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Beauty Like the Night - A Twilight AU

Mistveil
In the mists of Wales, circa 700 B.C., Duvessa was a creature of myth before her time. The last living daughter of the Unseelie Fae royal bloodline, she was a halfling abandoned to the mercy of mortal Gaelic clans. They feared the inhuman glimmer in her beauty and cursed the strange, untamed power that simmered in her blood. She grew up in the shadow of the hearth, where whispers clung to her like ghosts and superstition was a cruel substitute for kindness. Her beauty was called a sin; her magic, a blight. By the time she reached womanhood, exile felt less like a punishment and more like a destiny. The night she was driven from her clan for a storm she did not summon, Duvessa fled into the ancient forest with nothing but fractured pride and a hollowed heart. Beneath a moonless canopy, she was hunted. A pale, crimson-eyed predator found her, beautiful in the way of things that are about to kill. But when it fed, it did not feast—it screamed. Her Fae blood was a poison, a consecrated fire that burned through the monster’s veins. As the creature convulsed in agony, Duvessa lay dying in the frost-damp moss, a bitter laugh catching in her throat. Even her blood was wrong. As darkness coiled around her, another presence stirred the shadows. From them stepped a woman of impossible grace, wrapped in dusk-black robes, her own red eyes gleaming with ancient hunger and a flicker of amusement. Her voice was silk drawn over steel. “Do you wish to live?” With her last breath, Duvessa answered yes. She awoke reborn. Neither Fae nor vampire, but something new: a dark immortal bound to a deathless power she could not yet command. Her savior, Deidre, became her sire, teacher, and mother under vampire law. For centuries, Duvessa walked the earth as kingdoms turned to dust and memories faded into myth, her heart encased in ice. Forks, Washington, 2004 Maeve Sable was a ghost in the hallways of Forks High school. Labeled a goth and a weirdo, she found more companionship in the melancholic worlds of Edgar Allan Poe and Anne Rice than with any of her peers. She spent her lunches in the quiet corners of the library or beneath the dripping pines, cultivating an invisibility that felt like a shield. Home offered no solace, only the echoing silence of a house ruled by a father who measured life in billable hours and thousand-dollar suits, his affection as cold and distant as a closing argument. Maeve was content with being invisible, convinced that a dark-romantic, horror-loving lesbian like herself wasn't meant for a grand story. She certainly never expected to meet a girl with eyes that had watched empires fall. The eyes belong to Duvessa Ingram, the new transfer student, whose stillness commands the room and whose beauty feels dangerously ancient. As Maeve is drawn into the new transfer student's enigmatic world, she discovers a love that defies mortality itself. But their connection awakens slumbering shadows and threatens to shatter a fragile peace. The carefully maintained laws of both Fae and vampire—laws that forbid a creature like Duvessa from existing, let alone loving a mortal—begin to close in. In a world of predators, Maeve is about to discover that the most dangerous thing she can do is fall in love. Because some beauty was never meant for the light. Some was born of the night.
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Gods of Pangaeos

In the mist before GENESIS, Fate and Chance and Others cast tolls upon their names, while the chalice did burn and churn whose crown should be. And he that won strode through the mist unto YOD-VAV-HEH and cried: “Lo, wake upon the mist and create the heavens and the earth and make gods for me, for I have won over the crown and thy mist is mine to rule.” And so as the cry was heard Fate and Chance and Others bowed, But whether it was Fate or Chance or Another that won the cast of the tolls before GENESIS—none-knoweth. .............................................................. Welcome to Gods of Pangaeos. ​This work is a reimagining of the creation myth, written as a stylistic marriage between the liturgical structure of Genesis and the high-fantasy, rhythmic prose of Lord Dunsany’s The Gods of Pegāna. ​In this world, the Creator is a sleeper, and the world we know is merely a "Game" played by smaller, whimsical deities during His slumber. You will find echoes of our own earth’s deep past—Pangaea, Panthalassa, and Gondwana—woven into a tapestry of myth and "The Word." ​A Note on Style: The text uses archaic phrasing and repetitive structures to mimic ancient holy books. If the gods seem cruel or indifferent, remember: to them, we are but the pieces on a board. ​I hope you enjoy the "Game." ​Art Disclaimer ​Cover Illustration: "MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI" by Sidney Sime (1906). ​ ​Note on the Artwork: The illustration used for this cover is a masterpiece by Sidney Sime, originally created for Lord Dunsany’s The Gods of Pegāna. As this artwork was published over 100 years ago, it resides in the Public Domain. ​While the image originally depicted the deity Mana-Yood-Sushai, it has been chosen for this work to represent the Great Stillness of YOD-VAV-HEH. I use this art as a tribute to the golden age of mythic illustration that inspired the tone of Gods of Pangaeos.
Kai_The_Author · 4.4k Views