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Working Title

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Reads 7
Votes 1
Parts 1
Time 7m

adventure epic odyssey tragedy

Let's say you were completely encapsulated in darkness; in fact, you wouldn't even have the concept of darkness. You'd have a faint sense of self, and that's about it, there'd be no notion of time, space, or anything of the like. Trapped inside your own mind, only your own thoughts to entertain yourself. Not having the faintest clue of what exists beyond the inescapable, all-encompassing darkness. A place where nothing exists except your measly fragile consciousness, the paragon of isolation, the Void. Draven has been trapped in the Void for eons and lost everything that was him. His memories, sanity, soul, everything that defined him as a person were completely and utterly erased. But suddenly, he found himself in the regular world after Alina, or the goddess of death's, soul gets trapped inside of him following her execution. Now Draven must somehow escape the gods' fury, as they've mistaken him for Alina, and survive in the unforgiving world which he has no knowledge of.All Rights Reserved

adventure epic odyssey tragedy

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[CHAPTER 1.1] - DEATH'S ROW
Thu, Feb 13, 2020

1 part

[CHAPTER 1.1] - DEATH'S ROW
Thu, Feb 13, 2020

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Slide 1 of 9

Ice Blue and Blinding Gold cover

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Ice Blue and Blinding Gold

Imagine surviving in a fucked up Harry Potter AU with a murdering racist on the loose and an emerging Gray Lady. Anne could not imagine surviving here if these Slytherin boys and 'queen' don't stop causing havoc. Siriusly, why is Rosaline Potter? * Excerpt "Sallow stop right this instant!" "And if I don't ? What are you gonna do Potter, let your dogs loose on me? How terrifying." She replies with a perfectly poised face. However her brisk pace is halted suddenly as Lestrange closes in on her, grabbing her throat in a vice grip as he leans down to her eye level, whispering throatily, "She asked you a question, so you answer. Hmm?" Holding onto her wrists with his left hand and her neck in his right one he swipes up his thum to brush against her jawline. Dolohov and Nott lean on the walls with identical poses as they both level her with a sharp gaze. Tilting her head sideways so she is focusing on bright emerald eyes Anne speaks, "You might worship the ground she walks on Lestrange. But I don't own shit to your queen, especially not an explanation." The addressed male get so enraged that he increases the pressure at her throat and she can already feel the bruises forming and - suddenly he is thrown on the floor with a loud thud as Anne gets enveloped in the familiar embrace of expensive cologne and the gentlest whiff of spices, as she hears her saviour's words, easily imagining his thick brows furrowed in urgency. "Are you okay, doll?" With ice blue eyes clouded with worry. * Let's not forget her identity, like Sebastian Sallow's great granddaughter? Gee thanks for the legacy. But ancient magic is cool.