⠾ ㅤㅤ ●ㅤㅤ ♪ㅤㅤ ❤︎︎ຶ⵿ ࣪ㅤ݁ ── FALLIN' LOVE
=IT'S WONDERLAND! ⋰˚εεεεε (><*)ノ 🐇
you’re strewn messily, lying on the root of a tree, mind aimlessly wandering. boring, boring, bored. bleh. but then you see me: white rabbit. curious and many other things. eccentric in every way. i also am running late. jump into a rabbit-hole with your morbid curiosity for me wouldya?
the year is 1989. pop culture is loud and blaring, the politics are going to shit, but things in the small town of derry, maine seem to be stuck and frozen following an eery cycle. for every 27 years, someone something rises from the dark underground. something ancient. something cosmic and far beyond human understanding. it kills. ravages. consumes. 8 kids. 1 summer. with too much time to pass on their hands, and scars that go deeper than the average scab on their knees, this is your classic coming-of-age small town rom-com served hot with a dash of manic bullies and murderous killer clown . . .
they say blood runs thicker than water, but clearly whoever said so hadn’t visited zaun, where blood flowed equally as soft among the city’s meagre polluted streams. grimy, stricken with smog, poverty, crippling fear and disease, it is all but a testament, a paradox challenging mighty piltover with its gold plated citizens and hi-fi soil. what happens when piltie princess; sweet ananya iyer, daughter of the two most influential councilmen of piltover’s esteemed finds herself a little too curious to her own good, leather and knife strapped tight around her delicate skin as she wanders around zaun? and what if she were to be followed by an equally curious young’n with green eyes, piercing and sharp to match the striking scar on his face— and they clash? an age-old story follows; boy stalks girl, girl punches guy in the face; they fight like street dogs on and off til reluctantly they’re forced to proximity and shed their pride as they face the embarrassment of getting to know each other and how the other might be their only salvation in a world struck by smoking privilege, betrayal and a magic that pulses beneath the walls . . .
meet krishnaveni iyer, brooklyn— nay new york— nay the world’s— yeah you get it, worst detective. ever. like ever ever. find her at brooklyn’s 99th precinct any day, being a total, awesome, amazingly horrible detective, misguiding every single case that comes her way, of course sharing some with her coolcoolcoolcooooool partner, jake peralta, who saves the day in the end with his nonchalant swag and composed professionalism. he’s john mcclane incarnate. maybe hotter. some of iyer’s aliases are “detective horrible detective”, “poopy mcpoopy pants” and the famed [REDACTED. SOME INSANE PENIS JOKE] . . .
two ancient houses of old magic. two heirs, brilliant, chilling and marvellous in their cold ways. and a prophecy, whispered, broken, passed through generations that binds them together— towards a fate of ultimate revelry that will change magic as it is forever. or, you know, mother, please, I do not want to hear about that wretched rat, Vane, again. Introducing Ananya Iyer and Vincent Vane. they’ve been taught many things: to hold your head high during conversations, to never grip your wand too tight (how so…un-noble!) but mostly, to hate each other . . .
7 children. a summer spent in an isolated, dinosaur infested island. what could possibly go wrong? everything. watch as time and time again, these children prove to be recklessly brave, misfits of their own kind, and escape horrors that’d send any sane adult on the verge of wetting their morally grey sweatpants.
shudder awake, all just a dream. silly, silly dream. what the fuck even is “reality shifting” anyways? back to your lonesome, mildly annoying day dreams of domestic tirades . . .