Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Rating:  R-ish. I guess. I think. Maybe PG-13. Um. Okay, if you’re under 18, don’t clika.

Author’s notes: Yet another in the Furniture series. This time it’s Thiede’s mirror. Completely AU as always.
Beta:  TNT – my ever present and always loved beta.

Disclaimer:  As always, I own nothing. Nada. Nyet. Zippo. It’s all Storm’s. I’m just playing with it. Please don’t sue me. Obviously a brain that keeps coming up with this stuff isn’t worth owning. And it’s really all that I have. Sort of. Once GLHEC gets their hooks out of it . . .

Mirror, Mirror

Seriously. If that idiot looks into me one more time and remarks how beautiful he is, by all that is good and shiny in this world, I will arrange to have someone pop a cap in his ass. I mean, honestly! How often can one har toss his red hair over his shoulder and pout before it gets boring? How vain can one har be?! Ah, but when one is a mirror, that’s about all one can expect. That and hara doing stupid, messed-up shite and looking at themselves while doing it. Gods, sometimes I wish I had been made into a coach bumper or a window or something. He’s not the only annoying one, though.

I completely want to throw myself off the wall when the dark-haired one named Pellaz comes to visit. That har’s gonna be bald from brushing his hair so much. And he sings when he does it which sound pretty much like a cat caught in a washing machine. Then he asks his reflection who the prettiest har in all of Immanion is. If I could barf, I would. I so want to say “Not you, soon-to-be baldie! And, by the way, I saw your chesnari rooning Thiede seven ways from Sunday last month.” But, I am destined to be a silent observer of the hara who come to this place.

And while I’m on the topic of Pellaz’s chesnari, being in the same room with that har is about as much fun as having your silver scraped. Not only is he vain, as most hara are, but he’s loud, drinks too much, and likes to watch himself when he roons. If they only knew how stupid they look! Cal looks somewhere between getting ready to throw up, which I have also witnessed from Mr. Calanthe Drunkypants, and thinking too hard about something that confuses him. Like first-year harling math. I honestly don’t know why ANYhar would roon somehar that looks that funny when doing it. When he’s not rooning and making faces at himself, he’s either drunk or hung over. Skinny, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, but no one has clued Cal in on that yet. I don’t even want to talk about the time he got drunk and popped into the Otherlanes. I’m sure some poor realm is living with perpetual rain in the form of har barf courtesy of Immanion’s Favorite Drunk.

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by TS Clayton

Story Notes

Originally posted 2006.

This is a story I wrote for the Grissecon Challenge a couple of years ago. It never made the cut for the challenge and so I thought I’d share. Enjoy.

Rating – R

Characters – Calanthe and Pellaz

Size – 1,288 words

Author web site: http://www.sennovia.com


I lie replete, sprawled on a sea of cushions; the silk and lace caress my skin as a gentle breeze washes up my legs and chest. A sense of fulfillment flows through me. Utter satisfaction thrums deep inside my chest as a reminder of what I – we – did last night, and I know that well of power is now just waiting in the pit of my mind, needing only a spark to spring back to life, to arouse in me the splendor and unparalleled desires of my true self. That perfect, coveted spiritual state of completeness and unity that embodies and connects each and every Wraeththu alive.

But for now, I resist the urge, content to drift in a state of completion, to enjoy the silence that is no longer filled with voices – no longer filled with the unstoppable energies conjured by sex magic. The immensity of what we achieved, I think, shocked even the Hegemony. For this was the first joining of Immanion’s Tigrons, a joining blessed by the Aghama, sanctioned by the Council of Tribes in order to create a cleansing, a spiritual child from our loins that would eventually shatter the curse of madness sweeping in from the north.

I smile, stretching as the cool breeze plays over my face. I’m still tingling all over from the experience, the scent of lavender still fills my nostrils, and nothing seems real as I am lost again in the thrill of flying unbound on a plane of pure sensation. As free as the gods, infused with raw power as the earth beneath my feet vibrates in homage.

The echo of a rhythmic chanting whispers through in my mind and I open my senses to it subconsciously, only to find I am floating again on nothing, held suspended on pure ambience, searching…searching until I see him, and then with one glimpse I am drunk again on my lover’s beauty. Drawn to the scent of his hair, the warmth of his skin, the taste of his breath. With effort I turn away from the temptation and reach for the warmth beside me, needing the reminder of where I am, and who I am. Oh yes…I think we shocked the Hegemony last night.

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by Umihebiza

Story Notes

Originally posted to raythoo in Oct. 2005.

So I took a stab at writing my own Wraeththu fanfiction… it’s a one-shot, combining Caeru with a Grimm’s fairy tale. The fairy tale in question is The Sea Hare, by the way. I love it muchly and I’ve been looking for something to do with it.


Long ago in the early days when Wraeththu and Kamagrian mutated from human stock and the Aghama walked the earth, the first Tigron, Pellaz-har-Aralis, had a consort of legendary beauty. The lord Tigrina, a har named Caeru, complemented the dark loveliness of the Tigron with white-gold hair, deep blue eyes, and skin pale as milk. The Tigrina enjoyed wealth, power, comfort, everything he could possibly desire above and beyond what most hara could only imagine. Despite this, he was not happy, for his heart always quivered in his chest.

The Tigron despised his consort and would have nothing to do with him or their son. The Gelaming did not understand the coldness toward their Tigrina; however, those who lived and worked in Phaonica knew the Tigron loved another har named Calanthe, and they saw the Tigrina as a selfish gold-digger who usurped Calanthe’s place. Whatever the world thought, the Tigrina loved the Tigron with all his heart and would not give up his position in hope that someday the Tigron would forget Calanthe and love him in return.

In the palace, only the Aghama had the Tigrina’s trust. After all, the Aghama had raised him to this position, performed the blood-bond ceremony against the Tigron’s will, and intended to keep him there, so he believed unfailingly the Aghama would protect him against competition from the Tigron’s erstwhile chesnari. The Aghama assured the Tigrina that Calanthe would never find his way to Immanion, but even so, the Tigrina worried. Time passed and the Tigron would show him no affection; even during aruna a part of his soul would fly far away in search of the har he loved. Eventually the Tigrina would take no more promises without proof; not even his blood-bond could still his shaking. Surely Calanthe’s soul flew around the world as well, and when he found the Tigron, he would come and ruin everything.

One day, the Aghama took pity on the fretting Tigrina and gave him a gift. He led the Tigrina to the highest room in the tallest tower of Phaonica. The door to this room pushed up from the ceiling of the room below, for a door in the wall would have spoiled the effect. The Tigrina came up through the floor to find a room with twelve large windows in twelve walls, looking out in all directions, filling the room with light and providing the best view of Immanion. But the windows had a greater appeal than that.

“Go to a window, Caeru,” the Aghama told him with a smile. “Tell me what you see.”

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Ebony and Ivory

Ebony and Ivory
by Angelo Ventura

Story Notes

Originally written Sept. 20o5.

I was waiting for somebody to do this, but… guess I have to do it myself.

Featuring: Panthera and Zack

Ebony and Ivory

My chesnari Panthera, Crown Prince of Jael, urges me to try to write a story.
Here at Ferike all hara are very learned, almost nohar is without an artistic skill, be it pictorial, poetic or musical. Panthera is a very good painter, and he urged me to try that, too. Well, my efforts were labeled “interesting and original” by my beloved. I know what those words mean. He’s the most thoughtful and gentle har I’ve ever known. An exquisite person, who doesn’t want to hurt me with a frank appraisal.

Where do I begin, then? My inception? I don’t remember it very well, some white guy called Orion (or something like that) telling us we will finally rise over stupid white men who despised us.He seemed something of a white man, but he was more than a man..He seemed to glow with an inner light. He was beautiful, kind and gentle, more than any white man I’d known before.

Unfortunately, it was not he who incepted us. He left us with our already incepted leader, who shortly succumbed in an attack led by a brute called Wraxilan and his goons. His tribe was a motley very cruel band of a cruel tribe, called the Uigenna. The juice of Gehenna, they were, apt name. Their blood infected me, I was possessed by a savage lust for blood and revenge against white men. Still, a white har caught my young fierce heart.

Ah, Cal! Fair as I’m black, savage and fierce, my soul mate…at least so I believed.. I suffered exile from the Uigenna with him, and then it was only two of us, alone against a maddened, crumbling world. Cal, my lover, my addictive, poisonous pleasure.

I wish it had been different… Read the rest of this entry »

The End of Carmine

Shadows lengthen,
Wolves prowl the night
Garbed in the shape of men.
A scream.
The scent of fire.
The moon rises.
Eyes in the darkness.