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#moonish
tom-keiserman · 2 years
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2009-02-28 #sand #sandy #sandshade #dunas #dunes #sandpath #moonish #blackwhite #blackandwhite #bwphotography #BarradeValizas #FondodeValizas #Valizas #igersuy #rochauy #rochauruguay #uruguayphotography #passionuy #photographylovers #adayonephoto #yourshotphotographer #natgeoyourshots #Great_photoworld #ourplanetdaily #ArtsyCouture #natgeotravel #missãovt @skyscannerbrasil (at Valizas, Rocha, Uruguay) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ck9uYVNOKXi/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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moonstalkerwerewolf · 8 months
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Werewolves types I've drawn so far in one post!
Artwork © @moonstalkerwerewolf. Please DO NOT repost or remove the source and comments!
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captainhappyclaws · 1 year
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Moon Knight & The Punisher
[yay another collage =) all pics used founded on pinterest. We need more moonisher content frr]
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The Shadow
Sagana in in her Umbral Magic Glory. She may be ancient, but she is very dangerous. Artwork and character © @moonstalkerwerewolf. Please DO NOT repost or remove the source and comments!
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burgerboingg · 1 year
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old man yaoi cringe
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britishchick09 · 1 month
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it's morning yet the moon is out? :o
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glynjohnsfurcoat · 4 months
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i can’t hang with people who match my freak because i love to trespass and make the worlds dumbest decisions. i need bitches who hold me back from that
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skyrigel · 3 months
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You are in love 11 | B.B
Part 1 of " You are in love "
Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader
Warning: smut, 18+, p in v ( rough), fingering, fluffy fluff, Idiots in love, might have used whore, use of f word( alot) double orgasm, teasing, inexperienced! Reader, horny! Reader
Rigel's note 🪩: aftermath of my " You are in love 1 ", this is the confrontation and smut part of the request. My cow is so angry at me—i write so cringe sometimes, 10 points to your house if you find 1989 ref other than title.
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You can hear it in the silence...
It was only a minute after you laid in your bed, you heard it, a soft thud against your window followed by another.
Your heart dreaded because it wasn't the first time your best friend had thrown rocks at your window, first time—when he called you a duck in front of lord Ivor, a childhood memory and second when he was bored so he thought calling upon his fairer sex friend would be the best choice and another time—
This particular one was very violent against the glass and for a moment you wondered if it would break, you pushed the blankets aside, feeling the night chill settle in your bones as you pulled your night gown closer.
Your feet touched the cold floor, chill reaching up your spine as you dragged yourself to the window and there he was.
Basking under the moonlight and ever so beautiful, his cheeks flushed like he had run miles and his heart heaving, his eyes widened at your silhouette and a deep sigh escaped just after a smile took refuge on his lips, those treacherous lips.
You opened the window, he dropped the pebble.
" Benedict ! " You screamed whispered down at him, his smile grew but his expressions were pained, like he was deeply confused.
" Can we talk ? " It was loud and clear, echoing in the dark, he wasn't drunk but there was something very intoxicating about him.
You face palmed, feeling your heart sink because you still haven't forget the warm tingling, still haven't forgotten the way your heart cart wheeled along with everything inside you, crawling it's way to Benedict.
Every friendly castle crumbling in mere moments, just by remembering how tenderly his mouth moved when he was protecting you and how tenderly it would be to have it against your—
" Please, please, please, " He chanted, not attempting to keep it low, then he dropped to his knees and even in the dark you couldn't mistake the silvery bead, those were tears.
" Give me one chance, let me talk, let me—"
" I am coming ! " You leaned across the sill, telling him shush with your fingers as you backed away, running out of your room but tiptoeing all right, missing the third step because it creaked and opening the back door soundlessly to your secret gardens.
Despite the fear of getting caught and chill that was swirling, your own heart wasn't being much help, your face grew warm at the mere sight of him and let alone the other embarassing things that he did to you, just by existing.
" Are you mad ? " You stomped your feet across him, crossing your arms as he looked up, his knees penetrating in grass, like he was begging for all of his sins, like you were something to worship, like a false god.
Benedict's eyes were red in the moonish glow, he was radiating, he was crying, he was so very beautiful.
" You are really mad Benedict ! Go home, we will talk tomorrow—"
" I thought i lost you." He said, it was more of a cry but you were too baffled to form words anymore. He sniffed.
" I thought i would never see you again...when I lost you...my heart..my heart was the closest to exploding." He said, clutching his heart as his lips parted in a gasp. It was paining him but it pained you all the same.
" Oh Benedict." You whispered, your hand inevitably caressing his cheek as he shaked his head profusely.
" You don't understand how much... fuck...I came here all the way thinking you would be gone somewhere i couldn't follow...like i fucked everything again—"
" You ran all the way here ?! " You garbbed his chin, you knew it would hurt but you needed to know this.
" That's not the point." He avoided your gaze but you jerked him right up, eye to eye.
" Are you fucking mad Benedict ?! Are you drunk ? " You leaned to sniff his mouth but he only reeked of the few lemonade he downed with you.
" I...no...I am sorry." Benedict swallowed hard, his adam rolled and readjusted again and the warmness was there again, spreading through the creaks of your bones.
" That was really stupid Benedict." You said softly, you couldn't imagine what whistledown would write if she had seen him running wild.
" I know, I know...it just seemed right to me, like I couldn't stop myself even if I tried but I am sorry, i don't wanna lose you, and I meant it all, truly and completely." Benedict said, his hand grabbing your wrist like you would run away and leave him.
" Benedict we aren't talking about running..?"
Benedict's brow raised as he worried his jaw, his eyes dazed as they lingered on your lips more than it was approved by.
" I am talking about.. about my defending you but I swear I wasn't trying to be hero or some knight in shining armour, i just wanted to be there like you were always for me." He inhaled sharply, you were knocked out of your breath as you tried to breathe and speak and failing in both.
" I know..I know I have embarassed you deeply and i am so sorry, i am—"
" Benedict shut up." You yanked your hand away from his grip, breathing harder as he watched grimly, not making a sound.
" That..." You bited your lip, " I'm..." Your heart was beating too fast and your cheeks deepened in colour as you turned to him.
" Hot." You said finally, gripping your night gown as your knuckles went white, all blood rushing to your face and places too holy.
" You're hot ? " Benedict tried but a grin tiptoed it's way and it was so beautiful across his face that you wanted to feel it against your own lips. Shut up !
" What you did for me Benedict...it was...it was the hottest thing you ever did...you were..oh my god...you were on fire." You closed your eyes, feeling yourself vibrate throughout your body with just his heavy gaze.
" I thought," he recovered his slackened jaw, smiling like a star,", i embarassed you."
" You could never ! " You shaked your head, taking a step, not much, it was enough.
" And the time I called you a duckling? " He laughed, sound rich and melodic and that's how you loved him the most, free and feral.
" Well you could be an idiot sometimes." You chuckled softly, taking a deep breath as Benedict outstretched his hand.
" I know, I know...I am such an idiot and that's why I need you, I want you by my side." He said earnestly, you took his hand as he pulled you closer.
" This...it has been a torment all this time." He whispered it lowly, voice heavy as he kissed each word on your knuckles, your brain was dead in it's wake.
" Benedict." You exhaled, this would ruin you, there would be no coming back.
" I watched you leave and i...I thought what would become of me and there was only one answer—nothing, there's no me without you. I can't imagine a life where it's not us." He brought your palm closer to his lips, pressing them softly, inking each syllable.
" Benedict." You shaked your head because you would do something very stupid if he didn't stop, Benedict stood up, his knees buckling and making an odd sound.
" So you must know, it can't wait anymore because I can't keep it in, it's killing me." Oh how much it was killing you, little did he know, You felt the moment stop when he leaned down, his breath heavy on your cheek as his eyes darted to you.
" You're my best friend." He said, and you knew what it was, he is in love.
Then he kissed you, soft warm lips against yours and it was only a moment before he pulled away.
" I am sorry...fuck—"
" Don't ever apologise for that ! " You pulled him by his collar, crashing your lips again like waves meeting the shore, it was like your soul was crawling out for Benedict and nothing else mattered.
A moan escaped his mouth and your whole body shuddered at the sound he was making, those sound that drowned in your own mouth as your devoured him, you felt him grinning against you and oh you could die, In silent screams and even in your wildest dreams, you never dreamt of this.
Breathless, you spared a moment and he looked so beautiful with his swollen kissed lips beaming up with your saliva. Your.
" I... Benedict...more." your cheeks blazed, you were damn sure your ears were red because Benedict looked like he was about to die, his grin splitting his whole face in half.
" This..it was perfect ! " He said, dipping down to kiss your cheek, you thought he would pull away but he then rested his forehead against yours, your breathing leveling with his in synchronise. It felt real, all of it.
He pulled you by your waist, nose bumping in yours.
" I want to give you everything..." He breathed, " everything that you want."
" I want it Benedict." You were only half aware of the thing you wanted from him, perhaps to entwine your souls together, you weren't sure but this torment was too much.
His thumb caressed your lips and then your jaw, making stars and circles as he whispered in a amused little voice.
" We must wait—" you kissed him, hard on his mouth and you were sure someone's tooth was chipped but it melted the pain as soon as his mouth parted for you, his tongue swiping across your lower lip like a Eden's feather.
You were holding his face like it was your life support and he was too holding you back like you were his most precious treasure, his hands were slowly progressing up your thigh, your night gown sliding up. He stopped, you stopped tugging at his hair and felt him whine against your mouth, nipping in response. You guided his hand to your slick as oil womanhood, he gasped against you.
His eyes were shining brighter than every star that hanged high.
" Oh." His fingers touched you and you thought you would die just there, moaning like you never had.
" You are...you are wet." He said, his cheeks deepening in heat and colour, his smile becoming a grin as your eyes dazed.
" Fuck ! " You moaned, arching back when he swiped his one long finger against you, Benedict moaned just the same.
" Oh lord...oh lord..oh fucking lord." Benedict groaned, you were sure he smiled wickedly before his finger penetrated inside you.
The coil in your stomach lurched and something heavy dropped inside you.
" It might..it might.. might hurt." Benedict dropped his head to the crook of your neck, kissing once before he set his eyes on you.
You winced as one finger became two, pulsing inside you, your soul was no longer inside you and it was as if you were floating.
" Ben...oh—" you almost cried, your eyes tearing up when his pace increased and he was panting and shaking, his eyes widening when you came with a sharp cry, thighs shaking and turning to jelly as Benedict watched dazedly.
" Fuck i ruined..I ruined — " you looked as Benedict withdrew his fingers covered in silvery thick juices.
" Shhh... " He cooed, smiling as he brought his fingers to his mouth, you gawked as he wickedly sucked them in, humming at the sweetness. " You were beautiful."
" Can we..can we go inside ? " You were being nasty, you knew but what you wouldn't give to see Benedict, whole of him, raw and naked.
" I...I would love to but in order to keep your virtue intact—
" Shut up ! " You groaned, taking his hand.
" Anthony will kill me." He shrugged, entwinng your fingers together and they moulded like they were made for each other.
" I will kill you." You said, he smiled like the devil he was.
-
You can feel it on your way home...
" Hey." You laughed when he pinned you against your father's study, kissing you deeply, " shhh..." He smiled, lowering his head to your cleavage, licking it, placing open mouthed kisses all along.
" My father's on hunt, he will come tommorow" You whispered, the servants were the only concern and honestly, there was hardly any concern.
" Good, tommorow i am talking to you father." He smiled up at you, kissing your flesh and you mouthed all prayers you knew.
" Wh..y ? " You said, Benedict hoisted you up, his hands underneath your thigh as he carried you up, missing the third step because he knew, he has been here.
" To marry you my little kangaroo." He laughed when you deadpanned at him.
" Call me that vile thing again and I will say no." You hid your face in his neck, smiling.
" Well since you're smiling—ow"
" Not smiling! " You nipped at his skin, salty and just like Benedict, it was like a dream come true, to kiss him, to love him, to have him.
" What should I call you then cupcake ? " He pushed open the door, lowering you gently down on the couch as he backed away.
" Cupcake ? " You offered, he mouthed a 'sweet' before he removed his waist coat.
" Oh lord..." You gasped as one by one Benedict began to discard his clothes, his skin gleaming with sweat and beauty, he was like the one poets wrote poems about, he was artist but he was art in himself, dazzling and ever so mesmerising.
" C'mon, don't act like you're unimpressed." He wiggled his eyebrow, teasing as he started to work on his breeches, you felt warmth tingling throughout you, you demanded touch because you were starving.
" You're like a poetry." You said, it was more of a breath but he heard it anyway, stopping as held the last bits of dignity together.
" You have called me poetry earlier too."
" Byron's poetry."
" But poetry indeed." He dropped the last clothing, naked and bare in front of you and like every bit about him, he was beautiful.
" My snowman..." You couldn't hold back the grin, Benedict was all macho and bravado but it crumbled when he strided towards you, he so wanted you to like him, every bit of him, whole of him and you did, with your whole heart you would love this man, forevermore.
" Yours." He mouthed, coming over you, his fingers undoing your nightgown and it was revealed that Benedict was rather good with buttons.
He sensed the way your body shivered at his touch, his fingers examining the work he did there with his mouth, he looked at you, you nodded, your night gown slipped down.
" Oh my...you have been hiding this from me ?! From an artist ?! " He sniffed down your body, placing tender kisses all over.
" Really ? I don't know...never thought I was much of bea—" Benedict shut you up with a kiss.
" You're the most gorgeous person I ever met and-" he kissed you again, " my sweet little kangaroo, so please." He shaked his head.
His length twitched on your thigh and you dare not look down.
" It's okay." He said, " all yours." He added with a wink, you glanced at his hardened leaking length, red angry at its head.
A desire in you swirled, to touch it, to hold it, to claim it, you brought your hand before Benedict pulled away, scaring you.
" I am sorry, I am sorry." You threw your hands back, Benedict opened his mouth abruptly.
" Oh no, i would let you fence with it later but right now I really really want to make it good for you."
" Right...I don't know what it meant but..that fencing part Benedict?! " You giggled, Benedict laughed, placing himself between your legs.
" It...it might hurt babe." He said, you stopped giggling.
" Not much." He assured, placing a kiss on your stomach, you so needed to be filled by him, his slender fingers could make you see heaven, you were dying to think where his thickness would take you. He was going to split you, you were going to very much enjoy it.
" Are you sure.. because..we can just do any other time...like wait for marriage, " you made a face, " not that I am not interested...you have no idea how much I am dying to see you scream my name."
" Benedict." You teased, putting all your seduction in it, Benedict eye rolled fondly.
" Oh Benedict! " You said it louder, Benedict eyes were blazing, the vein on his neck was throbbing like worm set free.
" You have no idea what you have done." He practically growled, taking your hand as his tip teased your entrance, you really didn't.
Your heart stopped when only his tip pushed through your folds, your resistance at it's peak, a beak of sweat tricked down your cleavage, Benedict closed his eyes, muttering something.
" Fuck..fuck you're so tight." He hastily said, his length pressing inside, you looked at how he was only half inside but you were already panting and moaning like a whore.
" Oh fuck ! " You screamed as he pushed all at once inside you, his hips smacking against yours making an obscene noise.
" I am gonna make you see stars." He said, his voice shaky but determination was dripping as he slowly thursted, once—your head threw back, twice—you were no longer bounded in body and space, thrice—your eyes closed and it was just stars and cosmic rays, you lost count and control as Benedict set his pace in a feral way, he was pushing inside you like beast set free, his hips rolled and slammed down at you with an alarming rate, they left a burning pain before he striked again.
" Benedict ! " You were screaming, your breasts rolling up and down and he watched devilishly, penetrating into your hole, plunging inside, your jaw slackened like his, his drool dripped down as he was lost somewhere, in his own daze.
He pounded inside you, his breath caught in his throat and his face red, you only half registered when he lowered his whole body, his mouth inches away from you and his thursted one final hard one.
" Oh my god ! " He bited his lips, his knees buckling as his cry sharpened, you felt the insides of your swirl with warmness, arching back, mouth agape with moans he brought out of you, the coil inside your stomach loosened as you came, body going limp. It was the second time you felt mere smoke in existence, everything dizzied while you short circuited.
You opened your eyes to look at him, your devil, your snowman, he was panting, his hair plastered to his forehead, his smile dazed.
" Was it good? " He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, you were aware of his juices mixing with yours inside you and it made your nipples hard, just by thinking.
" Ama..zing." you kissed his forehead, his limp cock still inside you, you liked how full it made you feel, like complete.
" I was thinking about a snowman waltzing." He laughed lowly, it's sound buzzing inside your skin, you didn't get why.
" Why ? "
" Umm...to last longer because.. because I would have come just by the way you looked at me."
" I was looking like a perv ?! " You huffed, he glanced up, his mouth easing your hardened nipple, speaking around it.
" Oh yes, like you couldn't get enough of me, you have compromised me, now you must marry me to keep my virtue entact." He sucked back again, you chuckled, feeling the corner of your eyes glistented with tears.
It was several moments gone, his head on your chest as you scatched his scalp, untangling his hair and occasionally pulling him for a kiss, he was still inside you, coaxing inside your warmness, relishing.
" Benedict." You whispered, not bothering if he had slept already.
" Huh." He mumbled softly, heavy with sleep.
" You're my best friend." you knew what it was, you are in love.
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merrinla · 9 months
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Murals in the Thorm mausoleum
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Moonrise Towers Moonrise Towers depicted with a pale moonish beauty.
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Grief The elegiac hues reveal a father seized by the worst kind of loss imaginable.
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General Before the towers strides a dark-eyed man leading an army of Shar worshippers.
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beezonia · 1 month
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Princess Makoto of the Kingdom, Selene
(is this me selfishly plugging in a shumako sailor moonish au, fuck yeah)
——
In this case Sae would be queen of selene and makoto would be it’s heir by default since she’s Sae’s only sister
Akira would be the prince of earth or a rival kingdom
they meet and fall in love even though Sae and Akira’s father sojiro (adopted or was he potentially a son of sojiro’s kid?) are always butting heads which means their kingdoms hold a bit of a grudge against each other
but take this little drabble because my brain is still actively thinking of lore
——
Wine coloured eyes meet onyx ones, blinking adjusting to the new light they���ve found. They soon widen and their owner instantly recoils behind the tree she stood by.
“You weren’t being subtle, princess.”
It’s followed by silence, she really doesn’t want to come out from where she stands. Is the princess just shy, or just embarrassed about falling from the tree branches above her?
“I just wanted to see you again.” It’s barely audible, but Akira manages to hear the words that slip from her mouth.
It’s like candy floss, sweet and soft.
The young prince steps forward, a slight smirk on his face as he watches Makoto shuffle the other way.
She’s trying to get away from him and his teasing.
“You can say it again, I don’t bite princess~“
She’s flustered instantly, her face matching her eyes now. Aww how sweet!
Makoto really did love him.
——-
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moonlightsdreaming · 1 year
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Sailor Moon | "Moonish Girls"
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Persona
Sometimes I imagine starlight staining my skin
the sheen of a moon-shaped pool, its waves & ripples in
frequency of sonic catharsis. So what of this silver-lined chrysalis? How
it shields me during my darkest hours when the characters I wear daily
come off, as I sulk into the antithesis of my ego, how that too is like a persona.
From the Latin for mask. Like a reflection of myself in metamorphosis.
But I might be my most honest self under a moonish filter.
In an alternate universe I also imagine the word “person”
doesn’t come from Latin but French. “Per” like for each
& “son” like sound. Perhaps I prefer this poetic license that
lets me tell you that I love the songs your light sings
especially when no one else is around.
-XY
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moonstalkerwerewolf · 10 days
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The Perfect Organism
Finally drew a Xenomorph, because I love these weird and terrifying alien monstrosities. Artwork © @moonstalkerwerewolf.
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damedechance · 1 year
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» read on ao3 (3/5) » listen to playlist » start over (pt 1)
Pairing: Feysand
Rating: E (like, very much so)
Summary: How unseemly it was–for a professor to be alone in his office with a student like this. With the door shut behind them, hazy morning light and flexing fingers between them. Indecent, really.
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read snippet below:
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
dont_ignore_me.eml
Early morning light streamed in through the windows, a light mist collected over them and casting everything in a muted, silvery blue. The overhead light was off, but someone had turned on his desk light, because their hands were illuminated by a dull yellow glow as they retracted each finger into a fist, and hid them behind their back.
Feyre Archeron whirled around, her features already preemptively arranged in defiance. Her jaw tight, eyes narrowed, chin tipped up. But the way she had jumped the second he walked in–and the light flush of pink over her cheeks–betrayed any sort of daring she wished to convey.
Did I scare you?
He exhaled, a sharp burst of air from his lungs that instantly melted the strained grin on his face into something loose and delirious. He allowed himself to collapse, shoulder against the doorframe, and put both hands in his pockets so that she wouldn’t see them shaking.
To lay eyes upon her was an indulgence, one he consumed greedily. All the rivulets of bronze that cascaded over her shoulders. Misty blue eyes that bore into him, these moonish globes over stardusted cheeks and a frown that shouldn’t have been so endearing, but his eyes were caught swinging back and forth over that dipping shape again and again.
While his fingertips burned. She wore a plush cream sweater, just barely tucked at the front. He could have pulled it loose in an instant, had his hands underneath it and stretching across her skin in as much time as it took him to take a breath. He’d have her mesmerizing little sighs pressed up against his ear–unpolluted by wires or static.
I want to draw you.
An impulse that made complete sense to him, now, as his eyes traced this mere inch of skin revealed by the space between the hem of her pleated skirt and the top of her socks. He’d like to trace it with his fingers instead, feel her hands gripping his arms, his shoulders, his hair–shoving him down.
She was wearing boots, and she tapped the toe of one against the heel of the other as she fidgeted beneath his focus.
“Hello, Feyre darling,” Rhysand said, eyes flicking back up to her face.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Tag List: @melting-houses-of-gold, @areyoudreaminof, @starfall-spirit, @octobers-veryown, @sourlemons262, @bibliophiliaxvignette, @shadowriel, @freyjas-musings, @headcanonheadcase, @rhysiedarling, @dxnniiix, @sunshinebingo, @tothestarsandwhateverend, @asnowfern, @separatist-apologist, @corcracrow, @thelovelymadone, @lulling-night-sky, @foundress0fnothing, @ultadverb [Pls let me know if you'd like to be removed or added, no pressure at all!]
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vojoforto · 7 months
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chronurgy · 6 months
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Vesper/Gortash + pink camellia
Thanks for the ask!
Pink camellia: where I notice your absence the most
There is never anyone at his right.
That is where they always stood. He draws and loads left handed, so this arrangement ensured he would not bump them in the middle of some delicate spell in battle. And then it was just where they always were. Him at their left, them at his right. That is always where he turns to look for them. His right hand man, as it were. They are never there - in the streets, in the foundry, in his study, in his bed - and yet he is forever looking to his right. There is no point in keeping his right ear pricked. He will not hear the scratching of their quill or the tapping of their fingers or their quiet "hmmms" of thought. There is no one to his right. There will not be anyone at the right-hand desk to bounce ideas off of, to correct his calculations, to present him with a more spectacular design. He looks anyway. Force of habit.
He has no right hand Banite. He never needed one. He never trusted one. The most brilliant strategist alive had sat already enthroned on his right. What use had he for others? What use had he for the light of the moon when he stood to the left of the sun? But now the sun is gone. Night has blackened the sky and still he finds he cannot tolerate some pale and moonish imitation of the glory that had once been his to stand beside. He appoints no one to stand at his right. Let the space stand empty. Let it be an open wound, a testament to the missing and lost. He's not sure he could bear the disappointed rage that would well up his throat were he to look back for them and see someone else. He knows he could not tolerate a stupid remark from the same quarter. There's no need for him to go around killing perfectly useful underlings for the crime of not being them.
He feels it so keenly, this gap in the world. They had spent much and more time together as the plan had come to fruition and he finds that he had come to rely upon them. Alone he was brilliant. With them, he had been something else entirely. Two intellects such as theirs focused on the same purpose had allowed them achievements that no single mortal could have even comprehended alone. They had not been two, but one - a single great force bearing down upon the world below. At times he feels with them gone that there is not only a hole in the world but in him as well, as though some soft and fleshy inner part of him had taken its leave along with them. Or perhaps he had handed it out to them willingly, long ago, and their proximity had simply prevented him from knowing its absence until now. How could he know? The why of it, the how, that had always been their domain.
There is no one to his right. Only a hole in the world that he cannot bear to fill. And there is nothing in his chest but a gaping void that he cannot fill, no matter the drink and bodies he plies it with. None of it can cover the taste of dead air, can hide the bellowing silence that echoes from his right. Better that than nothing. Better this half haunted state than the true agonies of utter isolation.
He leaves his right open, he knows. The action of a paired fighter. He should practice. Lean back into his old ways. Remember more keenly how to stand alone. He should.
He doesn't.
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