#    𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐌     ⸻     an independent and highly  selective portrayal of an original character , 𝑳𝑰𝑨𝑵𝑨 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑼𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑰𝑳 , 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. focusing heavily on the idea that death is not something to be afraid of , that death is the light at the end of the tunnel because it is warm && it is peaceful. a creation scribed and passionately adored by  𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒚𝒏. 

threaded with themes of ⸻ horror, fantasy, sci - fi sexual themes, religious themes and imagery also found here. other themes present will be love as a consuming force, love as worship, love as pain, love as obsession, the balance between life and death, possession and the art of corruption, body horror as art, worship as a lifestyle, the guiding light of heaven, the corruption of religion in the name of god, penance for the sins of others, the romance of death, discovering salvation after suffering and variations of different literary motifs     ⸻ influenced by my own lore as well as canon material from fandoms and other forms of media, deeply inspired by the passion and love of simply creating and bonding with any and all types of characters. a creation scribed and passionately adored by  𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒚𝒏. 

　 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑫. 𝑰𝑵𝑩𝑶𝑿. 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺. 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑺.

　 ⦗ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐁 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ? ⦘

𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑂𝑁 ⸻ You grew up too fast && all you know is the calluses on your fists && the thousand invisible scars that you pretend don't ache. Your anger burns so bright , so hot or maybe not at all , so deep you could never tell it was there. You are yours && you will defend that to the death after so many years of being ripped apart && denied your own agency && maybe you are still facing the bastards who stole your innocence but you will survive because that's the only thing you know how to do without breaking , the only thing you know besides protect , protect , protect , protect , yourself or sometimes those few others you claim as yours. You are a thousand sharp edges but impenetrable , a traumatized child so covered by thorny armor that you promised yourself you're grown now , you're stronger than anyone who has ever hurt you. You're safe. Nothing will ever hurt you again. You're so alone though sometimes , in a world that sees you as too much or too broken or too angry or too hurt , && you want to scream with the too - much of it , prove that you're okay , that you're self reliant , that you are strong enough to stake your claim on your mind , on your heart , on your body , on your people , && protect it from any who dare take it away from you. You are the sea in tempest , a howling sky , a tsunami in motion , a force of nature , no matter how much you sometimes yearn to be still , to be safe , to be small. You are a dandelion , stubborn && determined to grow in the rockiest of soil , && bloom again in spring.

　　　　𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐘 , 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 && 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 except they both always knew the outcome. But the thing that Liana hated was that she never could quite tell if it was because the pipeline of her defiance into submission was pre - ordained by the infernal binding contract between them , or if it was because somewhere deep down ... that's what she had wanted all along [ even if she were loathe to admit it && probably never would ]. Yet there were still some moments , these fleeting battles of dominance , where the fire in Liana's heart couldn't be quelled by his simple command bidding her to ❛ Do as I say. ❜ Especially not when a threat was laid unto innocents. Earthen gaze flickers to the priest huddled behind the altar [ her heart breaks , this was her fault ... her fault that someone devoted to her God cowers in fear of what she has wrought unto the church ].

❛ You will do no such thing! ❜ But her body doesn't move to jump in front of the priest as fast as she'd like , for in Kyrin's simple gesture of holding a finger beneath her chin , her defenses crumble , akin to Jericho , the walls come tumbling down and Liana is pliant , a moldable clay for Kyrin to fashion her into whatever puppet that fits his fancy [ how ironic when it was God who made Adam from the ground ]. Command given , yet another soul ? Already ? Already he wants another ? She had only just brought him a soul not two weeks ago ! Brows furrow , defiant despite the clear need to obey [ damn that infernal contract ! That which connects her soul to him like a chain coiled 'round her spine ]. Shaken breath is inhaled through nostrils as the angel attempts to hold pretty head high. ❛ Fine. I'll do it, but I have conditions, Kyrin. ❜

FRUITS && BERRIES JUST BECAUSE ?! The angel's gaze wavers , glossing over with curiosity because truly , what had she done to deserve such a sweet gesture ? Whatever the case , she's grateful && chaste kiss is pressed to Lightning's soft cheek , her own visage positively beaming as she pulls away.

❛ Lightning! ❜ Excitement skitters over her body , a breath hitched as doe - eyed gaze falls on the basket in her hands. She's actually so excited that she's started to hover above the ground && she does a quick little circle around Lightning before she stops in the air , directly in front of the rose - haired woman , taking a strawberry && holding it up to the other's lips. ❛ Would you care to take the first bite? ❜

　　　𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 , then Rosfield Estate would resemble something like it. So far , everything that she'd seen [ which was, albeit, not much considering she'd been ill ] had been . . . perfect , for lack of a better word. The house itself was grand , far grander than any sort of abode she could ever dream of acquiring someday. Even if she were to somehow find a suitor [ doubtful, considering Lachlan's raging ire ... a brother's love, indeed ] , her dowry was so little.

　　　❛ Any respectable man, ❜ Lachlan would say , and she would shut down at the utterance of those three words — retreat into the palace of her mind where she was and could be anything that she wanted to be. That was another thing she liked about the Rosfield Estate — the places she would hide in her imagination seemed to fade . . . at least , for the little amount of time she'd spent safe within the walls , she hadn't felt the need to run away. It was almost as if her mind was letting her know that she would be safe to stay , to stay at the estate , to stay with Jill , with Clive — fondness erupted in her chest at the mere thought of being held in Clive's embrace and just as she mentally chastised herself for it , the very man who occupied said thoughts made his way over. As sheepishly as she wanted to react , years of training beat into her mind forced a polite smile , though apples of pale cheeks did still bloom pink [ she must have forgotten that the man didn't have access to her thoughts ].

　　　❛ Yes! I'm feeling much better. ❜ There's a crack in her tone that were she not polite would have caused her nose to scrunch in horror , though there was no doubt in her mind that it would haunt her for weeks. Though the worry is quickly quelled when Clive inquires about a tour of the grounds , but not before cracking a silly little pun that she can't help but to breathe a soft chime - like giggle. ❛ I ... would love to see the grounds. Not only have I been in a daydream, yearning to see them, but I fear I may be getting just a little restless. ❜ Sickness was most terrible company to keep. ❛ And we most certainly cannot let those poor birds go so hungry that they become flighty... ❜ A giggle , her hand raising to cover her mouth , then , ❛ After all, they are quite lovely to watch from the window. ❜