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Summary: When there is nothing to hold you together but the elements and each other.
Characters: Dave Strider, Kanaya Maryam, Rose Lalonde
Ships: Dave<3Kanaya<3Rose
Category One:
Tags Present: Incest
Tags Not Used: None
No other Cat.1 tags apply.
Category Two:
Tags Present: None
Tags Not Used: None
No other Cat.2 tags apply.

Kanaya is her water.
The cool, flowing source of all life.
When Kanaya speaks, it spills over her,
slipping through her fingers as she tries to capture it.
Words as fluid splashing onto her thighs
refracting the light of her body into rainbows.
She feels so powerless sometimes,
as though Kanaya herself is sand,
falling through the cracks in her fingers,
no matter how tightly she squeezes.
Then Dave is there, reassuring heat,
flickering,
burning,
wrapping around her shoulders.
He brings with him the scent of time,
old pages and the crisp burn of pressed metal.
The perfect contrast.
They come together like the tempering of metal
to make the strongest sword.
Rose feels she’s the blood spilt by it,
the fresh pressed words forged by their pen.
Kanaya’s touches are silk,
skirts settling inbetween her thighs,
and Dave’s are the incendiary spark,
that flickers wanton across random spaces.
While Rose’s are tentative, yet calculated,
a fibonacci sequence of pleasure.
She loves it.

He sees fire in Kanaya.
Swirling passion bound to blinding light.
When she speaks, her words are flame,
the flicks of tongue against her lips and teeth
are the crackle of something being consumed.
It’s Dave.
He often feels overwhelmed,
fire is ardent,
wrapping around him, almost suffocating.
Rose comes to his rescue,
her cool, tempered touches
misting calm over him,
like the wet fog of a waterfall.
It’s perfect.
Together, he thinks,
being with them is like diving on a hot day.
From sun ripened heat,
to cool underwater bliss,
melding together perfectly.
Kanaya’s touch is a song,
the perfect backbone for the sickest of beats,
and Rose’s are sweet and flowing,
a fresh drink of apple juice, soothing a dry throat.
While Dave’s are warm and almost frantic,
as if every day were his last.
He loves it.
Characters: Dave Strider, Kanaya Maryam, Rose Lalonde
Ships: Dave<3Kanaya<3Rose
Category One:
Tags Present: Incest
Tags Not Used: None
No other Cat.1 tags apply.
Category Two:
Tags Present: None
Tags Not Used: None
No other Cat.2 tags apply.

Kanaya is her water.
The cool, flowing source of all life.
When Kanaya speaks, it spills over her,
slipping through her fingers as she tries to capture it.
Words as fluid splashing onto her thighs
refracting the light of her body into rainbows.
She feels so powerless sometimes,
as though Kanaya herself is sand,
falling through the cracks in her fingers,
no matter how tightly she squeezes.
Then Dave is there, reassuring heat,
flickering,
burning,
wrapping around her shoulders.
He brings with him the scent of time,
old pages and the crisp burn of pressed metal.
The perfect contrast.
They come together like the tempering of metal
to make the strongest sword.
Rose feels she’s the blood spilt by it,
the fresh pressed words forged by their pen.
Kanaya’s touches are silk,
skirts settling inbetween her thighs,
and Dave’s are the incendiary spark,
that flickers wanton across random spaces.
While Rose’s are tentative, yet calculated,
a fibonacci sequence of pleasure.
She loves it.

He sees fire in Kanaya.
Swirling passion bound to blinding light.
When she speaks, her words are flame,
the flicks of tongue against her lips and teeth
are the crackle of something being consumed.
It’s Dave.
He often feels overwhelmed,
fire is ardent,
wrapping around him, almost suffocating.
Rose comes to his rescue,
her cool, tempered touches
misting calm over him,
like the wet fog of a waterfall.
It’s perfect.
Together, he thinks,
being with them is like diving on a hot day.
From sun ripened heat,
to cool underwater bliss,
melding together perfectly.
Kanaya’s touch is a song,
the perfect backbone for the sickest of beats,
and Rose’s are sweet and flowing,
a fresh drink of apple juice, soothing a dry throat.
While Dave’s are warm and almost frantic,
as if every day were his last.
He loves it.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-04 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-17 10:28 pm (UTC)