Cheriour Leclair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chroniker) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trollxzibit2012-10-17 08:15 pm
chroniker) wrote in trollxzibit2012-10-17 08:15 pm
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND COCKROACHES MAY I PRESENT TO YOU THE INFAMOUS
2. Others will comment on your characters, anonymously or logged in, suggesting ships and prompts they want you to write about.
3. Anything goes, from fluffy to smut to everything in between! Also, there is no word limit, so it can be as short or as long as you want.
4. ????????
5. ALL THE SHIPPING EVER AND ALSO FEELINGS
GO GO GO AND SHIP FOR GREAT JUSTICE
also just a note BUT THIS ISN'T LIMITED TO JUST SCRIB PEOPLE you could put your character's ancestors/guardians and whatnot for the shipping too if you want to, whatever floats your boat
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She's prepared everything for him. He sits on the edge of the bed, white gaze burning into her bright pink eyes, and she smiles ever so sweetly as she approaches. Her little clockman, made of darkness and hate and everything that is horrible in between.
Anyone else would shudder away from the touch of that chilly dark skin but she delights in it, brushing over it with delicate little fingers and enjoying the confusion twitch in his features. Is he enjoying it too? That is soon answered by the tightening of his hand painfully around her forearm with a garble of angry-sounding words that she doesn't have the ability to understand, but all she does is put a finger on his lips to quiet him, letting him taste the sickeningly sweet taste that is undoubtedly seeping from her skin.
"Now, now, Cheriour. Be a good boy for me? I know you can." She says with a chuckle, and drapes her arms around him. Together they smell like ash and sugar, and she can't help but drink it all in- it smells like sweet, sweet destruction. Of course, that move by him before will not go unpunished- she digs her nails into his back and he reacts by growling into her neck, and the two start moving back and forth in a sort of dance that anyone would call the dance between lovers.
But, of course, it's not. It's a fight to overpower the other, a fight where white scars crisscross his body from where she attacked him with her teeth and nails, and where candy-red blood stains the front of her pretty little dress, and in the end, she knows that the victor is going to be the one who's made the other scream the loudest.
wow i'm sorry
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