Of gods and monsters.

A tiny bit of fluff for Julia, who suggested a pear, a lightning strike, a howl and a fluffy comforter. . Also inspired by Baby Thor of Baby Monsters / Little Hero's range :


*****
Dio seemed to be enjoying himself. He'd arranged himself on a bed of furs, the sleek black of his puma pelt outlining the clear, smooth lines of his muscled body. Arranged in such a way that the light reflected from the fountains dappled over his tanned skin, right where everyone would see him as they came into the Great Hall.

He was slicing translucent slices from a rose-blushed snow-pear. Unhurried, so as to encourage people to watch him, he cut slice after slow slice. No question but that he wanted others to see the broad strength of his hands, the dexterity of his fingers with the short bronze blade, the juice of the pear seeping, glossy, across his nails, the pendulous bead of nectar that formed on the edge of the slice as he lifted it high and tipped back his head, exposing elegant, vulnerable skin. The flash of tongue on pale pear flesh was calculated to arouse, to attract, the working of his stretched neck as he swallowed to inspire speculation.

In their hiding place behind the drapes, Thor caught Cupid's eye, and raised one eyebrow. Cupid smothered a giggle behind a chubby hand, and then gave Thor the nod. Thor pulled one child-sized thunderbolt from his knapsack with a sturdy toddler's hand, and slid it across the marble floor to Cupid. with his own bolt fizzing warm against his palm, Thor took aim, and looked at Cupid, mouthing one, two three, and then, as one, they threw.

[The howl is implied ;p]

Of gods and monsters.

A tiny bit of fluff for Julia, who suggested a pear, a lightning strike, a howl and a fluffy comforter. . Also inspired by Baby Thor of Baby Monsters / Little Hero's range :


*****
Dio seemed to be enjoying himself. He'd arranged himself on a bed of furs, the sleek black of his puma pelt outlining the clear, smooth lines of his muscled body. Arranged in such a way that the light reflected from the fountains dappled over his tanned skin, right where everyone would see him as they came into the Great Hall.

He was slicing translucent slices from a rose-blushed snow-pear. Unhurried, so as to encourage people to watch him, he cut slice after slow slice. No question but that he wanted others to see the broad strength of his hands, the dexterity of his fingers with the short bronze blade, the juice of the pear seeping, glossy, across his nails, the pendulous bead of nectar that formed on the edge of the slice as he lifted it high and tipped back his head, exposing elegant, vulnerable skin. The flash of tongue on pale pear flesh was calculated to arouse, to attract, the working of his stretched neck as he swallowed to inspire speculation.

In their hiding place behind the drapes, Thor caught Cupid's eye, and raised one eyebrow. Cupid smothered a giggle behind a chubby hand, and then gave Thor the nod. Thor pulled one child-sized thunderbolt from his knapsack with a sturdy toddler's hand, and slid it across the marble floor to Cupid. with his own bolt fizzing warm against his palm, Thor took aim, and looked at Cupid, mouthing one, two three, and then, as one, they threw.

[The howl is implied ;p]