appeared to be… and that sheild had been shattered.

Still, as magical as all this seemed there could be a rational explanation. How did the saying go? Magic was just science we didn’t yet understand? I needed to know more. Unfortunately, it seemed that meant having a continued association with Dion.

He was watching me as I thought, and I had to wonder if he was telepathic because of the smile growing on his face as I came to the decision to continue to associate with him.

“We can be friends.” I said.

“Friends with romantic benefits?” He added hopefully.

I pulled my hand over my face and groaned. This was going to be an uphill battle. “No. Just friends.”

“But you look like you would be a fantastic cuddler, and I assure you that I am an expert cuddler myself. Picture this: A cozy fire roars in the fireplace, your favorite binge show plays on the TV above it. We are ensconced in my cashmere blanket, sitting on my overstuffed couch with my signature hot cocoa in hand.”

“It’s the middle of July,” I said dryly.

“Ah but that is what air conditioning is for! I do so love the advances in technology. It makes life so much easier to enjoy.”

I shook my head. We were getting off topic again. “I don’t want to be romantic with you, I hardly know you. Besides which I’m kind of on a break from relationships at the moment.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because the last couple people I dated were a bit…,” I searched for the right word. I didn’t like to call people crazy, but the type of people I seemed to attract were most certainly eccentric,”…intense. So I’ve sworn off dating for now.”

Not to mention the fact that it was difficult enough to find people who piqued my interest AND who were okay with a romantic relationship sans the sexual aspect. My pool of consideration was not large.

Dion shrugged. “Fair enough. I myself took a break from romance once after a particularly enamoured young man attempted to kill me when I informed him that I was about to embark on my journey once more.” He rolled his eyes. “Really, he could have come with me. But I guess he wanted me all to himself and he did not take kindly to my entourage.” Dion sighed and shook his head, “What a waste though, he had the voice of an angel. I could have listened to him sing for hours.”

His entourage? What was he, one of those trashy celebrities on a reality show? I put the thought aside. Questioning him about that would lead nowhere good right now and I had to stay focused.

“Only friends.”

“No cuddling?” He asked sadly.

“No cuddling.” I confirmed.

He lit up, an idea seeming to form in his head and I braced myself for it.

“Ah, but what about a makeover? I know a hair style that would look lovely on you and we could have snacks and watch that show where people do a terrible job at baking!”

I lowered my forehead onto my palm. What was I getting myself into?

When Hell Freezes Over

CHAPTER ONE

A wash of cold swept over me and my cat, who had been peacefully napping with me, suddenly vaulted off my lap, her back claws digging deep into my thighs before she disappeared with a yowl.

“Jesus!” I yelled, sitting up and rubbing my legs.

“Quite the opposite,” Said a deep male voice.

Keep reading

#polished version of the prompt with a chapter two #I may write more if anyone is interested #if not I'll move on to the next thing #ace main character #asexual #panromantic #Dion may be hedonistic but he drinks respect women juice #so no sex would happen in this story nor would he try to pressure her #it would be a lot of him earnestly seeking out a romantic relationship #boy is thirsty for them cuddles

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writings-ramblings-and-more · 4 years

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A wash of cold swept over me and my cat, who had been peacefully napping with me, suddenly vaulted off my lap, her back claws digging deep into my thighs before she disappeared with a yowl.

“Jesus!” I yelled, sitting up and rubbing my legs.

“Quite the opposite,” Said a deep male voice.

My eyes snapped open and I nearly fell out of the couch as the second shock in all of ten seconds hit me like a freight train. A man, a very large man, was standing in my sunroom. He was so tall he had to bend down a little to fit inside the room. There was a deep cold emanating off of him, as if I was being accosted by a refrigerator rather than a person. I sat up slowly, being careful not to make any sudden movements.

“You,” he pointed at me, “will do as that idiot asked you. And you will do so today.”

“I…what?”

“A man asked you on a date yesterday, correct?”

I had, in fact, been asked out the day before by one of the regular clients at the firm I worked at. He had found his way into the pants of a few of the lawyers who worked there – men and women alike. I was not interested for a multitude of reasons, not least of which being that I was the secretary and already had to fight to earn the respect of my co-workers. He had been trying to get me to go on a date with him for months and I had gotten particularly nasty with my refusal yesterday.

I crossed my arms and tried to project a calm confidence. If I had known the psychopath would go as far as to hire someone to threaten me I would have put a restraining order on him, but it was too late for that. I would be best served staying quiet and concentrating on finding a way out of this situation.

At my silence, he continued. “Do not get me wrong, he is a deviant and I applaud your choice in refusing him but right now that choice is causing me… issues.” He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

He looked at me, and I noticed for the first time that his eyes were an unnaturally bright gold. “I believe your words were – when hell freezes over you would date him.”

He bent down towards me, his face inches away from mine. I flinched but managed to keep my expression calm.

“I cannot abide the cold.”

Before I could react he grabbed my arm. There was a nauseating drop in my stomach as my vision blurred and I was suddenly no longer in my sunroom. I was standing on a vast plain; the grass was white with frost and a wind blew that was so sharp and cold that it nearly stole my breath. With a start I realized it was also filled with white statues of people. What – where – how?

The man turned to me, and I was surprised to see his face, which had been implacable before was now alight with emotion as he took it all in.

“Look at this! This place is meant to be a place of peace, not one of frozen stillness!” He waved his hand and the scenery changed again. I stumbled a bit but he steadied me, drawing my attention to a steep cliff where the statue of a man was pushing a huge boulder, standing frozen just at the middle. “It’s not torture if he just sits there. It’s practically a vacation! This is simply unacceptable. I don’t know how the little shit managed to pull this off but I am not amused.”

This was Hell. Or, not quite – from the context given it seemed that this was the underworld of Greek myth which wasn’t quite hell - but close enough to. It had – did that persistent dolt ACTUALLY freeze hell over to get a date with me? I hadn’t even thought hell existed never mind that it could freeze.

In an instant I was back in the sunroom and I was torn between throwing up and finding the sunniest corner or the room and passing out. I grabbed the nearest wall and concentrated on not falling over, slowly steadying my breath.

“Contact him. Tell him you accept his offer.”

My mind worked furiously through the facts of the situation. I put aside the part of my mind that screamed this was all insane and couldn’t possibly be real. Regardless of the fact that this was, in fact, insane, it was still happening and I had to think through this logically.

I had told him that I would date him if hell froze over – and then he did it. A different man stood before me who was some sort of underworld deity, meaning he surely had to be powerful in his own right. If he could not unfreeze his own domain then that meant the man who had asked me out was more powerful. Which meant there were two powerful entities strong-arming me into a date and there was no telling what they could or would do to me if I refused.

Clearly a simple refusal would not suffice at this point. I needed more information to find the right way to make this problem go away.

I pulled out my cellphone, my hands shaking, and sent a text to the number he had inputted into my phone against my will yesterday: Fine, I accept. We can go on ONE date. JUST a date, nothing else.

“I shouldn’t have to go to this much trouble to get rid of a nuisance like him, “I muttered. Over the years I had become an expert on politely, and then less politely refusing the advances of people. I thought I gotten it down to an efficient science by now. Apparently I had met my match.

“Honey, you are preaching to the choir. That boy is a menace.” He settled into the couch and sprawled out in a sunbeam. “You don’t mind if I stay here a while, do you?”

“Well actually -” I protested, but he was already snoring. I was seriously considering pushing him off the couch in a fit of frustration at my current situation when the text was answered: Delightful! Meet me in one hour at The Tea Room ;).

###

As I settled in at my table I was supremely upset at the fact that he had picked the absolute perfect location, the sort of place I might actually be inclined to try on my own. That is, if I had the time or budget to do so. Which I didn’t. Life’s little pleasures tended to get missed out on when the upcoming rent payment was looming.

Our table was set on an outdoor patio that could have been a botanical garden, the scents of sun-warmed flowers filled the air and dappled sunlight filtered through the trellises’ that were laced with ivy. As I sat down I was brought a pot of tea without even ordering it, and damn it if it wasn’t the most delicious tea I’ve ever tasted.

Of course, my peaceful enjoyment of a good cup of tea did not last as he arrived.

Tall and lithe, he sported flowing golden locks and facial features that were somehow both masculine and feminine at the same time. I could see from a logical standpoint why he was able to sleep his way through a crowd, but I did not care for such superficial things. Especially since whenever he opened his mouth I wanted to smack him.

“Delectable, is it not?” He said, indicating the tea as he sat down across from me. “Just like you.”

I frowned, and sat back. “I have satan squatting in my sunroom,” I said. “He interrupted my nap. I’m really not in the mood for playing games so would you just tell me what you want?”

He laughed. “Ah, you mean Hades. He’s just extra grumpy because his dear wife is away. Not to worry, however, my little prank will fade quickly enough and he will be fine. But to answer your question, I just want you. I thought I had made that abundantly clear.”

A tray of treats arrived, and he plucked a deep red macaron from the top and took a bite. I’m sure it was meant to look seductive but the gesture was entirely lost on me.

I squared my shoulders; now was not the time for tact. I would have to be direct as possible. “You can’t have me. Even if I were interested in you, which I’m not, you can’t have me in the way you want. I don’t care for things like that.”

“But romance is one of the most interesting things humanity does. Do you not wish to have it in your life?”

“Romance, sure, I’d like some of that eventually. Sex? Only in theory, not in practice.” At his blank look I rolled my eyes and added, “I’m asexual. Your powers of seduction are useless against me. So would you give it up, please?”

He sat back and considered me. After a moment passed he gave me a shrewd look. “That’s not just a line to get rid of me, is it. Interesting.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then grinned. “I knew you were the one! Ah, this could indeed be the challenge I was looking for.”

I frowned. “It is NOT a challenge. It’s who I am. Nothing you do, or say, will change that.”

“Ah, you misunderstand me. The challenge would not be to bed you. You did say you were interested in romance, yes?”

I sighed and rubbed my temples. “Yes, I would like to find someone to spend my life with someday, though it’s not really at the top of my to do list and you don’t qualify for the spot.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. That is the game; finding out.”

This guy just wasn’t getting it. “I will never have sex with you.” I said flatly.

He nodded in ascent. “Sexual relations are off the table, I can respect that. Sex is just one of many pleasures two people can share, and I am interested in all pleasures equally so I would not feel deprived by the lack of it.” He gave me a small smile. “How is your tea? How does it make you feel?”

The question was so unexpected that it took me off guard and I found myself answering out of habit. “It makes me feel… at ease. It has a gentle flavor, at first you only have the warmth of it on your tongue, and then the flavor slowly opens up to you.”

I took another sip of my tea and he followed suite.

“I would describe it as such as well,” He met my eyes and smiled, his eyes gleaming. “I am glad to be able to share the experience with you.”

He gave a small laugh at my expression, and the sound was so pure and full of joy that he drew the gaze of everyone in the room. In that moment he was beautiful, and I fought the irrational urge to smile with him. He didn’t deserve that.

“Who are you? WHAT are you?” I asked.

His smile widened to a grin. “You can call me Dion. But, I am better known by the name of Dionysius.” He stood and gave me a little bow. ”At your pleasure.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I will never date you.”

“Just to get things straight, never as in ‘when hell freezes over never’ or never as in 'when pigs fly never’?”

“Sure!” You shout frustrated, “When hell freezes over and pigs fly, I’ll date you!”

The next night, you find yourself having dinner with one of the most powerful beings in the world.

#they would never have sex fyi #she is asexual but not aromantic so he would romance her #and share all the other pleasures of this world #when hell freezes over

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writings-ramblings-and-more · 4 years

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I had this outrageously beautiful dream last night that I may have to work into a story.

I dreamt that I was a child again, and I was wandering about and I came to this huge tree, bigger than even a sequoia, bigger and taller than some buildings.

Immediately as I climbed onto the tree I felt at peace, like this was where I belonged. I had a sudden sadness because I knew it was only a matter of time before the adults found me and forced me off. I imagined then that they could only try, because I was small and quick and could climb taller branches than they ever could, and then I would stay as long as I wished, out of their reach.

Some time passed, but no one came to find me. Then, I heard a loud voice inside of my head. It was so loud it filled my mind up and it felt like my head may burst. Some more time passed and soon the talking became quieter and I understood it was the tree answering my question. “As long as you are here with me, they cannot find you. You are invisible to them because I exist in a different layer of reality that they cannot see.” And then the tree apologized for hurting my head, but that it would be alright now. The tree had to reshape my mind, like filing down the sharp edges of a metal pot, so that I could better understand the tree and to better perceive this reality.

I knew that this was a tree I had heard stories of, then. That this tree grew a special fruit, a fruit of light that no one could see. I asked the tree if this was so, and the tree said, “Go see for yourself. Find the ripe fruit and help to pluck it and send it out into the world.”

So I climbed the tall branches, and I did find orbs of light here and there. I would gently nudge them and they would float off into the world, like lanterns at a lantern festival, filling the sky with their light as they floated away. I came to a smaller one but when this one came off it popped in my hands and I was suddenly overcome with a bout of delighted laugher. It was as if for a moment my body was filled with joy before it settled into a more stable glow inside of me and the laughter subsided.

I apologized to the tree, but the tree was not upset “That one was meant for you, do not worry child”. The tree explained to me that people could not normally see the fruit because most people would try to take it unripe, or take one that was not meant for them, and then that fruit would never come to the person who truly needed it. They told me the fruit would travel around the world until it found the right person. Each orb had a different emotion, or epiphany, or inspiration. They would float around, unseen, granting those moments to people, some big, some small, but all meaningful.

That was when I woke up but I felt as if I took that joy into the waking world. I woke up feeling lighter than I had In ages.

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writings-ramblings-and-more · 4 years

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“I am last born, just like you, “my mother had told me one night, “and it is a far better thing.”

I frowned. Everyone knew that the being first born carried a certain kind of magic. Those born first were imbued with the raw potential to do great things, and that potential did not carry over to those born after.

“How could that be better? Last born have no magic.”

My mother gave me a small smile. “Oh, they do. It is not as powerful, it is subtle – and that makes it safer and much wiser.”

When she saw I was still confused she patted the bed next to her and I settled in, sighing contentedly as she finger-combed my hair.

“If you had magic, what would you do if your house was on fire?” She asked me.

“I would call up a big wind and blow it out!” I said, flinging my arms outward and making a big ‘whoosh’ noise.

My mother laughed as she started to braid my hair. “But then you may blow the house down. Or perhaps fan the flames hotter. Only if the wind was just right would it stop the fire.”

I pursed my lips and made a thoughtful sound. “Well then I would make sure it was just right.”

My mother shook her head. “That is not how it works. You can make a great wind only. It may put out the flames. Or it may spread the fire further bringing the entire village to ruin. First born have unlimited potential, yes; for wonderful things, or for terrible things. But they have very little power to choose which, in the end.”

I nodded slowly. “But then, what kind of magic do we have?”

She tied off my braid and turned me towards her. “It is a quiet magic. One of waiting in the stillness with an open heart. If ever there is trouble, listen closely inside yourself. You will feel it here,” she placed a hand on my heart, “and know it here,” she placed her other hand on my head. “When they both agree only then will you know it is right.”

She had hugged me then, and sent me on my way, but her words stuck with me years later when she fell deathly ill.

My brother, the first born of our family, was the first to go out to try and find a cure. He had heard tale of a dragon’s hoard, and within that hoard was a magical stone with curative properties.

I told him to wait, that we could find a different solution. My heart yearned to go with him, but I knew it was not the answer. He had a prosperous farm, a wife, and family of his own but still he went. He had returned with the stone, but to no avail. It did not heal our mother, nor could it heal the mortal wounds my brother sustained in his battle with the dragon.

As it turned out the stone did have curative powers, but only of the heart and mind, not of the body. It shone with many colors, and when you held it music seemed to fill you up until every worry left your body. At the very least it brought comfort to my mother as she lay in her sick bed grieving the loss of her child. I could not even look at it knowing what it cost us.

Though I tried to stop them, my other siblings left. Some also died, some came back empty handed. Still, I waited. I trusted my mother’s words. I would know when the answer could be found as long as I listened.

And sure enough, one midsummer’s night that answer came.

It was the lightest whisper at the corner of my mind that woke me; a gentle pulling. I was reluctant to leave my spot where I had been watching over my mother, but she was fast asleep and I knew I could not ignore this.

The night air was heavy with the scent of damp leaves and flowers, and the tall grass left wet trails on my clothing as I passed through them. When I arrived at the nearby lake, the placid water was as a mirror for the moon and stars above and I knew this was where I had to be.

I sat by the waters, but knew not what to do. The gentle pulling sensation had stopped, but I did not know why I was here or for what. Perhaps a first born would know immediately, but that was not my magic. So I waited.

Time passed, and I began singing softly to keep myself awake and focused. Singing felt right, seemed to be the thing to do. A peace settled over me as I sang, as if all my turbulent emotions were pouring out of me as I did.

“I have heard your call.”

I jumped and scrambled up. A man, tall but graceful stood at the center of the pool where the moonlight hit the water. His eyes were deep blue, and his hair was a silvery waterfall down his back. He looked too beautiful to be human, and the way he floated atop the water as if he were no heavier than a feather confirmed it. Fae.

I took a cautious step back. My mother had warned me of the Fae, but despite the clear danger that pulling inside of me held me in place. It was as my mother has said; every part of me knew that this was it, so I straightened and nodded.

“Your song is that of loss. Something important to you will soon be taken away.” He floated closer to me until he was a hairsbreadth away, and his mouth curved into a small smile. “But you need not lose it. Perhaps we can strike a bargain.”

I swallowed but stood my ground and forced myself to look into his eyes; cold and calculating. I would have to be careful. “Perhaps we can. But have you the power to grant my wish?”

“Speak it.”

I knew I would have to be careful how I worded it. So, I took several moments before replying. “I wish for my mother’s health to be restored such that she will continue to live a long and healthy life.”

He leaned back, a considering look on his face. “I could do this. But, it is no small thing you ask of me.”

I crossed my arms, knowing where this was going. “I won’t have anyone else die for the sake of my mother.”

He shrugged. “They need not die. Sacrifice is not always about life or death,” He looked to the side as if thinking, then back towards me. “You could, for example, give me your first born child.” He said in a casual tone that did not hide the flash of longing that passed through his eyes.

First born children had power, this was known. That the Fae often made such deals was also known. What they did with those children, why they wanted them – that was unknown. From the set look in his eye, I could tell that this was the only bargain he would make despite his cavalier tone.

I sat back on my heels and closed my eyes, making a humming noise as I thought, feeling out for what the whispers told me was right. I hadn’t seriously considered the idea of having children. I was past the usual age of marriage, after all. I was not against it, but I had felt I needed to wait. Was this the reason? The tugging at the back of my mind was pulling me towards him, so it seemed I was meant to make this deal.

When I opened my eyes he was looking at me curiously, as if I had done something very odd.

I looked him steadily in the eye. “My firstborn for my mother’s health and long life.”

He shook his head. “That is two things. Your firstborn for your mother’s recovery,” he countered.

I pursed my lips. I knew it would not be so easy. He would take my first born and make my mother well, but my mother may die the very next summer. It was not good enough. My gaze was drawn down to the water’s surface, and I as I looked at the reflection of the two of us standing together it was then that it came to me.

“My firstborn for my mother’s health. For her continued health, I will be at your service should you ever need me.”

He cocked his head to one side, and several tense moments passed before he finally gave a small nod. “I find that acceptable.” He reached out his hand to me and as our hands touched I felt something heavy settle over me and I knew that this agreement was binding and unbreakable. I really hoped that my intuitions had not led me wrong.

“I will call you when I have something that needs doing. And do not think that you can fool me, mortal. I will know when your belly swells with child,” He warned, and turned to leave.

“I should hope so, since you’ll be the one who will have put that child there in the first place,” I said, eyebrows raised.

He stopped, and turned towards me, his eyes wide with the first true emotion I had seen in them yet, “What?”

“We bargained for my firstborn, but to be honest no man in the village has shown interest in me, and I find them to be a tedious lot besides. So, If you wish to have my firstborn it will have to be you that does the job,” I said, crossing my arms. I tried to hide my amusement at his surprise, but I could not stop the small smile that was forming on my lips.

He stepped back closer to me again, tipping my head up to look me in the eye, “May I have your name, mortal?”

“You may call me Wren. What may I call you?”

He smiled then, and it transformed his face. It was as bright as the moon above and she could see now that he was close that stars sparkled in the depths of his dark eyes. “You may call me Azure. Go home now. You will find your mother fully healed, as per our bargain. I will give you some time with her, as I am a merciful benevolent being. But you will know when I call you, and you best come when I do.”

And with that he was gone as quickly as a wave returning to shore.

Human: Deal.

Fey: Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade…

Human: Thank you so much. She means everything to me.

Fey: I know, I know. Let’s hope the price wasn’t too much for you after all… Only time will tell.

Human: So, when do we start?

Fey: …If I may ask you to elaborate?

Human: You said you wanted my firstborn.

Fey: Yes? And you agreed?

Human: Yeah, so, when do we start?

Fey:

Fey, blushing: Ah.

#writing prompt #this gave me ideas so i went with it

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writings-ramblings-and-more · 5 years

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To Hell in a Handbasket

“Hi, my name is Lucifer. I’m here as a part of my 100 million step plan, and this is the next step – making amends.”

I stared at the guy on my step and gave him a quick once over. No more than 5'7"; short for a guy. On the younger side. He wore ripped blue jeans, some fancy brand-name sneakers, and a dark red hoodie that nearly, but not quite, hid tousled dark hair and soulful, honey colored eyes.

“Lucifer – as in the devil?”I asked, leaning against the door frame. “As in Satan? Beezlebub?” I added dryly. The name didn't quite fit, but then, in my experience when people chose a name for themselves they didn't choose one that fit who they were, but rather who they wanted to be. Clearly Lucifer wasn't a given name, so this guy had some strange aspirations.

He winced.“I really prefer Lucifer nowadays — light bringer sounds so much nicer, don’t you think? Way better than Beelzebub by a long shot.”

I stared at him, unsure how to respond as I tried to think of the best word choices to get him to go away and not come back. Normally I would just close the door in his face, hell, normally I wouldn't have even answered the door but he had been knocking on it for nearly a half hour and I was trying to get some homework done, so in my desperation for some quiet I had answered the door. That had, apparently, been a mistake.

He waved a hand and gave me a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, be that way then — you can keep calling me Bee if you insist, which I know you will. Anyway! You’ve got me off track and I had this all planned out… well, no worries, I can just pick up where I left off — where did I leave off — ah yes, amends! Ahem,” Bee straightened. “As you may know I’ve got a rather nasty soul-stealing habit — well, I wouldn’t quite call it stealing since it's almost always a fair exchange — but I DO admit it's an unhealthy habit that I’ve been trying to break for a few centuries now.” He raised his eyebrows as if expecting a certain response, but when I did nothing he frowned. "No laugh? No kicking me in the face? No ‘I’m so glad you’re finally coming to your senses you idgit’? I expected more from you, it's been ages after all."

He was talking to me as if he knew me. This guy was clearly insane. I was hoping he was just a persistent salesman that I could move along with a few harsh words, but it looked like I would have to call the cops. I moved to close the door but he sidestepped me and walked inside, pulled his hood down, shook out his mass of curly hair and fixed me with his cool, golden eyes. I took a step back. Now that his face was in full view every instinct inside of me was screaming that something was really off about this guy. He practically exuded an aura of… otherness. This wasn’t the first time a person had given me this feeling, though it didn’t happen often. The most notable example had been when I had first met my friend’s now ex-girlfriend who had turned out to be completely nuts, so I generally trusted my instincts. I should have been paying more attention when I had opened the door in the first place. I cursed inwardly as I tried to think of a way out.

“Guess I better drop the clever wordplay and be direct, then. I’m here to return your soul.” He gave me a grin that must have been meant to be charming, but had the opposite effect on me. “You’re welcome.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, caught between confusion and slowly creeping dread.

“Your soul, the one I took?” Bee peered at me for a moment and then smacked his fist into his open palm. “Shoot! You’re not Esther Matthews are you? I thought you were just pretending not to remember me, that you were playing along!” He groaned. “I should have realized; she never did like to play along.” “No,” I said slowly, “that’s my great grandmother’s name, but she's dead.” A chill settled on me. Not just a crazy guy — a crazy guy who knew my family name. A crazy guy who had gotten into my house. This just kept getting worse.

“Welp, this is awkward,” Bee said, scuffing his foot on the floor. “To be fair you look JUST like her. I guess she would be much older though — I always forget about you humans and your aging business.”

Awkward wasn’t quite the word I’d choose. I started inching towards the door to make a getaway. I would fight if I had to, but escape was always the better option, especially when dealing with a potentially insane adversary.

Bee gave me a sheepish look. “See, I may have had a bit of an ulterior motive,” he said. “Esther and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms when I last saw her, but I needed a favor and I thought — hey, if I return her soul she might help me.” He looked very sulky now, as if his world had come crashing down around him. “I had no idea she’d already passed on. Human bodies are so fragile and short-lived. It takes all the fun out of everything."

I was almost to the door when his face lit up and he took me by the shoulders, easily lifting me off the ground despite his slight frame. More adrenaline rushed through me uselessly — fight or flight was impossible with someone that fast — no amount of adrenaline would give me the boost I needed to help against this guy. I didn’t even have a moment to respond — what WAS he?

“Wait, I just had a marvelous idea! You're her direct descendant sooo - ” He set me down and plucked a hair from my head.

“Ow!” I said, stumbling away from him as he shook out the hair with a flourish. To my amazement, the hair began to glow, then expand. A full head of silver white hair grew out from it in a flash, light traveling down from there to form a head, then shoulders, a torso, and finally legs. When the light cleared an elderly woman’s naked body hung in the air suspended. I fell back onto my butt, my legs suddenly water. I prided myself on staying cool in tense situations, but this was far beyond my scope. So far beyond it my thoughts felt like they were still skipping a few beats behind trying to keep up, my mind reluctant to leave the moments before the world got turned upside down.

“Oh shoot! Sorry!” Bee said, and with a wave of his hand clothing appeared on the body. “I always forget you humans have such odd modesty standards.” He said, as if that were the only thing about this exchange that I would find upsetting. He leaned forward and laid a kiss on the woman’s forehead. A bright magenta glow passed from his lips to the woman.

“Time to wake up Esther!” Bee said cheerfully.

I scooted back a bit. Wait…was that supposed to be my dead great-grandmother? I looked from Bee, who looked very pleased with himself, then back to the the woman, who was slowly floating downward. Just as her feet touched ground she opened her eyes, and it was then that I recognized her. Great-grandma had died when I was young, but I still had hazy memories of sitting on her lap while she read to me. Her eyes were a striking almost purple hue — hard to forget, even at four years old.

Bee grinned at her and opened his arms for a hug. “Hiiii – oooOW! OW! STOPPIT!” Bee cried, trying to shield himself as Esther started beating him over the head. “Hey – OW – STOP – OWW - aren’t you happy to see me?!”

“You idiot! What were you thinking?!” Esther yelled.

“I gave you your soul back, you should be grateful you big meanie!” Bee pouted. “And your life, I might add.”

Esther examined her wrinkled hand. “Oh, and a great job you did. You couldn’t have given me a young body?”

“It's the first time I've done that in centuries, give me a break!” Bee said shrilly.”I can’t help that my mental image of you was older, it was her fault!” He pointed at me, accusing.

“I don’t want to give you a break I want to break your – never mind that!” Esther rubbed the bridge of her nose and let out a deep sigh. She looked at me. “Is that you Amelia? You were so young the last time I saw you but…Oh, dear, are you okay?” She rushed to my side and helped me up off the floor.

“F-fine,” I lied. I knew great-grandma Esther had always been eccentric — a bit superstitious, but making deals with who was apparently the actual devil? Someone who could apparently bring people back to life?

Esther clucked disapprovingly and stood up, pointing a finger at Bee, who flinched. “You scared the living daylights out of my great-granddaughter.”

“I thought she was you,” He said meekly.

Esther rolled her eyes. “We’re decades apart in age!”

Bee flailed his hands. “I don’t know! You humans all look alike to me!”

“You celestials, honestly.” My grandmother sighed. “Fine. I admit. Getting my soul back and escaping the eternal sleep is nice – but I know you. Nothing comes free. What is it you want, Bee?”

“I don’t go by that name any more. Beelzebub is too stuffy. It’s Lucifer now,” He said petulantly.

“What do you want, Bee?” Esther repeated.

“Fine, fine, I wasn’t really keen on Lucifer anyway, too fancy.”

Ester crossed her arms, silently regarding him.

Bee rubbed the back of his head. “I need a favor.”

“For what?”

“Welllll…,” Bee said. “I maybe… might have… just possibly….”

“Bee, brevity is the soul of wit.”

“God got out of his cage,” He said in a rush.

Esther just gaped at him for a moment, then threw her hands up into the air and started pacing in a circle. “You idiot! What were you thinking?” She stopped pacing and glared at him. “Wait, let me answer that — you weren’t thinking, like usual.”

“I missed him!” Bee said, “and he was being so nice, and, well you know how charming he can be…”

“I don’t actually, since I haven’t met him personally,” Esther pointed out, continuing to pace. “But it’s no excuse!”

“Wait, GOD got out of his cage — what? Aren’t you supposed to be the bad guy and God the good guy?” I asked, my brain feeling like it had been put through a blender trying to take all this in.

“Well, we had to put him in there! He kept smiting people and destroying cities just because some people were doing stuff he didn’t like! I’m – I’m NOT the bad guy,” Bee cried, slumping down the wall and hugging his knees. “The taking souls thing is just a bad habit, and it’s not like I eat them or anything I just like to collect them. They’re pretty,” He said, having the sulky look of a child who had been admonished for stealing flowers from the neighbors garden rather than something as serious as a human soul.

They were all silent for a bit until Bee let out a long, loud sigh, and when I looked back at him his face had become serious for the first time. “Look, Esther, you’re the smartest human I ever met, if anyone can help me it’s you,” He said, burying his head back in his folded arms over his knees.

“I’m too fucking old for this,” Esther pointed at me. “Looks like you get to learn a little bit more about your lineage because I’m gonna need the help, your mother’s wishes be damned.”

“Lineage?”

“As a guardian, to keep celestial beings like this one,” Esther stabbed a thumb at Bee, “in line. I got assigned to this guy back in the day and boy did I have my work cut out for me. Looks like they never gave you a new one?”

“They did,” Bee said, raising his head a bit. “He’s just… taking a vacation.”

Esther ran her hand over her face and gave him a knowing look. “What did you do him?”

Bee’s eyes darted up to her, then back to the ground.

“Bee,” Esther said sternly.

“Nothingggg,” He whined. “Okay, maybe I made a deal with him but to be fair his soul was a really pretty sapphire! Almost no souls are that color so you can’t blame me!”

“I see you haven’t changed at all,” Esther said with a sigh. “Come on, lets get some tea started and we can talk this over properly.”

“Why did you give him your soul in the first place, anyway?” I asked as Esther led me to the living room, Bee following with a dark cloud hanging over him. Literally. It had little lightening bolts and everything.

“I’d rather not talk about it. It wasn’t my proudest moment,” Esther said, her tone brooking no argument. “There are more important things to discuss, and from the looks of it, we haven’t much time.”

Esther patted me on the arm comfortingly, but my limbs had gone numb from the shock so I didn’t much feel it. “Come on, girl. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

#would anyone be interested in reading more?#thinking of maybe posting this chapter by chapter #trying something different #edit 2/18

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