Im cold and i need to change out of my outside clothes and get into bed but it's so difficult to get up from where i am lying on top of my blanket trying to gather warmth through osmosis
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I’ve been reading the Grishaverse books/watching the Netflix show for the first time over the past couple weeks or so and I just have to say that I think it's so funny whenever Kaz gets snarky about Inej's proverbs or Matthias's religious talk or Jesper’s Jesperisms or anyone else being even slightly philosophical or theatrical or whatever because Kaz Brekker is the most dramatic bitch in all of Kerch. Like. I'm pretty sure this kid graduated top of his class from the School of Dramatic One-Liners with a double major in "Commit to the Aesthetic" and "Writing Epic Love Poetry Whilst Maintaining the Bad Guy Reputation". Dude wanted to impress a girl and wasn’t sure if getting the whole ass king of Ravka to find her long-lost parents was enough so he bought an entire warship from his friend who absolutely would have just Given It To Him but noooooo Mr. Protecting-My-Investment over here had to pay a fair price otherwise it doesn’t count.
The only, and I mean the ONLY reason I don't say he's the most dramatic bitch in the entire Grishaverse is because Nikolai Lantsov exists and that man once wore his entire army uniform under his jacket to go volcra hunting in the Shadow Fold on the off chance he would get to make a dramatic reveal at the end. He put a spring-loaded curtain in front of the weapons rack on his personal ship just in case he had guests he wanted to show off for. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did the dramatic flourish every time he opened those curtains for literally no one but himself. I also wouldn’t be surprised if he made that set up after he had guests he wanted to show off for. That curtain either went up two hours before he used it or it was the first thing he built on that ship there is no in between.
I need copious amounts of Expo markers, PowerPoint slides, and glitter to figure out which one of them takes the title it is CLOSE.
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@cyneris, prompt, send a letter to the moon & stars ✧ ̖́- accepting !
↪[ dance ] sender whisks receiver onto to ‘ dance floor ’ ( can be actual or pretend ) / i would not be a true ☀️🌙 fan if i didn't send this 🤚 it would be a disservice to them and against everything i believe in 😿 it's what they deserve !
the world was aglow, or so it seemed within this grand castle belonging to one of caelustum's nobility, obnoxiously showing everyone who attended what he possessed. chandeliers swirled upon ceiling, their diamonds glittering and dancing upon the bodies of all who attended. and here they were, resident of the underground empire now within a land that once belonged to the skies, how fitting. figure wrapped in soft silken threads, gown carrying the colors of night, of kissed black & haunting blue: fading into something much darker downwards where it pooled around like the lunar sea itself. not even the soft glimmers that adorned layers of dress could match the ethereal hue that was much like a moon - kissed blush upon cheeks. pearls that were wrapped around bare shoulders & exposed back the perfect canvas upon which the stars that adorned body shined through, intricate tattoo's inviting to the eye, hypnotizing. rare it was for them to be out of uniform yet rare it was not for them to show up uninvited to a ball that was not meant for outsiders - here they wandered around as if they were part of the elite of a land that had once been unknown to them. and rare it was not for elyon to walk upon the very ground as if they were divinity itself, no matter how rotten & broken they truly were.
yet, was it too much for them to have sought him out ? was it too much for them to have kept their presence here a secret ? no, glossy tiers curve up into a secretive smile, no it wasn't. whatever they did he would always accept, look at the carnage and tragedy they left behind and call them a sight a behold. bared skin for them to sink serrated teeth into, taking him whole. the only person now and forever that would look at them and ask for their madness, their hunger, their hollowness. the only person that had looked at the abyss that was their soul and willingly stepped inside. no thought was paid to the crowd that had surrounded them the moment high heels had demanded attention with sound alone. words of praise, of wonder, of compliments and hope that the illusive moon would pay attention to a pack of rats they could care less about. nevertheless, elyon allows a gloved hand to be lightly held by a noble, glow within azure blue hues distant and unbothered, a cold moon deep within winter's night.
and then, oh then ! they feel him before they see him, soul core thrumming loudly and was it not a blessing that none of these people were attuned enough to the vampyre ( their magic ) that they could hear it sing ? there was a time where elyon despised the fact that stars would expose their thoughts whenever eyes laid upon a sorcerer of red, of the very flames that reigned inferno and danced with their own frozen fury, wrapped around their snow & ice and dared to kiss it gently yet with such fervor that elyon wished to simply drown in it. gold, harsh & blazing with the intensity of a thousand suns held their gaze, he who was born of glaring daylight [ ... ] of a welcoming dawn filled with the colors of crimson ichor itself. adorned in black and gold he was, their sundragon and how it thrills them that the crowd parts for him as if commanded by a silent order. a vision to behold ! never had they found another, anything else for that matter, to be beautiful but esra solheim was exactly that and more.
they have long forgotten the pests fighting to hold their hand, clinging onto it, hoping to gain their favor ( their attention ) but there would be no universe in which night incarnate would ever look away when day had risen. the world seems to fade away and fading away it did, carried by the confident strides of long legs, boots clicking upon marble floors, stygian cloak fluttering along and elyon has already started to move, abandoning admirers to the dust: high heels fall in step with esra, to meet him, and they need not even to extend hand for golden claws had found digits covered in the softest silk woven from night skies & wrapped within stark white jewelry crafted from an ending star with such ease ! elyon allows body to be twirled around, gown fluttering around form, held tightly by the sun who was unwilling to let them go [ and they would never want to either ... ] a full circle and elyon, gracefully, falls right into broad chest, eyes glowing with barely withheld amusement. ignoring the gasps and the whispering of a stunned crowd.
❝ you found me, esra solheim. ❞ it's breathed out before they feel esra's hand gliding down exposed back, trailing across dangling dawn - kissed pearls, feels the warmth he carried upon much colder skin; settling upon lower back while other still held their hand ever so tightly. i am not letting go. it's unspoken: it's why the azure mage nods lightly, already moving in tune with the pillar of caelestum's movements. the orchestra plays only for them, it roars when the sun and moon slide across the floor as if it were the very skies, it hums when they step in tandem; their colors melting together as if they were one ( perhaps they were, perhaps they always were ). when esra holds them tightly and dips them suddenly the laughter that escapes blood stained lips is one only born when with him. movements synchronized, in harmony, every time their eyes met elyon could see within it a tomorrow [ ... ] another day. the crowd had long disappeared from their mind, becoming one with the swirling surroundings, swallowed by the darkness that invaded the ballroom at behest of the mage. if there would be light let there be only upon a pair that found & chose one another. movements slow down slightly, enough for their arms to wrap around strong shoulders, hands finding one another to rest lightly against the back of esra' neck; swaying with tunes that would not stop until daylight would be permitted within the space once more.
❝ you always find me, don't you ? ❞ only meant for him to hear. it's habit the way elyon leans closer, it's habit the way esra meets them halfway, tips of noses brushing against one another. hello, again - stay longer this time. ❝ my darling dragon knight, ready to whisk me away at a moment's notice, i am thrilled. ❞ words barely leave lips or they're dipped once more, ink strewn locks dance along with the sudden movement; esra's laughter is like a warm bonfire, meant to warm up their frozen core, make a place for itself within the gaping hole that was their soul. he would never let them fall, ready to catch them, if need be with his own body and soul ( that much they knew ). he'd never let them fall and if, oh if they did, would he not fall with them ? opal dusted lids lower to hide the swirling blue that would expose the moon's secret: that they didn't mind being caught if it was by one born of heat and flame.
perhaps esra knew it too for when they were pulled up again they taste the warmth of his heart & devotion upon their lips and this they would never refuse for he could handle every touch of frost they gave him in return. maybe one day this particular mage could verbalize it, understand it exactly but had esra ever pushed them for an answer ? an explanation ? no, he held their hand, poured endless devotion into their skin and promised to never leave them - stay by their side in blood & ruin - the endless end. in return elyon promised to themselves they would offer him whatever he so much asked / and what if it was them ? oh, oh ! and so elyon presses tighter against the sun, allows the tunes of the orchestra to sink into their skin, hoping to carry over their own song into the one who's impact upon their life caught them first by surprise and then intentionally; to never be let go again: not even in eternal death.
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Two is a coincidence, but three is a pattern
I think it's time to admit I have a thing for intelligent/thoughtful characters who yearn for a better world, lose faith in humanity/the world, and decide the only way to fix it is basically genocide.
Bonus points for all of them having a character they're really really close to (borderline love interest, or actual love interest if you like Solavellan) who tries to talk them out of it with varying degrees of success.
Something about them just hits different.
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I feel rly weird around ppl w "maps dni" bc it just rubs me the wrong way that ppl equate others w those feelings to having committed an actual crime or done something otherwise bad for existing. It's like "bpd dni" or "intrusive thought havers dni" its all just thoughts i block people who make me uncomfortable thats it.
like its not my business what ppl r thinking yk. idc. also ive seen interviews n maps genuinely dont care/want to "invade the queer community" they know its a different thing ok. the fight to treat people like people is universal but the fight to do so for people whose thoughts you detest is closer to advocacy for unpalatable mental illness and general freedom to exist with badwrong thoughts than it is advocacy to be in a relationship with someone who can actually consent to you regardless of gender. Like. they know. everyone knows and if u think that would ever be a thing,, it wouldn't. the same way that groups for abortion rights are not the same groups you go to for idk trauma support.
obv sometimes its better not to post certain things even if its harmless text ppl will dogpile u and accuse u of things bc someone got triggered. but sue me if i dont think its a crime for ppl w badwrong attractions to exist and i think its weird that others think it is.
like im a sadist i know how this shit goes intimately. "killing and torturing people is bad." "yes." "you're a bad person and deserve to be hurt for it." "but i didn't kill or torture anyone and don't really plan on it?" "you're evil for even thinking or feeling it. you still deserve to be punished." "but i didn't DO.. ANYTHING??" "weirdo murder fetishizer is triggered lol xd get hit by a truck" "..." "ur disgusting and evil and you should kys for having badwrong thoughts." "but i'm not doing anything wrong." "idc ur a gross evil monster" "i have a feeling this isnt getting anywhere. bye."
^it's like y'all reach argument bedrock the moment someone drops the idea that you CAN HAVE "badwrong" thoughts and feelings that would be unethical to act on irl without acting on them or being a bad person by the simple sin of thinking them. this is puritan nonsense. all of you have thought "sinful" thoughts. all of you have wanted to do things that would be cruel or dangerous; because if you have a brain that just Happens, whatever the nature of the thought. If you want to yell at your kid that's fine, they're annoying you and you have every right to feel that way. If you actually yell at your kid you are hurting them and that's not OK. You want to go harass someone online because they said something stupid? Fine. You actually go and do that? Bad. how hard is this to understand. am i speaking alien.
also if u punch people and go to therapy for it you are not going with the goal of stopping this desire to punch people. you are going with the goal of finding ways to vent this feeling that dont hurt anyone and figuring out the root cause of it with your therapist to better understand how you can work together to prevent this from happening.
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So let’s say that Dipper never made the first move in Faking It- could they still have fallen in love?
Also father I crave whump!!! Take your time though, writing is hard :/
They would have! They were already dipping their toes into that particular water, Dipper making the first move just sped things along.
I think in an alternate scenario where Dipper didn't do the do, either: everything pans out the same with minor differences, OR: He's in a way less chipper mood when Ford arrives. Which means he's a lot more cagey with Ford, doesn't accompany his uncle when he breaks the curse. And since he didn't tell Ford where it happened, it comes out of nowhere when the thing's broken - but it's also done with less deadly intent. Which makes Bill (surprisingly, even to himself) alarmed, because, shit, Dipper just up and collapsed right next to him, did he just die? - and when Dipper survives despite the odds against him - Ford doesn't find out who Bill is, due to Dipper not wanting to hang out with him all that much.
Overall, these two idiots would be given a lot more time and space to bicker and argue and flirt for long enough that they get Domestic again, before they get freaky.
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