gracie_musica (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gracie_musica) wrote2005-11-14 08:00 pm
gracie_musica) wrote2005-11-14 08:00 pm
Entry tags:
Word Count: 17,317 of 50,000
Title: Binding
Date Written: 11/14/05
Rating: PG for now, eventual NC-17
Word Count: 925
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!
Characters/Pairings: Murata, Yuuri/Wolfram, Conrad, Cheri, Greta, Gwendal/Anissina
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: Part two of three... I think. :: chuckles ::
Yuuri could feel his blood rushing in his ears. He was sweating profusely, so nervous, so confident that something was going to go wrong; that Wolfram would back out, that Greta would trip and fall and hurt herself, that the Original King wouldn't agree with the union and the candle would gut out...
Although with the way things were going, it looked like the only imminent problem would be if he himself fainted.
Greta looked just plain adorable, walking down the aisle in a dark purple dress, so dark it was almost black. She was carefully carrying the candle, the flame flickering as she walked. The little girl had to raise up onto tiptoe to put it on the table that was serving as the altar, and afterward she scurried over to give Yuuri a quick hug around the middle. The dark-haired king smiled as he hugged her back, stroking her hair lovingly as she smiled up at him. She was so excited: Little Greta had been the one to wake up Yuuri, so happy that her fathers were finally getting married.
Greta scurried off to stand next to Conrad, holding her uncle's hand as Gwendal approached the party. Yuuri's Chief of State was wearing his customary dark green uniform and frown, but when he stopped to stare menacingly down at the Maou, his face broke into an uncharacteristic smile. While most would consider the smile more of a grimace, for Gwendal it was near akin to Conrad's eternal smile. The tall aristocrat clapped a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, and moved to his position without a word.
Here it comes.
The entire assembly turned to stare at the open doorway where Cheri and Wolfram should be standing...
Only there was no one there.
Yuuri literally felt his heart drop into his shoes. It was over, they were done, Wolf had bailed...
And then, there they were. Two sets of emerald green eyes, two blonde mops of hair. Yuuri dimly realized that his mother-in-law was wearing more jewelry than normal, most likely trying to grab the attention of one of the male attendees. All he had eyes for were his fiancee... no, for his husband.
Wolfram was dressed in his customary blue uniform; however, the color was a darker blue than the bright primary hue it usually was due to the fact that the prince was becoming royalty.
The Royal Consort, Murata had snickered the night before when the two were parting for the night, making the blonde swordsman turn a fantastic shade of red and chase the Sage down the hall.
He was smiling, too, really smiling at Yuuri, his green eyes dancing with joy.
Cheri bestowed a huge kiss on each of the lover's cheek before retreating to her seat in the front row, Greta following to perch herself on her grandmother's lap.
"Yuuri, Wolfram, please join left hands and look at one another," Murata requested, watching fondly as the lovers did so, not taking their eyes off one another.
"I thought you had run," Yuuri told Wolfram in a low voice when Murata began the ceremony.
"Never," Wolf replied, smiling a bit. "Mother decided she wanted a darker shade of red lipstick than what she had on."
Yuuri chuckled a bit, watching as Gwendal put their rings on their hands and Conrad tied the white muslin cloth around their hands. He looked back at Wolfram and almost missed the cue Murata was giving him.
"Yuuri, do you wish to be bound to Wolfram?"
The king suddenly felt his throat constrict and he nodded, unable to trust himself to speak clearly.
Ken asked the same question to the blonde, and got a 'yes' before he had even finished saying Yuuri's name. Green eyes never left the dark obsidian orbs before him.
"If anyone present has any just cause as to why these two should not be bound, may they speak now or forever remain silent."
The dark-haired teen didn't trust himself to look at the candle burning on the table; instead, his gaze dropped down to their bound hands. He could feel himself shaking, and Wolfram squeezed his hand reassuringly. Looking up, he found those deep green eyes calm and bright. The blonde let a smile slide across his face, one that was loving and shit-eating at the same time: One that said, screw what the others think, you're MINE.
Yuuri smiled back and squeezed the pale hand in his in return.
"So be it," Murata's voice cut through the silence, and Yuuri couldn't resist looking at him.
The candle was still burning bright.
"I now pronounce you bound. What you two have bound, may no man sever," Murata declared, smiling at the couple.
Wolfram smiled and moved their hands over the candle. The ends of the muslin caught fire, and the blonde prince used his magic to manipulate the flame so it burned the fabric but not flesh. Yuuri's eyes went wide as he watched the red-orange flame dance around his hand, the crowd's gasps of surprise and slight alarm bouncing in his ears.
But Wolfram's eyes were calm, and Yuuri trusted his... husband.
As the ashes fell smoldering to the floor, Yuuri pulled Wolf close to him and planted a long, passionate kiss on his new spouse. The blonde moaned faintly under the kiss, his hands coming up to wrap around Yuuri's neck and twine through his hair.
Yuuri felt the cool metal band press against his scalp and immediately deepened the kiss.
Neither one of them heard the deafening cheer from the assembly.
---
Title: Probably Wouldn't Be This Way
Date Written: 11/14/05
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 573
Fandom: FAKE
Characters/Pairings: Diana/Berkley (I know, teh evil het), Dee/Ryo
Warnings: Angst. God, the angst.
Spoilers: Through Book Seven
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: Inspired by LeAnn Rime's song by the same name. Slight AU after the 7th book--I'm taking creative license and throwing Like Like Love out the window.
Diana Spacey put her hands in her pockets as she stared at the tombstone before her. Falls in New York were so cold compared to her home in LA. It wasn't often that she was on the East Coast, now that the Bennet/Grant case was closed. The cartel had collapsed in on itself after Leo Grant had died, the remaining drug lords killing each other off as they desperately fought to get a piece of the property.
But there had been casualties on both sides of the law. Which is why she was in the graveyard today.
"Hey Berks."
---
Diana had always loved Berkley Rose, since the moment she saw him.
Well, it probably wasn't love at first sight, per se. Maybe more that she liked him from the moment she met him. He was arrogant and haughty and so damn perfect it could be infuriating. And she would be the first to admit that there certainly was the chemistry between them.
Friends with benefits, the term was.
Eventually, she began to want... more. Not more in bed, certainly, but only him in her bed.
But Berkley couldn't be pinned down by just one woman. Even if that woman was Diana Spacey. Even though the sex was great, and it kept him coming back.
She did tell him, once, that she loved him. Right after sex, as the two of them enjoyed the post-coital bliss of orgasm.
He had laughed, kissed her and said, "You don't love me, Dee Dee."
The hurt and anger of the statement had faded, but the feelings behind it didn't. In fact, they had strengthened over time.
Before she could tell him again, though, a bullet had brought her life to a complete stand still.
---
His funeral had been packed, standing room only. He was, after all, a police commissioner.
And the first three rows of pews were stuffed full of sobbing women... and men... mourning the loss of a lover.
Afterward, Ryo had talked Dee into taking the FBI agent back to his apartment so she could stay with someone for the night. The dark-haired detective had been so kind to her, and reminded her so strongly of Berkley that while she was drowning in her sorrow, she climbed up into his lap and tried to make out with him.
Dee had to grab her arms and pull her away from him to make her stop. "Diana, I am not Berkley!"
That statement made her stop, staring wide-eyed at the detective before she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. The dark-haired man had held her until she fell asleep, and taken care of her until she was able to pick herself up and continue with her life, even if a major person was no longer in it.
---
Ryo and Dee found Diana leaning against Rose's tombstone, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were closed as she cried softly, and Dee wrapped an arm around Ryo's waist, pulling him close. "She looks so lost."
"It's only been a year," Ryo replied, leaning his head against Dee's shoulder as he wrapped his own arms around the taller detective's waist. "I'd be locked in a room still if I lost you."
Dee pressed a kiss into Ryo's blonde locks. "God willing, you never will."
And because Berkley couldn't, the two detectives kept a watchful eye on the FBI agent.
---
Title: Is Not
Date Written: 11/14/05
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 100
Fandom: Saiyuki
Characters/Pairings: Gojyo/Hakkai
Warnings: Probably not worksafe
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: Inspired by my beta (love you Kou!). Something to counteract the angst in the above post. Set pre-trip.
"Hey... Hakkai?"
"Yes Gojyo?"
"This book you were reading... It's full of smut stories."
"Why, yes. Yes it is."
"Why are you reading porn?"
"It's erotica, not porn."
"Sure, and I read Playboy for the articles."
"Erotica is different than porn, Gojyo. Porn is visual, and just about jacking off. When you read erotica, you get more... involved in the action."
Touch.
Stroke.
"You can feel the touches, hear the sounds... Your pulse races from mere words, they arouse you because your imagination tailors the fantasy to your personal likes. Erotica's more... sensual."
Pause.
"Hey, 'Kai?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you read to me later?"
"Of course."
Date Written: 11/14/05
Rating: PG for now, eventual NC-17
Word Count: 925
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!
Characters/Pairings: Murata, Yuuri/Wolfram, Conrad, Cheri, Greta, Gwendal/Anissina
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: Part two of three... I think. :: chuckles ::
Yuuri could feel his blood rushing in his ears. He was sweating profusely, so nervous, so confident that something was going to go wrong; that Wolfram would back out, that Greta would trip and fall and hurt herself, that the Original King wouldn't agree with the union and the candle would gut out...
Although with the way things were going, it looked like the only imminent problem would be if he himself fainted.
Greta looked just plain adorable, walking down the aisle in a dark purple dress, so dark it was almost black. She was carefully carrying the candle, the flame flickering as she walked. The little girl had to raise up onto tiptoe to put it on the table that was serving as the altar, and afterward she scurried over to give Yuuri a quick hug around the middle. The dark-haired king smiled as he hugged her back, stroking her hair lovingly as she smiled up at him. She was so excited: Little Greta had been the one to wake up Yuuri, so happy that her fathers were finally getting married.
Greta scurried off to stand next to Conrad, holding her uncle's hand as Gwendal approached the party. Yuuri's Chief of State was wearing his customary dark green uniform and frown, but when he stopped to stare menacingly down at the Maou, his face broke into an uncharacteristic smile. While most would consider the smile more of a grimace, for Gwendal it was near akin to Conrad's eternal smile. The tall aristocrat clapped a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, and moved to his position without a word.
Here it comes.
The entire assembly turned to stare at the open doorway where Cheri and Wolfram should be standing...
Only there was no one there.
Yuuri literally felt his heart drop into his shoes. It was over, they were done, Wolf had bailed...
And then, there they were. Two sets of emerald green eyes, two blonde mops of hair. Yuuri dimly realized that his mother-in-law was wearing more jewelry than normal, most likely trying to grab the attention of one of the male attendees. All he had eyes for were his fiancee... no, for his husband.
Wolfram was dressed in his customary blue uniform; however, the color was a darker blue than the bright primary hue it usually was due to the fact that the prince was becoming royalty.
The Royal Consort, Murata had snickered the night before when the two were parting for the night, making the blonde swordsman turn a fantastic shade of red and chase the Sage down the hall.
He was smiling, too, really smiling at Yuuri, his green eyes dancing with joy.
Cheri bestowed a huge kiss on each of the lover's cheek before retreating to her seat in the front row, Greta following to perch herself on her grandmother's lap.
"Yuuri, Wolfram, please join left hands and look at one another," Murata requested, watching fondly as the lovers did so, not taking their eyes off one another.
"I thought you had run," Yuuri told Wolfram in a low voice when Murata began the ceremony.
"Never," Wolf replied, smiling a bit. "Mother decided she wanted a darker shade of red lipstick than what she had on."
Yuuri chuckled a bit, watching as Gwendal put their rings on their hands and Conrad tied the white muslin cloth around their hands. He looked back at Wolfram and almost missed the cue Murata was giving him.
"Yuuri, do you wish to be bound to Wolfram?"
The king suddenly felt his throat constrict and he nodded, unable to trust himself to speak clearly.
Ken asked the same question to the blonde, and got a 'yes' before he had even finished saying Yuuri's name. Green eyes never left the dark obsidian orbs before him.
"If anyone present has any just cause as to why these two should not be bound, may they speak now or forever remain silent."
The dark-haired teen didn't trust himself to look at the candle burning on the table; instead, his gaze dropped down to their bound hands. He could feel himself shaking, and Wolfram squeezed his hand reassuringly. Looking up, he found those deep green eyes calm and bright. The blonde let a smile slide across his face, one that was loving and shit-eating at the same time: One that said, screw what the others think, you're MINE.
Yuuri smiled back and squeezed the pale hand in his in return.
"So be it," Murata's voice cut through the silence, and Yuuri couldn't resist looking at him.
The candle was still burning bright.
"I now pronounce you bound. What you two have bound, may no man sever," Murata declared, smiling at the couple.
Wolfram smiled and moved their hands over the candle. The ends of the muslin caught fire, and the blonde prince used his magic to manipulate the flame so it burned the fabric but not flesh. Yuuri's eyes went wide as he watched the red-orange flame dance around his hand, the crowd's gasps of surprise and slight alarm bouncing in his ears.
But Wolfram's eyes were calm, and Yuuri trusted his... husband.
As the ashes fell smoldering to the floor, Yuuri pulled Wolf close to him and planted a long, passionate kiss on his new spouse. The blonde moaned faintly under the kiss, his hands coming up to wrap around Yuuri's neck and twine through his hair.
Yuuri felt the cool metal band press against his scalp and immediately deepened the kiss.
Neither one of them heard the deafening cheer from the assembly.
---
Title: Probably Wouldn't Be This Way
Date Written: 11/14/05
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 573
Fandom: FAKE
Characters/Pairings: Diana/Berkley (I know, teh evil het), Dee/Ryo
Warnings: Angst. God, the angst.
Spoilers: Through Book Seven
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: Inspired by LeAnn Rime's song by the same name. Slight AU after the 7th book--I'm taking creative license and throwing Like Like Love out the window.
Diana Spacey put her hands in her pockets as she stared at the tombstone before her. Falls in New York were so cold compared to her home in LA. It wasn't often that she was on the East Coast, now that the Bennet/Grant case was closed. The cartel had collapsed in on itself after Leo Grant had died, the remaining drug lords killing each other off as they desperately fought to get a piece of the property.
But there had been casualties on both sides of the law. Which is why she was in the graveyard today.
"Hey Berks."
---
Diana had always loved Berkley Rose, since the moment she saw him.
Well, it probably wasn't love at first sight, per se. Maybe more that she liked him from the moment she met him. He was arrogant and haughty and so damn perfect it could be infuriating. And she would be the first to admit that there certainly was the chemistry between them.
Friends with benefits, the term was.
Eventually, she began to want... more. Not more in bed, certainly, but only him in her bed.
But Berkley couldn't be pinned down by just one woman. Even if that woman was Diana Spacey. Even though the sex was great, and it kept him coming back.
She did tell him, once, that she loved him. Right after sex, as the two of them enjoyed the post-coital bliss of orgasm.
He had laughed, kissed her and said, "You don't love me, Dee Dee."
The hurt and anger of the statement had faded, but the feelings behind it didn't. In fact, they had strengthened over time.
Before she could tell him again, though, a bullet had brought her life to a complete stand still.
---
His funeral had been packed, standing room only. He was, after all, a police commissioner.
And the first three rows of pews were stuffed full of sobbing women... and men... mourning the loss of a lover.
Afterward, Ryo had talked Dee into taking the FBI agent back to his apartment so she could stay with someone for the night. The dark-haired detective had been so kind to her, and reminded her so strongly of Berkley that while she was drowning in her sorrow, she climbed up into his lap and tried to make out with him.
Dee had to grab her arms and pull her away from him to make her stop. "Diana, I am not Berkley!"
That statement made her stop, staring wide-eyed at the detective before she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. The dark-haired man had held her until she fell asleep, and taken care of her until she was able to pick herself up and continue with her life, even if a major person was no longer in it.
---
Ryo and Dee found Diana leaning against Rose's tombstone, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were closed as she cried softly, and Dee wrapped an arm around Ryo's waist, pulling him close. "She looks so lost."
"It's only been a year," Ryo replied, leaning his head against Dee's shoulder as he wrapped his own arms around the taller detective's waist. "I'd be locked in a room still if I lost you."
Dee pressed a kiss into Ryo's blonde locks. "God willing, you never will."
And because Berkley couldn't, the two detectives kept a watchful eye on the FBI agent.
---
Title: Is Not
Date Written: 11/14/05
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 100
Fandom: Saiyuki
Characters/Pairings: Gojyo/Hakkai
Warnings: Probably not worksafe
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: Inspired by my beta (love you Kou!). Something to counteract the angst in the above post. Set pre-trip.
"Hey... Hakkai?"
"Yes Gojyo?"
"This book you were reading... It's full of smut stories."
"Why, yes. Yes it is."
"Why are you reading porn?"
"It's erotica, not porn."
"Sure, and I read Playboy for the articles."
"Erotica is different than porn, Gojyo. Porn is visual, and just about jacking off. When you read erotica, you get more... involved in the action."
Touch.
Stroke.
"You can feel the touches, hear the sounds... Your pulse races from mere words, they arouse you because your imagination tailors the fantasy to your personal likes. Erotica's more... sensual."
Pause.
"Hey, 'Kai?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you read to me later?"
"Of course."