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

(Post a new comment)

Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire
[info]branchandroot
2008-09-23 12:39 pm UTC (link)
Zechs sighed against Treize's shoulder. "If all the world were like you, maybe it would work."

Treize's chuckle vibrated through his chest. "There's a weight to put on me."

Zechs snorted. "Most of your soldiers would think it true and possible." He leaned up one one elbow, looking down seriously. "You took me in too, you know. I thought you could control everything. That you could shape all of OZ because you shone so bright."

Treize's lifted a hand, running his fingers through Zechs' hair. "I hoped I could," he murmured.

Zechs slipped back down with an exasperated sigh. "Your own fault, then, if I blamed you personally."

"Perhaps." Treize drew him closer. "But you know that war will never leave us. That being so, should we not seek to make it a bright, just thing?"

"I don't think we can," Zechs whispered, hand spread against Treize's chest. His mouth quirked, a shade bitterly. "That being so, should we not seek to see that people remember how hideous it is for as long as possible before we have to learn again?"

"But you know that brightness, that nobility. You've felt it." Treize's voice was low and intense with the perfect surety that captured everyone around him, including, Zechs had to admit, himself.

"I've felt it," he agreed slowly, careful not to meet Treize's eyes while he was feeling his way toward a truth. "But... not in war. Only in... in duels of honor." He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, and repeated quietly, "If all the world were like you, then yes."

It was Treize's turn to lean over him, smiling ruefully. "Perhaps you're right." While Zechs stared at him, taken quite by surprise, he wound his fingers into Zechs' hair and kissed him, slow and deep. "Not even our honor and strength could stop the dishonorable from ruling," he murmured into Zechs' mouth. "So. Perhaps, instead, we must serve those who do stop them."

Zechs relaxed all at once, light-headed with relief that he would not be called on to fight that battle again, that his oldest friend would hear reason. "I will serve that ideal willingly," he whispered back, hands sliding up the powerful line of Treize's back.

"Mmmm." Treize's smile turned soft and pleased as he leaned down to draw a slow tongue up Zechs' neck. "Good."

Zechs took in a quick breath, pulling Treize tighter against him. This was sure; this was present and now, the weight of Treize's body over his, the heat of his hands, the slide of his tongue against Zechs', urgent and intense in ways Treize hid when it was just words, and Zechs answered with passion.

He cried out when Treize's cock slid into him, thick and hard and certain, whole body drawing taut with heat, relaxing into the sure simplicity of it.

"We will serve only the world's light, then," Treize murmured against his ear, nipping gently. "Tend the fire of honor and determination and commitment. The purity that I always loved in you..."

Zechs' arms tightened and he moaned, husky, as the velvet of Treize's words and the hard edge of his conviction stroked him to orgasm and wild heat shuddered through him. Treize arched over him, thrusting harder, head tossed back as he groaned. "Yes!"

Zechs gathered him close again, as he relaxed, and laughed soft and helpless against his shoulder. "And after it all, here I am again, in your hands," he whispered.

"Perhaps we are in each other's hands," Treize murmured back.

Zechs smiled, letting himself hope.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]annotated_em, 2008-09-23 01:03 pm UTC
Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-23 01:12 pm UTC
Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-23 04:46 pm UTC
Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-23 04:49 pm UTC
Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]wei_jiangling, 2008-09-23 04:53 pm UTC
Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-23 05:42 pm UTC
Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]mrkinch, 2008-09-23 09:32 pm UTC
Re: Gundam Wing, Zechs/Treize, after the fire - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-23 09:37 pm UTC
Blade of the Immortal, Hyakurin/Rin, protective streak
[info]senri
2008-09-23 02:34 pm UTC (link)
Hyakurin's breath is warm and smoky in the dark. "If you want to be strong," she breathes against Rin's skin, "you won't rely on your man to do all your fighting for you. A woman has to be strong in this world." Rin feels dizzy, swaddled in smoke, short of breath. Hyakurin's eyes are the saddest things Rin's ever seen, but her hands are soft and warm.

"It's better," - and still warm, as those hands pull Rin's sleeping robe open - "if you know, how to take care of yourself." And Rin twitches, shifting at the gentle, practiced touch brushing at the sides of her breasts, and then lower. She closes her eyes and Hyakurin makes a low noise that might be amusement or anything, really.

"Is this really - "

"Shh," Hyakurin's voice is warm, amused, as her hand knifes between Rin's legs, fingers carefully opening her. "Men get petty about this kind of thing. They don't like having it waved in their faces, that a woman doesn't need them."

Hyakurin's fingers do something - hook up, curve, pull at her in some strange good way, sliding in the moisture Rin's nascent desire produces. "Oh," Rin breathes, the noise dropping from her mouth round and smooth as a river stone, sliding her thighs against Hyakurin's hand. Hyakurin kisses the corner of her open mouth, so different, softer, gentler than anything Rin's ever pictured or imagined before -

"Closer, Rin-chan," Hyakurin murmurs. "I'll teach you."

Fumbling with nervousness and excitement, Rin goes to her.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Blade of the Immortal, Hyakurin/Rin, protective streak - (Anonymous), 2008-09-23 03:07 pm UTC
Re: Blade of the Immortal, Hyakurin/Rin, protective streak - [info]senri, 2008-09-23 06:46 pm UTC
Re: Blade of the Immortal, Hyakurin/Rin, protective streak - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-23 04:44 pm UTC
Re: Blade of the Immortal, Hyakurin/Rin, protective streak - [info]senri, 2008-09-23 06:42 pm UTC
Final Fantasy VI, Edgar Roni Figaro/Setzer Gabiani, elbow grease (1/2)
[info]kristinmachina
2008-09-23 03:24 pm UTC (link)
“So this is the heart of the castle,” Setzer strolled into the engine room of Figaro’s basement.

Edgar, king of the castle and the engine’s designer, looked up from his repair work to greet Setzer with a grin and a nod.

“What brings you to Figaro?” Edgar wiped his greasy hands on a rag tied to his tool-belt. Edgar looked more mechanic than monarch in his denim overalls and white, sleeveless undershirt. His clothes were stained with grease, oil, sweat, and some unidentifiable yellow gunk. His long blond hair was tied back with ribbon, yet tendrils of hair hung over his brow in greasy strings.

“I was bored,” Setzer began to shrug his coat off his shoulders. It was warm in the engine room, although the ventilation fans were turning. “Your chancellor told me you were doing maintenance work on the castle’s engine, and I wanted to see it for myself.” As he spoke, Setzer scanned the engine room with interest. “Impressive machinery.”

“Thanks,” Edgar replied. “Sorry I can’t be a better host right now. I did some quick fixes to the engine right after that tentacle monster got to it, just enough to get us back above ground. But now I see that thing really cocked things up There’s entire parts I still have to replace, wires I still have to re-thread. It’ll be a couple of days before I can get this into its proper condition.”

Setzer nodded, then without a word, turned around and left the engine room.

Edgar was taken aback by Setzer’s sudden, silent exit. The mechanic-king suddenly felt a sharp twinge of guilt. He didn’t mean to brush off a good friend, or make Setzer feel unwanted. Edgar took a sad sigh and resumed his work.

Minutes later, to Edgar’s surprise and relief, Setzer returned, looking a bit different than normal. The gambler took off all his rings and his coat, and was wearing just a grey, button-down shirt, black pants, and a tool-belt slung around Setzer’s narrow hips. He brought with him his own iron-cast toolbox.

“What?” Setzer noted Edgar’s surprised expression. “You didn’t think I do engine work on the Falcon in my good clothes, did you?”

“I wasn’t there when you were doing emergency repairs after our crash near Miranda,” Edgar grinned.

“Yes, well, oil doesn’t wash out of silk,” Setzer set his box down on the catwalk. “Found that out the hard way. Not that I couldn’t afford a new shirt or anything.”

“Are you here to offer your assistance, Mr. Gabbiani?” Edgar asked.

“Unless you want to take a break for a quick game of Hearts?” Setzer waved a wrench.

“Maybe later,” Edgar smiled. The king described to Setzer what work the engine needed, and Setzer got to work right away.

It was easy to forget that, under his flamboyant dress sense and devil-may-care attitude, Setzer was also a master mechanic. Edgar admired his work on the Blackjack, amazed at how anything that big could lift off the ground, never mind fly. Edgar appreciated the help, but he appreciated the company more. Sabin was good for lifting things, but his constant inquiry of “Are we done yet?” got on Edgar’s nerves quickly, and Sabin would find himself exiled from the room. Setzer, on the other hand, worked diligently, and followed Edgar’s instructions to the letter. The same hands that dealt a mean hand of poker and tossed some deadly darts were just as nimble with a wrench and screwdriver.

In the midst of repairs, Edgar found himself watching Setzer work. Setzer wore his sleeves rolled up almost to his shoulders, and he didn’t seem to mind the blotchs of oil on his elbows. Edgar looked at Setzer’s arms–long and thin, but with just a hint of muscular definition. They were lined with purplish scars, some older than others. Those scars seemed to extend to Setzer’s chest–the gambler’s shirt was open just enough to see cris-crossing lines across Setzer’s sternum. An occasional bead of sweat would roll from the hallow of Setzer’s throat down his chest...

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Final Fantasy VI, Edgar Roni Figaro/Setzer Gabiani, elbow grease (2/3) - [info]kristinmachina, 2008-09-23 03:26 pm UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VI, Edgar Roni Figaro/Setzer Gabiani, elbow grease (3/3) - [info]kristinmachina, 2008-09-23 03:27 pm UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VI, Edgar Roni Figaro/Setzer Gabiani, elbow grease (3/3) - [info]junkiecosmonaut, 2009-07-19 09:14 am UTC
Fruits Basket, Haru/Rin, secretive
[info]shiegra
2008-09-23 07:55 pm UTC (link)
It was silence that dominated their early relationship.

The silence of shuttered rooms, stillness puncuated by the softness of her strangled voice, the heat of his touch, the choked sounds she made around her wrist or hand, trying to strangle the signs of her pleasure, trying to keep them safe.

Fear rode her harsher than it did Haru; rather than shy away from the danger, he drank her in as though he was afraid she would vanish when he opened his hands. There were nights when he simply swallowed every sound she made, hands buried in her long hair--she always braided it before she slept if she was sleeping with him, but he had a fascination for the sight of it loose against her skin--moving against her with a torturous slowness, until she was out of control and making helpless sounds, too far gone for sensible restraint.

Haru was too familiar with her thorny anger, the sharp-edged shield she drew around herself, razored at all edges to ward off reaching hands. He stripped her of it with a thoroughness she almost called cruel, if not for the tenderness in his eyes. It left her too vulnerable, always, but in the dark rooms and quiet spaces there was only Haru to see her, his eyes dwelling on her face.

Always the secrets, always the silence; it remained even when she walked away, born under the weight of her experience with pain and her willingness to perpetuate a thousand lies to protect him from it.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Fruits Basket, Haru/Rin, secretive - [info]wei_jiangling, 2008-09-25 06:57 pm UTC
Re: Fruits Basket, Haru/Rin, secretive - [info]shiegra, 2008-09-26 07:57 pm UTC
Final Fantasy VII, Reno/Reeve, hiding
[info]ladynero
2008-09-23 08:11 pm UTC (link)
Reeve glanced up as a red haired figure in a Turk suit slipped into the small storage room before firmly shutting the door behind him. “Who are you hiding from this time, Reno?”

“The damn dragon lady,” grumbled Reno, walking over to sit next to Reeve on some crates and stealing a beer from the six pack sitting next to the young engineer. “She has a rash of things go wrong in her office, and I become the number one suspect, yo.”

Snickering, Reeve took a drink from the cold bottle in his hand. “She really should know better,” he remarked with a smirk.“Especially since there’s a rumor she was recently seen stalking a certain General.”

That got a wide eyed look from Reno. “No fuckin’ way she’s that desperate! ‘Specially since the General’s got his little pet.”

“Careful that Commander Fair doesn’t hear you calling him that,” Reeve teased before shaking his head. “Tell that to Scarlet who is sure no man can resist her charms, dubious though they may be. Hence the reason why I’m hiding here.”

“Plus you can always say you were out inspectin’ something when she comes looking for ya for some meeting about money,” Reno said causing Reeve to flinch at the memory of the last meeting with Scarlet. She had been trying to seduce more of his budget away from him with veiled threats and barbed innuendoes while almost falling out of her dress as she leaned over his desk, her cloying perfume choking the oxygen in his office.

Reeve shuddered and drained his bottle. “A female like that is enough to make a man gay.’

“Really?” purred Reno with a challenging smirk. “Let’s test that theory.”

That was all the warning Reeve had before Reno was kneeling between his legs with a hot mouth around the engineer’s cock. Reeve spat out a curse even as his hands were buried in that flame red hair. He only hoped that the Turk locked the door behind him because he really didn’t want to get caught with his pants down and Reno’s face in his lap. It was hard enough to get people to take him serious being as young as he was in relation to the other Department Heads.

Most sane people hated Reno’s mouth but with those lips wrapped around his flesh and sucking with enough force to pull a materia orb through a straw, Reeve was hardly in a position to even think about complaining. He whimpered and panted as his hips thrust into Reno’s mouth, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling.

There was a rustling of cloth followed by the slick slide of flesh on flesh adding to the slurping of Reno’s mouth and Reeve’s whimpering pants. The warm air of the storage room held the scent of sex easily, mixing it with the yeasty aroma of beer leaking from the open bottles, making Reeve’s head swim. He managed a slightly louder whimper as he tugged on Reno’s hair, trying to warn the Turk that he was close, but Reno only sucked harder. Moaning, Reeve buried himself in that wicked mouth as his release crashed over him, leaving him weak and tired.

Reno sat back on his heels, a smug grin on his face as he pulled out a clean handkerchief and wiped his hand clean. Then he did up his pants and stood up, looking once more like the sloppily dressed Turk with a thing for high explosives instead of someone who had just been giving a world class blowjob. Reeve knew he looked exactly as he felt, like he had been on the receiving end of that blowjob with his pants open and his hair disheveled.

“We really need to stop meeting this way, sir,” drawled Reno with a smirk before he snagged one last bottle of beer before strolling out of the storage room, indifferent to the glare Reeve tossed after him.

“Damn, Turk,” Reeve sighed, trying to put himself back together again.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Final Fantasy VII, Reno/Reeve, hiding - [info]wei_jiangling, 2008-09-25 07:05 pm UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Reno/Reeve, hiding - [info]ladynero, 2008-09-26 10:07 pm UTC
Final Fantasy VII, Zack/Sephiroth/Cloud, wolves
[info]ladynero
2008-09-24 12:04 am UTC (link)
They're anthro-wolves, not actual wolves wolves.

It was an unusual pack that Cloud belonged to, but he wouldn’t change to a more traditional pack for all the world. Not after a so-called traditional pack nearly killed his mother when she came back with him. He’d rather remain with Sephiroth’s pack with its mix of wolves, spirits and other animals.

Stretched out on the pile of furs with a content smile on his face, Cloud relaxed in the firelight, one arm curled behind his head as he watched Sephiroth and Zack fucking on their own pile of furs. Zack’s tail was wagging in time with his thrusts as Sephiroth’s head was tilted to bare his throat to his beta’s teeth. Cloud’s ears twitched in blond hair, catching each sound made as his hand drifted towards his aching cock to tease himself with light touches. He had been told he could touch himself and watch, but he wasn’t to come yet.

Zack had a plan for tonight, and the smirk on his beta’s face had sent a shiver of apprehensive delight down Sephiroth’s back.

There was another grunt before Zack sighed in relief, the scent of his release spilling into the air as he marked Sephiroth’s body. As the midnight wolf eased away from the moonlight alpha, he glanced over at Cloud with laughing violet eyes before motioning the blond over. Trembling in excitement, Cloud crawled over to them, pausing long enough to rub his cheek against his pack leader’s before Zack was urging him to straddle Sephiroth.

As he sank down on Sephiroth’s thick cock, Cloud moaned and thanked the gods that he was part of this untraditional pack.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Final Fantasy VII, Zack/Sephiroth/Cloud, wolves - [info]yami_no_tenshi, 2008-09-25 08:35 am UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Zack/Sephiroth/Cloud, wolves - [info]ladynero, 2008-09-26 10:30 pm UTC
Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy VIII, Cloud Strife/Squall Leonheart, playing cards
[info]tripoverhercats
2008-09-24 06:30 am UTC (link)
It was just supposed to be a way to pass a little time at first, there weren't many people willing to challenge Squall to Triple Triad anymore, so an extra-terrestrial mercenary seemed like an easy mark. That it'd get Laguna off his back about meeting this person that Odine had dragged out of the ether in his latest experiment was just a bit of extra gravy. When it became apparent that Odine wan't going to be able to duplicate his test anytime soon (despite Cloud's encouraging offers to put him through a few walls to see if that would help shake loose some ideas - Cloud had a *thing* about scientists apparently) Squall had offered Cloud temporary employ and the card sessions kept going.

And they started to talk. Squall told Cloud about Rinoa, how she'd been his first love and still was even though too many differences had come between them. Cloud told him about Tifa and commiserated. Both agreed that if the two should ever meet, the universe would undoubtedly be in peril from the sheer amount of meddling the two women could accomplish. Evil corporations and megalomaniacal overlords would be pummeled, blown sky-high and any male companions in tow *would* learn to keep the toilet seats down. Or else.

Whiskers left unrinsed out in the sink would be instant death.

That's when Squall learned Cloud didn't shave. He'd reached over out of curiosity to feel the older man's chin and Cloud had gone a little shivery under the feeling hand and bright blue eyes met him a bit ruefully.

"Maybe I should tell you about Zack?"

It wasn't that Squall had never considered it, he'd had fantasies but there'd been *rules* and very watchful eyes. Not to mention decided power struggles that enacting on old urges would have caused to explode. But that was then and Squall was the Commander these days. Cloud wasn't *technically* a SeeD, nor was he a client. So he'd leaned in to kiss.

It was supposed to have been just a bit of exploration. Really. Only neither man felt *familiar*, there were echoes of things past or undone, but nothing that brought another person immediately to mind. For which they were both grateful, at least for the few seconds their higher brain functions still worked before sheer libido took over.

Squall didn't know leather could *rip* like that. And he would peel his Bahamut card off of Cloud's shoulder blade... in just one more minute.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy VIII, Cloud Strife/Squall Leonheart, playing cards - [info]artimusdin, 2008-09-24 11:00 am UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy VIII, Cloud Strife/Squall Leonheart, playing cards - [info]ladynero, 2008-09-24 11:04 am UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy VIII, Cloud Strife/Squall Leonheart, playing cards - [info]aikonamika, 2008-09-24 06:36 pm UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy VIII, Cloud Strife/Squall Leonheart, playing cards - [info]pegunicent, 2008-09-25 03:16 am UTC
Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics
[info]busaikko
2008-09-24 09:13 am UTC (link)
also I am cancelling your subscription to O the Oprah Magazine

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]jrho, 2008-09-24 02:43 pm UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]busaikko, 2008-09-24 04:13 pm UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]the_reverand, 2008-09-24 05:08 pm UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]busaikko, 2008-09-24 07:32 pm UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]kyuuketsukirui, 2008-09-24 11:25 pm UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]busaikko, 2008-09-25 02:10 am UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - (Anonymous), 2008-09-25 12:59 am UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]busaikko, 2008-09-25 02:15 am UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]yami_no_tenshi, 2008-09-25 08:38 am UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]busaikko, 2008-09-25 08:44 am UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]hyel, 2008-09-25 11:00 am UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]mllesatine, 2008-09-25 04:34 pm UTC
Re: Dinosaur Comics, T-Rex/Utahraptor, sad sex comics - [info]busaikko, 2008-09-26 01:15 am UTC
Final Fantasy VII, Tseng/Reno, gag,
[info]ladynero
2008-09-24 10:16 am UTC (link)
The only good gag for Reno was a thick cock in his mouth with a hand gripping his hair But then, Tseng always thought his problem child looked best with his knees in the dirt or his ass in the air. Unfortunately, Reno knew this too, and with just a sly little smirk, Tseng would find himself with is back against a wall, pants open, and Reno putting his mouth to better use than smarting off.

Tseng winced as teeth accidentally scraped sensitive skin, and he tightened his grip on Reno’s hair in warning. That got a chuckle before Reno buried his nose in Tseng’s dark curls before humming. Biting back a curse, Tseng’s head hit the wall behind him and could only focus on the delightful vibrations on his cock. It took a couple seconds for Tseng to realize that Reno was humming the President’s anthem and growled at him. “Hum something different.”

Chuckling, Reno pulled back to smirk up at him. “Don’t like the tune, Boss?” he teased before wrapping his lips back around Tseng’s cock and sucking hard. Biting his lip, Tseng thrust into that wicked mouth before coming. His hand tightened in Reno’s hair, not giving the redhead a chance to pull away, and he felt a measure of satisfaction at the faint sound of protest from Reno even as he swallowed Tseng’s release.

“Don’t forget that the Vice President has a meeting in Junon in two hours,” Tseng stated, puling out of Reno’s mouth and tucking himself away as he straightened his suit. He walked past Reno and smirked at the flurry of curses that followed him. Reno would never learn that timing is everything.

(Reply to this)

Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Rodney, trust me, I'm good at this
[info]facetofcathy.livejournal.com
2008-09-24 10:16 am UTC (link)
"Trust me, I'm good at this." It was Ronon who had said it that first time, right before he had cut through Rodney's skin with the sharp blade of his knife.

Rodney had kept his eyes fixed on the dark, curling hair next to Ronon's scalp, loose for a bare few millimeters before it was constrained and twisted into the dreads that hung heavy down his back. Rodney hadn't looked away from that spot on the top of Ronon's head until the last tugging pull of the sutures was only a memory burned into his mind, and Ronon had finished wiping away the blood. The row of tiny stitches were neat and even, clearly the work of an expert. The transmitter had been tossed aside to lay in a puddle of sticky blood on the floor at their feet. Rodney had smashed it with the heel of his boot.

"You going to faint if you stand up?" Ronon had asked.

Rodney had thought it likely but he had stood and swayed and didn't faint, and then they had started walking. Ronon's hand had hovered near Rodney's back, ready to catch him, but he had not fallen.

+++

"Trust me, I'm good at this." It was Rodney who said it the next time.

Ronon was leaning against the tree they had slept under the night before. He didn't say anything; he just looked down at Rodney with one eyebrow raised in challenge. Rodney settled himself on the folds of his leather jacket, carefully not wincing at the pain in his right knee. He slid his hands inside Ronon's pants and around Ronon's hips, enjoying the hot flush of Ronon's skin against his chilled hands. Ronon's skin was hot everywhere, as hot as the taut, inflamed skin surrounding the incision on Rodney's arm. He bent his head and licked a stripe up the length of Ronon's cock and had to listen carefully to hear the soft exhale of Ronon's breath. He fit his mouth over the head and swirled his tongue, and Ronon made the tiniest sound of pleasure. Rodney took a deep breath, full of the ripe musk of Ronon's body, and he sucked Ronon into the wet heat of his mouth. He bobbed his head and listened to his own breaths whistle through his nose, and when the muscles of Ronon's thighs tightened under his hands, he sucked harder and faster until Ronon was coming in his mouth. Any sounds Ronon made were lost in the rush of blood in Rodney's ears. When he wiped his lips and looked up, Ronon had his eyes closed, but the tight lines of pain and exhaustion around his mouth were gone. Rodney grimaced at the sharp shot of pain in his knee as he stood.

+++

Continued.....

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Re: Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Rodney, trust me, I'm good at this - [info]facetofcathy.livejournal.com, 2008-09-24 10:18 am UTC
Re: Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Rodney, trust me, I'm good at this - [info]cesare, 2008-09-26 09:49 pm UTC
Re: Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Rodney, trust me, I'm good at this - (Anonymous), 2008-09-26 11:09 pm UTC
Re: Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Rodney, trust me, I'm good at this - [info]ceitie, 2008-09-26 11:10 pm UTC
Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind
[info]aikonamika
2008-09-24 06:18 pm UTC (link)
Kadaj arched in the center of the bed, his skin slick and sweaty, breathless moans escaping him.

Across the room, Yazoo was splayed over Loz’s lap, penetrated and filled, his head tilted back and staring toward the ceiling with distant eyes, his hands dangling almost uselessly toward the floor. Loz’s mouth was attached to his neck, large hands holding his thighs spread wide even as he shifted his cock in and out of his brother.

When he adjusted his angle just so, Yazoo and Kadaj moaned in unison.

One of Kadaj’s hands flew down finally to curl around his cock, gripping and pulling with just the right amount of force, his other hand teasing through the sparse silver hair that surrounded his sex before shifting to cup and toy with his balls. The sensation of Yazoo’s body around him was coupled with the illusion of Loz within him, and the other two twitched at the additional stimulation from him.

“Kiss,” he gasped, a request, a command. They obeyed without question, without thought, and then all three of them were twitching and shuddering as climax rushed through them, doubled and tripled from the other two brothers, until it reached the height and let them fall, all together.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind - [info]yami_no_tenshi, 2008-09-25 08:39 am UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind - [info]aikonamika, 2008-09-25 09:17 am UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind - [info]yami_no_tenshi, 2008-09-25 08:09 pm UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind - [info]aikonamika, 2008-09-25 09:46 pm UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind - [info]yami_no_tenshi, 2008-09-26 01:02 pm UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind - [info]white_jenna, 2008-10-02 12:49 am UTC
Re: Final Fantasy VII, Kadaj/Yazoo/Loz, three of a kind - [info]aikonamika, 2008-10-02 08:24 am UTC
Claymore, Cynthia/Yuma, make her forget her hero-worship for a moment
(Anonymous)
2008-09-24 06:25 pm UTC (link)
Cynthia wasn't all-seeing like Tabitha was fast becoming, but she could see that Yuma's crush on hero-worship of Clare was unhealthy and irritating. Even Deneve rolled her eyes when Yuma insisted on accompanying Clare on her forays into the ruined towns, and if something other than Helen could make Deneve react, then--well.

Cynthia watched, and waited, and waited, and waited until the training schedule had her and Yuma going off alone to fight. Once they were an appreciable distance from the group (well out of Tabitha's range), Cynthia attacked first, and Yuma parried and cried, "That's not fair!"

"Youma aren't fair," Cynthia said, doing her best deadpan Clare impression and putting some more pressure on the sword to drive Yuma back a few more feet in the snow. "Awakened beings aren't fair." And then she tripped the other girl, grabbed her claymore by the blade, and tossed it to the side. "See?"

"Ah," Yuma started, looking up wide-eyed and with childlike incomprehension. Cynthia wasn't entirely sure why she was doing what she was doing, but she knew that she had to knock some sense into Yuma's head. So, she buried her claymore in the snow and straddled Yuma's hips and grabbed Yuma by her hair to kiss her, gently. She had done this with boys when she was human, but she was long out of practise and Yuma was enthusiastic but woefully clumsy.

The snow was not cold when they lay in it, but it was uncomfortable and it coated Yuma's hands as she pulled Cynthia's top down and groped her breasts. She murmured, "Cl--" into Cynthia's mouth but stopped herself in time, and Cynthia did not care.

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Claymore, Miria/Galatea, ...you can keep the habit on
(Anonymous)
2008-09-24 06:28 pm UTC (link)
There were bound to be problems from the start. After seven years in the north, Miria and Tabitha were about as socialized as wild animals, and Galatea had to rein them in every once in a while. Tabitha didn't seem to mind so much, because Galatea was training her, but Miria--Miria, in her nun disguise, claymore in her cell, pretending to be devout--Miria had problems. She could project an aura of purpose and calm good enough to fool everyone else, but not Galatea--Galatea could hear her grinding her teeth, could sense how tense she was. Perhaps in the North Miria could have drowned her obsessive-compulsive need for vengeance in training, but now, back in the world, it was real.

That simply would not do. Galatea didn't need a breakdown on her hands. She already had Clarice and Miata to deal with, and the two of them were fucked-up (which was an inelegant way to put it, but was the most accurate way as well) enough for twenty Claymores.

So Galatea knocked on Miria's door at five in the morning and without waiting for an answer, she walked in, pulled the covers off, and said, "Let's go."

Miria had not been sleeping, and was embracing her sword in bed. In one sinuous movement she rolled over onto her back and pressed the tip to Galatea's throat.

"We're going to fight."

Miria lowered the sword and got out of bed. She was wearing her uniform from the north, and as she led the way out of the room, Galatea could not help but admire the back view. They slipped by the young monks who were up early sweeping the courtyard, slipped by the guards, and got outside the city.

She sensed Tabitha behind them at a respectful distance, and ignored her.

Ten long minutes later, Miria had her sword at Galatea's throat and both of them were breathing hard. Galatea's left arm was aching and she had not felt so glorious in seven years, and they wanted to tear each other's throats out and, yes, they were worthy opponents.

That's the adrenaline talking, something sensible in the back of her mind said (and Galatea prided herself on her common sense as much as she prided herself on her beauty), but Miria was thinking the exact same thing. Galatea didn't have time to make sure that assumption was backed up by Miria's youki before the other Claymore threw her sword down and took Galatea's mouth in a hot, hungry kiss, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd done anything like this.

Galatea started to pull up her habit--the one that she had started to think of as her combat habit, ripped to the thigh--and Miria's lips slid across her cheek to her earlobe and she whispered, "Keep it on."

Tabitha's distance grew much more respectful.

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Re: Claymore, Miria/Galatea, ...you can keep the habit on - (Anonymous), 2008-09-24 11:29 pm UTC
Discworld, Vimes/Vetinari, pull the string
[info]yomikoreadman
2008-09-24 06:59 pm UTC (link)
Vimes cursed the Unseen University under his breath. This was slightly harder than usual, given that he was running a bit short on breath due to his current activities.

Beneath him Vetinari was giving Vimes a bemused look that quietly said, Hex or no Hex, this was bound to happen.

Vimes was too out of breath to swear and the wall was too far away to punch, so he settled for punching the pillow beneath Vetinari’s head.

The Patrician’s look of bemusement grew broad enough to almost qualify as a smile. Holding Vimes’ angry gaze, the most powerful man in Ankh-Morpork turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss against the wrist of the man who almost punched his face in.

Vimes laughed, a short bark that said, You can’t help pushing, can you?

Vetinari just smiled.

I can push too, thought Vimes as he began thrusting with renewed vigor*.

A soft sigh and sticky warmth on his stomach were all that signaled the Patrician’s climax. Vimes’ orgasm followed shortly after, although his was accompanied by several loud grunts, a moan and a graceless collapse onto the body beneath him.

Lying in the not-quite embrace of the most infuriating man he’s ever met, Vimes silently vows to never ever pull the string again, no matter how adorable the ducky is.

*Also available in classic and lemon fresh.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Discworld, Vimes/Vetinari, pull the string - [info]cuddlesquid.livejournal.com, 2008-09-24 07:17 pm UTC
Re: Discworld, Vimes/Vetinari, pull the string - [info]skadders, 2008-09-24 07:26 pm UTC
Re: Discworld, Vimes/Vetinari, pull the string - [info]hyel, 2008-09-25 11:03 am UTC
3:10 to Yuma, Ben Wade/Dan Evans, marked
[info]yayforjae
2008-09-24 07:52 pm UTC (link)
Wade's wears his vanity with a casual grace, walking half-naked through the house, his dark pants open and his holster slung low around his hips. He seems perversely proud of his scars, almost preening to display them: a line that drops diagonally to his hip, a curve like a grin around his left shoulder blade, tattoo to match around his right, and two round scars on his stomach. The filled-in holes on Dan's chest still hurt, but Wade shows no discomfort with his old wounds.

Nor with Dan's. In bed, he drags his fingertips over them, connecting them with invisible lines, like he's drawing. Here - Charlie's first shot. Then to here - The second. And then to the next. It doesn't make him nauseous anymore; he doesn't think about the look in Charlie Prince's eyes, the look in William's eyes, the brightness of the sun. The scars still ache, though, but not always.

Wade's hand slides lower, and Dan lifts his hips to help shove his pants down. The bumps of scar tissue smooth to the silk skin over his pelvis. Wade presses his mouth against Dan's back - more scars there - and breaths chuckles against the knobs of his spine.

Dan lets him laugh - Even that feels good. The knots in his muscles untangle a bit as Wade kisses and rubs. When Wade's hand finally covers his cock, he curls forward a bit and Wade's chest pushes against him. The slow strokes - Wade's heat - The scratch of stubble over his shoulders - Wade chuckles again and smears wetness and squeezes tighter than a noose until Dan buckles and takes the Lord's name in vain.

Afterward, his breath eventually slows down to normal and his heart crawls back into its place. The thick ache of the scars will be back, but the temporary respite gives him time to sleep.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: 3:10 to Yuma, Ben Wade/Dan Evans, marked - [info]ladydey, 2008-09-24 09:35 pm UTC
Re: 3:10 to Yuma, Ben Wade/Dan Evans, marked - [info]yayforjae, 2008-09-26 10:12 pm UTC
Re: 3:10 to Yuma, Ben Wade/Dan Evans, marked - [info]baggyeyes, 2008-09-26 09:16 pm UTC
Re: 3:10 to Yuma, Ben Wade/Dan Evans, marked - [info]yayforjae, 2008-10-02 04:26 pm UTC
Re: 3:10 to Yuma, Ben Wade/Dan Evans, marked - [info]baggyeyes, 2008-10-15 09:06 am UTC
Discworld, Vimes/Sybil, fancy that
[info]yomikoreadman
2008-09-24 08:08 pm UTC (link)
“Hm. Fancy that.” Sybil muttered, abandoning her search of Vimes’ dresser to sit next to him on their bed. “Sam, I know I ordered you a new pair of tights to wear to the opera this evening.”

“Hm.” Said Vimes, putting on his best blank look.

“Do you think they delivered them to the wrong address?”

Vimes stared hard at the wall and gritted his teeth. Loving Sybil had brought great joy and serenity into his life, so much so that he had overcome his fear of seeing the world without half a bottle of Bearhugger’s in his system.

Unfortunately, loving someone that much made it difficult to lie to them. So if she kept asking, he was all too likely to confess that the tights had been delivered to exactly the right address; the right address being the Watch house where he had promptly given them to Nobby as a Hogswatch present.

“And they were such a lovely shade…”

Sybil looked so upset that Vimes, against all better judgment, was about to offer wear his green tights instead when Sybil’s gaze suddenly focused in a way Vimes had come to fear.

‘Sam, you didn’t do something with them, did you?”

“Sybil,” He began, rubbing her back. “I-“

“Samuel Vimes, you are impossible!” She stood, frowning down at him. “I am simply trying to help you fit into the society you are supposed to be part of!”

“I…” I only need to fit in with you. He didn’t say. Instead he stood too, took both of Sybil’s hands and said, as honestly as he could, “I’m sorry.”

Sybil’s anger fell away. “Sam, I-“

He couldn’t stand to see her upset. And despite her love and affection, Sam hadn’t quite mastered the art of hugging. But he could kiss. He could work his hands up her back and undo the ties of her dress. He could slide the fabric down and kiss her lovely neck, her strong shoulders, the secret bits that he knew were just for him.

And they never made it to the opera but Vimes didn’t mind.

Sex didn’t require tights.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Discworld, Vimes/Sybil, fancy that - [info]hyel, 2008-09-25 11:05 am UTC
xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki, high shelf
[info]lysapadin
2008-09-24 08:42 pm UTC (link)
Kimihiro scowled at the box sitting on the very top shelf of the cupboard, stymied. "I don't know why you have to put groceries away where I can't reach them," he complained, raising himself up on the tips of his toes and straining for the box. His fingertips just barely brushed it. "You know I can't--damn it!" The box, jarred by his attempts to grab it, slid farther back on the shelf.

"Need a little help?" Shizuka didn't wait for an answer; his sudden presence at Kimihiro's back, one long solid line of muscle, pressed Kimihiro against the countertop as Shizuka reached up and pulled the box down for him.

"I hate you, you great hulking behemoth," Kimihiro muttered, as Shizuka set the offending box on the counter. "If you would just put things away where normal people could reach them..."

"Short people, you mean," Shizuka said, not moving away. In fact, he was sliding his arms around Kimihiro.

"Normal people," Kimihiro insisted, and ignored the fact that Shizuka's fingers were slipping under his shirt.

"But then I couldn't do this," Shizuka said, against the side of his throat, lips brushing against Kimihiro's skin.

Kimihiro fought the shiver that ran down his spine at the softness of them. "Oh, so now you're going to use your freakish size to molest me on top of harassing me?" he said, breathless, and shuddered as Shizuka's fingers dipped into his pants and closed around him.

"I could stop," Shizuka suggested, fingers moving over him, slow and steady.

"If you do that, I swear I will kill you in your sleep," Kimihiro told him. "Oh..." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting it against Shizuka's shoulder, panting as Shizuka's lips moved over his throat and Shizuka's fingers stroked over his cock, coaxing slow thick pleasure through him. It was good to be held like this, surrounded and supported by Shizuka's strength, tended to with a care that Shizuka rarely put into words, but was no less real for that. Kimihiro relaxed into it, moaning with the sweetness of it as it built, until it was too much to stand and he came apart, trusting in Shizuka to hold him up as pleasure licked through him.

"I could just not help with putting the groceries away," Shizuka suggested, against his ear.

"Oh, so you want me to do all the work around here?" Kimihiro retorted. "So you can be, what? My kept man?"

Shizuka's near-silent laughter huffed against his ear. "Could be interesting."

"Jerk. You're not going to get out of your chores that easily." Kimihiro pawed at his hands. "Let me go so I can fix dinner."

"Make those noodles with the ginger sauce," Shizuka said immediately, and let him go.

"You rearrange my kitchen and take advantage of your freakish size to molest me, and now you're make demands on the menu, too?" Kimihiro glared at him. "Have you no shame?"

One corner of Shizuka's mouth curled up. "Nope."

"Clearly," Kimihiro sniffed, filling a pot with water for the noodles and putting it on to boil.

The nerve of some people, he thought, rummaging for the ginger. Honestly.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki, high shelf - [info]branchandroot, 2008-09-24 08:47 pm UTC
Re: xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki, high shelf - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-24 08:51 pm UTC
Re: xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki, high shelf - [info]dorrie6, 2008-09-28 05:06 am UTC
Re: xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki, high shelf - [info]lysapadin, 2008-09-28 10:12 am UTC
Firefly, Jayne/Simon, vampires
[info]katekintail
2008-09-24 09:39 pm UTC (link)
They were supposed to be hunting vampires. Not the kind of vampires that made Jayne’s blood run cold, but the kind that made Simon shudder. Medicine wasn’t easy to come by in these far reaches. Alliance shipments to this region were few and far between for a reason. So the people of the planets had taken to improvising. It was the crew’s bad luck that in order to get the shipment they needed, they had to venture right into the heart of vampire territory in the dead of night.

“Stop shakin’. It’s makin’ it hard to hold my gun.”

Simon rolled his eyes. Nothing—not even losing both hands—would prevent Jayne from holding a gun. Simon had seen gristly scenes before, and it wasn’t as though the sight of blood unnerved him. But this… this dumping ground of bodies that had been drained dry of every drop and harvested clean of ever organ… this was different. This was inhuman. But this was also precise and calculated and routine and done by the sort of people he didn’t want to run into. The sort of people he knew neither he nor Jayne could fight. “S-sorry. There’s nothing I can do here.”

“Aw, hell.” Jayne put his arm around Simon, pulling him close. “All this way and ya want me to take you back to the ship?”

Simon nodded. Simon didn’t remember Jayne swearing. He didn’t remember the trek back to the ship. He didn’t remember going all the way down into Jayne’s bunk and getting into bed. But he recalled the tough man’s body on top of him and the strong arms holding him until the shaking stopped. He recalled the warm breath on his cheek and back of neck. He recalled Jayne whispering “You all right?” Then, after Simon nodded, Jayne had tensed up, heart racing and breath shallow with urgency. “Good. Because you owe me, Doc.”

Simon nodded again and the two separated so they could undress. Jayne was always like this when he didn’t get a chance to get his gun off. The release was needed, comforting, healing. And there was no one better to go to for that sort of healing than Simon.

Simon rubbed himself against Jayne. His body rubbed against Jayne’s hot skin. His cock rose, pressing hard against Jayne’s thigh. Jayne’s hard-on was already an impressive pole in the center of the bed. Sliding down further, Simon opened his mouth, relaxed, and took in most of the length. The bits that wouldn’t fit were caressed, stroked with fingertips or squeezed warm by his palm. Jayne shifted and thrust desperately, but Simon stayed relaxed and, above all, eager.

He stroked Jayne’s cock with his tongue, swirling and flicking. He slobbered and sucked. He made Jayne yell and beat his fists against the metal walls, pleading for release, pleading for more. Simon sucked harder and Jayne thrust faster until Jayne’s moan caught in his throat and he came ferociously.

Vampires take. They use. They don’t care. Simon raised his head, wiping his wrist and the back of his hand across his wet mouth. He dropped his hand, smiling down at Jayne, who lay there spent, drained, and breathing slowly now. Simon cared. Damn it, but he cared. And, more importantly, he knew Jayne cared just as much.

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Re: Firefly, Jayne/Simon, vampires - [info]dancing_serpent, 2008-09-25 05:11 am UTC
Re: Firefly, Jayne/Simon, vampires - [info]hyel, 2008-09-28 05:07 am UTC
Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Spike/Xander, danger
[info]katekintail
2008-09-24 09:43 pm UTC (link)
Spike stirred and tried to raise his head. At the second try, he managed weakly to lift his chin just enough so that Xander caught the shine in his eyes. Spike licked his lips unconsciously. “You shouldn’t have come for me.”

“Shut up, Fang Boy. Get your hands up.” Xander squatted down in front of his vampire. Spike did not lift his hands, or perhaps could not summon the energy to do so, but Xander reached down and took hold of the tight bindings. They had been magicked on, as had the rest of the restraints, but Xander had been expecting as much. “I’ll go get Willow to--”

“No,” Spike said hoarsely. “Just leave me.”

Xander ran a hand through Spike’s platinum blond hair, which was damp and musty, just like the rest of the drainage tunnel was. They had only had a few hours before the rains were supposed to start in which to find Spike, kill the demon, and free the vampire. Now there was only a good thirty minutes left, give or take thirty minutes. Even in his weakened state, Spike would be able to survive being completely submerged in water for days at a time, but Xander couldn’t. And Xander wouldn’t leave him. “I’ve spent the past week and a half trying to find you and the last hour nearly getting killed. I’m not going to just walk away now. You’re not the only one who gets to play at being a hero.”

Spike looked hopeful but pulled back at the touch. He squeezed himself more tightly back into the tiny corner compartment in which he’d spent the past eleven days. “Don’t,” he whispered. “You’re hurt.”

Xander looked down, his heart pumping fast. He was still slightly out of breath from the battle. Kennedy and Willow were disposing of the demon now, and they had certainly helped, but Xander had done most of the work in the search and the fight. He was bruised and cut and for a few minutes back there he had been sure he was a goner. But that kind of danger wasn’t exactly a new experience for him. “Nothing bad. Just superficial--”

Spike hissed and flinched as Xander tried to get at him again.

“Fuck, Spike. What is it?”

“You shouldn’t have come for me, Pet.” His face was engulfed in darkness, but Xander could recognize the sound of it changing. He saw the gleam of fangs a split second before Spike lunged at him. “You’re hurt!” he repeated, this time full of lust and need, eyes trained on the small gash on Xander’s arm.

Xander knew he should back up. Spike hadn’t fed in over a week and the smell of any blood would easily be too much for him. But the blood of his lover? Irresistible.

Xander did not even hesitate. He offered his arm and felt the hot mouth against his skin almost immediately. A few moments later, a light-headed euphoria began spreading through Xander. Spike would know when to stop and Xander would know when Spike should stop. But they both wondered if the hungry vampire would actually be able to. Xander ran his hand through Spike’s hair again and faced the danger with a smile.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Spike/Xander, danger - [info]zillah975, 2008-09-26 08:47 pm UTC
Re: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Spike/Xander, danger - [info]hyel, 2008-09-28 03:02 am UTC
Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment
[info]ceitie
2008-09-24 11:59 pm UTC (link)
Teyla raised her head from its resting place on Rodney’s chest in order to watch Ronon and John come staggering through the door: Ronon grinning and swaying, John struggling valiantly to keep them both walking in a straight line.

“Okay, big guy, there’s the bed, so just –” John said, and then grunted in surprise when Ronon toppled onto the bed and dragged John with him. The bed, fortunately, was enormous, so their abrupt landing only resulted in a puff of dust from the straw-filled mattress and a vague, “Hey, that was my foot,” from Rodney. The size of the bed had given Teyla pause when she had first walked into their guest quarters; either the Hunodi had a fondness for extremely large beds along with ceremonial body paint, or she and her teammates were not quite as circumspect about their relationship as they liked to imagine.

“Of course,” Teyla mused, stroking her hand down Rodney’s bare chest, tracing the patterns there and smiling when he gasped, “given the Hunodi’s incredible exuberance for life – made very apparent by the wedding we have just attended – perhaps all of their beds are made with the possibility of an orgy in mind.”

John turned his head from where he was trying to wriggle out from underneath Ronon, who was sprawled on top of John’s legs and happily worming his hands under John’s shirt. “What? What about orgies?”

Rodney leaned forward from where he sat against the headboard and touched his fingertips to John’s face, following the blue painted swirl that swept across John’s cheekbone and curled around the back of his ear. “Wanna have one?”

Teyla watched John shiver as Rodney’s fingers brushed his ear and trailed down his neck, and felt a wave of warmth flood through her, rushing down to the heat already building between her legs. She took the opportunity to move her hand lower, sliding it into Rodney’s boxer shirts and grasping hold of his length, plastering herself along his side and licking his neck when he tilted his head back and moaned.

John made a sharp, cut-off sound nearly in synchrony, and Teyla saw that Ronon had pushed John’s shirt up to his neck and sucking and biting at his left nipple, smearing the blue paint and leaving dark pink marks instead as John arched, eyes squeezed shut. In the warm glow of the candlelight they were beautiful and not quite familiar, all twisting angular limbs and bright ribbons of colour on golden skin. And then Ronon lifted his head and said thoughtfully, “Huh. Tasty paint,” and Rodney snorted in her ear and John grinned, and they were once again her team, well-known and well-loved.

“Edible body paint. Why is it that I’m not surprised?” Rodney said, and Teyla felt his hand nudge her legs apart, big fingers stroking into the wet heat of her, and she had to kiss him, had to, did.

“I guess – oh, fuck, Ronon,” John began, and then started again, voice breathy. “I guess that it’s considerate of them, to want everyone to – unh, yeah, please – enjoy the wedding.” Ronon made a muffled affirmative noise.

Rodney pulled back from their kiss to look at her, his face flushed and eyes very blue against the violet paint that jagged over the sharp planes of his face. “And you said it was entirely ceremonial,” he said smugly.

Teyla rolled her hips, and tightened her grip on him. “Be silent, Rodney,” she said, and kissed him until he was.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment - [info]zillah975, 2008-09-26 09:21 pm UTC
Re: Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment - [info]ceitie, 2008-09-28 11:10 pm UTC
Re: Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment - [info]cesare, 2008-09-26 09:44 pm UTC
Re: Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment - [info]ceitie, 2008-09-28 11:17 pm UTC
Re: Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment - (Anonymous), 2008-09-29 10:58 pm UTC
Re: Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment - (Anonymous), 2008-10-01 10:47 am UTC
Re: Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney/Ronon/Teyla, adornment - [info]ceitie, 2008-10-01 10:48 am UTC
Higurashi no naku Koro ni, Takano/(older)Rika, I thought I killed you (1 of 2)
(Anonymous)
2008-09-25 12:49 am UTC (link)
It makes no sense, she thinks, but tonight she has the strangest feeling of deja vu. She has never been to this bar before--a filthy, effective place where nobody will recognize her, Okonogi's recommendation--and nobody is familiar to her. There is no reason to feel this way, and as a scientifically-minded woman she should know better. Takano sighs as if to clear the interior fog and reaches again for her glass.

And the path of her arm is interrupted by a soft hand, grabbing her wrist and pressing it down to the counter. Agitated, she glares at the person next to her, to tell them politely and exactly what they can do with their hand.

What she sees is beyond comprehension.

Three weeks ago, just after the Watanagashi, Takano had killed her with her own hands. She had slit her open and let her spill out on the ground and laughed (softly, softly, if anyone heard her that would be more work and nobody wanted that) as her eyes glazed over. There was no doubt as to what had occured. And this night all of her is as it was three weeks ago, healthy and sound but wrong--lengthened and widened as if by a funhouse mirror, or a torture device. She is wearing a green dress and looks to be in her late twenties, pretty and slim. She is holding Takano's hand.

"Come here often?" says the woman in a terribly familiar voice that is deeper and more tired than it ought to be, and all the same sets her mind reeling.

She hardly thinks as the woman leads her by the arm, bearing her down the hallway toward the restrooms; it is only the feeling of the woman's hands closing over hers that jolts Takano back to reality. Her eyes are running up and down her body, appraising her as though it has been years since last they met.

"You didn't dye your hair this time, Miyoko," she says approvingly. "I suppose what I say is finally carrying over. I used to be so jealous of that color."

"I thought--" Takano begins, and Rika smiles darkly, with her mouth only.

"Of course," she says, and it annoys her so much how she cuts her off when she has so many questions--why is she here, how does she know her name, why does she look this way, how is she alive at all--and not a chance to ask even one. "You did, Miyoko. Many times before, and many times to come."

How can she respond to this, Takano thinks? Even if she were inclined to, how does one properly apologize for disemboweling a child? It is irrelevant, of course; she did what she needed to do.

"You haven't much time either, Miyoko," lilts that smiling mouth. "They're coming for you too."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," she hisses, yanking her hands from Rika's. She wants to leave this place. She has to leave, but this woman has her backed against and wall and as she tries to move forward she pushes her back, pressing against her with the weight and strength of a fully grown adult. "Let me go," Takano says, trying to impress upon her the severity of her words, though there's little she could do to Rika that she hasn't already.

"How do you want to die?" she asks. Before Takano can even begin to answer, Rika begins speaking again, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. "Do you want the Yamainu to kill you, as they do every time? You are no longer useful to them. They will make it quick." The words are simple and the tone is flat, but Takano shivers nonetheless, and Rika looks pleased. There is more than truth resounding in her voice.

"Tell me my options," she says, her voice rough.

"You can stay here," whispers Rika, "and be gunned down once you leave the building, by any exit, by men who will never be identified or charged. You have died this way hundreds of times."

She grabs hold of Takano's hands once again, and this time she does not resist. As their fingers intertwine, Takano sees something genuine and frightening light up in her eyes, and she feels too-hot and reckless.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Higurashi no naku Koro ni, Takano/(older)Rika, I thought I killed you (2 of 2) - (Anonymous), 2008-09-25 12:56 am UTC
Re: Higurashi no naku Koro ni, Takano/(older)Rika, I thought I killed you (2 of 2) - (Anonymous), 2008-09-25 01:56 am UTC
Yami no Matsuei, Tenkuu/Touda, darkness and shadows
[info]pegunicent
2008-09-25 02:28 am UTC (link)
Time is hard to measure in the pitch black of his cell. Anger is slow to kindle. Eventually it catches fire and rage courses through his blood. The stone traps his snarls and echoes with his screams. Like a wildfire it spends itself, running out of fuel and air to leave embers of hatred glowing in the darkness of his heart.

Bound, chained, blind, he can still hear the beat of his heart pounding. He can smell the dust and must mixing with his own filth, taste the layers of shadows Tenkuu casts over him like a sheltering blanket. They don't speak, captive and prison, but they know each other. Tenkuu knows his hate, his rage, his complete lack of guilt. He knows Tenkuu hates him.

The palace hides him in its bowels. Locked away, buried, ever under a sleepless eye. He can feel the disgust in every shift of air as Tenkuu breathes. The shift and clutch of shadows, the bite and stretch of his chains pulled taut tease him with just the fiction of pain. Of something real.

His laughter bounces over stone and bone as he gives in to the urge to struggle. To summon his own darkness. Hell fire and heat, blacker than a demon's heart blood on a moonless night wreathes him for a mere moment. Tenkuu's mocking yank of the chains just make him try again.

I'm still alive. Cast me down, beat me, bury me, fuck me blind, but I'm still alive. He promises silently, golden eyes reflecting the only light of a dying star.

The chains pull tight and he arches into the sting of sharpened iron.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Yami no Matsuei, Tenkuu/Touda, darkness and shadows - [info]dancing_serpent, 2008-09-25 05:23 am UTC
Re: Yami no Matsuei, Tenkuu/Touda, darkness and shadows - [info]pegunicent, 2008-09-25 08:45 am UTC
Re: Yami no Matsuei, Tenkuu/Touda, darkness and shadows - [info]dancing_serpent, 2008-10-03 03:56 pm UTC
Bleach, Ichigo/Uryu, callused hands
[info]ificouldfly
2008-09-25 03:01 am UTC (link)
They didn't know where they were, only that it was dark and cold and there were hard walls everywhere, blocking every turn, a maze of concrete and tile. They went as long as they could, but no one can go forever, and when they sank to the ground back to back it was in exhaustion.

They didn't mean to fall asleep, but after wandering for hours, keeping their eyes open was more difficult than anything in the world. In their sleep they shivered, and huddled together until finally one woke up to find the other curled around him.

Ichigo stared at the strange arm holding him close. He didn't know whose hand it was. He didn't know anyone with calloses like that, on the finger tips and in a stripe across the palm. That white sleeve, now that was familiar; that was Uryu-san's. But the hand? Uryu had girly hands, kept soft for sewing and crafts, hands that did not seem to know hard work. These hands had scars. These had seen battles.

There was breath on his neck, soft and warm, and something metal was digging into the tender skin there. Metal, not sharp, but round. Round. Like glasses. But it couldn't be Uryu's glasses, because these were not Uryu's hands. Neither was that Uryu's leg over his, nor his black hair drifting into Ichigo's face. No, no, it couldn't be...

"Are you awake?" Uryu whispered in his ear.

"Y-yes," Ichigo finally whispered back.

"Just checking, shinigami."

"Whatever."

Uryu's voice seemed to hesitate. "You dreamed about Rukia-san."

"What of it?"

"Just- nothing. Just wondering if you knew." A little shiver went down his spine.

"Are you cold?" Ichigo asked. "Here, I'm kindof hot. Turn over, switch places with me."

Uryu froze for a moment, then did as he was told. A moment later Ichigo's front was pressed against his back, one arm wrapped around his stomach and another under his head. Ichigo sighed in relief as his back hit the cool air, and Uryu repressed another shiver at the sound.

"Better?" Ichigo asked, leaning his forehead against Uryu's head in the most comfortable position he could find.

"Yeah." Uryu stared at the hand covering his. "Um, thanks."

"No problem." Ichigo stroked a finger over Uryu's delicate hand, with its long, slim fingers, so different from his own wide hand, and again those funny calluses. "Hey, where did you get calluses from?"

"My bow, of course." Uryu hoped his voice sounded normal. "They're a little...different from yours because I only use certain parts of my hand for it. Yours are all over from gripping a hilt, but my weapon is more, ah, delicate."

"Oh, yeah," Ichigo replied. Of course. Why hadn't he realized it? "Don't they interphere with your crafts?"

His finger ran over them again and this time Uryu couldn't stop the shiver, and the way his body pressed agianst Ichigo's. In return, Ichigo pulled him in closer and rested his face against Uryu's neck. Uryu's chest hurt from keeping his breath even, and waves of heat were pouring down his body.

"Um, Ichigo, could you not do that?" 'Please don't ask me why,' was the added prayer.

Ichigo stared at the pale neck in front of him.

"What if I said no?"

Uryu froze, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. "No?"

"No."

"Then...then...I would be fine with that."

Ichigo opened his mouth and breathed in deeply, then rested his lips against Uryu's neck.

"Good," he whispered, "because I like it right here."

Uryu, as if in a dream, shifted his fingers so that they were intertwined with Ichigo's.

"I like your calluses," Uryu whispered.

A tiny, shaky kiss landed on Uryu's neck as Ichigo let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and closed his eyes.

"I like yours too."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Bleach, Ichigo/Uryu, callused hands - [info]hullabaloo, 2008-09-25 04:50 am UTC
Re: Bleach, Ichigo/Uryu, callused hands - [info]ificouldfly, 2008-09-25 05:43 am UTC
Yami no Matsuei, Souryuu/Touda, at the end of all things
[info]pegunicent
2008-09-25 03:02 am UTC (link)
It's anticlimactic.

No great battle, no final duel to the death, their powers wrecking havok on the very landscape as they pour blood and hate and pain out in violence.

No trickery, no schemes to escape or twist the blame, thrust guilt on the innocent.

For two warriors, both blooded war veterans and master killers, it's very... anticlimactic. Over before it even began.

"I'm going to kill the Emperor."
"No."
"Yes."
"I won't let you do this. I can't Touda. Listen to yourself!"
"Then arrest me for betrayal of the crown."


After that... things blur. There are court hearings, a trial, Touda says nothing to save himself and on the last night before he's locked away, Soryuu finds himself pleading for the serpent to repent. Begging the only way his pride will allow.

Touda will always taste of ash. Scrubbed raw, sweat slick and sticky with their mixed fluids, his mouth is still wet smoke and ruin.

Soryuu knows the snake was right. He'll never wash away the war, the past, the heart ache sitting beneath his breast.

"Touda."

"Drink your tears Soryuu. Your pain is the only thing you own."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Yami no Matsuei, Souryuu/Touda, at the end of all things - [info]dancing_serpent, 2008-09-25 05:33 am UTC
Re: Yami no Matsuei, Souryuu/Touda, at the end of all things - [info]pegunicent, 2008-09-25 08:47 am UTC
Fate/stay night, dark!Sakura/Rin, making up for lost time
[info]mabis
2008-09-25 03:37 am UTC (link)
Rin felt the ribbons of darkness slither all over her body. It was ripping off her clothes and caressing her naked skin.

"You've been a terrible sister, haven't you?" Sakura said in a mocking tone. "Leaving me alone to face those monsters by myself. You're going to have to make up for all that time I suffered, you know." She began fondling Rin's breasts, grinning when Rin let out a soft yelp. Rin then felt her sister's fingers rub her clit, and couldn't help from letting out a moan.

The more Sakura stroked her, the less Rin bothered to resist. She knew she was falling into the darkness that had overtaken her sister, and she knew that if she didn't do anything to stop it, the darkness would overtake her too.

But those fingers felt so good, too good, in fact, and it was already too late. Rin let herself go, and dropped into the abyss. She screamed out in pleasure and desire as she climaxed, and then her world turned black.


"Now we'll be together forever," Sakura whispered in her sister's ear once the ribbons of darkness clad Rin in the same slinky black dress as herself.

Rin smiled. She was now part of the darkness, and there would be plenty of time to show her sister just how much she missed her.

(Reply to this)


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