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Give ♥ this ♥ to the ♥ twelve♥ nicest ♥ people ♥ you ♥ know ♥ if ♥ you ♥ get ♥ five ♥ back ♥ you ♥ must ♥ be ♥ perfect ♥

AAAAWWWW

I love you Amanda!

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Druxy - Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside. Spartacus! :x

Send a word & a character/series/pairing & I will write a drabble:

Her taste is bitter, ash and grit coating his tongue as he pulls away and tries again to catch his breath. It has been months filled with weeks of nights like this; alone and gold again in thought only. The image of her awash in paint and sweat, then blood. He was gone by then, removed from the altar of her demise by force. He can still feel her heartbeat flutter and fade under his fingertips as he imagines what it would have been like to see her bathed in blood, as red as she was golden. He wakes up now, with a mind turned more toward that vile creature than his own wife, or the man who ripped his wife from his arms. The vile woman is the serpent on his chest, the poison in his heart, and he is dying inside from her; they are both nothing of what they seem.

It’s the sun rising and setting, skin covered in dust and muscles sore from training, before he once again finds himself laying alone, craving and fighting sleep in equal measure. Restless. He dreams of her again; hates himself for it. But, dreams are outside the realm of his control, outside the domain of the Bringer of Rain. He licks her lips, bites her skin, and loves the taste until his eyes open. He is lost to her.

The pale light of the forest brings her to him again, and with it a chance to cut himself down to the essential, Gannicus offers more than he knows and throws her to him with a smile. He can’t do it, fingers around her throat for the second time, her life flowing through streams that should have been dried up in countless attempts before his. The confession doesn’t surprise him as much as it cripples him, and he hates what he doesn’t see in her eyes. A lie.

He almost allows the problem to be washed from his hands, watches for a moment with idle curiosity to see how far the other woman will go in his defense. In the end, the result is the same, he saves her and doesn’t truly believe it’s his child that causes him to make that move. She is part of him, and that is why he releases her back into the wild. As he stands alone, there is not a person who knows him enough to truly love him, and there isn’t a person in the world that loves her as much as he does. For he sees who she is, knows her kind, they are of the same breed. A temporary blight in someone else’s story, the hero’s wretched villain, a solitary lost soul. He remembers her bitter taste, her beauty, and for a moment there is another life behind his closed eyes where something was made before it could rot, a moment lost to the spear in his side and the end of a long story.