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Triple Goddess Decal Triple Moon Triskele Moon Goddess | Etsy Australia


𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔢...
- Darkling ☽☾ Moon Child ☽☾ Witch-Bitch ☽☾ Conduit -


Chaos was her middle name.

A child of untapped potential, Knoxley always knew she was different. From an early age, it became apparent to the coven elders just how different she really was. Unlike the other  gifted youngsters, Knoxley's magic didn't come from learned spellcasting or potion making. She wasn't taught how to use her magic, she just knew. And this meant that she was incredibly dangerous. To herself and to those around her. Her potential wasn't fully realized until the eve of her twelfth birthday. When the full moon was at its peak in the cloudless, starry sky. 

Knoxley didn't know what was happening at first. 

It happened so quickly. Her pre-pubescent body thrummed under the moon's silky beams and with it her magic flourished and grew, encasing her body in a swollen aura of pulsing energies. The color bled from her irises until the whole of her eyes were milky white and two staggered pairs of horns jutted from the forefront of her skull. Knoxley had evoked the Nether-beast, a creature from the Netherworld that fed on chaos and the suffering of human and supernaturals alike. 

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠... Thou shalt not kill... 

When the moon peaked and the winds stilled, only one was left standing. Knoxley's ribbon-thin frame overshadowed the dismembered corpses of everyone she'd once known and loved, her mother included. 

𝔇𝔞𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔡 ☽☾ 𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

Lustrous white hair cascades to the small of her back, her skin smooth as polished marble however littered with hundreds of thin scars. Deep set orbs of mercury silver stare vacantly at her victims, cold and almost predatory in nature. Acrylic talons are a delightful little addition to skeletal hands. High cheekbones, full lips, a pixie-ish nose and a jawline carved to perfection make up her physiognomy. 

Knoxley also has a scattered pieces of ink tattooed into her flesh. Piercings included. A willowy frame bleeds from narrow shoulders towards an even narrower waistline. She's quite petite to some. To others she's skin and bone.

💀 She's not as fragile as she appears. 💀


Firefly Graphics — Moon & Stars Glitter Dividers



'Where the fuck is your God now?' 



Andronikaplotting (inbox)





 Author's Note~

 RL drama stays at the door! 

 Knoxley is an Original Character.
Established mid-2020.

  The actions of my character do not reflect on who I am as a person.

 All images belong to their rightful owners. 
I do not claim them as my own. 
They are merely there to give reference to a fictional character.

 Important: Please be patient! There will be times when the muse is high and there will be times when the muse is low or non-existent! Doesn't mean I'm disinterested in the threads, however it does mean that her muse is temperamental and sometimes I wanna beat her up if she doesn't cooperate. Forgive me! 




Firefly Graphics — Moon & Stars Glitter Dividers


October 31

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Paragraph, Multi-Para, Novella

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Fantasy, Romance, Violence, 18+, Gore, Action, Adventure

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  • [Hello! I adore your profile, even though you've said it's under construction. I think it's so pretty and the font is just... Mwuah! I had to send a friend request. I'm super interested in your character and writing with you if you're open!]

  • It has been an extremely hot minute, please forgive me for my absence please. 

  • Bear with me! Profile is a work in progress.

  • Energy vibrates through his blood stream with every piece of clothing he strips out of. Once the keys to the bike are tucked into the jeans pocket, he tosses them to the side. He’ll find it all later. For now, all he wants is the freedom that comes with the shift. Shirt thrown this way, socks a different way until his feet hit the snow with an audible hiss. It’s a shock to his system that makes him suck in deeper and deeper breaths, broad chest heaving as he looks up to the moon. 

    For anyone who isn’t subject to the moon’s allure, they can’t understand the light’s caress. The mystery hidden in the dark side or the beauty of her front. They don’t feel the pull the way the ocean and wolves do. They can’t comprehend the incoherent thoughts that come from it, pulling strings and instincts like they are marionette’s. The Lokoi do. They are one of the many shifters that feel it’s undeniable compulsion and willing to give in. 

    Run.  It calls to him and he greedily gives in. Stark naked, long legs stretching to take him further and further. He pumps his arms at his side. Feeling the way the crisp winter air stings in his human lungs. It invigorates him. Blue eyes turn glowing gold first. With a wicked grin, he leaps into the air, over a fall tree and shifts. 

    The transformation is quick. A blink of moonlight that glows through him, illuminating every ounce of flesh, sinewy muscle, and tattooed markings. All his bones seem to audibly crack at once as his form curls in on itself. An ominous growl rips through him until as he is close to colliding with the earth, paws replace hands and feet. Snow crushes beneath the paws that replaced his hands and feet.  With a speed as fast as his motorcycle, Viridian relishes in the way he awakens when in his wolf form. 

    With an uncontained joy, Viridian skids to a stop, throwing back his head and howling into the air. It is a long note, deep and pure animal. Everything is sharper. Smells tease him. Sights ignite him. The wind in his fur soothes him. It is it’s own melody that his blood sings to and he mirrors with a second howl to the moon. The second pull of the night burrows deep in his chest when he looks up at the moon a second time. 

    Run…Run, this way…he can hear it calling and unable to ignore the Instinct, he follows. Bounding off across the forest until a faint static buzz irritates his ears. 

  • Winter has descended over Bucharest with a wave of frost and cold. Snow has yet to descend on the land or leave anything significant enough for the full moon to illuminate as it begins to rise over the horizon. Sun set hours ago, painting the city in darkness with only the mysterious glow of the lamp lights to beckon people out. But it makes no difference. Viridian drives his motorcycle to the outskirts of the city where rural and more rolling hills meet to welcome any traveling wanderer too. Not many would venture out in this cold, but the restlessness makes his skin itch. 

    Fingers tap needlessly against brake and clutch handles. Driving the motorcycle is all he can do to stop himself from bouncing his leg in anticipation. Every full moon for a year, he has come out here to run shed his human skin for his wolf pelt. To run freely. Without worry. To be connected again with his kin. While distance separated them and harsh words and bitter feelings hung between him and his clansmen, here Viridian could forget about that. 

    At least, so long as he also allowed himself to forget Giovanni running next to him, in between trees, and playing, hunting, or sparring. With the wind against his frame, he takes in a few deep breaths as he drives. The air growing crisper, cleaner, and more freeing as he moves away from the limits human eyes place on him. Lupanar is his favorite time of the month. While he is not restricted to only change forms during a full moon, Viridian has chosen this twist of his nature for himself. It is both a cage to remind him of what Giovanni is going through and a way to forget: to attempt to leave his wolf nature behind. 

    Not like it works. He is a Lokoi to his core. The very nature he was born under traps him in this state too for he could never forget his roots. Turning off the main road, the bike’s headlight sheds light on the dirt road and the shadows in between the towering norway spruces. Every tree that passes another memory rises: 

    Giovanni’s muzzle rubbing against his own… 

    Giovanni running beside him as they hunt a herd….

    Giovanni’s firm callused hands on his skin, running down his abs…

    Giovanni’s hands soaked in blood….

    Two heartbreaking howls in the night…

    Viridian pulls the motorcycle to a sudden stop, grinding his jaw. He’s far enough off the main road this will have to do.For the sake of his clothes and having something to wear rather than riding in the nude later, he begins to strip. Each twist of his arm or kick of his leg is more violent than the next. Tonight’s one of those nights where he’ll have to run longer, harder, faster to block out the memories…

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