Master List

I'm doing a MASTER LIST so I can keep track of what I post and everything’s findable
world domination shall yet be mine!!!!

First off, if you’ve wandered here lost; sit down, feel welcome, grab a cuppa.

Fiction posted here is slash m/m, anything else is labelled.
The majority of these stories are fluffy, endings are always happy, the only warning I give is for smut.

There is a seperate Master List for stories set in the Lustful Liaisons verse, prompt lists - These are detailed below.

I love comments, really I do.  It's never too late to comment.  If you don’t like something tell me why.  If you’ve nothing to say post a smiley; it makes me feel loved...

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Fae Tree - part 1

There was a very fancy tree by his door.  Again.  He'd had a couple of neighbours admire it, which was great, except... Well he'd not actually bought a tree this year, had never done real ones, the tatty artifical one was still stuffed in it's box, covered with a years layer of dust and various misplaced detrie in the box room.  This tree really was magnificent, the base appeared to be eotic moss then a wrap of gilt baubles swirled around it the top half more traditional pine needles. Smelt glorious: damp walks through ancient woods with tall trees and crunching leaves underfoot, fresh streams gurgling gleefully by; fresh, dark, permenance and nostalgia.  Escape.  Much of his work week was cold technology, blinking screens and cheap coffee left to stand too long.  This decadence had allure.  

But it wasn't for him.  This year he was swearing of the gimmicky commercial trappings and leaving Christmas in it's dusty room.  Maybe if he was lucky Christmas and the rest of the world would leave him be too.  The year had tested him and he felt he'd just scraped through; he'd raise a glass or bottle at New Year, open the back door for old Yule to clomp out and pooh on the straggly flower beds.  Then go to bed, wake to the kiss of youthful Spirit and hope to feel the New Year joy.  He felt very tired.  Constantly.  He stopped lingering by the intruding tree.  Unlocked his door.  Went in. Closed and locked the door behind him.  Shut off the memories.  The house had a chill though warm compared to outdoors, heating just gearing up not yet in tune with the weather.  Toeing off his boots at the doorway he noticed the thin patches on his socks had developed into holes.  Socks were such an underrated Christmas present.  Or he was getting old.  The living room looked cosy, if unfestive, deep coloured furnishings framed a decent fireplace with a worn but welcoming rug.  Old Yule farted in sum up of the day so far, too early yet for young Spirit to stir.

'Hey Markus' Mrs Weingarten juggled her bags to give a cheery wave and Markus laughed with her as they started to tumble, he left his garden to help her collect shiny parcels and rearrange her grip. 'Thanks love, you keep that silvery one, save me delivering later' she winked and he gave her a wary look as he thanked her.  It looked innocuous, a rectangular box wrapped in silver star scattered paper with a big bow, but while she was a lovely and a great neighbour to have, her sense of humour could cause some violent blushes!
'Thanks Mrs W, I'm late writing my cards this year' full disclosure they were still in the shop.
'That's ok lovely, you look after yourself, far more important' her lips narrowed in their smile and Markus's eyes prickled, he had good neighbours and really should buy some cards at the very least.  At this rate he was going turn into a fuzzy green Grinch.  Speaking of green...
'I love your Christmas tree by the way, so fancy' Mrs Weingarten recovered her good cheer, her nose was a little red from the cold or allergies, it was a very seasonal look 'Are you leaving it outside?  It's very fancy, makes me think of a grand Fae seeking enterance, seeking to be let in; steal your socks, scare your pets and drink your milk..' Her voice trailed off and Markus wondered if he should check a certain site for some tree fae porn later this evening.  Or if it was safer not too.
'I um' he looked back at his house.  The tree looked a little forlorn but seemed to fluff out and preen under their eyes.  It was an illusion caused by the wind of course.  But still...
When he turned back Mrs Weingarten was studying him with a kind smile, I'd best be getting this lot delivered, you take care Markus and remember there'll be plenty food around Christmas day if you want to call by, take a plate home if the kiddies are too much for you' her grandkids were cheeky little characters that could overwhelm if allowed to.
'Thanks, that's kind of you, be careful with those parcels' Markus saluted and after a few more well wishes continued to the shop, he grabbed some festive dog chews from the basket along with his milk, then a chocolate bar from the counter.  Three more people complimented his Christmas tree before he got home.  The little grandkid of -that lady who knew his mother- told him it looked sad but was quickly hushed and told how glamourous it looked.  He smiled and nodded politely while trying and failing to remember her name.

It was no distance but Markus's hands were cold by when he got home, he put his purchases on the step so he could dig his keys out of his pocket, pausing as he let go of the milk 'not for you' he told the trespassing tree.  A sudden wind made the branches ruffle in answer.  He leaned on the door jam after scooping up his things and caught himself examining Mrs W's gift.  He had nowhere to put it.  Markus stared at the tree.  Felt it watch him back.  He had several hours at the computer to get through before the chance to snuggle by the fire and start his new book.  The Pine airfreshner lurking under the sink smelt chemical and gave him a headache if used too generously.

'Ok' Markus closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  He blamed Mrs Weingarten for this.  Woman was incorrigible.  'You can come in, this is me inviting you' he opened his eyes, nothing had changed.  The tree stood tall and still, impressive but as inanimate as ever.  Not even a speaking breeze.  'There's conditions though, you can help yourself to the milk' he held the bottle up 'and any socks you want, most have holes in them anyway' that came out on a tired sigh, another little defeat, he firmed his voice and stance 'but if you scare my pets, I'll use you for firewood.  Even if it'll mean buying an axe' he thought about it some more 'and it'd have to be an outdoor fire because the house one is gas.  But I'll do it.  Don't doubt that.  You don't mess with my pets'.  Nothing happened.  The morning's quiet was broken by the sound of a car horn and Seagulls squabbling over some find.  Markus went indoors.

Hitting send was undramatic.  There should be a claxon sound, confetti from the ceiling, cheers and joy.  He felt tired.  His back ached.  His coffee had stagnated.  He couldn't remember eating and rubbing a hand over his belly didn't stop it's grumble.  Shower first.  He'd sent off enough to give himself a few days grace in which to ignore all the Christmas happening around him.

'I'll do us food in a minute, just grabbing a shower' he called, taking a gulp of the cold coffee when his voice came out rusty.  It wasn't pleasant.  The shower was heaven, or close to.  Markus lingered under the hot spray letting it ease his cramped muscles, then pulled on soft house clothes while still a little damp.  He'd lost some weight, looked tired, and his hair was long enough to fall all over the place.  Markus stuck his tongue out at his reflection, no surprise his reflection echoed the slight.

Dinner bowls hitting the floor got no response.  This was not the norm.  A worried head around the door showed his pets were blissfully asleep, a loud snore coming from the heap of blankets under the tree, and a twitching tail showing the other furry menace.

Under the......tree!

The tree was now in the corner of his living room, some space/time conundrum because it was too big to get through his door and he'd have sworn it wouldn't fit in that corner.  It's baubles had an extra shine to them and it looked smug.  Can trees even look smug?  Well it radiated smugness like a tactical entity.  'Smug' Markus decided, was definitely apt.  Welcome' he muttered, after several blinks a mild sense of panic and the thought he should call Mrs W.  The dogs looked supremely unbothered hy this new addition to the room 'kindling' he warned, before going back to the kitchen to grab his own food.

The evening was calm.  Markus read and enjoyed his book, the dogs woke and gobbled their food down with plenty of enthusiasm, then went out back to do their business with far less enthusiasm on encountering the cold.  The tree didn't seem to bother them.  It didn't do anything strange.  In fact it didn't so anything at all.  Just sat there,  looking opulant and ...smug.  He hesitated putting the light out that night but then laughed at himself, the tree had gotten in the house unaided, without a rustle he was pretty sure it didn't need a nightlight. 'So ...er goodnight then?' He nodded at the large fancy Christmas tree feeling a complete idiot and decisively turned the lights off, pulled the door from habit and went to bed.  The dogs led the way, Yule landing on the bed with a deep sigh and th epuppy needing to be lifted up.

In the morning Markus found his sock draw more organised than he'd ever seen it, though every neatly folded 'pair' was mismatch and the holed and stripey ones were missing.  At breakfast he found half his milk gone.  A glance down at beseaching doggy eyes meant he lost half his toast too, but his boys were both fine.

The living room looked a bit more welcoming somehow, brighter today, more polished.  The tree unmoved, unchanged and the smell glorious.  Come to think of it Markus had left a mug in the sink last night and today it had been washed and out away, he stopped the urge to go check.  About to say thankyou Markus remembered fairy tales from childhood - leave a saucer of milk but never thank the fae.  He nodded instead needing to acknowledge the tree somehow 'I'll buy more milk later' he promised, then booted up to take the dogs for a long walk.  Old Yule was slowing down but still loved a good zoom about, Young Spirit ran headlong into the mud, had to be pulled out and carried home.

The three of them had showers before Markus went for more milk.  He spotted Mrs Weingarten busy typing in her office and fave her a wave as he passed.  She seemed distracted but happy.  It was good not to have to turn his own computer on today.  Markus ignored his study, pulled on some warm socks then warmed some milk, placing a chocolate bar on the table next to his mug ready for dunking and melting.  Then he left the room to gather the book he'd left by his bed.  When he got back most of the milk and half the chocolate bar was gone.

'I'd believe it of the dogs they're no angels, but no way they'd leave half the chocolate' he gathered the mug with a sigh and turned to go refill it.
'Well you could have made me one' a voice accused 'that big dog threatened to pee on me, and the little one tried chewing my branches.  Didn't hear you threaten them with an axe'

Markus turned slowly.  There was still a tree in the corner but it smaller, undecorated.  In front of it stood a man.  About the same height as him, medium build, unremarkable worn jeans that fit him rather well, cotton shirt open at the neck.  There was something ageless about him as he stood staring but then he grinned with such pure mischief it ruined the effect.  Sparkling hazel eyes laughed at him 'soooo milk?' was asked hopefully.  Markus watched as he dragged a hand through dark hair that had the hint of moss green under the light.  'Milk' Markus agreed, leading the way to the kitchen.

Quick ficlet

A charis prompt of two Peacocks, a white one hovering over an unimpressed coloured one.  can't get pic to share.

Harold glared at the annoying humans, watching them take his photo.  Yes of course he was magnificant, he ruffled his feathers to give them a thrill; just a little tease though, they weren't getting full glorious plumage.  Not with the hangover he was nursing!
'arrrrrrrrrgggghhhhhhh' one extrememly silly human dropped her camera and fled backwards making choking sounds.  It was quite dramatic and alarming, did nothing good for his throbbing headache.  Harold gave her a judging look shaking the filoplume feathers of his crest in indignation.

The other humans were now snapping away in a frenzy, he had a sudden deep suspicion why.
'woooooo oooooo boooooo'

The humans of course would hear a high pitched mew, Harold however heard a bad idea wake up.  He turned to confirm his nightmare.  A ghostly white form hovering just above him, immaculate feathers trailing for best effect.
'I am your escaping soul' the form hissed.

'Nigel you're not funny, there's nothing ghostly about you and my soul is not that pure, we proved that last night!'
'I however am as innocent and pure as snow' his self proclaimed soul announced, while angling for better photo ops.
'Not after where your tongue went mate, you're as pure as yellow snow, and that is not my idea of fun' Harold told him primly.
'soul... mate?' Nigel tried, fluttering closer.

Harold considered the ridiculous creature, his headache seemed to be fading and he was remembering a damn good night.
'Lets loose the crowd and feathers, see if you're good for another round?' He strolled off with a shake of his tail feathers and Nigel was close behind.

Summoning Lessons

For Charisstoma, same prompt but with demons and p0rn.

'Be strong, be strong' imploring the WiFi was doing nothing to raise the bars on the little indicator, the laptop image stuttered then froze.  Not a bad image to freeze on, but a total cock tease, right before the big brawny Demon bared his giant knobbly cock and demanded the quivering neophyte got to work - which he did, eagerly.  This was a favourite vid.

Warren groaned, then swore throwing hiw tube of lube across the room, which, might not be his best of reactions.  He wasn't done with that yet.  Stomping across to collect it, flushed cock bobbing with each step Warren considered the spell book it landed on.  There had to be some benefit to being an apprentice Wizard at an acclaimed university linked to a Demon university, didn't there?  At least a simple spell to extend the shoddy WiFi long enough for him to get some well earned stress relief!

So far Warren's experiments with spells had proved variable, lots of raw power his instructors said, not enough focus though they chided.  Warren was very focused on getting off right now.  'Gift me giant knobbly demon cock' he beseached not noticing that his lube and pre-cum coated hand brushed over the heavy metal sigil inlayed in the cover.  He decided against a spell 'just you and me he told his cock giving it a reassuring tug, then fell over as there was a hot blast of flame, sudden thunder and the smell of brimstone.

Demon stood in his room.

He looked a young demon, though Warren sure you could tell.  His skin the colour of rust and looked hewn from rock, all smooth flat plains and muscled ridges.  Warren could tell this because the Demon was naked, including his.....oh that was a very nice cock, long, thick, knobbly; looked like a special edition order from Lustful Liasons, the type of toy sadly beyond his price range.  Warren licked his lips.

'Aren't you going to quiver in fear?' the Demon asked sounding resigned, his voice was deep gravelly and promised long, hard, dirty nights.
'Hmm?' Warren dragged his eyes from the glorious cock, up over the sculptured torso, the chest that heaved with a sigh, broad, broad shoulders, thick neck and....he was a very handsome Demon.  Not all were.  The fire shot eyes would put some people off, but Warren found them fascinating.

'Sorry, I missed that?'
'Screaming, quivering in fear?  Isn't that what you Wizardlings do?'
Warren managed to think on that.  'Oh has Chad summoned you?  Room 112?  He's a bit jumpy' Warren rolled his eyes, Chad would have no idea what to do with a naked Demon, he, Warren had plenty of ideas!
'I could quiver a bit if you want?' he offered helpfully, he had every intention of getting to the screaming bit very soon indeed.

'Nooo' grumbled the Demon.  Getting stuck on the rota for bored first year Wizard summonings had proven a headache so far.  Lots of stammering, screaming, warding off - nothing effective of course but it stung a little and he had to roar and preform a little before leaving, it was in the brief.  His professor was a known sadist.  He should probably have remembered that.

'So, I summoned you, they say if you fall into hell, or I guess if hell materialises in your dorm room - keep going'. Warren licked his lips, you couldn't blame him if his eyes had fallen back to that cock, was it even erect?  was it that size resting?  Oh my, it would be exquisite agony and sign him up to find out.

'I the feared demon Hellcoxkin' not his full name of course, that'd be stupid 'demand restitution'. This is where he usually let his powers surge a bit and the wizardling screamed and fainted.  It had had happened five times tonight, three of those times were room 112.

This wizardling gave a happy sigh.  Happy?  'I Wizard-to-be Warren accept my fate and am prepared' this was like the best dream ever.  Every dirty fantasy rolled into one...except that weird half asleep one where he kept loosing his shoes and was probably drunk!

Which is how Hellcoxkin found himself being climbed by an eager Wizardling and grabbing the lithe squirming figure before it could sink onto his cock.  This was not how he'd expected the evening to go.  A brush of finger proved Warren Wizard-to-be was indeed slick and prepared, but it was a lot of giant knobbly cock for a tight wizardling arse to take.  They'd be doing do this Hellcoxkin's way.

'Yes' gasped Warren digging strong fingers into those broad shoulders and clamouring to wrap legs around wide hips 'punish me, punish me long and hard all night, I can take it' he paused as just the tip or the demon's cock breached his hole.  Oh wow, this was going to be brutal.  Hellcoxkin was gripping his hips easily holding him still, Warren thought he felt the tip of claws and couldn't help a shiver.  The Demon's growl reverborated right through him and Warren feared his cock would explode before the even got to the good stuff.

'I'm going to plough your arse, fill your mouth with my seed, then take you again'. They both watched the dribble of pre-cum pearl at the end of Warren's cock, Hellcoxkin snarled and if you cum before I say we'll do this every night until you learn your lesson' it was a bit brash a threat but Hellcoxkin was finding control hard when he held an eager Wizardling poised on the tip of his dick.  This Warren was proving novel, the tight ring of muscle gripping the first bump of his cock had Hellcoxkin want to expand, fill the tight arse full and trap him there until they were both spent.  He eased his grip and Warren who'd been squeasing with his legs desperate for more, sunk down fully on his cock, faster than expected, his eyes rolled back in his head and a loud groan escaped his now panting lips 'Urrrrrrrrrrggggggh'. Oh that was good.  Hellcoxkin was going to mark this Wizardling for special attention.  

Warren, Warren was going to be having busy nights and a sore arse.  He'd look good wearing Hellcoxkn's mark.  The thought shook Hellcoxkin who'd never given much thought to bonding with a wizard, finding most annoying.  He pulled his wizard up off his cock, slowly, feeling each bump of his cock release the tight sucking grip, Warren went frantic, digging in with fingers and heels 'please, please, please' oh he bleated so nicely.  He parted the soft checks of his wizards arse teasing the stretched skin before changing his grip to pull Warren, his Warren back down and fill him.  Hellcoxkin's grin growing feral as his little wizard gasped, back arching and a hot fountain of cum spurted between them, high enough he licked his lips and got a taste of his Warren's spend.  He savoured the flavour, grinning slow 'I warned you' he reminded the dazed Wizard sitting loose and pliable on his cock.  His passage still tight but no longer greedy.  He lowed his head and stuck out a long tongue to rasp a pert nipple getting a shiver for his efforts.

Warren blinked at the Demon.  Hellcoxkin had one hell of a cock, it was still hard and hot, filling him completely, branding him from the inside out, he thought somewhat manically that he'd forever hunger for Demon cock from now on, there was going to be no seconding this.  He tried to focus on what Hellcoxkin was saying, but it was difficult, his body felt strung out, needing release from the blunt invasion filling him so full, but rebelling at the hollow empty feeling when he pulled out.  Was it growing?  He'd swear it was swelling inside him!

'EVERY NIGHT UNTIL YOU LEARN' Roared Hellcoxkin punctuating every word with a jolt of his hips.  And 'yes, Oh YES' Warren remembered the promise, threat/promise? He didn't care, slipping into the expected screaming part of the night as Hellcoxkin started to fuck him in earnest, manipulating his quaking body with ease until cum trickled a steady stream between them and all sanity was lost.

Well that was unexpected.  Hellcoxkin lowered his exhausted companion onto the bed, such a stupid flimsy thing, Demons knew to have large sturdy platforms!  A pretty little wizardling who'd preformed beautifully, chasing every release with no self-preservation, Hellcoxkin had every intention of making good his threat and bending the Wizard every way, ploughing his arse until it ached with emptiness when he wasn't there.  He sprawled out completely spent, skin still flushed and delicately bruised from Hellcoxkin's hands and mouth, nipples a rosy pink.  Cum glistening over his chest and the lips that were parted sweetly in sleep.  For a moment Hellcoxkin imagined sliding his cock over that soft pouting lower lip seeing if his Wizard wanted another taste, a slow easy slide of flesh and a lazy release he'd taste through out the day.  But then Hellcoxkin remembered he, had another night, more nights to come, and cum they would.

The professor was waiting when Hellcoxkin returned, lounging against a wall near the summoning point looking amused.  He gave a Hellcoxkin a slow thorough appraisal commenting only 'there were comments about the noise' then as he turned his back and swept away 'well done'


Several weeks later, where Warren's magical energies were surging but his focus remained deplorable, he was known to sometimes limp and occasionally fell asleep in class.  Warren had his Demon flat out on the new sturdier bed that had appeared in his dorm room and was enthusiastically riding his Demon's giant cock while Hellcoxkin groaned, twisted Warren's nipples and uttered threats, filthy praise and encouragement.  A brief sharp knock announced the Chief Wizard who controlled the first years, not that either lover heard it.  The noteable Wizard entering unheeded took a few moments to enjoy the view before interrupting them.  A magically enhanced throat clearing stopped all activity, Demon hands gripping busy hips to slow them.  They all three watched the beading cum pearl on Warren's throbbing cock, Chief Wizard was quite impressed with the young Wizard's quivering control, he knew what havock a Demon cock could do.

'This situation has gone on long enough' he announced sharply.  'We're having to re-room neighbouring Wizards and my equal is complaining about a bout of clumsy summoning attempts.  I fear poor Chad in 112 will fail this year'. Warren bit his lip, which could have been rightful worry at these words, but could also be the very slight roll of demo hips, many of them liked an audience.

'We've decided relocation will be necessary, Warren you'll be transfered to the demon realm forthwith'. He considered his lofty statement then decided to be kind 'you can finish what you're doing first, but don't delay!'

Hellcoxkin's finger was stroking the length of Warren's cock and bringing the escaped pearl to his lips, Warren shuddering, arching his back, throwing his head back to keen and cumming wildly, even before the Chief Wizard had turned to leave the room.

'That worked out rather nicely' a smug voice greeted him as he closed the door.  'yes' he agreed with his Demon professorial equal, 'but let's not play with the WiFi signal again the paper work is dreadful' then he smiled glancing out a narrow window at the sky and there's still time for dessert?' He offered, leading the way back to his domain.

Drunken Princess

inresponse to another charistomma plunny:

'Be strong, be strong' I whisper to my wifi, relatively sure this is a hot spot.
'Is there a reason you're talking to a lampost?' the dry far too loud voice comes from nowhere and it's perfectly acceptable to flail, squeak and fall against said lampost.  Not that that's what I do!  As I rightly tell the voice 'i didn't squeak' I also pat the lampost and whisper thanks for the save.  That's just polite.
'Uh-huh' the voice from the dark doesn't sound convinced, I gear up to argue the point, but er, what was the point again?'

'Shoes?' asks the voice, which makes no bloody sense, what about shoes?  Shoes are great, I love shoes, but it's late o'clock and we're in the middle of a dark lonely street, in the dark, what have shoes got to do with anything?  I squint in the direction of the voice but it's a vague form.  A nice blurry dark form, kinda broad, the sort of figure you could burrow into for a really good snuggle. 'I like snuggles' I declare brightely.  For some reason this is greeted with a heavy sigh.  The sigh is heavy.

'Shoes?' He repeats.  'shoooooooeees' I sing, finally getting it.  It's late o'clock, probably late enough to be early o'clock now, somewhere down the road from the greatest club ever, where i was a big hit I must most modestly acknowledge!  The voice must be drunk.  The person connected to the voice obviously, voices don't get drunk.  Wanting to be helpful I tell the voice this 'Voices don't get drunk'
'No?' I think that was a laugh, I'm not sure what's funny but I laugh along to be polite, because he's drunk, so there doesn't need to be a reason.  Besides I'm very polite, always ever so polite, it's a fault.  Or maybe a virtue.  Virtue is overrated.

'Virtue is overrated' I tell the drunken voice sadly.  Drunken person.  Person, not voice.  Person with a voice.  It's a nice voice.  'I like your voice' I tell the voice 'it's lovely' it's kinda familiar, sounds like my flatmate atually, but then I every voice, every thing, reminds me of my flatmate.  He's lovely.  My flatmate that is.  I'm not sure if I tell drunken voice that but he sighs.  'Awww are you tired?  you sound tired?  you should go home, snuggle up, I bet you have someone to snuggle, snuggles are nice'  My flatmate has no interest in snuggling me, if he did I'd climb him like a tree and hold on for dear life.  I don't tell the voice that.  I don't tell anyone that.  Polite to a fault me.

'What happened to your shoes?  You're barefoot'
'Oh' I peer down and wiggle my scarlet toes experimentally, cooey little toesies.  'So I am' I agree all serious 'Like Cinderella fleeing the ball at Midnight'
'Kay, it's long past midnight and this is not a fairytale, you're drunk'

'I'm drunk?'  I have to think about this,  there'd been the show, such a great show, then the bar and everyone was so lovely, I had a cocktail bought me all sparkle with an umbrella, then there was a sour shot, then something sweet sweet to take the taste away, I like sweet things so I had another of those, and, and 'oooooo I think you're right!  I'm drunk!'  'Wait, does this mean we're both drunk?'
'I'm not drunk Kay, I'm the one trying to walk you home, the flat, where you live remember?'
'You're no Prince bloody Charming' I feel cheated.
'And you're not Cinderella, just an annoying, very drunk Kay'

We tred, trod? hobble?  We hobble a few steps, well I do while my non charming hero guides me, which is nowhere near as romantic as my poor bruised heart desires,  gravel paths are not good for stockinged feet, let me tell you.
'Ow, ouch, ow' my protests fall on deaf ears 'this is hell'
'If you find yourself walking through hell...KEEP BLODDY GOING'
I don't think that's quite the quote but the world is lurching about so I don't argue.  i'm suddenly staring at a butt.  It's a very nice butt, biteable, I wish I wasn't so polite.  'Hi butt' I try.  It flexes delishously.  I feel a little queasy but put that aside wondering why the world looks so funny and bumpy, I'm smart so figure in no time I'm being carried 'nice butt' I sigh.
Hearing a tired chuckle and 'thanks' from somewhere up high.

'Morning' someone sounds amused, that dry sardonic amusement really cool people can pull off, are people still cool?  there's probably another word now, I'm old, so old and possibly dying.  'Argggh' thoughts hurt.

'You're alive then?'  It takes me a minute to unstick my eyelids and blink in the view of my bedroom.  My pillow is strangely warm, and moving'
Oh.  Flatmate, hot flatmate.  'Hi?' seems weak, but the memories flooding back burn a path across my skin.  The curse of being fair.  I've seen him blush once, with the bronze of his skin he just looked more attractive, damn him.  I turn into a walking blotchy beetroot.  Hello Halloween.

'you ok there' his voice is softer tha I've heard before, and a hand gentle on my head, so good! I lean into it and debate purring, alchol not quite burnt off.  He really is great for snuggles.  'I like snuggles' I hear my own dejected voice whisper, in total betrayal of me.

'Yeah you told me' he laughes, he has a lovely laugh, kind.  Not kind to my pounding head.  I snuggle back into his chest avoiding thought, it makes a nice pillow and he doesn't seem to mind. 'Tell you what Princess, lets get you showered, fed and sober.  Then we'll talk about snuggles'

If you go into the Woods - extra

'Mason, Mason' the voice teased him, carried on the wind that caressed his bare skin.  This was freedom, stripping of tension with the layers and breathing deep.  And, at the edge of any Wood, 'Mason, I can see you Mason' that voice, musical whimsy, aleady brimming with smug satisfaction.

Somehow a nights dancing had become a regular jaunt.  A drug and obsession.  Stories told that learning a Fae name gave you power over them, the ability to call on them.  Mason suspected a Fae learning your name meant the control was theirs.  He couldn't seem to care.

A weekend once a month had become fortnightly, now he set out every weekend for at least one night.  His muscles were bulking up from the exercise.  Both the hiking and the other pursuits left their marks.

'Mason' there he was, impatient now and no longer hiding.  Dressed only in velvet shadows that slid over silken skin when he stepped from the trees.

'Hello you' Mason grinned, every time was a treat.  There was always that nagging wonder if this was the last time, if next time the wind would be silent and he'd have only his camp fire to warm him.

'Dawn' said his secret lover, staring at him with a bitten lip, oddly poised and no longer smiling.
'Dawn?' Mason feared a deadline.
'Dawn Averey Faye.  My names.  Pleased to meet you Mason' Dawn Averey Faye sketched a courtly half bow and Mason felt the smile break over his face at the trust.
'Dawn' he said it with reverence 'Dawn Averey Faye, does this mean what I think it does?'
'That you may call on me and I claim you as mine?' Dawn nodded then grinned, a flash of sharp white teeth and devilment 'I have every intention of claiming you human, starting right now'
He pounced sending them both to the ground.
'I can live with that' chuckled Mason battling the hungry mouth for deep kisses

If you go into the Woods - complete

Just a quick bit of fluff - complete (and slight altered from the teaser)


Naturalists have got to be one of the groups of people most susceptible to being tricked by the fae. Travelers these days are much less likely to follow a mysterious light or the smell of roast beef into the forest.
Meanwhile, find me a naturalist who would not completely lose themself in pursuit of:
- An unidentified bird call
- A butterfly that's slightly off-color
- An opossum with its head stuck in a yogurt tub
- A really big woodpecker

Reply- gallusrostromegalus-

The Fae better be fuckin ready to be tagged and fitted with a radio collar for Science then, I've got new hiking boots and no other ideas for research grant money.

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Ok, there was definitely someone in the bushes. Mason ran a tired hand over his face, scratching his beard, it was leaning more towards wild-man than hipster chic but that was the appeal of this place; it was supposed to be deserted. There'd been a strange light earlier and a random hiker wasn't unheard of, but Mason had picked a heavily wooded area right off the beaten track, not for the faint hearted. The bushes moved again, he'd heard some odd bird calls earlier but this was too big for the local wildlife. Checking the fire was safe Mason stretched nonchantly and huffed under his breath when the bushes stilled. Yep he had a peeper!

'I know you're there, you might as well come out into the open' he called dryly, his voice a little gruff from disuse. The foliage shook a little and branches moved, he couldn't see the person but they weren't hiding they were there.
'It's a cold night, you might as well share the fire' he swear the bushes were sulking.

'You could come to me, I could make you roast beef?' a musical male voice enticed, he sounded young and a little dejected. The offer made as much sense as anything else this night.
'I'm ok with my bangers here' Mason eyed his sizzling sausages, he'd dragged enough rocks together to make a decent surround for a fire, there was no risk of a blaze. 'Out of milk but got some coffee you can have?'
'You'd have offered me milk?'
Ok, something was really odd here. That was almost a wail. The bushes shook angrily then a tall slender man stepped free of them. He was all woodland colours, hard to see in the fading light. But there was a something bulky strapped to one ankle that threw of his shape. Mason caught a better look when he stomped nearer the fire, some kind of tracking device? Wild gesturing arms claimed his attention. His peeper was not happy.

Silence with a muleish expession and hands on hips.
'Try again slower ok, what's your trauma?'
'THIS' was shouted with more wild gesturing and a lifted foot. Mason caught his intruder before he toppled into the fire. He had a brief hold on a lithe form with a close up of startlingly pale eyes. Icy fury.
'Relax mate, what are you getting so excited about'
'I HATE you NATURALIST FREAKS' was screamed 'I bet that Opossum was in on it!'
'In on what? Want to try telling me what's going on?' Mason really hoped camera men weren't going to burst out of the wood next, because he wasn't promising not to punch first, question later!

'Like you need to be told! You naturalist freaks, thinking you can play us at our own game, tag us like a domesticated...' he waved his hands about then sunk to sit by the fire, resting his head on his raised knees. 'I wasn't going to do any harm, just a little fun' he whimpered 'now I can never show my face, can't go anywhere' his body shook though any tears were silent and more worrying for it. His eyes swam with oceans when he raised his head agile fingers pushing hair behind a pointed ear. Pointed ear? Mason shook his head roughly, the night was getting to him.

'Look I'm not a Naturalist, I'm a Carpenter by trade, why would you think I am?'
'Carpenter? A Woodcrafter?' his guest looked curious 'but you're wearing boots?'
'Er...' Mason glanced down at his well worn hiking boots then back at his guest. 'We're in a Wood, there's pine needles and rocks. His still felt the weight of that pale gaze.
'You might have noticed the boots are all I'm wearing?' he waited as eyes brushed over him almost a physical touch.

'I noticed' was offered primly 'Big WoodPeckers are a very good lure. You have very nice wood mister. But I'm not following you into the Woods, I can't anyway with this' the device was pushed towards Mason.
'O-kay' Mason tried slowly 'the point I was making was' what was it again? 'the point I was making was I'm not a Naturalist, I'm a Naturist. Not the same thing'
'Naturist' the word was tried out and understanding dawned 'you mean you liked to dance skyclad in the Woods?'
'Well, I'm not much of a dancer' Mason owned.
'Get this THING off me and I could teach you?' the promise spoke of wild nights, heat and ice, freedom and chains. But it was the eyes that convinced him, sad and daring to hope.
'It's a simple strap' he gripped it.
'Iron buckle' was muttered.

Mason opened the buckle.

The fire went out but the night remained burning hot. Fae wood proved to be long and slender and taste of sweet temptation. Hands soft but strong. Body eager. If this was a death dance Mason wasn't sure he minded as he gave in, drove forward, revelled in the dance. Breathy cries and exaltation.

Dawn broke painting the world a rosy glow, the Woods awoke with chirp and song. Mason stood stepping outside his tent stretched wide, he ached all over in a satisfied well used way. But there was no sign of his guest. 'Didn't even get a name' he huffed.

'And you wont either' came from around the tent. His lover of the night bringing kindling for a fresh fire. Mason felt an odd stirring of pride to see marks on smooth tan skin, left by his own mouth. He was fairly sure he sported his own bruises of passion.
'You'll not own me' he was was chided, then a casual 'but I may stick around awhile, try again before I buy' he winked.

If you go into the Woods

Hmm can't copy prompt [personal profile] charisstoma, but here's the first paragraph:

Ok, there was definitely someone in the bushes. Mason ran a tired hand over his face, scratching his beard, it was leaning more towards wild-man that hipster chic but that was the appeal of this place; it was supposed to be quiet. There'd been a strange light earlier and a random hiker wasn't unheard of, but Mason had picked a heavily wooded area right off the beaten track, not for the faint hearted. The bushes moved again, it was too big for the local wildlife and not many animals lay claim to the bright blue eyes he'd glimsed when his fire sparked. Checking the fire was safe Mason stretched nonchantly and huffed under his breath when the bushes stilled. Yep he had a peeper!

The Doorway - complete fic

[personal profile] charisstoma another plunny bite, I have plastered on cream and plan to avoid any further ones!

'Going through?' the query came from shadows that hadn't been there a moment ago on this bright summer day. Male, young, a bit of a taunt. 'Takes you to a better place'. Sardonic. Mike couldn't tell if the voice was laughing at the idea, or at him.

What is one to think about a big fancy doorway in the middle of a field and a voice coming from nowhere. As if hearing that thought the speaker stepped out of the trees, a lithe figure with sharp eyes and whimsical smile. Beyond that Mike couldn't describe him, there was still something indistinct about him.

'If only' Mike stared back, challenging. He faced enough mockery and this walk, this escape to the coutryside was his sanctuary so how dare anyone taint that. It was a nice dream; step through to a better place. Where he was no longer the odd kid, the gay son his parents didn't want, too shy to be interesting, too different to fit in. He turned around and made his way home.

Mike dreamt about the doorway that night, in his dream the door stood open, the fields beyond full of waving flowers, a sun that warmed the ground and filled the air with heady perfume. There was laughter and a sense of welcome, a feeling of excitement that stayed with him when he woke. He was loved in his dream, just beyond that doorway someone waited for him.

College was the same ole, same ole. Mike kept his head down and bustled to his lectures. His mother has smiled at him this morning, it had lacked that worried confused look that crossed her face ever since he came out. His father had already left for work. There were to be exchange students from some linked campus and there was a load of paperwork about working together and wlcoming the newcomers. Group projects blah, blah, blah. He glanced around the room, noone seemed that excited by the idea.

His evening stroll lead him back along the woods, across the stream and through the trees bordering the farmland. This field was still unattended, long grass blowing and a crumbling rock wall marking a forgotten boundary. The doorway rose magestically from the weeds. Faded glory, a relic of a fancier time, some large house Mike didn't know of. While the paint was weathering away the panes in the door were intact, bevelled glass to thick to peek through.

A figure lounged beside it, in the open though shadows clung to him. He bit into an apple as Mike approached, waved it at him with a chuckle 'Can I tempt you, young wanderer? Take a bite, step through the door'

Mike ignored him. This time he walked right around the door, there were some nettles to be wary of but it was possible. Remarkable only for the incongruity. No trace other trace of what building had stood here. He'd have asked his parents if he thought they'd look at him without sad faces. Back at the outter side of the door he had the strangest urge to knock, if the other figure wasn't still there watching him so intently he might have chanced it. While not a horror movie buff he thought it would be ill adviced.

He stepped back and glanced at the other guy, he seemed serious and gave a rough salute. Mike nodded at him and left without speaking.

There was music in his dream, a lilting sound that wavered on the wind. Implaceable. Gentle, taunting, haunting. The door creaked open and arms awaited him, he knew he'd be welcomed, that he had a place and could belong there.

His father was at the breakfast table when he got there. He grunted at Mike but didn't speak. Never a morning person, Mike reminded himself, hurt but trying not to take it personally. They were still his parents, he knew they loved him, just couldn't understand.

The lecture hall was busy. It took him aback before he remembered the exchange students. It had been all they spoke of for weeks so showed how distracted his thoughts had been.

'Hello' a tall boy landed in the chair next to his. A tall lithe figure, he had that enviable air of being comfortable in his skin. Dark hair in a scruffy style that either took hours primping or showed the path of fingers. The guy brushed his hair back and grinned. For a moment there everything was static and Mike felt short of breath, then the moment went.

'Hi' it seemed Mike had gained a project partner. He waited for one of his more social classmates to draw the boy away, but he seemed happy where he was.

'I am Aelfdene' was announced with old world dignity, then the boy grinned 'from the elfen valleys it means, if you're into that sort of thing. Bit of a mouthful though, people call me Dean or Alfie, I prefer Dean' this said with a mock glower. 'And you, will you give me your name?' Aelfdene had a faint accent, it gave his words an interesting lilt.
'Mike, short for Micheal'
'Honoured to meet you Micheal'
'Mike is fine....Alfie'

Aelfdene laughed delighted 'Oh we're going to be firm friends, I can tell' after that they got on with the project notes and chatted easily. Dean -Mike after one further 'Alfie' and a pouty look, changed to calling him Dean- was easy to get along with. They stopped at the van outside for a coffee, fuel of college life after and Mike had the strangest feeling of having known Dean a long time. It was easy.

He didn't go for a walk that evening but the door still starred in his dreams. He thought himself alone this time, but as he stood in the doorway smelling the heavy petrichor beyond he heard his voice echo back to him 'Micheal, Mike'

Mike carried the odd unsettled feeling down to breakfast, it bloomed into full fullboding to see his parents sitting at the table, his mother nursing her mug and his father looking fierce. He went to make toast but they must have been listening for him as the toaster popped and his mother moved to drop the toast on a plate for him, then fuss refilling mugs.

This wasn't good.

Mike buttered his toast with precision and forgo the peanut butter. They spoke as he took his first dry bite. His mother first.
'Mike we've been talking, your dad and I' his dad grunted.
'We can't go on like this'

The words cut deep, slashing at his delicate insides to leave him bleeding out. Nightmares started like this, the type that had stopped him speaking up sooner, telling them who he was. If he wasn't their son, who was he? What did he have? Panic seized him and he heard the whimper drawn from his throat as his heart broke.

'Son' his dad coughed. Then seemed to see him, looking at him properly for the first time in weeks. His voice softened, a gruff man he was never unkind. 'Son'
His mother took his hand , hers warm from her mug, his cold as though they'd never be warm.
'We've been talking' she repeated 'we think we should go to that group, there's one in the community centre, talk this out'

'I can't not be gay' Mike's voice didn't sound like his own.
'We know love' her voice was kind 'but we need to understand, and, well you've always been different to the other kids, sensitive, we need to know you're safe out there' she gestured absently to the big unknown.
'You're our son Mike, we love you' this was his father. They must have really been talking for him to say that!

Turns out they'd already phoned and were greeted by name when they shuffled awkwardly through the door. The man who met them had blue hair and a pierced eyebrow, his t-shirt starred a unicorn. Mike could sense his father tense but his mother gave a determined smile and offered her hand. The man was all professional, though he winked at Mike before leading them to a quiet spot in the hall.

They agreed to go again. Left carrying leaflets. It was humbling to know they cared and were trying. That perhaps part of the barrier between them was one he'd errected, letting fear rule.
'Thank you' he mumbled it before running to his room.

That night the door was closed, Mike stood staring at it seeing the age of the wood and the patina on the metal knocker. He touched it in his dream, but didn't knock and wasn't interupted.

Aelfdene appeared to be waiting for him in college, the weekend hadn't dulled his vigour. Mike was greeted with a shout and eager wave. A few students near laughed and one pushed at Aelfdene, Mike heard some teasing to the effect of 'play it cool Alfie' it seemed friendly and the group all acknowledged him before wandering off to 'leave you lovebirds alone'
'Ignore them, they're just jealous' Aeldene claimed. poking his tongue out at his friends. 'You ok Mike?' he looked at Mike, right at him 'seem a little tired today'
'Been a long weekend'
'No, no good I think'
'You don't seem sure'
'It was good, definitely' he smiled and revelled in Aelfdene's answering smile.
They ended up spending the day together.

That evening needing to clear his head Mike went to the clearing. Stood confronting the door. He was alone for once and feeling bold decided to try it. It creaked open to show the field beyond. Wild flowers dotting colour in the long grass, the sun fading on the closing day.
'You can step through' the voice came from beside him, Mike hadn't heard anyone approach but found he'd been expecting it 'nothing will happen now'

'No magic?' Mike asked.
'The magic isn't needed now' Mike turned and saw without shadows Aelfdene stood beside him. The same friendly smile and tease of something more.
'Was it ever magic?' he asked

'Of course' then his friend grinned 'but this reality is better for you now, and maybe it was you who were tempting someone to a better place all along Michael'

The dreams that night were ...interesting!

Mr Gingernuts - Part Three

They met again before expected.

Bren's walk home interrupted by Seagull party, all bold shouts and cawing voices. He wasn't truely worried but if Zangiber wanted to step forward and play his hero then he was happy to enjoy the moment. It wasn't that dramatic, a simple warning and the suggestion of power rippling among them, the cool evening sparking with heat. The Seagulls sauntered off with a few choice call backs from a safe distance.

After that it was a simple thing to stare adoringly and get invited for a coffee. Zangiber it seemed did not live far. His house was unremarkable, a decent size and well kept. Inside was the magic, shelves lining the walls full of fascinating things. Lovingly carved wooden figures, shiny pebbles and pretty glass. Books stacked in each reach of comfy chairs. The one wall without shelving held a large stone fireplace and baove that a huge painting of an Autumn Wood, the artist's signature a stylized Z. It should have look cluttered, yet the house had a comfy feel, it felt like entering a treasure cave, so many wonderful things to take in. All clearly cared for.

Zanziber was watching his reaction, he gave a pleased smile, looking proudly around himself. 'My hoard' he revealed with a tone of hushed pride.
'Hoard?' Bren took a minute 'Dragon's hoard' He didn't get the feel of an ancient wise lizard, they were reclusive creatures with a flare for the dramatic. Zangiber was more warmth and cosy evenings.

'Mixed blood' Zangiber grinned offering a glimpse of sharp teeth.
'Me too' Bren offered when no more was forthcoming.
'Dragon and Squirrel' Zangiber revealed 'two species that like to gather treasures and protect their hoard. I'm very posessive of what's mine' he stepped closer and the heat in the room rose 'I never share, and I take very good care of what's mine' he licked his lips and it felt like an actual caress.

'Witch and Alchemist' Bren replied. 'Means I mix a mean cookie dough and take no shit from anyone' he grinned 'that sorted, do I get to see your nuts?' he fake leered then laughed along with Zangiber, almost choking when the man took a step forward 'they're ginger' he husked 'think you can handle the spice?'

'Oh try me'

It was along time before they remembered the coffee.