it's hell on earth to be heavenly . ・゜゜・.#𝙶𝙾𝙳𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴𝙳 is a writing blog dependent on nocturniafm . written with ugly devotion by lo, who is aged thirty, operates from the gmt timezone, and prefers the pronouns of she and her .
i . mina kaelvorn
Stranger Things
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

if i look back, i am lost
No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Product Placement

Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap
cherry valley forever
styofa doing anything

⁂
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
hello vonnie
dirt enthusiast
h
NASA
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature

Kaledo Art
will byers stan first human second

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Türkiye

seen from South Korea

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Sweden

seen from Canada

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@godlived
it's hell on earth to be heavenly . ・゜゜・.#𝙶𝙾𝙳𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴𝙳 is a writing blog dependent on nocturniafm . written with ugly devotion by lo, who is aged thirty, operates from the gmt timezone, and prefers the pronouns of she and her .
i . mina kaelvorn
open to —
though the candle flame flickers in a halo of golden light all around her, mina swears that she can spy shadows lurking at the corner of her vision. is it only fear, or is that she has brought something of braxigar with her? no matter, mina pushes it from her mind and focuses on the goblet of wine clutched between her pale fingers, a life raft amidst the anxiety wreaking havoc upon her. they have made her look somewhat beautiful again, a whisper of her former self watching her from her reflection in the looking glass. her hair braided back to hide away its lifelessness, colour pinched into her cheeks, kohl lined eyes, and a dress of pale gold to liven up the sallow pallor to her skin. it would take a miracle to awaken the mina of old, raising her like the dead of braxigar, a walking corpse trailing bone dust in her wake. as another approaches, her eyes lift and she attempts to force some life back into her gaze, to offer them a small if shaky smile. she does not wish to be a weakened little thing, to share these quivering pieces of herself with those lurking within the halls of moira castle. “how swiftly we are replaced,” she almost sounds mournful, though it is difficult to pity the death of her cousin, not when he has left them all behind in this mess whilst he rests. gods, what it would mean to sleep a while. “our lives must continue on though, i suppose.”
The silken skirts of Lenore's dress billowed in the night breeze, rendering her wisp-like, shaded in shadow, dressed by mist. She, too, was snowborn, so no goosebumps erupted across her pale flesh yet. "You and I have withstood far worse temperatures; it is no bother. You know I tire of gatherings such as these, so a quiet moment is most welcome." Lenore covered their interlinked fingers with her other hand. Any other time, she would have said Mina looked as radiant as ever. Now a frailty had struck her sister to the bone, some underlying sickness seeping warmth from her skin and beauty from her flesh. "... Thank you."
Lenore let go and drifted towards the edge of the balcony, seating herself on the parapet without a single glance down at the void that lurked beneath, her back to the stars. Her lash line had been subtly lined with black pigment, rendering the blue of her eyes more prominent against her curls. "A curious thought, isn't it?" She started, softly, quietly, like a dagger slipped between the ribs. "How the skies look the same no matter where you are or how much the world changes, how much you might change? I imagine you had little time for star gazing during your studies." She lightly tapped the stone beneath her fingertips in a steady rhythm. "As I imagine Lord Kaelen to be a strict teacher."
Two sisters, united in their mission, yet unable to share their secrets. Perhaps Mina preferred she said nothing. Perhaps she should have pretended her sister had not left a warrior and returned a corpse.
once, the sweeping of skirts in the dance across a castle floor might have made mina’s heart leap in her excitement. once, when she had spent her days imagining the future which she had always believed to be her own. it is all so out of her control now, lord kaelen and all the rest of them who do not quite hold her as their prisoner, but whose eyes have remained upon mina as she does what she can to survive the new reality forged for herself. what once had worried the lady of yverhald keep feels as insignificant as the fluttering wings of a butterfly. the prospect of marriage, of ruling in the seat which had once been her right, all of it lost to the drifting memories of a time which feels long past. “the cold reminds me of home,” she agrees, her voice fragile as the ice she grew up within, surrounded by. though there is tenderness there, it is ever held for her sister beloved. is it easier to show her affection, now? is it worn plainly on the moonlit paleness of her face? can lenore see what mina, mere months ago, could not so easily hand over? “it is all so different, though the night sky remains unchanged,” wistful, her eyes lift to the heavens and mina imagines she is back home, back in a time and a place where she had felt safe and alive. “no, there is not much star gazing. there is much to learn, and none of it is so beautiful as the night sky.” to learn of bone dust and terror, of an ice which grips her harder than the coldest of nights in yverhald keep. “he is strict, though i do have my freedoms.” mina looks to lenore and feels her heart twist with grief, as though she has lost her forever though she stands here, radiant before her. “i only wish i was worthy of this responsibility.”
worry etches in her eyes , a feeling of dread washes over her as she watches her closest friend wither right before her eyes . what had she been up to in braxigar ? was the garramoth household so cruel that her once adventurous companion had lost all hope of learning and understanding ? " mina , you are scaring me . " her voice is nothing but a whisper and as she stands before the fire , warming her fingers chantara watches from behind her . for a while they just stand there , unable to perhaps understand the other and what ails them both but in different terms . " we should get ready , i will ask the servant to bring your evening gown and we can go down together . " thanachalerm daughter doesn't look at kaelvorn , it is not needed for this time she takes the reigns while her friend seems to have drifted elsewhere .
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏
fingers intertwine with friend and before even the opening has been processed , they walk into the grand hall . last time they were here was for anothers coronation , for anothers chosing . she could still remember the light in mina's eyes , watching her cousin recieve the throne and crown . an ache is present , tormenting her at the mere memory of valerion . " stick close to me tonight , i do not think i'd like to part ways . " she murmurs as they together enter the grand hall . it was terrifying , yet it seemed everyone was in good spirits , in a mood of a new beginning . wasn't that what she needed ? perhaps mina needed it too . the thought of them being together calmed her ever so little . " maybe we can dance together , i'd like that . " citrine hues scan the crowd , never upon friend , yet her fingers squeeze as lightly as she can to the one she holds dear .
moira castle is a reminder of a time not so long ago. mina had laughed so freely with chantara, had teased her beloved companion and tugged lightly on her hair as they sat, as they so often do, close together where they might hush soft words to one another. secrets shared, a woman as vibrant as the moon she has always heard herself compared to. now, it seems she resembles the dusting of bones, weak and as viscous as the wine she accepts as they step into the ballroom together. “i always do.” she reminds hers, attempting at levity despite the unease which she can feel herself sowing within chantara. she swallows her wine in swift gulps, grateful for the warmth it offers, before handing off her goblet and returning her attention to her friend, where it almost always runs to. “look at me,” she insists, tugging at her friend’s hand as she looks upon the crowd rather than the quivering, too large eyes of mina. “you are so afraid, chantara. i’m going to be alright… it is so important that we learn the truth.”
open to — @lcnores
she is draped in silks of gold and glittering pink, the material soft against her skin, pale as the dead. in truth, she does not feel as though she belongs here amongst the merriment, but mina has grown used to putting on a brave face for the sake of the court and all of those around her. she watches the dancing, pale eyes trailing in the wake of swishing skirts and the soft clatter of heels against the pristine floors. it is all so beautiful, she fears that it will turn to dust should she touch it. all of it will turn to dust; as will she. her eyes close to the onslaught of anxiety, memories a dancing taunt as they remind her of what she has learned and what she must return to. put it off. shoved to the back of her mind so she can look across the crowds and see lenore close by, watching the dance. she reaches for her, a cold hand slipping into the palm of her sister before she urges them out onto the balcony. the night air greets her hollowed cheeks, and mina sucks in an aching breath before her eyes look out over the land. she counts the stars for a moment before turning to her sister. “you look beautiful, lenore.” she offers a small, quivering smile. “i’m sorry for dragging you out into the cold… it is just so loud in there, and i wanted a moment with my sister.”
"i said, what a pleasure it is to look upon your face once more, lady kaelvorn." while there was a part of varyn that always tried to flatter those around him, he was truthful in his statement. lady mina kaelvorn had moved to braxigar, her younger sister lenore taking over as heir. why all of those decisions were made, varyn does not know. truthfully, he's not interested enough to pry. regardless, he welcomes the opportunity to converse with lady mina once more, and learn all about her time in another hollow. "i was uncertain if you would be joining us here in moira castle. how thankful i am that you have."
nodding at her mention of the noise, varyn looked out at the numerous velkynar training, other's getting the castle ready for the royal family and their guests by bringing in food and drink to what he assumed would be the castle kitchens. "it seems the world does not always rest when we do." taking in a long, sharp breath, varyn noted how different the air felt here in morkhul. not as sharp or brisk as back home.
it is a comfort to be reminded of home. to see it in the face of an old friend, all of those that she loves and has run from to seek her higher purpose. she feels it withering in her hands, for mina does not know if it was worth the cost, all of this knowing. braxigar is cloaked in shadow for a reason, and she wonders how much longer she has before such shadows consume her whole. “the pleasure is mine, my lord. six months has felt like years.” a truth which weighs heavy upon her, that time passes slowly when one is waiting for the end of one’s torment. “i am thankful to be here. braxigar is an interesting land, but the light, and the air, of moira castle is welcome.” so careful with her words, as though mina is upon tiptoes, darting around every danger. she looks around her, the world coming into focus, and mina lets out a breath of relief. at times, she forgets that she is safe. “it doesn’t. i miss home. i miss our ways.” it is an ache in her chest, a constant since she settled in her new home and felt the loss of yverhald keep and all of those within whom she loves.
onyx orbs focus upon the silver haired woman . she'd lived with his fmaily for six months now , a deal with her father struck for them to be preared . it all had a purpose , it all needed a understanding and resolve . the child blessed by the moon had been sent to him eager and excited to learn , only for her light to dwindle each night . braxigar was dark , filled with a certain poison you could not withstand unless you had been swallowing it since birth . he could not blame her for losing her light , her eagerness when he had stepped down as a council member right before .
" why do you say that ? " there's a velvet curtain dressed in his words , a soft side of venom , placed in it as who knows what he will claim from her answer . very few understood how little the crownwearer meant in the big picture , very few even understood that if the crownwearer perhaps rebelled along side a hollow , the council would not hesitate to slaughter a whole people - except for the gifted . " does wearing the crown make your soul doomed or do you believe there is a curse upon that chair ? " a menacing thought runs through the lords mind and a smirk is placed upon his lips as eyes return to iron chair . " go sit upon it mina , perhaps the pollution from braxigar will evaporate from your lungs . "
it is impossible to deny her fear. it feels as though braxigar has leeched mina of all of that which made her she; her steel and her voice, a young woman with nerve reduced to eyes lined by shadows and fingers which quiver of their own accord. has he turned her into this? no, not just him. it is the truth of what she left home to discover, how could she believe she might survive it all unscathed? her eyes never were prepared for all that they have seen, since. “surely it is doomed.” she says quietly, her voice a small thing curled up in her chest as a rabbit in a hole. despite it all, mina’s eyes hold onto the gaze of lord kaelen, a refusal to appear meek though it is all that she feels when he is near. “i used to think i wanted it, but i know better now.” her resolve snaps like a twig underfoot, and she closes her eyes as though warding against a headache. pain feels constant, exhaustion weighing down her tired limbs. “i will not. my place is not upon that chair.”
an ache had settled in asharok daughters chest at the absence of her closest friend . it had been too long since she had clung to mina like a child , like a cub never wishing to leave their mothers side . six whole months had passed since she had travelled to braxigar on her father's words . six months since the title of heir had been stripped away from her , for her to become a chess piece in a game none quite understood . citrine hues sparked as she saw her however and with quick strides she'd found herself right in front of her , tears stinging within her orbs of light .
she seemed distant , her lips pale , the moonlight in her locks faded to a grey and worry came forth . had the one she believed strongest in this world fallen prey to an unknown illness ? had braxigar cursed her or taken hold of her very skin ? " i said i missed you . " trembling words left smiling lips of pink , fingertips ran through former moonlight locks the opposite of her own , now frail and damaged . " let us go somewhere we can be alone . " she murmured before taking her closest companions hand , her heart filled with worry and discomfort . what had happened ? where had her mina gone ? " someone will pick up your things later , let us go to my chambers .. "
it has been so long since chantara was last by her side. how she has always loved her dearest friend, but never so much as she does now. aching for the childhood spent by her side, her head of onyx curls tumbled across mina’s lap as they had lain together watching the clouds above them for hours on end. time had passed so blissfully back then, as airy as a summer’s day. even as they grew older, the pair remained inseparable, their friendship seemed to glow with a golden light which she reaches for now like a flower wanting for the sun. frowning, mina tilts her head and her gaze feels held captive by chantara’s, there she finds the glassiness of tears shimmering back at her. “why do you cry?” she asks, her voice a tender thing despite the heaviness lurking behind her gaze. “i missed you, too.” to feel her friend’s fingers in her hair is like a breath of relief, how it pushes free of her full, pale lips and it feels as though mina’s heart might beat once more. she follows chantara to her chambers, uncharacteristically quiet and so unlike the spirited woman who had waved goodbye to her friend from her carriage, grinning and full of purpose. here, she moves towards the fire and holds her pale hands to its warmth, soaking in it. these days, it’s as though her limbs are ever frozen. “it is not safe,” she says quietly, voice flat as her gaze remains upon the flickering of the fire. “you do not know what comes for us, chantara. would that i would take your hand and run far… far from here.”
Since childhood, Mina had ever been the north star illuminating her night sky, leading her the way. That is, until Braxigar had extinguished her luminescence. This is not the sister she knows; fair as snow, strong as steel, and possessing the true qualities of a Kaelvorn daughter born amidst ice and fire.
“Nothing of importance,” Lenore says after a careful pause. Though they have never been overly affectionate with one another, their kinship expressed in subtler ways, Mina has never been in the habit of brushing her words aside. “I merely asked if your travels were uneventful. With the news of the selection spreading, it seems all Hollows are in a state of frenzy. We viewed some spectators along the road, and I believe one even attempted to block our carriage, though for what reason I cannot say.”
Stepping closer, Lenore reaches out and loosely holds her sister’s wrist, measuring the lethargy of her pulse like the fading note of a faint requiem; a swan song that goes unheard. To disguise the gesture, she moves her bare fingers down to interlink with Mina’s gloved ones. “It is good to see you, sister, even in such unfavorable circumstances,” Lenore says, veiling her true meaning beneath a double entendre.
A bystander might think she speaks of their cousin, but they would be mistaken. Valerian Kaelvorn’s only achievement of note is his untimely demise, reduced to a morsel in the jaws of his own dragon, and the thought she never speaks rings thus: perhaps the former crownwearer has served his realm best by perishing.
her exhaustion is this great, yawning chasm. it is a sea of blackness, the space between the stars which, at times, are the lady’s only source of light. it is no wonder that monsters haunt her dreams, clawing at skin which was one of steel, but feels as breakable as porcelain. the lady mina has always been told that she is pretty as a doll, but a few months in braxigar have made her breakable as one, too. she feels a damsel, and her knight would be the woman she had been mere moons ago, steeled and brave, her mind sharp, her will strong. though, that person feels as far away from her now as the stars which remain her only comfort. a few blinks of long lashed eyes, a glassy blue gaze reaches for lenore as they are trained to do, and mina feels her chest swell. “my sister… my heart.” she breathes, and there is something of herself still trapped in the prison of her frail body, for she looks protectively over her younger sister, ensuring her safety. for a moment, mina’s gaze casts around for the man who has welcomed her graciously into his home, who feels a captor despite the truth of it being that she may leave whenever she wishes. perhaps it is the darkness that holds her there, pressed beneath the weight of responsibility. none of them will ever know what it is to look death in the face, and she prays with trembling hands that her family never will. “i slept for much of it, lenore.” she admits, a frown furrowing the space between her brows. she has always been pale, but now she is near ghostly. mina does not care for this version of herself, for the meek have always alluded she whose will and determination had earned her a reputation for being someone unshakeable. they had all wondered what it might be like when a woman such as her should take the seat she has now handed over to her sister. swallowing, she feigns strength and lifts her chin, pale gaze dropping to lenore’s delicate fingers pressing against the fragile skin of her wrist. had she never gone to braxigar, mina would be all abuzz for being in moira. her heart would be a hummingbird rather than a death rattle, and her skin would be flushed with the prospect of all that awaited her. there is no such life in her, now. “and you, sister. it feels as though eons have passed since i left.” a small, tight smile and a sadness behind her words. mina does not belong, any longer. "i only wish that this weren't such a temporary reunion.
it was in silence as he watched mina practice. the court yard was bright, so much so it nearly hurt his dark eyes. not something he usually had to deal with back home, something he dearly missed. the darkness that was. there was a certain weight to the air of home that he cherished. it’s what had him understanding that he was not one to yearn for the skies or the back of a dragon. dante was one made for the earth. to be buried deep one day. well, perhaps that was the original thought but now he hoped to find his ashes mixed in the wind… he could suppose then, that a good wind would be welcomed.
“unless you can read minds, my friend,” he began softly, shifting in his spot, his body long since relaxed from his own early morning training. “i have said nothing,” was added as he smirked ever so slightly, looking to the silver haired women fondly. she had only been in the braxigar lands for a little over 6 months and yet, the noxerian was thankful for her presence. a breath of cold air seemed to arrive when she did. one he welcomed.
“i was simply contemplating how lovely it would be to be ashes on the wind…” perhaps it was macabre, but those sorts of statements were not odd for him to male, even more so to her in particular. "and how annoyingly bright it is...." that was a strong phrase, of course. the sun was not their companion for a very long time now but, there was something of moira keep that was brighter than home, it made him crave asharmal..
her friendship with dante is a warmth within the chilly depths of braxigar. a glow such as the sun, though it might be ironic when much of their time is spent stolen away in the shadows, speaking of death and of what comes after. it’s a fascination to the lady kaelvorn, all of the stiff coldness of her own limbs reflected in the dead which seem to surround her on all sides. it should be terrifying to behold, but it is only the possibility which frightens mina. there is so much more to come, she swears that dante shoulders such a burden alongside her, and for that, she has found a rare glimmer of comfort in her new home. “perhaps that is the next step in my training. lord garramoth has much to teach me, yet.” she jests, though there is a weariness in her voice which is entirely new to the outspoken, would be heir to house kaelvorn. she does not miss her title, but the woman who had worn it before braxigar opened up a chasm within her. she grieves her opinions and the steadiness of her short, pale fingers. she wishes for sleep, for rest from shadows and from terrors which wake her, screaming, in the night. “how morbid.” she returns, though there is a secret smile on her lips reserved for only him. this is her world, now. to joke of death, for there is only fear otherwise. frowning, mina tilts her chin towards the clouds. in truth, the bright sky is an ache against her eyes which have grown accustomed to the dark, but she welcomes it all the same. it reminds her that there is a world outside of braxigar, and she may yet return to it. “it’s nice to have even a few hours of sunlight, don’t you think? we cannot dwell in the darkness, always.” she remarks as she sets aside her weapon with ease, such contrast to the far away fragility of her gaze. “do you miss home already?”
open to — all
location — courtyard
it is nice to hold her face up to the sky, for the air does not feel so heavy here. pale as the moon, mina kaelvorn’s famous beauty is withering upon dry lips, eyes darkened by shadows and her once glimmering hair which had shone like spun silver, hanging limply from the scalp which she tears at in her sleeplessness. perhaps her time in moira castle shall be enough to awaken the woman she had been mere months ago, though she feels so far away now. powerful and brave, her mind swift and sharp as the steel she learns to swing, for she knows now what is coming for them all.
her pale fingers are gloved, wringing mindlessly at one another as she watches the world come to life in the early morning. it is a comfort to watch them all as they are milling about, but only then does a face come into view, do lips move though the sound of the world around her slows its journey to her ears. her head tilts, silver strands tumbling over shoulders which have shrunk in her time away. she blinks slowly, once and then twice. “did you say something?” she asks, tongue darting out to lick at lips which were once pink, plump, a factor of her beauty. “it is strangely loud at this time of morning. everyone is so busy.”
𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿 : 𝗸𝗮𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵 & 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 : 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗻𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 : 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘂𝗹
something about returning to moira castle outside of doing council business feels nostalgic and foreign to the ruling lord garramoth . there's a sense of worry for the son he's tossed into the chaos of the council , but also a feeling of freedom the ruling lord hasn't felt since he was a boy . standing in the throneroom he looks at the empty seat , wondering which unfortunate soul will be placed on it next , only to walk with puppeteer strings attached to themselves . his arms are crossed over his chest , the motion of someone approaching stirs him ever so lightly . " and here i was hoping for some peace and quiet , who may i ask also wished to look upon an empty throne before it's new owner is chosen ? "
once, she had thought she might wish to be crown wearer. mina is nothing if not ambitious, a piece of sharpened steel beneath the porcelain skin of one so fair. but now it is as though sheer castle is chipping away at all of those pieces of her which had stood so strong, a piece of marble reduced slowly to rubble as she reads and she trains, as she does what she was sent away to do, though her sleepless nights force her to fall behind and into the very darkness she has walked into so willingly. rest has finally returned to her beyond braxigar, it is as though a breath has released itself and mina can settle within her weary bones, if only for the short time of reprieve she might spend here in moira castle. her eyes remained fixed upon the empty throne, her thoughts a storm she stumbles through, each one comes slower the longer she spends in the depths of sheer castle. and then he is there. he is like the creeping dread she has felt all along, given life. he is cold as a shadow, and he is always near. she should be learning from him, but mina is so preoccupied by thoughts of the dead and of what lurks in the dark, that it has drifted so idly from her unwinding mind. she looks to him, and pulls back the hood of the cloak she wears, revealing the lengths of silver tendrils falling down her back, it is how the world comes to know her at first; that girl with the white hair. had it once been golden? has she turned silver, and mad in her short time away? “it is only me, my lord.” her voice is hard despite the doughy softness of her resolve. “i am wondering, as i’m sure we all are, who the sorry soul to next sit upon this throne shall be.”
𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘦
—(••÷ [ EMILIA CLARKE , CIS WOMAN , SHE/HER ] in the darkness you arrive , it seems MINA KAELVORN has emerged from malriths embrace. the LADY OF YVERHALD KEEP , brings with them such passion in their wake and they are known for being RESILIENT but also ARROGANT. the bloodmoon shines when the THIRTY year old joins the war. what songs would be sung in their name ? [ HOW COLD LOVE IS + FONTAINES DC ] for in the decades to come they will speak of : the stars that watch and only listen , a rotting heart held within a frigid fist , in another universe i am loved and i know it . may your journey bring fruit , welcome to nocturnia forgotten one.
GAME OF THRONES Season 4 Episode 1 — Two Swords