I've been writing an essay in french for the past 2 hours, and am developing a growing hatred for this language. Anon requests Canada/France, with blood-play and Canada topping the hell out of France.
Warnings for dubcon/noncon (YMMV), sadism, unsafe BDSM (seriously, THEY ARE DOING IT WRONG--do your research and don’t fail like these guys), and heavy bloodplay. So basically it’s the feel-good fanfic of the year.
Wendigo [1/2]
anonymous
September 21 2011, 01:06:23 UTC
“Comfortable?”
France stretches his neck, groaning against every little pop and crackle in the bones. His whole body strains--against his bonds, up towards the heavy weight and hard, hot cock above him. He stretches, stretches--and his whole body lets go with a sigh, slumping against silk sheets that shift in the breeze. “Mmm,” he says. “I’m. I’m good, mon cher.A second passes, two--a strand of sand in an hourglass
( ... )
Wendigo [2/2]
anonymous
September 21 2011, 01:07:18 UTC
France’s body contorts. Dried blood cracks on his skin, pulling the hairs, as Canada pushes in with one swift, hard movement. Canada’s hands tremble on France’s hips as they freeze--France’s back arched, Canada’s pupils all dilated and dark and frightening. France feels the pain straight up his spinal cord, spreading into his brain--
France’s world blurs. He blacks out and floats on a nightmare, on the natives he once thought so quaint telling him tales of the night-walkers with their high laughter. Like bones, he thought, bones jangling on the wind, laughing and walking with death in every exhale, rigor mortis on their lips--
“Fuck,” Canada grunts out, thick and inhuman and made of bone. Fuck--
Canada, the shadow at the base of his bed, making nicks in Francis’s abs and ribs with the tip of his blade. Canada, who is no longer Canada but something with a long face, yellow teeth, high laughter that wanders the snow-capped forests and wakes campers from their sleep--France wants to scream when he comes--wants to scream himself
( ... )
I've been writing an essay in french for the past 2 hours, and am developing a growing hatred for this language. Anon requests Canada/France, with blood-play and Canada topping the hell out of France.
Warnings for dubcon/noncon (YMMV), sadism, unsafe BDSM (seriously, THEY ARE DOING IT WRONG--do your research and don’t fail like these guys), and heavy bloodplay. So basically it’s the feel-good fanfic of the year.
Music I listened to while writing this is “Close to Evil” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXealeFtqVY&feature=results_video&playnext=1&list=PL19A8EA934297F49C) by Mikko Tarmia.
Reply
France stretches his neck, groaning against every little pop and crackle in the bones. His whole body strains--against his bonds, up towards the heavy weight and hard, hot cock above him. He stretches, stretches--and his whole body lets go with a sigh, slumping against silk sheets that shift in the breeze. “Mmm,” he says. “I’m. I’m good, mon cher.A second passes, two--a strand of sand in an hourglass ( ... )
Reply
France’s world blurs. He blacks out and floats on a nightmare, on the natives he once thought so quaint telling him tales of the night-walkers with their high laughter. Like bones, he thought, bones jangling on the wind, laughing and walking with death in every exhale, rigor mortis on their lips--
“Fuck,” Canada grunts out, thick and inhuman and made of bone. Fuck--
Canada, the shadow at the base of his bed, making nicks in Francis’s abs and ribs with the tip of his blade. Canada, who is no longer Canada but something with a long face, yellow teeth, high laughter that wanders the snow-capped forests and wakes campers from their sleep--France wants to scream when he comes--wants to scream himself ( ... )
Reply
Reply
But yeah, seriously beautiful imagery, A!A.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment