#ofsunliight

[volturileader-blog]

💌

💌 for a letter my muse would write to yours.

Letter dated September, 456 BC

Antony,

I went hunting today, with you. I’m not sure how long it has been since I left the Lamias, time is so fluid. But it struck me today, as I was hunting. A pretty little shepherdess, her long dark hair hanging down her back in braids. She can’t have been more than fifteen. You would’ve enjoyed her, I think.

When I touched her, I saw nothing. Felt nothing. I haven’t seen such a thing since I met you, dear friend. It was refreshing, to have someone I could touch so freely, without fear of their emotions and thoughts crowding my own. You were an excellent reprieve, as was this young human. I kept her alive for a moment, but soon she bored me. You never did, your antics were always… amusing.

I admit, I miss you Lamias. I am happy in my new life, the Volturi are beginning to grow – that’s the name we’ve chosen. I picked it myself, of course. I am in Greece at the moment, I longed for home, but my coven is much more at home in Italy. Your family should join us sometime, see the tower we’ve begun creating.

I hope you’re all well. Has Alethea changed her mind about her diet yet? Is Ama still furious with me? And are you still up to your usual mischief? 

The years go by, dear friend, and yet I hear little from any of you. Don’t let too much time go by – fiery anger will lead to cooled friendship, and that would be a great loss. You approved of my coven, and once upon a time, we were friends. Let’s not forget that.

Write soon,

Aro.

[anathcmata-blog]

@ofsunliight

                            One could only run for so long before fatigue                             overtook them. They hadn’t known where their                             destination lied, but anywhere away from                             Tevinter had to be better right?

                            They had their doubts.

                            Several of them, in fact, which resulted in them                             coming to a slow and glancing back. They only                             ever escaped with their life due to sheer luck.                             Going back was nothing more than a death                             sentences-- but so was heading onward.

                            Miron had licked their lips, turning sour at                             what might come down the road. Their wounds                             still stung their skin, throbbing to a point where                             gripping their arm tightly seemed to be the only                             way to dull the sensation. Who was to say they                             still weren’t being pursued after. Knowing how                             long they’d fled for, possibly hours at best guess,                             there laid doubts that one lone slave was worth                             this much trouble of chasing after this far.

                            Or maybe they were underestimating the willpower                             of a small group of angry Tevinter mages.

                            That thought alone sent a shiver down their spine.                              Miron had to wonder what became of their Master.                             There was no doubt that Demon he’d summoned                             would gladly overtake a dying man. Perhaps that                             was what caused the surge of panic in the first place.                             They’d always assumed it was them, running with                             with blood soaked daggers. Perhaps both were                             liable reasons. Either way? They caused this.

                            They were the one who stabbed their keeper and                             left him to rot. A heavy feeling festered in their                             stomach. They wanted so desperately to be                             angry- to feel their actions were justified in every                             way, and yet...?

                            Either way, it seemed they were going to meet                             their end. But the thought of dying with some                             semblance of freedom seemed that much sweeter.                             Heavily exhaling, they finally pressed on, sticking to                             their plan of hiding behind anything and everything                             they could find while heading what they assumed                             wasWest. If only their plan had taken into account                             that wandering around covered in blood and open                              wounds would make them far from unnoticeable                             to whomever might have been passing by.

[keranofkirkwall-blog]

@ofsunliight

The young man stands in front of Jane.

He has blonde hair and blue eyes and wears the heavy armour with the indifference of one who grew up in it. At his left he has a sword. 

He salutes Jane, his words calm when he speaks

“Hello, ma’am. I am Keran. I have been sent by your lord Father as your personal bodyguard. You’ll find all the information in the letter I have given you.” He adds, indicating with his head toward the closed parchment with the House’s symbol.

Then the warrior waits, patiently.

[pvgnator-blog]

thedas aesthetics: jane & alistair

for @ofsunliight

[theeternalsun]

A magister that did charity to the less fortunate in the underbelly of the city was something rare, many elves thought that it was a sign of chance. See how the beautiful magister comes down to offer food without the need to anything in return, look at how golden her hair is and how perfect her skin. Why did she lower herself to help us if we are not her slaves. From the priestess’ lips a growl left as her teeth gritted under her hood. But she had heard the whispers from her own eyes and ears that lived closer to said golden magister. The priestess wondered how could she sleep at night without pride demons prowling the vicinity.

The priestess was fine with the elves being seen as nothing, she was almost fine with them believing such a thing. For now, it worked in their favour. Their hands over the food of the magisters were seen as kind and caring, not as potential weapons, their words simple music in the background, not important. Their faces the same to the other, and it was fine. It was not true and in time they would see it, but for now... The priestess would work with it.

She approached where the magister was, delivering food to small children that approached her carefully and ran after they got what they wanted. She did not belong there. 

“Hm... I do wonder...” her voice left as a whisper in a calm tone as she took another step forward, standing beside the human. Half of the face covered with the black cape that covered her rich robes “Should I get the skinny one or the one with beautiful eyes? Should I get the one with that amazing scar across their chest or the one as white as snow?...” her tone grew more aggressive as the words left her lips, scarred and tattooed hands moved to the curve in her back showing the golden owls in the bands that covered her wrists. The elves that surrounded her now stopped and looked at the priestess, lowering them afterwards and moving away. Back to their day, back to the routine. My poor Children, how bent are your back? “Do you not get tired of pretending to care, little magister?”

Not a magister, not yet, just a noble being groomed to do so. Oh such a future filled with corruption inside the crumbling walls of an empire that should have fallen already. 

;; @ofsunliight​

[ofhealiing-blog]

ofsunliight

“You know what we should do?”

[ofhealiing-blog]

ofsunliight

“Eli I need you to sing Jasmine’s part of A Whole New World with me it’s important.”

[ofhealiing-blog]

ofsunliight

[text]: el pls come home now

[text]: if ur grounded again im gonna be so boooooooored