The Road Back Home

The Road Back Home
by Erviniae

Story Notes

Pairing: Azriel /Aleeme

Rating: R

Chapter 1/1

Warning: Angst, memories of rape/pelki

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Storm Constantine. I am just playing with the hara.

Summary: Can one ever go back home after a fall?

Author’s notes: The time is about 3 years after the rescue of Azriel and Aleeme from Fulminir.

The Road Back Home

“No, stop, leave him be, take me…. please…take me…leave him alone…I am Swift’s son, please leave him be, he is innocent…” Azriel cried out, he begged his captor for the release of his chesna. The chains straining against his wrists, biting into his already torn flesh, blood trickling anew down his forearms, to drip upon the filthy floor. A floor soaked with his own blood, urine, feces and vomit. For how long they were kept like this he did not know. Azriel had lost all track of time; for no windows were in this cell he was forced to live in, chained like an animal. The only light that ever shone was that which was brought with the open door, rarely for food or water, though frequent for pelki.

“Shut him up!” yelled Ponclast to his son, Diablo.

Diablo punched Azriel hard in his abdomen, to which he promptly vomited down the front of his already dirtied rag of a shirt.

“Hold his head up, I want him to watch,” sneered Ponclast with hate in his maddened eyes. “If he closes his eyes, cut his sweet chesnari.”

Diablo took out his knife, ready to blindly do his father’s bidding, even as his other hand yanked Azriel’s head up fiercely, so he would be forced to gaze upon the vile act before him. For the briefest of moments, Aleeme looked deeply into his consort’s eyes. ‘I am so sorry,’ spoke Azriel into his chesnari’s mind. Aleeme closed his eyes screaming out at the pain of his soume-lam being roughly penetrated by Ponclast’s ouana-lim. Tears fell unhindered down Azriel’s dirty face, streaking it clean with tears.

Azriel spoke once more into Aleeme’s mind, ‘ Leeme, please, just let him in, create a pearl, then you will have rest.’

A loud sob wracked forth from Aleeme as he let Ponclast invade his cauldron of creation, hot aren mixing with cooling yaloe to form a pearl. Ponclast grunted loudly with his release and pulled out slowly, savoring the moment. “Well done, Aleeme, I do believe you are learning. Take him back to his cell!” yelled Ponclast to Diablo, who immediately did as he was told, pulling Aleeme up by his hair. Aleeme cried out, he was weak and in much the same state that Azriel was in. Quickly, Aleeme found Azriel’s eyes once more, though the gaze was haunted now and Aleeme was gone, replaced by a blankness that made Azriel whimper. Desperately trying to contact his chesnari through mind touch, he was met with only blackness; Aleeme was gone. Azriel growled at the treatment to his consort, straining more at his bonds, to which Diablo laughed and in an instant they disappeared to wherever Aleeme was being held.

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This Is Not a Fairy Tale

This is Not a Fairy Tale
by Em

Story Notes

Author contact:

Summary: Against the backdrop of events following The Shades of Time and Memory, two long separated hara find their own way of reconnecting.

Characters: Ashmael, Vaysh, Cal, Pellaz, Loki

Spoilers: Up to and including The Shades of Time and Memory.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer; All items contained on these pages are non-profit amateur fiction. The Wraeththu novels and all characters named in those books are the copyright of Storm Constantine and her publishers.
No infringement on the copyrights is intended


A door slammed and a body was shoved roughly against it. Inside the small room two hara embraced frantically, pressing closer even than the limited space required. Hands slid across silk and exposed skin, caressing, gripping; fingers digging in sharply. Breath mingled, blending as lips pressed together seeking to taste and consume one another.

The taller of the two lifted the other against him and was rewarded with slim legs encircling his hips. He paused for a moment, enjoying the sound of his companion’s heavy breathing. He caught the other’s lips again before he thrust strongly, joining them.

The smaller har wrenched his mouth free, arching his back and crying out at the familiar feeling. They shared breath again, quickly lost in the taste of each other and the heady experience of aruna.

Their unions were always like this – fast, intense and normally enclosed and hidden; away from prying eyes. Though neither would admit it, or perhaps even noticed, the dark rooms they chose to meet in shielded their aruna even from their own eyes.

Hair was gripped in blissful fists and sharp teeth dug into a shoulder, immediately soothed by the sweep of a tongue. The tiny room, nothing more than a storage closet, was soon filled with the sounds of their bodies moving against one another and their soft cries of pleasure.

All too soon both of them felt the tingle of their impending release. The smaller gripped his partner tighter with both arms and legs, rocking against the other. He bit his lip in a futile effort to stifle his cry when he felt the ouana tongue bite deep inside, sending him over the edge.

Then all sense of anything was replaced with the overwhelming wave of pleasure. The taller har slammed his fist into the wall beside his partner’s head, but the other didn’t even hear it, lost as he was in his own ecstasy. Just before the sensations died down they shared breath again, instinctively seeking to draw it out.

As the waves receded, they lapped at each other’s mouths, eyes shut. The taller stroked the other’s face, almost tenderly. Eventually, as if waking up after a long sleep their ministrations slowed and faltered. Eye contact was made and the embrace was released. The smaller har slid back onto his feet.

Clothes were straightened, hair smoothed.

The taller har took a deep breath, pausing for a second, one hand on the door handle, as if to say something. Instead he gave a brief smile before opening the door and disappearing through it. The door closed with a soft click leaving the second har in darkness.

A muffled voice came through the thick wood –  “Ashmael! I’ve been looking for you…”- then faded.

The smaller har stood silently for a moment, catching his breath, restoring his resolve. He shut his eyes for a moment, willing for the sting he felt in them to ease and ran his fingers across his flushed cheeks. Then he set his shoulders and swiftly exited the small room, emerging into a shadowed and rarely used corridor.

His footsteps were light and even as he made his way back to the more populated area of the palace.  Long robes swept against the polished marble floor and the har deliberately avoided making eye contact with the hara he passed as he entered the busier area.

Suddenly a voice stopped him.

“Vaysh! Where have you been?”

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Filling the Gap

Filling the Gap
by Camille Sinensis (Teapot_

Editor\'s PickStory Notes

Author: Camile_Sinensis (

Spoilers: Shades and Ghosts

Pairing: Thiede/Caeru

Caeru discovers that one Aghama is better than two Tigrons…

Filling The Gap


A long tendril of blonde hair tickled past Pell’s ear as he sat hunched over a pile of papers at his desk, and he felt the warmth of another body pressing into his back, hands gently encircling his neck.

“Not now, Rue,” he sighed, turning over another sheet of paper and staring intently at it

“But Pe-ell…” Rue’s voice took on a slightly petulant tone, “It’s been ever so long and I….mmmm….”

Pell didn’t know whether to be pleased about the fact that the insertion of Rue’s tongue into his left ear mean that the Tigrina could no longer continue his wheedlings, or annoyed about his consorts’s persistence and bad timing. Annoyance won the day.

“For goodness sake, Rue, not now – can’t you see I’m busy!

He felt the other har’s body stiffen, and experienced a small twinge of guilt at his curt dismissal of Rue’s amorous advances, but Rue could be just so… demanding… at times.

“Fine!” sniffed Rue. “I’ll find someone else! It’s not like I have to beg, or anything. Most hara find me quite attractive I’ll have you know!”

Pell was rewarded by a thump between his shoulder-blades which was not entirely playful. Rue’s voice had dropped half an octave, and his fluffy, feminine demeanour dissolved. Pell cringed inwardly. He knew what Rue was like when he was in one of these moods, and he almost felt sorry for the unsuspecting har who was about to be Rue’s victim.

“I think Cal is just next door….” he informed Rue. There’s a place in hell reserved for me now he thought morosely, but consoled himself with the thought that Cal was quite able to take care of himself, and should be able to mount a creditable defense against the aruna-seeking missile which was the Tigrina.

Rue flounced out determinedly, and headed straight for Cal’s apartments which were just next door. Without bothering to knock, he swept in past the unsurprised servants, who were used to such incursions.

“Ca-al…” he warbled, poking his head around the door to a private sitting room. As expected, Cal was within, wrestling with what appeared to be a large metal object.

“Rue how marvellous to see you come in why don’t you” Cal’s greeting was delivered with his customary charm, but his attention never left the strange object he was fiddling with.

Rue scowled. He was not in the mood for a lukewarm reception, especially after having just received the brush-off from Pell. He walked slinkily over to Cal, hips swaying seductively and planted himself on the other side of the low table upon which the object of Cal’s fascination rested.

Cal looked up, gave him a brief, feral grin, then returned to his fiddling. A few cogs and sprockets within the object went “poing”.

Rue knelt down and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward with his face cupped in his hands.

“What are you doing?” he asked, feigning interest in the mechanism, all the while fluttering his eyelashes unsubtly at Cal.

“Well, you see….” Cal started off enthusiastically, then stopped as he noticed Rue undulating himself across the table top.

“More to the point, what are you doing, Rue?” he asked, running his hand through his short, unruly hair nervously.

“Well…” Rue sighed tragically, reclining his full length upon the table and staring up at a point somewhere near the ceiling with misted blue eyes.

“I went to see Pell. I was hoping we could have a little… excitement… but he wasn’t interested. He’s no fun at all these days!” Rue pouted prettily and rolled onto his stomach. He smiled his most winning smile, and blinked hopefully at Cal.

“Uh…that’s shame,” agreed Cal, hastily rescuing his treasured object from Rue’s table-top squirmings.

“Mmm.. ” said Rue, arching his back, causing his pert and perfectly rounded bottom to raise itself in the general direction of Cal’s face.

Cal screwed up his face in mock-anguish and groaned theatrically. “Oh put it away, Rue – that’s very distracting. I’ve only got this widget for a couple of hours before the Hegemony want it back and…”

“Widget!?” snapped Rue, gathering himself upright. “WIDGET?? What sort of har are you, Calanthe? Here I am, the Tigrina of Immanion, prostrating myself at your feet – Rue stood up and rose to his full height at this point – and all you can think about is…. is…. widgets!!”

Rue stamped his foot and glared at Cal furiously. Unfortunately, given his slender build and lack of stature, this was less intimidating than he imagined.

Cal grinned. He loved it when Rue got angry. He found the Tigrina’s flailings quite endearing, and more enticing than any of his contrived attempts at seduction.

“You’re really cute when you’re angry Rue…. I…. ooooww! What the….?”

Cal howled and grabbed his shin, where the pointed toe of the Tigrina’s expensive, hand-made leather boot had just made crunching contact.

“Don’t patronise me!” Rue shrieked furiously. I am not “cute”. I am the FUCKING TIGRINA and I have NEEDS!!” Rue delivered his rebuke with feeling, then turned on his heel, tossed his long mane of blonde hair, and stomped out of the room.

“Aw, Rue.. don’t be like that…” Cal called after him, grinning as he rubbed his shin. “I promise you… I’ll make it up to you later….. Twice!…”

Cal’s last enticement went unheard. The Tigrina had already swept out of his apartments like a miniature thunderstorm.

Cal chuckled quietly to himself and returned to his widget. “…one of those days,” he muttered wisely, to no-one in particular.

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Butterflies With Guns

Butterflies with Guns
by Karen Chahbi

Story Notes

Spoilers: Bewitchments of Love and Hate


Credits: Thank you to Storm Constantine for creating this universe and letting us play with it.

The characters are mostly ones I made up, although Ponclast makes an appearance, and Cobweb, and Ithiel. Also Swift and Terzian are alluded to. It’s about a couple of Uigenna who run away from their tribe and find a life in a secluded valley somewhere between Galhea and Fulminir. One of them has a secret, and his past comes back to haunt him after they find themselves in Fulminir, having signed on as Varrish soldiers. It takes place during the time I guess Swift is growing up, and culminates just as the Gelaming are about to take Fulminir

Butterflies With Guns – Teaser

My home stands atop a hill surrounded by hardwood forest, and from the kitchen window I can see our little valley stretched out before me like a painting. The late afternoon sun reflects off the orchard gate, which in turn casts its long shadow across the gently sloping lawn. The apple trees have already shed their leaves, and I can see past the orchard, even as far as the little stone steps, and beyond them, the stream. From there the landscape drops into the valley below, and I can see out across the tops of the tall oaks and pines in the distance. If I close my eyes and stretch my mind out, I can skim along the forest floor, down the hill through the trees, along the golden carpet of leaves, and by doing so bring back lucid memories. I can float past the tall white obelisk in the town square, and look back, up into the hills toward my house, and beyond, to where the forest becomes nothing but a dark mass, and a pale mist covers the mountaintops far away. The sky is pink and those mountains are purple, and the mist encircles them like a gauzy shroud. It’s a lovely sight, but as I look I’m reminded that somewhere on the other side of those mountains I had another life, a long time ago. If I think about it, piece by piece, I can recall some of it in vivid detail. And still, some is lost to me. Somewhere on the other side of those mountains I lost my innocence, and crossing them, found it again. The journey from there to here was a long one. Along the way I learned to kill, to love, to hate, to forget. And sometimes to forgive. Somewhere along the way I buried someone I loved, and with him, a great part of myself. My story is all tied up in there somewhere.

Butterflies with Guns – Download as a PDF!
File is over 200 pages, single-spaced, so it works much better as a PDF than as a web page.


by Morgana

Story Notes 

Author’s Email:

Web page:

Main pairings: Pansea/Skye, Tarot/Lunar

Mentioned pairings: Azriel/Aleeme, Snake/Cobweb, and Flick/Ulaume.

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Paran takes Aleeme and Ponclast’s harling to Lisia and Tarot starts shaping his own destiny.

Disclaimer: Not mine. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters belong to Storm Constantine.

Warning: AU of course.

Spoiler warning: Set after book 6.

Beta read by DA, thanks sweetie!

All remaining mistakes are mine.


Paran shivered with disgust and tried to increase the distance between him and the harling he was taking care of. Cobweb had ordered him to take the harling to Lisia at the Harling Gardens because Cobweb refused to have a child conceived from pelki at Forever. During the last three days Paran had cared for the harling, but he would never have volunteered to do so. The child’s presence repulsed him.

The harling sat in front of him on the sedu’s back and Paran tried to keep his hold on the child as loose as possible since he loathed touching the abomination.

The harling was the result of Ponclast raping a helpless Aleeme, forcing him to host his pearl. General Aldebaran had told him how Ponclast had viciously abused Aleeme and had even forced Azriel to watch. As a result, Azriel and Aleeme had lost their minds, but Gelaming healers were doing their best to reclaim them. Cal had dropped Aleeme into a guard’s arms more dead than alive and had then left to get Moon and the harling out of Ponclast’s stronghold. As far as Paran was concerned, Cal should have left the harling there to rot.

The first time he had laid eyes on the harling, he had recoiled in disgust and with the knowledge that the child was Ponclast’s as well. The harling was ugly. There was no other way to describe his exterior *and* interior. His head was too big, the body emaciated, and the feline green eyes had seemed to stare right into his soul. His discomfort had grown the moment the harling had been entrusted to him. He had almost asked the General to reconsider, but in the end, he had remained quiet and reminded himself that this was just another order he had to carry out.

Long, raven hair peeked out from beneath the hood which Paran had pulled over the harling’s head so he didn’t have to look at him. He understood why Cobweb didn’t want the harling at Forever since he didn’t want the abomination close to him either. In a way, he pitied Lisia, who didn’t know yet that he was going to be the harling’s new caretaker.


Pansea was about to panic. Paran had arrived unexpectedly and had demanded to speak with Lisia at once. Pansea had shown the officer into a room and had then set out on a search for Lisia. It was noon and usually during that time, Lisia tended to visit with several harlings, but Pansea had no idea where he would find the hostling. He had been stunned to see that Paran wasn’t alone. A harling had accompanied the Gelaming. Pansea had wanted to smile at the harling, but the smile had frozen on his face when he had seen the harling’s pitiful state. He didn’t know the harling’s name or history, but it was obvious that the child had been mistreated. He was also malnourished. While searching for Lisia, Pansea made a stop at the kitchen and asked one of the househara to bring food and refreshments to Paran’s room.

“Lis! Wait for me!” Pansea caught sight of the hostling and started to run. He was short of breath by the time he arrived at Lisia’s side. The hostling gave him a worried look and the blond strand that streaked his brown hair swept into Lisia’s face. The hostling immediately tucked it behind an ear as Pansea grabbed hold of the hostling’s sleeve. “You need to come with me!”

Lisia wanted to calm Pansea, but then realized his aide was stressed for a reason. He fell into step beside the young har and asked, “What has happened?”

“Paran arrived with a harling. Oh Lis, the poor harling looks malnourished! He is emaciated and his eyes… You need to see him now!” Pansea was convinced that Lisia could help the harling. Lisia was his *hero* after all.

Lisia frowned. Why would Paran bring a harling to him? He realized there was a hidden story and probably a hidden agenda and he was determined to find out what it was.

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