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So I’ve Started Out

Jan27

To Anonymous’ commissioned prompt, a continuation of this story (and on LJ).

Addergoole has a landing page here and on LJ.

Flying, Arundel was learning, was hard work, and exhausting. Even though Mr. Hawk told him that it wasn’t all in the muscles – “If you were doing this all with physical strength, you’d never get off the ground. Your flight is as much a part of your magic as, well, whatever you innate power is going to be,” – there was certainly a lot of something going on with his body, moving these new, strange, massive wings, keeping himself going.

And, of course, there was the falling. He wasn’t, he discovered, frightened of falling, but it hurt, and he liked to avoid the pain, not in the least because it made Sylvia tut-tut at him, which made him wriggle in uncomfortable ways and made Porter glower and sulk.

He wanted to ask his friend about that, but they didn’t seem to have a lot of time to talk. There was class – they had a couple in common, but there were always other people around. Then there were magic classes, and then sessions with their Mentors, and then they were in the suite that Sylvia had finagled for them, despite the objections of the Director’s secretary, who seemed to think that Arundel and the otter girl ought to be sharing a room.

He wasn’t entirely stupid. He’d seen other kids in their class Kept, just like Porter had. He’d seen the collars before Sylvia had put one on him, and he had some idea of how those relationships went, or at least how some of them went, controlling, uber-power-dichotomy sort of things that were still a lot like high school dating. But he wasn’t, as far as he could tell, dating Sylvia, and he wasn’t entirely certain why not.

Luke had said he could come to him with anything. Arundel wasn’t sure that this was the sort of thing he meant – the PE teacher seemed like the “how do I break the bully’s nose” or “how do I not fail math” sort of guy, but “anything” meant anything, and, besides, he wasn’t sure who else to ask. So, at the end of a long, exhausting flying session, stretching his shoulders and wings on the ground, Arundul cleared his throat and, very nervously, asked.

“Sir… this ‘Kept’ thing?”

Luke got an uncomfortable, gassy expression. “What about it?”

“It’s real? I mean… of course it’s real.” He could feel the effects. “But it’s okay?”

“Okay is relative,” Luke grunted. “But it’s allowed by school rules, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“This school is a little messed up, sir. Sorry…. but it is.”

“I’m not arguing.”

It looked like Luke would have been comfortable leaving the conversation there, and Arundel really couldn’t blame him for that. But he still had questions, and he had to start somewhere.

“The collar…?”

“That’s part of larger Ellehemaei society. Not required, but common. Tells other people ‘hands off.'”

“Okay, I can get that. But, um.” He pulled some grass unhappily. “Everyone else I see wearing a collar, they’re all, cuddled up to their… their owner?”

“Or Keeper.”

“To their Keeper. And a couple even say ‘my boyfriend’ or ‘my girlfriend,’ like they’re dating. And Sylvia…”

“Well, Sylvia’s always been a bit…” Luke paused, frowning. “Reserved. Ask her about it?”

Arundel blanched. “No, thank you!” He wasn’t scared of Sylvia. But she didn’t like questions a whole lot, and she didn’t like personal questions at all.

“Hunh, like that, is it?” Luke shook his head. “Do those stretches I showed you. I’ll think on it a little bit. But as to what you’re asking – it’s not always ‘dating,’ whatever that means this decade. It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“Ack.” The grass was very, very fascinating. “Ack,” he muttered again. “Okay. Um. Sorry I asked?”

Luke stood up. “Stretch. Worry about Sylvia on her time. And on my time, we’re going to go through those flight positions.”

Worry about Sylvia on her time. It seemed like reasonable advice, and also seemed less likely to get him assigned more push-ups for making his Mentor uncomfortable. Arundel waited until he was back in their suite, showered, dried, and patiently drying his wings before he went back to worrying about Sylvia, under the theory that time that wasn’t for classes or Luke belonged, for good or ill, to his Keeper.

He was still chewing it over when Sylvia walked into his room – she did that, without knocking, and he really couldn’t figure out how to complain – and started drying his wings for him. The touch felt, as her touch always did, nicer than it ought to, nicer than anything. “Sylvia,” he started cautiously. Half the time when he started talking, she just shushed him.

This time, she just said, in her so-very-mild neutral voice that left him a little anchorless, “Arundel?”

“Isn’t Keeping generally… I mean, doesn’t it usually sort of act like dating?”

“It often does,” she agreed, her neutral getting a little colder.

“But you and me…?” Why did Hayley think I’d need a shrink?

“You and I are not dating,” she answered, setting the towel down. “I would not force dating on you.”

He turned to look at her, folding his wings in. He was beginning to learn how to not hit people or low-lying objects or walls or irate professors with them, but only recently. He really, really didn’t want to hit her with his wings. Certainly not now.

“You wouldn’t… force… dating on me?” he repeated, carefully, to make sure he had heard her right. “You think it would be force?”

“I Own you,” she answered, stepping backwards a half-step. “I could tell you we were dating, and we would be. I could tell you to take your clothes off, and you would.”

He sat down on the bed with a thump. “Sylvia, you’re a pretty girl who’s been nice to me since you met me. You could tell me to take my clothes off without this Keeping thing, and I would.”

“But the Bond takes away your choice,” she explained, a little plaintively.

He shook his head, more than a little disbelieving. “Well… so does not asking me, wouldn’t you say?”

Next: Trying (LJ) (Arundel/Sylvia Year 8)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/246592.html. You can comment here or there.

Mother-Son bonding, a story of Boom!Post-Apoc for @Inventrix

Jan27

After Separation Anxiety (LJ) Parting Advice, and Mother Bears (LJ), in the Boom!/RP timeline. I believe this is part three of four.

Yoshi was waiting in the Village when Cya came to get him. Driving separately was a waste of gas, especially with the world falling to pieces, but she liked the time alone with her son; she’d freed Ankara on the way and enjoyed the rare quiet of the rest of the drive.

She Found her son with no trouble, leaning against a fence by Maureen’s where she’d Found more than a few of her yearly Kept. Her heart twisted in her chest a little, until she saw the boy he was standing next to, a tall strawberry blond with long, narrow antlers, which made an entirely different set of twists start happening.

She had, rather pointedly, not thought about what would happen to her Kept du jour habit when her boys went to school, not thought about picking up a boy while picking up her son. The fae stayed young for a very long time, but that didn’t make her feel much better about picking up boys her kids’ age.

Still, seeing the boy – those antlers! – with her son, she shifted her Mask to that of a woman old enough to be Yoshi’s mother instead of his younger sister, and pulled her car up to a nearby parking spot.

She was just in time, as she got out of the car, to see a lovely petite girl walk up to her son, her ocean-blue hair swaying with her hips like the tide coming in. The girl set her hands on Yoshi’s shoulders – it was only then, focusing on the webbed fingers, that Cya noticed her son looked the same as he had when she dropped him off ten months ago – and kissed him proprietarily, then, as Cya took her sweet time closing in on them, did the same for the antlered boy, leaving both of them looking dazed and uncertain.

The girl swayed off, to the protective arms of a woman Cya recognized, in a vague sort of way, as a Seventh Cohort girl. Hrrmph. She swallowed her over-protective indignation (It went in the same oubliette as many of her other unhelpful emotions, like jealousy, and completed her walk to her son, giving him time to see her, time to wipe the lost expression off his face.

“Mom,” he grinned. The grin started out forced – she recognized the expression, from his father’s face and her own – and was entirely genuine-seeming by the time she got within hugging distance. Would he… boys grew distant from their mothers, she’d been told, to leave the nest properly. But he hugged her, tightly, as he had when he was a child and needed comfort.

She patted his shoulder and pretended not to notice. “Ready to go home for the summer?” she asked instead. “Uncle Howard has a list of chores already started for you.”

“Even if shoveling cow shit is on the list,” he murmured feelingly, and Cya felt the urge to kill rising – dampened, in the next moment, by her son’s entirely disingenuous, “Mom, this is Panlong. Pan. He was in a crew with my Keeper this year – Tethys, with the hair? – and when his dad didn’t show, I told him you could give him a ride home. I hope you don’t mind.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/246296.html. You can comment here or there.

Consequences

Jan26

After Three-Way, the Duet.
3-Way originally posted here and on LJ,
continued here (LJ)
and then here (LJ
and then
Here (Duet) and Here on LJ
And the “Preferences” (LJ) and
“9 Things I Hate About You” (LJ)

For cluudle, for being awesome.

Content warning: this relationship borders on emotionally abusive.


Thorburn released Ceinwen slowly from the hug. It seemed as if he’d been holding her forever, since he’d agreed that now was not the time to talk about the elephant in the living room, since he’d said they had room for negotiation. She’d thought he’d forgotten. She wasn’t quite sure he hadn’t fallen asleep; she wasn’t sure she hadn’t, either. It had been a long day, and it was late.

“You were right. I said you could earn your clothes back, your things. And I never told you how. I admit, I didn’t think about how much.” He stroked her arm. “I like the things I put you in. And I like you naked next to me.”

She wasn’t sure if now was still the time for talking, but she tried. “I wouldn’t mind, if it didn’t feel so demeaning.” Like she wasn’t a person enough to get clothes.

He nodded slowly. “If I don’t wear anything to bed…” He stopped what he was going to say, but she could see the shadows around him. “then you will be getting more waking up in the middle of the night than I think you’d prefer. Boxers and panties?”

“Am I getting a say?”

“I do want you to be happy. And I’d say for helping Basalt out, you deserve a reward, wouldn’t you?”

“I…” She twisted her lips. “‘Good girl, have a gold star?'”

He frowned at her. “You’re not a child, Ceinwen, but you are Mine, and that does mean I get to reward and punish you as I choose. I’d rather work out rewards, give you things for pleasing me. Would you prefer I punish you when you irritate me?”

“The way it seems lately, you’d be punishing me all the time and never rewarding me anyway,” she muttered. She had just a second to realize she’d pushed him too far before he picked her up and bent her over his lap, her wrists pinned at the small of her back. He pulled her skirt up – always skirts, he’d taken all her pants – and his hand came down hard on her ass, one cheek and then the other.

She yelped at the first hit, struggling against his hands, and then whimpered at the second. After that, she froze, hoping he’d stop. She could feel his erection against her stomach and ribs, which made the whole thing more humiliating, more terrifying, more arousing.

He leaned down until his lips were near her ears. “I’d like doing that every time you mouthed off,” he whispered. “But I don’t think you would. So I’ll reward you, and I’ll tell you what will earn rewards. And maybe, sometimes, then, I can just spank you for fun.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/245865.html. You can comment here or there.

Behind Door Number Three

Jan24

To Anonymous’ commissioned prompt, a continuation of this story (and on LJ).

Addergoole has a landing page here and on LJ.

Porter stared at the strange girl who had so tidily taken control of their lives – Arundel’s more than his, certainly, but still. Then it hit him. “Right. Come on, Arun.” He dropped to his knees and got a shoulder under his friend’s arm. “Stand up, that’s it.”

“Ow,” Arundel complained weakly.

“Yeah, I know. Those look like they’re gonna hurt worse than a tail and my ears did. But you gotta stand up.”

“Stand up,” Sylvia echoed, and with a muffled whimper, Arundel made it to his feet. “That’s better.” She slid herself under his other arm. “Porter and I will get you there. I’ll take care of you.” She opened her door and they edged, carefully, through it. “Do you know any combat magic, tiger?”

“Um. I can aba… destroy stuff, but that’s about it. We’ve only barely begun to learn anything useful.”

“Pity. Well. Look fierce if anyone tries to stop us, then, how about that?”

Her tone made Porter bristle, even as he helped Arundel down the hall as gently as he could. “Who do you think you are, to boss me around like this?”

“Well,” she answered, maddeningly calmly, “I believe I’m the person who just Kept your friend. And while you’re under no obligation to do as I say, of course, he is, and, furthermore, I am only taking charge to keep you and he – and myself – safe, so it’s safe to believe that my ‘bossing’ is in your best interest.”

“Seems to me,” he grumbled, “that the only person I can trust to act in my best interests around here is myself. Come on, man, it’s not that much further.”

“Yourself, and your crew,” she agreed placidly. “Which, you may have noticed, we agreed to be.”

“Mmm,” he muttered, focusing on Arundel’s pained footsteps. “So you get a Kept out of this. I get to keep hanging out with my friend. Arundel gets…”

“A benevolent Keeper, the continued companionship of his friend, and my assurance that I’ll do my best to keep you, in turn, from being Kept. I also get your protection, once the two of you learn to fight. In other words, we become a small consortium of watching each others’ backs.” She smiled, a small, tight thing, as they reached Dr. Caitrin’s office. “If we end up liking each other, that will be a pleasant bonus. You two seem like people I might be able to like, and there have been precious few of those so far in Addergoole.”

“I could like you,” Arundel muttered. He was twisting in their arms, trying to arch his back. “But that could be the Keeping thingy.”

“Probably,” she agreed, the smile barely shifting. “I’m told I’m not, generally, all that likable.”

“That’s sad,” he frowned. “Porter will like you, too, won’t you, Port?”

Porter, sighing, forced himself to calm down, the fur on his neck and tail slowly settling. “If you want me to like her, buddy, I will. What are friends for, anyway?”

He met Sylvia’s gaze as they maneuvered his semi-delirious friend into the exam room. From the look in her eyes, she knew as well as he did that it would be a longer process than that. But they would both make the effort. That was, as he’d said, what crew was for.

~

It seemed she had a very specific, very close interpretation of “crew,” which Porter couldn’t really object to. Arundel was hardly standing again, swaying a bit with the effects of the little blue pills, when Sylvia dragged them to the Director’s secretary’s office.

“We need a three-room suite. I know one’s opened up recently.”

The woman looked over her glasses at Sylvia, clearly less impressed with her preemptory manner than Porter and Arundel were. “You do, hrrm? Didn’t I hear that Arundel was now oro’Sylvia?”

“Well, yes,” she answered easily, “but that doesn’t mean that we don’t need a three-room suite.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Will I need to schedule an appointment with Dr. Mendosa?” she asked quietly, but with clear, if entirely vague, threat.

“I believe we’ll be just fine. But a three-bedroom suite will give us all a little more breathing room, and that would be a very good thing,” Sylvia said very precisely.

The woman frowned, but nodded. “Very well. Since Professor Pelletier had suggested we hold this suite, I’m going to assume this is why. You can move in today.”

“Just like that?” Porter couldn’t help but ask. Why Professor Pelletier?

“When the psychic deems something,” Sylvia murmurs, “this Administration listens. It’s one of the advantages of this school.”

Porter, who had heard plenty of the disadvantages, listened with curiosity. “So. Arundel’s moving in with you, and you want me to move in with you, too?” The three-bedrooms thing was, he had to admit, strange, at least from what he’d heard.

“You want to spend time with your friend, don’t you? And we’re crew now, aren’t we?”

He had a feeling he was going to hear that argument a lot. “All right,” he muttered. He wasn’t all that attached to his room, anyway.

Later, with all their things carted into the suite and generally distributed between the three rooms, Sylvia declared that, now that they had a kitchen, she was going to do some real shopping.

“Stay in the suite,” she ordered Arundel, after having taken a close look at his eyes. “I shouldn’t be more than hour; if I’m longer than that, you may come looking for me.”

He mumbled something uncomfortable, and waited until she left to flop face-first onto the couch. “Shit.”

Porter flopped down in the armchair. “It could be worse?” he offered. “I mean, you have wings.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty awesome,” he admitted, twisting to look at the feathers, which coordinated with his hair nicely. “But … Sylvia.”

“Well, you said yes?” Porter pointed out, mostly to avoid the stab of guilt he felt. “I’m sorry about the doorway thing, man.”

“The porthole? I figured that was you. Though the rest was a bit of a surprise.”

“She promised she’d be good to you.” For some definition of “good,” he supposed. “Why did you say yes?”

“I wasn’t paying attention!” he shouted, and then put both hands over his head. “Ow. It’s like she planned this all out. And that’s impossible.”

“Well, think about what she said about psychics?” He wasn’t sure that was right, but it was an option. “Maybe she really did plan it out.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/242420.html. You can comment here or there.

Parting Advice, and Mother Bears, a story of Boom!Post-Apoc for @Inventrix

Jan22

After Separation Anxiety (LJ), in the Boom! roleplay timeline.

They’d managed benign small talk while they packed, and while they drove, Viddie and Ankara pestering each other in the back seat while Cya and Yoshi tried to pretend there was nothing to be uncomfortable about. They were nearly at the school’s wards when she managed to say anything at all.

“There’s things…”

“I know, Mom. Every adult in the ranch and half of your Kept over the last decade have tried to tell me. Including the rabbit.” He sighed impatiently. “It’s not like I’m going in blind and without back up. I’m practically the last of the Brood to go.”

“Hardly,” Viddie complained from the back seat. “There’s me, and Ruki, and Kitten, and…”

“I get the point,” Yoshi interrupted. “But it’s not like I’m the first.”

“Well, no. That was Dora.”

“I get the point, too,” Cya interjected. “But I am allowed to worry, Yoshi. It’s my right and duty as a mother.”

“And I’m allowed to roll my eyes and tell you I’ll be fine. And, seriously, if Ankara can survive it, I’m going to be okay.”

“Gee, thanks,” the angora-boy in the back seat muttered. A little louder, he added, “if all else fails, just keep your head down and don’t say anything.” He sounded less lost and more defensive than Cya had ever heard him. “You might not like me much, but I did okay there. As well as can be expected.”

As well as can be expected. Cya’s hand went to the side of her throat, and she swallowed, hard. “Remember,” she said, fiercely, “it’s only four years.” And in four years, if anyone had hurt her son, had used or abused him, she would Find them, and she would introduce them to a whole new world of pain.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/241581.html. You can comment here or there.

Family Legacy

Jan22

For cluudle‘s prompt

Addergoole has a landing page here and on LJ

This story requires, I think, some background to really understand.

Her father was scolding Falk again.

Regine could hear every word through the library wall. If she moved to the other side of the library, she wouldn’t have to hear them anymore, and would be able to focus on her studies. She was fascinated with this book, with the whole series of them her father had found and brought for her and Falk, one at a time, plying them with scholarly works the way some girls’ parents brought them toys or clothing.

“Haven’t I given you everything?” their father was demanding, in the quiet way that was so much more real, more intense, than the yelling she’d heard other men do. Her father never yelled. “I have provided you every advantage, Falk. Everything.”

Falk’s answer was almost swallowed. If their father was calm and soft-spoken, Falk was nearly inaudible on a good day. “You’ve given me everything to start, Father. And I am very grateful for that.”

“If you’re grateful, then why would you have done this? Why would you have besmirched my legacy this way?” Their father wasn’t shouting. He would never shout. But his voice was getting a bit more enthusiastic.

“I didn’t do this on purpose. Believe me, it was my sincere wish to Change properly. I don’t know what happened, Father. I didn’t do this to spite you. I didn’t do this at all.”

“My blood is pure-blooded Grigori. My line can be counted all the way back to the Greeks. To the Gods themselves. This must have been another of your experimental ideas.” Their father made “experimental” sound like a perversion. “You will fix this mockery, or you will leave.”

“Father…”

Regine looked down at the book in her hands, and moved to the other side of the library.

Regine and her father Changed as full-blooded Grigori; her half-brother, Falk, did not. At that time, the early 1700’s, the wheres and whyfores of pure-blooded or half-blooded were not understood. The genetics of the Ellehemaei are still not all that well understood.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/241305.html. You can comment here or there.

Teasers for the Friendly Neighborhood Anonymous Prompt/Donor

Jan22

So Anonymous knows I’m working on their commissions from the December call. 😉

Porter stared at the strange girl who had so tidily taken control of their lives – Arundel’s more than his, certainly, but still. Then it hit him. “Right. Come on, Arun.” He dropped to his knees and got a shoulder under his friend’s arm. “Stand up, that’s it.”

“Ow,” Arundel complained weakly.

“Yeah, I know. Those look like they’re gonna hurt worse than a tail and my ears did. But you gotta stand up.”

“Stand up,” Sylvia echoed, and with a muffled whimper, Arundel made it to his feet. “That’s better.” She slid herself under his other arm.

Flying, Arundel was learning, was hard work, and exhausting. Even though Mr. Hawk told him that it wasn’t all in the muscles – “If you were doing this all with physical strength, you’d never get off the ground. Your flight is as much a part of your magic as, well, whatever you innate power is going to be,” – there was certainly a lot of something going on with his body, moving these new, strange, massive wings, keeping himself going.

And, of course, there was the falling. He wasn’t, he discovered, frightened of falling, but it hurt, and he liked to avoid the pain…

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/240572.html. You can comment here or there.

Separation Anxiety, a story of Boom! Post-apoc for @inventrix, @cluudle, et al – PART ONE

Jan20

This is a story of my RP-in-Addergoole character, Cynara, some years after the apoc but not that many, sending her oldest son Yoshi off to Addergoole. She’s shown up in (see landing page) a couple stories before.

“All right, Yoshi, is everything packed?” Cynara knew the question was stupid. Of course everything was packed. She’d taken care of the first run herself, and the third run, and let her oldest handle the middle stuff himself. Everything was in its place, and Yoshi was heading off to school like she had, so many-so few years ago.

“Everything’s set, Mom.” To his credit, he tried not to let her see him roll his eyes. “I hid the rowan like you said, left the steel where Luke can see it, and I have the throw-away knife for him to take off of me. I’ve got food for two weeks and clothes… for an entire school… for at least a week. Who wears this many clothes?”

“Boys who want to meet girls who don’t think they stink,” she answered, the mom part of her brain working on automatic pilot. “Which I assume you eventually will, once your… ‘cousins’…. stop leaning on you.”

This time, he didn’t bother hiding the eye-roll. “No interest in being a lap-pet, thanks, Mom.”

Now she couldn’t help but chuckle. Looking over at Ankara, she wasn’t surprised at her oldest’s assessment of “meeting girls,” but…

“Your father was never a lap-pet,” she lied. “Your Uncle Howard, Uncle Leofric… not all men are puppy dogs.”

“No,” he laughed, “some are rabbits. Cursed gods, I’m not going to grow ears like that, am I?”

“You can’t blame Ankara for his heritage,” she answered, but she was smiling, too. “Well, one of your grandfathers has antlers. I can’t guarantee how you’ll turn out, but I’m sure you’ll be handsome.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/238292.html. You can comment here or there.

Calling in the Storm

Jan12

For Rix_Scaedu‘s commissioned prompt. This is set in the Addergoole ‘verse, whose landing page is here on DW & here on LJ.

I believe (@inventrix’s suggestion) that Diarmaid is Mabina-and-Cassidy’s daughter born after school. This puts this around year 26-28).

This is after The Leftover Gift (LJ)

The natives – or at least the house-guests – were getting restless, and Diarmaid was running out of things to distract them with. Edelin had headed out to the Store “just to pick something up” over an hour ago, and hadn’t been seen nor heard from since. Solange had told them she’d be along later, and never shown up. And a peek outside still showed the halls to be loud, dark, and entirely creepy.

Diar’s parents had been frustratingly close-lipped about the school, but her older brother and sister had told her two things when they came home last summer: “Remember, you’re a cook, not a fighter,” and “if everything looks like it’s going handbasket-y, close your door and don’t let anyone in.”

Looking ruefully around her packed room, Diar decided she listened just about as well as everyone else in her family. Every friend she’d made in two weeks here at Addergoole – except Edelin and Solange – was crowded in here, eating her shepherd’s pie and playing whatever games they could think up.

Flurry, however, was staring at the door thoughtfully. “My room’s just across the pod, Diar,” he wheedled.

“And it might as well be on the moon, Flurry. You are staying right here where you are. Here, have some cake, why don’tcha.”

“Where did you come up with cake?”

“Leftovers, of course. It’s fine, Tony ate two pieces and didn’t fall over.”

“I trust you. And it’s not…” he paused to swallow the cake nigh-on-whole “…that I don’t like your company, Diar. I’d like a lot more of it, maybe in a less crowded situation.”

“And I’m sure you would, my dear, but that’s not today.” And maybe not any day. Her Cohort, or the boys, at least, seemed so young.

“It’s really not,” he agreed. “But I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Of course you don’t, and I’m not sitting not babying you. If you want to go out into the loud fuss and muss, well, you’re an adult now, aren’t you? I just worry.” She was, she knew, channeling her mother. She was also genuinely worried.

“I’m an adult,” he agreed, not entirely certainly, but studying her expression, he nodded again, a little firmly. “You don’t have to look after me, Diar. I can handle myself.”

Gods save us from boys who want to be men. “Then go, Flurry. I’m not stopping you.” Come back with your shield… Down, girl. He’s not yours to send off to battle. But send him off she did, holding the door open for him.

Flury was barely halfway across the dark pod when something with far too many arms grabbed him, pulling him up into mid air. Diar, pretending she wasn’t standing in her open door watching, gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Too late; all of her guests were watching over or around her shoulders now.

“Let me go!” Flurry gasped, struggling, and then really fighting in earnest, pushing against the arms. The air was getting colder and colder, or was that just her nerves? Diar hugged herself tightly, staring at her friend.

It was only in staring that she managed to notice when he went from a short stocky boy to an icicle, the icicle slipping to the ground in, unsurprisingly, a flurry of ice and snow. But he was still there, at the center of the storm, blue and freezing, and the octopus-squid thing was grabbing for him.

Channeling her mother like never before, Diarmaid snapped out into the pod. “Flurry sh’Eirlys, you get back in here this instant.”

She was happily surprised when that worked, and the storm bowled her over in returning over her threshold. Staring down where she thought the octopus’ eyes were, she informed it calmly, “This is my family.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/228883.html. You can comment here or there.

Dreams and Awakening

Jan11

Ceinwen & Thorburn, Addergoole Year 9. Kinkmas warnings apply: this involves some rough handling.

Finished my card and then some, so using Random.org set to 400 and the communal cards

Sleeping/Unconscious
The darkness poked into all the corners, filling the room. Filling this school with shadows, nightmare creatures, dream-demons. But in the middle, she sat, wrapped around a great dark shadow, shining her light on it.

The light seemed to come out of her like a physical force, pressing out of her mouth, out of her eyes, out of her nether places like shafts, penetrating the shadowy places of her lover, pushing into his most private thoughts. She touched a nerve, and withdrew at the gasp, then pushed inside him again, sending the warmth of her light spilling inside his darkness.

Breathplay
Ceinwen woke suddenly from the strangest dream she’d had in a while, woke to find Thorburn on top of her, his hands around her throat, pressing down, his erection already sheathed inside of her, his eyes wild.

She gasped, but couldn’t get a sound out, choking against the pressure on her throat. He wasn’t even really awake yet, still lost in some nightmare – gods, in the dream she’d been having. In the shadows she’d penetrated. She tried again for words as she felt the skin around her eyes tighten, forced the golden light at him instead, as he thrust wildly.

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