⚠️ warning: mature content, including gore, abuse, mental illness( small scale),sexual relations, and some beastial play between protagonist and the wendigo
"Heed this child of thorn,
From whence they came,
'Twas the darkness born.
Unite with beast...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(A/n: I'm sooo sorry. I've had this weird thing where I dip out mentally for days ever since I found out about my dad's suicide. Time just suddenly slips through my fingers. I know this was a few days behind schedule from what I promised but I hope you guys can understand 🖤)
🍄
Oh dear, that girl has found herself in quite the pickle hasn't she? Good thing she's made some new friends willing to protect her. Even now as we speak, a faery with the heart of a warrior rides on his ribbeting stead towards her. His eyes narrow on the wood ahead as branches graze them in passing. The poor toad's eyes are bulging as heels dig into his sides violently, urging him to go faster. Fakir is relentless and determined to reach his lady in time. Thoughts of the Knights of Nevermore worry him as well. It took the head of their household quite some time to get the Council of Evermore on board with blessing them with a bride. Now that all seems to be but a lie, and Fakir worries if they endangered Delilah by choosing her to be theirs. Was this the Council's plan all along? Did they set out from the beginning to tease them with what they never should've been gifted to begin with? Fakir knows one thing though. It beats in his heart with a vengeance - Delilah is theirs. She is his and his family's, and nothing in this world - not even the Knights of Nevermore - will take her away. Let's hope he's right.
"Come on! Hyah!" Fakir orders while digging his heels into the toad's sides over and over again. The toad ribbits in despair, pushing his legs to the limit as they hop along through the woods. They're nearing the halfway point to Mossy Moe's burrow, but it isn't near enough for Fakir. His teeth are bared in a determined sneer, golden eyes narrowing on the path ahead. Fear makes him act so unhinged.
Fakir has lived a long time, longer than most ever can dream of living. For a while, he lived his life on the other side of the veil - in his homeland of Elfheim. Through an unprecedented turn of events, he found himself on this side of things and in the company of the only beings willing to stand by his side. Faery Queens don't much like being disobeyed and Fakir did so like it was his purpose in life.
