For Tsueh: A random snippet
Title: Down, down, down.
Author: Rosella
Rating: R
Warnings: I suppose it could always be much worse. The porn is horribly written, but practice makes perfect.... right? Also, a bit of a spoiler, but there is death.
Prompt: Giotto / Spade: Rape
Word count: A fair length
*Author's note: The inspiration for Spade in this story was taken directly from Lin's Spade muse. As for the Giotto, I borrowed Epic's muse. ^.^ I thank them both for allowing me to complete this within the week I began it.
Disgusting- How his body responded naturally to something so foul. He wasn't like everyone, with their need to procreate and fill their insides with vile objects. He didn't find it the least bit interesting, or appealing, or anything other than a repulsive act the majority of the population drowned themselves in. Daemon could already feel the eggs being laid on a high percentage of his anatomy. Everywhere his breath caressed his skin with a false sense of intimacy, he knew there was something being planted there; Getting ready to destroy his perfectly sterile body. The beads of sweat that gathered upon Giotto's furrowed brow fell against his flushed skin, it was enough to burn through his flesh like acid burned through metal- actually, Spade was almost certain it was acid by the intensity of the cold burns the droplets of perspiration caused.
He doesn't even remember how he even allowed Giotto to get this far, get so inside of him with every penetrating thrust. Again and again, Giotto pounded further into him. Grunting softly from his own pleasure, an act that was clearly one sided. His jaw was clenched so tight it hurt, teeth threatening to crack under the pressure. Those azure irises that once glimmered with mischief and hidden power, were cold, distant and practically feral as they glared through angered slits at the panting man above him. Those golden strands swayed with each grind, his annoyingly warm hands gripped his waist tighter as he burrowed himself deeper. The whole thing was enough to make him sick, but he wasn't about to give Giotto the satisfaction of a reaction other than the current one: Pure Anger.
Minutes passed, and the rhythm picked up in pace; a sign that this gruesome act was coming to an end. His grunts became louder, his thrusts needy, and his hands desperate; as if all of this would spark the right response from the illusionist. He had no desire to release, he would not. He refused.... Yet when the round tip of Giotto's member dared to touch nerves that before this moment were clean and pure of other human germs, Daemon could not still his body from arching and rolling against the foul body that was destroying him with each passing second. A smirk, condescending in it's own right, lifted the corners of his lips, motivating him to angle this way and thrust that way. Faster and deeper he slammed into him, harder and carelessly he moved against him. Spade's breath hitched, lungs closing as every nerve in his body screamed out in pain. Blood and semen leaked down past his length, twitching every last drop inside. His own groin leaked treacherously. Again, the way his body could respond to something so...- He shuddered, but not from sexual act, no. His body was tainted, destroyed in so many ways.
He was glad when Giotto stood up, claiming to grab a shower before the meeting they had to attend within the hour. Spade said nothing, did nothing until that head of gold was out of sight. That's when his blunt nails began to scrape at his forearms, digging deep into his flesh to leave trails of fresh blood. Raw skin gathered under the bit of nail he had, but no matter where he tried to remove the layer of skin that he had infected; it was not enough. Everything was already festering and growing, spreading and contaminating the rest of his body. He sat up, and trembled when the fluids slowly crawled out of him; possibly to ruin him further. There had to be another way, an effective way to get clean! This kitchen held the right equipment, he soon came to realize as the knife cut through skin, muscle- knicking his bone, but he didn't stop. He would not stop. On and on Spade continued peeling his vile skin away, screaming at the intensity of his actions- Until, there was nothing left. He was finally clean, pure, safe from infections and diseases.
Giotto never understood what happened after he left Spade alone. Why he came back to the bloody scene straight out of cheesy horror film, left many confused. But somewhere deep within him, he knew exactly what Spade was trying to do.
Author: Rosella
Rating: R
Warnings: I suppose it could always be much worse. The porn is horribly written, but practice makes perfect.... right? Also, a bit of a spoiler, but there is death.
Prompt: Giotto / Spade: Rape
Word count: A fair length
*Author's note: The inspiration for Spade in this story was taken directly from Lin's Spade muse. As for the Giotto, I borrowed Epic's muse. ^.^ I thank them both for allowing me to complete this within the week I began it.
Disgusting- How his body responded naturally to something so foul. He wasn't like everyone, with their need to procreate and fill their insides with vile objects. He didn't find it the least bit interesting, or appealing, or anything other than a repulsive act the majority of the population drowned themselves in. Daemon could already feel the eggs being laid on a high percentage of his anatomy. Everywhere his breath caressed his skin with a false sense of intimacy, he knew there was something being planted there; Getting ready to destroy his perfectly sterile body. The beads of sweat that gathered upon Giotto's furrowed brow fell against his flushed skin, it was enough to burn through his flesh like acid burned through metal- actually, Spade was almost certain it was acid by the intensity of the cold burns the droplets of perspiration caused.
He doesn't even remember how he even allowed Giotto to get this far, get so inside of him with every penetrating thrust. Again and again, Giotto pounded further into him. Grunting softly from his own pleasure, an act that was clearly one sided. His jaw was clenched so tight it hurt, teeth threatening to crack under the pressure. Those azure irises that once glimmered with mischief and hidden power, were cold, distant and practically feral as they glared through angered slits at the panting man above him. Those golden strands swayed with each grind, his annoyingly warm hands gripped his waist tighter as he burrowed himself deeper. The whole thing was enough to make him sick, but he wasn't about to give Giotto the satisfaction of a reaction other than the current one: Pure Anger.
Minutes passed, and the rhythm picked up in pace; a sign that this gruesome act was coming to an end. His grunts became louder, his thrusts needy, and his hands desperate; as if all of this would spark the right response from the illusionist. He had no desire to release, he would not. He refused.... Yet when the round tip of Giotto's member dared to touch nerves that before this moment were clean and pure of other human germs, Daemon could not still his body from arching and rolling against the foul body that was destroying him with each passing second. A smirk, condescending in it's own right, lifted the corners of his lips, motivating him to angle this way and thrust that way. Faster and deeper he slammed into him, harder and carelessly he moved against him. Spade's breath hitched, lungs closing as every nerve in his body screamed out in pain. Blood and semen leaked down past his length, twitching every last drop inside. His own groin leaked treacherously. Again, the way his body could respond to something so...- He shuddered, but not from sexual act, no. His body was tainted, destroyed in so many ways.
He was glad when Giotto stood up, claiming to grab a shower before the meeting they had to attend within the hour. Spade said nothing, did nothing until that head of gold was out of sight. That's when his blunt nails began to scrape at his forearms, digging deep into his flesh to leave trails of fresh blood. Raw skin gathered under the bit of nail he had, but no matter where he tried to remove the layer of skin that he had infected; it was not enough. Everything was already festering and growing, spreading and contaminating the rest of his body. He sat up, and trembled when the fluids slowly crawled out of him; possibly to ruin him further. There had to be another way, an effective way to get clean! This kitchen held the right equipment, he soon came to realize as the knife cut through skin, muscle- knicking his bone, but he didn't stop. He would not stop. On and on Spade continued peeling his vile skin away, screaming at the intensity of his actions- Until, there was nothing left. He was finally clean, pure, safe from infections and diseases.
Giotto never understood what happened after he left Spade alone. Why he came back to the bloody scene straight out of cheesy horror film, left many confused. But somewhere deep within him, he knew exactly what Spade was trying to do.