Quixotic
quixotic
in realms of magic, far away, they wander where the dragons play
A hero's sword within their hand, and castles rise on shifting sand
They ride the storm, command the sea, unlock the doors to mystery
a cloak of myths, a crown of lore,
they step through each enchanted door where giants fall and kingdoms grow
and every path a tale to know
but as the tale begins to slow, they feel a chill, a sinking low
the wonders dim, the colors fide like morning mist in evening's shade
they turn to speak, but no one's near
no voice to calm, no soul to hear, the silence holds a hollow tone
they lift their eyes and they're alone
~ Khai Moffett
More Posts from Khaidrate and Others
since the old version of this post was flagged for 'adult content'...
reblog this post if your account is a trans safe space or owned by a trans person!
along with that, reblog if your account is a trans non-binary spectrum safe space or owned by someone on the trans enby spectrum!
"farewell divath fyr. we will not meet again;."
Idk if this has been done before but I just thought of it
I mean..am I right? 👀😏
I cant believe it’s over 😭😭😭 the greatest fic on Ao3
IT IS DONE
Years and years I've funneled into this fic and finally (FINALLY) it's over. Thank you to all my dear and darling friends and readers who have supported this chaotic endeavor, especially those who left very insightful comments on my poll last week. It was the motivation I needed to see this thing through. Really, I don't have the proper words to express my gratitude :')
So without further ado, the grand finale:
Chapter 78: Penance — The Pain We Live For
Was it worth it? Will it ever be?
Nim followed after Elianna, and the earth pushed hard against her feet, each step, urging her onward. Move faster. Get out, get out, get out. This world knew all she had taken from it, and linger as long as she liked, it still wanted her gone. It knew of her sickness and alien ways, and like everyone else she loved, dead or living, it too would forsake her. Stubborn and spiteful, Nim dug her heel into the dirt. She wished to shed a piece of herself here, anchor the woman she’d once been upon Nirn, and even if what mangled remnant sprouted into nothing but a cypress knee, wouldn’t it be better than being ousted completely? Surely no woman, mortal or daedra, could be built to withstand such desertion, and how strange that even as a god, her body still recalled the shapes of the wounds this world had carved into her as she’d tried to flee it. How sad to confess that the backhand of its wrath didn’t hurt half as much as its absence.
if i was orpheus i just wouldn't have turned around lol
