plots please!! please feel free to pick any from my list but off the top of my head you can spin: kell, freydís, kaghan, or adam!

▐ ⊹ ⁺ a little plotting meme ) ACCEPTING!

¹· zoya & kell: starring directly at your grishaverse for him rn i feel like there are 2 routes to take here considering i have a mess of canon verses for zoya within her universe. BUT i think having kell as a little palace instructor given his unique skillset could be an INTERESTING concept or better yet and he could be the zuko to zoya's aang and help her get a better grasp on her corporalki abilities post dragon shenanigans. ROUTE 2 would be more of a ketterdam-flavored situation. not sure how kamerov as an alter ego plays into this verse but if he is doing secret maybe evil illegal stuff for maresh family on the down low i think sapphire is a good person to have in his corner/ NOT THAT SHE WOULD BE SO WILLING!! she has to get something out of it but it compels me somehow

CONVERSELY i decide to flip the script and make zoya a black london antari because why not and i can finally get the corruption arc i always dreamed of out of her. this verse literally is vibes alone right now and i haven't thought about it until this very second but i would be willing to develop it more if it is something that interests you

²· zoya & freydís: you are gonna need to hold my hand i am so scared right now. i know literally nothing about god of war but what i gather is we are heavy on the norse mythology here (again, something else i only have surface level knowledge on ) BUT if there is some sort of way for pantheons to mingle here i have been toying with a slavic myth verse for zoya on the down low. she is champion of veles who is sent to hunt the god perun in somewhat of a rehashing of their timeless war against one another. so oops as a dragon she swallows an aspect of the storm god and gains some of his divinity and memory in the process. so this is kinda similar to having uhh memories that are not their own and having to deal with it they can relate 🤍

of course i am always down for a way to work a character into the grishaverse. obviously the concept of past lives and sainthood is a known convention already. i don't want to presume anything about freydís' status in universe but perhaps skaði was a saint of old once. they could possibly follow a similar path to zoya in terms of reawakening grisha magic prior to the establishment of orders/ when it became corrupted and cut off from its source.

we can also figure out a regular fantasy verse here i have so many Thots i am sure we will stumble on SOMETHING

³· zoya & kaghan: my little web-winged faeries my cinnamon apples. i feel like kaghan could possibly make her worse in this universe and i am 100% here for it. we threaded them a bit but i would be down to develop this concept further in terms of him coming to her aid post her father's death. i also remember me saying i thought it would be interesting if they had been childhood friends in this verse ( so very far back considering how old they both are lol ) but falling out of touch once juris decides to form his own court and essentially go rogue. the ethereal court is very much new amongst the long-standing higher courts which means this war with the spring court will either completely destroy is status and credibility or solidify it as a universal power amongst the high fae. it means a potential powerful ally for kaghan and also i know they would have mad banter am i wrong?

i was gonna suggest i make an ac.otar verse for her but do you really want that? be real with me. you would have to theysplain the universe to me and i'm pretty sure you are so divergent it wouldn't even make sense to bother with it. anyway i just want more kaghan trying to instruct her and give her council in a very volatile time. not sure what the broader implications of allying with the night court would be from a diplomatic standpoint so i would like to hear your take on that! is there gossip? is there oo'ing and ah'ing from the audience or is everyone hardcore judging her right now.

⁴· zoya & adam: witchypoos!! witchypoos!! i honestly can't see zoya working very well in a trc verse but when i figure it out i will let you know. although, so far i am enjoying them in an urban fantasy setting. we don't get to see adam interact with other witches after persephone's death so i think him and zoya forming more of a study group around magic seems NEAT. she could get into harvard i believe in her so consider a la ninth house ( you haven't read it i know but here me out ) they have their own little occult secret society where they probably tamper with dark forces they shouldn't.

they have a writing seminar 5pm but also a seance set for 7pm sometimes you just gotta bring your lavender scented candles with you to class! but for real i like the idea of them being hedge witches while they go to this prestigious university. it is formal education by day informal education by night. how very dark academia of them!

miss corazon once again i am ENAMORED WITH YOU. YOUR BLOG. YOUR WRITING. YOUR AESTHETIC. ALL OF IT IS 💕💕💕💕 top tier shit

IDA? please what a lovely message to wake up to 🥺 you are literally one of the sweetest people on my dash and i am just glad to have you around and in my orbit. i hope we get to write more together this year and chat 💗 thank you for always being such a kind and loving presence in this space <33

hello! i hope you don’t mind me asking who your favorite writers are, or writers you get most inspiration from? your writing is breathtaking and i’d love to take some notes x

hello anon ! definitely don't mind this question at all and thank you for the compliment i'm just glad anyone is reading my writing and enjoying the experience while they are it. as for inspiration and the like, i feel like i should preface this response by saying that all the writing i consume, while serving as inspiration, it is never my intention to replicate or directly emulate any of the writers/books i list below. even so i do think trying to mimic the writing style of other writers can serve as a good exercise for pushing oneself or exploring different methods of the craft but it shouldn't be the only kind of writing you do.  ultimately, you do yourself a disservice as a writer by not trying to find and refine your own narrative voice. 

that being said, when it comes to books and authors i turn to for inspiration and aspiration… there are a few and they range in genre and don't all fall into the fantasy realm squarely

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone is a book i CONSTANTLY find myself reaching for whenever i am in a slump. it is lyrical! it is weird! and it is a book that rather show than tell to a degree of utter obstruction. unfortunately, i haven't read much of these authors' other works so i cannot speak to them as a whole. but this novel in particular is such a short and gripping read i cannot recommend it enough 

tamsyn muir is another author who constantly floors me with her command over plot. this woman is a mastermind and she includes NOTHING in her stories that is unnecessary or does not serve the larger arc of the story. the way she writes is gross, funny, and visceral. truly it could not be further than the kind of writing i do on this blog but she is an author that constantly shows me the sky's the limit when it comes to what you can get away with writing wise, if you are bold enough to try! also that comedy writing is such a skill and the smarter it is the funnier it can get. 

recently i have been tasking myself with reading more poetry and not just novels. in my search i have come across the works of franny choi. she is subversive; she tackles heavy topics like race, gender, and mental illness in a way that cannot be described as anything less than pure emotion. she is also isn't too afraid to run with an animal motif either. "watch me kick / back to life. tentacles / & teeth. resurrected electric. revenge ━ squirming alive / in your mouth / strangling you quiet / from the inside out… "  these lines rewired my brain chemistry and i ordered her collection 'soft science' weeks ago and it has yet to arrived off the backorder list 💔

maggie nelson is another queer poet and author that writes in a way that holds nothing back. her poetry is not meant to be pretty; it minces no words. she gets straight to the point no fluff necessary. the argonauts and bluets are both books i read in college and have not left my brain since. both books focus on romantic relationships either in fruition or decline by employing vignettes and insight into specific moments to get a glimpse at the whole of romance, or a romance gone sour.

now i feel like my whole blog is an homage to angela carter and this is absolutely a basic choice but if you have never read the bloody chamber and other stories you are missing out on the gold standard of fantasy retellings. i am pretty sure this is the book that inspired leigh bardugo to write the language of thorns and i will die on this hill. anyway Highly recommend and again another short read that is pure atmosphere and rich in fable. 

i am sure there are a few other authors i missed on this list but this is what is coming to mind right now. thank you for question! it is always fun to talk about what i enjoy reading and hopefully you find something here that you might love and inspire you as well 💗

⊹       SOFT ACTION PROMPTS . . .        ⥼     (   ACCEPTING ! 

​        WAKING IN A BEAM OF LIGHT FROM A DISTANT SUN.    the quality of its illumination is not quite as she remembers it.    the sheets around her are cold,    they are also the wrong color    (   crisp white instead of pale powder blue   )    birdsong is muffled against glass but it is the click of fingers fluttering across a keyboard that grounds her in the bedroom she occupies.     rising from her heap of down and tousled hair,    it is only those swaths of sleek black that provide any concealment of her naked form in the dawn glow.    morning has only begun with the blushing sky seen through the curtains.    @wrrnth's back is casted in that camellia haze and it draws the botanist forth like a beacon.    

[ APPROACH ] receiver wakes to find sender is already out of bed so they come find them and sleepily embrace them,     refusing to let go.   

      ❛   who could you be furiously typing away to when i'm right here?      ❜    slipping out from under the covers,    she has padded soundlessly across the narrow room.    the desk is a sight she is well-acquainted with as she had seen it in varying states of disarray through pixelated displays.    to feel its true surface beneath her fingertips as something solid rather than confined to screen is a novelty that has not yet run its course.    wedging herself between the computer and them is a task that places her upon their lap.    her bare chest against their own and the heat is immediate,    banishing the early-morning chill that seized her the moment she had fled from bed.    ANOTHER NOVELTY THAT MAINTAINED ITS SPARK.     arms encircle their neck and there  is a feline tenderness to the way she nestled her face into the crook of their collar bone.        ❛   it's too early for work,    pay attention to me or i'll delete all your files.      ❜    sleep is heavy in her voice,    it robs her threat of urgency especially when followed by the kiss she leaves against the column of their throat.   

          ˖ °.    CRIMSON  PEAK  PROMPTS  ⥽   (  ACCEPTING  !

         THE FOREST HAS ALWAYS HAD A SENTIENCE,  A SEMBLANCE OF AWARENESS OF SELF.   the treescape shifts and morphs to suit its bidding and the labyrinth of foliage has claimed its queen.   a woman that sought,   not to tame this terrain,   but to become a guardian of it.  there is a close kinship between the dragon and all manner of beasts    ━    she is at one with them,   at home.   in this cycle she has been awake for half a century cultivating these lands.   ambushes of tigers with their coats of frost began to appear in the thick of these lost woods,  the rivers flowed with a fierce swiftness,   and the air carried a chill ill-suited for this region a millennia prior.   she is crowned in the wilds,   a flower taken from the desert and given the opportunity to take root in kinder soil.   THE GROUND WAS NURTURING YET THE DRAGON HAS FOSTERED A BRUTALITY HERE.  

       i will be the hunter and you the prey.   these are the war games we render   ━   though they would not liken them to the frivolity of competition,  they do nothing for the sake of sport.   for them she exaggerates expectations,   she lets the violence be real.   she was a winged thing pursuing them through mountain laurel:   maw snapping,   singing the promise of electricity.   her claws had made their mark at a certain point,   enough to tear at fabric and just barely snag at skin,   revealing thin lines of crimson.   she dived low and caught them behind the back,  dragging them to the woodland floor.   the canopy is thick here,   the pines crowded around them like inquisitive onlookers.   when she descends now she is a woman with her scales partially shed yet remnants gleamed,  an onyx frame to her face.  

        she turns them over in the rain-soaked earth and their hair is mired with the grime.   cascading onto the knight she sets herself over his fallen form,   wings eclipsing all the world around them.   ❛   you said you would not flee from me,   not here,   not in all the years to come.   ❜   play acting,   as she does not give voice to the true meaning behind the prick of ire.   I CANNOT SIT THE THRONE YOU SERVE;   I AM NO GODDESS,   BUT I AM THE GROUND BENEATH YOUR FEET AND THE STARS HUNG ABOVE YOUR HEAD.   her thumbs worry away at the cloth of their shroud   ━   a fervent tenderness even in the wake of her strife.   this is a benediction,  their closeness profound enough to claim topography.   ❛   i’m afraid i should go mad if i stay.  ❜  @wrrnth​​ in a rare,  muttered plea rears up at her.   in retaliation palms press into his chest,  nails curling into the flesh…   past armor and past resistance.  

         ❛   then go mad.   ❜   the depravity of her grin is a feat of horrid beauty   ━   THIS IS THE SKY IN MID-TEMPEST;   THE ONSLAUGHT,   THE INVASION,   THE TORRENT.   gore from her last meal split across her teeth,   fringed scarlet.   it spoils the splendor of the sight of her,   it exacerbates the fatalism found in her mystique.   ❛   let me take it from you.   ❜   the fangs lay claim to the crest of skin revealed through her prior sundering,  that edge of a collar bone.   red,  red,  and more red,  red like their vigilant eyes.   ❛   i want to see your face when all the reason leaves you   ━    ❜   another bite,  ivory asserting itself over the hollow of their throat.   with the puncture comes a kiss of a ravenous animal,   it worries away at that wound and then drags upward.   ❛  put yourself in my hands,   hayato.   ❜   a final act of liturgy;   i speak your ancient name,  i call you for what you are.   concluding invocation and her mouth moves over their own as she swallows those syllables and kills them with longing. 

                 ⊹        50 TYPES OF KISSES . . .         ⥼  (   ACCEPTING !

       SHE IS PRIM,    UNTOUCHED SNOWFALL IN THIS RUGGED LANDSCAPE.       ravensthorpe is unlike os alta with its gilded domes and gleaming granite floors    ━      a delightful farce,    a construct of power when it was more a revenant of former glory.      amongst the corvids the ravkan queen maintains the air of a lone tigress;     ivory cracked through with black.      THEY WHISPER;     SHE EATS MEN WHOLE ONLY TO COUGH UP THEIR BONES TO ADORN HER HAIR.      SPEAK HER NAME AND YOU SUMMON A TEMPEST TO LEVEL YOUR VILLAGE.       conversely she is a fair,    diminutive creature in appearance and when first looked upon it was the electric jolt of desire that came first before the fatal touch of magic.       utterly lovely until those lips like hibiscus petals parted to spit their venom.      

        her temporary quarters are separated from that of her king's,    atop the tower keep as she requested she lodge at the highest ground possible    (    the sky felt her only friend in this foreign setting,    close would not be close enough   )    earlier that day @notodin​ brought her a charming stead in the form a vyatka horse,    a bittersweet homesickness came with the sight of the breed.      when gifted the queen had been unable to express any form of gratitude outside of a curt nod.      I WAS TAKEN ABACK BY THE BOUT OF FAMILIARITY;    HOW YOU HAD NOTICED SUCH A SPECIFIC ACHE AND ATTEMPTED TO SOOTHE IT FOR ME.      the ensuing silence had been taken as a slight as eivor's features steeled in face of her wife's seeming indifference.       it is the same expression she wears as the two monarchs converge in the stairwell,     zoya halting a few steps above the viking in the narrow pass.      

     ❛   earlier today,    i was unkind to you.      ❜   an apology would be too lofty a promise to keep though even the witch can find a means to convey her remorse through confession.       an oddity,    to have such an unimpeded view of her lord's features and the clarity of it almost causes her to give pause and back away from the words on the tip of her tongue.         ❛    thank you    ━       for all you have done for me since my arrival.    ❜     a rising mixture of duty and wanting,    those blue fire eyes flicker downward to the mouth of the raven king.       less a boon and more a wanting.       she is sanguine in her lowering and her lips brushing eivor's is an absurdly delicate gesture until it becomes more realized,    more firm in conviction.       a dithering peck,    that is all it is yet for the first time it feels as if they are finally a unified entity,    an empire onto themselves.      

       pulling away from her the dragon maiden has reconstructed her composure     ━       though her cheeks gave the impression that they had been nipped at by winter air quite recently.      continuing her descent she halts once their positions are reversed,    zoya on the lower landing and eivor looming over her.      at some point the sorceress's fingertips had  grazed and captured the godling's rough skinned palm as she had slipped by her.           ❛   i have been meaning to ask,    when you depart for your next raid...    would you consider taking your queen with you this time?      ❜

⊹      SHINING ARMOR PROMPTS . . .        ⥼     (   ACCEPTING ! 

       AMONGST THE ASH,    THE ICE STAINED THICK WITH RED THERE IS THE DRAGON.    there is the woman    ━      the aftermath of the black-winged beast.    she had delivered death from on high upon the invaders    (   witch-hunters,    religious zealots    ━      carnage in the name of faith   )     she is an impulsive queen,    this is for certain.    her scouting soldiers had brought word of nearby pillaging to ravensthorpe and before drawn out countermeasures could come into fruition the witch went to war.    in the dawn she had took flight a by noon she was there,    surrounded by the ruination she wrought.    the makeshift encampment had been entirely leveled by lightning.     azure fire endures licking the edges of the clearing and at its center was the storm monarch.    completely bare in the wreckage,    she stood with an arrow jutting from her shoulder and an effusing wound just below her ribs.    far from unscathed yet it was mere scratches when looking upon the state of her pursuers.    

        ❛   what the fuck were you thinking?! you could have been killed!   ❜    @notodin is all righteous fury leaping from her horse mid stride and catching her wife a moment before collapse.     after being lowered to the ground,    furs are thrown over the grime stricken limbs. the persisting scales remain which crawl like malevolent shadows up her arms from wrist to elbow.        ❛   it would have been worth it.    they could have killed me a thousand times over at least i got my claws in them.      ❜     it is a creature's smile,    mouth still full of serrated teeth and all that bone is rose stained with blood.     lips a ravaged landscape of split flesh and the remnants of another man's skin.    blue eyes are a surface of glasswork,    hazed and unmoving.    she looks past the viking's face to the snow-filled clouds above.    soft,    down white coming down around them,     a feeble attempt to blanket the havoc she had inflicted.    

        ❛   they were preying on my people,    eivor,    when they had done no wrong other than using their gifts.      ❜    gaze refocusing and there are no tears shed    ━      what remorse could she salvage here?    MY ANGER IS MORE HOLY THAN ANY PROPHET.    her wrath had been a virtue.         ❛   i knew you would find me.    you are my king and my sky,     but you never have to save me.      ❛     a charred hand rises from the coverings,    a thumb to that scarred cheek the familiar furrowing of skin.    the pain is so far from her mind then,    utterly dull as she traces faint lines of distress across the plane of her spouse's forehead.       ❛    although,    i do like the way your eyebrows scrunch up when you're worried.      ❜  

♫ :————)

( ♫ ) SONG ASSOCIATION FT. kenneth ⊹

⁽ ⁰⁰¹ ⁾ FAVOURITE COLOUR, CARLY RAE JEPSEN. hold on now / this is getting kinda serious / this is getting kinda out of control / out of control / slow down now / breathing heavy when it's just a kiss / this is getting kinda out of my hands / out of my hands/ please don't go, look real close / eyes that show kaleidoscopes / when I'm close to you / we blend into my favourite colour / i'm bright baby blue, falling into you / falling for each other

⁽ ⁰⁰² ⁾ BEST FRIENDS, THE WEEKND. oh, i don't want to be responsible / for your heart if we fall / 'cause i'll get clumsy and tear it apart / i love you so / but we can't get close/ you're my best friend now / oh, i love it when we climax / and i would never burn you / i could never hurt you / if we do it like that / don't try to take it further/ focus on the friendship / get a little sidetracked / catching little feelings / thought we had arrangements / thought you weren't like that / oh, friends no more/ sex as friends no more

⁽ ⁰⁰³ ⁾ SEEK & DESTROY, SZA. you push me past my own capacity, boy / permission to crash, collecting damages, boy / no reaching and grabbing for more clarity now / seek and destroy, all missiles deployed / do it to you / i had to do it to you / don't make me do it to you / i can't stand it, the urge is so demanding / the purge, so necessary / the art of war, goddamnit, i'm drained

⁽ ⁰⁰⁴ ⁾ HOVER LIKE A GODDESS, WILLOW. you're all that i see, not only for me / to taste you is sweet, my heart is in pieces / when i walk, you fucking hover like a goddess / just meet me under the covers, baby, i wish / for you to be free / my only intent's to please you, touch is divine / the language is saying, "ohh, ohh" / our bodies are saying, "ohh, ohh" / i'll never be fine if you won't be mine / you know i don't like to take my time

⁽ ⁰⁰⁵ ⁾ SWOON, BEACH WEATHER. you're my cannibal lover / i feel it when you're underneath the skin / creepin' in again / well, I know this chemical feeling / is making me forget about the drugs / you poison with your love / and when i think i'm out of the dark / you're pulling me away from the light / take me where you want me tonight / and let me swoon over you / and there's nothing i can do / so let me swoon over you

corazón save that new years kiss for me, i am ON MY WAY. how lucky am i to be able to create with you; thank you for blessing me with our fantastic dynamics and also for always GETTING IT. i hope your 2023 is all that you wish for <3

FORGIVE ME i am 2 margaritas in but rio 🥲🥲🥲 it has been such a joy to get to talk more this year and plot and laugh together! i feel so lucky to know you and now call you friend as well as a writing partner 💕💕 Here is to another year of shenanigans magical nonsense and matching vibes i love your mind and YOU how does it feel to be so talented and funny hm?? happy new year angel 💗💗

       ⊹   HOUSE OF THE D/RAGON STARTERS. . .  ⥼   (   ACCEPTING ! 

      IT IS QUAINT,    THE AUTUMNAL VEIL OF YELLOWING LEAVES GILDING THE TOWN FOR BUT A MOMENT'S TIME.     it is not often she leaves her cottage dwelling to travel such lengths but she does so at the insistence of an old friend     ━       well they were once friends,     what they were now remains to be seen.     before the pair of them two coffees cool,     untouched props in their production of humanity.     zoya still has hers intact though it is curious why she had not abandoned her tender sensibilities in the aftermath of grief     (    but i have not come to discuss my mourning,    or my burying of predatory tendencies    )   

   ❛    i find i have...   few friends lately.       ❜    @parabathai​ taps the table once to distract from the enormity of the confession     ━       vulnerable and raw though it is spoken with a contrasting apathy.    

          her icy palms come to settle around the lukewarm mug,    a habit leftover from living.       ❛   keeping the company of humans isn't exactly helpful when it comes to making...    lasting friendships for us.      ❜    this,    is an obvious and neutral statement.     they had not engaged in conversations of the heart for many years now,    treading this road was not as consoling as it once might have been.        ❛   although,    i will admit it is much easier to spend time with you when katerina is no longer around.      ❜    the frenetic energy of the doppelgänger was one even the once coined 'nightmare' could profess to finding taxing.       ❛   she always brought out the worst in you.      ❜  

                 ⊹        50 TYPES OF KISSES . . .         ⥼  (   ACCEPTING !

  A HALLOWED VESSEL FOR CHAOS,     A BODY MADE PRISON FOR GODS.    exaltation is not a practice conducted upon the living.     this was what sanctuaries were for,    this is why statues were erected,    this is why scripture is written and bound.    blood and skin cannot hold divinity when plucked from the sky.    she had felt the weight of her an sanctity,    the diadem at her brow securing layers of netted veils making a muddled lake of silver of her face.     NOT A WOMAN BUT A SYMBOL,    REDUCED TO ICONOGRAPHY.     in her desperation she had employed the serpent out of necessity,     a means of escape.    the trial was not found in the act of larceny itself but the weeks that followed her willing abduction.     crossing country lines of warring nations,    tumultuous landscapes,    and backwater villages that would sooner see the both of them set ablaze than upon a barstool in their nearest tavern.   

       occasionally,    they travel horseback if the dragon's presence did not frighten their steads into a frozen horror by sheer proximity alone.    she no longer complains about the meager encampments they find themselves dwelling in or the discomfort of making bed of the winter-hardened earth.    NATURE IS MY PRIMORDIAL DWELLING AND THOUGH I LUXURIATED IN THE CATACOMBS OF TEMPLES    ━      I STILL WAS A STRANGER AMONGST THE DEAD.     she is fatigued from the mental toll of battle,    of feeling the bite of dispatch around her.  @vipier  is now in-tune with the keenness of her empathic sense as he casted glances at her from his trot beside her though their procession does not halt    (   careful,    i may believe you are wearing concern today   )    she is adjusting her gloves    ━      the bone-white hide of them that never leaves her palms uncovered.    a shallow wound at her wrist she inspects and one of the pair falls upon fresh snow.     

       it is not rushed his dismount,    the sinuous ease of his movements until he is beside her and her mare.     he pockets the glove in favor of returning it to her    ━      arm outstretched for retrieval and yet he captures her by that rare,    bared pulse point.     fingers pressed to the faint heartlines as he bestows a kiss to her knuckles.    he does so,    not with the bowed head of a devotee but the raised,    poignant gaze of a dualist landing the first blow.     A WELL UNSEALED;     THE CONTACT IS A SINGING STRIKE OF LIGHTNING.    with the current set free she can properly identify that prior twinge of worry muddled down by the vexation of daring to care to begin with    (   do not look back at me,    i have caught you shedded scale and raw   )    for a brief,    terrible instant she is entirely aware of what she is about to let unfold and then steels herself against that knowing.        ❛   kiss me...    properly.      ❜    demand only softened by the cloud of hot breath materializing before her in the frigid air.    his grip tightens and her chin turns upward imperiously despite the climb of her erratic heartbeat.     UNDER THE GUISE OF A CHALLENGE,    THIS DAMPENS THE UPHEAVAL BUT NOT ENTIRELY.    

      ❛   you have never handled me like a noble creature before    ━      why begin now?      ❜    the frailty of such a meager advance    (   speak to me in a language we both recognize   )    then he is pulling her down from her saddle,    dragging,    there is no lift,    only the world going entirely askew.    a controlled fall and they both tumble into the powder;    soundlessly and unharmed.    the latter condition hardly lasting as she landed over him;    her words had seemed to cast their strange magic.    all her drapery discarded he cups her the curve of her cheek and issues the evoked true kiss with a fervor lined with teeth.     a parted mouth over her own and she can taste another man's blood on his lips still.    that metallic savor only driving her forth more her tongue draws the crimson out of him.    an ancient wanting,    a basal hunger recalled and remembered.    that gnawing voice and its insistent litany:    eat ,   eat,     eat.   

                 ⊹        50 TYPES OF KISSES . . .         ⥼  (   ACCEPTING !

      YOU HAVE COME TO ME AS A TOOL OF APPEASEMENT,    A FINAL PLEA FOR PEACE.     they are a looming quiet,     remote as the moon hung above mountain high and graced by that same silver-lace around their outline.     the snow peaks are a landscape as treacherous as the beast who had earned sovereign over it.    great altitude and jagged edges composed together to make a feral majesty of the ever-winter summit.     there is only one location untouched by frost under her dominion.     carved into the mountain and under the protection of her manipulation of atmosphere,     a hothouse,    a garden,     a small piece of arcadia nestled into a realm of eternal snow     (   we shed furs,    coats,    and skin here   ━      this is a place beyond armor   )   

         when she had raged that very first day she had retreated to coverings of lush leaf and greenery.     I WAS A PROVINCIAL WITCH AGAIN,    HIDDEN IN HER WOOD,    A STRANGER TO THE WORLD.    their presence had been an intrusion,    by the simple fact that she was no longer alone.    they have never imposed themselves upon her in any way and thus they crept in silently.    a marble-cast statue keeping watch over her orchard    ━      protector of bounty.    they assisted where they could and had assumed the role of caretaker without request.      ❛   come,    the jasmine is finally blooming.     when it unfurls,    the whole evening smells sweeter for it.      ❜    the night flower touched by lunar light spread its white petals like a bashful ingénue.    cupped by her awaiting fingertips the heat at her side alerts the queen to the knight's presence but it is the hand which graces her neck that steals her attention away from the sight of flourishing.   

       they turn her face from ground to the revelation that was their unshrouded expression     (   striking;    the anomaly of their beauty,    its singularity.    the allure was found in the distinction   )    NO ONE ELSE HAS EVER LOOKED LIKE THIS.     then their lips are at her skin,    the corner her mouth and then the whole of it.    the mind goes blissfully empty,    the closing of the dragon's eye.     she mirrors the motion pressing further into them and with this encouragement she is gathered into their arms and then laid out upon the grass in a tremulous exhale.     they pull away from her and she is forced to reckon with the enormity of her want    ━      their face above her casted in shadow,         ❛   do you want to do this?    ❜    @wrrnth​’s tone is frightfully even,    though a touch breathless.     the reply is this:     the tugging at the light cloth of their under armor until they are chest-to-chest and the tangling of her fingers in their hair.    she kisses them hard,    with parted lips,    with mangled entreaty in her throat.  

I’m love you 🥺❤️

i am giving you the softest kiss on the forehead right now seren

bows down to the double verified zoya nazyalenskaya

some may say i am a public figure in these parts… a tumblr influencer 😎

❛ you demand my loyalty, my whole heart, my marrow. ❜

⊹   DEATHLESS PROMPTS ...    ⥼     (   ACCEPTING ! 

      WE MAKE A SANCTUARY OUT OF A BEDROOM.     a practice of shadow and storm    ━      those gnashing teeth,    those ashen claws that scrape the air to reach for her.    they ache for skin but they find steel instead clasped tight around wrists.     this binding is no longer necessary she had trained that winged wickedness well.    it responds to the timbre of her voice,    heeding each coo like a sanguine song.     I CAN KEEP YOU FULL,    SAYS THE DRAGON.    ONLY I KNOW THE  BREADTH OF YOUR STRANGE HUNGERS.    the chains clang against each other as she shifts through the ivory of sheets and the down feather of a ruined duvet.    the key is a pulse point,    skin-warm and glimmering at the base of her throat.     he could maneuver himself in a way to steal it from her person,    even in his caged state,    yet all the once-king does is observe the witch in pursuit.   

      ❛   that's a small price to pay for my services.      ❜    a heart is the first betrayal and the knife-point of her fingertips trace over that faithless organ.    with skin barred she can see each gnarled fissure carved into the pale expanse of his flesh.    she does not dip closer than necessary and she clamps down a new lock around his chin.     her thumb pressing into the divot of his lower lip,    just enough pressure to bruise though it is a bloodless affront.         ❛   you can make your own demands you know...    but do you really want to be released,    kolyenka?   ❜  

             ⊹   THE LONELIEST TI/ME STARTERS. . .  ⥼   (   ACCEPTING ! 

       THEY ARE WEEKS INTO THE WAR,      YEARS,      ACTUALLY IT IS ONLY MERE MOMENTS.    the looming toll of death slackens time    ━    the burden of grief had a way of tampering with one's personal chronology.     the commander is a shambling haze of her former self.    kept together by mist and magic alone    (    and the push of her precarious alliance   )    the sun at her side,      the sun stalking in her wake,      the sun shackled to her wrist.    WHO IS THE PRISONER NOW,      YOU OR I?      he inhabits her thoughts like a downtrodden creature seeking shelter and then he opens his mouth and venom seeps out.    when the dragon's eye turns to daylight it is a tether casted out and pulled taught.    she hears the languorous beat of a heart,      the intake of breath,      his chest rising and falling in a vision.    it is a prophecy promptly fulfilled as he rounds the corridor,      a psychopomp brushed by dawn yet adorned in dusk.   

     ❛    you give me no respite,     you horrid serpent.      ❜    she spits,      she cannot help the jab in her cadence,      the silver in her tongue.    the night has aged and nearly dwindled away as they entered the little hours of morning thus the little balance is hushed still with sleep.     NOCTURNAL ANIMALS ARE ALL WHO ROAM THIS REALM OF SLUMBER;       YOU AND I AGAIN.       ❛     doesn't it kill you that you're thinking of me?      ❜    @daylighter​​ is a depiction of subdued vainglory,      of rightness with himself even as the grisha general brushes by his person.    the avoidance is quickly met with intent pursuit    ━    refusal to allow escape from confrontation.       ❛   i can't do this with you.      ❜    there is lightning in this whisper,      a seething shock with an aftertaste of shame    (    how my desire disgusts me,      to be caught wanting at the cusp of cataclysm   )    his hunt persists and when she pivots on the heels of her slippers she is steering the pair of them into the meager privacy of a pillared alcove.        ❛    not now,      preferably never,      but you insist on plaguing my mind.      ❜     there is something frantic in her tone,      frenetic and frenzied    ━    a woman on the brink though her voice does not rise above a murmur.   

    ❛    distance only worsens the flurry… so will you grant me peace if i try the opposite?      ❜    he had opened his mouth in protest just then yet his jaw sets then as she allows a semblance of honesty to permeate her denial.    her fingers had curled into the collar of his bedlinens    ━    an echo of strangulation,      of strife    (    i will steal the air from your lungs,      i will leave you a hollow used up shell of star matter   )    it is haunting,       the calm which he instills but she feels none of it when her lips clash against his own.     THE DAM GIVES WAY;      THE FLOOD OF FURY,     OF MELANCHOLY,     OF LONESOMENESS IS UNBEARABLE.     she bites into it and there is blood in her mouth now in its entire metallic reassurance,      parting her lips as if she could swallow the gunfire of thoughts,      the shrapnel of violent emotion.        ❛   what happened to all your quiet?        ❜    she hates this,      where is the relief?      where is the consoling?      he only serves to heighten her turmoil.       ❛   bring it back.    ❜    she pulls him closer still,      her back colliding with the wall of stone.     the cool of its surface is a balm to her feverish skin though it quells nothing.        ❛   give it to me.      ❜    pleading against his lips,      insisting with her tongue.     SHELTER ME,       SHELTER ME,      WHY WILL YOU NOT SHELTER ME?      I AM SO TIRED OF BEING ON FIRE.