DESTROYER.

THANE || “…I have the power to burn like a flame, to enter all experience fearlessly, decadence, amorality, or death.”

[rpicongallery]

90 Josh Holloway Icons from Lost

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[mandymilkxvich-blog]

↳ 652 icons of Josh Holloway as SAWYER in LOST, can be found under the cut. None of the following icons belong to me, so full credit to those who made them.

Like or reblog if you use, please. 

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[tonyredgrave]

Below the cut are 320 small, HQ, and textless gifs of Josh Holloway. All of these are from his role as James “Sawyer” Ford in Lost or interviews from that time period, meaning that he has long hair in all of these. While I cropped a lot of these and resized some, I made none of the following gifs – all credit goes to their original makes. Please like/reblog if you found this helpful.

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[lost-caps]

[terraxsave]

                                            Dying ain’t so bad                                     Not if you вσтн go together                                   O n l y when one’s left behind                                              Does it get sad

                                                ——— ♔ ———

[thcne]

Date: December 25, 2179 Location: Level Beta; Mess Hall Status: Closed, for @ravenayres

The leap of faith was the only card remaining in his hand, and so it would be foolish to not use it. It had never been an option to waste here, in what would surely be his coffin should he hold his cards to his chest and neglect to play them and play them well; even if it was a complete waste, he had questions that needed answering, memories that need be either buried or held alive and aloft like a great torch. He thought of Raven more than he should have, and could only wonder at what had become of her. He liked to think that she had survived; Raven had always struck him as the sort to survive anything, like a rock immovable by a tempest-stream. To see her again, to relish in the ease of her presence once more, would be a blessing more than he deserved; there were very few in the world that he would play his final card to see again, and he was selfish enough to do just that. 

The nearest thing to a dear friend he’d ever had, or certainly ever would. He cared for her deeply - and oddly enough, it was not a difficult feeling to understand, to come to terms with. They were made of the same stuff; understanding had always hung between them like lights. 

He had formulated a plan which would set him upon a path toward her with total certainty; it would be at his own detriment, to be sure, but it would be worth it to see her with his own eyes - should his optimism prove true. Optimism which, oddly enough, came about with a sure feeling that she was here somewhere. Should he arrive at his destination and find the place bereft of her presence, then -- 

Thane shook his head, forcing the thought to dissolve from the forefront of his consciousness only to be replaced with unnerving, obsessive resolve. He sat like a stone-statue man, at the foot of his bed, with feet flat upon the concrete and palms still upon his thighs. It was like clockwork, this plan; he had but moments to force uncertainty from his mind and replace it with the unfettered desire to at least try to see her again.  He thought not of his Raven now with humor, with ease, but with fire - should he find that she had been felled in the struggle, the name of the being who’d done the deed would take a well deserved place at the top of a rather exclusive list. 

He stood suddenly, for he could hear a familiar set of footsteps just outside his door. Quickly, deftly, he slipped to the small window at the top of the door, through which he could see the hall, peering out at the guard who made his rounds every day at this particular time. Thane took a deep breath, revulsion and adrenaline building at the tip of his tongue, and spoke in a low, growling hiss, a practiced line set to spark an easily-set fuse. “Did you tell your wife I’ve been thinkin’ of her, like I asked? ” his voice was steeled with preparedness, “She’s got no gag reflex when I imagine her.” 

And that did it. The guard he had been antagonizing for weeks was sure to react immediately, and he did not disappoint. He was through the open door in moments, and was upon Thane even faster - and for once, he simply took it. His pride would not allow him to go down without a square punch or two (though he was unquestionably the loser of the fight), fodder for the broken dam of repressed hatred which was now compounded upon his face, his ribs, his stomach. He felt his nose break first - the rest was secondary. 

It meant success, however, for once the guard had been pulled from him, Thane was hoisted onto two separate sets of shoulders and dragged out into the hall, toward his intended destination - the medical bay. Were Raven anywhere, she would be there. All he could do was allow himself to be dragged in a dazed, bleeding, prideful stupor, for his final card had been played. 

[thcne]

Date: January 17, 2179 Location: Level Beta; Mess Hall  Status: Closed, for @pyrecoren

The reviled emotion, that which he so rarely felt and so rarely deigned to give a name to, reared its head at the sight of him, though Thane took great pains to stifle it like a rogue candle. It twisted, prodded, poked between his ribs, reminding him of the last time he’d come directly face-to-face with the man which now occupied the space across the opposite wall, for it had not been a pleasant interaction in the slightest. He felt a great deal more hollow than he had when last he saw the soldier - though hollow space leaves much room for flame - and it was without a doubt because of the very woman who’d incited such dislike in Thane in the first place. Unwarranted, of course; he still understood not his immediate attachment to the young scavenger, like a child with a particularly important trinket which warranted selfish protection. But now, with her cries and tears still echoing within his hollow skull, he wished he had realized much sooner that common goal was greater than, or equal to, the different breeds of unfettered affection. 

Guilt was what it was called. It tasted of bile. Thane swallowed. 

He began across the room with shoulders hunched, diminishing his size despite his inclination to do the opposite. Never before had he been so moved by guilt; the sight of Eretreia, from the other side of soundproof one-way glass, was enough to make him feel as if it might be a worthy inhabitant of his steel bones. It should have been him - perhaps it still could be. But now, guilt riled and rioted within him, demanding to be sated as a hungry animal, and so he moved toward Pyre with tongue bitten and fangs detached; they were both caged beasts here, and now that Thane had escaped the solitude of the higher level (but at too high a cost), it would behoove him to think of stragetem and alliance. There was nothing here for him to make use of, in a daring escape; he could hardly burn Eretreia free from her confinement - nor the others, if they lived - with a mop and a tray full of prison food. 

Thane came to a rather unceremonious stop before Pyre, eyes hard as they remained trained upon the younger man’s face. There was no appropriate way to reunite happily with a man whose death and limb he had threatened on numerous occasions; they surely would not embrace as he and Eretreia had, and he felt no need to smash a glass above his head, as he had in their last encounter. This was, perhaps, best handled as one soldier to another, for although Thane knew not of military rank and procedure, they were one in the same under the employ of the Benefactor - and even more so when wearing the same prison colors.

Daring to raise the ire of the guards - for most often, it was looked down upon to reach out in a way more than that of hushed and unobtrusive speech - Thane held out a hand, meant to be shaken. It was as affectionate as he would ever be, surely, with Pyre - and would surely never happen again. He held out his hand, fingers bruised, bent, and still, and spoke. 

“Damn glad that you aren’t dead.”

[thcne]

Date: January 28, 2179 Location: Level Alpha  Status: Closed, for @kalliawexler

The way to freedom was open and clear - one blast of shrapnel and hot air stood between him and the soiled air just outside the prison walls, and yet he found himself moving haphazardly deeper though the halls of Level Alpha, an immovable ship forging a chaotic sea of bodies. The call of freedom sang in his blood, as it had so many times before, and yet he found himself quieting the insistent voice and those who called for him aloud, from adjacent hallways. In another life, he might have been the first to disappear into the open air just meters away, but in another life he had not such a persistent voice ringing deep within his bones, telling him to look harder. It was this which pulled him away from the fray, from the chaos which had broken out in the name of pure freedom, and sent him spiraling through the dark, past blaring sirens and flashing red lights into the bowels of the level in which he’d been kept. For his curiosity need be sated; questions need be answered; the weakest shred of optimism that lived in the dark, very human space between his third and fourth rib need be satisfied. 

To see his dreams, so constant and haunting, either fall prey to reality, or come to glorious fruition - this was worth the danger of setting escape to the side. Thane would die before neglecting to come back for her - even if he was coming back for no more than a body. 

Were that the case, he would carry her out through hell and fire. This was his silent promise. 

The urge to find her sang like a live wire in his spine, for he had to know. Level Alpha had turned a battlefield, condensed into the narrow alley of cells which had been his home for far too long. He forged the crowd, barreling bodies over, to the side, hurdling toward the set of double doors at the end of the hall which never seemed to open; they were the only set of doors that had not given way to escaped inmates and murderous guards, who seemed to have no issue cutting down inmates at random - though it was sure that his own allies could hold their own. They had, after all, been the ones to spring him from his coffin and set him loose upon the prison, like a flare falling upon a bed of coals. He burned through the halls, toward the answer to his most burning question, and could only hope that the inhabitant of his most secret dreams would not fizzle and disappear into smoke and ash on the other side of the door before him. 

Just as he reached the door, a firm hand reached forth to grab him by the arm, taking him by surprise and throwing him off-balance; he cried out, cursing, as he stumbled backwards, wheeling to face the guard with electrical baton raised and poised to strike. Baring his teeth, Thane hunched his shoulders, leaning into the fall and lunging forward, catching the guard about the chest and pinning him backwards against the wall. The baton dropped from his grip as the wind was knocked from him, head smacking with a sickening thud and crack against the concrete, just below an alarm-flash of red light. Chest heaving with breath, with adrenaline, with malice, Thane stooped to retrieve the baton as the guard slid to the floor, unconscious and useless - it was mercy that his neck remained unbroken in his sleep. With weapon in hand, Thane turned once more to the imposing double doors, intent upon letting nothing stop him now. 

A great, hulking monster of a man, beastly and wild, covered in dirt, grime, sweat, and the dried blood of long-passed torture, he burst through the doors and into a room empty of all but one enormous monument in the very center. He skidded to a halt just within, shoulders and chest heaving, knuckles white upon the baton, with eyes wheeling wildly for she which he sought. The cage before him was looming, with gleaming bars, an enormous birdcage which, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized was inhabited by -- 

“Kallia.” 

Voice ragged, breaking, a blaring bark, and she his murderous dream-bird inside a cage in which she did not belong; Thane stumbled forth, baton slipping from his fingers, and fell against the bars of the cage as his eyes truly began to believe that she was here, she was alive, and that his dreams had all been for purpose - and that madness at her behest would not come from dreams, but from reality. 

[thcne]

Date: December 3, 2179 Location: Outside the Holding Cells Status: Closed, for @ervtreia

And so flame becomes shadow. He walked at her side as if he might never leave it, as if he might wake from a terribly kind dream should he move even slightly to the right. With each few steps, his hand raised with absent fervor to touch the back of her arm, for he had quite a hard time believing that she was real at all - he had thought her dead, and her appearance at the door of his cell to be a mirage, and so it was all he could do to ensure that yet another dream had not once again dragged him beneath the black waters of cruel optimism. He knew not where they were going, nor what they would do when they arrived at their destination; he, in all his strength and grandeur, was delirious in his shock, both built and destroyed in one by the appearance of a dream before his very eyes. 

He had said very little since they had reunited, letting silence speak in tongues they could not understand. Thane could still feel the ever-softness of her curls between his fingers, the lingering smell of the crook of her neck, after which he had swept her upwards, clinging to her like a raggedy-doll made to be clung to. He had barreled to her, swept her up, lifting her feet from the concrete and nearly collapsing himself; he’d never been able to touch her in his dreams before, to hold her close, to feel the firmness of her bones and the thrash of her heart. She had never been more real - his shriveled heart had never been fuller. Each inhale, with face pressed to sweat-sticking skin, had sounded more akin to a desperate, ragged gasp for oxygen after a long while underwater - and perhaps it was. 

He had nearly barreled her over, clinging her to his chest with little reservation and little shame. The cell filled with warmth, then, that he would never forget - nor that he would take for granted. Thane gave a silent thank-you to the dark ceiling above, to whichever deity had plucked her from his dreams and placed her here. Alive. It was all he needed.

And so it had felt like sacrilege to be anywhere but at her side now, ensuring that while he was with her nothing could touch. Though their current predicament was more a testament to their mortality than anything ever could be, or ever had been, Thane had never felt more aflame - he could burn the place to the ground should she see the sky at his behest. Here, as her shadow, her protector, the mountain beside which she could find blessed shade, he felt no fear at who might discover him out of his cell, out in the open air - as open as this air could be - for the first time in as many days as had blurred into one great expanse of time. As he glanced down to her, to the curls, the alert eyes, the lithe hands, he could feel time once more.

And he had said nothing - it would have been far unlike him to admit that an unbidden prickling had arisen behind his eyes at the sight of her, or that he’d dreamed of her beneath the stars again. She was here now - it could do with going unspoken. As they walked, through the narrow corridors lined with cell doors, he found himself glancing down to her, checking to ensure that she had not disappeared from his side. But she didn’t - and she wouldn’t. 

The spell of blessed silence was broken, however, in a barrage of sound and fury - the door at the end of the hall slid open with a metallic screeching, revealing a pair of guards. Thane’s hand rose once more, bruised and dirtied fingers wrapping about her upper arm. “Careful -” he spoke, voice crackling and rough from underuse, “They won’t touch you.” But he knew this. She was as feral as he. But they wore it like matching armor, colors flying and fire blazing. He liked to think them made of the same star - perhaps this was their rebirth. 

[thcne]

➳ if the benefactor stood before you, with eretreia and kallia both in danger, and offered you the chance to spare the life of only one, who would it be?

He had never been a tactical man - the idea of the ‘point-and-shoot’ had always appealed in tandem with his particular skill set, as it left little room for error. Once, many lifetimes ago, he’d attempted to learn the game of chess, and after losing three consecutive times to the very same man, he’d broken the board and the man’s arm in one fell swoop, vowing that chess was a useless skill, a meaningless game, and that tactical maneuvers were best left to those who did not know how to topple a building with the press of a button or two. 

And now quite suddenly Thane wished he had watched his bishop a little closer. 

It surprised him, then, how quickly he thought that he might die first; he’d ‘died’ and resurrected once before - could they not make him metal once the ordeal was over? But this was a tactical question, surely. A test of knowledge, will, and strategy; the question itself, though it set his teeth to clenching and his fingernails to digging acutely into his palms, had a wrong, a right, and a smart answer. He could talk himself out of this one - the Eretreia and the Kallia who lived now only in his mind could survive this yet. 

In his mind - it was cruel that the question tainted what he had of them now. 

Thane thought for a moment, his eyes locked upon his lap, and then spoke: “I would have the Benefactor spare Eretreia,” he began, “if only because I know beyond a shadow a doubt that Kallia would survive whatever danger is being thrown at her. Hell, even I’m goddamn scared of her.” Was scared of her, he supposed. Of course, they’d all been taken down and ended up here - perhaps his bluff, his bravado, was unfounded. “That isn’t to say Eretreia couldn’t flatten whatever fucking ‘danger’ you want to threaten, but -” it was a horrible question; he’d save them both, and it had to be painfully obvious that this was truth, “- the Benefactor could spare one and the other would still survive, so your stupid fucking question is moot. It doesn’t matter who I’d spare. They’d both live no matter my choice.” 

He believed. He hoped. He wished. Thane had seen neither but only in his dreams of late. They always survived there.

But this was very much not a dream.

[thcne]

➳ when u gon bone kallia tho

In his dreams, she wears less armor. The light falls upon her in thick bars, as if she has ghosted into his cell in the dead of night, guided to him only by the light of the moon and by the sound of heart-pieces thumping wearily with underuse. In his dreams, she slips onto his cot, with raven locks hanging in a thick curtain above him, her light weight upon his hips as she climbs astride; though her hair blocks the light of the moon from his waking eyes, he looks not but up into the face he has so longed to see, so longed to touch. In his dreams, she is terribly alive, as she always had been; warm and electric, the very current which rocked his spine in secret, and lit his bones aflame. In his dreams, he sees her, feels her, breathes her like the very oxygen which is so stifled in his cell - as she climbs into his threadbare bed, he raises calloused and bruised hands to settle atop her hips, holding her steady as her lithe and practiced fingers ghost through his hair. Over his brow, down the slope of his nose, his jaw, his neck they travel, sending with them chills and naught-forgotten memories and possibility. In his dreams, his breath is not belabored, but heavy with life and desire. In his dreams, he is more awake than he has ever been, for as her lips fall to meet his, thoroughly blocking his vision from the world about them, he is healed, created, reborn, enlivened all at once. Fire sparks within his chest, burning him down and building him of ash again, for she is alive, she is here, and she is his to hold - and no goddamn prison guards will pry her from him. Beads of sweat form upon his brow, and hers - though can she sweat? He tears the fabric from her back, and yet the chill of the cell reaches them not; there is flame between them which cannot be extinguished, no matter how far from him she may be. 

Reality is much colder. He wakes to find nothing above him but dark air - and for a moment, he imagines a circuit board going dark. It is cold in his cell, for the blanket atop him - no more than a swath of fabric the size of his chest - has fallen to the floor. Thane jolts upward, hand flying to press against the stone wall, and wishes unabashedly that it were something much warmer. His gaze swivels to the door; perhaps this is still a dream, perhaps she will appear and warm him as she has done in the restless night with such consistency since he has been locked away. She was so alive - both in his past and in his dreams. But now he fears that perhaps she lives now only there, in the hollow bastion of his skull. But she lives there with great fervor, as she always did; perhaps it should be enough. 

“Only in my fuckin’ dreams -” he hisses, voice echoing cold, alone, and unusually small, “Only in my fuckin’ dreams.”

[joshholloway-source]

[nobodynothin-deactivated2016070]

Send me a ➳ + a question for my muse’s answer!

[museinspo]

nobodynothin:

Go ahead, ask my muse anything for an honest answer.

[thcne]

astrology ask thing

aries: what are you passionate about?taurus: name 3 of your favorite books.

gemini: what was the last text you sent?

cancer: if you could choose your child's zodiac sign, what would it be?

leo: name something you love about yourself.

virgo: what's your #1 pet peeve?

libra: describe your dream partner.

scorpio: do you trust easily?

sagittarius: if you could travel to any place in the world, where would it be?

capricorn: what's your dream job?

aquarius: do you believe in aliens?

pisces: describe someone you love.

sun: describe yourself in 3 words.

moon: what's your favorite song?

rising/asc: how would you describe your style?

mars: are you easily angered?

venus: what's your aesthetic?

mercury: what color do you talk in?

jupiter: what moral do you live by?

saturn: what's your biggest fear?

uranus: are you rebellious?

neptune: share one of your dreams.

pluto: what's the biggest thing you've learned by far in your life?

lilith: do you have any guilty pleasures?

chiron: have you ever broken a bone?

ceres: are you a momfriend?

pallas: do you have a good relationship with your parents?

juno: do you believe in soul mates?

1st house: are you confident?

2nd house: if you could only keep one of your personal items, what would you choose?

3rd house: do you like to read?

4th house: what does your bedroom look like?

5th house: name your favorite movie or show.

6th house: do you participate in community service?

7th house: if you could choose, what zodiac sign would you like your dream partner to be?

8th house: do you believe in reincarnation?

9th house: what's your favorite quote?

10th house: are you good at public speaking?

11th house: what sign(s) is your best friend/squad?

12th house: do you like to be alone?

[thcne]

starter call !! if you want space pirate thane, please like this because i have a horrible memory <3

[undynememes-blog]

CHARACTER FLAWS MEME.

[thcne]

undynememes:

bold flaws your character has / italicise ones they used to have, or have partially. feel free to add more.

absent-minded / abusive / addicted / aimless / alcoholic / aloof / anxious / arrogant / audacious / has bad habits / bigmouthed / bigoted / blunt / bold / callous / childish / cruel / cursed / dependent / dishonest / disloyal / disturbed / dubious / egotistical / envious / erratic / fanatical / fickle / fierce / finicky / flirty / gluttonous / gruff / gullible / hedonistic / humourless / hypocritical / idiotic / ignorant / illiterate / immature / impatient / impious / impish / incompetent / indecisive / indifferent / infamous / intolerant / judgemental / lazy / lewd / liar / lustful / masochistic / meddlesome / meek / megalomanic / naïve / nosey / obsessive / oppressive / overambitious / overemotional / overprotective / overzealous / paranoid / peevish / perfectionist / pessimistic / phobic / rebellious / reckless / remorseless / rigorous / sadistic / sarcastic / sceptic / seducer / selfish / self-martyr / self-righteous / senile / shallow / smart ass / solemn / spineless / spiteful / spoiled / squeamish / stubborn / superstitious / tactless / temperamental / theatrical / timid / tongue-tied / unlucky / unpredictable / untrustworthy / vain / weak-willed / withdrawn

[tragedysins]