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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    but recently, the flames are getting out of control; any
    #9

    I've never told a lie and that makes me a liar
    I've never made a bet, but we gamble with desire
    I've never lit a match with intent to start a fire


    The raven slips over his eyes, and he makes no motions to free himself of the bird. Although being powerless is not his preferred state, he knew the game that they were playing, and he would play it well. He was not going to be the first to flinch. So instead, he relaxes against the darkness, and lets his thorns tell him the story of her motion—trailing behind her as she circled him like he was prey. Weed could not stop the smile from curling the ends of his lips as her teeth found purchase on his flesh, and he shivered with pleasure. “Then you shall get no respect from me, Queen Raven.”

    She would get a lot from him—but perhaps respect would not be one of those things.

    “Undoubtedly,” his voice is wicked and full of mischief as her teeth continue to scrape his sides. It was exhilarating to be near someone like her. “Although they most likely say that out of fear; weeds are not for the faint of heart.” His voice is husky against and he tilts his blindfolded head to the side, one slender ear swiveling toward her, “Are you afraid of a little wild plant life, Queenie?”

    He is surprised by how pleasant it feels to have her curved back against him again, and he finds that he does not altogether mind the sensation of her pressed to his chest—something he did not expect. “Well then, perhaps we could make a deal.” He bites at her neck, perhaps a touch too hard, and then murmurs slightly, “I have heard that the Chamber is nice this time of year.” He waits a beat. 

    “And it has been altogether too quiet for my taste.”


    { W  E  E  D }
    carnage and glenna’s plant manipulating monster
    [Image: avatar-539.gif]
    she is the lamb; he is the slaughter
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    RE: but recently, the flames are getting out of control; any - by weed - 08-18-2015, 12:01 AM



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