Entry tags:

amatsuki, elixir, genjuu no seiza, petshop of horrors

[FIC] Various
THIS! IS! FICDUUUUUUMP!

Which is to say: there are 1.5 fics of moderate length that I'm working on, and my "IN PROGRESS" document is getting a little cluttered with random drabbles I never came back to. So I'm posting them here so that they can have a permanent home. These are unedited and unfinished, for the most part. Reader beware, and all that.

Amatsuki: Young Byakuroku and Tsuyukusa's father, 226 words

He was young when the humans first arrived.

They brought with them the tools of their trade-- saws and hammers for the workmen, bells and incense for the priests. As the first group hacked at the first of the trees, the priests chanted and gestured as though their piety would protect them from what lay within the unknown depths of the forest. Though they feared for their safety, they remained convinced of their own righteousness.

Byakuroku had been reminded of the single-minded destructive determination of termites.

"Leave them in peace," his master had murmured. "All creatures deserve a place to live. Humans are no different."

"But the forest is ours," Byakuroku argued. His tail coiled and uncoiled, scales rasping against one another in his anxiousness.

With a sigh, his master cupped Byakuroku's jaw with the palm of his hand. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Byakuroku, the forest is large. We can spare a small section for them. Besides, what would happen if we argued with them? Before the ground had even absorbed their blood, more humans would arrive. And then they would want the whole of the forest."

An irritated hiss escaped Byakuroku's lips, but he merely nodded his head and leaned into his master's touch.

But as the humans continued their work, he kept an eye on them, just in case.

Genjuu no Seiza: Fuuto, 116 words

Fuuto dreamed of sand and clear skies. Outside the sun-bleached walls of his palace, there was nothing but nothing for miles in every direction. But under the many glittering arches and green trellises, the colorful mosaics were cool under his bare feet. Soft strains of exotic music drifted through an open window.

Sometimes he was male, sometimes female. Tall, short, lean, curvacious. Dark skin, light skin, all manner and styles of hair-- but every body felt as comfortable as the flowing silk draped over his chest, felt familiar like the faint smell of incense drifting through the air.

He woke up with the words of a language he didn't speak still on his tongue.

Elixir/Petshop of Horrors: Lorenzo and D, 116 words

It wasn't unheard of for a traveller from the Orient to make the treacherous journey drown the full length of the Silk Road, though it was hardly common. Even in the strangest of his social circles, Lorenzo had only met a few, and they had all been merchants. And despite their unique faces and strange mannerisms, a merchant was a merchant. Rather than entertain his elaborately pantomimed questions, they had been more interested in selling him a bolt of travel-worn silk.

He had found them exceedingly boring.

They were certainly nothing like the man he found in the exclusive salons of Istanbul. He was all sharp-edged smiles and elegant gestures, a perfect combination of ivory skin and vermillion silks. Despite himself, Lorenzo was captivated.

"You're too kind," the Count murmured, closing his fan with a snap. He set it on the low table to accept the small cake Lorenzo had seduced out of the pastry girl. His long nails brushed over the inside of Lorenzo's wrist.

Elixir/Petshop of Horrors: Lorenzo/D (NSFW), 234 words

The inside of D's thigh was as smooth and pale as fine silk against Lorenzo's lips. He drew the man's leg up to hook it over his shoulder, pressing his cheek to the pulse he could feel there. "You're getting better," he murmured against the skin, enjoying the breathless laugh it drew from D.

"Oh? Is my performance still not, ah, satisfactory, prince?" D's back arched, his head falling back against the perfumed pile of pillows as Lorenzo pressed another kiss to the crease of his thigh. His smile was as unreadable as always, despite his flushed cheeks and opulent brocade gown unfastened and lying open around over his shoulders. One long-nailed hand lazily stroked through Lorenzo's unruly hair.

"Mm. Your accent still needs work, I'm afraid." Lorenzo ghosted his breath over D's cock. D's whole frame shuddered in response, and Lorenzo found himself wanting to mirror the action at the soft moan that escaped D's lips.

The elegant fingers in Lorenzo's hair tightened almost painfully as D tugged his head to regard him with amusement. "Then I should... consider myself lucky to have such a dedicated teacher, I suppose." D's mismatched eyes were briefly hidden, his lids lowering as Lorenzo's gloved fingers wrapped around his cock. When he opened them again, their gaze was hypnotizing. "You have my, nn, gratitude, caro mio."

"Slightly better," Lorenzo said, grinning, and leaned in to kiss him.