the androgynous keeper of plushfrogs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crossfortune) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2016-01-25 12:11 am
crossfortune) wrote in rainbowfic2016-01-25 12:11 am
soon love soon
Name: Mischa
Story: the empty throne
Colors: bistre (Do you suppose that when we tell our brooding, haughty horde the glorious tale of their parents' exploits, we might leave that part out of it?), Side B (I'm happy. Hope you're happy, too. I've loved. All I've needed: love. Sordid details following.→Ashes to Ashes (Scary Monsters), warm light (everything's fine in the morning)
Supplies and Styles: graffiti (the Snowed In challenge, here.), canvas
Word Count: 259
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none, I think?
Summary: The eldest daughter of the youngest god in heaven fell in love with a mortal. Yin, in the early days of her marriage, before heartbreak and death.
notes:
Yin loves her husband, her fragile mortal husband, and never says the words, though she brushes fingers down his arms and braids lilies in his hair (lilies for a hundred years of love, though she’ll love him long after he’s ash and memory), smiles at him when he wakes in the morning.
“Good morning, beloved,” Zemin says, and smiles warmly as he twines his fingers with hers. Both their hands are sword-callused, legacy of pasts they never speak of: the brilliant strategist inside the skin of the quiet scholar and farmer he wants nothing more than to be, the eldest daughter of the youngest of the gods who led her brothers and sisters into rebellion and helped break the world.
She dreams of peace, of children (daughters, of a son who doesn’t stare back with her father’s eyes), of a shared simple, happy life, of all the possibilities, however temporary. Someday, someday, Zemin will die, like all mortals do, and she will carry him with her long after he is gone. He looks at her with love in his eyes, twines his hands with hers, and Yin smiles with all the light that’s part of her: make your choices, daughter, and live with them, and she’s chosen to love this man, to build a life with him, even as she accepts its inevitable end.
(she never says the words, because the Eldest only loves that which is beloved, and he’s taken her father from her already. isn’t that more than enough?)
Story: the empty throne
Colors: bistre (Do you suppose that when we tell our brooding, haughty horde the glorious tale of their parents' exploits, we might leave that part out of it?), Side B (I'm happy. Hope you're happy, too. I've loved. All I've needed: love. Sordid details following.→Ashes to Ashes (Scary Monsters), warm light (everything's fine in the morning)
Supplies and Styles: graffiti (the Snowed In challenge, here.), canvas
Word Count: 259
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none, I think?
Summary: The eldest daughter of the youngest god in heaven fell in love with a mortal. Yin, in the early days of her marriage, before heartbreak and death.
notes:
Yin loves her husband, her fragile mortal husband, and never says the words, though she brushes fingers down his arms and braids lilies in his hair (lilies for a hundred years of love, though she’ll love him long after he’s ash and memory), smiles at him when he wakes in the morning.
“Good morning, beloved,” Zemin says, and smiles warmly as he twines his fingers with hers. Both their hands are sword-callused, legacy of pasts they never speak of: the brilliant strategist inside the skin of the quiet scholar and farmer he wants nothing more than to be, the eldest daughter of the youngest of the gods who led her brothers and sisters into rebellion and helped break the world.
She dreams of peace, of children (daughters, of a son who doesn’t stare back with her father’s eyes), of a shared simple, happy life, of all the possibilities, however temporary. Someday, someday, Zemin will die, like all mortals do, and she will carry him with her long after he is gone. He looks at her with love in his eyes, twines his hands with hers, and Yin smiles with all the light that’s part of her: make your choices, daughter, and live with them, and she’s chosen to love this man, to build a life with him, even as she accepts its inevitable end.
(she never says the words, because the Eldest only loves that which is beloved, and he’s taken her father from her already. isn’t that more than enough?)