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Ignos was a glutton for Clode. The God of Fire feasted on her. Consumed her. Loved her so much he could not breathe without her.
Until one aurora rise, for the first time in more than five million phases . . . Another moon fell.
Typical elemental bullshit, only thinking about themselves.
sanguine
demure
demure
His mouth might be saying drink, but his eyes say ugly things that pick you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left for the scavengers.
Honestly, he should use it to shake this male’s hand because he absolutely just saved his life. For now.
In another life, I might’ve befriended Levvi. But— So many buts.
The harder you care, the more fragile everything seems. Easier to just . . . Not.
Survival’s funny. Some wear it like a whisper, others like a scream. Mine’s a scorched skeleton of flame-forged rage that keeps me upright. Keeps me moving forward.
In fact, even if he were a pile of shit on the pavement, I’d still go out of my way to stomp on him.
The God of Fire loves to feast, and I’d rather be skinned alive than have him gnaw on me. Again.
This game always reminds me of that, except I felt sorry for the eahl.
Clode’s such a crazy, spiteful bitch. I love her.
Like I’ve just scrubbed one of the many stains from this big, beautiful world I so desperately want to love.
Sadness is like stones that stack inside you, making it harder to move. Ignorance is my self-preservation tonic, and I’ll swear by it until I die.
Maybe it was just a convenient spot to die.
“Catch your own damn sowmoth,” I mutter, knowing damn well I’ll catch her a bloody sowmoth if the bloody store has no jars of bloody powder.
I don’t think I want to understand.
You can reshape a turd an infinite number of times, but it’s still a turd. It still stinks.
“And what do you do for the cause?” I ask, brow raised. “Besides sucking the Elding’s metaphorical cock.” Her cheeks flush, painted lips falling open. Not that any words come out. My brows bump up. Not so metaphorical, it seems.
I don’t think my brother’s coming home from Netheryn.
typo
at least until the Elding decides to stop clipping leaves off this malignant tree and start hacking at its roots.
Seems a bit silly to me since I didn’t hide in his sleigh to sit in a hut and eat butterberry chews . . . I came to get my own Moonplume egg.
“And because I’ve fallen in love with him.”
I’ve suffered from the same ailment for over an eon, and I’ll continue suffering until the dae I die.
If my brother hadn’t kept her so sheltered from the world, perhaps she wouldn’t have fallen in love with a fucking stone.
I swathe the blanket around her shoulders to keep her nice and warm,
The one she nests within?
The Other feeds on the squishy sounds their hearts make, digesting their near-silent whispers:
This Rekk is smarter than the ones waiting in such obvious places. No matter. He, too, will be lured out by blood. She cracks a smile. Lots of it.
But if he doesn’t wake, I’ve decided I’m not going home. I can’t get him on a sleigh, and I won’t leave him here in the cold and the dark on his own. He hates being alone, and he really hates the dark.
but the only thing I’ll spill is blood.”
Not sure how long ago that was. Feels like a while.
Perhaps my skewed vision is making me see things, but he has a look about him. Like if I tell him who really punched me in the face, the kill will no longer be mine,
Like it’s somehow his fault I possess a brain that thinks, a mouth that speaks,
So glad he tortured me back to health during my last living moments. What a way to go out. Fitting, but a bit shit.
He smelled good. I fucked up. Let’s not dwell on it.
To disinfect. But most importantly—to make you smell like you’ve been shat on. No, thank you.
Much as I hate her, the bitch doesn’t know how to fail. A seed of hope I’ll take to my death.
My guts splat against my spine,
Strangely.
“Heartily decline.” Of course. I hope he doesn’t mind when I heartily slit his throat.
“Kaan, no. I did not agree to this!” His body stiffens, steps slowing, a low, grating sound coming from him. “Say it again . . .” “What?” “My name, Moonbeam. Say it again.”
dive. “You didn’t say please,” he finally says, then kicks forward again. Wha— “Please!” “Too late.”
pressed close to a male who smells too good to flay.
“I’m half dead already, bleeding out at your feet. Can’t you see?”
I ask, trying to distract from the fact that I just yielded to this male and accepted his help. Again. It chafes.
