#taevorian

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The Ves'enthe Family

Led by the benevolent Blood Queen, Indira, the Ves'enthe family rules the vampiric kingdom of Siaraia.

By the queen's side is king consort, Demitrius, and their crown princess, Taevorian.

The line of succession follows with princes Eridian, Dorian, and young Tristian.

Thank you to all CC & pose creators! Before/after:

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Show me your teeth

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Her Royal Highness, Taevorian Ves'enthe

Thank you to all CC creators! Before/after:

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Thank you to all CC creators! Scene by @slfjcreative! (edited slightly for my needs) Raw/before and full-size edit under the cut~

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Taevorian Vitrommi Gatekeeper, Dealmaker, Collector

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I am the God and the Devil around you I am the Hell and the Heaven you crave I am the moon and the sun that you bask in I am the name written on your grave

Thank you to all CC creators! Scene by @teresafunfun (with minor edits) Raw & uncropped edit under the cut~

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🎶

Thank you to all CC creators! Scene by @slfjcreative! (edited slightly for my needs) Raw/before and full-size edit under the cut~

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I can take away your breath Or I can bring you back to life

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tagged by @machinegrl <3! thank you so much for the tag!

Share a random line of text from your current WIP or a line or two of dialogue from one of your characters. Do not give any explanation or context, and see what your followers think. Then, tag a few friends to keep the randomness going!

im tagging: @morrigan-sims, @simlishpiadina @simsonnet, @v4mpirec4t, @cryptidswitch, @buttertrait. @druidberries, @angelgnomesims and anyone else who wants to do this! (& if I tagged you and you don't want to that's okay!)

This is such a cool tag omg!

I'm still working on the actual writing for my sims story, so instead I'll give yall some excerpts from RPG topics featuring characters of mine from some of my renders (:

I could NOT choose just one line so have actual excerpts. They're a bit long so I tucked them under the cut!

Instead she focused on his admission, on how warm his hands felt and the way her skin tingled beneath his touch. Ariss didn’t struggle against him, didn’t utter a single protest as he slung one thigh over his shoulder. Then the other. There was no jolt of panic, no spike of fear.  Only euphoria to rival any drug, and the briefest, haziest glimpse of [redacted] between her parted knees, dappled in light through stained glass, his raven hair ringed in a spiked obsidian halo, his shoulders crowned in wings as dark as night. Then a rapturous sigh as her head tipped back, dangling off the altar into the mouth of oblivion with reckless abandon this time. What did she have to fear? Nothing here, nothing now, not in this ritual, the only one she’d ever need. Not while in the hands of the only god she’d ever recognize. And in the safety of his sanctum, Ariss sang for him. Sighs and moans spilled from parted lips like hymns. Trembling fingers raked and tugged through dark hair, stopping only when he paused to speak, his words punctuated by whining whimpers and furrowed brows as she struggled to hear what he was saying, to give it the proper weight, but it was impossible when each word sent a rush of hot breath against slick skin.

Excerpt from Vignettes, 2023 ~ Ariss

The final sin was murder. That of wife against husband. A severing of a holy bond. A stake shoved through a black-beating heart. A pact between light and dark.  Omniaudient ears heard the screams beneath the mountain, even from the depths of [redacted]’s sprawling, golden palace. Like a bride to the altar, her steps were measured, calm. Bare feet padded over shining marble, billowing silk trailing behind like tears. Blue-tipped wings dipped in mourning. Gold ichor dripped from raised, celestial blue eyes, falling from her cheeks, dripping down her robes. Into the open sky she stared, looking for a sign. Any sign. Before she took it all.  But there was nothing above but wisps of clouds. She was above. She was divine.  She must punish the weak.  Slender hands raised, palms pressing together as if to pray. But Calista did not pray. Mortals prayed to her. A deep inhale signaled the end. Bony shoulders lifted, slender fingers curving into claws as her hands parted. Between them a rift formed, birthed from all that was unholy in this world. Birthed from sin. It cracked the marble beneath her feet, it tore through the fabric of space and time, it ate away the very last protective ward in place.  With nothing left to suspend it, the majestic paradise the angeli called [redacted] fell.  As it dropped, Calista rose. Mighty wingbeats took her higher, higher, high as god herself before she paused, suspended, starry eyes lowering to watch the collapse in real time, her painted blue lips curving into a smile at its undeniable beauty.

Excerpt from The Undone & the Divine, 2022 ~ Calista

The ties that bound Taevorian to the waking world had long since been severed. Year by year she’d forgotten their faces, their names, their roles in her privileged life. All but one. All but hers. The rest fell away until some memory prodded them back into her existence. Where once she would have trained alongside her mother to become the next Blood Queen, now she lorded over the first of the Nine, watching with curious eyes as fresh souls slipped through the Styx to their designated realms.  Most were unremarkable. Most she let float by. But there were a few Taevorian chose to keep. A few exceptions that caught her eye.  Time was a stranger here. Day, night, it all looked the same. A red wasteland, the river cutting through it like a wound. On its banks she now stood, her black-cloaked, red-lit figure towering high above its shore, her skeletal, many-eyed visage lifting in time to catch what she would have called a falling star in her previous life. Its descent was accompanied by a wailing scream she might have imagined, different from those of the souls who woke early in the river, disoriented and lost as they floated against the current, deeper and deeper into Venatham.  The star, no, it wasn’t a star. The soul crashing into the shallow end of the Styx sent shockwaves through [redacted], rattling the false fronts of the Whightwharf, shaking the closest watchtowers. The gatekeeper’s skeletal mouth clicked and clacked into a smirk, ignoring the fiend-sentinels’ surprised shouts as the soul sloshed upriver. It bumped against the staff of Taevorian’s scythe, dipped gently in the wound of the Styx to stop its descent.  Bending at her hollow waist to inspect it, her head clicked to one side, all ten eyes blinking in sequence. One of four skeletal, clawed hands reached down, gently scooping the soul from the river and laying it on the bank. This one was destined for [redacted], but no longer. There was a familiarity in his now-faint face, a mirror in his glazed red eyes she saw herself in. Or, a version of herself. The one the queen had murdered.  “Wake,” Taevorian commanded in a voice edged in a thousand screams, nudging the soul with the staff of her scythe, her skeletal beak blowing dry red air into its face. He would awaken dazed and disoriented, and she would wait. Wait until the confusion in his eyes morphed into something else. Perhaps fear. Perhaps acceptance. Regardless, once the former prince came to, Taevorian’s skeletal mouth would click into a wicked grin. “Hello, brother.”

Excerpt from Devil's Hands, 2022 ~ Taevorian

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bigger than my body colder than this home meaner than my demons bigger than these bones

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The Devil's Hands Have Been Busy

Monarch Madness (5/?)

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Oh, You're gonna lose your soul You're gonna lose your soul tonight, tonight~