Creator Chose Not To Use Archive WarningsGraphic Depictions Of Violence F/M
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Summary
Sliced open, her touch had him eviscerated, guts messily spilling to the ground. Phantom hands wrenched him apart until he was nothing more than a hollow crevice. Void. Empty for the taking. Golden eyes, golden hair—drenched in muck and blood—make home in his cavities.
She was everything in between—the ichor that now flows in his veins, the momentary taste of something inexplicably divine—curling around his neck in a suffocating noose. With one look, the dam bursts, engulfing all that stands in its wake—whether it be the flowers, the birds, or the world itself.
(No, the poets had never mentioned this.)
In a four-act play orchestrated by Fate, Dainsleif finds gold in a sea of grays.
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