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Funerary Rites 23: Home

Aug13

🔑

Erramun stepped through the door, looked back at her, and looked back into the room.  “There is nothing particularly troubling, unless you count the decorating.” He wrinkled his nose.  “That, on the other hand, is fairly disturbing.”

Senga stepped in, grateful for the small humour.  “I don’t think my Grandmother did anything but renew the Preserve Working on things that her grandmother had chosen.  As far as I know, it’s not tied in to any legacy or anything
”

Her grandmother’s grandmother had preferred pink floral chintz and an everything-matches set-up that made the room look something like the inside of a pepto bismal bottle.  But everything was still intact: the bed with its pink chintz canopy and excessive decorative pillows, even with the hollow where her grandmother’s dogs had slept at the foot of the bed; the Queen Anne furnishings that had been painted just as pink as everything else, the wide windows with their matching curtains, valances, fringed
 things…. Continue reading →

Beauty-Beast 41: Bitch

Aug11

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

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Sal drove without chit-chat, at least at the beginning, but after three blocks, the glass between the two sections came down.  “Boss. Your boy is shifting back and forth like someone’s sending him to the principal’s office.”

Ctirad froze.  “Am not.”

“You were,” Sal countered.  “You’re going out in public with the boss for the first time.  You have a pretty good idea what’s expected of you in private. But now you’re in public.  What does wearing the boss’ collar mean for you when you’re out there, in front of other fae?  Other than us that work for him, I mean.”

“
Yeah
” Ctirad muttered.  “I mean. I’m his bodyguard.  Your bodyguard, sir. That happens to also be your boyfriend.  It’s not like people don’t have bodyguard-lovers. I mean, Lex Luthor
” He trailed off. Continue reading →

Spoils of War 11 – Animalia

Aug3

First: Spoils of War I: Surrender
Previous: Out of Hell

Aran left a solid block of the road converted into salt and then, for good measure, the two cross streets.  The slug could move around it, sure, but it would take the thing time.

By that point, hopefully she could figure out how it was trailing them.  She closed her eyes again. Maybe-

“Wait.  It’s an animal, right?  I mean, we hope it’s not a person.  So why don’t you steer and I see if I can figure it out?”  He poked her in the arm and snorted. “Come on, you worked in team.  A troupe. So why are you trying to do everything yourself?” Continue reading →

Bad Things: Pet

Jul31

Content warnings: dehumanization (literally), torture, captivity, more torture, humiliation, loss of self, semi-starvation and food-based torture.  Off of this prompt. 

@Chanter_Greenie, I bet you know who this is. 

Someone remind me to post the post-Ghost Story bit once I find it?

The transformation had hurt like hell.

On bad moments, he held on to that.

She was good at these things; he was pretty sure she could’ve made it painless.  She liked the pain — she like his pain.

When he’d realized what she was doing, he’d tried to run away, despite the shackles holding him down, despite the blades she’d driven through both his feet.  “Little beastie,” she’d purred into his ear. “Beast you are, and I don’t think you look the part enough.” Continue reading →

Beauty-Beast 40: Yourself

Jul31

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

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“
We should do what we have to with our day.”  The look on Timaios’ face had nothing to do with business and everything to do with business.  But his words
 he had to pay attention to his words.

Ctirad cleared his throat.  “As you wish, sir.”

Timaios’ expression, if anything, became more lascivious.   “Oh, oh Ctirad, you are delicious right now.  Can you smile a little for me?”

“For ‘delicious,’ sir, I can smile more than a little.”  He let his lips turn up in a broad smile and lowered his chin, not out of shyness but to look up at his owner through his eyelashes.  “I’m glad you the way I look in the clothes you bought me, sir. Timaios.” He shifted one hip, posing. “And when we are done with business I hope you like taking them off of me too.” Continue reading →

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Mischief

Jul31

Count: ~800
Chara(s): A god of Mischief (OC*)
Pairing(s): N/A
Fandom: Org Fic – Fae Apoc xover
Prompt: Muzzled

So this.  This is a series of stories taking place in my universe, Fae Apoc, at the time just before the aforementioned apoc.  Portals are opening up to one other world at that time, and in this story, well, they happen to open up into a whole BUNCH of worlds. 

And from those worlds, a bunch of poor soon-to-be-victims-of-bad-things who bear some resemblances to fandom characters happen to slip through some portals.  And then bad things happen to them. 

Because that, after all, is the name of the Bingo.

Content warnings: bondage, capture, humiliation

This is technically Chapter Four.  Chapter Three (Genius) and Chapter One (Asset) will return later. 

4. Mischief

He’d really pissed off someone this time.  

Mischief wasn’t sure how they’d taken him down; generally he could get out of any trap.  That was, after all, what he was known and made for. Causing chaos. Getting out of trouble.  Causing more trouble.

But right now, he was in a cage, and they had put a muzzle on him.

The worst indignity of all, the thing that was making him glare at the bars as if without words he might be able to tear them off their hinges, was that they hadn’t even done that specially for him.  

There were people in three of the other cages, and they were all wearing muzzles and wooden collars.

After that, the indignity of being naked seemed hardly important.

But he was Mischief, and he wasn’t going to put up with anything like that.  He could pull on illusion without speaking. He could pull on illusion without his magic.  He could pull on illusion while half-dead and bleeding out.

He pulled his favorite court jacket and trews out of the air and wrapped them around himself.  He tried for a smirk, but the muzzle pressed at his lips and his cheeks.

It was a nasty thing – splintery wood, like the collar, and metal, a piece over his tongue in metal with little spikes in it, and bands under his chin and over his nose.  He had been muzzled before – by the court of his father, for being what he was. By the enemies of his father’s court, for the same reason. Those muzzles had been frustrating, annoying, and in the end, had shown that he had been caught doing his job, being exactly what he was supposed to. Continue reading →

Haunted House 19: Wardrobe

Jul28

First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: In the Henhouse

🌳🏚🌳

“You said
”  MĂ©lanie washed the eggs slowly.  “You said that I had two assignments?  I suppose that I should do those before morning is over
?”

“Oh!  Thank you for reminding me.  Yes. When you’re done with those eggs, we can go upstairs and I can show you where to find the best clothes.  And then perhaps I’ll go out and do a little trading and give you some more time to yourself. Would you like that?”

“I…. I think I would be a little confused by that.  But I would not dislike it, sir.” She finished the eggs and set them on a tea towel that appeared next to the sink.  “Thank you, House. so
 five outfits?” Continue reading →