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ONE LAST CARESS another time, another place. awoken by screams: chilled regurgitation of grievances and raw heartache. it's a girlish throw of the voice, and lydia jolted awake. wake up, wake up, wake up. it's a mantra. a small voice had lifted from the murk of night. it's familiar voice, it's cadence been a scathing caress, burning her ears for a great deal of time. it is only now the heart softens, fractured by the pain in this voice. she stood, she remembers standing. she remembers being hauled from that thin veil of slumber. she remembers death; she remembers tears. she remembers loss. she does not want them. no. it belonged in the past. it was supposed to remain buried. it was supposed to be forgotten. it was a cruel thing to ask of her self, or even to suggest to her young. but it was the only way. she'd found herself, she pulled and pried at the shattered make of her heart. her pain had been revealed to those children, and now it was time for the grieving to cease. it was time for fresh starts and moving forward. Behind them lay a trail of tears. Behind them was ... Nothing. The children -- oh, but they weren't that young now, were they? -- were kept, hidden. they were a cahce of beloved treasures. she'd not have them be seen, not yet. and so, prodding them into the underbrush, the thickets, she guided them. and, after the oxblood rouge of her eyes counted their heads -- one, two, three and four -- her movements guided her into the orchard. it smelled the way a gateway ought to smell. there, lingered in the air laid traces of other strangers, other lost souls. it was a familiar desolation. she found some measure of confidence, some hope, in the discovery of the orchard. the night had come, thriving and hungry. even with the warmer months having arrived, there still carried some chill to the air. and it drew her thoughts back to that night. she wished nothing more than to forget. and at the very least, their arrival bade some freedom from the torment. no, instead of painful memories, her thoughts would pass onto the matter at hand: where in the hell they were, and what laid ahead.

-- LYDIA. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Maecenas fringilla venenatis elit, vel adipiscing metus malesuada id. Ut rhoncus pharetra tortor, luctus sagittis enim porta vel. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Maecenas sollicitudin malesuada tempus. Mauris vitae velit massa. Nam fringilla dignissim pretium. Donec sit amet ipsum nec tellus vulputate tempor. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ac rhoncus sem. Aliquam feugiat nunc id odio pharetra consequat. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Aenean nec turpis ac lacus laoreet semper. Praesent tellus sem, viverra ut aliquet ut, ultricies sed elit. Fusce pretium tempus dui, nec consectetur metus condimentum convallis. Mauris pharetra, metus ut dictum eleifend, ligula eros pulvinar dolor, vel ornare augue ipsum eget dolor. Praesent eget lacus eros. Donec tincidunt ante vel erat elementum consequat. Donec ut nisl et velit pellentesque euismod at vitae sapien. Etiam fringilla accumsan lacus non iaculis. Mauris nec suscipit lectus. "Nulla non aliquet justo. Aenean ipsum ligula, posuere non volutpat in, elementum at tortor." Cras ac nisi quis lacus varius varius. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. In velit nibh, volutpat in commodo nec, imperdiet vitae justo. In a urna quis erat aliquet posuere at non justo. Fusce condimentum felis a magna accumsan consectetur. Etiam vel augue sit amet lacus dignissim varius. Suspendisse id felis velit, in pulvinar purus. Mauris libero tellus, facilisis at tempus faucibus, convallis consequat mi. In nulla mi, fringilla eu varius quis, sagittis ut magna. Aliquam erat volutpat. Sed mauris nulla, tincidunt sit amet elementum eget, sodales nec sapien. Vivamus vel nunc turpis, eu tincidunt ligula. Cras adipiscing risus vitae orci sodales ac adipiscing lorem placerat. Aenean mauris dolor, pharetra id consequat ut, rhoncus ultrices metus. Mauris pulvinar, nunc a consequat lacinia, arcu dolor commodo velit, vel faucibus turpis lectus eu magna. Donec ultrices sem sed nulla tristique ullamcorper. Integer imperdiet magna eu lectus bibendum molestie. Phasellus facilisis, dui vitae placerat adipiscing, dui odio ultricies mauris, in posuere est justo sit amet libero. Phasellus non mi magna, vel ullamcorper dui. Nam iaculis diam in lorem mollis ac pretium turpis aliquam. Donec iaculis gravida aliquam. Suspendisse ullamcorper, ipsum a porttitor sodales, risus dolor imperdiet odio, sit amet pharetra enim risus et turpis.

this is where the post will go passion for truth - will use unjustly means to find it. trusts no-one - often uses other wolves to her own advantage, repaying the favour only if they grant her cause to. disciplined soldier, her family taught her the ways of a warrior before their separation - she became highly independent, often coming off as cold and anti-social. downplays her emotions - only ever shows anger/aggression in it's fullest form. all else is ignored. she hasn't known love or kindness so doesn't know how to show it or if shown to her she will be extremely suspicious of the one delivering it. rebellious. dangerous. witty. intelligent. " HELLO I'M A SPEECHY SPEECH. "

ORIGINAL SIZE

-- lydia a rogue, a stray. a taste for the open wilds, no more than a tramp swaddled in the humbled ruin of libertine whim ? borne of havoc incarnate and wild felinity. Boldly, a stride penetrated the boundaries, dragging her like a blade into the claimed lands ? plunging the de wilde woman deeper into infamy, abandoning social conventions for want of entertainment. There came the patron?s stench, his cologne thick on the very rise of a breeze. The realm carried faint familiarity ? as though walking through a dream, as though the pathway were etched, burned into the deep recesses of memory. It was unlikely she had, unlikely it were known to her previous to this. It mattered little in her mind, though she?d carried a fondness for some nostalgic thought ? more perhaps those carried towards, or for, family not often seen. Her father was notably absent, and her mother facetiously dependent on he. Though she knew much of her father?s kin ? the sons and daughters of uncle Iairos ? she met none of her mother?s. They were landlocked in a place of privilege. Amusing to think her own freedom was borne on the idea she?d return to said kin, to inform them of her mother?s fate. Obligations, nor duty, were things held dearly to the de Wilde woman. No, whim propelled her action. Impulse was the name of the fire in her heart.  A tongue passed against the hot, silk of her dark lips; the tender flesh ran against the warmth of her teeth. The stride of the woman had soon paused ? the silhouette of the beast had fallen into sight. The rich crimson of her eyes drew a deeper touch of thirst. It was far from salacious intent, this was a hunger for simpler company and her steps quickly reclaimed their gait, murdering the distance that had remained between them. Boldly, she drew into the webbings of his presence, not close enough to touch but enough for the invasion to be clear, as unannounced as it may have been. ?So,? the sultry rasp culled silence, romancing the beast into conversation. She spoke nothing for a moment, more to gather words and thought. ?I suppose you?re the title-holder of this land.? A mild statement, bland and uninteresting.

I'm treading water, I need to sleep a while
My lamb and martyr, you look so precious.

you were the life i knew. i worshiped you, borne of immortality; eternal loathing. my breath with you, to satiate; ardently, possess. each intricate, detailed memory of you, their violent passions─grasping at their naked, and illicit tenderness; your moistened lips, inviting mouth. avid importunes their intimate and salivating, mania. buried deep in their carnal sequence and immaculate surrender laid over my slender, lithe-defined waist with the groping pressure of your smooth, and sensual hands. ours were bind, tied by doting surges of avaricious addiction; their absolution, infinite pining and desperate altercation of love. i love you. i love you, my screams emit; embraced together, wrapping in the inexorable disconsolateness of life and appetence. even in our most passionate hatred, destructive vengeance, you were mine to relish for the rest of eternity. as we held one another so close; gripping, panting, kissing in consummate throes of rapturous elation. beneath you. above you. were you surrounded by the coarse hunger of my tightly, wrapping arms. my lips to the curve of your ear, and my fingers. to trace the roping flesh of your slackened jaw. your heart consumed me. each breath i drew as you came inside. you were the maddening desire i grew to desperately crave, gasping. as i longed for the warmth of your powerful embrace. and the will of my sadistic and enamoured cerebration, congealed by the binary stench of your adulterous attentive; with you, my heart collides; exploits, screaming unto the choleric affirmations of resurrection and renewal. unrelenting. as their corporeal intent devastates, devours. splitting, their frenzied ardour in exalted salvation and cutting rivers. you were my life, my pulse, my desire ridden in blank and emptied stares cursed of wanton affection. the onset of breath, the beginning of love; when i opened my eyes i kissed and tasted you so, deeply. feeling, the suppleness of your generous lips, its bottom curve seeped in darkened arteries; full and swollen, a lulling amative. their carnal, erotically lush detail; saturated in the blood of our violent fucking. you gave me life. drunk on sensuous euphoria; swelling, on the sanguine cruor you fed, and replenished my body. my lover's impulse, abuse, delicately smoothing; the visceral course of warm flesh, nails. you are delicious, you are magnetic and i want you.



our moment was raw, consumed by passion. when i laid my eyes across your body and we exchanged hungry, and feral gazes. i could feel you. touch you. taste you. on the curve of my lips, the surface of my long, and moistened tongue. i was drowned in your memory, and soaked by the heat of your wanton transgressions; enveloped in waves of extreme pain and euphoric, pleasure. my body, was a reminder of what you would do to me. delicate, and shivering with need; each night, each waking and gasping hour where the seconds were your hands, and their darkness. lengthening with the screams of dolor impurity. it became lavishing, how you would crush and hold me so close; and i grew, desperate. wild. coveting, i was getting accustomed to your abuse. i grew acclimatized to your intense love, and equally intense hatred. i would fret, weep in the eagerness of your bold adulation. your envy possessed no mercy, aggressive as you had been. and beneath the devouring warmth of your touch, you whispered, demanding; that no one else would have me. i complied, out of love and complete adoration. to feel you beneath my fingertips, to caress my soft palms above your hard and powerful thighs. with you, i was eternally lusting and left aching with need. breathless. i fed on your soul. i ravished your skin. i would kiss your lips, with your mouth to my neck draining the red from their seas. sweet, as your taste filled my lush, and generous fangs. made sweeter, by your hoarse groans and eager hands roaming with a delicious, kneading intent. it were moments like these. moments between you and i, that made our separation unbearable. the gentleness with which i moved. the soft and painful cries i would passionately emit, as you bowed your head into my chest, and buried your nails into my shivering thighs. i would hear your breathing as you panted against me with thirsting endeavour, its ragged, arousing pulse. its vivid, aching noise. always slow and sensual at first before deepening with the coarse growls of your, carnal ache. sharp, hitched then rapidly, intensifying; your hunger was thick, satiated - a burning, throbbing pressure that swelled hotly against the base of your spine and traveled to the heat of your thighs and abdomen. i would remember your touch, as did your violence, consume me.


mourning the loss of her soulmate, Vivienn? weeps in desolation, in silence. she had abandoned them all, in a moment of impulsive selfishness; her lover, her king, their children. their memories swept unto sea, washed by her sins and immaculate grievances. their fates relinquished, until all that were left were fractured memories; dreaming lamentations. and in the darkness she covets and cries, pining in a hiss of wretched agony. a low unrelenting prayer, that she may forever be condemned: to breathe the eternal affliction of punishment, love, lust and insatiable hatred. a memory so vivid and wild, she feels as though he were always near. beside her. inside her. relentlessly, she paces, though her graceful silhouette were soft, ethereal─forgiving and erotic─ever so, tender; wrapped the seductive contours of her amorous feminine curves, and mesmerizing face. a ghost chained to the mortal realm, violently bound in flesh and spirit─without salvation, without release, her heart grew weak and frail. her lips would quiver in their low, purring melody; resigned to weep in the horror of her wake─so vast, so empty; this abandonment; this loneliness. her gaze glistening, wet and heavy with tears. "i bare my soul for you to see," she whispers, and her voice were low and sultry; pleading, in merciless endeavour. she whispers, with her slender body languidly stretched along the cold, damp earth. she whispers, and her eyes gently begin to close─slipping into another long, aching dream.

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“But of course, Madame!” she mockingly parroted, comically allowing the richness of her voice to drop, mimicking his to the best of her ability. It brought small joy to her – allowing a more youthful, playful side to show, like stretching the ache of a long disused muscle. It was like finally reaching that one itch in the middle of your back. It also proved that she, that gilded cobra, that coral fang, was capable of showing some congeniality towards others in the form of genuine smiles. One drew wide against the lines of her lips, splaying them into a grin. It was strange, odd – but not as foreign as she initially felt. Her body extended itself, her legs pulled out so that she could physically stretch as his next words reached her. her head made the softest of shakes, one borne of disbelief. “Does it?”