#who was adopted by a fae of the night and blessed to have hair as silver as the moon

[riddlerosehearts]

this is an excellent addition that should not be left in the tags

this extremely heartwrenching angst silver is going through in which he decides that he's an enemy to the people who love him and that the best thing he can do is to forever stay alone in the darkness so he won't have to face them anymore since obviously they must hate him is causing me so much emotional distress and i guess i deserve it for having made this edit and joking about these two being twins way back when i first got into twst

[anekogia]

Timeline of the war till when Lilia finds Silver (Spoliers from chapter 7)

This is based on most of the game's dialogue and scenes that played out. Might not be 100% accurate.

There was conflict/war between Briar Country (Land of Faes) and the Land of Sword (Human kingdom) because the Land of Swords were illegally gathering resources from Briar Country and destroying their lands.

While out scouting, Lilia and his men recieved news that King Henrich, King of the Land of Sword, is laying seige on Nobara Castle, where Princess Maleanor is currently living in and is taking care of her unhatched egg.

They quickly made their way there to warn the princess, where they King Henrich challenges Maleanor to a duel against his best warrior, the Knight of Dawn.

Lilia, Baul and their troops manage to make their way and warn Maleanor about the seige, but the princess tasks Lilia to look after her egg and escape Nobara Castle.

Maleanor makes her way out of her castle, where she battles against the Knight of Dawn and his men. The princess gains the upper hand, and buries the Knight into the ground.

The Knight of Dawn falls into a secret passage that Lilia and his men are using. It was then revealed that the Knight of Dawn is against fighting the fae and gave Lilia and his troops safe passage so that they can escape with Maleanor's egg.

Ultimately, Lilia manages to escape safely with the egg. However, Maleanor overblots and is slain by the Knight of Dawn..Nobara Castle is then taken over by the royals of the Land of Sword.

Some time after, King Henrich dies (good), and his younger sister, Princess Leah, becomes queen. She and the Knight of Dawn also marry and had a child.

However, the conflict between their kingdom and the fae is still happening, and the Knight of Dawn is killed during one of their battles.

Knowing that there is no hope for her kingdom, Queen Leah left her son to be protected by the three fairies in Nobara Castle.

Queen Leah dies soon afterwards. In an effort to save the young prince, the fairies cast a spell on him so that he would be placed under an eternal slumber until the war is over, and until somebody who could love him finds him.

About 200 to 300 years after the war, Prince Malleus is born, much to the delight of the fae kingdom now known as Briar Valley/Valley of Thorns.

More than 100 years after that, Lilia is visiting the ruins of Nobara Castle, where he hears something coming out from the castle. He finds a baby in the throne room and quickly realizes he is the child of the Knight of Dawn (from his hair colour and his necklace).

Having not forgotten what the Knight of Dawn did for him, Lilia adopts the child and gives him the "blessing of the night", resulting in the baby's hair colour changing from gold to silver.

Lilia names the child Silver and started raising him in a cottage in the woods. Malleus drops by time after time, thinking that Silver was just some orphan Lilia found in the woods.

Notes: I wouldn't be surprised if the Knight of Dawn's name is "Stefan/Stephan" since Silver's mom's name is Leah, which is also the name of Aurora's mother in Sleeping Beauty.

Also, knowing that Malleus is probably watching over everyone's dreams, I am 100% sure that this is how he is going to find out about Silver's true heritage. And he is not going to be happy.

[mikenewtonhateblog]

My oc’s aka too long of a gd post

The “BL” Crew (does not stand for boys love I’m just a moron who made that abbreviation before knowing what it stands for). My main crew and main series, a lot is a big WIP right now as I’m slowly redoing the first book and all the lore. Why? I love torture. Book is fantasy type but I won’t specify what.

Lacie, the protagonist. God tier idiot, bisexual bipolar depressed MESS, insomniac, former theater kid, doesn’t know what she wants out of life but currently it is not This(plot of book). Hot headed, impulsive, crude, rude, Mommy IssuesTM, would rather be taking a nap right now, rules are made to be broken, absolutely fucking FERAL, more bags under her eyes than the airport lost and found. 5’5, 130lbs, Aries, age 18, white as shit like literally the whitest human you have ever seen, strawberry blonde hair in a 2011 Hayley Willaims haircut with long bangs, the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen that stare directly into your soul. Lanky, no curves, body of a 12 year old boy but works out so she can and will kick your ass and thats a threat. Not human?

Josh. Soft boy, smart, Lacie’s cousin and only friend for like the first 18 years of her life, autistic anxious mess who’s special interest is anchient egyptian history, is in honors classes, despises math, passes out when his girlfriend looks too cute, just needs a hug. Can eat a whole carton of easy mac if left alone, whole wardobe is the same outfit just different colors/hoodies, sensory issues, seriously can someone give this guy a hug. 5’9, 150lbs, Pisces, age 18, mixed (half whatever flavor of white Lacie’s family is [they don’t even know its just some scandanavian shit and irish], and half mexican on his mom’s side), medium olive skin with freckles and moles, dark chocolate brown hair that’s a bit of a 2009 Beiber cut, warm brown eyes, not beefy, a lil thicc and self concious about it but squishy boys are GOOD. Gets bit by a werewolf so now he is one his mood on it is “thats a lot to unpack but let’s just throw the whole suitcase away”.

Zander. There is not one braincell in this man, himbo KING, pansexual dumbass with undiagnosed ADHD, no impulse control, head empty and full at the same time, PTSD, his fashion sense should be an actual crime, gets in fights to feel something, basic requirements for him to be attracted to you: kick his ass. Drinks his respect women juice, sees a folding table and must immediately launch himself on it, chaotic, cannot drive a car and will not, food aggression and eats enough for 3 people but never gains weight which is ILLEGAL, him and Lacie may be a couple.....but in this house we stan slow burn, he talks in caps and every sentence either ends with a question mark or exclaimation point, likes romcoms. 6’2, 190lbs, Sagittarius, age 19, austrailian roots and has the accent but is from [REDACTED FOR STORY REASONS], white, dorito shaped with long legs, blueish black hair that’s long and messy, dark navy eyes that match his hair, bigass neck scar from [REDACTED]. Not human

Peter. Gay dad friend who is TIRED of having to be in charge of a bunch of teenagers, only one with full functioning braincells, lowkey a genius who loves engineering, mixes magical technology with human technology because he likes to play god, is he ever sober? No one knows, will kill for a bottle of single malt, his fashion sense? Tastefully expensive suits perfectly tailored. Likes building his own weapons that no one else knows how to even use, generally non-threatening but can get scary if needed. 6’4, 140lbs string bean man, Scorpio, age 179 but looks early 30s, I know I said Lacie is the whitest human but he’s even paler like a literal sheet of paper with scandanavian roots/ancestors were vikings or some shit, blonde hair styled like 2013 Brendon Urie lmfao, light crystal blue eyes. He’s a vampire and was born one.

Danielle. Tiny, sweet, queen of girls supporting girls, comments on all her friends instagram posts with 20 emojis, LOVES fashion and has a wardrobe that would make anyone jealous, oozes feminine energy, only child and parents are in love still, gets exactly 8 hours of sleep each night and wakes up looking like a disney princess. Just because she is small and cute doesn’t mean you should underestimate her she WILL fuck your shit up. Quiet when angey which is terrifying. Josh is her bf and she loves him so much but also loves teashing the shit out of him. Legally cannot cuss, polite, used her high heels as a weapon once, speaks like 5 languages because studying them is her hobby, gardens, hugs everyone. 5’0, 110, Taurus, age 18, mixed (half french-american, half Korean-american), glowy skin always, PETITE frame aka the friend everyone can pick up when they hug, long past her waist curly brown hair, bright green eyes. She’s not fully human as she has fae blood in her and this gives her the ability to talk to and control plants. Flower crowns for everyone

Becca. Theater kid who would die to sing in Wicked and has the vocal range to do so, cannot wait to graduate and go to her dream college which she got into and a scholarship, closeted lesbian bc her whole giant family is extremely catholic and she feels like not dealing with it, “no boys allowed in bedroom” rule is her favorite joke, chill, middle child of 5 siblings and just wants some peace and quiet for ONCE. Her fashion sense is “I’m dropping subtle hints I’m gay but only to other gays”, has a black belt and took self defense classes. 5’6, 145lbs, Virgo, age 18, Latina (cuban and mexican mix), darker brown skin with light freckles over her nose, athletic build, eyebrows on POINT, bright caramel eyes, short light brown hair cut in a bob, has a tiny nose stud, always wears a blue friendship bracelet her gf made her. Human

Anika. Calling her a bitch/slut is a compliment, bisexual, a bit of a mean girl but she grows out of it give her time!!! Is always Too Much, the horny friend, favorite color is red so thats almost all of her outfits, loves to show off her body as much as she can because she’s hot and knows it and thrives in her own confidence. Her mom is literally like Regina George’s mom from Mean Girls but married a rich man 20 years older than her, Anika doesn’t know her bio dad but thats fine neither does her mom and her step dad is nice and does his best to be a dad. Becca’s gf, always hanging out at her home so Becca can get some quiet because Anika’s an only child and has a pool. 5’9, 135lbs, Gemini, age 18, white, long layered dark reddish brown hair, teal-blue eyes, swimmers body type (I normally do not mention bust size but she would want the internet to know she was blessed with big bahoogles so there you go), can sprint in heels. Half mermaid (boy was that a surprise considering her mom doesn’t know who her father is LOL)

Rex. Nb uses they/them he/him pronouns but honestly will respond to any, goth lite, only attracted to men and ace, can read minds so knows all your secrets, mischevious little shit, great friends with Zander and enjoys his dumbass thoughts and that he’s basically a human version of Jackass, wears too many rings, goth boots for kicking and fashion babey, always has the freshest memes and will not hesitate to roast in the group chat, hangs with the girls most of the time. Chaos god who loves making art, be gay do crime, skateboard and spraypaint. 5’8”, 165lbs, Leo, age 18, Native American, masculine frame, dark brown skin, blue eyes, firetruck red shoulder length hair that’s usually in a ponytail, knock-off gucci sunglasses just for judging their friends. Has magic in their blood so not entirely human and can cast spells and shit (don’t roast me its a wip and I’m doing my research)

Sam. Boho goddess, aromantic, makeup and nails are always instagram worthy, quiet and stoic type but losens up around close friends, Rex is her best friend, has some trauma and doesn’t want to talk about it, emotionally numbed out a bit and wants to purely vibe. Has seen some of the worst parts of humanity and wishes she hadn’t, finds no point in being bitter or resentful though because that won’t change anything, loves cats and once she moves out shes adopting one or three. Has wine aunt energy. 5’4, 200lbs PLUS SIZE QUEEN, Scorpio, age 18, Filipino (her parents are immigrants fun fact!), really olive skin sometimes has a grey/green tinge to it, dark brown almost black shoulder length hair, gold-hazel eyes. Sam’s the victim of a family curse that requires her to consume human hearts to survive, she can transform into a pretty scary looking being and uses this curse to hunt down pedoph*les, r*pists, murderers, and abusers. The less often she feeds the less human she looks, hence the constant grey/green tinge to her skin. 

Andy. Baby of the group, must be protected at all costs, 100% didn’t sign up to be in a friendgroup of 90% monsters but highkey loves it, trans, bi, anxiety MAXED, just wants to draw comics and cosplay spiderman, has to babysit his two younger sisters a lot because his parents are....not great, and as a result now knows all the lines to Tangled and The Little Mermaid. Big nerd energy, has to draw on everything including homework, gets inspiration for comics from his friends, awkward and socially anxious, drinks way too much tea and will accidentally steal your pens. Fears include: crowds, thunder, tall angry men, tiny spaces. Just trying his best. 5’2, 100lbs BEANPOLE BOY, Leo, age 16, white (irish and scottish roots), freckles absolutely EVERYWHERE, orangey red hair thats in desperate need of a haircut, chocolate brown eyes, braces, chronic nail biter. Human and kinda wishes he wasn’t.

That’s it for now if you read all this bless u thank u here is my whole heart. Please no discourse, literally these are fictional people I’ll never publish the books they go to.

[friendlessanimeloverfal]

Chapters: 14/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Iida Tenya/Uraraka Ochako, Kaminari Denki/Sero Hanta, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya Additional Tags: Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fae folk, Wizards, Light Angst, Explicit Language Summary:

Kirishima Eijirou lives alone in the woods. Due to his flaming red hair, he’s been shunned and outcasted by countless villages. Red is a cursed color in this world, and he’s resigned himself to the fact that he’s going to live a lonely life with no one to share a home with. Then, on a chilly winter night, he finds a golden wolf on his doorstep, wounded and bleeding. He quickly patches him up, and ends up sleeping next to the wolf, grateful for the warmth. However, the next morning, he wakes up face to face, with a young man with golden hair and no clothes. And that’s how he meets Bakugo Katsuki, a werewolf with a surly attitude.

Soon Kirishima finds himself surrounded with both old and new friends, including his childhood friend Sero, a merchant; Denki, Sero's boyfriend; Yamada, Bakugo's adopted father, and Aizawa, Bakugo's other dad, since he can't depend on Yamada to keep the kid fed and watered. He also meets a certain half and half bastard, a broccoli head with a heart of gold, and a bright pink witch with a bubbly personality. It's a whirlwind of friends, first loves, and just the right amount of angst.

CHAPTERS 9, 10, 11, AND 12 ARE NOW OUT! 

Thank you to all who have kept reading this despite the long hiatus! I am so sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy the newest chapters! I love you all!

[dream-of-hydaelyn]

Interview: Seska Tayuun

► Name ➔ “Seska Tayuun! A pleasure to meet you.”

► Are you single ➔ “Nope! Although our relationship isn't monogamous in the least.”

► Are you happy ➔ “Most days, sure. Some are worse than others.”

► Are you angry? ➔ “I'm angry about a lot of things in my life, but I try not to let it eat me up.”

► Are your parents still married ➔ “Yes they are! Quite happily!”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “Near Silvertear lake, although I'm not one hundred percent certain”

► Hair Color ➔ “Violet.”

► Eye Color ➔ “Violet.”

► Birthday ➔ “Eleventh Sun of the first Umbral Moon.”

► Mood ➔ “Wistful.”

► Gender ➔ “Female.”

► Summer or winter ➔ “Summer hands down.”

► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Afternoon.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “Hopelessly so.”

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “That's called infatuation. Can infatuation turn into love? Absolutely. Is it the same? No.”

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “We were monogamous and he cheated on me. Instead of owning up to it like a man he vanished in the night back to the far east.”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “Yes. I don't want to get into it.”

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “Nope!”

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Yes.”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “Not that I'm aware of. I really only started getting noticed by people recently. Truth be told I was a bit of a dweeb growing up.”

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔“Yes.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Love.”

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Iced tea, extra sweet, with lavender and wildflowers.”

► Cats or Dogs ➔ “I’m not really a pet person in general but dogs are nice I guess. Cats are fine too. I like them both equally? Can I pick that?”

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “Many regular friends. I've never really had a 'best' friend.”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “A romantic night in.”

► Day or night ➔ “Night, I'm a keeper after all.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Again. I wasn't a particularly wild child growing up.”

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “No, I can’t say I ever have.”

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ "Yes. Again, not something I'm interested in sharing”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Yes...”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “Eyes, absolutely. A smile says so little.”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “I do gave a strong preference for people who tower over me and make me feel safe.”

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  “Attraction. You could be the smartest person in the world and still be unbearable to be around. What makes a person attractive to me is warmth, and charm.”

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationship for sure. Is it so bad that I want to settle down eventually?”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔  “Yeah! My family may have adopted me, but they've always gone out of their way to treat me no different than their children by blood. I'm truly blessed to have them in my life.”

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔“I...guess so? It all evens out eventually.”

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “I have, but it was no secret. My family knew and warned me against it. I probably should have listened but I wouldn't be where I am I'd I had.”

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Nope!”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Why would I be friends with someone I hate?”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Not really.”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Uh... Archie I guess but that's not fair is it, considering he's my boyfriend.”

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “Acheron, or as I call him, Archie.”

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Tagged by: @fair-fae

Tagging: @chxsingthemoon @thorcatte @lydha-lran @lunaexiv

[lettersandinkstains]

Hello hello! If you're still doing writing prompts: a blacksmith receives a curious request.

i am! thank you, @bookenders!i’m always taking prompts!

send me a prompt!

She had come around, with dirty hair and tattered clothes. He tries not to judge her on her appearance–not often do the very poor come seeking him out, only heroes, kings, and queens and gods come to him for his weaponry. All of them are blessed with the magic of dragons, the ones that once ruled the skies and lands.

“I do not have a lot,” she speaks to him, voice soft. “Not much, no. But I beg of you, this is important. I do not fight, so I don’t seek any weapons, but I hear so much very good things about you. Those who wield your metals, your silvers, they never get hurt. They all survive.”

“So what is it you want?” He doesn’t mean to sound impatient, but he has requests to work on yet. She is only taking up his time.

“A small medallion, in the shape of a heart.”

“And what for?”

The woman shakes her head. This is her secret to keep, he understands. The blacksmith was raised to not inquire about things people do not wish to share. Whatever lays locked inside of her, is her own to open one day.

“It will cost a lot,” He tells her, regretfully.

“I will pay what I can,” The woman promises.

He wants to tell her that they all need to eat, that he cannot just rely on whatever meager pay she has to offer. But yet, the small part of curiosity overcomes him, and he finally agrees to it.

Within seven suns and eight moons, the woman comes again. She’s just as dirty and haggard as before. He tells her he’s working on it, but he has a king’s sword to finish yet, for they come from a far land and offered him a hefty price.

Underneath her words of understanding, there is a quiet plea for him to hurry. He is curious, but a blacksmith never asks what urgency lays beyond his shop. That is not his business if they never wish to share–sometimes heroes and wanderers do, and they speak of horrors beyond the horizon, they talk about the adventures he would never have. And this woman offers no stories, offers very little payment, she is as silent as the night.

But she is gentle still, in her words, in her approach. There is hunger somewhere deep down inside of her, and he’s not quite sure it’s a food hunger. But there is something.

She visits every day now, bringing with her freshly baked bread or fresh milk. There are apologies for not being able to bring him gold much like heroes, kings, and gods. She has very little and an extra mouth to food–this is where he finds out about her daughter. This is where he learns her daughter is her entire world.

“But what of your husband? Surely he would have been able to make something!”

“No, no husband.” The woman shakes her head. “He is not here, he is not around.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,”

The woman does not answer.

One day, the woman does not come back. He works the metal, trying his best to forge it. Trying his best to make it look nice, as he is not an artist but a weapons maker. Perhaps today, she is busy and she will be back tomorrow.

Yet, she does not return the next day. Nor the following.

After two passing weeks, and a finished medallion, he goes home to tell his husband of this woman who had given him the request. He shows him the small, silver heart enscribed with such an old language he learned as a child.

“Perhaps she will be there tomorrow?” His husband suggests over a warm dinner, and fire softly crackling in the background.

The blacksmith wonders if that would truly be the case.

Many moons pass, and the leaves change colors on the trees–showing that truly, Winter is starting to wake from her sleep to bless them with snow. Summer makes her bid farewell with one last storm, with lights that brighten the sky and thunderous noises that shake his home.

It is when he is locking up shop, when the fire goes out for the night and stones put away, does she appear. Body drenched, and so much thinner than before. He thinks he sees a bruise underneath ratty clothes. There are questions running through his mind, many things he would like to say. Perhaps he wants to yell at her, perhaps he wants to give her some of his money, and he’s not quite sure what will happen between now and the moment she leaves.

“I have been ill,” she tells him. “I apologize. I have brought nothing of value. There is nothing I can give you. I have made a silly request and cannot pay for it.”

“There is one thing you can pay me with,” He says, and watches her expression become apprehensive. He sees the way her eyes dart around, looking for something that would possibly be useful. There is fear, real and true. So unlike the way she had been before. “Answers. What is this for?”

“She needs to be protected,” The woman answers, softly. “I have heard that anyone who holds the metals you make will always be safe.”

“The gods will always protect her,” The blacksmith says. “It does not matter if you have something I make or not. The gods bless those who continue their world.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps the gods will bless her longevity and love, perhaps strength,” The woman replies. “But I would still rather her have something special.”

The blacksmith nods. He understands. If he and his husband had decided to adopt, he would be willing to do whatever it takes to make sure their child will always have something–even when the earth takes them back.

“May you have the blessings of the gods,” the woman says, with her final departure.

Years later, when he is old and gray, when the world has slowed for him and it was harder to weld swords and the stories of adventures become something more he would rather read than hear, do rumors catch his ears.

The princess is getting married, but it is a peculiar type of marriage. And the king extends an invite to the blacksmith and his husband, as gesture that he remembers his youth himself. And of course, he agrees to go. The princess had grown up into a beautiful, kind, young woman. She is as wise as her father, she is as gracious as her mother. But she resembles her father more–a spirit for adventure, a desire to wander the large fields, scope out the mountains, and speak the language of the fae.

The ceremony is throughout the land, throughout his bustling city. They all chatter away, whispering rumors of this secret finacee. Nobody knew that someone had caught her heart and her eyes.

“Maybe she got engaged to a fae!” One jokes. “Told the fae her name, and now, she is marrying them!”

“Maybe one of the gods caught her eye?”

But all invitees go quiet as the crowned princess makes her way towards the alter, dressed lavishly but yet, not adorned in long dress. No, she wears the clothes of a well dressed warrior–of black lined with navy blue. The sword he had made her is at her side.

She stops by his side.

“After, I wish to speak with you privately.”

And the ceremony commences, her partner is also a lovely young woman. Her hair had been tamed into a bun adorned with braids and flowers. She is dressed in a long dress, yet, she looks uncomfortable in such finery.

They each tell stories, joyous ones, of their life together. It all ends in a kiss–but there is something more. The way the crowned princess clutches the other woman’s hands tightly, the way she whispers something, and how the now wife looks both so sad and happy.

Afterwards, the newly weds approach him and pull him off into a private room. It is then the blacksmith sees the medallion. It hangs around her neck, still so nicely polished to this day.

“Thank you,” the woman says.

“What happened with your mother?”

The woman draws in a deep breath, there are many sorrowful tales he has heard in his lifetime. Many stories of loss, the grief of heroes who witness their friends and loved ones die honorable deaths–the way they have watched villages be razed. And yet, nothing strikes deep as she quietly tells him of her childhood.

Her father had not been a kind man, a drunk whose idea of love was a form of fists. Often, her mother would tell her to hide and often, her mother would spend days in bed. And there would be times where her father was nowhere to be seen–these were the days her mother could leave without fear.

She tells him that the medallion had been more of a gift than a wish for protection, but underneath it all, her mother had truly prayed it would hold to the rumors of blessed metals. And this beautiful young woman believes it to be true–she had gotten so lucky throughout her life. But there was a point where she had thought that maybe the magic wore off.

One winter evening, when she had been a young teen, her mother sent her off to hunt for food. When she had returned, she had found their little home set ablaze. There had been no survivors–but out of it all, she was led to live a different path than her mother. All the prayers she had prayed after were all answered, when she asked for the weather to be kind, it was. And finally, she was led to the princess.

And this young woman, who looks so much like her mother, thanks him profusely for showing her mother such kindness. She offers him money now, a gracious payment for something so special.

The blacksmith declines, with a shake of his head.

Answers were payment enough.

[mayhemories]

Braids & War Paint (Part 7)

Notes On:

Part 1: / Part 2: / Part 3: / Part 4: / Part 5: / Part 6: 

Rowan’s time in Terrasen was running out. He had one day left here, he had one day left with the Terrasen sky, one day left with the royal court. One day left with Aelin. 

It had been one of the best trips Rowan had ever had. The Terrasen people, fae or no, were the most wild and free. The air called his name every time he took flight. The growls of the ghost leopards during the night tore respect in his heart for the animal’s Lady Lysandra would morph into. 

He had found Aelin here. His carranam. His- Rowan didn’t know what they were. Carranam usually fought well together with magic and metal, not tongue and teeth. Though, Rowan wasn’t complaining. 

They were spending their last hours together in a field of wildflowers a considerable distance from any prying eyes. His head in Aelin’s lap, she was focused on reading a story from a Terrasen folklore book to him, her voice golden and as silky as honey.

Rowan watched her as she read to him. Aelin’s eyebrows were animated like scales as the moved up and down, conveying her emotion to the lore tales. Her hair was unbound of any ties, it whipped around whenever it was caught by the slight breeze in the pine scented air. He took a tress of her long golden hair in-between his fingertips, curling it around his pointer finger absentmindedly.

Until her voice broke away from the story. Aelin looked down at him, her eyes wide and glassy. 

“What’s the matter, Fireheart?” Rowan asked, using the name he had adopted from Aelin’s parents. 

“I want to do something before you leave.” She stated evenly, her eyes shone in the early afternoon sun. 

“Of course.” Rowan said. Sitting up, Rowan enveloped her hand in his. With her free hand Aelin dug into her pocket and pulled a red string.

It wasn’t until Aelin started braiding his hair until he understood. 

“What am I promising?” Rowan asked. It took Aelin a long time before she said:

“Promise me, no matter what is happening, if you need help you will call for me.” Aelin said, her voice shaky. As soon as Aelin’s nimble fingers left his hair, Rowan put his hand in his pocket fishing for the bow string with his feather attached. 

As he braided his promise into her hair he said:

“Promise me you’ll let me serve you during your reign.” Aelin’s beautiful eyes snapped to his, her lip quivering. 

“Any position you want in my court, you shall have it.” She whispered as Rowan finished her braid. His wing feather catching the wind with her golden curls.

She traced the outline of his lips with her finger before fully enveloping him in a kiss with so much emotion that Rowan had never felt so alive. It was as if he existed until now, now he lived. It was here, in her embrace, wrapped in her scent where Rowan knew where he belonged. 

If he lived to serve her, it would be the happiest life Rowan would ever lead. 

They walked hand in hand back to the castle grounds where his travel party were waiting their arrival.  Rowan couldn’t help but feel something inside him pang when the warmth of her hand left his.

Aelin didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want to see him get on his horse and ride away from her. She had only just found him, she shouldn’t be forced to give him back.   

Alas, it had come. The time for goodbyes, which Aelin wasn’t particularly good at. Rowan was the only who hadn’t mounted his horse yet, still checking his saddlebags and rigging.   

“We’ll see each other again, Fireheart.” Rowan whispered in her ear as she pulled him in, her arms snaking around his neck. She didn’t care who saw her. Her mother, father, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide all stood off to the side, they had already said their goodbyes.

“Soon. I hope.” Aelin said in response as she came down from her tippy toes, holding his forearms.

“Prince Rowan, we must leave.” Said one of Galan’s guards. It was hard for Aelin to let him go, physically and mentally. As she stepped away and Rowan mounted his stallion. The burning in her chest, the tightening of her heart told her what had to be done. She had to know, had to test her theory before he left. 

Aelin grabbed his horse’s bridle. 

“Wait.” She commanded, the Wendlyn guards and Galan himself turned to look at the commotion. 

Kiss me, one last time. Aelin pleaded with her eyes. 

As he bent down to kiss her, with every eye focused on them, Aelin met him half way. With that, Aelin knew. She was right. 

It was a short kiss, sweet and pure. It held nothing but good intentions. 

Good intentions indeed, Aelin mused to herself as she saw her fae warrior, her fae prince, her carranam ride off into the midday sun. 

Rowan’s ship cabin was too cold, too small and too isolating. 

He sat at the writing desk provided, the ship was half-way across the sea and he couldn’t think about anything other than Aelin. How he simply couldn’t believe it, believe that his Carranam returned some kind of romantic feelings for him. It was stupid and childlike, but Rowan still couldn’t grasp his head around it. That the princess of the light, the heir, the next queen of Terrasen, wanted to be with him. Gods, imagine is he was young and foolish, if he had met her when he too was eighteen. It’d be a nightmare.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of a different prang in his chest, where the carranam bond lied another tether lied too, what it was, he had no idea. Whether Aelin could feel it on her end was a completely different story. 

He wondered how his cousins Enda and Sellene will take the news of his carranam. He laughed to himself about the look on Fenrys’ face when he told him the the crown jewel of Terrasen herself had chosen him in return. 

So, like Rowan Whitethorn always does when millions of thoughts raced around his head, he curated letters. 

Even though he hadn’t heard from Lorcan or Gavriel or Fenrys in a week, he still penned them letters, as did he pen Sellene and Endymion letters too, although they had gone silent for weeks. 

Rowan started to wonder if everything was how he left it on his home soil. The thought unnerved him.

He sprinted down the ships corridor to Galan’s suite, without bothering to knock he swung open the Crown Prince’s door. 

“What on earth Rowan!” Galan cried as he stood from a reading chair near the porthole.

“Have you received any letters from Varese?” Rowan asked, his eyes scanning Galan’s face.

“What? I-“ 

“Have you received any letters from Varese?” Rowan asked again, this time with a harsher tone.

The young prince’s golden skin drained to a spoiled milk colour. 

“No.”

Rowan could hear Galan shouting for him as he made haste up to the deck, crew jumping out of his way. 

The moon was covered by dark clouds that moved at a rapid speed, it was dark but Rowan could still she as he walked to the bow of the ship, Galan trailing behind him. 

“What is going on, Rowan?” Galan asked, panting as he came to a stop near him. 

Rowan didn’t answer, instead he kept his eyes on the clouds that were moving closer and closer to the ship.

They were no clouds. 

Thousands upon thousands of black winged creatures flew past and over their ship. A black tar like substance came out the creatures, landing into the water and on the deck. As the wave of them passed Rowan bent down and touched some of the black, wet mush and sniffed it. It wasn’t shit, it reached of death and destruction. It gave him the same spine tingle as Lorcan’s powers do, it caused the same wariness that Kaltain Rompier had spiked into him. It wasn’t living, whatever the animal’s were. They weren’t alive. Not with the rotten reek that followed them. 

He could hear Galan talking to him, but all Rowan could focus on was Aelin’s voice, Aelin telling him a story of the queen that trapped the demons in the ageless dark. That the queen had locked them away in their dimension, never to return until the marked one had found the blessed. 

Rowan understood then, that when they landed in Varese, that they, Rowan, Galan, all the Ashryvers would have to flee to Doneralle. Because it had happened. 

The marked one had found the blessed.   

And she was across the sea, and he was sailing towards the storm. 

AN: It’s short and shit but oh well.  As always, this part was written for: @2-bookmaster-2​ @aelin-and-feyre​ @rowanismybae​ @sparkleywonderful​ @cassiancalore​ @igniscorde7112​ @illyrian-high-lord​ @daughterxofxnight​ @bigsis227​ @crazybookladythings​ @gcarroll​ @sugarcoated44​ @wolffrising​ @notjustanyoldfangirl​ 

Hope everyone enjoyed it, I love hearing your comments, don’t be afraid to say something.  If you have ideas, prompts, requests, questions or just want a chat go jump into my inbox or message me. 

Much love and many thanks,

-El. 

[dciji-blog]

( * shin deiji . )

scanning shin deiji, he is twenty-two years old and read as audacious but hazardous, which explains why he is referred to as the scelestic. before virtual reality he was battling multiple personality disorder and living in japan. he’s been said to look incredibly similar to park jimin, but he’s never seen it. in this new virtual world, he plans on finally taming his temper and hopes to never go back to reality.

trigger warning: multiple personality disorder, abuse ( physical, emotional, sexual ), death, murder, violence, blood, adoption.

heeeeeeey-ho, your favourite friendly neighbourhood loser sky is finally here to talk about her beloved Angel™. she/her, twennnnney & from cest aka gmt+2, a nerd. but !! i’m not important here, my baby is sooo i’m really fckn hoping you guys are down for reading some perhaps confusing shit bc i plan on rambling a lot eeek ok here we go.

ps. i hope no one is triggered by this. if you have a problem with any part of my bio, feel free to contact me but only if you genuinely have a problem with it & not because you wanna be an asshole. ok ty~!!

pss. i know that it might seem Extra, introducing so many dark topics here, but abuse, separation & depression are believed to be among the main causes of mpd, so they needed to be included.

psss. i won’t actually be portraying the mental illness itself. it’s only present in my love’s past.

GANG JINYONG:

of course shin deiji isn’t a real name. shin deiji doesn’t exist in reality. at least not with this face. the name they’d attach to his solemn features back home was gang jinyong. jinnie.

born twenty-two years ago on november 11th in ilsan, south korea, this scorpio was raised by a single mother with occasional, undesired appearances of his sperm donor ( his father, but he doesn’t deserve to be called that ).

he was a result of a loveless act, a drunken hookup that failed to turn into anything more. a product of reckless infidelity. his mom, min seo, was a college senior & the guy, jiho, was the owner of a local pub, a married man with two children. when she discovered that she was pregnant & that he was married & uninterested to help her with the baby, she threatened to ruin his marriage if he did not support her financially.

he did so during her pregnancy. she kept asking him for help even after giving birth ( naturally, bc her parents didn’t want to support her & she had to drop out of college so she had no income whatsoever. couldn’t work bc who’d take care of tiny jinnie then ? ). he found them a decent apartment & gave her a job at the bar. jinnie grew up in that bar and watched men catcall, emotionally & sexually abuse his v young mother night after night. he even witnessed jiho slap her a couple of times when she asked for a raise or complained about the regular customers being nasty towards her.

min seo, bless her soul, was a wonderful mother. she put her child first and would rather starve than let her kid walk around hungry. but during the years of torture she became very mentally ill & she would snap at jinnie during her breakdowns. afterwards, though, she’d fall on her knees in front of the tiny kiddo & apologise, kiss his little cheeks & forehead.

when he grew up, he became a victim of the drunks as well. i don’t feel like writing about that now, it was too nasty.

experiencing all of this first hand, more often than not, jin would lock himself away & daydream about a better life. either a life where he was capable of protecting himself or a life in which he was appreciated. those two were among many scenarios he’d get lost in. 

while he was still young he dealed with some blackouts & memory loss. he couldn’t figure out how he ended up standing in a particular room. he couldn’t remember certain conversations or things he had done. it was a rare occurrence at first, but as he got older & more plagued by tragedies, it became more frequent.

min seo, believing she was doing the right thing, gave jinyong away when he was eleven. he would’ve been taken away from her anyway, since she was deemed an unfit parent & jin was growing up in an unhealthy environment.

the separation made his illness even worse, it really did. that’s when he had the most alts who distracted him. however, all of them merged and then split into two, leaving jin only with jiu & jeaki.

he was adopted by won mina & jongin, who moved to tokyo, japan with him a year later.

he went to school there & was a remarkable student who was especially interested in nanotechnology.

personality-wise, he was more of a quiet type. not shy but he didn’t like to speak when he had nothing smart to say. blunt af, honest. though, still considerate & kind.

JIU:

the only major alt that survived besides his most prominent one, jeaki.

jiu loves fashion more than life itself. sometimes jin would wake up in piles of new clothes & then look in the mirror and see that his hair’s grey or pink   ------   that’s mostly how he discovered when this alt was in charge of his body. jiu always styled his host. other alts didn’t really care about that, but would sometimes sigh at jiu’s extravagant fashion choices, cashmere suits & silky scarves, while going through the closet.

jiu wasn’t delusional, he knew he was not actually a fae prince, but he liked to view himself as one. no one ever praised him, so he took it upon himself to praise himself.

he was created to battle sexual abuse & the depressing lack of love jin was dealing with.

sweet af. pure. heart of gold. god of love. lecherous. classy.

heart-shaped sunglasses. dimmed lights with a rosy glow. tasty, edible lip scrubs. summer.

JEAKI:

main alt. he came when jin was feeling helpless. when anger was bubbling inside of him & ached to be released. he was initially envisioned as a protector of both jinyong & his mother, but soon jin could no longer control him & jeaki became a separate personality with a mind of his own. he started appearing more when jin moved to tokyo to live with his adoptive parents. with a tongue as sharp as a razor & steel knuckles that aren’t afraid to fight back, he failed to manage his wrath whenever he was present.

he was aware of his host & other alts and he wanted to do everything he could to be the most superior alt, often engaging in conflicts with them in jin’s mind even when he was not controlling his body. he managed to consume a couple of minor alts.

he’s not your typical murderous alt you know in media. no, he was never violent just because and he was never aggressive when unprovoked. as i said, he was there to fight back for jin, who was too afraid to do it himself.

thunderstorms. static noise. heavy eyeliner. danger. sore knuckles. bruised skin. jumping out of a plane. taking risks. cats. glares. autumn.

the night of doom: jeaki didn’t have the time to change from jiu’s ridiculous clothes. he needed to go out & get some fresh air. he was angry. mina yelled at jin because of a bad grade, not knowing that he, jeaki, took that test insted of jinnie. jeaki was the one feeling worthless so he needed to go out & cool down. but when his anger management issues combined with a street thug calling him out on his ( jiu’s ) fashion choices & using slurs ( reminding him of his days back at the bar in ilsen ), he could only see red. he started a fight without the intention to end a life, but that’s what happened.

TRANSITION: 

jinyong came back to his senses in the middle of the street with dirt & blood on his knuckles & face, beaten, but without a sign of the other’s body anywhere around him. he had no memory of what had happened, but he was having a panic attack & didn’t trust his adoptive parents enough to ask for help.

not long after that jinyong was tracked down & supposed to be charged for murder but a psychiatrist managed to prove that jin had dissociative identity disorder, so they placed him in a mental hospital.

alone, terrified & clueless of jeaki’s deed, jin cried his eyes out in his room in the hospital, until everything around him started pixelating.

SHIN DEIJI:

present day. no, there was not an epic war between alts & their host in order to determine who’d be the cured version of him in this world. it was peaceful. fragments of jin, jiu & jeaki merged in order to form a boy who thoroughly knows himself, but doesn’t know how he’ll react to anything. the voices from his head are gone   ------   they all speak at the same time when he opens his mouth.

seeing how he’s the perfect harmony of the three boys that used to live in his body, he couldn’t choose one of their names. he also didn’t want to be associated with anything from his past. that’s when he adopted the name shin deiji, deiji meaning daisy, his mother’s favourite flower. he might introduce himself to you as daisy rather than deiji if you don’t speak korean.

depending on what kind of person you are, you will be shown an appropriate side of deiji’s personality. so, when a couple of different people sit down and start talking about deiji, they might realise that it sounds as if they’re talking about different individuals.

he doesn’t trust people easily. he’d rather die than let anyone lay a poisonous hand on him again. he sticks up for himself. he’s his own protector and best friend. he’ll play you before you even think about playing him.

him not trusting people doesn’t mean he doesn’t engage in various interactions with them. he loves to charm his way into people’s lives because he’s no longer scared that he’ll blackout & do something that he won’t remember afterwards. something that he won’t be fully aware of & unable to control.

hooo, boy. he’s so angry. if you’re rude to him, he’ll be twice as rude to you. always wants to one up others. always. if you’re playing a game ?? he will lie & cheat & do everything to win. then lie about lying & cheating. if he still loses, expect a hissy fit.

god. affection. give this boy affection. would 11/10 die if someone cuddled him. especially when he’s being Extra with his raging, burning anger. he’d just ... melt tf away.

loves to party ?? he doesn’t have to take his medication anymore, but that doesn’t mean that he’s going to drink and get high every chance he gets. get those nasty substances away from him. they took his mother away.

he’s forgiven his mother for every single bad word she directed towards him bc he knows what it’s like battling a mental illness. he’d give anything for a chance to see her again & tell her that he loves her.

nanotechnology is still the love of his life & he’s still such a nerd and wants to know what tf is up with this virtual world & figure out how it works but like ... he’s a scared bambi that fears that he’ll get sent back to his own personal hell if he tries to figure out what’s going on.

so rly what he’s focusing on rn is becoming an actor because he has all these FEELINGS that need to be expressed without having a poor individual who’d be hit by that tidal wave. he rly wants to act, he thinks that will help him a lot. the idea of finding roles that would fit each of the personalities he previously consumed makes him all giddy.

pansexual & rly just a sexual person afaf.

so ... basically what i’m giving you here is a screaming nerd who loves to flirt. ok. should’ve only written that. rip.

if you’re still confused: he no longer has mpd. call him deiji/daisy. don’t yell at him. unless you want bad shit to happen ??

if you’ve read all of this, you’re my new best friend & i love you more than anything glrwbgowgo. come plot with me !!

[gathering-storm]

✂ whoever hates Shevel the most killing Wolfsbane and Vikki

Therethey stood under pouring rain, the wet sheets falling upon thegathering as though heaven itself were crying for the loss, a smalljar made of gold upon a stone pedestal carried by two creaturesthrough the saddened throngs of mortals and deities alike, the darklysoothing notes of the Vetmoran hymn “Passage of Eternity” flowingas a fabric of solace across the mournful scene, the reborn childVertoria and her mother Wolfsbane dressed in traditional black asArturis, the once conflicted demigod who had become as a teacher toboth of the men whose final shards now rested within the ornate urn,placed his hands upon their shoulders, his long, gray hair flowingaround to enshroud them both in a comforting embrace, the gravestonethe brothers would share engraved with a picture depicting the two ofthem in much happier times, that of when they were children, Shevel,his then peaceful amber eyes looking to the younger Raesal as the twoof them played a game of patty cake, their hands frozen together inthe picture, both smiling, both happy merely to be with each otherand the words “il Et Matavre” written in silver filigree belowthe peaceful scene, an ancient phrase in the brothers’ nativetongue alluding to a work of verse by the demigoddess of poetry,Romai, whose expression said volumes as she looked upon first the urnthen grave, her eyes, which for an eternity had remained in a loving,graceful stare even in times of great tragedy, now barren andlifeless, this beauty who rivaled even the True Angels now looking asthough all the endless life within her had been removed, replacedwith the same emptiness now felt by many in attendance, her lower lipshaking in the same manner as the innocent Vikki’s.Asthis final ceremony for the last true Vetmoran mages commenced, theone chosen to intern them into the soil made his way through thecrowd, footsteps as silent as the pain shared by all those who cameto attend, his long, flowing robe dragging the ground, his normallyproud, snow white wings hanging low at his sides, the very feathersupon them falling like tears onto the wet ground, this demigod ofromance, whose very presence on any other day would have inspiredhope in love anew, adopting the role of preacher in this time oftruest darkness, his motions slow as though he were struggling tofind the will to move while he opened the ancient tome he carriedwith him, its pages and cover, though older than the mortal planeitself, in immaculate shape. “and thus today do we, those fortunateenough to have known the Entwined Kings, release what remains oftheir immortal shells to the ether of the afterlife”, he said withforced ceremonial pride, searching the page to which he had turnedfor an appropriate eulogy, “their lives, though often tangled withthat of each other in endless conflict, concluding both with acts ofpurest sacrifice, their actions speaking volumes about their truenatures, with even the once dreaded Shevel giving all of himself toresurrect his precious family”, he added, a tear of both shock andsorrow falling from his eye as he recounted the death of that oncemost hated of Mageborn Sons, “as it is written in the SacredGuidance of Yuvasi, ‘let not thine eyes be fooled by what laybefore thee, as within even the darkest of hearts does their lay aspec of light, be not given solely to the words of others, as theyoft’ do not know fully of what they speak, nor shouldst thee trustthine first instinct as biblical truth, as e’en we Gods lackperfection, instead, shouldst thou desire the truth as a whole, lookbeyond that which thou dost see, into the deepest reaches of another,listen well to the sounds of thine own heart more than the misguidedwords of others and balance thine instinct with higher reason, asthis is the way to deepest understanding’”, he recited, thewords, though unintentionally, making several in the crowd wail fromguilt, having once misread one brother or the other, “now, if themost powerful of Yuvasi’s children would please come and give untothese fallen legends the Grand Blessing and thus send their souls toour Realm.” he called out, Decimara, the wrathful god of justicestepping forward as the ornate vessel was rested against the front ofits headstone then cutting off a piece of his hair, laying it alongwith the enchanted blade he had used to remove it, on top of theblessed urn “we may never, in all your lives, have seen from acommon viewpoint, I cannot deny my respect for you two, may you bereborn in our blessed realm as the deities you do so deserve to be.”he said kneeling , his hands upon the stone pedestal shielding Raesaland Shevel’s final home from the soggy soil, a brief pulse ofdivine energy flowing from him and into the sorrowful shrine.“Iknow this may not be the best of times, but might I ask what Shevel’sfinal words were?” Arturis questioned in a hushed whisper whileobserving the spectacle, Wolfsbane in her grief stricken state ofmind replying with the ones which stood out the most to her, those inthe language she did not recognize  “talepsum eccat manarade, e mar cammasepht?” sheanswered, the words freezing the wise demigod instantly, the sadnesshe had been restraining for this ceremony becoming immediatelyreplaced with horror, his jaw falling agape as the words sank in“EVERYONE AWAY FROM THE GRAVE NOW!” he shouted shoving his waythrough the mourners and toward the grave site, tossing gods andmortals alike away, even tossing Tereval, the one who had given theeulogy andDecimara, the physically strongest of all gods, backward with all the force he could muster, the jar containing thefinal fragments of the two beloved deceased shaking wildly, itsgolden sides cracking as it levitated into the air, Decimara’saura shining around it vibrantly, the mourners looking upon it inwide eyed surprise, some expecting a miraculous rebirth, othersfearful from Arturis’s actions, their worst feelings proving to bethe most accurate as a voice, unheard since the end of the MortalUprising, boomed from the container “my blood collected, I see theworld anew, as my reason and ferocity are both joined once more,forged together by the power of my strongest brother”, it said withgrim joy, shockwaves of terror reverberating through the entirepantheon present, their bodies shaking as the realization of what wasto come sank in entirely, a shapely male form appearing around thebarely whole urn, the shards within it flying through the cracks inits sides, adhering to the outline of the spectral shape coalescingaround it, “tell me, traitors to the Divine, are you ready to reapyour just reward?” the voice questioned angrily, the forming bodyexpanding to many times its size, stopping when even the largest ofdeities looked the size of a child by comparison, the shards fusing,long flowing hair trailing down a heavily scarred, snow-white back,fierce red eyes like portals to damnation igniting brightly, asmile so vicious as to send even the intimidating goddess ofpunishment, Urax, diving for whatever cover she could find, spreadingacross the face of this visage of destruction “S...S…..Sylivasi,how is this possible!?” the demonic looking Lord of Night,Obsidian, shouted in utter disbelief, “WE ALL WITNESSED VALSAERSLAY YOU!”“for such all knowing beings, all of you,save for this halfblood, are certainly talented at overlooking themost obvious of details”, the reborn emblem of fear laughed whilegrabbing Arturis by the neck, disabling the stunned demigod with asimple sharp grip, throwing his body into the frightened throngs, the defeated teacher landing at the feet of Wolfsbane and Vertoria,gaspingdesperately for air, the fair female fae discarding her fright forthe time being, charging at the horrid deity currently rampagingthrough his fellow gods, killing a great many of them effortlesslywith but a single swing of his immense scythe, “isthis all my brothers and sisters can do to stop me?!” he cackled,his face covered in the spray of their ends, his dark pridefuljolliness interrupted by the furious woman slamming headlong into hischin, sending him staggering backward “ah, here we have one withsome fight in her!” he smiled as he recovered, his attentionfocused on her and her alone, his strikes missing their mark as hetoyed with her, allowing her several direct hits upon his personage,enjoying the chance to be challenged in any respect. “CEASE THISFOOLISHNESS WOLFSBANE!” Decimara bellowed as he lunged toward hisbrother, sword slashing downward with air splitting speed, its bladebiting deeply into Sylivasi’s shoulder, eliciting a pained yelpfrom the surprised God of Death, “you have a daughter to think of”,the feared God of Justice urged while trying to use his blade to keepSylivasi restrained, pulling back hard with all of his might, barelyable to restrain the force of the fighting villain, “take her andfind safety in some other realm, where not even this eternal horrorknows the name”, he encouraged, “I shall keep himhere.” “ah, so there IS a heart in the only God asfeared as I”, Sylivasi taunted while ducking free of the blade inhis flesh, turning around with the speed of fate itself and plunginghis hand deep into the chest of his one time cohort in devastation,“and it beats so well, I can’t wait to taste it.” he uttered,licking his lips hungrily, enjoying the look of surprise onDecimara’s proud face as the knowledge his end was soon in comingtook full hold, the expression becoming the blank glare of a corpsewhen his solid black heart was torn from his body, pulsing wildly inthe eternal terror’s hand as if struggling to free itself, thethrobbing ceasing upon the Tormentor’s teeth sinking into itssupple walls, his face dyed crimson “now, where was I?” hequestioned sarcastically, turning his attention back to the fae, thenimmediately to her daughter, the child standing horrified amid thecleaved bodies of the other former mourners, her height all whichsaved her from Sylivasi’s first sudden strike, her terrified wailsfilling the air as the monster appearedclose in front of her,the innocent halfblood trying to force her frozen legs to flee, theblood running cold in her veins, her eyes showing the abject fearthat ran through her young mind as she looked up to the face of theman that would certainly be her end “Iwonder just what that mother of yours is willing to do to save yourlife...” he teased as he leaned down to her level, his nose itselffar larger than her, his bullying of Vertoria interrupted by a hardstrike to the back of his head from Wolfsbane’s fist “leave heralone, or die.” the fae said defiantly, the god vanishing for amoment, only to appear behind her in a much smaller size matching herown, his hands on her body, tracing up her sides and toward her chestin full view of the one she wished to protect “I might”, he saidpulling her tightly against himself, his hands clasping her breastsas hard as he was able, her struggles to free herself only serving toarouse him, “ifyou make it worth my while….” “there..is no way...Iwould EVER SEE TO THE PLEASURE OF A WORTHLESS SHIT LIKE YOU!” sheyelled as she fought against his force, only to receive a harsh biteto the edge of her wing, the villain tearing a chunk out of thebeautiful appendage “yes, fight back, its all the more fun to me.”he cheered tossing her to the ground “oh and, child, feel free towatch, I LOVE an audience...” he said as he tried to get on top ofWolfsbane, the fast woman sliding out from under him before he couldget into position, kicking him in the crotch with all her might, theblow briefly stunning him, allowing her a chance to follow it up witha barrage of ranged attacks, her magic driving him to the dirt “cute,now its my turn...” he said, his face caked in mud, the callouscoward grabbing Vertoria, his re-summoned scythe’s blade againsther throat “itsyour choice, bride of my reason, do as I say, or watch her die...”he threatened, digging the celestial steel into the scared kid’sskin deep enough to open a shallow cut “m..mommy...” shewhimpered “help me….” “yes valiant creature, help yourdaughter, you know how to...” Sylivasi said dragging the implementacross her throat, stopping just shy of her carotid artery, Wolfsbanetrying to think of a way to save her beloved child without giving theman what he so desired, her gaze flitting between him, her daughter,his weapon and the area around the two of them “time’s runningshort sweetheart….” he encouraged, the tip of his blade startingto burrow in to Vertoria’s lifeline, the child crying as she feltwhat could likely be her final pain, “I have a WHOLE UNIVERSE toruin after this!” he shouted dementedly, a drop of Vikki’s bloodgracing the silver instrument, streaking its face like the signatureof doom “a...alright...” Wolf relented as she started to move thestraps to her funeral gown off of her shoulders “but...can we atleast do it somewhere she can’t see?” she asked, hoping to atleast spare Vertoria the sight of her mother being ravaged “I canwork with that, giving you your last little request...” heanswered, removing his hands from Vikki, his weapon staying preciselywhere it was “but if you try to break our deal...its curtains forher...” he added heading her way, his scythe keeping pace as thehalfbreed tried to move awayfrom it.“I won’t, just get this over with….” shesaid resigned to her fate, the ferocious acts of desire thatfollowed, the stuff of nightmares as the rapacious formerly deceaseddeity explored every cruel option his endlessly twisted mind couldconceive of, the fae’s screams of pain and agony from behind theonly tree near the grave reducing her daughter to frantic tears, asher body was used and abused like a toy owned by a psychoticteenager, his every blow onto her and every thrust within her donewith the utmost malice, her bones eventually snapping from the force,her skin opened up in countless cuts and her very soul nearly torn toshreds as the bestial devil finished his gruesome acts of sexualtorture, letting out a final loud grunt accented by her most frantichowlwhenhe spilled his seed within her. The deed done, he rose from thewrithing mass of womanhood, his body sweaty, face almost peaceful,and said in a voice brimming with pure evil “I won’t let yousuffer, time to die.” before crushing her skull beneath his foot,thelast sound she would ever loose a desperate scream, thislast cry of her life followed almost immediately by the loud,sickening crunch of her head caving in beneath the force of his foot“thatjust leaves the girl….” he hummed appearing once more near Vikki,the dreaded weapon which kept her prisoner still where he had placedit, its tip nearly buried in her “can’t have you coming back forrevenge some day, say hi to your mother for me.” he said beforeslittingher throat from ear to ear, washing the ground in the crimson tearsof her veins, her eyes frozen in shock and herbody falling ontothe soaked soil onlyto be kicked onto the grave which was meant to house her father anduncle,her hands reachingfor the picture engraved on the headstone as her life ebbed quicklyaway, a last attempt at comfort before she succumbed, her fingertipsdug into the crevices of the engraving, head falling to rest againstthe stone slab, in line with Shevel’s gaze, her tears as she sliddown to that final position clinging to the image of her father’seyes, making the grave itself seem to cry for the loss of her.