shadowsong26 (
shadowsong26) wrote in
rainbowfic2013-10-29 08:38 pm
Dirt Brown #20, Spilt Ink #20, Fake Blood Red #14
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Compelled
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Dirt Brown #20. Smell of the living earth, Spilt Ink #20. If you like a whole bunch of things and I like a whole bunch of things, maybe one of the things that we both like, can be each other., Fake Blood Red #14. Oh, yeah, that was much less totally pathetic.
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, miniature, photography, charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card I5 "friends with benefits"), yarn
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Lux
Warnings: Implied interspecies sex, discussion of lack of free will
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Lux hates the compulsions that are bred into her. Even after eons of solitary punishment, they are so much a part of her that she is never certain if her actions come from them, or her own desires. If she even has her own desires.
And yet…
She twines her fingers in Mariko’s hair. This little human, this brief flare, this being she should envy, should hate, fascinates her.
Maybe she is compelled, maybe there is some greater purpose in play, but Mariko’s hair is soft in her hands, her lips are eager under hers, and, briefly, Lux doesn’t care.
Story: Compelled
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Dirt Brown #20. Smell of the living earth, Spilt Ink #20. If you like a whole bunch of things and I like a whole bunch of things, maybe one of the things that we both like, can be each other., Fake Blood Red #14. Oh, yeah, that was much less totally pathetic.
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, miniature, photography, charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card I5 "friends with benefits"), yarn
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Lux
Warnings: Implied interspecies sex, discussion of lack of free will
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Lux hates the compulsions that are bred into her. Even after eons of solitary punishment, they are so much a part of her that she is never certain if her actions come from them, or her own desires. If she even has her own desires.
And yet…
She twines her fingers in Mariko’s hair. This little human, this brief flare, this being she should envy, should hate, fascinates her.
Maybe she is compelled, maybe there is some greater purpose in play, but Mariko’s hair is soft in her hands, her lips are eager under hers, and, briefly, Lux doesn’t care.
