Advent Treasures

Adventure Treasures
by Deathangelgw

Story Notes

Every year, I do ficlets for Advent up until and including Christmas. To me, they are a symbol of the best things and the not so great things for Christmas. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. All of them are owned by Storm baby… Wah!

Rating: G/PG for innuendo

Timeline: HA! Who needs a timeline!

Warnings: AU, fluff, sap.

Part 1: Peppermint and Cocoa

The very soft sounds of humming floated through the halls of the Tigrons’ home as Caeru made his way towards the balcony with a cup of steaming cocoa that had an old fashioned candy cane in it. He grinned as he went out onto the balcony and tugged his cloak around him tighter against the cold wind that was blowing up with the snow that was falling softly to the ground. It wasn’t often that they’d get snow, but when it did, it was a sight to behold. The snow would glitter with the lights from the active city and would becoming almost like trimming on the bodies and hair of most of the hara that were wandering around the city, whether on errands or in search of enjoyment.

But for the Tigrina, it was a time to just watch the world change into a blank slate, wiped clean and white with each new flake that floated down from the overcast sky. In many ways, he found it heartening to know that even nature had a way of making things new. Whenever it began to snow for the first time, or actually at any time, he would wrap himself in his warmest cloaks and come out onto the balcony with a cup of traditional hot cocoa and a candy cane in it and would watch the snow fall. He was never cold for his thoughts and the cloak along with the drink would keep him toasty warm.

But this time, his ponderings were broken as his son peered out onto the balcony before coming out. “Caeru? What are you doing here?” he asked his hostling as he rubbed his hands on his arms in a weak attempt to warm up.

“Watching the snow fall. Care to join me?” Caeru answered with a grin as he patted the seat next to him on the wrought iron bench that he was lounging on. The cushion he patted was fairly hard, but it dipped a little in response to the patting.

Hustling over, Darquiel sat next to his hostling and grinned when Caeru opened the cloak he was wearing to share it with him. He leaned his head against Caeru’s shoulder as the cloak was tightened around them both and sighed happily. He felt so warm against his hostling as that hole in his heart was filled once more with the scent and feel of his hostling holding him close. “So, why are you watching the snow fall?” he whispered through his slightly chattering teeth and grinned when Caeru offered him some of his drink. “What’s this?”

“Hot cocoa with a candy cane. It’ll warm ya a bit,” Caeru explained with a chuckle before placing a kiss on his son’s head. “And I’m watching the snow fall because it’s peaceful,” he added in answer to the previous question.

“Yea I guess, but it’s cold too,” Darquiel pointed out and smiled when Caeru laughed. He didn’t hear Caeru laugh often enough he felt.

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The Longest Night (Ever)

Editor\'s PickThe Longest Night (Ever)
by Haylzee and En

Story Notes

Paring: Pellaz./Cal, Caeru with appearances from pretty much everyhar.

Rating NC17

Warning Drunken displays of affection, sap and fluff!

Spoilers: Nothing specific, although characters from as far through as Ghosts to appear.

Summary: After being separated for some weeks, Cal and Pell are reunited. Unfortunately, the reunion takes place at a formal dinner during which Pell gets drunk and roony. Will Cal be able to resist Pellaz? Will he want to?

Disclaimer: All characters and the world they inhabit belong to Storm Constantine, we are simply borrowing them for our own amusement.

Authors’ note: We wrote this to soothe our own self inflicted angst wounds.

EXTREME SILLINESS WARNING. If you are looking for something deep and meaningful, best to move on. After all the doom and gloom, we just felt like a bit of comedy…with some sex thrown in.

The Longest Night (Ever)

Part 1

Walking a few steps ahead of the Tigrina down an ornate marble corridor, Cal tried to ignore his consort’s last minute attempts to improve his outfit. When Cal arrived at Caeru’s apartment to escort him to yet another gathering of Almagabra’s finest, he thought his chosen outfit of simple leather pants and a black shirt were more than appropriate. Caeru, however, had other ideas. Rue had immediately attacked Cal’s hair with a brush, ignoring Cal’s protests that it had already been combed and quickly followed that by holding up various jeweled adornments for Cal to pick from.

Cal had eventually conceded to wear a gold cuff bracelet and a second pair of earrings before exasperatedly pulling the Tigrina out of his apartment and towards the banquet room.

Cal battered Caeru’s hand away from his hair before shooting a glare over his shoulder at the other har. “Would you stop fussing?” He asked, rolling his eyes at Rue’s innocent expression.

Cal sighed and stopped walking, turning to face his consort. “Fine. Fluff away.”

Caeru grinned before reaching up to smooth his thumbs under Cal’s eyes, smudging the kohl that lined them a little more. “I just want you to look your best,” He laughed. “You should be thanking me.”

Cal grimaced slightly, letting himself be pampered and polished by the Tigrina, while still attempting between attacks to edge towards the hall where the dinner they were already late for was being held. “I’ll thank you when you’re finished,” he muttered. He started when Caeru pulled what appeared to be a small jar of coloured eye dust out of nowhere. “What are you doing?”

Deftly, the Tigrina unscrewed the jar, which was full of sparkling gold powder. “Just some final touches!”

Cal was tempted to jerk away, but simply sighed as Caeru raised a gold coloured finger towards his eyes. “I don’t need any of that stuff,” he said uselessly.

As if reading his mind, which he probably was, Caeru grinned wickedly. “Resistance is futile, Calanthe,” he tutted. “Now, close.”

Cal grumbled, but complied and let the Tigrina pat the cosmetic onto his eyelids.

“You want to look nice for Pell,” Caeru said.

“Do I?”

“You haven’t seen him for weeks,” Rue said, standing back to admire his handy work. “Don’t tell me you’re not excited to see him.”

Cal just raised his eyebrows. “Will he even recognise me, one wonders?”

Rue rolled his eyes, then, ignoring the hara who stood around them holding glasses of bubbling wine, stepped forward and pressed his lips against Cal’s. He pulled back and smeared the lip gloss he had left behind neatly across Cal’s lips. “There. Perfect.”

Pausing just outside the door to the hall where the night’s festivities were to take place, Cal shook back his hair and held out his arm for the Tigrina. “Glad I’m presentable enough to escort you now, tiaharr.”

Rue smiled and took Cal’s arm. “Always presentable enough for that, Calanthe.”

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Not Too Short

Not Too Short
by Em

Characters: Pellaz, Cal, Flick

Rating: G(!)

Summary: Cal decides it is time for a haircut.

Spoilers: None really but set while Cal and Pellaz are in Saltrock so perhaps Enchantments if you’re really fussy.

Disclaimer: Characters and the world they inhabit belong to Storm Constantine, I am simply trying to pass the time in a boring afternoon.

Unbeta-d so any mistakes are my own. Apologies in advance!

Not Too Short

When Pellaz and Cal first met, Cal’s blond hair hung down to his shoulders and bright strands slipped out of the ponytail he would tie it up in. After his inception, Pellaz would stroke his fingers through the long locks, mourning his own dark hair which had been sacrificed. The loss of his hair was still a sore point with Pell and in the rare event that Cal would tease him about his new hair style Pellaz would bristle and never fail to react.

“You’re vain, Pellaz,” Cal would tell him.

With one hand covering the shorn side of his head Pellaz would glare. “So what? My hair used to be beautiful!”

“And you’re learning to release modesty!” Cal chuckled. “I’m sorry, Pell. Look, it’s growing back.”

It was growing back, but Pellaz still found his new hairstyle hard to deal with. The hair at the sides, while no longer short and bristly still had to be tied or clipped back, less it constantly fall in his face. His ponytail still hung long and smooth down his back, however. He had ignored Cal’s suggestion to cut it all off to one even length. Parting with some of his hair had been traumatic enough!

Flick told him to get over it, he had never understood Pellaz’s stubborn insistence on growing his hair back. In contrast to Pellaz, who wanted his hair to grow back as quickly as possible, Flick had retained the style forced upon him during inception. He routinely shaved the sides of his head, an act that had Pellaz shuddering with disgust but unable to look away.

“I like it,” Flick shrugged. “It’s easier this way. Don’t even have to tie it up to keep it out of the way!”

So when Cal announced one evening that he wanted to cut his hair Pellaz reacted with outrage.

“No!” he cried. “Why would you do that?”

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Tyson’s Bath

Tyson’s bath
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Rating: Hmm. PG. I think. I’ve never posted non-smuttage before.

Author’s notes: VERY AU – as always. Ty is about three in this – at that fun age when harlings know everything and their parents are total idiots in their minds.

Beta: Three guesses. As, always, TNT.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. It’s all Storm Constantine’s – character, places, etc. The brain is still on lease-to-own option and I just finished my last Diet Coke. Such is my life.

Summary: Terzian gets Tyson ready for bed.

Tyson’s Bath

“NO! I won’t! You can’t make me!”

With one well-aimed kick, Tyson had freed himself from Terzian’s arms. While the Varr was doubled over in pain, Tyson leapt off the floor where he has been dumped when harling foot had connected with ouana-lim. The harling looked up at his father then bolted down the long hallway. He skittered into Cobweb’s sitting rooms and hid under the couch panting softly.

Feeling smug about getting the best of his father, he didn’t keep a good eye out for Terzian’s boots coming into the room. Tyson soon found himself being yanked out from under the couch and whisked into his father’s tight grip. The harling tried to place another liberating kick but Terzian was expecting it and tucked the squirming harling under his arm so Tyson’s feet flailed safely behind him.

“Tyson,” Terzian began evenly. “You need a bath.”

“No. I don’t,” Ty answered, cocking one eyebrow and looking very much like his hostling.

Terzian sighed through his nose and said, “Yes. You do. You smell and Cobweb will have a fit if you get into bed like that.”

“You don’t have to tell him,” Tyson suggested, smiling.

Terzian had reached the end of his patience. Putting the harling down, he growled softly, “Tyson. Get naked and into the bath. Now.”

“Fine!” Tyson shouted. He stomped back down the hall, grumbling about not stinking and Cobweb not even being there and that he didn’t have to know everything. He grudgingly stripped off, dumping his clothes in a pile on the floor of Cobweb and Terzian’s bedroom and stomped into the bathroom. He stared at the tub.


Terzian poked his head around the door. Tyson stood, his arms crossed and tapping his foot while frowning. It took all his Varrish control for Terzian not to burst out laughing. The harling looked ridiculous, trying to look fierce while stand in the bathroom naked. Clearing his throat, he came into the bathroom.

“Yes, Ty?”

“There’s no bubbles,” Tyson pouted.

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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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