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2x1 ficcie bit! ^___^
umm. I worked a little bit more on an old fic... Usually I'm taking it, putting it in a corner again, reworking some bits, forgetting it again...
I'm mostly happy with that one bit though, even if it will need some rewording and a lot of betareading.
Title of the fic is Virgin Sacrifice and the plot is as cliche as you can imagine :P
I do have to rewrite the beginning of the fic, though. It's going to be a 2x1, true, but still, I hate weepy-uke!heero, even when he has a good reason.
Very Basic Summary: Heero is given to the demon Deathscythe to appease him. He Doesn't Like It.
In this chapter, Duo, being bored and wanting Heero to be in top form for when he does end up ravishing him (because he's taking his sweet time) decides to give him basic sword training. (he also likes a lot to watch Heero sweating in a white shirt, and touching him all over to correct his position ain't that bad either) But he demands a kiss in exchange for his lesson. (if you're wondering why heero accepts it's because it's better than staying chained to the bed all day ^^; )
Suddenly, the demon caught his foot with a hand and whirled around, so fast that Heero couldn't follow the move. The world blurred, and then, there was a collision with a hard surface. When his head stopped spinning, he was laying on the ground, the Nightchild sprawled all over him.
"What the hell..." 'is this supposed to teach me,' he didn't have the time to say.
"The hour is up, little boy," the demon breathed, his face not an inch away from his own. "Pay up."
Heero's eyes met those of the demon, those gleaming rings of unnatural purple, and he felt faint.
He was totally trapped under that hard body, and the demon was breathing hard too, his warm breath caressing Heero's face and his torso pressing against his own. The longhaired being's legs were trapping his own, preventing him from moving, their groins pressed together. To prevent himself from thrashing like he knew the demon liked, he had to think that it could have been worse, that He could have forced his way between Heero's thighs.
"It was supposed to be a kiss, not a make-out session. Get off me," he commanded in a harsh voice, hiding his sudden trouble and apprehension.
He hadn't let himself think too hard about the price he had to pay. And now that he had to... Gods. He had to kiss the demon. Heero wanted to shiver, but he managed not to.
He pushed against Deathscythe's shoulder, glaring.
"You're not fun," the demon drawled, lazily rolling on the side.
"I never said I was. Let me get up."
"It's more comfortable here..."
"I'll kiss you standing up or not at all. And not backed up against a wall or furniture of some sort either."
Heero was taking a gamble. Because he knew that having Heero kissing him wasn't the only thing the demon had gotten out of the training session. There only was to remember the gleam in his eyes as they fought... and the way his hands trailed down the boy's skin when he was correcting his position.
Deathscythe got up, lazily, stretching like a cat, and grinned down at him.
"I suppose I have to keep my hands to myself, too?"
"Yes," Heero growled back. Frankly, he hadn't even dared to impose that one.
"I want some tongue in that kiss, then. And I will tell you when I have enough."
"No."
"Or I can kiss you now however I wish, and touch you, and fondle you, and that stone table over there will not be very comfortable for your first time but I think your injuries will handle it. And if not, then I'll just have to nurse you back to health again."
Heero tensed and his hand searched for the sword, but he had lost it long before. Deathscythe didn't seem to be amused by his attempts at negotiation anymore.
"Ok for ...the tongue..." he admitted grudgingly, "but if I let you decide of the time, you'll get two hours of kissing for one hour of training. No way."
"Naah. If we do that for two hours, we'll miss a meal," the demon grinned at him. "One hour?"
"Go fuck yourself with your tail."
"I didn't know you were so kinky, virgin boy. A half hour?"
His eyes were twinkling merrily. The damn demon was laughing at him again. Heero hated that.
"One minute."
"Twenty minutes."
"Two minutes. No more."
"Ten minutes?"
"I'll bite your tongue off."
"Five minutes is not enough..."
"Five minutes is the last offer I'm disposed to make. Deal with it."
Deathscythe burst out laughing.
"Agreed for this time, boy, but only because you're cute when you bargain."
Walking to the stone table, he signaled for Heero to follow. The boy eyed him warily.
"Our accord said not against something, if I recall..."
"I just want to be close to that," the demon answered, showing him a hourglass in a hollow of the wall. The glass was marked with lines every ten minutes or so.
The demon leaned against the table, half-sitting on it, and smiled invitingly, his hand on the hourglass. Heero bit his lips, suddenly unsure. He managed not to look back to the only door out of there, but only because he knew that the demon would reach him before he reached it. He didn't know his way in the maze of corridors anyway.
"Come here, blue-eyes."
Taking a deep breath, Heero stepped forward, scowling by habit, trying to act more sure of himself than he felt. The demon would take advantage of any weakness he found.
One of the demon's hands was resting on his thigh, his knees casually spread, not too wide, but just enough so that Heero could get close. Heero glanced at this hand, his eyebrow arching coldly, and grabbed the demon's wrist over the leather glove, pushing it back to rest on the table without qualms.
"Your hands stay there," he growled, leaning forward.
Smirking, the demon turned the hourglass over and leaned forward to meet him halfway.
Heero hesitated imperceptibly just before contact, but he steeled himself and pressed his lips to the demon's. He didn't really know what to do, and just brushed lips with him for a few seconds, trying to decide what would satisfy his captor enough that he wouldn't complain and force him to give more, without him giving too much.
Then he felt the smirk twisting just so the corner of the demon's mouth and lifted his eyelids, which had dropped halfway without him being aware of it somewhere in the process to look at his face. The bastard was looking unbearably smug.
He bit down.
The demon started and gave a short, surprised little moan, that changed into a throaty laugh. Growling, Heero bit again, nibbling at the demon's lips. He had to remind himself not to break the skin, or Deathscythe would not be amused. He tugged at the demon's lower lip, delighting in the surprise that was clouding the demon's eyes now. That bastard was not laughing anymore. In fact, he was closing his eyes, and...
It was Heero's turn to jump when he felt Deathscythe's tongue flicker over a sore place on his lip, brushing against Heero's own lips in the process.
The demon's lips were opening under his own, yielding, responding to his aggressiveness, and when his own tongue teased at the demon's lips, it was not because he had been reminded of their accord; it was just a natural response.
'What the hell am I doing?' he thought distantly, but the fact was, he had promised tongue, and tongue there would be, and in the end he just kept on licking at the demon's mouth in short, moist flickers.
Deathscythe laughed breathlessly and opened his mouth a little wider, his lips responding, pressing against Heero's, his tongue chasing the boy's. But Heero avoided contact at first, content in annoying the man and keeping his advantage.
Then Deathscythe's tongue slid between Heero's lips and caressed his palate, and Heero barely refrained from jumping back. He did lean back, but Deathscythe followed the move, and Heero had to put his hands on the demon's shoulders and push him back.
"Tim's not up yet," the demon smirked. He looked like he thought he had known all along that Heero wasn't able to handle it. Heero didn't think any longer, and with a growl, closed his hands on the demon's collar, dragged him forward again, and sealed their lips together, deeply diving into the demon's mouth. He wanted tongue, he would get some, the boy thought, incensed.
The demon was purring, a little 'mmm' of appreciation rising from his throat, his body relaxed under Heero's grip. He began to respond to Heero's ministrations. Heero got angry, and put more aggression in his kiss, but the demon didn't seem to care, just responded, matching his actions, and finally Heero realized that the longhaired one was discretely guiding him, teaching him how to properly kiss. He supposed he must be dreadfully inexperienced, and for someone as old as Deathscythe was...
Somehow he felt ashamed that he was not very good at kissing. That long-haired moron must be laughing at him in his head again...
His moves got slower, less self-assured for a second, and somehow he managed to prick himself on the demon's fang, which until now he had forgotten existed. Deathscythe moaned and suckled on Heero's tongue, purring harder. The taste of blood seemed to be a big turn-on for him, but Heero didn't feel ill at ease for long. The skill the demon was displaying in kissing him was too overwhelming to think about that disturbing fact.
He let the demon take the lead for a short while, learning his moves, slowly beginning to follow his example. It was... not as bad as he had feared, somehow.
With a start, he suddenly remembered to check the hourglass...
And wrenched himself away, even though the demon wasn't hindering him. They were closer to the ten minutes limit than to the five one, and he hadn't even noticed. His cheeks afire, he stalked a few feet away, turning his back on the demon to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand, furious, although he wasn't sure at whom.
There was silence, behind him, but he would not turn back to see which face the demon was making. He didn't want to see him grinning like a fool in satisfaction, or smirking, amused by his display... Heero could already hear them, the snide comments on the eagerness with which he had kissed him, particularly interesting given the way the short-haired human had protested before. 'You liked it, did you? Slut.'
He closed his fists hard, felt his nails digging into his palms. His hands were shaking.
Silence behind, still. He would not turn to look at Him, whom he could feel at his back like he could feel the rays of the sun, irradiating an overwhelming presence.
There was the shuffles of feet as the demon straightened up, then a few steps. The presence was now at his left shoulder. He kept on staring right ahead, his jaws clenched so hard he wasn't sure he could get them unclenched ever again.
"If you have rested enough, we can go back to training. Or you can return to your room, your choice."
The voice was smooth, emotionless. No hint of smile in that tone, no mockery. It was so rare in the demon's voice that he didn't recognize it right away.
There were moments when the demon was a total ass, obnoxious or even downright cruel. And there were moments where he showed a rare insight and consideration. And Heero had no clues what triggered it.
He never had clues either when it was real or when it only was a ploy to get him off balance and trick him.
He debated for a short while whether to go back to his room or continue training. He needed to train, and he wasn't sure that Deathscythe would continue another day. The demon was not at his beck and call, and maybe that idea about training him was just a passing folly, or something like that.
But if he trained him another hour, Heero would have to give him another kiss.
He was not sure he could. He was so confused already... and ashamed. He had been so into the kiss that he had managed to forget the time! He had even enjoyed it! It was supposed to be a chore... enduring the disgusting demon's attentions... Had Heero forgotten that the creature only wanted to bed him, just to be able to say that he had stolen his virginity? That he only wanted to rape him?
He had enjoyed the attentions of his future rapist.
"I want to go back to the room, please," he managed to say, feeling sick to his stomach. His head was spinning, the edges of his vision turning dark.
'I'm not going to faint like some stupid maiden,' he thought fiercely, closing his hand hard on the metal buckle of his belt. The pain woke him up.
He followed when his captor turned away, signaling for him to follow, so lost in thoughts that when Deathscythe stopped in front of the room's door, he nearly bumped into him.
He entered, and stopped a few feet away from the bed, staring at it without really seeing it.
"Undress yourself."
Heero jumped and whirled around, his eyes wide. 'Oh hell. Oh no. He's... is he... turned on by the kiss? And I said I wanted to go back to the room... oh, no, no, no... did he take it as an... Occasion? ... invitation?'
"I can't chain you back over the pants, and you would not be very comfortable sleeping in that gear. And there is no way I'll leave you alone and free to roam around, you know that. So drop the pants already," he added with a touch of annoyance.
He wasn't leering or checking him out, didn't seem to be thinking dirty thoughts about Heero, and the boy let himself breathe. Turning his back on the demon, he undid the laces and let the pants drop. He kept the leather vest on, though, covering himself down to middle thighs while he reached for the white and flimsy pair of pants he had been wearing before.
"Ok," he said finally, glancing back at the demon. He walked to where the end of the chain was coiled on the ground and waited, his heart beating hard. Deathscythe had been watching him, but not leeringly like the other times... seriously, pensively... and he didn't know what to make of it. Coupled with his confusion about the kiss...
The demon went toward him, and in his steps something reminded Heero of a great cat stalking. He had to fight not to step back and try to run.
"Sit on the bed," the demon told him, strangely impersonal. Heero obeyed in silence, his brain throwing at him the memory of those eyes so close to his own, that mouth plastered against his.
'He has bewitched me,' the short-haired boy thought, far away, but his mind was in too much turmoil to really grasp the implications of that idea.
The demon knelt and clasped the chain back on, and Heero saw the seam and the hinge disappear. It was freaky. A little corner of his mind told him that he would have to test those points at a later date in case it was just a spell of illusion. Most of him was still staring blankly at his ankle.
"Now rest," the demon told him, pushing him back on the bed lightly. "I'll come back in an hour or so for the meal."
And on that sentence, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Heero fell back on the bed, threw his arm across his eyes, and wished he could sleep, if only to stop feeling so dirty.
I dunno... I tried to make heero strong and not a weepy, scared uke... but he's still very young compared to deathscythe and in an unfamiliar situation. and we see things from his POV most of the time.... hmm. I don't know how much is too much... u_u
Now I'm gonna try to work on The Evilness. I need my dose of tentacle sex.
I'm mostly happy with that one bit though, even if it will need some rewording and a lot of betareading.
Title of the fic is Virgin Sacrifice and the plot is as cliche as you can imagine :P
I do have to rewrite the beginning of the fic, though. It's going to be a 2x1, true, but still, I hate weepy-uke!heero, even when he has a good reason.
Very Basic Summary: Heero is given to the demon Deathscythe to appease him. He Doesn't Like It.
In this chapter, Duo, being bored and wanting Heero to be in top form for when he does end up ravishing him (because he's taking his sweet time) decides to give him basic sword training. (he also likes a lot to watch Heero sweating in a white shirt, and touching him all over to correct his position ain't that bad either) But he demands a kiss in exchange for his lesson. (if you're wondering why heero accepts it's because it's better than staying chained to the bed all day ^^; )
Suddenly, the demon caught his foot with a hand and whirled around, so fast that Heero couldn't follow the move. The world blurred, and then, there was a collision with a hard surface. When his head stopped spinning, he was laying on the ground, the Nightchild sprawled all over him.
"What the hell..." 'is this supposed to teach me,' he didn't have the time to say.
"The hour is up, little boy," the demon breathed, his face not an inch away from his own. "Pay up."
Heero's eyes met those of the demon, those gleaming rings of unnatural purple, and he felt faint.
He was totally trapped under that hard body, and the demon was breathing hard too, his warm breath caressing Heero's face and his torso pressing against his own. The longhaired being's legs were trapping his own, preventing him from moving, their groins pressed together. To prevent himself from thrashing like he knew the demon liked, he had to think that it could have been worse, that He could have forced his way between Heero's thighs.
"It was supposed to be a kiss, not a make-out session. Get off me," he commanded in a harsh voice, hiding his sudden trouble and apprehension.
He hadn't let himself think too hard about the price he had to pay. And now that he had to... Gods. He had to kiss the demon. Heero wanted to shiver, but he managed not to.
He pushed against Deathscythe's shoulder, glaring.
"You're not fun," the demon drawled, lazily rolling on the side.
"I never said I was. Let me get up."
"It's more comfortable here..."
"I'll kiss you standing up or not at all. And not backed up against a wall or furniture of some sort either."
Heero was taking a gamble. Because he knew that having Heero kissing him wasn't the only thing the demon had gotten out of the training session. There only was to remember the gleam in his eyes as they fought... and the way his hands trailed down the boy's skin when he was correcting his position.
Deathscythe got up, lazily, stretching like a cat, and grinned down at him.
"I suppose I have to keep my hands to myself, too?"
"Yes," Heero growled back. Frankly, he hadn't even dared to impose that one.
"I want some tongue in that kiss, then. And I will tell you when I have enough."
"No."
"Or I can kiss you now however I wish, and touch you, and fondle you, and that stone table over there will not be very comfortable for your first time but I think your injuries will handle it. And if not, then I'll just have to nurse you back to health again."
Heero tensed and his hand searched for the sword, but he had lost it long before. Deathscythe didn't seem to be amused by his attempts at negotiation anymore.
"Ok for ...the tongue..." he admitted grudgingly, "but if I let you decide of the time, you'll get two hours of kissing for one hour of training. No way."
"Naah. If we do that for two hours, we'll miss a meal," the demon grinned at him. "One hour?"
"Go fuck yourself with your tail."
"I didn't know you were so kinky, virgin boy. A half hour?"
His eyes were twinkling merrily. The damn demon was laughing at him again. Heero hated that.
"One minute."
"Twenty minutes."
"Two minutes. No more."
"Ten minutes?"
"I'll bite your tongue off."
"Five minutes is not enough..."
"Five minutes is the last offer I'm disposed to make. Deal with it."
Deathscythe burst out laughing.
"Agreed for this time, boy, but only because you're cute when you bargain."
Walking to the stone table, he signaled for Heero to follow. The boy eyed him warily.
"Our accord said not against something, if I recall..."
"I just want to be close to that," the demon answered, showing him a hourglass in a hollow of the wall. The glass was marked with lines every ten minutes or so.
The demon leaned against the table, half-sitting on it, and smiled invitingly, his hand on the hourglass. Heero bit his lips, suddenly unsure. He managed not to look back to the only door out of there, but only because he knew that the demon would reach him before he reached it. He didn't know his way in the maze of corridors anyway.
"Come here, blue-eyes."
Taking a deep breath, Heero stepped forward, scowling by habit, trying to act more sure of himself than he felt. The demon would take advantage of any weakness he found.
One of the demon's hands was resting on his thigh, his knees casually spread, not too wide, but just enough so that Heero could get close. Heero glanced at this hand, his eyebrow arching coldly, and grabbed the demon's wrist over the leather glove, pushing it back to rest on the table without qualms.
"Your hands stay there," he growled, leaning forward.
Smirking, the demon turned the hourglass over and leaned forward to meet him halfway.
Heero hesitated imperceptibly just before contact, but he steeled himself and pressed his lips to the demon's. He didn't really know what to do, and just brushed lips with him for a few seconds, trying to decide what would satisfy his captor enough that he wouldn't complain and force him to give more, without him giving too much.
Then he felt the smirk twisting just so the corner of the demon's mouth and lifted his eyelids, which had dropped halfway without him being aware of it somewhere in the process to look at his face. The bastard was looking unbearably smug.
He bit down.
The demon started and gave a short, surprised little moan, that changed into a throaty laugh. Growling, Heero bit again, nibbling at the demon's lips. He had to remind himself not to break the skin, or Deathscythe would not be amused. He tugged at the demon's lower lip, delighting in the surprise that was clouding the demon's eyes now. That bastard was not laughing anymore. In fact, he was closing his eyes, and...
It was Heero's turn to jump when he felt Deathscythe's tongue flicker over a sore place on his lip, brushing against Heero's own lips in the process.
The demon's lips were opening under his own, yielding, responding to his aggressiveness, and when his own tongue teased at the demon's lips, it was not because he had been reminded of their accord; it was just a natural response.
'What the hell am I doing?' he thought distantly, but the fact was, he had promised tongue, and tongue there would be, and in the end he just kept on licking at the demon's mouth in short, moist flickers.
Deathscythe laughed breathlessly and opened his mouth a little wider, his lips responding, pressing against Heero's, his tongue chasing the boy's. But Heero avoided contact at first, content in annoying the man and keeping his advantage.
Then Deathscythe's tongue slid between Heero's lips and caressed his palate, and Heero barely refrained from jumping back. He did lean back, but Deathscythe followed the move, and Heero had to put his hands on the demon's shoulders and push him back.
"Tim's not up yet," the demon smirked. He looked like he thought he had known all along that Heero wasn't able to handle it. Heero didn't think any longer, and with a growl, closed his hands on the demon's collar, dragged him forward again, and sealed their lips together, deeply diving into the demon's mouth. He wanted tongue, he would get some, the boy thought, incensed.
The demon was purring, a little 'mmm' of appreciation rising from his throat, his body relaxed under Heero's grip. He began to respond to Heero's ministrations. Heero got angry, and put more aggression in his kiss, but the demon didn't seem to care, just responded, matching his actions, and finally Heero realized that the longhaired one was discretely guiding him, teaching him how to properly kiss. He supposed he must be dreadfully inexperienced, and for someone as old as Deathscythe was...
Somehow he felt ashamed that he was not very good at kissing. That long-haired moron must be laughing at him in his head again...
His moves got slower, less self-assured for a second, and somehow he managed to prick himself on the demon's fang, which until now he had forgotten existed. Deathscythe moaned and suckled on Heero's tongue, purring harder. The taste of blood seemed to be a big turn-on for him, but Heero didn't feel ill at ease for long. The skill the demon was displaying in kissing him was too overwhelming to think about that disturbing fact.
He let the demon take the lead for a short while, learning his moves, slowly beginning to follow his example. It was... not as bad as he had feared, somehow.
With a start, he suddenly remembered to check the hourglass...
And wrenched himself away, even though the demon wasn't hindering him. They were closer to the ten minutes limit than to the five one, and he hadn't even noticed. His cheeks afire, he stalked a few feet away, turning his back on the demon to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand, furious, although he wasn't sure at whom.
There was silence, behind him, but he would not turn back to see which face the demon was making. He didn't want to see him grinning like a fool in satisfaction, or smirking, amused by his display... Heero could already hear them, the snide comments on the eagerness with which he had kissed him, particularly interesting given the way the short-haired human had protested before. 'You liked it, did you? Slut.'
He closed his fists hard, felt his nails digging into his palms. His hands were shaking.
Silence behind, still. He would not turn to look at Him, whom he could feel at his back like he could feel the rays of the sun, irradiating an overwhelming presence.
There was the shuffles of feet as the demon straightened up, then a few steps. The presence was now at his left shoulder. He kept on staring right ahead, his jaws clenched so hard he wasn't sure he could get them unclenched ever again.
"If you have rested enough, we can go back to training. Or you can return to your room, your choice."
The voice was smooth, emotionless. No hint of smile in that tone, no mockery. It was so rare in the demon's voice that he didn't recognize it right away.
There were moments when the demon was a total ass, obnoxious or even downright cruel. And there were moments where he showed a rare insight and consideration. And Heero had no clues what triggered it.
He never had clues either when it was real or when it only was a ploy to get him off balance and trick him.
He debated for a short while whether to go back to his room or continue training. He needed to train, and he wasn't sure that Deathscythe would continue another day. The demon was not at his beck and call, and maybe that idea about training him was just a passing folly, or something like that.
But if he trained him another hour, Heero would have to give him another kiss.
He was not sure he could. He was so confused already... and ashamed. He had been so into the kiss that he had managed to forget the time! He had even enjoyed it! It was supposed to be a chore... enduring the disgusting demon's attentions... Had Heero forgotten that the creature only wanted to bed him, just to be able to say that he had stolen his virginity? That he only wanted to rape him?
He had enjoyed the attentions of his future rapist.
"I want to go back to the room, please," he managed to say, feeling sick to his stomach. His head was spinning, the edges of his vision turning dark.
'I'm not going to faint like some stupid maiden,' he thought fiercely, closing his hand hard on the metal buckle of his belt. The pain woke him up.
He followed when his captor turned away, signaling for him to follow, so lost in thoughts that when Deathscythe stopped in front of the room's door, he nearly bumped into him.
He entered, and stopped a few feet away from the bed, staring at it without really seeing it.
"Undress yourself."
Heero jumped and whirled around, his eyes wide. 'Oh hell. Oh no. He's... is he... turned on by the kiss? And I said I wanted to go back to the room... oh, no, no, no... did he take it as an... Occasion? ... invitation?'
"I can't chain you back over the pants, and you would not be very comfortable sleeping in that gear. And there is no way I'll leave you alone and free to roam around, you know that. So drop the pants already," he added with a touch of annoyance.
He wasn't leering or checking him out, didn't seem to be thinking dirty thoughts about Heero, and the boy let himself breathe. Turning his back on the demon, he undid the laces and let the pants drop. He kept the leather vest on, though, covering himself down to middle thighs while he reached for the white and flimsy pair of pants he had been wearing before.
"Ok," he said finally, glancing back at the demon. He walked to where the end of the chain was coiled on the ground and waited, his heart beating hard. Deathscythe had been watching him, but not leeringly like the other times... seriously, pensively... and he didn't know what to make of it. Coupled with his confusion about the kiss...
The demon went toward him, and in his steps something reminded Heero of a great cat stalking. He had to fight not to step back and try to run.
"Sit on the bed," the demon told him, strangely impersonal. Heero obeyed in silence, his brain throwing at him the memory of those eyes so close to his own, that mouth plastered against his.
'He has bewitched me,' the short-haired boy thought, far away, but his mind was in too much turmoil to really grasp the implications of that idea.
The demon knelt and clasped the chain back on, and Heero saw the seam and the hinge disappear. It was freaky. A little corner of his mind told him that he would have to test those points at a later date in case it was just a spell of illusion. Most of him was still staring blankly at his ankle.
"Now rest," the demon told him, pushing him back on the bed lightly. "I'll come back in an hour or so for the meal."
And on that sentence, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Heero fell back on the bed, threw his arm across his eyes, and wished he could sleep, if only to stop feeling so dirty.
I dunno... I tried to make heero strong and not a weepy, scared uke... but he's still very young compared to deathscythe and in an unfamiliar situation. and we see things from his POV most of the time.... hmm. I don't know how much is too much... u_u
Now I'm gonna try to work on The Evilness. I need my dose of tentacle sex.
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Now I'm gonna try to work on The Evilness.
*snuggles*
I need my dose of tentacle sex.
Don't we all? *cheers*
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*dances* thank you!! I'm never sure how far is too far, in that fic ^_^ it's annoying to have that much of an age and power difference. *pouts*
But still, I have to work a lot on the very beginning of the fic. Heero BAWLS! XP how could I dare writing him like that!!
.... ok he had a bad trauma. but still. U_U;
Of course, the fact that he liked the kiss is so very appealing. *grin*
Where would be the fun in the fic if he didn't somehow like it? ^_________^
I still need people to help me with the scenario, though... not that I don't have ideas already, but i like to bounce those ideas off people to hear the sounds they make ;P And I'm still not sure how exactly this will end. I don't want it to be a carbon copy of all those other captive heero fics ^__^
(of course i say that I'm only writing that fic because I want to see if I can write the Heero-Sacrifice to Duo-Demon idea in an original way, but the truth is that I just like to see Duo with bat wings and Heero tied up)
I need my dose of tentacle sex.
Don't we all? *cheers*
I sure do. *slobbers*
...damn fic isn't cooperating though. *kicks Ookami!Heero's furry butt*
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now I need to rewrite the beginning some... >_< that or write on the evilness. Whatcha think? ^_^
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But, I do like this rewrite. Your English has kept on improving from the time you first started writing, and it shows. Your old stuff was still readable, and still much better than most stuff written by NATIVE English speakers, but your later stuff, you could hardly guess English wasn't your first language. ^_^
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