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Post by Kierah on Aug 29, 2006 1:28:50 GMT 9.5
OOOOOO: Kierah does fanfic100.
There's a chronicle in my ff.net account, but I'll post 'em here. They only really go up to PG-13/T, so those of you who want steamy sex, look elsewhere. XDD
Mostly they're from Erik's point of view, but a few are from Madame Giry's. Generally they're centered around when they're both younger, at some point before Meg's birth, and maybe a little bit when MG's returned.
Yeah. So I'm just going to post them here.
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Post by Kierah on Aug 29, 2006 1:30:40 GMT 9.5
Click.
Shoes on stone. He'd recognize the sound anywhere, he was sure. Her shoes. He lifted his head. There she was. Vibrant. Red hair, braided, so it stayed out of her clear eyes. Gold in that hair so that it wasn't shrill. She looked lovely. She moved with the grace of years of practice, balance, dancing. Sometimes she would kiss his cheek and say in her autumn-leaves voice, “Bonjour, Erik.” It was one of those days. Sometimes her lips would brush across his forehead, maybe if he asked. Love. He wanted more. He grabbed her and pulled her down, nearly onto his lap.
Her hands tensed and shook when their lips met.
Nervous. You aren't good enough for her, Erik.
Not good enough for her.
Devil's Child.
She doesn't want a demon.
He recoiled as if burned, she slid away and stumbled, she nearly fell. “No,” she said to him, and his heart nearly stopped. “No, Erik, don't turn away from me, don't-”
She wants a demon.
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Post by Kierah on Aug 29, 2006 1:31:30 GMT 9.5
Red. Red for her hair, the way it glinted in candlelight. Red for the greasy paint she would be forced to color her lips with for performances, so that she would look lovelier. Red for the swathes of fabric she brought for him one day, and they hung it all over the walls and red for the blood humming through his veins that made him feel alive with every kiss.
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Post by Kierah on Aug 29, 2006 1:34:34 GMT 9.5
She put her foot down the wrong way. She had been getting careless. It slid out from under her, and time seemed to freeze, just for a moment, and then she fell. She skidded along, knocked her head, and thought she heard something crack. She dragged a hand over to where she was sure she was injured the worst- on her leg. She felt something warm and wet, brought her fingers back into her line of vision, and promptly fainted.
She had never been able to stomach the sight of blood.
She woke up sprawled in an ungainly way across tattered cushions. Erik. Of course. Her leg throbbed painfully and she lifted her aching head so that she could look around properly. He came forward. He had put his leather mask on. She had promised to find him a better one because the leather irritated his skin. “What happened?” she asked.
“You're broken,” he said, and kissed her gently.
“No,” she said, “I'm not.”
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Post by ladygiry on Aug 29, 2006 6:05:30 GMT 9.5
You know I love all of these!!!!!!!!!! ;D
Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik, Girik
Okay, I'm done.
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Post by Morgause on Aug 29, 2006 6:33:36 GMT 9.5
Ohhh I've just finished to read this story in fanfiction.net!!!! I reviwed it better there, but I need to say again that I'm liking it very much!!!! ;D
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Post by Morgause on Aug 29, 2006 6:35:06 GMT 9.5
Ups... sorry for the double post... I forgot to question, what is a fanfiction100? *blushs*
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Post by Kierah on Aug 29, 2006 6:38:44 GMT 9.5
fanfic100 is a community on livejournal. ^^ They give you 100 prompts and you have to write a ficlet or drabble for each.
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Post by Morgause on Aug 29, 2006 7:14:45 GMT 9.5
Ahhh, I see! Thank you!
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Post by Kierah on Aug 29, 2006 7:49:16 GMT 9.5
WARNING: very brief and very mild nudity. there's no actual description... but I think if I didn't put this up here at least one person would be like, 'uhh... you could have told us.' ______________________________
He had read in his books that humankind used to worship a Goddess. A woman-figure, and that the female body had once been revered.
He traced the outline of his Antoinette's lips, where she lay sprawled out on his bed, unclothed. Kissed her, but pulled back and she made a noise of protest. He traced the curve of her slender neck and brushed a kiss to the hollow of her throat, making her shudder. Her chest heaved as he drew an invisible path between her breasts and then slid his hands down, along her hips, the flat plane of her stomach, along her slender legs.
He understood the heathens in their pagan ways. He could understand worshiping a woman- what wasn't there to worship, anyway?
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Post by ladygiry on Aug 29, 2006 8:36:33 GMT 9.5
Ahhhh...'tis heated, passionate ficcy love. ;D
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Post by Morgause on Aug 29, 2006 9:22:05 GMT 9.5
Ahhh... The Phantom of the Opera with a little touch of The Mist of Avalon (I presumed it, sorry if I'm wrong...)!! What more could I ask???
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Post by Kierah on Aug 29, 2006 9:40:47 GMT 9.5
OF COURSE IT'S THE MISTS OF AVALON. XDDDDD That's where I got the inspiration for the piece, and can you blame me? The Goddess is far too interesting. (;
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Post by Morgause on Aug 30, 2006 9:57:08 GMT 9.5
Hihihih! I knew it!! I can't barely wait for the next chapter!!!! ;D
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Post by Incapability on Sept 2, 2006 0:56:26 GMT 9.5
*drools*
wonderful ... I' loving it!
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