Word #163

[katiefoolery.livejournal.com]

This the last prompt word for the year! The prompts will be back next year with a new team of mods. More on this soon.

Don't look at the word until you are ready to write. When your fifteen minutes are up and you have completed your ficlet, you may either post it as a response here, or post a link to the ficlet in your own journal. If posting on your own journal, please hide the prompt word in some way (ie. under an LJ-cut) in order to avoid spoiling it for others.

Today's word is: crusade

You can copy and paste this code when posting your ficlet if desired.
<b>Title:</b> <b>Fandom/original:</b> <b>Characters:</b> <b>Rating:</b> <b>Word count:</b>

Have a fantastic festive season!

Comments

Beginner

[(Anonymous)]

Hi,

I begin on internet with a directory

It's rather late, but

[knight-random.livejournal.com]

Title: Knight of Faith
Fandom: Forever Knight
Rating/warnings: PG-13, some references to massacres and such
Length: ~500 words
Summary: Nick Knight reflects on the crusades he has fought in, past and present, and how he became a monster

Knight of Faith (http://knight-random.livejournal.com/8802.html)

[realising-klaus.livejournal.com]

Title: Deliciously crusading
Fandom/original: Kuroshitsuji
Characters: Grell Sutcliffe, Sebastian Michaelis
Rating: T
Word count: 166

He had seen crusades before; he had been on a crusade too, but he had always preferred just sitting nearby and watching those silly human souls fighting each other and inevitably dying.
He wouldn't think it would be such a crusade.
The simple undressing became so complicated— red coat, black vest, white blues, red ribbon, scarlet bites; the chain began with red, it must end with it as well. And so many hands everywhere on his body, like soldiers' hands in search for their guns— but, oh, he was looking for a precise gun, he murmured with a chuckle, big, long and, hmm, so hard.
He stroke the counterattack right inside his soft body, and made him moan loudly and then pant slightly, with those lovely red lips of his naively parted— and it was his turn to bite and lick at those tender lips, like he was spilling blood from the men he had killed.
Eventually, he would win as usual, when those lips would invoke his name like victims asking for mercy— Seb— Sebastian!