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The sheen of his fur....
Jul. 6th, 2004 10:41 pmOh, I love this.
Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.
Snape??? eeeee...
So, I think I'm creative again. The question is, what gets the energy? The beginnings of a rather daunting Gargoyles AU, the male"/" Talon/Xanatos I've written about 3 paragraphs of but am so fond of. Or should I try and do more of the Sage/Storm X-fic that is like pulling teeth to write but oh so satisfying when done. (Storm and Sage. Two of the hardest chars to write ever, IMHO. Why did I bring this upon myself?! Oh right, because I love the pairing and don't see anyone else touching it, and am frustrated thereby.) Anyone gots prefs?
Here's a (rough!) snippet of the Talon bit...
*******
On the darker nights, the cloudy nights when he dared to stretch his wings simply for the joy of it, he would still sometimes feel those strong fingers caressing the muscles of his arms, his thighs. Even now. Even now, he could feel the ghost of careful fingers working through his thick glossy pelt, lips against his short muzzle tasting of saffron and burgundy, the tongue caressing his sharp white fangs. His own, rough like a cat’s, reaching to meet it, but carefully, because he did not want to hurt him.
Talon did not know which was worse, more humiliating: that these things came so readily to memory, or that they still filled him with that fierce longing, wounded his heart even while just the remembering made him turgid and hard.
And when he had cried, humiliated, horrified, afraid, those lips had tasted the tears upon his slick facial pelt, that warm breath had dried them. Strange that he was not embarassed to be seen crying in front of another man, though shedding tears even in front of his sisters would have been almost as bad as letting them see him...this way. Before this, he would never have imagined letting another man touch him, either. So many things had changed.
“You aren’t a monster,” David had whispered once in the dead of night, his hot breath tickling the long hairs inside Derek’s rounded panther ear and making it flick restlessly. His boss, his comfort, his savior, was a powerful man, his arms wrapped securely around the shiny, black-pelted chest, his thigh thrown across a leg that no longer held human shape. Trapping him, holding him so tightly, and though Derek was himself a strong man, and now a stronger monster, he still felt cherished, protected, dominated.
He never would have thought that he could love that.
“You are not a monster. You are magnificent.” His voice was low and smooth, seductive as he stole Derek’s protests with his hot mouth. As he kissed, demandingly, the tears from his pelt, as he moved his hands under the tender membranes of his wings, moved almost roughly between his legs to cup the velvet fullness there. Derek gasped, felt his jaw gape in pleasure, felt the electrc current quicken pulsing through his veins.
“God, David, you can’t still want me.”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t have. I can want anything.” his eyes are smoke and passion.
At the moment there seemed no good way, and no reason, to protest.
*ahem*
Jackel
Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.
Snape??? eeeee...
So, I think I'm creative again. The question is, what gets the energy? The beginnings of a rather daunting Gargoyles AU, the male"/" Talon/Xanatos I've written about 3 paragraphs of but am so fond of. Or should I try and do more of the Sage/Storm X-fic that is like pulling teeth to write but oh so satisfying when done. (Storm and Sage. Two of the hardest chars to write ever, IMHO. Why did I bring this upon myself?! Oh right, because I love the pairing and don't see anyone else touching it, and am frustrated thereby.) Anyone gots prefs?
Here's a (rough!) snippet of the Talon bit...
*******
On the darker nights, the cloudy nights when he dared to stretch his wings simply for the joy of it, he would still sometimes feel those strong fingers caressing the muscles of his arms, his thighs. Even now. Even now, he could feel the ghost of careful fingers working through his thick glossy pelt, lips against his short muzzle tasting of saffron and burgundy, the tongue caressing his sharp white fangs. His own, rough like a cat’s, reaching to meet it, but carefully, because he did not want to hurt him.
Talon did not know which was worse, more humiliating: that these things came so readily to memory, or that they still filled him with that fierce longing, wounded his heart even while just the remembering made him turgid and hard.
And when he had cried, humiliated, horrified, afraid, those lips had tasted the tears upon his slick facial pelt, that warm breath had dried them. Strange that he was not embarassed to be seen crying in front of another man, though shedding tears even in front of his sisters would have been almost as bad as letting them see him...this way. Before this, he would never have imagined letting another man touch him, either. So many things had changed.
“You aren’t a monster,” David had whispered once in the dead of night, his hot breath tickling the long hairs inside Derek’s rounded panther ear and making it flick restlessly. His boss, his comfort, his savior, was a powerful man, his arms wrapped securely around the shiny, black-pelted chest, his thigh thrown across a leg that no longer held human shape. Trapping him, holding him so tightly, and though Derek was himself a strong man, and now a stronger monster, he still felt cherished, protected, dominated.
He never would have thought that he could love that.
“You are not a monster. You are magnificent.” His voice was low and smooth, seductive as he stole Derek’s protests with his hot mouth. As he kissed, demandingly, the tears from his pelt, as he moved his hands under the tender membranes of his wings, moved almost roughly between his legs to cup the velvet fullness there. Derek gasped, felt his jaw gape in pleasure, felt the electrc current quicken pulsing through his veins.
“God, David, you can’t still want me.”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t have. I can want anything.” his eyes are smoke and passion.
At the moment there seemed no good way, and no reason, to protest.
*ahem*
Jackel
