Synesthesia. // [MasterCyclonisPiper]
Title: Synesthesia
Fandom: Storm Hawks
Theme/Prompt: Angst/Romance
Characters/Pairings: Master Cyclonis/Piper
Rating: K+
She shivers as the careful fingertips glide slowly up her thigh, and it’s so so so wrong, but Piper can’t bear to pull away, can’t bear to leave the clutches of this insane girl who used her, betrayed her, who was her best friend (who still is, deepdeepdeep down.)
Fingers trail delicately through her hair, loose against the sheets, and she struggles to not think of what they’re capable of, what they’ve already done, shedding so much blood and screams and tears, but still so soft, so unbearably soft. Piper knows that soon these thoughts won’t even matter to her, so clouded within darkness and taint that she won’t even be able to set them apart, all of them meshing together like some sick fantasy she can’t escape from.
She’s trapped - caged - so entirely wrapped up in this fascinating, intoxicating, destructive girl, that it’s all she can do to just stay sane (but even that seems a ridiculous notion, now.) Those corrupted fingers are all over her now, touching and teasing and tainting and she just can’t get enough, getting sucked deeper and faster into an endless pit that she’s pretty certain she never wants to leave. She feels the words, the lips against her ear, before she hears them.
“Sing me a song, little bird.”
Fandom: Storm Hawks
Theme/Prompt: Angst/Romance
Characters/Pairings: Master Cyclonis/Piper
Rating: K+
She shivers as the careful fingertips glide slowly up her thigh, and it’s so so so wrong, but Piper can’t bear to pull away, can’t bear to leave the clutches of this insane girl who used her, betrayed her, who was her best friend (who still is, deepdeepdeep down.)
Fingers trail delicately through her hair, loose against the sheets, and she struggles to not think of what they’re capable of, what they’ve already done, shedding so much blood and screams and tears, but still so soft, so unbearably soft. Piper knows that soon these thoughts won’t even matter to her, so clouded within darkness and taint that she won’t even be able to set them apart, all of them meshing together like some sick fantasy she can’t escape from.
She’s trapped - caged - so entirely wrapped up in this fascinating, intoxicating, destructive girl, that it’s all she can do to just stay sane (but even that seems a ridiculous notion, now.) Those corrupted fingers are all over her now, touching and teasing and tainting and she just can’t get enough, getting sucked deeper and faster into an endless pit that she’s pretty certain she never wants to leave. She feels the words, the lips against her ear, before she hears them.
“Sing me a song, little bird.”