Flash Fiction #11
Jul. 2nd, 2012 04:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsonFor mistress_pirate
Prompt: Sleet/Crysan, losing a bet
Universe: War of the Animum. Warnings for cross-dressing and cursing
For mandalee1013
Prompt: MalcolmxIonexGale, “Suddenly,” BT
Universe: Infinity's End AU. Warnings for slash, het, threesome
For mistress_pirate
Prompt: ErebusxAsclepius, are you done yet
Universe: War of the Animum, pre-Darkness Descends, canon. Warnings: light het.
Prompt: Sleet/Crysan, losing a bet
Universe: War of the Animum. Warnings for cross-dressing and cursing
“Just so you know,” Sleet says sourly, inflecting every bit of irritation and loathing he can muster into his tone, “this is not my idea of a good time.”
Lady Crysan laughs. “My dear, the idea of losing a bet is never anyone's good time. You should not have agreed to the terms.”
Sleet squares his jaw. “You cheated.”
“Never.” The madame grins, fluttering her hand at her chest. “You, however, should have known better than to play games of chance with a determined woman. It is a well-known fact that Luck is a lady. And I'm sure she is just as eager to see you fulfill the terms.”
Sleet twitches. “Fine,” he spits at her. “Do you worst.”
“I plan to.”
The rest of the women titter appreciatively and flock around him, all too eager to help in Sleet's humiliation. Dread mingles with embarrassment, and Sleet feels himself sliding back to the past, when his mother had done this to him. He hadn't any choice in the matter then either.
“Blue, I think my dears,” Lady Crysan announces over the giggling, gossiping women. “The better to match his eyes.”
An hour later, he finds himself the focus of a gaggle of prostitutes and their madam, all staring appreciatively at their cumulative efforts.
For all that he is draped in layers of fabric, Sleet feels exposed. And not in a good way. And when they bring a mirror into play, Sleet's humiliation is complete.
Lady Crysan had decided that a style more reminiscent of the people of Yokoto and further north was appropriate. So Sleet has a long swath of silk wrapped around his frame, from his bare ankles up to the high collar on his neck. A second piece of equally silky fabric drapes over his elbows, hanging down in a thin curtain. His face has been painted to match, his eyes heavy with kohl, cheeks thick with rouge. His lips are a smear of crimson which actually... isn't quite that bad.
Dionne giggles. “He actually looks good,” she says. “Earn some good coin here.”
Lady Crysan nods, hands on her hips and satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Of course he does. Tell me, Sleet, would you consider working as one of my girls?”
His eyes narrow. “Fuck you.” Laughter echoes all around.
Lady Crysan laughs. “My dear, the idea of losing a bet is never anyone's good time. You should not have agreed to the terms.”
Sleet squares his jaw. “You cheated.”
“Never.” The madame grins, fluttering her hand at her chest. “You, however, should have known better than to play games of chance with a determined woman. It is a well-known fact that Luck is a lady. And I'm sure she is just as eager to see you fulfill the terms.”
Sleet twitches. “Fine,” he spits at her. “Do you worst.”
“I plan to.”
The rest of the women titter appreciatively and flock around him, all too eager to help in Sleet's humiliation. Dread mingles with embarrassment, and Sleet feels himself sliding back to the past, when his mother had done this to him. He hadn't any choice in the matter then either.
“Blue, I think my dears,” Lady Crysan announces over the giggling, gossiping women. “The better to match his eyes.”
An hour later, he finds himself the focus of a gaggle of prostitutes and their madam, all staring appreciatively at their cumulative efforts.
For all that he is draped in layers of fabric, Sleet feels exposed. And not in a good way. And when they bring a mirror into play, Sleet's humiliation is complete.
Lady Crysan had decided that a style more reminiscent of the people of Yokoto and further north was appropriate. So Sleet has a long swath of silk wrapped around his frame, from his bare ankles up to the high collar on his neck. A second piece of equally silky fabric drapes over his elbows, hanging down in a thin curtain. His face has been painted to match, his eyes heavy with kohl, cheeks thick with rouge. His lips are a smear of crimson which actually... isn't quite that bad.
Dionne giggles. “He actually looks good,” she says. “Earn some good coin here.”
Lady Crysan nods, hands on her hips and satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Of course he does. Tell me, Sleet, would you consider working as one of my girls?”
His eyes narrow. “Fuck you.” Laughter echoes all around.
For mandalee1013
Prompt: MalcolmxIonexGale, “Suddenly,” BT
Universe: Infinity's End AU. Warnings for slash, het, threesome
He wakes to a foot in his face and an elbow digging into his spine. Gale blinks and promptly sneezes, causing the foot to twitch and seek shelter elsewhere. Much better.
He's also buried underneath the weight of two very naked bodies. Judging by the shape, that had been Ione's foot in his face, which means Malcolm's elbow is in his back. Though why Ione is sleeping upside down on the bed is anyone's guess. Gale honestly can't remember much of the night before. Too much Rozlin in too little time.
Behind him, Malcolm mutters and the elbow's gone. Gale breathes a sigh of relief. But it's short-lived as Malcolm flops over, throwing his arm over Gale's waist and snuggling against his back. Much softer and warmer, but the morning erection is present and accounted for as it prods against Gale's lower back.
Ione, too, chooses this moment to stir. Gale looks down, watches her head pop up from where it's been pillowed on Gale's calf, her hair sticking out in all directions. She's squinting in the morning light, a lovely imprint on her cheek.
“Whatsit?” she mumbles, and flops around on the narrow bed, pushing and pulling, flipping and twisting, until she's right side up and burrowing against Gale's front, one hand idly teasing across his chest. “Mornin'.”
“Mmmph,” Malcolm says.
“Good morning,” Gale replies, trying to ignore the dull throbbing behind his eyes.
“You sneezed on my foot,” Ione says with mischievous humor in her voice. Her finger continues to trace broader circles over his chest, teasing at his nipples.
“Your foot was in my face,” Gale reminds her.
The hand curved around Gale's waist takes on a life of it's own, drifting downward, teasing over Gale's half-wakened length. Someone is not as asleep as he is pretending to be. Especially noted when Gale feels lips press to the back of his neck, a tongue darting out to taste just at the top of his spine.
He fights back a sigh. “Do you two always have such a high libido?”
He feels more than sees Malcolm's grin. “Yes,” he says just as Ione chuckles and wriggles closer, saying “Yep!”
Gale reaches out, curving an arm around Ione's waist and dragging her nearer. “You two will be the death of me yet,” he murmurs, but he doesn't fight the shivers dancing down his spine, or the warm pleasure growing in his belly. He honestly doesn't mind.
He's also buried underneath the weight of two very naked bodies. Judging by the shape, that had been Ione's foot in his face, which means Malcolm's elbow is in his back. Though why Ione is sleeping upside down on the bed is anyone's guess. Gale honestly can't remember much of the night before. Too much Rozlin in too little time.
Behind him, Malcolm mutters and the elbow's gone. Gale breathes a sigh of relief. But it's short-lived as Malcolm flops over, throwing his arm over Gale's waist and snuggling against his back. Much softer and warmer, but the morning erection is present and accounted for as it prods against Gale's lower back.
Ione, too, chooses this moment to stir. Gale looks down, watches her head pop up from where it's been pillowed on Gale's calf, her hair sticking out in all directions. She's squinting in the morning light, a lovely imprint on her cheek.
“Whatsit?” she mumbles, and flops around on the narrow bed, pushing and pulling, flipping and twisting, until she's right side up and burrowing against Gale's front, one hand idly teasing across his chest. “Mornin'.”
“Mmmph,” Malcolm says.
“Good morning,” Gale replies, trying to ignore the dull throbbing behind his eyes.
“You sneezed on my foot,” Ione says with mischievous humor in her voice. Her finger continues to trace broader circles over his chest, teasing at his nipples.
“Your foot was in my face,” Gale reminds her.
The hand curved around Gale's waist takes on a life of it's own, drifting downward, teasing over Gale's half-wakened length. Someone is not as asleep as he is pretending to be. Especially noted when Gale feels lips press to the back of his neck, a tongue darting out to taste just at the top of his spine.
He fights back a sigh. “Do you two always have such a high libido?”
He feels more than sees Malcolm's grin. “Yes,” he says just as Ione chuckles and wriggles closer, saying “Yep!”
Gale reaches out, curving an arm around Ione's waist and dragging her nearer. “You two will be the death of me yet,” he murmurs, but he doesn't fight the shivers dancing down his spine, or the warm pleasure growing in his belly. He honestly doesn't mind.
For mistress_pirate
Prompt: ErebusxAsclepius, are you done yet
Universe: War of the Animum, pre-Darkness Descends, canon. Warnings: light het.
“Are you done yet?”
“No.”
“How about now?”
“No.”
“You're taking forever!”
“Clearly, you have no concept of time.” Erebus pauses, glaring at his companion out of the corner of his eyes. “Also, I would be working faster if you weren't trying your hardest to distract me.”
Asclepius leans closer, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Oh? Is it working?” she asks, her natural, floral scent floating to his nose.
Feeling a heat steal into his cheeks, Erebus stubbornly turns his attention back to his paperwork. “No,” he replies. “At least, not the way you think it does.”
“I think you're lying,” Asclepius all but purrs, leaning on his desk and pressing up against him, exuding heat in palpable waves. “I think you don't want me to know just how distracting I am.”
Erebus has read over the same page three times, he's certain of it. He tries to ignore Asclepius, but with her magical energy buzzing at the edge of his senses, it's impossible to do so. Part of him wishes with all his might that Orthrus would come get his errant daughter. Another part of him is glad for her company. Though he doesn't dare say anything aloud.
“Erebus?” Asclepius murmurs, right next to his ear. “Surely that's not more interesting than I am, right?” One finger prods at his cheek, a ticklish touch.
His grip tightens on his quill. “Asclepius,” he starts, and then pauses, realizing how very much his voice has taken on the tone of begging. “You know that I have to get this done.”
“I'm not stopping you,” she says brightly, and inches that much closer, until he can feel her breath on his sensitive ear. “I'm just waiting. Patiently. Quietly.”
He wants to scoff at her commentary, but his concentration has just flown out the figurative window. He sets down his quill. “Then it's a good thing I'm done for the day.”
Asclepius' resounding cheer makes the lecture he'll be getting from her father worth it.
“No.”
“How about now?”
“No.”
“You're taking forever!”
“Clearly, you have no concept of time.” Erebus pauses, glaring at his companion out of the corner of his eyes. “Also, I would be working faster if you weren't trying your hardest to distract me.”
Asclepius leans closer, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Oh? Is it working?” she asks, her natural, floral scent floating to his nose.
Feeling a heat steal into his cheeks, Erebus stubbornly turns his attention back to his paperwork. “No,” he replies. “At least, not the way you think it does.”
“I think you're lying,” Asclepius all but purrs, leaning on his desk and pressing up against him, exuding heat in palpable waves. “I think you don't want me to know just how distracting I am.”
Erebus has read over the same page three times, he's certain of it. He tries to ignore Asclepius, but with her magical energy buzzing at the edge of his senses, it's impossible to do so. Part of him wishes with all his might that Orthrus would come get his errant daughter. Another part of him is glad for her company. Though he doesn't dare say anything aloud.
“Erebus?” Asclepius murmurs, right next to his ear. “Surely that's not more interesting than I am, right?” One finger prods at his cheek, a ticklish touch.
His grip tightens on his quill. “Asclepius,” he starts, and then pauses, realizing how very much his voice has taken on the tone of begging. “You know that I have to get this done.”
“I'm not stopping you,” she says brightly, and inches that much closer, until he can feel her breath on his sensitive ear. “I'm just waiting. Patiently. Quietly.”
He wants to scoff at her commentary, but his concentration has just flown out the figurative window. He sets down his quill. “Then it's a good thing I'm done for the day.”
Asclepius' resounding cheer makes the lecture he'll be getting from her father worth it.
