❝Come. Kiss me godless.❞
Beauty. Terror. Chaos.
We are creatures of song and sin. Blessed with destruction. Cursed with allure. Born with the blood of humanity, Heaven and Hell scorching through our veins. The blood of angels. The blood of d...
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This is an unholy story.
One of lust and fire. Fear and wretched survival. Blood on mischievous lips and freckles that shine like stars. It is a story of darkness, curiosity, rain. A story spun from half-remembered songs and puzzles missing pieces.
It is not about grieving.
It is about
s h a t t e r i n g.
A story of betrayal and forests of whispering, whispering trees. It tells about creatures swathed in patchworks of the night sky, furs rippling from the stars glittering on their coats. It speaks of a place echoing with the ballad of prophecies, of mortal gods, and mismatched eyes.
It is about a hunger
so consuming
it drives you nearly
i n s a n e.
It is one of beauty and chaos. One of magic, gifts, curses. Graces. However, unlike many whimsical fancies, this story starts where countless stories have ended.
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