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telesilla ([info]telesilla) wrote in [info]porn_battle,
@ 2008-09-18 14:48:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:round five

Prompt List: Round Five
And now...the moment we've all be waiting for!

Prompt Lists: Round Five

You'll notice that the Western Media prompts have been handled a little differently; we're experimenting still. Also, please excuse any mistakes; all told we had over 2600 prompts and even split up as they were, things will slip past us.

So, you have a week; at some point in the evening on Thursday the 25th, I'll close the battle. Until then?

*points down to the comments*

Porn goes here!

You must put the prompt in the subject header of your comment. If the prompt is too long, name the fandom and pairing and as much of the rest as you can. (This is so that at the end of the round, we can make a link back to your fic on the final Master List.)

If your fic is too long for one comment, post part one as a top level comment and then the second part in reply to that comment and so on.

Have fun!

ETA: I am aware that most of the lists off site are all scrunched together. They shouldn't be and I'm working on it. Thanks for your understanding.

As of now--1:10 PST--the Porn Battle is closed.

The list of fics will be up soon, hopefully by tomorrow evening unless my connectivity issues continue.

Thanks for playing, everyone!



Page 1 of 9
<<[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] >>

(Post a new comment)

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, Fai/Kurogane, territory
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:04 pm UTC (link)
Fai stalked through his set of rooms to Kurogane's, growling under his breath. He tried not to do that but he couldn't actually help it right this moment.

He knew that Kurogane had oaths he needed to keep, that Tomoyo-hime was his liege and would be until one of them died; they'd talked about that before agreeing to settle in Nippon. Most of the time Fai didn't mind at all. Tomoyo was a charming woman with a delightful sense of humor and he had her to thank for significant parts of his sanity. They had wonderful chats about their favorite grumpy ninja.

It was just that he'd already been hungry, today, and one of the courtiers had made a remark about there being nothing Kurogane wouldn't do or give his master, and it had grated on Fai's soul.

Kurogane was his.

Kurogane was also leaning against the wall beside his open balcony screen, a simple robe tied loosely about him, reading quietly. He looked up when Fai more or less slammed the hall screen closed behind him and demanded, a bit irately, "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm hungry." That was the least of it, but it was somewhere to start, and something they both understood by now.

Kurogane snorted and laid his book aside. "Eat, then, before you start throwing tantrums." He held out a hand, only to blink as Fai stalked across the room and slid down to straddle his lap, winding his arms around Kurogane's shoulders and nuzzling his throat. "Fai?" His hands settled slowly on Fai's back.

"Really hungry." He licked slowly up the line of Kurogane's neck, distracted and husky with the scent of his prey. "Mmm." His arms tightened around Kurogane and he pressed closer.

Kurogane was breathing quickly and Fai could feel his pulse against his lips. "Go ahead." He tipped his head back.

Fai purred with pleasure and bit down, twining tight around Kurogane. Richness filled his mouth, warm and satisfying, and he let his hands wander over Kurogane's shoulders, down his chest, stroking under the robe, and back up to comb through his hair. "Mine," he murmured indistinctly against his prey's throat and sucked firmly.

The way Kurogane shuddered under him, the sounds he made as his hands kneaded slowly against Fai's back, were as satisfying as his taste.

Gradually the heat of shared life smoothed away the corners of Fai's temper and he settled comfortably against Kurogane, nuzzling his throat and lapping softly until the blood stopped. He felt calm and content, and a tiny corner of his mind thought that was strange. Most of him, though, was just pleased to lie against Kurogane's chest and feel large hands stroking up and down his back.

"Better?" Kurogane asked, quietly.

Fai smiled. "Much." He felt Kurogane's lips curve, in turn, against his temple.

He drifted off like that, warm and happy, and when he woke up the next morning and tried to be apologetic Kurogane just snorted at him and pulled him close, one hand cupping the back of Fai's head, to murmur one word in his ear.

"Yours."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, Fai/Kurogane, territory - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:52 pm UTC
Re: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, Fai/Kurogane, territory - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 07:05 pm UTC
Re: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, Fai/Kurogane, territory - [info]hullabaloo, 2008-09-24 01:17 am UTC
Re: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, Fai/Kurogane, territory - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-24 11:34 am UTC
Eyeshield 21, Juumonji/Sena, protective
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:06 pm UTC (link)
It was ridiculous. It was absurd. Six months on the same team, no matter what kind of hell they'd gone through together, should not be able to wash away over two years of bullying. But there it was.

He'd gotten used to protecting Sena.

He stepped out on the field, for his own pride and anger and future, and he put his body and bones on the line to guard, well, the quarterback, yeah, but mostly Sena. Because Hiruma could take being downed and Sena...

Okay, Sena could take it too. Sena's back was still slim, under his hands, but it was hard these days, solid with the muscle that let him be tackled by Banba and Yamato and Shin fucking Seijuurou and still stand back up and run again.

But it was his job to protect Sena.

So, yeah, maybe it was ridiculous that he was so careful, drawing Sena against him, that he tried to be gentle when he kissed Sena. But he couldn't help it!

Sena was good at getting him to forget that, though.

"Mmmm, Kazuki... Kazuki, more..."

Sena's eyes were hazy and dark, and the arch of him under Kazuki was abandoned. When Sena lost himself, when he forgot politeness and titles and diffidence, he was the most amazing thing Kazuki had ever seen, and he lifted Sena up, thrusting into him deeper. The tight heat of Sena's body around him made him moan.

"Fuck, Sena..."

Sena smiled up at him, innocent and sweet and wanton. "Yes."

Kazuki gasped and his hips drove forward, fucking Sena hard, and Sena's open moan as his body wrung tight sent a shudder down Kazuki's spine and it didn't stop there. Pleasure rushed out, tingling in his fingers and toes, pulsing with every beat of his heart, and his heart was pounding. Sena sighed, head laid back, and Kazuki's hands tightened fiercely on his ass.

He really, really couldn't help it, though, when they settled back down against the bed and he wrapped his arms around Sena carefully, protectively, even if it did make Sena laugh a little.

He didn't mind as much that it made Sena cuddle into his chest, and he buried his face in Sena's hair with a gruff sound. It was absolutely ridiculous.

He wasn't going to let go.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Eyeshield 21, Juumonji/Sena, protective - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:50 pm UTC
Re: Eyeshield 21, Juumonji/Sena, protective - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 07:03 pm UTC
Yuugiou, Yami Bakura/Malik, partnership, We know when to kiss and we know when to kill
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:08 pm UTC (link)
Bakura had decided months ago that Malik was prettier when he was sane. He was prettier still spread out on white sheets, glowing and golden in the sunlight, quite the equal of anything Bakura ever set out to steal. He'd be an ornament to any tomb, except that Malik never went underground any more if he could possibly help it. This room was on the third floor and the narrow windows, made to let in breeze but not sun, had been knocked out into two wide ones that showed pale-baked roofs falling away into the town's outskirts.

His host's father's dig was just over the hills, and when Bakura thought about the man's likely reaction, if he'd known just why Ryou had asked to come along on this trip, it amused him mightily.

Malik amused him more, though.

"So?" he murmured, dragging his tongue up the inside of Malik's thigh, watching Malik shudder through lowered lashes. "You've found a true seer?"

"Think so," Malik gasped, fingers tangling in Bakura's hair, tugging him up between Malik's legs. "She told me my own past; the parts only we were there for. She says she can see the path of souls."

Bakura took his time, despite the tugging, nibbling his way up Malik's thigh, nipping the soft skin and leaving faint marks. He liked the way Malik drew taut and spread his legs wider. "Good," he finally purred, lips brushing Malik's cock teasingly. "Because I'm not going anywhere until I find out the fate of my people's souls, and why the one who enchained them wasn't devoured by Ammut." He lapped slowly at Malik's head, savoring his open moan, and the flex of fingers in his hair. "And whether, after his further sins against you, he was somehow released again. And if the gods don't like it," he smiled up the length of Malik's body, pleased with the heat in Malik's eyes as they met his, "they can bite me." He suited action to idiom and closed his teeth delicately around Malik's cock, chuckling low in his throat as Malik arched off the bed, driving deeper into his mouth.

"Yes," Malik moaned, eyes sliding shut as Bakura sucked slow and hard on him. "Yes, you know..."

"I know." Bakura flicked his tongue back and forth over Malik's head, pleased with the way Malik bucked under him, the sounds he made. "I know the need to be sure," he purred to his lover, stroking him with the words, too. "To watch the knife go in and the very last breath leave and know that it's done."

Malik cried out, thrusting hard into Bakura's mouth as he came completely undone, and Bakura rode it out, watched him, sating his own hunger on Malik's abandon in his hands. He slid up Malik's body, as he fell back panting, and coiled around him. "We'll go tomorrow and find out," he murmured in Malik's ear.

Malik smiled, slow and lazy and sharp, and wound his fingers back into Bakura's hair, drawing him down to a wet, open kiss.

"Yes."



End

A/N: Author's pet theory is that Ishtar tou-san is a reincarnation of Akunadin. This is supported by nothing but the fact they look quite alike, but it's no stranger than anything else.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Yuugiou, Yami Bakura/Malik, partnership, We know when to kiss and we know when to kill - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:48 pm UTC
Re: Yuugiou, Yami Bakura/Malik, partnership, We know when to kiss and we know when to kill - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 07:03 pm UTC
Yuugiou, Anzu/Shizuka, hand-holding, the very first time
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:09 pm UTC (link)
It took her a while to come to grips with it. After all, Yuugi was the sweetest boy she knew and his other self was, well, he was exciting. But the fact was, she didn't understand them, any of them, and she wasn't at all sure that Duelists understood normal people, either.

And the thought of kissing someone she didn't understand made her twitch.

And Honda was a goof, and Otogi-kun was too close to a Duelist in his own ways, and Mokuba was a cute kid but he was way too young!

Shizuka, though... Shizuka was sweet and brave and amazingly strong, after all just look at all she'd been through without ever even flinching. And Shizuka smiled at her and leaned against Anzu's shoulder when she laughed, and took her hand so trustingly it made her want to hold the girl close and protect her from the whole world and listen while Shizuka told her what courage looked like.

Not the courage of dragons and swords, but the courage of reaching for an earthly dream and standing firm under earthly sadness.

And that, she supposed, was how she'd come to be holding Shizuka, marveling at how slight she felt in her arms, feeling warm arms slipping around her neck, and kissing Shizuka as gentle and slow as she knew how.

Which wasn't very much yet, the knowing that was, but it was their first time, after all. They'd get better.

Although, looking at Shizuka's shy smile, feeling the softness of Shizuka's hair under her fingers, she wasn't actually sure that was possible.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Yuugiou, Anzu/Shizuka, hand-holding, the very first time - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:46 pm UTC
Re: Yuugiou, Anzu/Shizuka, hand-holding, the very first time - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 07:01 pm UTC
Re: Yuugiou, Anzu/Shizuka, hand-holding, the very first time - [info]misura, 2008-09-21 06:16 am UTC
Re: Yuugiou, Anzu/Shizuka, hand-holding, the very first time - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-21 12:31 pm UTC
RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits
[info]the_reverand
2008-09-18 05:11 pm UTC (link)
In the limousine they shared they compared the grey material of their suits for similarity in both color and texture, as if the matching had not been intentional. Viggo fingered the fabric of Ed's jacket and then his own, using words like "smoother" and "warmer" and declared them different enough. Ed ran a finger down the outside seam of Viggo's nearest pantleg and said he wasn't so sure.

In Viggo's hotel room Viggo sat at the bar and Ed stood by him, both jackets draped over a chairback. After the alcohol Viggo had icewater and it chilled his fingers enough that Ed remarked on it when Viggo took his wrist and held it. And held it. When Ed leaned forward Viggo dropped his head to rest on Ed's chest and just leaned against him. Ed the wall. Ed played the part until Viggo leaned back, looked up, inviting. Viggo's hands, when they found Ed's skin elsewhere, were already warm.

In bed they had a staring contest, lying on their sides, naked but for smiles and the cover afforded by each other's bodies. Viggo lost when he came in Ed's hand and he shut his eyes tightly. Ed never did blink or look away unless Viggo missed it. He didn't think he had. Clearly Ed had been practicing.

In the morning they mistakenly put on each other's pants. When they had stripped them off again Ed handed the rightful pair to Viggo and Viggo held both pair, comparing the weight of the fabrics and thumbing each thoughtfully in turn. "They really are very similar", he said, and Ed smiled and took his pair and took Viggo's also and dropped them quietly to the floor and reached and kissed and agreed that they were.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]zillah975, 2008-09-18 06:01 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 07:15 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]continua, 2008-09-18 06:40 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 07:16 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - (Anonymous), 2008-09-18 07:04 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 07:18 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]mrkinch, 2008-09-18 09:03 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 09:21 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]helens78, 2008-09-19 12:53 am UTC
Re: RPF, Viggo/Ed Harris, grey suits - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-19 06:29 am UTC
The Vorkosigan Saga, By/Ivan, he doesn't know how this keeps happening
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:12 pm UTC (link)
[Sequel to Population Control, from the last Battle.]

He really didn't know how this kept happening.

"By," he said, proud of how even his voice was, "we're not on an assignment, right?"

"Right," By agreed with a lazy smile full of predatory inquiry.

"And we're not under any kind of surveillance, right?" They had damn well better not be, or he'd... well, he'd think of something.

By made an affirmative sound to this, too, leaning closer.

"So why exactly," Ivan persevered, "am I sitting on your couch with my pants undone?" The sternness of the question was a bit undercut by his gasp as By's fingers stroked down his length.

"Because it's fun," By declared with a downright wicked smile. Before Ivan could ask who for, By leaned in all the way and nibbled on his neck and Ivan couldn't quite stifle the moan as a shiver of heat ran down his spine to jolt between his legs. "See?" By had the evilness to say.

"Dammit, By..." Ivan took a breath, hand clenching in By's tunic, and it would be nice if he could convince himself that was a prelude to throwing the other man off the couch. "I like women," he managed, a bit plaintively.

"Of course you do." By fingered his cock, smiling agreeably all the while. "But tastes do change as we mature. I mean," he waved his free hand airily, "just look at Lady Alys."

Ivan's brain short circuited as he attempted frantically not to imagine his mother in relation to any kind of sex whatsoever, a job made harder these days by Illyan, and just thinking that made his eyes cross all over again. By took ungentlemanly advantage of this to straddle Ivan's lap and wrap a hand firmly around him. And Ivan was a guy, after all, was it his fault if that made his hips rock up and grind against By's? No, it was not. Not at all.

He would think of a justification later, for his hands to be spread against By's back, pulling By tight against him, and for the sound he made into By's mouth.

He would have a harder time explaining the way his hands slid down to cup By's ass and knead it while By was getting both their clothing out of the way and stroking their cocks together. If he bothered explaining. Maybe he wouldn't. It felt good, hot and slick, and By was laughing low in his throat, wicked and knowing, the way none of the girls Ivan had ever been with had, well, barring Lady Donna, so maybe it was just a Vorrutyer thing. And, anyway, look how that had ended up...

The rush of pleasure unraveled Ivan's thoughts.

When he could put words together sensibly again By was handing him a towel and a smirk. Ivan growled at the latter and took the former, cleaning himself up with as much dignity as possible.

By didn't even bother fastening his pants, and still managed to look collected, which Ivan thought was cosmically unfair. "One of these days I'll get you to stay the night."

Ivan gave him a dire look. "Don't even think it."

As By threw back his head and laughed, a tiny voice in the back of Ivan's head reminded him that By liked challenges quite a lot. Ivan ignored it firmly. It wasn't his fault that he kept winding up in these situations.

He really didn't know how it happened.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: The Vorkosigan Saga, By/Ivan, he doesn't know how this keeps happening - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:45 pm UTC
Re: The Vorkosigan Saga, By/Ivan, he doesn't know how this keeps happening - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 07:00 pm UTC
Re: The Vorkosigan Saga, By/Ivan, he doesn't know how this keeps happening - [info]misura, 2008-09-21 06:18 am UTC
Re: The Vorkosigan Saga, By/Ivan, he doesn't know how this keeps happening - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-21 12:30 pm UTC
Re: The Vorkosigan Saga, By/Ivan, he doesn't know how this keeps happening - [info]etrangere, 2008-09-23 10:06 am UTC
Re: The Vorkosigan Saga, By/Ivan, he doesn't know how this keeps happening - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-23 11:48 am UTC
Shounen Onmyouji, Guren/Masahiro, not a pet
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:19 pm UTC (link)
It was amazing how hard someone as small as Mokkun could stomp.

"Can't believe... total idiot... pet..."

Masahiro sighed. "Come on, Mokkun," he interrupted the grumbling. "He didn't realize you were a mononoke, so I had to tell him something."

Mokkun's silky tail lashed. "I am not a mononoke!" He glared up at Masahiro as they walked--and stomped--down the breezeway to Masahiro's rooms.

"Yes, but you look like one," Masahiro pointed out, sliding his door closed behind them. "And we're just lucky you also look a bit like a fox otherwise we'd just have wasted time trying to calm the man down."

There was a flash of red and Guren stalked back and forth across his room. "I am not a pet," he growled.

Masahiro grinned. Finally. "Nope, you're not." He stepped into Guren's path and wound his arms around him.

Guren blinked down at him. "What?" His hands came to rest easily on Masahiro's back.

Masahiro laughed. "You're not a pet. You just spend a lot of time as Mokkun." His eyes danced as he leaned against Guren. "You're harder to kiss, that way."

After a long moment, Guren stated, half disbelieving, "You did that on purpose."

"Just a little," Masahiro admitted. "Besides, you're cute when you're Mokkun and annoyed."

"You are definitely Seimei's grandson," Guren told him, dryly. Masahiro sniffed at that, and Guren chuckled and drew him closer, leaning down to kiss him. Since that was exactly what Masahiro wanted, he made a contented sound and didn't bother to protest further.

Guren's hands were still large on his body as he carefully undid Masahiro's robes and slid them away, though not as large as they had seemed years ago. The years had also taught Masahiro where the fastenings of Guren's armor were and he sighed with pleasure when they were finally skin to skin.

"It's much easier to hug you without all that," he murmured into Guren's shoulder.

"I could go back to being Mokkun, if you want to hug me," Guren teased, voice low, and chuckled at Masahiro's glare.

"Don't you dare." Masahiro twined his arms around Guren's neck and pulled him down to another kiss, for emphasis. Guren answered him quite satisfyingly this time, and eased him down onto his bed.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Shounen Onmyouji, Guren/Masahiro, not a pet (Continued) - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 05:19 pm UTC
Re: Shounen Onmyouji, Guren/Masahiro, not a pet (Continued) - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:42 pm UTC
Re: Shounen Onmyouji, Guren/Masahiro, not a pet (Continued) - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:59 pm UTC
Re: Shounen Onmyouji, Guren/Masahiro, not a pet (Continued) - [info]dancing_serpent, 2008-09-19 02:53 am UTC
Re: Shounen Onmyouji, Guren/Masahiro, not a pet (Continued) - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-19 12:20 pm UTC
Appaloosa, Everett/Virgil, the things they don't say
[info]the_reverand
2008-09-18 05:22 pm UTC (link)
(Written for a film that has not yet been released and a book I have not read. So, you know, take that into consideration.)

Once, in Boulder, Everett caught a bullet in his leg. Doc cut his pants up to the wound in his thigh and put Virgil's hands above where the blood seeped out, impossibly dark and copious, and told him to press, press hard, and hold there. Virgil did so, watching Everett's face so as not to see the blood which usually wouldn't bother him. Watching Everett clench his jaw through the pain, cry out at last when he could no longer keep it in inside him, and go limp with unconcsiouseness when even that would not suffice. And still he held, fingers aching and stiff, and watched, until the doc touched his hand and said "alright, son". When Everett finally woke and called Virgil by name, Virgil felt dizzy and could not stand, and only said "right here," from where he sat leaning back in a chair.

On the way to Appaloosa they spent a night on a ranch of some distant relation of Everett's not seen since childhood. They shared a room and a bed and Virgil woke in the night when a hand touched his arm. He didn't know what made him sure the touch was not meant to wake him, nor possibly even to be felt, but he only stared at the wall he faced, lit bright by a summer moon through a large window, and wondered about many things. After a short time the hand left him and Everett shifted behind him, but Virgil did not sleep again and at the first harsh shadow he put his feet on the floor. Over coffee the rancher asked if they slept well and Virgil said that they had.

In Appaloosa they stayed in the same hotel, rooms apart but within calling distance. When they had been there a week Everett came to Virgil's door in the late evening, his polite knock unmistakable, and Virgil called him in without looking up from his writing.

"Moon's bright," Everett said, hat in hand, waiting just inside the room for Virgil to look up at him.

Virgil could see the bright street outside the window near where he sat. He looked up and said, "It is."

"Good night for a ride," Everett said, a question beneath the statement.

The man at the livery seemed accustom to being woken so late. They rode their horses through town, the thouroughfare only sparsely peopled, then out of town on a well-used wagon road, and further until Everett spied a cattle trail and they followed it down a sloping valley and along the foothills, brush grown high but for where the cattle had tread it down or cropped it short, and stopped beneath an overhang, ground choked with indian grass and columbine.

Under shelter of the mountain the moon showed less bright, but on such an evening there was still light plenty for them to undress neatly, quietly, and for Virgil to see Everett place his hands against the rockface and look just slightly over his shoulder to where Virgil stood. The evening carried a chill but their bodies held warmth enough and to spare once they were together, enough so that Virgil's hands slipped on Everett's hip, with sweat and urgency. Neither man cried out, unheard by the world at large. Even their horses cropping grass nearby paid them no mind. They moved unacompanied and unwitnessed save by the crickets and other crawling life, and the ever watchful moon.

(Continued in reply)

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Appaloosa, Everett/Virgil, the things they don't say - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 05:23 pm UTC
Re: Appaloosa, Everett/Virgil, the things they don't say - [info]mrkinch, 2008-09-18 08:44 pm UTC
Re: Appaloosa, Everett/Virgil, the things they don't say - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 09:02 pm UTC
Re: Appaloosa, Everett/Virgil, the things they don't say - [info]helens78, 2008-09-29 05:04 pm UTC
Re: Appaloosa, Everett/Virgil, the things they don't say - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-30 09:22 am UTC
Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:27 pm UTC (link)
D looked around, fascinated. The doors of the shop went to many strange places, but they rarely took him into dream realms. The strange proportions of the granite walls, in this place, the odd plants and creatures, all spoke to him of dreams, though, and he wondered why he was here.

The shop doors never opened at random.

"Who are you?"

The man who stepped out of the air was... not exactly a man. D tilted his head. "I am called Count D. And you?"

After a moment's hesitation the man said, slowly, "I am Jareth, the Goblin King." His thin lips twisted. "Without much of a kingdom anymore, I admit."

So. D looked around, curiously. "This world seems robust," he murmured, asking without asking as was only polite.

The goblin waved a dismissive hand. "The world, yes. Creatures live here. But my magic was broken." His eyes were distant and dispassionate as he added, "I suspect I will fade soon."

"Much that is magic can be mended," D suggested delicately.

Jareth laughed, bleak and sharp and wild. "I haven't the strength any longer to find anyone who can sustain me."

"What is required?" D asked, quiet and even.

Pale, feral eyes focused on him. There was long hunger in them and D spread his hands, serenely, offering.

Given the setting, he was not entirely surprised when Jareth stepped closer, sliding one hand into his hair, tipped his head back and kissed him. He spread his hands against Jareth's chest, acquiescent. The shop would not have shown him this place if he were not needed.

"Normally," Jareth murmured in his ear, tone ironic, "I would sweep you off to my castle at this point. I'm afraid that's not possible, right now."

"Quite all right," D murmured, suppressing a smile. "I'm sure we can find something suitable." He took a small step back, hands stroking over Jareth's shoulders, down his arms.

Jareth looked at him for a long moment, unreadable, before he snorted softly. This time the twist to his mouth was wry as he followed D, step by step back through the door. Across the hall another door fell open and D backed toward it, short, quick steps that turned Jareth's gaze predatory.

When Jareth swept him up and laid him down on the huge, low bed, D had to stifle an outright chuckle. He didn't know whether his newest acquisition understood what was really happening, yet, but he was starting to think that the Goblin King might not care. "You've caught me," he said, softly, fishing for what it was, exactly, that Jareth needed.

"Yes," Jareth kissed down the line of D's throat. His hands stroked over D's body, tracing the lines of him faultlessly through the fabric of his robes. "Give yourself to me," he whispered.

"Yes," D answered, opening his mouth under Jareth's kisses, pressing against him, answering his hands. It was no more than he did for any animal in the shop, in the end.

Jareth kissed him fiercely, caught him close, lay over him as if to shelter, or perhaps separate, him from the rest of the world, and D was pliant and willing in his arms. And finally, Jareth unwound, over him, breathing out, and slumped against D's shoulder.

D smiled, soft and sad, and stroked his wild hair back, kissing his brow gently. "We'll find you proper sustenance, here," he murmured.

"You are of my kind." Jareth didn't lift his head, voice low and undone.

It was D's turn to smile a bit wryly. "Somewhat. My line is made of darker stuff than dreams, even yours."

Now Jareth lifted himself and looked down at D, eyes gleaming. "I am servant to your dreams, for now."

"My dream is your life." D met those sharp eyes steadily and they gentled. Jareth lay down again, beside him, acquiescent in his turn, slowly relaxing into sleep.

D lay awake and turned over in his mind plans for finding his newest guest a suitable human.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]ladynero, 2008-09-18 05:46 pm UTC
Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 05:51 pm UTC
Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]white_aster, 2008-09-18 06:15 pm UTC
Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:33 pm UTC
Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:40 pm UTC
Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:58 pm UTC
Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]mitsuhachi, 2008-09-18 10:04 pm UTC
Re: Petshop of Horrors/Labyrinth, D/Jareth, what dreams are made of - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 11:06 pm UTC
Prince of Tennis, Yukimura/Sanada, traditional dress
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:28 pm UTC (link)
Seiichi liked how Genichirou looked in traditional clothing. The falling lines of a kimono or even yukata displayed Genichirou's broad shoulders and straight height, reminded everyone who watched of the power waiting in that still, composed figure.

The crisply wrapped fabric hid the long muscles that a shirt and shorts showed, but that very thing invited anyone who had watched Genichirou play, who had seen that much of him uncovered, to imagine the sleek, hard flex of his body from shoulder right to ankle, all of one, bare piece under the cloth.

And wrapped cloth was so easy to draw aside.

He swallowed Genichirou's husky sound, pressing him back against the smooth wood of the wall, one hand slipping inside Genichirou's clothes to tug loose his equally traditional underthings and close firmly around his cock.

"Seiichi," Genichirou gasped, hips pushing into Seiichi's hand, "I should be inside."

"You should be right here," Seiichi murmured against Genichirou's throat, drawing his tongue up the taut line of tendon. He stroked his thumb back and forth over Genichirou's head and smiled as Genichirou's hands worked on his shoulders. "Your grandfather can hold this reception without you for a bit."

He caught Genichirou's mouth again, stroking Genichirou's tongue slowly with his own, deliberate contrast to his demanding grip on Genichirou's cock. He savored the openness of Genichirou's moan, and the texture of his cock in Seiichi's hand, hard and thick, and the way Genichirou leaned against the wall and let his hips buck into Seiichi's hand as he came.

Seiichi took in the sight of Genichirou flushed and breathless, kimono pulled open over strong, bare thighs, and stored it away to see him through the next couple hours of a rather boring reception. Genichirou's mouth quirked and he shook his head as he re-ordered his clothes before pulling Seiichi close for another kiss.

"I should stop having you invited to occasions when I have to dress like this," he murmured into Seiichi's mouth.

Seiichi laughed. "Don't you like the effect it has?"

Genichirou's stern expression was spoiled by the gleam in his eyes. "Afterwards."

"I suppose I can save up, then." The outside lamps flashed on teeth as they smiled at each other and turned to go back inside.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Prince of Tennis, Yukimura/Sanada, traditional dress - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:37 pm UTC
Re: Prince of Tennis, Yukimura/Sanada, traditional dress - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:50 pm UTC
Prince of Tennis, Yukimura/Kirihara, elemental
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:29 pm UTC (link)
When Seiichi-san made love to him it was pure and intense and wiped Akaya's mind clean of everything but the body over him, inside him, the hands spread against his back, the dip of Seiichi-san's dark head over him.

And the heat.

It almost wasn't even pleasure. It was sensation, the trembling of nerves screaming a pure signal of yes, the tingle in muscles stretched and flexed, the throb of his cock rubbing against Seiichi-san's stomach with bright flashes of heat that burst up his spine until they were light behind his eyes.

It was Yukimura Seiichi.

And Akaya gave himself to it completely, gladly, opening his hands to let the rest of existence flutter away and closing them instead on the firm, long muscles of Seiichi-san's arms, letting his body flex and buck, wild and abandoned, as Seiichi-san's cock drove into him again and again, letting himself scream as the heat finally condensed and exploded through his whole body.

It was incredible, hot and brilliant and overwhelming. There was nothing else quite like it, and it wrung Akaya out like a rag every time, left him breathless and lax and a little dazed. But it was the next part he thought he might love the most.

Because Seiichi-san gathered him up, held him tight and shuddered against him, whispering Akaya's name. And Seiichi-san didn't let go, just slid back and close again, cradling Akaya against him and kissing him softly until Akaya was pliant and trembling in his arms, more undone by the tenderness than by all the wild sensation. This was what he clung to.

It was Seiichi-san.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Prince of Tennis, Yukimura/Kirihara, elemental - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:34 pm UTC
Re: Prince of Tennis, Yukimura/Kirihara, elemental - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:49 pm UTC
Prince of Tennis, Tezuka/Atobe, languid
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:30 pm UTC (link)
It was Kunimitsu's personal discovery. If Keigo was petted for long enough he unwound, forgot to be driven and arrogant, and relaxed into a languid sprawl of limbs, lounging against Kunimitsu's chest for hours at a time without protest.

"Mmmmm." Keigo pressed closer as Kunimitsu rubbed the back of his neck slowly. "Keep doing that."

Well, perhaps he didn't entirely forget about being imperious and demanding.

Keigo opened one eye, looking up at Kunimitsu with lazy suspicion. "What's so amusing?"

"Nothing." Kunimitsu leaned down and kissed him gently.

"Mmm. Well good," Keigo murmured against his mouth, twining slow arms around his shoulders. "Now make love to me some more."

Kunimitsu laughed quietly. No, Keigo never really forgot to be imperious. "Very well." He stroked his hands down Keigo's body, slowly, savoring the sleekness of his skin and the solid warmth of him. Keigo arched wantonly into his hands, nearly purring. He was irresistible, like this, openly reveling in sensuality, and the sound he made as Kunimitsu spread his thighs apart went straight to Kunimitsu's groin.

He kissed down Keigo's throat, open mouthed, tasting his skin, and Keigo tipped his head back, stretching out against the sheets and making little murmurs of pleasure as Kunimitsu's fingers gently opened him again.

When Kunimitsu slid into him, slow and slick, they both moaned.

The hot grip of Keigo's body closed around him and Kunimitsu's hips found their own rhythm, steady and hard. Pleasure shivered through him and he gasped as Keigo smiled, eyes dark and drowsy, and rocked up into his thrusts. He closed a hand on Keigo's cock, stroking firmly, wanting the entire pleasure, and watched Keigo draw taut, abandoned to sensation, and moan as his body clenched around Kunimitsu's cock.

He caught Keigo up, lifting him, driving into him faster, deeper, and Keigo's lazy purr was the last thing it took to send pleasure burning through him, wild and sweet.

They settled back against the pillows, twined around each other, and Kunimitsu rubbed a slow hand up and down Keigo's back, soothing him back into perfect relaxation.

If he was careful, they could be here all afternoon. And Kunimitsu tried never to be careless in anything.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Prince of Tennis, Tezuka/Atobe, languid - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:33 pm UTC
Re: Prince of Tennis, Tezuka/Atobe, languid - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:37 pm UTC
Re: Prince of Tennis, Tezuka/Atobe, languid - [info]seregil_1982, 2008-09-28 03:58 pm UTC
Re: Prince of Tennis, Tezuka/Atobe, languid - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-28 07:33 pm UTC
Bleach, Aizen/Ichimaru, fealty
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:31 pm UTC (link)
Gin stood at the broad window, looking out on Hueca Mundo. "Such a strange place," he mused.

"Strange enough to regret coming?" his captain murmured from the couch behind him, and Gin turned, lifting a brow.

"You brought us here," he pointed out in a tone of innocent surprise.

"Answer me, Gin." Aizen's tone was cool, but his mouth was quirked faintly.

"I just did." Gin leaned against the sill, head cocked teasingly. They played this game of perfect respect and sly defiance, and he always looked forward to seeing how Aizen would end it.

After a moment, Aizen chuckled and held out a hand, beckoning and commanding, and Gin game to it. He let himself be pulled down to the couch and laid back on the thin, soft cushion, smiling.

"So you'll follow me anywhere," Aizen stated, hands sliding under Gin's coat to find the ties of his white hakama.

"Everywhere," Gin agreed, and smirked as Aizen lifted his bare leg over the back of the couch. He wiggled his toes cheerfully and listened for the stiff, stifled silence of the two arrancar girls who attended the door, who were just as infatuated with Aizen as little Hinamori had been. Likely to the same end. The high couch back would block most of their view, but that was all right. For most people, imagination was stronger than reality.

Not that he really needed extra reason to moan as his captain's cock pushed into him, but it added a little something.

Other thoughts faded away, though, as Aizen spread him out and fucked him, held him all the while with intense, inhuman eyes, sharp enough, heavy enough, to plane the surface of space and time flat. Gin gasped under them. Every thrust rocked him, curled his spine, and Aizen's strong, square hands held his thighs stretched as wide open as they'd go.

Aizen never held back in any way, and Gin loved that.

"Making sure of me?" he asked, husky.

"I'm quite sure of you," Aizen murmured back.

Gin finally shuddered and gasped with the rush of heat through him and Aizen smiled, intent and unruffled. He fucked Gin firmly for another few moments, keeping him opened up, before drawing back. Gin could never tell when, whether, Aizen had come, and he loved that control, too.

Aizen leaned over him, one hand curving around the back of Gin's head, carelessly gentle, and kissed him, and the sound Gin made, low in his throat, had nothing of teasing in it--only surrender.

Picking up the conversation as if they hadn't paused, Aizen murmured, "So, will you be the first before my throne?"

Gin savored the ambiguity of the question and looked up into his leader's brilliant, distant, immediate gaze for one bare moment, stripped and exultant.

"Yes."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Bleach, Aizen/Ichimaru, fealty - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:28 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Aizen/Ichimaru, fealty - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:35 pm UTC
Bleach, Byakuya/Renji, cold and hot
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-18 05:33 pm UTC (link)
Renji lay stretched out on his stomach, on his futon and gasped as long fingers traced slowly over his tattoos.

"Byakuya-san..."

Cool lips brushed over the nape of his neck. "Shhhh."

Renji buried his face in the crook of his arm, pretty sure he was blushing like a girl at the reassurance or command, whichever it was. He knew Byakuya wasn't actually much older than him--a few decades was very little, by the standards of nobles and shinigami--but that icy control always made him feel older. Not that "ice" was something a person would normally think of in a moment like this, but it wasn't that kind of cold... He lost the thought as fingertips slid down his spine and there was a little pleading in his voice this time. "Byakuya-san!"

He sighed as body heat covered him, Byakuya's weight settling against his back, steadying him. A palm stroked up his neck, moving his loose hair aside, and a hot tongue slid over the marks on his shoulders and he moaned softly. They'd been here for over an hour and every inch of his skin was touch-sensitive by now. "Byakuya-san, please..."

"So impatient, Renji," Byakuya murmured.

In bed, at least, he could be pretty sure that was teasing and not reprimand. And, yes, Byakuya's mouth was curving against his skin and he heard a faint chiming. Turning his head he saw Byakuya dipping his fingers in the small cup of oil set beside them in the sun to warm. His breath came deeper and he couldn't help squirming a little as Byakuya's fingers brushed his ass, stroking that oil over himself. Anticipation caught in his throat as Byakuya edged his legs apart with his knees and long, slim hands closed on his hips, holding him still.

And then Byakuya was pushing against him, into him, fraction by fraction, so very slowly, and Renji's hands closed tight on the quilt under him. He moaned openly as Byakuya's cock slowly, slowly stretched him open, slid into him, and he had no clue how the man managed to go so slow. His hips would have been bucking up helplessly if Byakuya hadn't held them down. "Byakuya-san!"

Byakuya paused, he actually stopped, and asked, only breathless, "Yes, Renji?"

His ass tingled with the fierce, slow stretch and his whole body throbbed with want. "Don't stop!"

"Very well, then," Byakuya murmured, husky, and he was moving again, until he was all the way inside and Renji was panting for breath past the flood of sheer sensation.

Renji didn't know how long Byakuya fucked him like that, slow and controlled, sliding and thrusting in and out until Renji's whole body was hot and undone with it and he was moaning wordlessly into the quilt. When he spilled over the edge into orgasm, he almost didn't notice; it was just a change in the texture of pleasure that was already drowning him.

He did notice when Byakuya shuddered, buried deep inside him, and moaned, and dazed as he was that sound still made his breath catch. He smiled as Byakuya settled against his back again, arms sliding around him.

"You're warm," Byakuya murmured against his shoulder.

"Yeah," Renji whispered.

He knew it wasn't body heat Byakuya was talking about.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Bleach, Byakuya/Renji, cold and hot - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:26 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Byakuya/Renji, cold and hot - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:34 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Byakuya/Renji, cold and hot - [info]seregil_1982, 2008-09-28 03:21 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Byakuya/Renji, cold and hot - [info]seregil_1982, 2008-09-28 03:34 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Byakuya/Renji, cold and hot - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-28 07:35 pm UTC
Loveless, Natsuo/Youji, can you feel this?
[info]wei_jiangling
2008-09-18 05:39 pm UTC (link)
It was hard watching them sometimes, Soubi and Ritsuka. They weren't a couple, not really, but the bore so many of the physical hallmarks. Kisses, touches... And while Ritsuka always seemed to shy away from such things, it was obvious. When Soubi touched him, he felt something.

That wasn't something that normally would have bothered them. They were used to not feeling, and knowing that almost everyone they ever met did. They saw people reacting to things they felt all the time. It wasn't unusual. But there was just something about having the fact shoved in your face constantly...

It was thus that they found themselves in this situation, Natsuo bent down on the floor, Youji behind him, conducting an experiment of sorts. They knew they didn't really respond to the feeling of touch, nor to a sense of pain, no matter how intense. But now it occurred to them that there was something they hadn't tried. Had they ever, really, tried to find something that was supposed to feel intensely pleasant? Maybe that would be different.

It was Youji who finally took the initiative and ventured to poke a finger into Natsuo's bared rear. He did so almost cautiously, watching for a reaction. Natsuo simply shook his head.

"Nothing," he commented. "It'll have to be more. Or harder. Or something." Youji nodded, despite the fact that Natsuo clearly wouldn't be able to see the gesture at present. This time he tried two fingers, a bit faster, a bit deeper inside. Natsuo shook his head again.

"Nothing more than I can sort of tell there's something there." But that, of course, was normal. They could always tell when something was near them. Otherwise they would be surprised by things, or bump into them. Youji sighed.

"Maybe I'm just not doing it right," he suggested, and quickly worked his way out of his own garments. One more thing to try. In one quick motion, he shoved his length into Natsuo's rear. If any of this was going to work, that was it, right?

"Feel anything now?"

"No," Natsuo replied, starting to sound frustrated. Youji pulled out and pushed back in a few times. Natsuo remained still aside from the force of Youji bumping against him.

"Now?" he asked frustratedly. Natsuo shook his head and moved to sit facing Youji.

"Not really," he informed his partner, and went about getting his clothes back on. "How about you?" Youji frowned in an obvious display of disappointment, likewise grabbing for his discarded pants.

"Me either..."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Loveless, Natsuo/Youji, can you feel this? - [info]dancing_serpent, 2008-09-19 03:34 am UTC
Re: Loveless, Natsuo/Youji, can you feel this? - [info]wei_jiangling, 2008-09-19 09:34 am UTC
Loveless, Seimei/Ritsuka, the only clean thing
[info]wei_jiangling
2008-09-18 05:40 pm UTC (link)
It wasn't odd for the brothers to take a bath together-- they had for as long as Ritsuka could remember. Nor was it odd for Seimei to gently wash his younger brother's back and for Ritsuka to take comfort in the touch.

It was odd, however, that this time Seimei's hands seemed to be venturing lower than usual.

"Seimei, what are you doing?" Ritsuka asked as he felt a hand on his rear, turning slightly to shoot his brother a sidelong glance.

"Washing you," Seimei replied nonchalantly, though he had a sort of smile on his face that hinted at something mischievous.

"But you don't usually--" Ritsuka began to protest, but stopped abruptly as a finger probed inside him, ever so slightly. "Seimei?"

And in the blink of an eye, Seimei was no longer touching him. In fact, he was out of the bath, quickly drying himself off. Ritsuka could do nothing but blink in confusion as Seimei wrapped a towel around himself and reaching for the door.

"Keep your ears," was all he said, in a voice no louder than a whisper, before shutting the door behind him.

Ritsuka sunk into the bath, hiding his red face, and stared at the door wondering if Seimei was beginning to think that his own ears were a bad thing.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Loveless, Seimei/Ritsuka, the only clean thing - [info]ificouldfly, 2008-09-18 07:13 pm UTC
Re: Loveless, Seimei/Ritsuka, the only clean thing - [info]wei_jiangling, 2008-09-18 07:47 pm UTC
Re: Loveless, Seimei/Ritsuka, the only clean thing - [info]dancing_serpent, 2008-09-19 03:36 am UTC
Bleach, Uruhara/Yoruichi, cat toy
[info]wei_jiangling
2008-09-18 05:41 pm UTC (link)
When Yoruichi arrived, Urahara was waiting for her. He sat on the corner of the bed, wearing nothing but a terribly amused look on his face, and a string with a small stuffed mouse attached to it tied around his already hard cock. Yoruichi raised an eyebrow at the latter spectacle.

"You idiot," she commented, shaking her head, and knelt with the intention of removing the bit of mockery he happened to be wearing-- with her mouth. She let her tongue slide across his skin, eliciting a pleasant gasp from the man before grasping the end of the tie with her teeth and letting the mouse drop to the floor with the stereotypical squeak of a toy. She pulled back to shoot a glare at her companion, who simply shrugged and continued to look amused.

"I thought cats liked squeaky mice," he commented, which Yoruichi met with a raised eyebrow.

"Really..." And with that, she shifted into cat form and, having a somewhat different set of knowledge and skills than the average feline, crawled onto Urahara's lap and continued licking as she had before. The man squirmed uncomfortably under her, bringing some semblance of a smile to her now furry lips.

"Yoruichi...cats... rough tongue... hurts..." he sputtered, placing a hand on her in an attempt to move her away. She removed her tongue from him only long enough to reply, "You started it."

A moment passed in silence before Urahara spoke again.

"How about this. If you turn back to human form and do this right, I'll get you a kitty treat?"

Yoruichi bit him, and it took all of his effort not to scream.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Bleach, Uruhara/Yoruichi, cat toy - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:25 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Uruhara/Yoruichi, cat toy - [info]wei_jiangling, 2008-09-18 07:04 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Uruhara/Yoruichi, cat toy - [info]misura, 2008-09-21 06:22 am UTC
Initial D, Ryousuke/Keisuke, testing the suspension
[info]lysapadin
2008-09-18 06:22 pm UTC (link)
Midday, the day after another successful challenge, and he should have been resting, but Keisuke couldn't get to sleep. His nerves were jangling and he didn't quite know why, just that he felt at loose ends.

He let himself out of the van where everyone was trying to catch catnaps, sleeping what his brother called the sleep of the just, with the faintest of quirks to his lips. Aniki's humor was like that, there and gone again, like the flash of light on glass. Elusive. Hard to pin down.

That was Aniki all over, actually.

Keisuke ambled through their camp, irritated at not being able to sleep, at wanting something and not even knowing what that something was. It was a gorgeous day; the summer heat finally broken and the sky deep and blue over them, and he should have been sleeping, dead to the world and the splendors of autumn.

"You should be resting."

His brother's words echoed what he was thinking so closely that it took Keisuke a moment to register that they were coming from outside his head.

Aniki was leaning against his car, unmussed and impeccable even though he'd probably been up since the day before. Keisuke'd given up on figuring out how the man did it, even when they were on the road more often than not. He would have liked to have known what the trick was, especially for those days when they'd been driving for hours and he felt grimy just from sitting in his car for that long, breathing in the same recycled air over and over.

"So should you," Keisuke said, because it was the first thing that came into his head, and he was tired, and pissed off about being tired.

His temper didn't ruffle Aniki either. "I couldn't sleep," Aniki said, one shoulder rising a fraction above the other.

That punctured Keisuke's temper; he could feel it draining out of him. In its absence he felt even more tired, but his nerves were still crashing against each other. "Me either," he said. "Too much adrenaline, I guess. Beats the hell out of me how Fujiwara manages to sack out like he does."

Aniki smiled; just a faint ticking up of the corners of his mouth. "Fujiwara is exceptional," he murmured.

Rage stabbed through Keisuke at that, the way it nearly always did when Aniki looked like that, talked like that, about Fujiwara. Keisuke stifled it, like he always did. "Yeah."

Aniki looked at him. The camp was quiet, except for them and the breeze rustling the leaves over their heads. "Why don't you like Fujiwara?"

"I like Fujiwara just fine." Keisuke shrugged. "He's a good driver." A great driver, even, but that was something he couldn't bring himself to say out loud, just like he refused to admit that Fujiwara might have been better than him. That was something he could change, could fix, and Keisuke was fucking sure he would, sooner or later. It was just a matter of effort, that was all.

Aniki looked at him, reminding Keisuke, silently, that he'd always been shit at keeping secrets from his brother. Finally Aniki looked around their camp, and tipped his head at the car. "Come on," he said. "Let's go for a drive."

Keisuke wasn't stupid; he could tell that his brother had decided to pin him down about this. He wasn't an idiot, either, so he nodded and headed for the passenger side, because getting a chance to ride shotgun with Aniki wasn't something he was willing to pass up.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Initial D, Ryousuke/Keisuke, testing the suspension (cont.) - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:22 pm UTC
Re: Initial D, Ryousuke/Keisuke, testing the suspension (cont.) - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:23 pm UTC
Re: Initial D, Ryousuke/Keisuke, testing the suspension (cont.) - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:24 pm UTC
Re: Initial D, Ryousuke/Keisuke, testing the suspension (cont.) - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 06:48 pm UTC
Re: Initial D, Ryousuke/Keisuke, testing the suspension (cont.) - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 06:54 pm UTC
Ouran High School Host Club, Kaoru/Haruhi/Hikaru, work
(Anonymous)
2008-09-18 06:57 pm UTC (link)
[Mediocre and lame pr0n is mediocre and lame.]

They were on her the instant she walked in the door--Kaoru in front of her, unbuttoning her blazer, Hikaru to her side, pulling her hair out of its tight bun. She knew better than to make so much as a sound of protest, because that would only get them more riled up. "Besides," Hikaru would say, "we designed this outfit ourselves--"

"--for you!" Kaoru would add.

"So we're allowed to take it off whenever we want."

But she didn't complain, and they didn't say anything, except when they pulled her camisole off over her head--in tandem, like she was a bicycle they were going to ride (which, when she thought about it, wasn't too inaccurate a thought)--and Hikaru made a noise of surprise, as if he were seeing her half-naked for the first time. Which he wasn't--not even close.

Kaoru had the presence of mind to close the door behind her, and Haruhi and Hikaru of them stumbled into the living room with Hikaru attempting to remove his pants while dragging Haruhi along with him. Her shin bumped the coffee table and jostled his and Kaoru's sketches; there was going to be a bruise tomorrow.

Kaoru came behind her and unhooked her bra. "Welcome home," he said, pressed his lips to her shoulder.

"How was work today?" Hikaru asked, manoevuring her down onto the couch between him and his twin.

She kept her face deliberately blank and her body still even as Kaoru trailed a line of kisses down her back, which was normally guaranteed to make her shiver. "I won my case. Did you two get anything done?" she asked. Hikaru frowned and pushed up her skirt, half-rough, half-gentle, and made to yank her underwear off, except he ended up grabbing at nothing. Haruhi nearly broke down and smiled when he looked up into her eyes, shocked and grinning.

It was Kaoru who said, "We've been working on our evening gowns." Hikaru lay down on his stomach and spread her legs, and she shut her eyes at the feeling of his clever wet tongue between her legs.

"Is that so?" she said. Kaoru cupped her breasts in the palms of his hands and played with her nipples, lazy and unhurried in contrast to his brother's urgency. His fingertips, she noted, fighting the urge to grab Hikaru's hair and make him do it harder, were stippled with little scars from all the times he'd pricked himself sewing by hand. She could feel Kaoru's erection at the small of her back and she shifted a little to reach behind her and slip him out of his pants (she was not selfish), but he caught her hand and Hikaru's tongue finally made it to her clit and she bit back a moan. Kaoru--like he knew--pinched her nipple with his free hand and she turned around to kiss him, hard.

Kaoru smiled into her mouth and let go of her hand and unzipped his pants and then he broke the kiss and said, "We want you to model them for us. But now--"

Hikaru drew back, and Haruhi grabbed for his hair, but he smiled and moved out of reach and pulled her skirt off. "We'd prefer you wearing nothing at all."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Ouran High School Host Club, Kaoru/Haruhi/Hikaru, work - [info]shiegra, 2008-09-18 09:24 pm UTC
Re: Ouran High School Host Club, Kaoru/Haruhi/Hikaru, work - (Anonymous), 2008-09-20 03:33 pm UTC
Re: Ouran High School Host Club, Kaoru/Haruhi/Hikaru, work - [info]shiegra, 2008-09-20 04:18 pm UTC
Doctrine of Labyrinths Series, Felix/Mildmay, somnophilia, "his thighs, and his chest, and that scar
[info]ificouldfly
2008-09-18 06:59 pm UTC (link)
Mildmay knew that I wasn't asleep. I don't think he realized that it was the bond that caused him to wake up when I had insomnia, but he did, clumping out of his little bedroom while still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He didn't ask why I was awake, just asked if I wanted to play cards. I didn't, actually, but it was better than the two of us staring at the wall, so he got out the deck and we started on one of those endless games of long tiffany.

One game, two, five--I lost track after a while, just kept playing. I could see Mildmay's shuffling slowing, though, and finally I declared myself too tired to continue and sat back in my chair. Mildmay nodded and leaned back, watching me for a moment out of the corner of his eye. I gave him a smile I didn't mean and closed my eyes.

But I still couldn't sleep. With some strange paranoia, I just knew that when I did, it would only be to be swept down the Sim and into through the Septad Gate. After about ten minutes, I opened my eyes.

The fire was glowing embers by then, casting shadows about the room. Milmay was lit up equisitly, his cheekbones in sharp relief, the scar on his face even more stark than usual. He was wearing a night shirt with the buttons open at the top. I could see the top of his chest and the slight fuzz of hair that was just beginning to grow in. It looked soft in that glowing light.

He shifted slightly in his sleep and I caught my breath as his nightshirt slid up to show his thighs, muscular and hard, even in sleep. Thighs that I could only too well imagine wrapping around my waist as I thrust into him...

In his sleep, Mildmay's breath caught at something and sped up a little. I leaned forward, wanting to know what was making him frown like that, what was-

Oh. Oh my. Mildmay, right in front of me, in the sitting room with his nightshirt pulled up a little too much, was getting hard.

I stared, mouth hanging open. His cock was gorgeous, dark and wide and calling to me. I clenched my hands lest they reach out and touch it. Mildmay wouldn't like it. He isn't a moll.

"Mmh...but Felix-"

My hand touched his cock. I didn't realize what I was doing until my hand was wrapped around it and stroking.

"Unh, yeah..."

I wrapped my fingers more firmly and gave a little tug. His pelvis jerked in response, pushing forward into my hand. I was barely even breathing by this point. My other hand reached up and stroked his scar, something he would never let me do in real life. Real life. This couldn't be real; it was too good to be true. I stroked his erection a little harder and finally leaned down and kissed it. It was velvety soft, and I swirled my tongue around the tip, sucking slightly when he began to whimper. The sound made my own cock go hard, pressing tightly against my trousers, throbbing with heat.

My hand on his face trailed down to undo the remaining buttons on his nightshirt. Now I could nuzzle my face against his chest, in that bit of hair, and press my erection against his knee.

His breath was quick and shallow, his moans getting louder and louder until I knew he would come soon. One more stroke on his cock, hard and fast and then he was coming, all over my hand and trousers, letting out a moan so desperate that I nearly came myself. I nuzzled closer, feeling his cock begin to go soft in my hands, and looked up to see-

His eyes. Mildmay was awake. He was staring at my face, then slowly looking down to the mess on my hands and trousers. His eyes went wide as he took in it all.

"Oh fuck. You..."

"Yeah." He stared at me as the satisfaction began to clear from his eyes, leaving-

I tilted my head up and kiss him. He whimpered against my lips and then, slowly, willingly, opened his mouth and slid his tongue against mine.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Doctrine of Labyrinths Series, Felix/Mildmay, somnophilia, "his thighs, and his chest, and that - [info]mitsuhachi, 2008-09-18 10:10 pm UTC
Re: Doctrine of Labyrinths Series, Felix/Mildmay, somnophilia, "his thighs, and his chest, and that - [info]ificouldfly, 2008-09-19 06:29 pm UTC
Re: Doctrine of Labyrinths Series, Felix/Mildmay, somnophilia, "his thighs, and his chest, and that - [info]mitsuhachi, 2008-09-19 06:35 pm UTC
Bleach, Ikkaku/Yumichika, known for years
[info]lysapadin
2008-09-18 07:22 pm UTC (link)
Yumichika's face was dead-white and his eyes were so wide and dark they looked like they were taking up half his face. He looked, for the first time in all the time Ikkaku'd known him, like he was fucking terrified.

That wouldn't do at all.

"Moron," Ikkaku growled, and pushed Yumichika right up against the wall. Yumichika opened his mouth to say something that was probably going to be damned stupid, so Ikkaku took the tactical advantage and kissed him, hot and dirty, just the way he knew Yumichika liked it best.

It took Yumichika a second to get with the program, but then he was all over it, kissing back and twisting his hands in Ikkaku's uniform. Ikkaku growled, pleased, and slid his thigh between Yumichika's. Yumichika ground against him, and damn, he was already hard.

Ikkaku grinned and bit down on Yumichika's lower lip, sucking on it hard. Yumichika arched against him, pressing against him and rubbing off on him, shameless as a cat. Ikkaku ran a hand down his back and squeezed Yumichika's ass, and brushed his mouth along Yumichika's jaw. "Moron," he breathed, against Yumichika's ear. "I've known for years."

That was all it took; Yumichika arched and came with a choked-off shout. Ikkaku held him steady, just like he always did, and grinned against his throat, where he knew Yumichika's skin was sensitive enough to feel it. "Moron," he said again, for good measure.

"Oh, shut up," Yumichika said, and shoved at his shoulder. And then, "Oh my god, this is disgusting. Get off me, you ass, I have to clean up." And he sounded as prissy and pissed as ever.

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome," Ikkaku said, and stepped back, still grinning, especially at the baleful way Yumichika was glaring at the stain on his uniform. Yumichika flipped him off, not even looking. "So you know this means I'm going to kick your ass next time we're sparring and you try to hold out on me."

That startled Yumichika enough to distract him from his uniform, and he looked up. "Hold out on--" He stopped, and held Ikkaku's gaze, searching him for--fucked if Ikkaku knew what, exactly. Whatever it was, he must have found it, because after a minute, he nodded. "All right."

Ikkaku rolled his neck on his shoulders, popping it. "Yeah, good."

Yumichika snorted and produced a handkerchief from somewhere, and swiped at his uniform. It looked like a lost cause to Ikkaku, but he was a lot less fussy about those kinds of things than Yumichika was. After a moment, Yumichika said, very quietly, "Thanks."

"Forget it," Ikkaku said. "Nothing to thank me for."

That was what being partners was for.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Bleach, Ikkaku/Yumichika, known for years - [info]wei_jiangling, 2008-09-18 07:41 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Ikkaku/Yumichika, known for years - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 08:12 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Ikkaku/Yumichika, known for years - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 07:43 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Ikkaku/Yumichika, known for years - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 08:12 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Ikkaku/Yumichika, known for years - [info]darlingfox, 2008-09-20 01:12 pm UTC
Re: Bleach, Ikkaku/Yumichika, known for years - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-20 02:38 pm UTC
Prince of Tennis, Yuuta/Fuji, easier this way
[info]lysapadin
2008-09-18 07:34 pm UTC (link)
It was easier this way. Yuuta had the advantage of him in height, after all. Shuusuke had almost managed to resign himself to the fact that Yuuta always would, at this point. Yuuta had the longer legs and torso, and it was just plain easier for Shuusuke to let Yuuta draw him up on his knees, snugging Shuusuke's ass into the cradle of his hips as Yuuta's cock pressed into him, deep, stretching him hard. Those extra centimeters meant that Yuuta could fuck him like that, cock sliding in and out of Shuusuke, and still be able to press himself against Shuusuke's back and murmur in Shuusuke's ear: broken curses and soft gasps, promises of what Yuuta was going to do to him spilling from his lips as Shuusuke arched and flexed under him, panting open-mouthed at the delicious stretch of Yuuta's cock burned through him. It was easier, too, for Yuuta to wrap those long arms around Shuusuke, and slide one capable hand down Shuusuke's chest to fondle his cock, thumb circling slow and sure over the head until the sensation turned Shuusuke inside out and he came, shaking with the intensity of it.

After, it was easy and good to rest his forehead against his arms as Yuuta drew his hips higher, cock pounding into Shuusuke, and just let the hard thrusts send aftershocks of pleasure curling through him, until Yuuta's hands tightened on his hips and Yuuta groaned, rich and husky as he found his own pleasure.

Yuuta was always careful with him after, too, easing Shuusuke down again and cleaning him off, expression intent as he arranged Shuusuke against the pillows and then curled around him, protective. Shuusuke was content to let him do it, and even to snuggle closer once Yuuta was settled.

Shuusuke was sure, in one corner of his mind, that Yuuta would have yielded to him in all this, if Shuusuke had asked him too. But Shuusuke made up his mind, a long time ago, that he wouldn't ask that of his brother. If Yuuta couldn't direct this, Shuusuke was certain, then his brother wouldn't be so easy with himself about it.

And that, Shuusuke knew, right down to his bones, would have been a damn shame.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Prince of Tennis, Yuuta/Fuji, easier this way - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-18 07:46 pm UTC
Re: Prince of Tennis, Yuuta/Fuji, easier this way - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-18 08:14 pm UTC
Fruits Basket, Akito/Shigure, always the villian in this play.
[info]wei_jiangling
2008-09-18 07:37 pm UTC (link)
Shigure tries to visit Akito on a regular basis. They were close once-- in many ways, they still are. Shigure knows because despite the various hurts that have come between them, it's still his shoulder Akito cries on, and it's still him that ends up comforting her.

---

This time she was lonely. She didn't say it, and she didn't ask, but the way she grabbed him and gave him a look both pleading and demanding said enough. He wasn't forgiven, far from it, but he was going to make up for some of the pain-- so said her eyes. And he knew equally well that there was no place here for protests, or for words at all. So he kissed her, deeply, and felt her body tense against him and relax, and move to pull him down on top of her.

It was only a moment before clothes were discarded in favor of skin, and he was remembering the feeling of her skin and the way she sighed when he touched the breasts she kept so carefully hidden from everyone else. It was almost funny, he thought-- only around him did she not seem to mind being a woman.

His hands ventured lower, parting her legs, reaching between them. She was already wet; she still felt for him, or she was starved for physical attention, or both. Most likely the latter, though he wasn't sure which of the former was the stronger factor. He would contemplate it later, sometime when he didn't have the privilege of touching her and had only his thoughts to keep him company. As for now, what mattered was the fact that he was stroking her gently, and it was making her writhe with pleasure.

He pressed one finger inside her, eliciting a soft moan. She was quiet-- of course, she wouldn't want anyone to hear, and the walls were thin. He could smile at the fact that he'd gotten that much out of her. He ventured to add another finger, and this time she just looked at him in silence.

Her eyes no longer held anger. For this moment, all the drama had been put aside and there was nothing there but them and the moment and pleasure, and were the look on her face to be given words, it would say nothing more than "please." And it was an unspoken request Shigure was all too happy to obey. He removed his fingers, taking a moment to lick them clean and enjoy her taste before replacing them with his length. His ears picked up another quiet moan, and he smiled.

From there it was a flurry, gentle and loving, but fast and intense. Thought gave way to motion, their bodies moving up and down, pressing together and pulling apart, feeling one another as deeply as possible. She came around him, and that in turn pushed him over the edge. Afterward, they laid there for a long time, just wrapped in each other's arms, and savored the rare moment of everything feeling right.

---

But, in the end, there always comes a time when he has to go home. And as he walks away, Akito's voice follows him, screaming that he doesn't love her, he only visits to humor her, he's horrible, he never wants to stay. And he goes home and writes stories about happy romances and endings that always wind up working out, because in the story of his own life, he seems doomed to always be the villain.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Fruits Basket, Akito/Shigure, always the villian in this play. - [info]sakru909, 2008-09-20 04:05 am UTC
Re: Fruits Basket, Akito/Shigure, always the villian in this play. - [info]etrangere, 2008-09-23 10:09 am UTC
RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch
[info]the_reverand
2008-09-18 08:30 pm UTC (link)
(Absolutely not how it happened, folks.

Through my window I can see the traffic on the street below and the yellow taxis line up and dart out and dominate what little flow there is so that I'm surprised when a knock on my door interrupts my business of the afternoon which is to masturbate while reading a first edition copy of Howl even though I'm still in my Armani suit from the press conference I had hours ago.

The man standing there is dressed in a suit almost identical to mine only his tie is blue with yellow polka dots and mine is red with pinstripes and although something tells me this is not his usual attire he wears it like skin. I recognize the face after a moment and invite him in.

"I'm Christian."

"I'm Jewish."

"No, I mean-"

"I know. I'm not really Jewish anyway."

He wants my blessing to play Bateman, my horrible Patrick, though I don't know why he's asking me. They didn't like my script. He should talk to the woman. I tell him this and he says she's the one who contacted him and he tells me so in a very precise manner which I have to assume is not his own but is quite well affected and emphasized by the most perfect set of teeth I have ever seen.

"Look, I..." he says, setting his jaw and running a freshly manicured hand through newly cropped hair. He's sweating though it's cool in the room and I actually glance at the thermostat to make sure I haven't simply caught a chill.

"It would mean a lot to me..." he continues, and I'm sure he's going to say something else but he doesn't.

"There's sex, you know," I say, "in her script. Not as much as in mine. Not as much murder as in mine either. Or drugs. Or name brands." I feel I'm rattling on and I am almost embarrassed but he seems to be listening with such sincerity that it passes.

"I like sex," he says. "Having it... and pretending to," he is grinning sort of desperately and I'm not sure he isn't going to cry, and I'm not sure I might not also, simply for having my own character standing before me in such nicely tanned flesh, grinning back at me from behind such beautiful teeth. "I could show you," he says.

There is no camera and no coathangers and when he asks me to dance for him I only put my hands in my pockets but he is not discouraged and when I'm naked he fucks me on the bed from behind and shows me his muscles and keeps his shoes on and his tie. His cock smells like expensive soap and tastes like moisturizer and he holds me by my head as I go down on him, keeps me in his own rhythm, faster than I'm used to and I choke a little as he tells me how many sit-ups he does each day and what he might do to me if only he had corkscrew and some motor oil.

He doesn't hurt me but he tells me he wants to and I tell him it might be nice if he did.

The black silk sheets are ruined by the time we've finished and he cleans himself off with them and dresses like I'm not in the room. I wonder how far I'd have to go to find the man that isn't Patrick but I'm not that motivated and when I ask about films he says the last movie he saw was Stand by Me.

"A poignant coming of age story about four friends, portraying a journey not only to find the body of a missing boy, but also to learn the importance of friendship, loyalty, and that no man, or boy, is an island."

I can't help myself. I smile.

"Hey Chrstian," I say once he's at my door, straightening his tie and swabbing sweat from his brow.

"Yes, Bret," he says.

"If I don't see you before thanksgiving," I stop, waiting for nothing, "have a nice one?"

He looks at me for a moment before replying tonelessly, "You too."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]mrkinch, 2008-09-18 08:53 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 08:59 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]telesilla, 2008-09-18 09:01 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-18 09:19 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - (Anonymous), 2008-09-19 12:57 am UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-19 06:21 am UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - (Anonymous), 2008-09-19 08:27 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]mllesatine, 2008-09-19 05:06 am UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-19 06:30 am UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]anatsuno, 2008-09-19 02:41 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-19 07:28 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]kyuuketsukirui, 2008-09-19 04:57 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-19 07:29 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]kyuuketsukirui, 2008-09-19 07:35 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-20 07:04 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - (Anonymous), 2008-09-20 02:58 am UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-20 09:11 am UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]helens78, 2008-09-20 04:32 pm UTC
Re: RPF, Christian Bale/Bret Easton Ellis, casting couch - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-20 05:57 pm UTC
Death Note, Misa/female!L, a proper lady
[info]cuddlesquid.livejournal.com
2008-09-18 09:45 pm UTC (link)
It's not that she doesn't love Light. Light is her world, her everything, her knight in shining armor. But he keeps her at arm's length, even in his most loving moments, and sometimes she just gets itchy.

Especially since Ryuzaki keeps looking at her, kohl-dark eyes fixed and unblinking.

Misa wonders occasionally whether Light has noticed that Ryuzaki has no adam's apple, that in certain lights and at certain angles there are hints of a feminine build under that loose white shirt. Not that she herself takes much interest. It's just something she notices, that's all.

After a few weeks, when the investigative team decides to put a few more feet of slack in the thin chain that connects Light and Ryuzaki's handcuffs and Misa can count the number of times Light's kissed her on one hand, the stir-crazy feeling of wanting more than this big empty building and a cloud of sweet empty flirting.

She goes upstairs with her makeup bag and marches straight into Ryuzaki's room, being careful not to let herself get clotheslined by the chain.

Ryuzaki is sitting near the door, all hunched over, a book held delicately in one hand and a half-eaten strawberry in the other.

"Light-kun is in the other room--" Ryuzaki manages, but Misa shakes her head.

"Look, I know, okay? About what you are."

Ryuzaki blinks.

Misa grabs the slender, un-cuffed wrist in one hand, hauls her to her feet. The book drops to the floor. Ryuzaki looks uncertain and distinctly uncomfortable, almost angry--and then she sees the lipstick in Misa's other hand, and freezes.

"That's not necessary," she says.

"The hell it's not. Do you know how sick it makes me to see a girl who doesn't take care of herself? Honestly, it's enough to drive you nuts! Tokyo's one of the fashion capitals of the world and here you are bumming around like some kind of--of--" Misa's so thoroughly, inexplicably mad she has to cut herself off and just start in with the makeup before she goes on some kind of ranting bender.

Ryuzaki's lips are thin and warm, and when Misa applies the lipstick her mouth practically glows red against china-pale skin. She's not really pretty, not in a conventional way, but with her complexion and her hair and the odd sharpness of her features, she could be like a Victorian illustration of Snow White: gothic, nearly consumptive, bizarrely appealing.

If she stood up straight, if the curve of her spine could be corrected and someone in the fashion district could find the right foam of frills to drape over her skinny frame, she could almost be a proper lady.

Misa likes the thought.

She lets go of Ryuzaki's wrist, flattens her hand against one thin shoulder to push Ryuzaki upright. She's so tall, and the sweeping arch of her neck fills Misa with sudden envy and a frustrated want she can't control.

When Ryuzaki drags the strawberry across her lips (cool and sweet and wet) with a softly murmured "I like this color better," Misa feels her hands go numb.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Death Note, Misa/female!L, a proper lady (cont'd) - [info]cuddlesquid.livejournal.com, 2008-09-18 09:45 pm UTC
Re: Death Note, Misa/female!L, a proper lady (cont'd) - (Anonymous), 2008-09-18 09:54 pm UTC
Re: Death Note, Misa/female!L, a proper lady (cont'd) - [info]annotated_em, 2008-09-19 07:09 am UTC

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