Short Cuts I
folder
+S to Z › Saint Seiya
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
4,944
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Saint Seiya
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
4,944
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Saint Seiya, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
# 9.
# 9. Deathmask x Saga. (Some angst, sexy innuendo & kink.)
Keywords : angst, monster, tongue.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the third time this month, and Deathmask was starting to get really sick of it. On the other hand, Saga didn’t look too pleased by the interruption either.
As for the guards, the apparition of the crazed Cancer saint had made them scramble faster than he ever thought possible, as if he was some sort of monster and the terror he inflicted upon them was enough to make them suddenly discover the seventh sense just to run away from him faster.
Their reactions around him were so very different than the ones they had around Saga, but it wasn’t a matter of power -- if anything, the Gemini saint was much more powerful than him, and DM knew it as well as the guards – no, it was because they knew Saga wouldn’t fight back. From the very first day one of the guards understood that, it had become the new sport among the low ranks of Sanctuary. Men who lacked the wisdom of gold saints, as well as the clemency or understanding necessary to grasp what exactly had happened during those 13 years.
The goddess might have brought all saints back to life and forgiven all their past errors and sins, but the guards of Sanctuary never forgot Saga’s face and what he had done in the past. Rather than blaming themselves for their choices or actions like many of the gold saints still did nowadays, they chose to blame Saga. And they never understood he wasn’t the same person he once was, now a mere shadow of guilt of the once proud gold saint he used to be.
So it all started. When the angst would become too unbearable, the Gemini saint would wander aimlessly on the outskirts of Sanctuary, the rocky hills deserted of all beings but the guards that occasionally patrolled the surroundings. As soon as they saw him alone, they knew it was the signal to approach, and the beating started.
But Deathmask was no fool. Saga’s usual hesitant excuses such as “I fell.”, or “A little sparring accident.” might suffice to convince trusting people like Aiolos and others that the nature of the bruises he tried to hide was innocent, but DM didn’t fall for it. And he started following Saga in secret.
How many of those beatings had he missed in the past? The Gemini saint was always so good to conceal his presence and create illusions to trick those who followed him, but DM was a gold saint too, after all, and usually managed to find him again relatively fast. Sanctuary wasn’t that big after all, especially when you can move at light speed.
But because no matter how often he arrived on time to stop them, he couldn’t stand knowing that others touched in such a disrespectful manner the body he had longed to possess for years, he finally lost control one afternoon, and rather than ignoring the Gemini saint’s furious gaze and leaving after scaring the guards, Deathmask latched for Saga, unexpectedly pinning him against the rocky wall by his shoulders. Before the older saint reacted, DM leaned closer and softly licked his lips, his tongue briefly tasting salt and surprise on the quivering lips.
“What are you doing?!” – In Saga’s answer there was anger yes, but also badly concealed anticipation, and even lust, the very tip of an iceberg that had been sleeping under the waters in that body starved for contact and affection, both denied and forsaken by his own will for years and years as yet another form of punishment.
“If you want pain and humiliation that much, then come to the Cancer Temple tonight at 10:00. I’ll give you much more than those pitiful wretches could ever dream of.”
Saga had no words to answer him, but the look in his eyes said he would be at the rendezvous. That night and every single one to come afterwards.
Walking away silently, Deathmask pondered what he would have to do to become a master of SM in a few hours, and where he could find all the necessary gear in so few time.
Ironically, rather than being able to savour his conquest, what he felt was grief to know he would never be able to touch with love and gentleness the very only person he ever wished to treat kindly, now that he was condemned to be the one bringing him pain instead.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes: That idea comes from one of my fics in progress, "Last Breath". :D
I'm currently busy with another fic I have been very inspired to write lately ("Into the Abyss"), but I'll eventualkly go back to "Last Breath" and my other WIPs. :)
Keywords : angst, monster, tongue.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the third time this month, and Deathmask was starting to get really sick of it. On the other hand, Saga didn’t look too pleased by the interruption either.
As for the guards, the apparition of the crazed Cancer saint had made them scramble faster than he ever thought possible, as if he was some sort of monster and the terror he inflicted upon them was enough to make them suddenly discover the seventh sense just to run away from him faster.
Their reactions around him were so very different than the ones they had around Saga, but it wasn’t a matter of power -- if anything, the Gemini saint was much more powerful than him, and DM knew it as well as the guards – no, it was because they knew Saga wouldn’t fight back. From the very first day one of the guards understood that, it had become the new sport among the low ranks of Sanctuary. Men who lacked the wisdom of gold saints, as well as the clemency or understanding necessary to grasp what exactly had happened during those 13 years.
The goddess might have brought all saints back to life and forgiven all their past errors and sins, but the guards of Sanctuary never forgot Saga’s face and what he had done in the past. Rather than blaming themselves for their choices or actions like many of the gold saints still did nowadays, they chose to blame Saga. And they never understood he wasn’t the same person he once was, now a mere shadow of guilt of the once proud gold saint he used to be.
So it all started. When the angst would become too unbearable, the Gemini saint would wander aimlessly on the outskirts of Sanctuary, the rocky hills deserted of all beings but the guards that occasionally patrolled the surroundings. As soon as they saw him alone, they knew it was the signal to approach, and the beating started.
But Deathmask was no fool. Saga’s usual hesitant excuses such as “I fell.”, or “A little sparring accident.” might suffice to convince trusting people like Aiolos and others that the nature of the bruises he tried to hide was innocent, but DM didn’t fall for it. And he started following Saga in secret.
How many of those beatings had he missed in the past? The Gemini saint was always so good to conceal his presence and create illusions to trick those who followed him, but DM was a gold saint too, after all, and usually managed to find him again relatively fast. Sanctuary wasn’t that big after all, especially when you can move at light speed.
But because no matter how often he arrived on time to stop them, he couldn’t stand knowing that others touched in such a disrespectful manner the body he had longed to possess for years, he finally lost control one afternoon, and rather than ignoring the Gemini saint’s furious gaze and leaving after scaring the guards, Deathmask latched for Saga, unexpectedly pinning him against the rocky wall by his shoulders. Before the older saint reacted, DM leaned closer and softly licked his lips, his tongue briefly tasting salt and surprise on the quivering lips.
“What are you doing?!” – In Saga’s answer there was anger yes, but also badly concealed anticipation, and even lust, the very tip of an iceberg that had been sleeping under the waters in that body starved for contact and affection, both denied and forsaken by his own will for years and years as yet another form of punishment.
“If you want pain and humiliation that much, then come to the Cancer Temple tonight at 10:00. I’ll give you much more than those pitiful wretches could ever dream of.”
Saga had no words to answer him, but the look in his eyes said he would be at the rendezvous. That night and every single one to come afterwards.
Walking away silently, Deathmask pondered what he would have to do to become a master of SM in a few hours, and where he could find all the necessary gear in so few time.
Ironically, rather than being able to savour his conquest, what he felt was grief to know he would never be able to touch with love and gentleness the very only person he ever wished to treat kindly, now that he was condemned to be the one bringing him pain instead.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes: That idea comes from one of my fics in progress, "Last Breath". :D
I'm currently busy with another fic I have been very inspired to write lately ("Into the Abyss"), but I'll eventualkly go back to "Last Breath" and my other WIPs. :)