I like cyclonis/arrow.
Face is turned upward, eyes boring into the metal of the ceiling. The door slides open and he enters, his gaze on her, judging and scrutinizing. She recognizes easily his steady, purposeful gait. It echoes in the grim solitude that wraps her in a tight embrace. The frisson of eager anticipation darting through her body is a lapse in her strong, impervious demeanour. Did not turn to greet him, the barest acknowledgment was an eyebrow curling upwards in amusement.
"Cyclonis!" Releasing the name from his lips like a chilly winter blowing across a meadow. In response the corner of her lips lift upwards in an ominous smirk, so subtle that only he can feel it. Her eyes do not lose their focus from the ceiling, "Storm hawk, to what do I own the pleasure?" The serpentine quality of her voice and the harsh sultriness of its cadence enhances the portentous ring in her greeting and he finds himself tensing because of it. "You know why, Cyclonis!" Snaps brusquely, narrowing stony eyes at her, they glimmer intensely, imposingly. "Please refresh my memory." There seems to be a longer stretch to her sentence, as if she is happy to be wasting his time. "What is the neon totem?" Eyes now reduced to mere slits, as he allows his heated glare to roam her pliant frame.
When her head finally falls sideways to look at him, he catches the glint like the sheer brilliance of an exploding star; his shoulders square resolutely, setting his jaw. She didn't bother to suppress the mocking, biting laugh at his impression of intimidation. "There is nothing funny about this, Cylonis !" Matching her scorn with his frosty anger, "You're going to tell us what you know or-"
He tells himself he feels no stirring of pity or regret.
"Or what Storm hawk!" Violet eyes glow with malicious intent; cruelty darkens the whites of her eyes. His fingers curl into fists and rest by his side, shaking with the emotion raging within him. Callous derision cradles each word as she goads him, ignoring his display of indignant fury, "What do you think you hope to extricate from me with your pathetic words?"
"Last I recall it was you who was completely at my mercy and I didn't need to use words to subject you to my whims." Interjecting smug gratification and enough inflection to make it resonant as carelessly nonchalant. A red flush taints his cheeks, his features sharpened then smoothed again to a professional mask. His stomach wrenches violently as memories assail his mind. Invisible hands ghost over his body, trailing his flesh in a manner so nauseatingly lascivious it penetrates his soul. Staring at the object of his violation, waves of uncontrollable rage roll over his body, electrifying the veins of his muscles. "Arrow, are you all right?" Speaking with stilted, dark velvet in her voice, pleased with the ring of pretentious hollowness in her words.
It is solely due to his training that he is able to maintain some semblance of control. Nevertheless, he guesses correctly that she can see through his façade and it is only a matter of time before, utilizing her devious methods, would burrow under his skin until he burst a blood vessel. "I'm fine!" With as much rude curtness he can muster, "You however, look so naked without your armour!" There is an observant, contemplative timbre that he knew would pierce her nicely, rankle that complacency. Anything concerning her losses or denial of her regal right as queen would provoke a response. Having known her intimately, it is not an entirely difficult task to manipulate her. Nevertheless, for all her faults, the idea that he could sink-to her level did engender some queasiness borne out of chivalrous courtesy. Ugly lines of malevolence crush the little prettiness that shaped her face, warping into an expression of crystal-clear evil and deathly disposition, "I'm managing fine Arrow. I will rise again and when I do-" Corners of her mouth pulling backwards to reveal a nasty grin, a twisted parody of a smile.
"You're never going to rise again Cyclonis! Your reign of terror is over." He swallows the distance between them in two long strides. Leaning slightly over her body shackled to a hard surface in a position of repose, he stares into two bottomless pits of inhumanity. He could drown in them, even now they tug unrelenting at his heart. "Awfully sure of yourself, think yourself a man!" Openly ridiculing him in the privacy of such close proximity. Blade thin eyebrows stretch high on a pale forehead, "Rest assured it was because of what I taught you." Arrow's face stiffens, trickles of icy chill weaves along the length of his spine, "Whatever you did to me?" Snarling low from within his throat, "I didn't enjoy a minute of it!" Bringing his face so close to hers that her pupils enlarge to luminous orbs of baleful rancour, her harsh breathing mildly scorches his face. Her dark, sultry scent wafts into him, blood stirs with disquiet. 'The only thing I'm enjoying is seeing you in these chains." His fingers touch the metallic cuff that binds her hands and a self-righteous, imperious smile releases the tension on his face, "I helped put you inside them-you underestimated me Cyclonis. A mistake that will be paying for years to come and for all the crimes against the kingdom."
As she bristles under his cool, belittling tone; it retrieves a feeling of immense glee and confidence. Unconsciously, his wandering fingers dips low, tracing a pattern down her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake but the effect is carefully hidden from exposure. "No more playing games-You have no influence or options here. Assist us!" Said with a strange sort of emphasis, "And maybe we will consider letting you have a little freedom." Whisper soft, almost on the brim of disarmingly soothing. Hand falls gently on a soft, concave breast whilst a thumb rasps against a taunt nipple.
Arrow can feel his own arousal mounting as an excited gasp leaves her cruelly lined mouth unexpectedly, pausing his motions. For a second her mouth hangs open, lips quivering enticingly and the storm hawk is captivated by the sudden loss of viciousness, an uncharacteristic needy vulnerable look surfaces and it takes him by surprise. It will occur to him later that he is and will be the only and the last one who has perceived such a physical anomaly from the treacherous female. Her rich red tongue reaches out to wet her lips and Arrow is visited by the urge to nip the delicate membrane. Meanwhile, his fingers continue to massage her supple mould, white hot burning sensations dance in the contact. Suddenly, she reaches upwards to capture his lips into a deep undiluted kiss.
Cyclonis knows it is wrong to feel like this. Aerrow know how truly unforgivable his actions are-especially when a sweet, smiling Piper enters his mind. Neither wants to stop. Cyclonis can feel her cold, restless spirit abate replaced by the simple intrinsic need of one human for another. The time Aerrow was in her captivity, first it was intrigue that bubbled inside her, curiosity concerning the obstinate Sky knight. Regrettably, it turned into something else, so alien and foreign that it created a demand for her to experience more. Maybe it was love. The young ruler had an inkling of what it was like to care about another or maybe a hole of loneliness so deep-seated, anything would suffice to fill it. Cyclonis held no surreal beliefs in love, just an appreciation for an exceptional performance. Aerrow was all about being exceptional. It was a pity he displayed such an obdurate loyalty to such ridiculous ideals even when she tried wholeheartedly to convince him otherwise . When death finally catches up with him, Cyclonis will be present, standing tall and proud, serving as a reminder of the opportunity he so foolishly disregarded but until then...
It is hot, dirty and wet, their tongues and teeth battling with each other, vying for dominance. Everything else is swept from his mind except the raw, primordial yearnings that begin to control his actions. His hand moves downward, pressing against silky skin dotted with sweat, fingers searching for her warmth. She isn't the evil overlord that nearly bought the apocalypse on their heads but a girl, willingly submissive to his applications. His fingers slip past the rubber band of her pants and trace a direct pattern to her core. She is burning ice that threatens to melt him into her.
Her breathing was slow and measured but grew to be ragged and heavy when he first enters the moistness, tentatively then with more initiative. Their mouths break apart from their intimate caress, and she gazes at him through hooded eyes brimming with ardent craving. "Do you really want me?" Arrow answers with candour by inserting two more fingers and squeezing. Her breath hitches in her throat, flexes her thighs together and the look escalates, inflicting him though he is trying to exercise control on his rampaging hormones. They could be his undoing and he wants so desperately to make amends.
This time it was he who resumes the oral banter and her groans reverberate on his tongue, they duel. Delightful sensations ran up and down her spine. He draws apart to mark out kisses along her jaw line, lower to the curvature of her neck, her taste a tangy combination that heats his blood, pounding of his heart in his ears. Changes his location over her throbbing pulse, he sucks and bites while from her mouth emerges sexual noises of blissful approval. "Arrow yes! Oh yes !"
"Cyclonis!" Whispering throatily into her ear, licking the inner curve, "Where is the neon totem?"
"Dark ace has it somewhere in the third quadrant of beta 6!" Rendered oblivious by the throngs of passion and lust, the sense of Arrow inside her, him desiring her as a woman, was a dream she wasn't ready to awake from. The truth dawns on her too late when he pulls away in one swift movement, victory shinning insultingly in his emerald eyes, evidence of her own failure reflected in the glossy triumphant sheen. Lips remain suspended in air, the last delicious sound dying in her throat and a soundless choke is engendered by the brutal tightening of her inner chamber as if thick, pitiless hands crush her, turning a fragile-beating heart into ashes.
"Thanks for the information. It will help return security to the kingdom." A jubilant grin stretches across his face, displaying rows of bright teeth as he savours the horrified, aghast gape from one of the most notorious villains in history. "Goodbye my darling!" His parting farewell laced with abrasive sarcasm and edged caustic. Shutting the door dramatically on her flare of acrimonious outrage, "YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS INSULT STORM HAWK! YOU WILL PAY DEARLY!" Shrieking so loudly that veins materialize on her throat like dark, gruesome slashes. Her strength drains from her body abruptly; a crippling wave of aridness crept over her skin and dried out her mouth. Weakness drags her to subside into her unwanted bed. Her eyes divert to the shredded skin of her wrists, victims of the brutal edges of the manacles. He chafed her unfeelingly with such impudent disregard that it knifed into her and twisted sharply. Nonetheless, besides her initial fury, there lingered in the crevice of her heart, remanants of wistful sorrow that nurtured the hope of his return and would continue to do so for –eternity. It was a barely audible part of her, often silenced in her pursuit for domination. The little girl who longed for a family, her stern-faced grandmother. This small person would have gladly forsaken all the responsibilities if only to be-free and eternally innocent.
This person wouldn't have had an alternative plan to defeat her enemy. If Aerrow had just a little more sexual prowess, Cyclonis smirks to herself, sneering contemptuously at the invisible image of the deceivable boy, he would have unearthed a lot more to the plot. The neon totem was important, she would curse her youthful stupidity with vehemence but it was a small speck in a much grander scheme. It would take some time but ultimately, poor Aerrow will come to realize, Master Cyclonis was meant to be on top.
He gave the order in a composed, neutral voice, nothing in his command belying the turbulent, aberrant emotions swirling in gut but he knew them to be wrong. Everything Cyclonis forced him to abide by was filthy and erroneous. Testament to the depravity of her and her people. No noble storm hawk would concede on his own free will yet an insidious detached part of him, buried in the deep recesses of his mind, could admit to enjoying the nubile body that the unflattering garment obscured. He probably would never 'endure' it again or reveal the activities of that night. The knowledge of what pure unhindered passion felt like, moulding with his body and feeding him with its salacious taste. He saw a feminine, sensual side of her that would leave doubts in his confidents of its existence. The remnants of his captured days, he was teetered on a precipice of pure unbridled pleasure, and he knew it will haunt him even as he soared through the skies. Or maybe time will have erased it all and he will have finally forgiven himself.
He stalked stealthily through her castle, adrenalin pumped through him, coiling his muscles in tension. Ears are attuned to the slightest change of the wind. There is the looming threat over his life, intensified because of the absence of backup. Barely had he safely traversed the hallway when a sharp shriek sliced the air, freezing the blood in his veins. Then morbid uneasiness settled itself back into the area, Arrow released the pent up anxiousness in small breaths timed to his steps. "Halt!" Arrow is arrested to a stop; spasms of fear vibrate through his muscles, encouraging him to run. 'I can't get caught-I'm so close!'
"Did you honestly think I wouldn't catch you!" She crooned with fiendish delight as if she is the cat and he the canary. A sinister smirk, sickeningly confident and utterly wicked, brandished on her lips, dressing her features in a malevolent light.
He made a deal for his team's safety; a deal that he hoped they would never come to hear of. It was too shameful, a stain on his honour. He would do it again if it meant a safe exit for his team. Taunting him with his capitulation wasn't the bitter medicine of his punishment; somehow she used her skill to unlock the animalistic part in him that rejoiced at her administrations.
She was so flexible and creative even if sadistic is primarily her forte and could be used for pleasure. "We are nearly there Arrow!" Piper shattered the dangerous realm of thought he had inadvertently immersed himself in. Barely had a second passed before he swiftly shrouded his face once again in impeccable calm. "Let us do this. Victory is ours!" Inwardly praising the heavens that the words didn't die down on his lips from the acid coating his tongue, flavour almost similar to her.
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