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Luv

Creative Wizard
  • Content Count

    2,519
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2,245 Divine

About Luv

  • Rank
    Oprah Winfrey crying into a lean cuisine.
  • Birthday 11/16/1999

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    Luvvy#2390
  • Website
    https://www.planetminecraft.com/member/beluved/

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Female
  • Location
    In the limelight.
  • Interests
    Roman Catholicism, Witcher 3, and Pro-life Klan Rallies

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Philippa
  • Character Race
    Heartlander

Recent Profile Visitors

84,781 profile views
  1. Best not be coughin’ ion want no Corona! Where Dohvi at, needa lesson from Delonna?! 

  2. This is my truth. Once upon a time he asked me for videos of me putting my dirty unwashed feet into a bucket of mayonnaise, I believe it was some sort of perverse kink, and in return he’d accept the Frost Witch lore. 

    1. Goblinberg

      Goblinberg

      why didn’t you do that,,,,

  3. I been called that.

  4. Luv

    Frozen and Fading

    this made me ******* cry
  5. Luv

    Frozen and Fading

    https://youtu.be/lk_4l4qGlzc “The coven is dead, mother-” Eileen uttered, wheezing the words through trembling lips, “I tried… I wanted to be the one that saved them. Believe me when I say… I tried.” The witch sat in the darkness of the woods as her blood caked hand tugged some of her dreaded white locks away from her face. If tears could fall one could be certain they would rain. She’d weakly rise to her feet using the tree beside her to assist her. She’d place a hand against the wound of her left shoulder, without an arm once more. Her eyes gave off no light in the darkness of the night as once more she’d lost her sight. The battered and beaten witch stumbled through the darkness as her stomach grumbled violently. Her shaking form tripped over a root and sent her down to the earth with a meek whimper escaping her chapped lips. Eileen’s head pounded with the sound of screaming men and the tearing of flesh. The smell sat in her nose and burned her face as her hunger was relentless. She’d make a weak attempt to get back on her feet as she’d hear the sound of a snapping branch. Her head violently shifted in the direction of the noise as she let out a hiss. The man raised his hand towards her and readied his hand on the hilt of his blade. His fingers tightened around the leather as he swiftly released the silver from its sheath. In that instant the witch’s form turned and began to run through the woods, but the poor woman could barely stay on her feet. The man moved with haste after her, and more came from the darkness behind her. The men yelled for one another and the witch could sense them closing in on her. She made a break for the clearing to her left, a black feline broke into the grass and a bright blue flame erupted in its eyes as it shot small balls of crystalline hellfire at the nearest man, sending him to his knees and crying out in agony. The cat’s voice boomed in her skull as it ran ahead of her, taking the lead. “Run, Master, they’re coming!” The cat turned back and jumped into her right arm as her foot connected with soft soil, the bank of the river. A cold wind escaped her lips as the water froze beneath her feet, but before she could make it further an arrow met her shoulder and sent the duo into the water. A desperate cry escaped her as the current swallowed them and the rage of the river took them into its mercy. “Eileen!? Where are you?! Please, please, no!” Her faithful familiar, cried for her as the small cat struggled to stay afloat. Its bright blue eyes looked about for the witch as her blood left an eerie trail in the waves. Soon her head rose to the surface and her right arm violently thrashed about - she was never the strongest swimmer. Three men ran along the water’s edge in pursuit. The cat swam over to her and dug its claws into her skin and moved to sit on the back of her head, letting out a series of cries and guided her to the other shore, and weakly she drugged herself from the stream. Two arrows met the sand beside her, but relentless she rose and began to move once more. A blade met her leg as she reached the treeline, but her sharp nails reached his throat in recoil. The man’s blood bubbled through his throat and he fell to his knees. The smell of his demise sent the woman’s body in a series of spasms - she fell beside him and raised her hand to her lips. “Please, Eileen, fight. Please, don’t leave me hear alone!” The cat’s voice once more rang in her ears, Both, her familiar sent by Zathairn. She’d grown to love him, no matter how prissy he may have been. She couldn’t let him down. She tore her attention back in front of her and once more followed the guidance of the cat. Her wounds dripped from her body and stained the ground below them. She could hear the other two just behind her, the witch weakly stumbled through the trees as fast as she could, but she was certain of what was in store. She grabbed the back of the cat’s neck with her hand and threw him aside into a bush, he cried out to her for the last time. “Eileen, please no!” “Run. My familiar, my friend, please… Run.” The next arrow hit her side as she screamed out in pain. Her body fell to the dirt and she used her arm to pull herself forward, but the second arrow landed in her back and her body curled in pain and a frantic screech raised from her throat. The sound of running boots surrounded her. Her head laid against the soil as a smile overtook her lips. Soon she’d see Vivec, Mother, and her fallen sisters. Soon she’d see the Toad, Thallon, and Adorellan, I pray that girl he fell in love with is somewhere sunny. She hoped she’d see Kokudam, Sloane, and Quadeer. She hoped Anna was somewhere safe, and that Lenniel wouldn’t be worried about her. That Maya would find her way and that Karyssmov finally found somewhere safe to rest his head. As the men came in on her she felt the torch land upon her back and the flames engulfing her grey skin. Cries and shrills of agony filled the air, but inside Eileen was at peace. She could hear the sobs of Both in her head, but she knew that had meant he was not in danger. The last thing that the Princess Estelle Ruric de Frey felt was the silver that met with her skull. The rushing current filled her ears for the last time. The current of the soul streamed, taking the witch off and away. (My apologies for the poor formatting, I’ll try and fix it tomorrow and add the pictures. Hope this was a good read! And, thank you to everyone who’s followed my witch’s story thus far!)
  6. somewhere far away a witch smiles at this bittersweet moment. +1
  7. When your groupies switch up 💀

  8. Will you go out with me? >///<

  9. Luv

    Helma & Wheezie

    A brown haired woman wrote frivolously in her journal as a small black cat made its way towards her side, curling up against her. The setting sun’s rays upon the dead trees cast very twisted and peculiar shadows along the wasteland in which they were. The woman raised her head and looked out before her. The armored remains of a soldier were only meters from her, littered with arrows and bloodstains. There were quite a few bodies the woman soon realized as her gaze scanned over the view before her. She’d shake her head softly before lowering her gaze back into the book and continuing her, assumed, notes. Another woman, dark haired, with pale features could be seen making her way towards the scribe. She finished shoving her own notebook into a backpack as she reached her companion, slinging it over her shoulder and leaning down to read whatever was being written. “Are you even sure that any of this stuff is going to make a difference?” Asked the crouching woman as her right brow slowly arched. Her eyes shifted towards the nearest corpse. “Better safe than sorry.” Replied the woman before closing her notebook and reaching for the feline beside her. As she rose to her feet she’d offer her partner a smile and began walking off. The other woman simply shrugged before following along.
  10. There’s a snake in my booty 🐍 @gab

    1. Malaise

      Malaise

      Delete this please.

    2. Luv

      Luv

      @Malaise What’s in it for me?

  11. Always looked up to you and thought you were a really nice dude. You're one of the few people who gave me a chance. I wish nothing but success and the best for you. I also wish for a signed copy of that New York times best seller 😉 xo
  12. The old man was in fact looking for sin where sin had not taken place. He's also suffering from some sort of illness as he most certainly wasn't present for the event written about, odd.
  13. The witch would outstretch both of her arms over the open tome, the pages stained with eldritch text. Her hands stretched aggressively as suddenly neon blue crystals rose from the scarlet letters, the geodes began to shift and flicker like a flame. The cavern would suddenly grow more quiet, or perhaps she stopped listening. The flames began to engulf the book and soon a very dark black smoke drifted from the fire, faintly. The witch's shoulders moved in forward as she almost fell into the book, but circled back up right. Her eyes felt heavy as the smoke began to violently plume from the book. Her eyes shut from the overbearing smoke until a voice suddenly caught her attention. "Failing lights amass one hundred sleepless nights-" Her eyes sprung open to reveal herself completely surrounded by the smoke, but she was in the cave no longer. The sounds of a weeping baby come from behind her as she'd turn to see a rather luxurious looking crib only meters away. She'd take a step forward before suddenly stuttering as her eyes went wide. She recalled that last time she'd done this with Vivec, how these are not dreams, but they are nightmares. The baby's voice suddenly shot up in pitch as it screamed, it's tears booming from all around her. Her blue eyes would cast a faint light along the white blank inside. She'd take a few slow steps forward and pressed her grey hand along the side, her thumb brushing against the white fur blanket. However, her gaze could not seem to make its way inside. The sorceress' lips would part before she'd release a shaky breath. A black haired woman with a dark black fur draping over her shoulders would stand behind Eileen with a soft gasp. Her right limb rose to rake her well pampered digits through the sleeked back white locks on the witch's head. "You cannot look at your own daughter, Estelle? She screams for you." The woman spoke through a haunting duet of a Norse accent and six feet of water.
  14. Y'all always bitchin' about the server lag...

  15. Luv

    Wanna share a can of spagettios? 🤗

    1. gab

      gab

      yeah haha !!! hehe i love spaghettios.! !!!

      FUCjK

      i spilled it on my shirt  .. . .. . ..  ) )) ) : oh no

    2. Luv

      Luv

      Don't worry!!! I'll get it!!!

      *sucks on the collar of Gab's shirt to get off the sauce*

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