3 words: fire, scent, confusion - I blame Allison!

[elizathemekhet.livejournal.com]

http://elizathemekhet.livejournal.com/6515.html

Every shard a tear

[mionassmaster.livejournal.com]

We’re in the meadow lying on the grass, the suns are in the sky and I feel warm and content, the cow is stood munching grass down on the other side of the paddock, she looks so docile it makes me laugh.  Next to me is my Queen, she is running her fingers through my hair and smiling at me, “Tell me you love me my beloved Endemion”, her voice is pure like snow and the sound ripples through me like a song sung directly to my heart.

 I shuffle onto my elbows and take her hand in mine, looking directly into her eyes, “My beloved Queen I adore you with all of my being, my soul yearns for you when you are not present and my heart continues to beat only to please you.”

 She smiles at me, a long smile that seems to go on forever…Then it all changes…Her fist slams down onto my chest, smashing my heart into pieces “LIAR!” she roars as her form shifts into a scene of terrible beauty.

 The jewel she gave me cracks…

 I awaken suddenly, Nyght lies next to me sleeping soundly and I am free…I reach up to my chest and can still feel where She punched me, my hand finds it’s way to the jewel around my neck.

 I look at Nyght as she sleeps…I know she will protect me if the Queen sends her minions for me…I know she will die to stop them…I love her for that.  I also know that should the Queen come herself and speak to me that I wouldn’t be able to resist her…Nyght would kill me rather than see me reduced to that and for that I will always love her.

 My Nyght-Star…My saviour or my slayer…To me there is little difference.

[Lost] Thoughts on....

[frothy-bunny.livejournal.com]

( Liam  )

(Lost) Blood, shadow, sunrise (via annwfyn)

[akonken.livejournal.com]

Darkness to Tabitha's light, distance to her intimacy, there was something Rose found elusive and intimidating about Isaac.

She couldn't put her finger on it if anybody had noticed and asked. She couldn't have said that his eyes, like shadow with their unblinking gaze, frightened her somehow when they widened in concern as he repeated her name. She couldn't have explained that his papery skin made her long for Witte's touch. She wouldn't have been able to express how she felt about his bond with Tabitha in any way.

And in the clamour of pain and fear, the blood and…whatever else from the animals and people; as even she felt completely drained and scrubbed raw, she watched as he saved their lives – her life – knowing that, at least right now, she was incapable of returning the favour.

It wasn't until she awoke, the sunrise rousing her from disorienting sleep, that she realised she hadn't even thanked him.

(Lost) The Hunt

[spydacarnage.livejournal.com]

A background piece, inspired by faerierhona's words of hunt, prey, and passion.


A wisp of flame trails out behind him as his powerful wings cut through the air around him. His eyes trace the contours of the land beneath, searching for his latest target. It was small, maybe the size of a goat, although it was more like a mouse in shape and activity.

A brief movement in the foliage to the right. He banks sharply, the mouse coming into view. More movement, quicker now. It must have spotted him; it’s running. Dodging in and out between the trees it darted, thinking it would save it. Little did it know, it was only delaying the inevitable. He revelled in the thrill of the chase, the chance to flex his claws, to bring down his prey.

From his altitude, tracking the mouse was easy, his eyes now locked on target. Starting to dive, sleek and graceful, blazing towards the mouse like a comet. Faster and faster, catching up every second; scorching the tree line as he flies. It darts left and right, but it cannot shake him. The feeling flowing through him, like ecstasy; the taste already in his mind. Closer.

With a jolt, his talons extend, barely missing as the mouse ducks off to the side at the last minute. It stumbles; the sudden movement causing it to lose balance. As it recovers, the fiery form circles and prepares to dive in again. This time the mouse doesn’t have the momentum, and duck and dive as it might, the second swoop is successful, his claws sinking deep into its back.

A feeling of pleasure spreads through him; pride, victory. And guilt. How can he ever explain this to the Lady of the Ship. The need to chase, to kill; against the desire not to. Every time she fixes him, brings him back, and every time he is sent out again. He sits there on the still wriggling body, caught between the pleasure and the pain. To feed or not to feed. He has to disappoint someone – the Captain or the Lady.

With regret, he thrusts his beak deep into the back of its neck and rips. Flesh and bone torn asunder; blood erupting. Once again, the Captain wins. The Lady has work to do once more.