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The Donor (title!fail)

  • Jul. 9th, 2009 at 12:18 AM
fail chicken

I'm pretty sure I just:

a) failed at life

b) lost the game

and

c) broke the internet

but I'm gonna pretend I didn't and post this anyway.

Vampire!Chekov/McCoy, even though there's no pr0n *sad!fais*. But it tickled my kink, so whatever.

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            The CMO of the U.S.S Enterprise walked the halls of the ship, in the wee hours of the morning, brooding. They had been in space for a full month and a half, and the crew was getting restless. As he paced further, he heard the sound of labored breathing, gasping for air. His medical training kicked in and he automatically searched out the source of the noise. He found it in an empty room, curled up against the wall.

            Ensign Pavel Chekov was sitting against the white wall, his knees hugged to his chest, his eyes hooded, and his mouth hanging slightly open. His head jerked up the moment Bones entered the doorway. He snapped his mouth shut.

            “Dr. McCoy” his said in a strained, oddly stuffed-up voice. Bones immediately moved towards him.

            “What’s wrong? It sounded like you were dying in here…………you look like you’re dying in here” the boy’s face was pale and drawn, his lips dry, and his eyes sunken. He ran a tongue over his dry lips.

            “I am fine, Doctor. Reelly, I am. Do not vorry about me. Am fine” he tried to assure the CMO, but it was obvious that he wasn’t fine. McCoy knelt beside him.

            “You’re a filthy liar, kid. Tell me what’s wrong. I don’t care whether you just got winded or something, or if you have a disease, I need to know. I can help” he laid a hand on the young Russian’s shoulder. The boy shook his head sadly.

            “No. You don’t vant to help. You vouldn’t, if you knew……….please, doctor, go. I vill be fine” he trembled. Leonard McCoy was starting to get really annoyed.

            “Just tell me, kid, for Chrissake-” his mouth snapped shut when the boy’s mouth opened, revealing his elongated canines.

            The term “vampire” was used to refer to a variety of things, often to refer to the people who suffered from the need to drink blood because of a rare disease they were born with. It was also used to refer to people who were, actually, technically vampires. It was also slang for someone who was a parasite, feeding off of others and giving nothing in return.

            But that was the first word that came to mind when Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy saw the Russian ensign’s impressive fangs. He was snapped out of his reverie when the boy moaned, doubling in on himself, trying to hide his rapidly elongating canines.

            One of the random facts about vampires, from the many things that Bones had read, sprung to his mind,

 

            Technical “vampires” have retractable canines, which help them break the skin and puncture arteries. These “fangs” come out when the “vampires” feed, but also in very stressful situations, or if they are extremely emotional. In a stressful situation, the elongation of the “fangs” is unintentional, and often uncontrollable. Another time that a “vampire’s” “fangs” may come out is when the “vampire” is extremely thirsty, or has been starved for some reason. The “fangs” extend as the body’s way of telling the “vampire” that it is in desperate need of nourishment.

 

            They had been in space for a month and a half. The kid seemed to genuinely be a good person, who cared about others. No one had reported to the sickbay with any bites.

            Bones swallowed. The kid was thirsty. He had been starving himself because he didn’t want to hurt anyone on the ship. The ensign’s blue eyes were glassy, and his entire body shook. His gaze locked onto McCoy’s.

            “Doctor” he moaned, drawing the word out. He panted a few times, while the doctor was frozen in place by his hypnotic stare, losing himself in the darkness of the boy’s rapidly dilating pupils, “Doctor, go…….I don’t vant……..to hurt you………” he whispered. McCoy managed to shake his head.

            “I can’t” he murmured, fighting the pull of the boy’s beautiful eyes, and failing, “I can’t go” the boy tore his eyes away and the doctor lost his balance and fell backwards. He blinked a few times, then glanced back at the kid, who was still shaking, “Kid” he said hoarsely, “If you need to feed, then go ahead and do it before you lose control and kill somebody” the boy whimpered and shook his head.

            “I can’t. I vill kill them if I feed. I can’t control it. I am sooooooo thirsty” he moaned, “I thought…….mebe…….if I stay back here……..mebe……..I starve and die……..and not hurt anyvone” he shook his head harder, “I hope nobody come. I don’t vant to kill. I don’t” the doctor approached him slowly, his hands up.

            “Kid, if you don’t feed soon, you’re going to lose it and kill half the ship. Let’s just make this a lot easier and you feed on me, ‘kay?” the boy shook his head frantically.

            “No! No! I kill you!” he pressed himself back against the wall, his fangs extended so far he couldn’t close his mouth. The doctor smiled weakly.

            “I trust you, kid. It’s okay. I’d rather you kill me than half the ship” he gathered up the shaking boy in his arms and pressed the curly head down to his neck, “Shh, shh, shh, just drink, kid, just drink. Don’t worry about me” the boy sobbed.

            “I’m so sorry” he moaned, then plunged his fangs into the side of McCoy’s neck. He heard the doctor’s gasp, but didn’t register it, the sweet, hot nectar on his lips was the only thing that existed at that moment. He drank and drank. It was several moments of pure bliss before he really felt the writhing body he was gripping. He pulled back with a gasp. They were on the floor, McCoy on his back, with Chekov straddling him. The doctor’s eyes were half closed, his breath coming in and out as low moans. Chekov could see the puncture on the side of the doctor’s neck, and taste his sweet blood. He smoothed back Bones’s hair.

            “Doctor” he whispered, stroking his thumb down the man’s jaw line, “Doctor” McCoy’s eyelids fluttered in response.

            “Mmm” he sounded oddly content, just laying there under Chekov, “That was………..interesting” he murmured, “You have to do that again sometime” he sounded as though he were half asleep. The boy patted his cheek.

            “Please. Doctor. Open your eyes. Talk to me. Please” the doctor opened his eyes and blinked a few times at the kid, “I hurt you? I upset you?” the boy asked, still stroking the man’s hair. Bones ‘mmm-ed’ again.

            “That was actually kinda nice” he said slowly, “It was like………..I was flying……and floating…….and being tickled…….and kissed………and blown………all at the same time” the boy just stroked his face.

            “You need to eat, doctor. You are pale. I drink too much” he looked very solemn, “I get you food, doctor. Then you sleep. You need sleep” the boy hopped up and sprinted down the hall, light-headed and giddy with the fresh, hot blood running through his veins. McCoy just lay on the floor, still feeling as though he were floating on a cloud of bliss. He vaguely wished that the boy would come back. He wanted to kiss the sense out of the boy in return for the most intense orgasm he’d ever had in his life. Not that he could ever fully repay the kid. He heard footsteps and felt himself being lifted up. That woke him up slightly. Lifted up? Carried? Who in the hell-?

            It was Chekov, infinitely strengthened by his feasting, who propped the doctor up on a bench. McCoy relaxed again. Pavel sat beside him and spooned food into Bones’s mouth, who ate obediently, once again docile enough to do pretty much anything that was asked of him. Chekov, of course, was aware of this. He had fed before. He knew, now that he was sure he hadn’t caused the CMO any harm, that his donor had to be taken care of for the next several hours.

             After the feasting, if the donor was alive and well, they lapsed into a state of contentedness, docility. They were virtually defenseless against anything that came their way. They were meek, happy, drowsy, and usually hungry, and could be made to do nearly anything in their weakened state.

            The Russian boy led the doctor back to his quarters. Along the way, the doctor’s head would drop, and Chekov would gently tip it back up.

            “Almost there” he said cheerfully. He sat the doctor down on the bed, checked his bite, then put him to bed. After a moment, Chekov gave into longing, and curled up against McCoy. He was asleep within moments.

 

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

            When Dr. McCoy awoke, he knew two things.

 

1)      He felt really great, even though his neck itched like hell.

 

2) There was something very soft and warm curled up against him.

     

      He opened his eyes and looked down at Chekov, who was nuzzling the doctor’s neck in his sleep. McCoy scratched a few times, then tried to remember what happened. Nothing came up. All he remembered was a sharp pain in his neck, and then the world turned into sheer ecstasy. He touched the inflamed mark on his neck again. It was a bite.

      Of course. How could he have forgotten? He’d let the kid feed on him. Everything was blurry after that. He felt Chekov stir, and looked back down at him. The boy opened his beautiful eyes, blinked blissfully a few times at the doctor, then closed his eyes again. After a short moment, the boy’s eyes popped back open and he yelped, flailing and nearly falling off the bed. McCoy caught him firmly by his small waist (it was a nice waist too……).

      “Hold up there, where do you think you’re going?” he asked gruffly, his eyes twinkling. The boy was just staring at him, mouthing words that the doctor couldn’t understand.

      “I sorry” the boy whispered, “I so sorry. Forgeef me” he dropped his head, and McCoy tipped it back up again.

      “There’s nothing to forgive. It was a gift” he tugged at a particularly nice curl, watching it boing back into place, “and you can’t let that happen next time” he said sternly, “When you start getting that hungry, you come to me, got that?” the boy nodded, hiding a smile as he remembered how docile the doctor had been, just a few hours before. Not that he was going to tell McCoy that. The doctor kissed him and he kissed back, hoping that he didn’t taste like blood.

This is proof I'm losing my mind

  • May. 4th, 2009 at 10:43 AM
dexter "shame-face"

Okay. THis contains some of my Heroes (TM) OCs, my characters, South Park (TM) people, the pink and blue unicorns from Charlie the Unicorn (r), the gummy bear from that annoying Gummy Bear song, and Krazy Frog (TM), and the people inside my head.

This is complete proof I have lost my mind. This is a chronicle of stuff I've written over the last month/month-and-a-half.


Me: Mole, stop calling God names, or I'll call out the guard dogs. MOLE: Sheet, I hate ze guard dogs. )

Steampunk

  • Dec. 9th, 2008 at 1:42 PM
dexter "shame-face"

I've gained a new "obsession".

Well, not really an obsession, yet.

Steampunk.

"Steampunk is a subgenre of fantasy and speculative fiction that came into prominence in the 1980s and early 1990s."
-Wikipedia en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steampunk


My brain has so many ideas about this. Is it too retarded that I discovered it on www.meez.com with their steampunk style under "themes"?

Let me get the ideas out.


Dystopia

Scientist rebels called "steamers" because almost everything they create runs on steam power (they're basically steampunkers)

Underground movement of steamers against the totaltarian government.


Characters:


Silva: PI. supposed to be loyal to the government but overlooks most steamer doings unless he deems it dangerous to the common people (i.e. bombs, weapons, etc, etc, etc...). Early thirties. Old fashioned.

Ysuso: shy steamer girl. is connected to the underground movement. they use her to deliver goods back and forth to different bases because she's so quiet and unobtrusive, nobody suspects anything of her.

Mechanoia: Ysuso's alter-ego. a brash, strong-willed superheroine. has no "powers" but is very smart and uses gadgets (steam-powered jet pack) and is a strong, skilled fighter in hand-to-hand combat.

Kylo(working name): kinda crazy steamer. lives in a clock tower. is the main scientist in the movement, is brilliant but "eccentric". Is the only person who knows that Ysuso is Mechanoia and designs most of her gadgets. Calls Ysuso "Soosy".

Shiano: Wild leader of the rebels, but is good in the leadership role, and knows when to cool it. Kinda likes Ysuso, a little.

Sorcha: A girl who works in a shoe shop that is underground in more ways than one. She's friends with Ysuso, and is wild after Shiano.

&*&*&*&

Silva saves a shy, young steamer girl. Her name is Ysuso. He sees the tattoo on her arm that means she’s part of the rebel movement, but lets her go anyway. After he deals with a criminal named Jenson, he is cornered in by a gang, taken by surprise, and they have the advantage. He is saved by a girl (who is strangely familiar), she is an expert in hand to hand combat and flies around using a steam powered jet pack. Silva recognizes her. She is the elusive “Mechanoia”, a super heroine who the GOVERNMENT has been after for a while, who is very closely connected to the movement. He thanks her, and she gives him some tips as to where some “rogue” rebels are hiding out, then she leaves.

 

Vague ideas:

 

Introduce Kylo, prolly by meeting Silva.

 

Silva finds out that Ysuso is Mechanoia.

 

Romance <3 (Silva likes Ysuso but thinks he’s too old for her)

 

An upper-class girl (Amorantha) is kidnapped.

&*&*&*&

 

“Stop right there, fellas. This young lady doesn’t owe you anything” Silva walked up calmly behind the young woman, who had fallen away from her tormentors, and was propping herself up with long skinny arms, her grey eyes wide with fear, her pale, pink lips slightly parted, her head tilted back, looking at Silva, the terror beginning to fade from her eyes. The thugs backed up, wary.

            “Watchoo gonna do? It’s, like, 5 to 1” the pudgy one leered. Silva shrugged indifferently.

            “Well, yes, but I have this” he pulled a small remote out of one of the pockets on his trench coat. It only had one button. The thugs began to back away, and the girl cowered. They all recognized that remote.

            “And if you’re not gone by the time I count to three, the five of you are going to spend the rest of your lives in a correctional facility. One, two…..” the thugs were gone in a heartbeat. Silva calmly put the remote back in his coat, looking down at the girl.

            “Are you all right?” he asked gently. She didn’t answer, staring at the pocket in which he had put the remote. He smiled.

            “Oh, that. Don’t worry” he lowered his voice, “It’s not even real” she smiled slightly, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

            “Thank you” she said in a soft voice, looking up at him. She was a steamer, by the looks of her. Grease smudged hands, tall, drab, lace-up boots that went all the way up to her knees, the trademark steamer apron, also smudged with grease and oil. Her hair, which was ruby red, was pulled back in a common steamer style, four ponytails on the back of her head, and of course, the little grease smudge on her cheek. She didn’t look any older than nineteen. He smiled at her.

            “So exactly what are you doing out this late? I’m not always going to be here to save you, little lady” she smiled back, nervously.

            “I was……um……take something back to…..a friend…..and I…..um…..” she looked flustered. He held up one hand.

            “I get it. It’s none of my business” he noticed the scrapes on her elbows, “Hey, those look bad” she immediately tensed up.

            “No, I’m fine, I just grazed it” she murmured. He shook his head, grabbing her by the arm, looking at the scrapes.

            “Those could get infected, and unless you’re a-” he stopped when her sleeve fell back, revealing a black tattoo in the shape of a gear on her shoulder.

&*&*&*&


Mehh, that's all I got down so far. its really epic, I don't know where to start. Any comments? Anybody know anything about steampunk? Know anybody who knows anything about steampunk?

Writer's Block: Comebacks

  • Jul. 15th, 2008 at 10:03 AM
not all there

Know any great comebacks?


View other answers

"You want fries with that?"


Best. Comeback. Evar.


((Courtesy of Bored.com's "Ways to Annoy People" list))

Writer's Block: The Bad Habit

  • Jul. 15th, 2008 at 9:35 AM
not all there

Talk about a habit that you just cannot break.


View other answers

 My habit is definitely picking my nails. PICKING. Not biting. PICKING. I use my other pathetic, stubby fingernails to pick at my nails. I pick my toenails too, and I wish I could stop. My nails are so short, and ugly, and I wish I could have long nails like my other friends, so I could paint them and make them pretty. My nails are so short that fake nails won't even stay on because they don't have enough nail to stick to. Whenever I paint my nails, I end up picking the nailpolish off until it's all chipped and ugly. It makes me sad *n*

Poem

  • Nov. 1st, 2007 at 2:43 PM
not all there
I feeling kind of pensive right now and I wrote a poem so I decided to post it for the heck of it. 


This fragile start to fragile finish

The emptiness is endless

Between Hellfire’s door and Heaven’s gate

Here wander the friendless



Across the plains of emptiness

Here burns the setting sun

And still the friendless wander on

Until the day is done



Innocence is tainted black

This broken world is bleeding

Under this skin are unhealed scars

This broken world is needing



The blackened sky is grieving

For the empty bowers

Its tears fall down to earth

There’s a chance of showers



Eternal youth and plastic beauty

Deadly poisoned kisses

Pearl white smiles and lying lips

The score board counts the misses



This love isn’t real

Who repays the debt?

The friendless wander on and on

Until the sun is set

Oct. 13th, 2007

  • 12:59 PM
not all there
 Sooooo........what's your favorite color friends of mine?  ^g^
Poll #1070703 Favorite Color (so overdone, I know)
Open to: Friends, detailed results viewable to: Friends

What's your favorite color?

Red
0 (0.0%)

Blue
0 (0.0%)

Yellow
0 (0.0%)

Orange
0 (0.0%)

Pink
0 (0.0%)

Green
0 (0.0%)

Purple
1 (50.0%)

White
0 (0.0%)

Black
1 (50.0%)

Other
0 (0.0%)

Tags:

Nightmares 1\?

  • Sep. 28th, 2007 at 1:53 PM
not all there

Title: Nightmares 1\?
Author: Sunnivaixchel
Rating: PG-13-Light R later
Disclaimers: Last time I checked, minors don't own anything, so...............
Summery: Mohinder's late night research is interupted by Molly.........
Warnings: Mild gore, that's it for now though
A\N: AU from whatever episode it was right before Thompson's brain got blown out and Bennet pulled a gun on Molly. Total AU from there. Not for the faint of heart. >8D



"Hello? Is there someone there?" the finely clipped British accent echoed around the shadowy lab, only illuminated by one lone lamp, "Hello?" Mohinder called again. A small girl in a night gown stepped in, a teddy bear dangling from one hand. Mohinder's face softened.

"Hello Molly. What are you doing up?" he asked softly, smiling wearily at her. She regarded him with solemn eyes.

"Bad dreams" she whispered vulnerably. Mohinder's heart began to bleed slightly.

"About the boogeyman?" he asked, she nodded. He beckoned her over. She made her way through the maze of tables to get to him. She crawled up in his lap, snuggling up against him. He smiled at her, touching her hair. She looked at the papers on the table.

"What are you doing?" she asked. He glanced down at her, taking her small pale hand in his larger dark one.

"I'm updating this list. It helps me find people who are special, like you" she smiled sleepily.

"I still can't find people yet" she said sadly. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair.

"You'll be able to soon. The antibody is still working. But your getting better aren't you" she nodded again, pecking his cheek, then glanced up at him.

"There's something I want you to see" she whispered. He smiled at her and leaned down, so they were nose to nose.

"Hmm, what is it?" he asked, his eyes sparkling teasingly. She tugged on his shirt and smiled mysteriously.

"You'll see" she whispered, getting up and tugging him by the hand. He smiled sleepily and yawned, getting up and following her. She giggled, opening up the door that separated her room from the lab. She opened up the curtain. She pointed farther in and he took a step forward and glanced around. She lingered behind him. For the first time he noticed a dark liquid pooling on the floor. It seemed to be coming from behind her bed. He didn't notice the subtle sound from behind him as he made his way to the other side of her small pink bed. At first he didn't register what he saw, then felt his head spin and the bile rising in his throat. He turned but all of a sudden he couldn't breathe. He felt his airway constrict. Then snap. Everything was distorted in a flash of red. His body crumpled to the floor, stained by the blood from Molly Walker's mutilated body His last memories were familiar brown eyes and someone stroking his cheek with their thumb.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Poor Mohinder. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to trust the boogeyman" a memorable voice purred into his ear before his world went dark.

[IMG]http://i181.photobucket.com/albums/x132/SunnivaIxchel/nightmaresch1inkbluesmuv3.jpg[/IMG]

THE LITTLE BLACK BOX

  • Sep. 13th, 2007 at 4:19 PM
not all there
Title: The Little Black Box
Author: SunnivaIxchel
Rating: R
Warnings: Underage, pedophilia, hypnosis
Pairing: Bennet\Zach
Word Count: 1184
Summery: While waiting for Claire and her mom to get back from cheerleading practice Zach notices a small black metal box on the counter and pushes the button on the side........................
A\N: My first non Mylar or Plaude slash to be posted up here. Be nice.



"What’s that?" Zach asked, pointing at a small metal black box on the counter, just big enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Noah Bennet glanced up at him, then back down at the zucchini he was cutting.

"That? It’s a little souvenir I got while on my trip to Boston" he said, not looking back up, "It’s a little laser light show in a box, it shines out colors kinda like a disco ball does. I thought it might be something aesthetically pleasing to put in the living room. And a nice conversation piece" he explained. Zach nodded, glancing at the door.

"When did you say Claire would be back?" he asked. If Noah could tell how uncomfortable Zach was, he didn’t show it.

"Her and her mother should be back within thirty minutes. Sorry about the delay the night we have you for dinner" he said. Zach shrugged.

"It’s okay. How does this thing work anyway?" he asked, his attention back on the black box. Noah didn’t look up.

"There’s a button on the side. It makes the top open up" he told him. Zach pushed the button and the top slid open. Noah turned his back to his daughter’s friend as the light turned on, emptying the zucchini into the salad bowl.

"Wow, this thing is pretty cool...................." Zach’s voice trailed off as he watched the light change color. There was silence for a moment, the Noah spoke without turning around.

"Can I ask a favor of you Zachary?" he asked. There was no reply. Noah went on.

"Would you take that box into the master bedroom and set it on the bedside table?" his voice was slow and even. He could hear Zach getting up, picking up the box, and slowly walking up the stairs. Noah allowed himself a small smile. Perfect. He walked into the other room where Claire, Sandra, and Lyle were sitting on the sofa, blankly staring down at their hands. He knelt in front of them, caressing each of them.

"Stay here" he told them softly, smoothing down Claire’s golden tresses, then stroking his knuckles across Lyle’s cheek, "You remember having a fun dinner with Zachary and going to bed after he left. Now sleep" he whispered. Their eyes closed and their heads dropped. He tipped his wife’s chin up, kissing her.

"I love all of you" he whispered, "Always know that" he gently pulled Lyle off the couch, tugging him towards the love seat and laying him down on it.

"I love you Lyle" he whispered. He took Claire by the hands and lay her on the other couch. He kissed her forehead.

"I love you Claire-bear" he murmured in her ear. He then gently lay his wife down on the couch, tenderly stroking her hair.

"I love you Sandy" he whispered, kissing her lips. He looked around at his family, all in a hypnosis induced sleep. He glanced over at Mr. Muggles who was curled up and sleeping contentedly on his giant, plush, silk bed. He walked upstairs, straightening his tie as he walked in the master bedroom. Zach was kneeling by the bedside table, his eyes transfixed on the changing lights. His face was calm and serene.

"Zachary" he said clearly, "I want you to stand up". Zach did, still staring down at the black box. Noah’s eyes gleamed.

"Now turn around" he ordered. Zach did, his eyes staring blankly in front of him. Noah walked up to the mesmerized boy, circling him.

"Now take off your shirt for me Zachary, would you" he said. Zach mindlessly obeyed, dropping his large black t-shirt on the floor. Noah eyed Zach’s slim, lean muscles.

"Now your undershirt" he instructed. Zach’s grey undershirt joined his t-shirt on the floor. Noah drank Zach in with his eyes.

"Now sit on the bed" Zach obeyed. Noah knelt down beside him, carefully taking off Zach’s shoes and socks. He got up, pulling Zach to his feet.

"Take off my tie" he said. Zach’s unskilled finger’s fumbled with the tie, but manage to get it off. Noah swallowed.

"And my glasses" he said quietly. Zach mindlessly reached up and took the horn rimmed glasses off his best friend’s father.

"Fold them and set them on the table" Noah said quickly, not wanting Zach to drop them. Zach obeyed. Noah smiled. It was more of a leering smirk than a smile, but Zach was too brainwashed to notice.

"Now my jacket" Zach walked behind him, pulling his jacket off. Noah turned back to face him.

"Unbutton my shirt and take it off of me" he said. Zach slowly reached up, undoing each button one by one. He slipped it off of Noah, dropping it to the floor. Noah swallowed, letting out a shuddering sigh.

"Now take off my undershirt" he said. Zach’s fingers on his bare skin was like a brand as the teenage boy obeyed him.

"Sit on the bed" Noah’s voice shook. The boy sat. Noah sat beside him, taking off his own shoes and socks. He got on the bed behind Zach, leaning down so he could whisper in the boy’s ear.

"Zachary, listen to the sound of my voice. You are falling deeply asleep. You can hear my voice as you fall deeper and deeper asleep. You have no will to wake up until I tell you to. The very air you breathe is filled with a sleep inducing substance that his pulling you deeper and deeper into the darkness of sleep" his fingers hesitantly touched Zach’s back, trailing down his skin. He bit his lip.

"When I touch your shoulder I am going to inject you with a powerful sedative that will send you spiraling deeper into sleep" he pressed Zach’s shoulder firmly.

"I am going to touch your back Zachary, and when I do you are going to be filled with extreme arousal" his finger’s trailed down Zach’s back. Zach shuddered under his hands.

"Every time I touch your skin you are going to feel twice as aroused as you did before" he caressed Zach’s shoulder. Zach whimpered. Noah lay him down on the bed, stroking his back. His finger’s explored the soft skin on his sides, then down his arms. He felt the soft wispy hair on the boy’s back as warm finger’s fondled and caressed. Zach was whimpering with need now. Noah turned him over, shivering at the sight of the large bulge in the boy’s jeans. He stroked down the high schooler’s chest with his knuckles, watching the bulge grow. The boy had begun trembling. Noah whispered gently into Zach’s ear.

"You cannot orgasm until I allow you to, your body may want to, but you can’t until I allow it" he sucked on Zach’s earlobe. Zach’s eyes were closed, his eyelids fluttering. Noah’s hands slowly migrated down Zach’s stomach, and slowly took the boy’s belt off. He pulled the boy’s Levi’s and boxers off slowly, swallowing at the beautiful sight before him. He glanced over at the black box on the bedside table. He was going to have to thank Thompson for that.

Son of the Shadows 2\?

  • Aug. 30th, 2007 at 1:36 PM
not all there

A/N: No invisble abuse\love in this chapter. Unfortunately........

-------------------------------------

"Joey, can you help me?" Susanna Deanna called to her son. Joey slouched in, looking the stereotypical surly sixteen year-old. His mother smiled at him, smoothing down his messy honey colored curls. He half heartedly pulled away from her caress, letting her do it.

"Can you stir that pot on the stove while I mix up the batter?" she asked. He nodded, stirring the icing that was going on the cake.

"Why do we have to cater to all of Jason’s yuppie friends?" he muttered, "It’s not like they’ve ever done anything for us". His mother gave him a reproving tap on the head.

"Because Jason’s friends are nice men who help Jason run the firm" she said, "And the firm is the reason we have so many nice things" she said. Joey glanced around at the sleek chrome kitchen.

"I thought it was fine when it was just the old apartment" he said quietly. Susanna looked up, sighing.

"Joey, we’ve been over this a million times. Why do you have to be so resentful? I love Jason, and he loves me. That’s why we got married" she said. He looked up at her.

"Sure, whatever" he stalked out. Susanna sighed. Her son had never liked her husband, and try as she might to convince herself otherwise, she knew that Jason didn’t like Joey very much either. Things had been approaching a boiling point ever since Joey had brought home his new girlfriend. Susanna loved her. She was sweet, and patient, but firm enough to keep Joey in line. But Jason had one problem with her. She was a meta-human. Jason hated meta-humans. Freaks, he called them, mutated weirdos. He and Joey had gotten into a near violent fight about it and Susanna had to keep them from killing each other. Jason had kicked the girl out and forbid Joey from having contact with her, causing Joey to tell Jason exactly what he thought of him. Susanna had no choice but to ground her sullen teenage son. She sighed again. She cared about Jason, and he was a good man. But he was extremely prejudice against meta-humans. And she wondered how he would react if he knew that his wife of five years was one.

Son of the Shadows 1 / ?

  • Aug. 28th, 2007 at 8:00 PM
not all there
Title: Son of the Shadows
Author: SunnivaIxchel
Pairing: Plaude, Claude\OC
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 672
Summary:  Peter and Claude step on eggshells around their feelings for each other and a woman from Claude's past appears
A/N: This one is mainly just to set some things up. I'm working on making the next part better, and I hope you enjoy.

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"Peter" Peter looked up from Better Homes And Gardens™ to find his niece standing in the doorway.

"What?" he asked, bending the magazine back and forth. Claire gave him her ‘I know a secret’ coy grin.

"You probably should put that away, or you’re in for a world of humiliation" she said. Peter blinked, putting the magazine down and sitting up on the futon.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked. Claire smiled behind her hand, shaking her head. Peter gave her a half annoyed half amused look. She giggled, unable to contain it.

"My dad thought that we should have another meta-human posted here" she said coyly. Peter knew she wasn’t telling him something.

"So?" he asked, getting up and making as to tickle her. She giggled, batting his hand away.

"And I, being the loyal and caring niece that I am, gave a little suggestion as to who it might be. And it took" she grinned. Peter blinked, mouthing "Whah?". Claire looked over her shoulder and there was crash from downstairs, followed by Noah swearing and a laugh that was very familiar to Peter. The empath felt his neck lighting up red as he realized what Claire had been talking about. Claire grinned.

"So, who’s the world’s greatest niece?" she asked. Peter broke out in a grin, pulling her into a bone breaking hug.

"You have no idea how much I love you right now" he whispered in her ear. She just smiled as they parted, winking. Peter immediately pushed her out of his room.

"Go away" he said through the door, "I have to get ready" Claire just laughed, jogging down the steps. She ran head on into Molly Walker who fell backwards down the stairs. She screamed, but never hit the ground. She appeared to be floating in midair until Claude faded into visibility. He let her down and she wrapped her arms around herself, visibly shaken. Claire ran down.

"Oh my gosh, Molly, are you okay?" she asked. Molly nodded, giving Claude her unbearably cute smile. His beard did little to hide his blush. Claire laughed at him, scooping Molly up.

"So where’s the poodle?" Claude asked, feigning indifference. Claire smiled, winking.

"He’s upstairs. Getting ready" she said. He glanced up the stairs.

"For what? The Queen’s Royal Ball?" he grunted. Claire smiled, shrugging.

"He just prides himself in looking good, wherever he goes" she said. Claude glanced back up the stairs.

"A common trait for girls his age I suppose" he said. From upstairs, there was the sound of Peter’s door opening and closing, and Peter came running down the stairs. He paused at the bottom of the stairs when his and Claude’s gazes met. He quickly looked away.

"So this is our new sentry?" he said, raising his eyebrows at Noah. The Company Man shrugged. Claude whacked Peter upside the head.

"Disappointed?" he asked. Peter rubbed the back of his head.

"Surprised" he said simply. Claude leaned against the wall.

"Bennet says you have a new power" he said, looking the empath up and down. Peter was wearing a black t-shirt with a snide comment on it and a pair of surprisingly tight fitting girl jeans. Peter smiled, nodding. He turned and grinned at Claire. Her eyes widened.

"Don’t you dare Peter Petrelli. Think of all I’ve done for you" she warned. He just grinned.

"Sit" he said, his voice inflecting. She automatically sat down on the chair behind her.

"Stand up" she was immediately back on her feet. She glared at Peter, no longer in control of her bodily functions.

"Turn around" she had to obey. This time Noah whacked him over the head with the newspaper.

"Stop messing with my little girl" he said sternly. Peter consented, stopping. Claire got up and promptly bitchslapped him. He winced.

"What? I didn’t make you do embarrassing things this time" he said. Claude raised his eyebrows.

"This time?" he asked. Peter grinned sheepishly. He was rewarded by everyone in the room whacking him on the head.

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Comments are love!!!

Pretty Toy

  • Jul. 16th, 2007 at 10:03 AM
not all there


Title: Master's Pretty Toy
Author: SunnivaIxchel
Pairing: Mylar
Rating: R
Word Count:
Summary: Peter finds a missing Mohinder in an abandom warehouse. He makes some startling discoveries as to what happened to Mohinder while he was gone.
A/N: Very very creepy. It got deleted off of 9th Wonders.


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 Peter quietly crept through the old abandoned warehouse. Molly had said that Sylar was there, so there he was, creeping around, walking with his feet a foot and a half off the ground. He turned on the super hearing he had gotten from Sylar. Someone was nearby. He silently crept forwards, invisibly peeking into one of the rooms. What he saw shocked him. He didn’t find Sylar. He found someone just as important. Inside the room on a metal bench against the wall sat Mohinder Suresh. Mohinder had gone missing 9 months ago. After endless searching they assumed that Sylar had killed him and disposed of his body. Mohinder sat stoically on the bench, his knees pulled up to his chest, his gaze locked onto the floor. Peter slipped in, staring in shock at Mohinder. He was alive. How could he be alive? Peter became visible, touching his feet to the ground.

“Mohinder” he said softly. Mohinder’s eyes went to him, then back to the floor in front of him. Peter stared in wonder at his supposedly dead friend.

 

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Here is my creepy fic. It got deleted of 9th Wonders.

 



“Mohinder, talk to me” he whispered happily, slightly concerned. Mohinder didn’t answer him, or even look at him. He just sat, unmoving. Peter reached out and took Mohinder’s arm. He felt Mohinder shiver at his touch, but that was the only reaction he got out of him. He gently probed Mohinder’s mind, only to find darkness. Nothingness. But he found something else too. He felt his brow crinkle in pity for his friend.

“Mohinder. You don’t have to do this anymore. You don’t have to be his….plaything. Come on. I can get you out of here” he whispered. Mohinder still didn’t react or look at him.

“What has he done to you?” he whispered, “C’mon Mohinder, I can get you out before he gets back” he whispered urgently, now afraid for the emotionless shell that was all that was left of his dear friend.

“Oh you can, can you?” a soft voice inquired. Peter spun around to find Sylar smirking at him. Sylar ignored Mohinder.

“I think you’ll find that Mohinder doesn’t want to leave with you” he said quietly, approaching the two of them. Peter backed up. When Sylar got to Mohinder he ran his finger down the dark cheek, watching Peter.

“He’s perfectly content here” the incarnation of evil smiled cruelly at Peter, petting Mohinder’s hair. Mohinder didn’t react at all to Sylar’s caresses. Peter’s lip curled up in disgust for Sylar.

“My God. What have you done to him you son of a mother-?” Peter started but Sylar cut him off.

“I haven’t done anything to him. Have I Mohinder?” he asked quietly, he glanced at Mohinder for the first time, “Have I?” he repeated. Mohinder gave a small shake of his head. Sylar smiled.

“There. You see. I haven’t done anything to him” he said dangerously. Peter’s hands lit up with fire and he charged at Sylar. But Sylar countered his attack with ice, swinging a well aimed punch at Peter, knocking the empathy against the metal wall. He stepped forward, TKing Peter to the wall, strangling him. Peter lashed out telekinetically, causing Sylar to fly backwards. But Sylar picked himself up and blasted Peter through the doorway. After several failed attempts at blowing Sylar up Peter fled. Sylar watched him leave. He then turned to Mohinder. He took Mohinder’s wrists and pulled him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him out of the warehouse.

“We need to leave before Petrelli comes back with the rest of them” he said quietly to Mohinder. Mohinder didn’t answer, only allowing himself to be led away.

“It doesn’t matter what he says. You know who you are, don’t you Mohinder?” he asked. Mohinder nodded, “Who are you?” Sylar breathed into his ear. And for the first time Mohinder spoke.

“Master’s pretty toy”

My First Post

  • Jun. 14th, 2007 at 9:55 PM
not all there
Hi! I'm like a teenager from the middle of No Where. And I love Heroes. As in REALLY love it. I am officially obsessed. I'm in a play with our local theatre. It's "The Haunting of Will Sheakspeare". It's awesome. I'm like, one of the Macbeth witches........ Greymalkin. I'm the sleepy witch who gets POd cuz the other witches want to run around and haunt at midnight and she's tired. XD. It's funny. And stupid. And there's this REALLY hot guy named Joey. Yeah. He's fine. And everybody thinks he is so hot. He's an idiot though. It's getting late and I'll post again later. 

TTFN