Drabbles and Flash Fiction
Ownership
September 2003
-----------------
Deimos tightened his grip on the wooden bed post. He knew tensing up
was only going to make it worse, but nakedness had never been
comfortable
for him and he could just feel Strife's gaze sliding over him.
"Ready?" Strife's voice was low, deeper than normal and Deimos
shivered
at the sound before nodding.
He'd said he wanted to belong to Strife and although he'd meant it
in
another way, he wasn't going to back out now. Even if the heat of the
approaching
branding iron made him wince in anticipation of the pain.
Strife was such a literal bastard.
Mirror Image
October 2003
---------------
"Cupid loved his mirror," Aphrodite mused, turning the polished
glass
over in her hands. "He spent hours staring at himself."
Ares rolled his eyes, wondering why he bothered with these "family
times"
she insisted on. Couldn't he get to know his sons when they were older?
Like maybe when they were big enough to do their jobs? "If it's such a
great baby toy, then give it to them already," he said, utterly bored.
"Don't be dense, bro." Aphrodite looked into the crib, smiling
softly.
"Deimos and Phobos don't need it; they just watch each other. It's the
perfect reflection."
Silence
October 2003
---------------
Tongue, hot and wet and hot and oh fuck, he'd already thought that
but
it was so hot. Licking every inch of his mouth, stroking along
his
tongue, sliding over his teeth. Strife thought maybe he was melting
where
he stood, turning into a little puddle of pure sensation as that tongue
drew every bit of want, need and lust from him. He was hard in seconds,
and then teeth bit into his lip and he whimpered, his cock aching at
the
sweet pain. He tasted his own blood, that tongue tasted it too, laving
the small wound -- right before teeth closed on his lip again and
inflicted
another. The pressure sharp and sudden as the pain, and Strife was
coming,
in that instant.
Hands released him then and Strife dropped to the ground, landing
hard
on his ass, his body still shaking with shocks of pleasure. He was
gasping
for air, too dazed to form any coherent thoughts. He wanted to give
thanks,
to beg for more, but instead, when he looked up at all that polished
leather
and sharp weaponry, he just grinned like an idiot. "Shiny," he said in
a vacant tone that reflected his mind all too well. Then his eyes
crossed
and he slumped back into the dirt.
Xena turned to look at Hercules and Iolaus who stood there in
varying
states of shock and disbelief, their mouths hanging open. "See," she
shrugged,
"I told you it was easy to shut him up."
Family Relations
October 2003
-----------------
"C'mere, Strife." Deimos beckoned him with a leer that was strangely
compelling for all its vulgarity.
"Come, cousin." Phobos held out a hand, palm up.
Crossing his arms, Strife looked down at the two of them, sprawled
naked
and shameless before him. "Climb into bed with the Gods of Pain and
Fear;
hmm...lemme think about that one. Um, that would be a 'no.'"
"You so easily discount the edge we add to pleasure." Phobos smiled
slightly, his hand dropping down to Deimos' thigh.
Strife shrugged. "Yeah, well, Cupid's more my speed." And that was a
lie. Discord was more his speed; he'd always kind of admired Oedipus.
Beach Bums
October 2003
---------------
Watching the last traces of sunlight fade away, eventide turning to
night, Strife rolled over with a drawn out sigh.
"It's not working," he commented sullenly, glancing down at his near
white, naked form. "A whole day and I didn't even burn. You'd think a
god
could get a tan."
Discord smirked. A single lock of hair fell from her bare shoulder,
black curls resting against the pale cream of her breast. "Gods don't
sunbathe
for a tan."
"Then what's the point?" Strife asked impatiently.
Stretching languidly, Discord rested her hand on his smooth thigh.
"It's
for the view, silly."
Watching
December 2003
-----------------
He wasn't crazy. Joxer had the proof standing right in front of him.
For weeks now he'd seen this god, popping in and out of nowhere to
stare
at Gabrielle, and he'd only been visible to Joxer. He just knew
they were rivals for her affections, and he wouldn't stand for it.
"You're not going near Gabrielle!" he insisted, drawing his sword.
"So
you can quit watching her!"
Strife just smirked, tongue flicking out over his lower lip. "Okay."
He pushed aside the bent blade as he leaned in close, pale eyes
heavy-lidded.
"Wasn't her I was watching anyway, Joxer."
By the Book
December 2003
-----------------
Watching Autolycus turn the scroll sideways for the fifth time,
Iolaus
finally gave into curiosity.
"What is it?"
"Something I picked up from an Eastern merchant. Nice drawings,
can't
read it though." Autolycus looked over at him speculatively. "Say,
you've
been to the East, why don't you give it a try?" He held out the scroll.
Put on guard by that look, Iolaus just glanced at it. He didn't have
to read anything; he knew the drawings by sight.
"It's the Kama Sutra," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah. Now, how about you and me do that...translation, Blondie?"
Autolycus
leered.
Chance Meetings
December 2003
------------------
"Tell me this is a nightmare, Xena," Gabrielle whispered, unable to
take her eyes off the sight. "One was bad enough, but three?
It's
like some sort of unholy trinity!"
Normally Xena would have been amused by her friend’s
dramatics,
maybe
even played along a bit, but in this case...she wasn't so sure she
disagreed
with Gabrielle's assessment of the situation.
"Let's just...endure," she said in a low voice, hoping her clenched
teeth weren’t too visible. “At least until we find
somewhere to hide
the
bodies.”
They both plastered on fake smiles as Jace, Jett, and Joxer walked
towards
them.
By Any Other Name
December 2003
---------------------
Engulfed in flames, the soldier went screaming over the cliff. The
army's
horses went stampeding after him, dragging the fully loaded supply
wagons
with them.
"Never saw that one before." Deimos giggled, rubbing his hands
together
as he looked for their next target.
"I'm inspired today," Strife said, shrugging.
"Them, over there!" Deimos pointed towards a group of stunned
looking
soldiers.
Strife took aim. zap
Deimos began cackling even louder, jumping up and down. "You
should've
been called 'Jinx,' cuz!"
Strife just smirked.
A twenty foot wall of water came crashing down on the soldiers,
sweeping
them off the cliff.
Friendship
December 2003
-----------------
"Xena, you -- you’ve been the best friend I could ever have
hoped
for."
Gabrielle gasped out the words, her voice trembling with barely
suppressed
agony. "When I'm gone, I want you to have my staff and my quill." She
drew
in a shuddering breath, wiping tears from her eyes. "Give my scrolls to
a library so everyone can read about how you've helped change people's
lives for the better."
"Uh-huh." Her back to the wind, Xena continued sharpening her sword.
"And by the gods, please burn my body on dry land!" Leaning
back
over the ship’s railing, Gabrielle heaved.
Solutions
November 2004
-----------------
Joxer never stopped talking. Every time Ares had seen him, that mouth
had been rambling non-stop. Ridiculous stories, absurd statements,
laughable claims to bravery, all just meaningless, annoying babble. Ares didn't
understand how Xena had put up with him this long without making him a
head shorter. Unless she'd found the same solution Ares had, the same
unexpected benefit of keeping Joxer alive.
"Yeah, just like that," Ares gasped out, head falling back against his
throne.
Joxer made a happy sounding noise, one that Ares felt in a shiver all
through his body as that overactive mouth slid completely down, right
to the base.
And finally Joxer was silent.
It wasn’t the first time Strife had been back to the Academy
since the
whole Nysus thing. He came more often than Hercules ever knew, or Ares
and Discord, for that matter. Not to cause problems or spy or anything
official at all. He hid, in the shadows, behind wagons, around corners,
never where Hercules could catch sight of him. He wasn’t there to
be
seen; he just needed to watch. Iolaus, bright with laughter, playing,
studying, practicing, joking -- always so full of life. So close to
being the only friend Strife had ever had.
It hurt. But Strife watched.
Love
July 2007
----------
Deimos grew up around love. Obsessive love, true love, jealous love,
unrequited love -- living with Aphrodite, Cupid, and the rest of them,
Deimos saw every kind of love in existence. All the years he was
trapped there, it saturated the air, weighed down every breath with
sap, hearts and flowers and gushing poetry and Deimos was beyond sick
of it by the time Ares rescued him, brought Deimos into his service.
Deimos thought he’d be happy if he never touched love again.
Until the first time Strife smirked at him, and Deimos knew what it was
to fall in love.
Temper, Temper
July 2007
----------
Discord’s fireball splintered the support pillars. Strife’s
damaged the
side wall and the foundation. Deimos’ energy bubble slammed into
the
back of the temple, embedding shards of the throne into the back wall,
cracking it from floor to ceiling. None of them noticed the damage,
though, too busy attacking each other with their power and with hands
and fists, screaming insults and accusations as the roof above them
began to wobble ominously.
Standing near the temple doors, Ares dropped his head into his hand and
wondered, not for the first time, why it was so hard to find good help.
The following were written for the "100 Word
Challenge: Bright and Early" on strife_lust.
This Happiest of Days
August 2007
-----------------------
The sky had brightened, turning a steadily lighter blue as the stars
faded from sight. It was nearing full daylight now, and the horizon was
radiant with the coming sun. Daybreak was minutes away.
“That’s good enough,” Beraeus said without looking
away from the
window. “Have the guards fetch Ramina to the courtyard.”
The servant who’d been busily brushing imaginary dust off
Beraeus’
robes, quickly bowed and hurried from the royal chambers.
Sparing a few more moments to watch as the sun began to creep over the
horizon, Beraeus finally turned away with a tight smile. “Time to
get
married.”
The Morning After
August 2007
-------------------
Iolaus had always loved early mornings. The first breath of a new day,
anything could happen, the possibilities were wide open and
opportunities endless. He loved waking up with the sun in his face,
warm and welcoming -- except after a night of too much ale, segueing
into very bad judgment and ending with waking up to extreme regrets.
Actually, looking at the naked figure in bed beside him,
“extreme”
didn’t quite cover it this time.
“Morning, darling!” Strife said with bright sarcasm,
smirking at
Iolaus’ horrified look.
Iolaus dropped an arm over his face, groaning. He was never drinking
again.
Rise and Shine
August 2007
---------------
“Everyone up!” The obnoxiously cheerful voice was
accompanied by the
shutters being thrown wide, letting the first rays of the morning sun
stream into the dorm room.
To Jason, it was like having daggers driven into his eyes.
“Breakfast’s served; let’s move!” Nysus clapped
his hands together,
giving them all a sickeningly bright smile before walking out of the
room, his gait...bouncy.
“Oh, gods,” Iolaus groaned from the top bunk across from
Jason.
Hercules made some sort of strangled, pathetic sound from the one below.
“I swear,” Jason said groggily, shoving off his covers,
“morning people
are not human.”
The following was written for the "100 Word
Challenge: Bitchslap" on strife_lust.
Consequences
August 2007
---------------
“Get off!” Discord shoved Strife away for the thousandth
time.
He fell back, flailing, but lunged at her again, wide eyed and --
“Ugh!
Drool!” She slapped him, the back of her hand cracking across his
face
-- not that it did anything to wipe away his mindlessly sappy smile.
Then he was on her again and she slapped him again and again as he
grabbed at her arms, thighs, breasts, ass, hair -- “Would you stop growing extra hands?”
She
finally kicked him off.
“You just had to piss
off
Aphrodite, didn’t you?” she snarled, aiming a bolt of power
at him.
The following were written for the "100 Word
Challenge: Stars" on strife_lust.
Breathless
August 2007
-----------
Not enough air. Never mind that he didn’t actually need to
breathe,
Strife couldn’t draw in a breath. His non-existent heart was set
on
pounding its way out of his chest, the ichor in his veins pulsing fast
enough to make a dull roar in his ears; he didn’t sweat, but it
still
coated every inch of his naked body. The night sky above him was a blur
of black and sparkly white.
Deimos pulled off his cock with a wet popping
sound and Strife moaned helplessly, shivering.
“So,” Deimos said, licking his lips, “still think
star gazing is
boring?”
Plans
August 2007
------
“To be a good king,” Jason said, the same answer
he’d given since
he was crowned.
“To go out there.” Hercules waved a hand towards the world
outside the
Academy walls. “Help people.”
“To date Kora,” Iolaus said with a grin, making them all
laugh.
Then they looked at Nysus, who was staring up at the night sky
thoughtfully. “What do I want out of life?” he asked
slowly. “I want my
likeness hung up among the constellations.”
“You have to be a pretty big hero for that,” Iolaus pointed
out.
“Hmm, true.” Nysus smiled. “Or a really bad
boy.”
Memories
August 2007
-----------
“I’m
Lilith?” Gods, her
head hurt so much! “And
I’m
your...wife?” She looked at the pale, black clad man dubiously.
She
didn’t feel like
someone’s
wife.
“Mmm-hmm.” He oozed closer to her, blue eyes wide and
glittering, metal
rings clinking.
“And them?” She looked at the three boys in the distance,
running
towards them, screaming what was apparently her name.
“Your family.” The man sighed, deep and sad. “They
don’t approve. Our
love is star-crossed and tragic. Now come on, dear, time to go
home.”
He held out his leather gloved hand.
After a moment’s indecision, Lilith took it.
The following was written for
the "100
Word
Challenge: Hearts and Flowers" on strife_lust.
Marking the Occasion
August 2007
-----------------------
“A first anniversary is soooo important!” Aphrodite had
told him. “You
have to give the perfect gift, something that reflects what he means to
you, how totally bitchin’ the last year has been. Like a ton
flowers,
or a really gushing poem.”
Right. Strife snorted at the memory. Like Deimos would ever go for that
crap. But, he thought as he tore open the ribcage of the still
screaming mortal, at least Aphrodite’s “advice” gave
him a list of what
not to do. A fresh, steaming,
bloody heart, on the other hand.... Strife grinned as he ripped the
organ free. Yeah, Deimos would love
this.
The following was written for
the "100
Word
Challenge: Dog Days" on strife_lust.
‘Tis the Season
September 2007
----------------
Weather mattered little to Strife. Cold or hot, deluge or blizzard, it
had no effect on him -- a perk of being a god. But he did have a
favorite season. The long days of summer; no cold, few, if any days of
rain, no mud or rations spoiled by damp to slow down an army. Heat took
out some soldiers, true, but he saw it as culling the weak, and the
army was stronger for it.
As the Spartans marched past, spears and shields gleaming, Strife
laughed in delight at the slaughter to come. Tartarus, did he ever love
summer.
The following was written for
the "100
Word
Challenge: Orange" on strife_lust.
The Fine Print
October 2007
---------------
“So...that’s it?” Autolycus raised a skeptical
eyebrow, swiping an
orange from the offering bowl. “Just slip into Ares’
favorite temple,
liberate his favorite broadsword and stash it in Discord’s
shrine?”
“Yep.” Strife waved a hand negligently.
“And when I’m done, I see you for my reward -- which, by
the way, we
haven’t discussed yet; I don’t work cheap, you know.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Autolycus, you’ll get everything
you deserve.” Strife
smiled. Those were some white, white teeth.
Autolycus stared at him for a moment. “Right.”
He was long overdue for a vacation. Britannia was nice this time of
year.
The following was written for
the "100
Word
Challenge: Blade" on strife_lust.
Treasure Hunt
October 2007
---------------
“You’ll never find them all.”
Strife’s voice was a sing-song taunt; Deimos just grinned, his
fingers
dancing over Strife’s leathers, tapping whenever he came across
the
bulge of a hidden blade. Strife watched him, a faint smile teasing his
lips. Deimos knew he was missing some -- he didn’t care; Strife
was
sprawled out, inviting him to touch.
His fingers moved lower, down Strife’s stomach, then, lower
still.
Strife gasped softly, pupils blowing wide. “That’s not a
knife.”
“No,” Deimos agreed, leaning in close, his touch firming.
“But it feels
like a weapon to me. So...stab me with it.”
The following was written for
the "100
Word
Challenge: Blood" on strife_lust.
Q&A
October 2007
-------
There was no sweeter sight, Strife thought, than fresh blood dripping
down a well made blade.
“Please! I’ve told you everything I know! Everything!”
Tearing his eyes away from his lovingly held dagger, Strife looked down
at the Persian soldier, bleeding and broken at his feet. Tendons cut so
he couldn’t run, eyelids sliced away so he had no choice but to
see the
bloody art Strife was working on his body.
“I know,” Strife said, smiling.
“Then kill me, please!”
“Oh, now why would I do that?” His smile widened to a
toothy grin. “I’m
having so much fun.”
The following was written for
the "100
Word
Challenge: Candy" on strife_lust.
Solutions
October 2007
---------
“They’re going to replace us!” Discord hissed near
his ear. “Ares has
twin brats and decides to raise them himself. You know what that means -- but
you’re
making nice with them?”
Strife just smiled, dangling the red lollipop over the cradle, watching
as two sets of tiny hands grabbed for it.
“We’ll be tossed aside when these two things are old enough
to follow
orders, and you’re giving them candy!”
Discord gave him a disgusted look.
“It’s a special flavor.” Strife smiled wider as one
of the twins
latched onto the sucker, cooing hungrily. “I laced it with
Hind’s
Blood.”
The following was written for
the "100
Word
Challenge: Spell" on strife_lust.
This Magic Moment
October 2007
---------------------
Joxer finally came up for air, breathing hard. “Um...okay, wow.
This is
so sudden and maybe we should talk or--or--”
“Shut up and get back down here, Stud,” Discord purred, and
hands
digging into his bare shoulders, yanked.
Joxer went down with a yelp that quickly turned to a groan, echoed by
Discord’s pleased murmur.
Across the clearing, Strife watched with raised eyebrows. “Okay,
I
give. How’d you do it?”
“Aphrodite’s my Mom,” Deimos said, preening at the
admiration in
Strife’s tone.
“Yeah, and?”
“And I know where she keeps her spell scrolls hidden.”
“Wicked.”
“Isn’t it though?”
The following was written for...heck
if I remember. It was written back in October '07, that much I do know.
That, and I apparently had a thing for Deimos. I've edited and tweaked
it. Enjoy.
Suffer the Little Children
October 2010
---------------------
“I want another toy,” Deimos said, leaning back against the
temple wall.
“No.” Ares didn’t look up from the map he was
studying.
“It’s just a toy,” Deimos persisted crossing his arms
stubbornly. “It’s not like I’m asking for my own army
or something.”
“I said no.”
“Oh, come on, dad. Just a little one? They come in different
sizes and it’d be fun to play with something smaller.”
“What part of ‘no’ are you not getting?” This
time Ares did look up, his tone carrying the same warning as the glare
he leveled at Deimos.
“The part where you’re saying no,” Deimos replied,
glaring right back.
“Deimos--”
“I’m bored! I
just want a little something to play with for a while!” he
insisted.
“Enough!” Ares
slammed a hand down on the table as he stood. “I already told you
no, and until you learn to take care of your toys, you’re just
gonna have to live with that answer. Are we clear?”
“It’s not fair!”
Deimos stamped his foot angrily. “Discord and Strife have dozens of toys! Why can’t I
have another?”
Ares moved too fast for Deimos to get away, but he tried. That pissed
off look on Ares’ face meant he’d gone too far and Deimos
tried to vanish from the temple, but then Ares had hold of his vest and
was shaking him and his concentration scattered, leaving him hanging
there in Ares’ grasp.
“Now listen up, you idiot!” Ares said, pulling Deimos up
off his feet so they were face to face. “You broke the last six
toys I gave you in less than an hour! I’m not wasting any more on
you until you can control yourself! Got it?” He shook Deimos hard
enough that his teeth rattled.
“But why do Discord and Strife get to have--” Ares shook
him again, cutting him off.
“Get this through your head, lackwit: Discord and Strife can have
all the toys they want because one, they know how to care for them, and
two, they’re older and much more responsible than you.”
Ares grimaced slightly. “Now consider the fact that I just used
‘responsible’ in connection with those two morons, and
you’ll get some idea of how far you have to go. Now are we clear?” He
didn’t wait for a response, just tossed Deimos aside.
Deimos hit the floor with a yelp, but quickly scrambled to his feet,
glaring hard at Ares’ retreating back. “I’m telling
mom!” he threatened.
Ares just gave a disgusted snort. “Yeah, you go do that,”
he said as he bent back over the map. “And while you’re at
it, tell her the next time she wants a kid, she can knock herself up.
I’m not going through this shit again.”
Hands clenching into fists, Deimos grit his teeth to hold back a scream
of rage. He knew if he threw a fit like he wanted to, Ares would take a
belt to him hard enough that he could only dream of sitting for the
next week. Instead, he turned and took out his anger on the nearest
target, kicking hard at what was left of his broken toy.
The soldier’s head went flying across the temple, hitting the
wall with a meaty splat,
leaving a gooey splash of half congealed blood behind as it fell to the
floor.
“It’s still not fair,” Deimos muttered resentfully
under his breath. Dropping into the nearest chair, he crossed his arms
and sulked.
As I remember it, there was a challenge on the Strife_lust list dealing
with "orange." Beyond that, I got nothin'.
A Hairy Situation
October 2010
---------------------
“One of you fashion rejects is so gonna pay!” Aphrodite’s
enraged voice announced her presence a bare second before she appeared
in the middle of Ares’ temple, the usual pink and gold sparkles
flashing about her in a way that somehow managed to appear threatening.
Deimos shrieked and vanished with a pop that was barely audible over
the thunder that suddenly rolled through the temple, a perfect
accompaniment to the furious expression on Aphrodite’s face - a
face surrounded by a mass of bright orange hair.
Ares, slouched in his throne, just raised an eyebrow, a grin slowly
raising the corners of his mouth.
Strife oozed his way behind the nearest support column -- and found
himself sharing space with Discord.
“I was here first; find your own,” she ordered, giving his
shoulder a shove.
Smirking, Strife just slid closer, his shoulder to her chest. She
started to recoil, disgust plain in her expression, but Strife’s
whispered words froze her in her tracks: “I told you Aphrodite
was a bottle blond.”
“What--you did that?” Discord said in
disbelief, quickly glancing around the column before ducking back
behind it just as quickly.
“Yep.” Strife’s smirk widened. “Just a
little,” he snapped the fingers of both hands, dark blue sparkles
scattering from them, “and her hair dye she swears she doesn’t use goes
screwy.”
“You so much as think
about laughing, Ar, and you’ll end up in lust with the nearest
goat!” Aphrodite shouted.
“Hey, whatever you say, sis,” Ares said, amusement thick in
his voice. “I can see you’re feeling a little...off color
today.”
A wordless sound of fury and a flash of light so bright that Strife
winced and instinctively ducked -- an instinct Discord apparently
shared since they ended up knocking their heads together and nearly
staggering out from behind the protection of the column.
“You utter klutz!” Discord snarled at him, rubbing her
forehead.
“Yeah, and you’re Miss Coordination over there.”
Strife rolled his eyes, rubbing his own head.
Discord opened her mouth, to say what, Strife never knew, because at
that moment a goat trotted past the column -- a goat wearing black
leather and a silver earring in one ear.
“Ares?” Discord whispered. Strife just stared.
“Yaaa,” the goat bleated, then trotted away.
Shaking her head, Discord looked at Strife again. “You know, when
Aphrodite figures out you did this -- when Ares finds out -- you’re
going to be in the kind of trouble you can’t even begin to
imagine, Strife.” She smirked. “I can’t wait to see
what they do to you.”
“To me?” Strife gave her his best wide-eyed innocent look.
“But, what did I
do, Discord?” A quick zap of power, too fast for her to dodge,
and abruptly Discord’s hands were stained the same loud hue as
Aphrodite’s hair.
“Look at you, caught orange-handed,” Strife said with a
wicked grin, then shoved her hard.
Discord shrieked in anger as she staggered out from behind the column.
“You! Oh, I just knew it was you, you skank!”
Discord wrenched her furious gaze from Strife, eyes widening a moment
before a pink ball of light slammed into her, knocking her off her
feet. When she stood up again a moment later, her black leathers had
been transformed into pink chiffon with delicate lace trim.
Strife had to clamp both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing out
loud.
“You were always jealous that I’m so better looking!”
Aphrodite yelled, and another ball of fluffy pink light came flying
from her direction.
“Oh, as if!”
Discord leveled a narrow-eyed glare at her. With a wordless noise of
fury, she ran past the column, cherry red pools of energy forming in
her stained palms.
A moment later there were screams of hatred and insults and more
flashes of multicolored light; thunder began crashing throughout the
temple, shaking it to its foundations, sending bits of stone and mortar
dusting down to the floor.
As the column behind him began spiderwebbing with cracks, Strife
finally let out the laughter, bright and high-pitched, drowned out
amidst the cacophony around him. Fates above, how he loved his job!
mythdefied@gmail.com