(no subject)

[annapeace.livejournal.com]

Title: Sound Advice
A/N: Written for hockey_fc challenge #3, Mentor/Rookie.

“Um, Captain? I was just wondering, is it…does he…”

“Yeah, Peter always gets like this when his herpes is flaring up, don’t worry about it.”

“No, I mean…it’s blue.”

“And that’s why we don’t sleep with Peter Forsberg, kid. Not unless you want it to burn when you piss.”

--

Title: Sakurazukamori
Summary: The Tree reflects.

The truth is, blood will always taste like blood and leaves a faint ionic aftertaste after I’ve eaten. So the difference, the preference, comes from how the blood feels running through me.

Babies are mild, warm and silky smooth. Old people are bland and thin and slightly bitter. Women tend to have thicker blood, rich and dark. Men are the white bread, ordinary, mundane. When I’m in the mood, I like children; they are usually fizzy and uplifting. But my favorite is always the teenager. They are so full of hormones their blood is a flash bang swerve and it makes me quiver.

My caretaker likes it when I quiver because it creates showers of blossoms, which he seems to find beautiful. It works out well for me because it means he’ll feed me teenagers more often.

There is one teenager I’ve never gotten in my roots, and it makes me wistful because he would have been so good. He’s all grown up now, but I still think he’d be good. However, I’m fairly sure my caretaker will not feed him to me. My caretaker loves him. Which means, someday soon, I will get to eat my caretaker. Once my caretakers fall in love, they are mine. Their last service to me, for the powers I have given them all those years.

I’ve heard people refer to me as a vampire once, but that is not correct. I might live on blood, but I am alive. Quite possibly, I am more alive than anything on this earth. And I will live on even once this world is gone. Just as long as one seed remains, there will always be blood. And there will always be a need for me.

Exhale once
Across my branches
Dripping away
Like blood, like snow
My petals of pink
They taste of yesterday

--

Title: Strong Enough
Summary: It isn't that he's weak, he's just not strong enough yet.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Eve asked, sounding small and quiet.

He crossed his arms and resolutely kept his back to the closed door. “I don’t like seeing you like…that.”

“Ah. I understand.” Her voice was now bitter and swollen. “I had them take out the mirror. God forgive me, but after everything that’s happened, I never thought I’d be vain.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he snapped. He tilted his head back and rested it against the doorframe, closing his eyes. “It’s just…you’re the strongest person I know. And seeing you like this makes me realize you’re not indestructible. I could lose you. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin.”

Slowly, “So you’re just never going to look at me again?”

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Not until I can keep my skin on.”

He could hear her breath of laughter.

“I should have known. You are my little king, after all.”