#at least Ivan is almost over.

[rpfofficial]

character wrapped 2023 💥

tagged by @davidtennantpussytulpa ^-^ i didn't know how many to do so i copied tara and did top 10. i know the severance guys are Four Of Them but i can't separate them theyre all equally important to me

will graham (hannibal), em haywood (nope), aziraphale (good omens), mark & dylan & helly & irving (severance), hawkeye pierce (mash), martha jones (doctor who), ivan karamazov (the brothers karamazov), kim kitsuragi (disco elysium), stewy hosseini (succession), ruescott melshi (andor/rogue one)

i will tag... @fagician @britomart @libraryfag @roadwhores @majorbaby @globuspolski @hadleyfraserfaggot @tenderscience if u want to ^-^

[nopanamaman]

What’s the deal with Tsar and Arthur?

Today we’ll look at the two most popular members of Sanya and Yura’s friend group, Tsar and Arthur, a.k.a. Anger Management. How did they meet? What’s their life like? And most importantly, why the hell are they so angsty?

Let’s start with the older one.

Arthur Sokolov

Joining the orphanage

Arthur was brought to the orphanage not long after being born. He never met any of his parents.

Growing up in a state-funded shelter meant developing a clear understanding of what kinds of behaviours will and won’t result in getting your shit kicked in. You can’t be too cocky, and you can’t be too weak. Follow the hierarchy, but don’t let your fear of elders show.

Arthur learned to navigate that little society well. He had earned respect among kids his own age and younger, and avoided being pushed around by the older teenagers too much. Less due to a noble heart and more because of being too proud to act like a doormat. 

However, that didn't make him immune to peer pressure.

Correctional psychiatry

Business trip.

Many low-end orphanages across the former USSR had been essentially transformed into incubators for future gang members. “Businessmen”, either by bribe or threat, came to these institutions to recruit impressionable children into their organisations. One such uncle visited Arthur’s foster home.

For kids like him, the course of action was simple:

misbehave;

get sent to a mental institution for corrective treatment;

sneak as many bottles of trihexyphenidyl as you can into your bag during your stay;

leave the hospital as normal;

transfer the trihexyphenidyl to a gang representative and get your paycheck.

Under that business model, Arthur became a frequent guest at psychiatric wards. Having witnessed their indifference and medical callousness firsthand, he had developed a massive disdain for all kinds of mental health professionals.

It started even before joining the gang, of course – way before. It’s hard not to foster a vendetta when you get thrown to the looney bin for any misstep. At first he tried to honestly convince the doctors working there that he was fine, but he eventually realised it was futile: they were always in on the punishment.

Hustling continues

Arthur and Ivan at 15 and 17 respectively.

As Arthur grew older, he got more deeply involved with the gang’s activities alongside other kids. This meant participating in transfers, standing watch during certain deals, acting as a “treasure man” (i.e. hiding drugs in agreed upon places for clients to pick up), and so on. Fights were frequent.

He knew it was a slippery slope, but getting out was not an option – not an easy one, at least. This was the period during which he grew close to Ivan, who was commonly assigned to work with Arthur and other children from their institute.

They bonded on the basis of wanting to leave the business, though for different reasons: most of all, Ivan didn’t want to disappoint his grandma.

Getting out

First meeting with Yura.

The sudden disbandment of the gang was a relief to both Ivan and Arthur. A major member got caught and ratted almost everyone out, except for the dozens of orphans involved. So while Ivan went to turn himself in, Arthur got to walk free.

Before going, Ivan suggested Arthur replace him at his pop’s car repair salon. The boy seemed to have a knack for fixing things, and the two had developed a trusting relationship over their time working together.

While everything was looking fine, Arthur still wanted to destroy all traces of his activities - even those that couldn’t reasonably be tracked down to him. This led to him encountering Yura. Despite the very rocky start of their acquaintance, they went on to hang out together pretty regularly.

As of today, Arthur continues to do part-time at the workshop alongside Ivan. Both are committed to never getting back into the criminal business. Unless you count Sanya's Dynamo. Which you shouldn't. Having experienced what actual gangs are like, Arthur finds it hard not to look down at the girl's little roleplay.

Tsar

Joining the orphanage

Before coming to the orphanage, Tsar lived with his grandma. She died when he was 6. Since his parents had lost their parental rights due to alcoholism a couple years prior, there was only one place for him to go.

Tsar had a very hard time adjusting to the rigid hierarchy of the foster home. He was lucky enough to catch Arthur's attention and, in a sense, got scooped under his wing. The boy disliked relying on the older kid too much, but was too weak to stand on his own.

Gang involvement

How come mom lets you have two trips to the mental ward

Since Arthur got dragged into gang activities earlier than Tsar, the younger kid felt jealous. He, like most other children, fully bought into the romanticised idea of criminal life that was pushed by the uncles visiting the orphanage.

But as years went on, he saw the toll it had begun to take on Arthur. Tsar had taken a couple of correctional trips to mental wards as well, though he'd never participated in any illegal schemes. Those times were bad enough - he couldn't imagine going there again and again on purpose.

By the time Tsar would be old enough to get recruited into the business, Arthur forbade him from it. The kid still wanted to join to prove his worth, to earn his share, to show his guts. But his trust and respect for Arthur were stronger.

As much as he hated the idea, he stuck to the sidelines.

Contact with parents

Teatime with family.

Tsar’s parents reached out to him a couple years after he was transferred to the orphanage. He could only meet with them under supervision up until he was 13 years old. Afterwards they were allowed private meetings.

Today, he occasionally comes to visit them at their apartment. They still drink, but to Tsar, they just seem quiet and pitiful. He usually lends them the pocket money he receives from the orphanage. He knows they won't return it.

Anger Management

Ural models are known for their incredible durability and a baffling number of switches.

Tsar found a creative release in music and wrote songs to vent his frustrations. The orphanage had an old acoustic guitar that he learned to play, but it got completely broken when the boy was 13. After Arthur joined the workshop, he bought a black Ural from Ivan’s dad for cheap, upgraded its port, and gifted it to Tsar.

As it turned out, Ivan’s dad was hopping from one band to another in the 80s-90s, so he was happy to accommodate the kids' creative endeavours. He allowed them to use the spare garage space to practise and even supplied an incomplete drum set.

Tsar begged Arthur to back him up with drums. The latter begrudgingly agreed to learn them, but ended up really enjoying hitting barrels with sticks. Right now their band has a tiny local following, mostly in the face of Sanya Kazarina.

Some notes

I remember sitting down and reading about actual orphanage experiences in the post-soviet space – it was eye-opening, but also gave me a lot of material to work with, as heartless as that probably sounds. A lot of things simply clicked into place.

I didn't go into too much detail here, but FYI, I've downplayed the severity of certain situations. Trauma aside, I'd say both Tsar and Arthur got quite lucky in the end.

[kasagia]

Secret affairs

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x fem!grisha! reader Summary: Rumours and whispers are circulating in the Little Palace that General Kirigan has found himself a mysterious woman with whom he spends his nights. One morning Ivan learns that the rumours are true. Fedyor will not rest until he finds out who their Black General's new lover is—who is the one who makes him much less grumpy. Requested by: @drinix (I AM SOOOO SOOO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME AGES! BUT I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT, HONYE!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤) Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

One morning, Aleksander sips his coffee and looks through the reports Ivan has just delivered to his desk. He has a meeting with his colonels in a few minutes, and he's struggling with his lack of sleep. At least this time, he has a better reason to stay up late than answering letters and planning new battle tactics.

He smiles, remembering the night he spent with you. He runs a hand over his jaw, trying to shake the thought of you beneath him. How you trembled at his every little touch, the sweet sounds you made as he struck your most sensitive spots with pinpoint precision, how wonderful you looked sprawled out on the bed, a clean, quivering mess as he tasted you to his liking…

"Forgive me, General, but I can't find your kefta." Ivan's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Aleksander absentmindedly picks up the reports again, knowing full well that he has to read them before he goes to any meetings, and, ignoring Ivan a bit, mumbles under his breath, asking him to repeat what he just said. "I can't find your kefta, sir."

"My kefta?" Aleksander repeats, surprised. Ivan has never had any problems with this simple task before. Suddenly he remembers why his heartrender can't find his keft. "I must have left it at hers." Aleksander mutters under his breath, unaware that he is saying it so loudly that Ivan can hear him.

Heartrender frowns and stares at his general in shock as he casually takes his reports and heads to the main war room for a meeting.

As soon as Ivan enters the room, he meets the questioning gaze of his beloved. Feydor immediately notices how pale and nervous Ivan has become and that his heart is beating a little faster. He decides to ask him what happened. And a few hours later, Ivan confirms to Feydor the rumours that have been circulating in the Little Palace.

General Kirigan had a secret affair.

"I can't believe it! Him?" Alina's whisper reaches you as you sit down at the table right next to Fedyor.

"Who are we gossiping about? The healer who almost broke a bone in one of the Inferni yesterday while so-called healing?"

"No. Ivan couldn't find the general's kefta this morning. And when he told him, he mumbled that he must have left it at HERS. Do you understand? At HERS. HER. SHE. A WOMAN."

"Yes, Fedyor. I understood at first time when you said it." You laugh at his excitement about this new rumour.

"No you don't! You don't know what it means if you are not at least as interested and excited as me or Alina." Fedyor informs you in a very serious way.

You roll your eyes at his foolish behaviour and looks at Aleksander who is coming into the great hall. In his black kefta.

"No way! It must be someone from the Little Palace! Look at him, he is wearing it now! Someone had to give it to him." Fedyor whispers conspiratorially to the three of you, staring at the general.

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused when the man quickly feigns interest in his food as Aleksander's gaze falls on the three of you. He nods at you and leaves the room.

"Sorry, duties." You say and take an apple from the table. "Try not to interrogate everyone around you about the general's new beloved. She may get embarrassed or scared and leave him and he'll become a pain in our asses again." You tease him and leave him and Alina to discuss this new revelation.

You walk quickly through the hallway of the Little Palace, practically running after Aleksander. You burst into his war room and before you can say a word, his lips are on yours.

You moan softly, surprised by the suddenness of his kiss. You tangle your hands in his hair and hum against his mouth as he slips his tongue into your mouth, pinning you against the door. You’re breathless as he practically devours you, drinking in all your moans and whimpers of pleasure as his large, strong hands caress the cheeks of your ass.

"I was thinking about it since I left your side." He mumbles, pressing small kisses to your jaw. You sigh, digging your hands into the collar of his kefta and pushing him away from you with a heavy heart, but you have to get the message across to him before you get lost in each other again.

"You have to be more careful. Fedyor got something out of Ivan and knows you have a mistress."

"So you are my secret mistress now?" He asks, chuckling against your neck. You bite your lip as his beard teasingly grazes your neck, plump lips nipping at your skin.

"Call me that again and you will be comming back from my chamber to yours all naked." You growl, but your threat carries little fear as Aleksander begins to unbutton your own kefta.

"You wouldn't dare..." He mumbles against your skin and all you can do is tug on his hair in retaliation as he traces his marks across your collarbone and moves lower, approaching the valley between your breasts.

"So sure?" You gasp, trying your best to remain intimidate to him, but it is a challenge when his fingers work so smoothly in undressing you.

"Uh-huh." He mumbles and kisses you again, this time more forcefully than last time, making your legs buckle slightly. He holds you tightly by the waist and lifts you up, navigating through his room and laying you on his bed, which is filled with books.

"I... um... sorry. I should have cleaned up here." He mumbles to himself and throws the books to the floor in his haste. You laugh at him and grab his arm.

"I don't mind... besides it will be quite hard to explain why you suddenly clean your rooms without any suspicion about this new lover of yours." You tease him with a smirk, but he doesn't seem to share your good humour at all.

He's lost in thought, stroking your cheek with his thumb thoughtfully and not responding to your teasing, just staring at you sprawled beneath him, shadows slowly creeping out of his control and draping over the foot of the bed.

"Shouldn't we... make this official?" He asks, staring at you with those night-dark eyes of his. You shiver, surprised by his question.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat and control your slight panic attack as he continues to stare at you, waiting patiently waiting for your answer and searching your face carefully for any reaction.

"What for? That's... quite a comfortable... deal we are in. Besides, I don't want them to talk that I am your second-in-command just because I slept with you. And I thought you liked that our relationship is strictly private and well... not to anyone's eyes?"

"Yeah... yeah, I do. You probably are right. Having you in the darkness is much more entertaining than in the daylight."

You know from the way he frowns slightly that this isn't the answer he was expecting. But if anything, Aleksander is a pathological people-pleaser. So he doesn't say anything about his true feelings about the secrecy of your relationship and instead leans in for a kiss.

Which subconsciously makes you feel incredibly guilty.

"Come here... let me help you relax, moi soverenyi." You moan against his lips and straddle him, deciding that this afternoon you will serve your general.

But no matter how many kisses you press into his skin, how many marks you leave, or how many times you make him moan your name, you still feel a burning feeling of guilt inside.

You try with all your might to focus your attention solely on giving him as much pleasure as possible, but your thoughts involuntarily wander to his proposal. You weren't ready to show the two of you to the world yet. You weren't ready for the judgemental looks from others. You'd rather everything stay the way it was. Just you and Aleksander, your little secret, stole kisses and nights between each other's sheets.

You were completely happy with that. But as you can see, your Sasha wanted more.

And you weren't entirely sure if you could give it to him now.

You wake up blissfully aching. Aleksander's shadows float across his bedroom, obscuring the entire room, blocking out any sunlight. You turn your gaze to the man whose chest your head rests on.

You smile, watching the sleeping shadow summoner. It's rare to see him so... calm, rested. Unable to stop yourself, you run your hand along the line of his jaw and gently cup his bearded cheek. You stroke it with your thumb, drinking in his appearance, enjoying every tiny hickey you've left on him.

You lean down and kiss him sweetly, slowly, unhurriedly, enjoying the softness of his lips and the roughness of his beard. Kissing him had always been a surreal feeling for you. Sometimes you couldn't believe that you could actually press your lips against his and declare your claim to the most powerful Grisha that existed.

You feel him start to wake up as the kiss continues. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly by the waist, rolling you so you're straddling him as he kisses you passionately, hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, feeling his manhood press against you as if last night hadn't worn him out.

You run your hands over his chest and slowly settle yourself on him. You sigh as the head of his cock slowly opens your soaked walls. It feels so good and so damn full, as you settle yourself completely on him, as you become one. You bite your lip and hold your breath as he sits up, wrapping his arms around you tightly, digging his fingers into your back.

"Y/N..." He murmurs into your ear and kisses his lobe. You sigh, feeling him perfectly fill every little space of you.

"Morning." You gasp as he pushes you onto your back, hovering over you. He sucks hickies on your neck, mumbling quiet good mornings against your skin as he lazily thrusts into you.

You wriggle and moan beneath him, trying to press yourself as close to him as you can. There’s no space between you as he claims you with every thrust, destroying you for any other man. You sigh as he presses his lips to yours, kissing you possessively, stealing your breath with each deep, hard thrust into you.

He trails his kisses down your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he caresses your lips. You moan his name loudly as he suddenly sucks onto your breast.

He smiles evilly against your skin. Aleksander revels in the way you dig your nails into his shoulders as he works tirelessly to please you. He loved seeing you like this. Hair tousled against his black sheets, eyes closed from the rush of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet moan of his name when all you could think about was him. That was when you felt truly his. And it was a pleasant change for him to know that someone belonged to him, that he owned someone. It was just a shame he couldn't claim you in the sunlight as well.

A sudden movement in the war room makes you both freeze. Aleksander stares at his bedroom door and instinctively raises his shadows, causing them to wrap around the two of you defensively.

"General, we got a report from the west border with Fjerda..." Fedyor's voice trails off in the realization as the heartrender realizes he hears two heartbeats in Darkling's bedroom. Two fast heartbeats. "I... um... should I come later?"

"Preferably." Your lover responds, still on his guard.

You listen for Fedyor's footsteps and sigh in relief as he walks away. You laugh uncontrollably, which earns a soft chuckle from Aleksander. His heart heats up as he watches fondly as you laugh beneath him at the absurdity of the situation.

"Oh my dear saints. He's going to be so determined to find out who you're hiding under the sheets."

"Yes... probably." He replies. You frown thoughtfully, but you quickly distract yourself when he moves again. You moan, biting your lower lip and digging your fingers into his arm as he reaches deep, hitting that weak spot inside you that sends tingles throughout your body. "But you'll manage, right, milaya?"

You nodded, unable to utter any coherent sounds. He smiles pure evil and continues to pound into you at a punishing, rapid pace. You bite your lip, almost drawing blood as you try not to moan his name too loudly in the darkness of his chambers.

Yep... you definitely loved your stolen mornings with him.

A few hours later, you smile to yourself as you pack your things. Due to suspicious activity by the Fjerdans on the border, Aleksander decided to go and see for himself what was going on. You were supposed to be on the lookout for Morozova's stag.

Despite the sudden events of today, you couldn't just forget about the morning spent with him. The thought of it made you blush, and a smile appeared on your lips. Lost in thoughts about the shadow summoner, you didn't even register when Zoya entered your room with a packed backpack.

"Oh saints, you had sex!" You jump suddenly at her excited squeal and stare at her like a deer caught in the light of a hunter's torch.

"I beg you pardon?"

"You had sex! You're glowing, relaxed, and oh my, you're blushing like a teenager! Who's that? Do I know him? Handsome? What order is he from? Or maybe it is she?" She bombards you with excited questions. You hide your face in your hands, not wanting to watch her wicked smile as she settles on your bed, staring at you intently.

"I... have no idea what are you talking about."

Before you can somehow defend yourself from her accusations, you are interrupted by a knock on your door. Fedyor enters with his things, all excited, with Ivan hot on his heels.

"Y/N, you won't believe it! He really does have someone! You have to tell me if you saw anyone in the corridors leading to his quarters last night when you were leaving his chambers after the night briefing. Remember every detail, I need to know everything."

"Y/N had sex with some mysterious lover." Zoya briefs Fedyor before either of you can add anything to the man's long rant.

Ivan raises a surprised eyebrow at you, silently analysing the information in his head. You see the gears turning in his head, and as he connects the dots—as Alexander's closest confidant after you—he blushes. You shake your head slightly, staring at him as Fedyor and Zoya exchange gossip. He swallows and nods silently. You note it as a problem for later and turn your gaze to the two excitedly gossiping Grisha.

"I can't believe it! You too?! Who is it?! With your busy schedule with Kirigan, I didn't think I'd have time to find anyone, but here you are. Is it that handsome inferni? The one who's going on the mission with us and has been hanging around you for ages?"

"I… would prefer to keep my… boyfriend's privacy for now. It's a quite new thing, we're… testing if we're a good fit." You stammer, explaining yourself, knowing full well that you can't deny these two for long. They would have known the truth anyway. You're terrified of the moment when they realize that you and Aleksander are something more.

"Oh, I understand that perfectly. Ivan and I went through the same thing, right, honey?"

"Yeah..." Ivan mumbles thoughtfully and continues to stare at you in shock. However, Fedyor is too lost in his conspiracy theory to pay attention to his significant other's behavior. For which you silently thank the saints above.

Eventually, you all gather up and head for the stables. Zoya and Fedyor mumble something to each other in the front, and you and Ivan follow. You decide that this is a good time to approach him and ask for discretion.

"You know, don't you?" Ivan stares at you for a moment, then nods silently. You swallow hard, nervously playing with the sleeve of your kefta. “Listen… can we keep this between us? I… I doubt it’s a good idea to talk about all this now. He doesn't need to have such rumours running about us in the Little Palace."

Ivan nods at you, agreeing with your words. But you can see that something is bothering him. For a moment he grits his teeth in silence, but then he mumbles under his breath, barely audible.

"He seems… less tense. Less worried." You blush along with him. You clear your throat and turn your gaze to the walls of the corridors you pass, thinking of a… neutral response to his observation.

"I... I guess he is."

"I think… I want to say… it's good that he has you." You look at him in surprise, almost tripping on the exit steps as he says this. The blush deepens on your cheeks as you think about what he told you. "Everyone needs their own Fedyor."

You smile, seeing his gaze on his other half. And perhaps for the first time you see that they actually fit together, and Ivan is worthy of your best friend. You wonder involuntarily if Aleksander looks at you like that when you don't see...

"Yeah... I think you are right. Thank you, Ivan. You are a good friend. For both of us. Well, mostly to him." You say, referring to Aleksander. Ivan nods in silent agreement.

This strange harmony between you seems to be going strong. You are united by one goal. The good of your shadow summoner.

The four of you reach the stables. Alexei - the inferni, who as Fedyor mentioned was supposed to join your mission and had a crush on you quite openly, runs up to you quickly. But your eyes and attention are focused only on the general. Or rather, on the general and his sun summoner, as other Grishas maliciously called it.

Your blood boils, a strange feeling of jealousy hits you like a hunter's shotgun hits an animal, and you can't even do anything about it as Alina is clearly flirting with him. All you can do is stand there and try to swallow the bile of jealousy with dignity as Alina adjusts the collar of Aleksander's kefta. He somehow senses your burning gaze on him, but you quickly turn away and mount your horse without even waiting for his reaction.

He's lucky you're not official yet. And that it'll be hours before you can calm down before you can talk to him in private. But you're starting to understand why keeping your relationship a secret no longer works for the Black General. Especially when you see the way his jaw clenches when you laugh at some joke of Alexei's, causing the young inferni to give you lovey-dovey puppy eyes, to which you wink back.

You may have been cruel, but the knowledge that your lover was as jealous of you as you were of him calmed you down a bit and lifted your spirits. And if by any chance you made sure that Alina rode with you and away from Aleksander during the journey, that wasn't intentional at all. Not at all.

"So... Ivan knows." Aleksander comments as you lay in his tent, wrapped in his arms.

Ivan stood guard over your small camp while the rest slept. You decided to take the opportunity to sneak in on your shadow summoner to share the revelation. And maybe just a little to steal a few kisses and hugs from him.

"Indeed." You mumble, playing with his fingers that are slowly dripping shadows.

You bring one of his fingertips to your lips and press a small kiss there, which makes Aleksander's heart melt even more for you. He tightens his grip around you and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head before resting his bearded cheek on it with a small sigh.

"Well... sonner or later Fedyor will figure it out too. It's just the matter of time."

"Maybe... that's why I want to enjoy you in privacy for as long as I can." You prop yourself up on your elbow and lean in to steal a quick kiss. You pull away from him with a smile, but you frown, not finding any of the malice in his eyes that he would normally have at this gesture. Something was wrong.

"Y/N... Don't you think that's enough? We've been going around each other for a long time. I think the rest should know about us." A cold shiver runs through you at his words.

You try to control your heartbeat, but you know perfectly well that you are no longer able to hide your emotions from him so well. He knew you as well as you knew him.

He knew that you were not exactly keen on making your relationship public. That is why you cannot lie and pretend that it is not so. You have to convince him to change his mind somehow... but how?

"But it's so sexy to have you all to myself, a secret from everyone. Don't you love the thrill every time we sneak around each other for a kiss or something more?"

"I like that. But I don't like that I can't hold your hand outside the four walls of our chambers. I don't like that I can't go up to you and kiss you when you look so lovely after training with Fedyor or Zoya. I don't like that I have to watch others flirt with you and touch what's mine. I don't like that I can't make your cheeks blush in front of others. I don't like that I can't look at you for as long as I want without suspicion. I don't like that I can't play with your hair during particularly boring council meetings. I don't like that I have to hide the fact that I love you."

His confession hits you harder than any punch Baghra had ever given you during training. You swallow hard and kneel down next to him, watching him carefully as you try to process what he’d just told you.

"You... love me?"

"I do. And if it is not enough for you to make it public... I don't know if I can go on like this anymore. I don't know if I can keep my trembling hands from reaching for you in the light of day, not just in the darkness of night or my shadows. I need more. I need all of you, Y/N."

You stare at him, utterly shocked by his sudden confession. His words both overwhelm you and warm your heart, but it's not enough to quell the panic rising within you.

Because as much as you want to be his, as much as you want him to be yours, you know that the members of the Second Army won't look so... favourably on your romance. Besides the public opinion... you're afraid that once the thrill of excitement and mystery wears off, Aleksander's feelings for you will fade dramatically and he'll realise that you're not a good match at all and that Alina would be a better choice for him.

"I... it's hard for me... to give you an answer now." You mumble, watching anxiously as his brow furrows, face darkening as he retreats back into his shell and tries to hide his true emotions from you.

"I thought it should be easy. You either want me or not."

"I want you." You respond quickly, reaching out for his arm in panic and holding it in a tight, almost bruising grip. The desperation on your face makes Aleksander sigh with relief inside. You cared. That was for sure. So why do you hesitate for so long and postpone the inevitable?

"Then why do you insist on keeping us hidden?"

You don't answer. You know he'll think your uncertainty about his feelings is baseless and pointless. You think it's stupid. But you can't escape the overwhelming feeling that the moment your romance stops being a tightrope, his feelings for you will burn out like a candle. And you really wanted to keep him by your side.

Your silence, however, is not what he wants. Or something that could help you stop him. He nods silently and stands up from your makeshift bed of blankets.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside. I'll take guard duty for Ivan." He replies emotionlessly. You swallow nervously and sit up, following him with your eyes as he puts on his black coat as he is giving you a cold arm.

"Aleksander." You whisper with a pained tone in your voice. He stops for a moment and gives you a long, haunted look. He sighs and shakes his head at your silence and walks out of the tent, leaving you alone.

The lump in your throat grows and tears well up in your eyes. You close your eyelids and lift your head, taking a few calming breaths. You fucked this up. Not for the first time, but this time you really hoped you wouldn't get cold feet and that you'd somehow stifle that little voice in your head that had always questioned your worth.

Because you felt you weren't worthy of Aleksander. Yet for some twisted reason he thought you were perfect for him. Maybe this time you should take a chance and trust him? Trust that at the end of the day he'll decide you're enough and that you don't have to be a Sun Summoner to be his equal?

After a while, you stand up unsteadily and walk to the tent flap. You glance through it and freeze when you see Alina and Aleksander talking quietly by the fire. She says something to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, but instead of moving away from her touch, he seems to cling to her and answers her with one of those smiles that make your knees weak. You feel a painful stab in your heart. As if scalded, you jump away from the tent flap and lie back down in the pile of blankets.

You bury your nose in the material that has soaked in the scent of the Shadow Summoner and close your eyes as tears freely flow down your cheek and soak into the black fur. A hundred dark thoughts, doubts, and different scenarios in which Aleksander leaves you for Alina go through your head, and to be completely honest, you don't blame him. She was a real sun. How could you possibly compare to her? You were stupid and naive to think that he would stick to you when he could have her.

The only comfort you find is that at the end of your crying, when you had no more tears to shed and were only shaking uncontrollably, Alexander came back. He came back and practically silently laid down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest, burying his nose in your hair. He sighed quietly and ran his thumb over your waist, holding you so tightly as if you were the most important thing in his life, and he couldn't let you slip through his fingers.

You don't make a move, don't give any sign that you're awake. You spend the rest of the night half-awake as you try to memorize the way Aleksander holds you, the way he still wants to come back to your bed at night.

Because something tells you that this state of affairs won't last long.

"Just as I thought, you look adorable even after a week of horseback riding and searching for a group of Drüskelle." Alexei compliments you as you and Zoya return to camp after scouting. You let out an uncontrollable laugh at this, amused by the absurdity of his flirting, and join the group sitting around the campfire.

"It's a pity I can't say the same about you." You say spitefully and accept from Aleksander, who is sitting next to you, a stick with a fish that Fedyor and Alina had caught earlier. Aleksander takes another stick with a raw fish and starts roasting it again. Everyone else laughs at your remark, even Alexei.

"You'll see, one day I will melt your cold heart." You roll your eyes at this. Zoya, sitting next to you, hits your arm in amusement.

"Come on, Y/N. Tell us about this secret lover of yours. Maybe it will cool Alexei's ardor."

Fedyor perks up at Zoya's words and nods enthusiastically, while Aleksander, sitting next to you, tenses slightly. You see that his knuckles have been clenching around the stick since Alexei began his flirtation with you. You fear his further reaction to this conversation, which is heading in a rather dangerous direction.

"You have a lover?! Who beat me to it?" Everyone around you laughs at the exaggeratedly hurt tone of Inferni's voice and the way he dramatically aimed his fishing rod at you. You smile involuntarily and shake your head, trying your best to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks.

"Thanks for your concern, or rather curiosity, but my lover and I would rather keep our privacy. Besides, I can't talk about him left and right without his consent."

"Maybe it wouldn't bother him at all?" Aleksander comments, not looking at you, instead focussing his attention on the fish in the fire. You feel an uncomfortable feeling in your chest when he won't even look at you. The bitter feeling of guilt resurfaces within you, and you wonder how the hell you're supposed to fix what you've broken.

"Exactly! I don't care what you want, I wanna meet this guy who is the best sex you've ever had!" Zoya comments, practically making you choke on your own saliva and freeze in embarrassment.

Everyone around the fire is laughing at this and asking you snide questions about your mystery lover's… prowess. You glance briefly at Alexander and almost punch him in the arm when a smug, dark smile appears on his face. And from the mischievous glint in his eyes, you know he'll only put the final nail in the coffin of your embarrassment.

"The best sex you've ever had, you say?" He asks, amused, raising an eyebrow at you. You bite your lower lip and slam your shoulder into his, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall over the log. He laughs at your feeble attempt at attacking him.

"Oh, piss off." You snap at him but he just reaches over and ruffles your hair with his hand. It's only the deafening silence around you that makes you realize you've done something… wrong.

Everyone stares at Aleksander in shock, as if waiting for him to yell at you for overstepping his bounds, but he doesn't. You see genuine shock and surprise on their faces. Before your general can say anything, you take over, trying to save the day.

"What? Haven't you ever seen two good friends banter?" You sneer at them and nod at their sticks. "Your food will burn if you sit there with your mouths open and stare at us much longer."

Somehow your words disenchant them. They go back to their usual joking, teasing demeanour, and the camp buzzes with their conversations again. You glance at Aleksander, and you can see from his face that he doesn't like the way you've handled this. You know this was the perfect opportunity to admit you're together, but after what you saw last night—the way he acted with Alina—you got too scared to tell them. If they all didn't know you were together, maybe his inevitable departure would hurt less?

You flinch as your secret lover sitting next to you suddenly takes the stick with the fish out of your hands.

"You'll burn it if you stay in your tangled thoughts any longer." He grumbles and takes the fish off the stick. You see he's completely abandoned his in favor of preparing your meal. You nod with a smile as he hands you a slice of bread and seasons the fish with the spices you brought with you.

Unconsciously to you, someone's eyes are watching the two of you closely.

Aleksander thrusts the food under your nose. You instinctively lean forward and bite into the offered sandwich, used to him feeding you, most often in the late hours of the night, when you both sit in the war room and spend time planning new tactics. You glance around quickly, but fortunately the others are too busy with themselves to notice. Or so you think.

"You're going to burn your own fish." You notice and take your food from him.

He's holding his stick back, and you decide to give him a bite of his before he gets his food. After all, he practically made you yours. You make sure no one notices and feed Alexander. He hums and brushes his lips against your fingertips before licking them teasingly. You sigh and punch him in the arm, to which he just grins wolfishly at you and winks.

You feel warm just from your playful exchange. And as the darkness grows deeper, you reach for Aleksander's hand and hold it tightly, shielding it with the hem of your coat. You smooth your thumb over the back of his hand, laughing at the stories Zoya tells. Aleksander seems much less tense, and a little satisfied, when you hold his hand tightly in yours.

And while you think no one has noticed, they have. Or at least one of them has.

At some point, Aleksander gives you his coat, insisting in a quiet conversation between you that you'll freeze and get sick if you don't take it and that he'll be fine because he's survived winters much worse than this one, and with much thinner clothing.

Your heart aches that he's had such an experience, but for the sake of peace, you take the black coat from him. You blush when he whispers that when he gets back, he'll make sure David makes you one that matches his, so everyone knows you're his.

And when he presses his lips to your forehead to check that your body temperature isn't too low for his liking, Fedyor awkwardly reveals that he's been watching you.

"Saints, Fedyor!" Alina squeaks in panic as the heartrender somehow loses his balance on the log and almost falls into the fire.

He hadn't leaned any closer to hear what you were whispering, and he hadn't nearly fallen into the fire in shock when he was the only one to notice their general's affectionate treatment of you. Not at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him worriedly and kneel down next to him.

Fedyor swallows, trying hard not to show that he noticed the way Kirigan's gaze softens when he looks at you. He was such an idiot. How could he not have noticed that before?

"Yeah... yeah, I am fine. I should probably just go to sleep. Ivan?" Fedyor calls his beloved.

He helps him up and leads him to their tent. Before he can ask even one question about his well-being, Fedyor blurts out:

"Did you notice that Y/N and general are... very close?" Ivan at first seems not to react to his words. Fedyor only realises, through the very slight acceleration of his heartbeat, that perhaps his partner knows something more about... the unexpected connection between his best friend and the Black General. "Ivan... do you know what I think you know?"

"What do you think you know?" Ivan clears his throat awkwardly as they both enter their tent.

"Oh saints, you know right?! How long?! Was it that obvious?!"

Fedyor's mind flashes back to a million moments when your feelings for each other were painfully obvious. He remembers how Kirigan would let you playfully tease him, how he would always make sure you weren't overworking yourself and were eating the right amount of meals, and how he would look after your well-being. Hell, the general even delayed your trip to the fold because you were sick with a cold from your recent trip to Kertch! And he had behaved like a jilted, angry, resentful lover during those months! It was so painfully obvious that Kirigan was head over heels in love with you... but were you? Or was it just a passing fling? Fedyor had to know more.

"That's why we shouldn't get involved and let them decide for themselves… Fedyor, honey, where are you going?" Ivan asks confused as his other half runs out of the tent.

Fedyor throws a quick see you later over his shoulder and runs to your tent hoping to find you there so he can have a serious talk with you.

And fortunately he succeeds.

"You told Ivan, and you didn't tell me?! I am your best friend!" Fedyor shouts at the entrance to your tent. You stare at him, holding the report the falcon just delivered to you in your hands, as you are trying to understand what he means. You blush as you realise what he could be so angry about.

"I… since when did you…"

"Oh please. You've obviously been like this the whole time. I'm a fool for not making the connection. It's literally written all over his face that he loves you. What about you?" Fedyor sits on your blankets. Your palms are sweating and you put the reports on the ground, wondering how the hell you're going to get out of this situation now.

"I… it's complicated."

"Love is quite complicated. Maybe that's why you gave Alina a deadly look a few days ago when she was practicing her powers with the general? And you snapped at her, giving her a completely traumatic tantrum when she lost her sword?"

"I… it wasn't intentional and you know it." You mumble, blushing even more, but this time with embarrassment.

"It's a simple question Y/N. You either feel it or you don't. And from what I see, you probably also… reciprocate. Although it's clear that he fell much harder."

"You think?" You ask with a smirk, unable to help yourself at his comment. Fedyor nods and stands up. He walks over to the shadow and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Yes. And believe me, I don't blame him. If I didn't play for the same team, or didn't have similar tastes as you, it would be really hard for me not to fall in love with you."

"Yeah, I know. We'd be a great couple if you weren't gay." You laugh at him and pull him into a hug. "But don't tell Ivan or Kirigan that."

"Sure. We don't want to upset our grumps, do we?"

Your laughter is the first thing Aleksander hears as he approaches your tent. He opens the flap with one finger and sees you standing in Fedyor's arms, laughing. A cry of jealousy and a sudden need to take you in his arms and hide you from the other man pierce his mind for a moment, but he calms down, reminding himself that Fedyor... is no threat to him. At least not romantically.

"Can I interrupt?" He asks and goes inside. You step away from Fedyor and nod at him.

Fedyor nods at him and leaves, throwing you a mischievous wink over his shoulder. Alexander notices this and connects the dots rather quickly. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. He plants a kiss on your forehead, then rests his chin on your shoulder.

"So I guess he knows?"

His hot whisper against your ear makes you shiver. You burrow your face into his chest, nuzzling his neck as you wrap your arms around him in an equally tight embrace. Maybe Fedyor is right? Maybe when you know… you just know?

"Yeah... At this rate soon the entire Little Palace will know."

"Do you mind?" He asks uncertainly, expecting his words to hang in the air and for it to take you a while to respond with another excuse.

But you decide to bet on the truth. Show him all your cards and the same vulnerability he has for you. It was going to be everything or nothing and you knew you couldn't put it off for long. Not if you didn't want to lose him.

"Partly. I... I am afraid that once it will stop being a secret affair you will... loose your interest in me. I mean... look at me. I am not Alina." You laugh nervously and try to hide your face in his black kefta. Aleksander is not having that. He gently takes your middle and forces you to look into his dark, beautiful eyes.

"I don't want you to be Alina. I don't want you to be anything else but you, Y/N. I love you as you are. Heartrender, healer, sun summoner, inferni or whatever else, I don't care. I care about you. The way you make me feel. The way you hold me. The way you kiss me. I want you for what you really are. Not for the power you hold. Not for anything other than you."

You can barely hold back the tears in your eyes. Instead, you just nod and lean in to kiss him softly. You melt, as always, at the softness of his lips, the way he gently cups your cheeks in his hands and holds you like you're the most important thing in his life, like he can never afford to lose you. And you hope it stays that way forever.

"You damn manipulator how can I say no after that?" You gasp as the kiss ends and he rests his forehead against yours. He chuckles deeply and envelops you in the tight, warm, safe embrace of his arms.

"You can't." He mumbles against your temple and places a tender kiss there. "You are all mine. As I am yours, milaya."

And you have to say, his words have never felt more true, as he kisses you with a passion unlike any other men. You only hope that he secretly draws 'mine' on your skin for the rest of your life… not just in his shadows and the darkness of the night.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope (Part 2/5)

(part 1) (part 3)

The next time you go hunting, the Bahrs go with you.

“It’s really fine,” you protest. It’s early enough in the morning that the air carries a bite. With any luck, they’ll think the redness in your cheeks comes from the chill rather than embarrassment. “I’m not even going far in. It’s Hera’s birthday coming up and she likes squirrel…”

“You’re going to catch a squirrel without a blade?” Mr. Bahr – Ivan – asks. He tightens the strap on Mrs. Bahr’s back, making sure the quiver of arrows is snug along her spine. He pats her shoulder when he finishes and beams at you. “Are you very fast?”

Yes, you are. You’ve noticed that you’re even faster lately as your 15th birthday marches closer and closer. You purse your lips. “I set traps.”

“Don’t mind him, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr -Marie -  says. She fondly shoves Ivan off the porch of the orphanage so she can get down. “He’s always joking.”

“What sort of traps?” Ivan asks. He runs a critical eye over your coat and pack. “Will that be warm enough?”

You’re not sure if your coat is warm enough for the weather or not. Another rising power: you’re nearly impervious to the cold. You shrug. “I’ll be fine. And just simple snares and stuff.”

“We can’t wait to see,” Ivan declares. He gestures towards the road. “Lead the way.”

You bite your lip. It’s clear that they knew you were going hunting today by their garb. Both are in sturdy, worn leather with swords on their hips and bows along their backs. They probably heard from Director Sarah and came specifically to make sure you kept your promise not to hunt alone. But… “The other kids will be sorry they missed you.”

“We’ll see them when we return victorious with birthday squirrels,” Ivan says.

“What a sentence,” Marie says dryly.

You aren’t going to convince them to let you go alone. You silently lead the way towards the orchard. Or, rather, as silently as you can. Ivan talks the whole time, asking questions about the apple trees and pointing to ducks flying overhead. You answer the questions you know the answer to and hum whenever you don’t. You wish you knew more about the vegetation, but the most you can tell Ivan is whether or not something is poisonous.

“Those ones,” you say, nodding to the low, circular leaves Mr. Bahr is pointing to, “are tricky. The real ones taste kind of sweet. The other kind that looks like that makes your stomach cramp for three days straight.”

“How can you tell the difference?” Ivan asks.

You shrug. “You can’t. I just tell the younger kids to bring it to me before eating it. Usually, I trade it for something actually edible.”

Marie, trailing behind you both, makes a noise of interest. “Usually?”

You feel your ears go hot. “Sometimes I’ll try it for them just to see if they can eat it. I’ve had enough of the bad one that it doesn’t affect me so much.”

“You try it?” Marie’s voice is sharp. “Isla, there has to be a better way.”

“Not really,” you say. You scratch the back of your head and quicken your step. You’re almost to the tree line of the woods. “The kids like sweet things. If I didn’t give in occasionally, they’d try it themselves. At least this way they check in with me first.”

“I still don’t think—”

“Sounds like Marie and I’ll be bringing some sweets along with us next time,” Ivan interrupts cheerfully. He points past the last apple tree about a dozen feet ahead. “Looks like the path ends there?”

“There’s an animal track about ten feet into the woods,” you say. You’re uncomfortable with Marie’s reaction. You know it’s not smart to eat poisonous plants, but what else were you supposed to do? Your worst fear is that the kids will one day get hungry enough to eat them without caring about the pain. Your shoulders round. “We’ll need to be quiet once we’re there.”

“I’m the best at being quiet,” Ivan says. He elbows Marie. “Right, Marie?”

“Right,” Marie says. Her voice is still a little strained, but you can tell she’s trying to hide it. “That’s why I married you.”

“That’s a lie,” Ivan says. He stage-whispers to you, “She married me for my amazingly dashing good looks.”

Marie huffs a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. You’ve entered the forest.

You were worried on the way that you’d need to tell Ivan that he needs to be quiet in the forest. You needn’t have been concerned. Both adults are silent and walk with quiet steps, their dark eyes alert on their surroundings. They move through the undergrowth gracefully, their years of experience showing in every step. You try to copy Marie’s soft footfalls as best you can and are pleased when your steps get a little quieter.

The Bahrs watch as you pick places for your traps. Ivan silently points to one of your knots, eyebrow raised. Guessing what he’s asking, you undo the knot and then redo it slowly. He nods in satisfaction and then gestures for you to give him the rope. Curiously, you do. Ivan completes the same knot, fingers steady through each step. When he’s done, he presents it to you proudly as if to say, See? I did it!

It makes you do something you very rarely do in the woods. You smile.

After setting the traps you take the Bahrs to your favorite resting spot. The clearing lies just by the edge of the shallow part of the river. About a mile downstream the banks widen and the North River joins this one, making it a dangerous place of rapids. Here, however, the water moves slowly and is shallow enough to be warmed by the sun.

Finally, you speak. “Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two and then we can go check on them.”

“Is this where you found the horned rabbit?” Marie asks. You sit on a large, flat rock by the river, but she stays standing. Her eyes carefully scan the perimeter of the clearing.

“Not quite. That was near the hills.” You point. “Fifteen minutes that way.”

“That’s close,” Ivan says. He frowns, concerned. “Was that the first demon you’ve seen here?”

“No.” When the Bahrs turn to you in alarm, you shrug. “Not all the time, but demons come here. They’re usually not interested in me though.”

“But the horned rabbit was?” Marie asks.

Interested is an understatement. You’re not an idiot. You know that demons are dangerous. That’s why you usually avoid them when you spot them. Normally they’re content to let you pass by, but not the horned rabbit. It followed you nearly all the way back to the orchard before you realized you needed to do something before it attacked you. “Yeah.”

“What other types of demons do you see here?” Ivan asks. His voice is light, but he’s looking at you with a very serious expression. “Maybe howling bats?”

“I hear them sometimes,” you say, “but I don’t stick around after dark.” Ivan and Marie exchange dark looks. You fidget on the rock. “What?”

“This is protected land, Isla,” Marie says. She purses her lips. “No demons should be south of those hills.”

“What other types have you seen?” Ivan asks again. He comes to squat by you so he can look you in the eyes. “And when?”

“Just horned rabbits.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asks. She runs a hand over her hair, slicking back the fly aways. “Horned rabbits aren’t usually sighted alone.”

You hesitate. It’s true that the horned rabbits are the only demons you’ve seen, but… “There have been some signs lately, but I don’t know if they’re demons.”

Ivan’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“Wolves,” you say. Both Bahrs stiffen, hands going to their swords. You speak quickly. “But I’ve never seen them! They might be regular wolves. I found the tracks at the base of the hill, and some bones, but they were a week old probably.”

“We’ll need to ask the Lord to investigate,” Marie tells Ivan. She looks deeply unhappy. “The patrol doesn’t cover this far south.”

“An oversight,” Ivan says grimly. He reaches out absently and ruffles your hair. It startles you, but it feels nice. Ivan makes an effort to smile at you. “Good eyes, Isla. Is there anything else you’ve noticed changing in the forest lately? Even something not demon related?”

Something funny is happening in your chest. Good eyes, Isla. You wrack your brain for anything else. “I haven’t seen any other tracks or anything and there’s only been four or five horned rabbits this season.”

Marie makes a small noise in her throat. When you turn to look at her, she hides whatever expression she’d been making. “That’s a lot. Did you need to use your sharp stick on all of them?”

Ivan startles. “Sharp stick?”

You rub the back of you neck. “Just two.” You look up at the sky. You only had a sharp stick that day, but there are times when you’ve come out here with a knife. Knife days are for when you’re looking for bigger game.  “I’ve been pretty lucky hunting lately, now that I think about it. There’s been more deer and regular rabbits south of the river.”

“What do you mean ‘lately?’”

“The past month.”

Ivan and Marie exchange another long look. Before you can ask them what’s wrong, Ivan turns to you with another smile.

“Say,” he says, “what do you think about trying to bag something bigger than a squirrel today? You ever fire a bow before?”

Your eyes widen. “No.”

“You can use mine,” Marie says, pulling it from her shoulder. She holds it out to you. “We’re nearly the same height. The draw may be a bit heavy for you—or not.”

Embarrassed by the shock in her voice, you release the string. “I’m, uh, stronger than I look.”

“Good,” Ivan says. “That’ll make it easier to actually catch something today.”

The next few hours are the most fun you’ve ever had in the woods. Marie and Ivan go over every part of the bow with you, explaining the weight of it, the flexibility, the length. Marie and Ivan carry several different types of arrows with different tips, all good for different types of shooting. They let you practice on a tree across the river and each time you’re closer to hitting the center of it, they compliment how fast you’re learning, how accurate your eye, how steady and consistent your draw.

By the time they let you hunt with it, you feel like you’re walking on clouds.

The feeling lasts even after you return to the orphanage, a deer slung over Marie’s shoulders and your hands full of squirrel. There’s a pleasant ache in your back and arms from practicing with the bow. You can’t stop smiling. Everything Ivan says is out of the blue and Marie’s tired responses make it all funny.

At one point you’re walking behind them, watching their shoulders brush when the path gets a little too narrow. They’re smiling at each other and talking softly and for a wild, wonderful, awful moment, you imagine that you can keep this. You aren’t sure what this is. Their attention and their companionship, their gentle guidance and the way they speak to you like you’re an adult?

After Hera’s birthday dinner, the Bahrs stay extra late to help clean up and to spend time with the younger kids. You are still feeling a sort of bone deep happiness you’ve never felt before. Everyone is full and sleepy-eyed from the amount of food you were able to put on the table. The kids gather around their slates in the common area, learning a new type of drawing game from Ivan and Marie.

Hera comes up to where you’re leaning on the doorway. Quietly, she slips her hand into yours. You squeeze it.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” she says quietly.

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy Birthday.”

She hums and watches the fun in the living room for a long moment. She’s eleven now, three years older than you were that Winter. She’s the second oldest in the orphanage and, for the first time, you wonder if she feels the same sort of responsibility as you.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Hera says.

You make a low questioning noise in your throat.

“The Bahrs will be good to you,” Hera says. She looks up at you evenly, a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. “You deserve that, Isla.”

Every muscle in your chest locks, chasing away the pleasant languidness you’d been feeling. “That’s not—they’re not—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hera says. She stands on tiptoe so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, hugging you like she did when she was five. She whispers in your ear, “But I would be happy if they did.”

She lets go of you before you can tell her she’s being ridiculous, skipping into the room to join the drawing game.

You feel out of sorts for the rest of the night.

-----------------------.

(part 1) (part 3)

Thanks for reading! The full story is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you'd like to support me, please consider checking out my page!

This month will be seeing two main things update on Patreon first: Dandelion (x) and my Cinderella story (masterpost coming soon!) updates for both coming later this week!

[simp2537]

You don’t have request for the Darkling? Let me fix that (:

Someone wants to hurt Alek by kidnaping the reader so, Alek saves her and he’s mad AF

Touch her and die

a/n: I love writing over protective partners and stuff so I loved this. Also reader is a bit chaotic cause why not. Also made reader a Tidemaker.

Warning: kidnapping, language, blood, grisha hate, kinda bratty reader? Aleks goes psycho mode, injuries, drüskelle, mentions of Aleks and readers age gap

Aleksander Morozova x fem! Reader

It was an unspoken rule for all grisha, for all ravka, for everyone to not hurt his lover. It was no great secret that the Darkling, the Black general himself was absolutely smitten by his favorite Tidemaker. With her pretty e/c eyes and a pout on her rose colored lips she could get anything she wanted from her general.

His Tidemaker had grown up in a village boardering Fjerda, so grisha testers weren’t common to go there. In secret her older brother, also a Tidemaker taught her the ways of the grisha. Unfortunately a little ways after her nineteenth birthday drüskelle invaded her village and he brother died saving her life.

She ran through the thick forests of ravka with no idea where to go as they chased her when he appeared. His shadows cut through the drüskelle and not long after that the darkling infatuation with his Tidemaker became apparent.

Now his Tidemaker strut into the meeting he conducted, she was late. She walked right up to his side with a smile and adjusted some of the toy soldiers as he spoke. Then she walked right over to Zoya, who shock her head at her friend’s brazenness.

“You’re late, L/n.” Zoya muttered as she drew over the Ravkan maps. Y/n giggled softly as he began to help Zoya. Aleksander would glance back over at the pair every so offten. His Tidemaker clad in a black kefta with teal embroidery. He loved that she so proudly wore his color.

Her and Zoya began to giggle about something, probably a comment she’d made when one of the king advisors cleared his throat.

“Miss L/n have you something to add?” He asked cutting off the girls chatter. The room went quiet as she went stiff. Ivan and Fedyor shared a quick look as their generals eyes darkened. His tone was snobbish and rather rude.

He spoke as if he was better than she was, and it made her almost want to laugh as she turned. Slowly she made it back to the main table with the toy soldiers, this was a different plan than the one she’d just arranged. It was horrible and would lead to the deaths of many grisha.

Y/n would not sacrifice her soldiers when she could do better. Quickly she fixed up the arrangement with an empty look, Aleksander watched her in awe. As she finished she turned to the advisor with the same snobbish looked he’d given her.

“It seems you needed some assistance, don’t worry sir for I will always be there to fix the mistakes.” Y/n mocked as she bowed her head slightly. Aleksander chuckled slightly and moved a stray hair behind her ear. Such an open act of affection for his Tidemaker was nothing new, but for him to do it after she’d humiliated one of the king’s advisor was a risky move.

“Although Miss L/n was late she has fixed this plan to ensure the safety of all the grisha going into this battle. For that I am most grateful.” He amused as he stared at her. She smiled cheekily as she returned to Zoya’s side, a confident sway to her hips.

This was the last time Aleksander had seen her that day.

……………………

It was no secret that the darkling had a great many enemies, but as the fist collided with her face for the hundredth time, Y/n was growing tired. The kings advisor, whatever his name was had hired drüskelle of all people to kidnap her.

Of course her hands were bound apart and she was tied to the chair. She was surprised they hadn’t just killed her but she didn’t care. She was growing bored of all the punches. Her face was bruised, the right side more then the left, her lip busted, and she was sure at least one of her ribs were broken.

“It’s not to late to get me go you know.” She mumbled as she dropped her head back. Her hands quietly attempting to undo her cuffs.

“Drüsje your pleading for your life will not work.” The tallest announced. She sighed softly, he would come for her. If she was dead by the time he found her she knew all of Fjerda would pay.

“It would just be in your best interest.”

They all laughed and she joined in. Let them laugh, it’ll probably be the last time they do. She though softly.

“We will end you, and then we will break the darkling.” Y/n nodded softly at there words as they smashed their fist into her side. She groaned as she felt a rib snap.

“Then kill me, what is it you are afraid of?” Y/n taunted. They all froze, one of them brought there axe dangerously close to her neck.

“Will you not beg for your life?”

“Take it if it pleases you. It is not me who suffers when I’m gone.” They didn’t know what to say to that. They had heard the talks of the darkling whore. How she could boil the blood, pull the water from your body, freeze your nerves. But the women in front of them didn’t look the dangerous type.

“You aren’t the confident whore of the darkling we’ve heard tales of. You are just his pet he plays with from time to time.” Her face hardened at those words. She was not dressed in his color to be watered down to a simple whore. She smiled charming as she began to un click the cuffs.

“Most women aren’t as crude as you, they are modest.” Y/n giggled softly. She saw the shadows begin to move.

“Unfortunately for everyone I will keep doing whatever the fuck I want.”

Y/n snapped her cuffs and rolled her chair causing it to hut the ground. The shadows form into the cut and swore through the air above her. The shadows surrounded her till the familiar frame of her Sasha towered over her.

“Would mind untying these ropes?” Y/n uttered softly slumping against the grounds, her confident persona gone. The ropes were off and Aleksander pulled his Tidemaker to her feet. His hand clutched her face as he brought her in for a messy and passionate kiss.

She moaned softly into the kiss as he held her face. His hands slowly began to trail down and she pulled away with a wince.

“What is it?” Aleksander whispered as she clung to him.

“I think they broke a few ribs.” She whined as she lean into his frame for support. From the outside of the cabin she heard a few grunts, a scream or two and then silence. Aleksander placed his cloak around her shoulder in hopes of warming her.

“My healers will attend to you when we get back.” He placed a kiss to her head and began to pepper her hairline with kisses. The fear was evident in his eyes at her body. His eyes scanned her bruised face and body, her busted lip, the blood dripping down the side of her arm.

He hated that she’d gotten hurt so badly before he could save her. By the looks of her cuffs she was half way there in her own. With a slight waddle she made it to the door, with protest from her lover she pushed them opens, her jaw hit the ground.

Blood and carnage surround the cabin where she was kept. She limped her way through the bodies as Aleksander trailed behind her. Ivan, Fedyor, Zoya, and the twins were there.

“What happened out here?”

No one answered as Zoya hugged Y/n, attempting and failing to be cautious of her ribs. Aleksander pulled Y/n away after allowing Zoya to hug her, he didn’t want her to far.

“I thought they’d killed you… I lost my temper.” Aleksander admitted as he picked Y/n into his arms. Y/n stared at him for a moment.

“If this is what you do when you’re out of control, I’d hate to see what you do when you are.” Fedyor laughed softly as Ivan swatted at his husband. Y/n’s words were true. There wasn’t a thing in the world there general wouldn’t do for his precious Tidemaker.

[mothmanperson]

All-Knowing And All-Agony

your back hit the ground harshly, the air in your lungs escaping.

you gasped for air, probably looking like a fish out of water, and someone above you yelled your name.

groaning, you moved your hand onto your chest, in a comforting manner, soothing your aching rib cage.

there was a bright light, were you at the infirmary? were they operating on you again?

through the constant beep that rang painfully through your jumbled brain your barely heard a door open and close, several voices mudding together into a panicked mess.

„oh my god! are you alright“

one called out, followed by a shadow in your blinding vision.

„i saw them move…. they’re not dead at least..“

spoke another more calm voice.

„… not dead yet…“

one muttered.

„Till!“

suddenly many gasped or exclaimed some sound of shock.

„…they fell from the ground floor, onto grass, no way they already died!“

the voice defended, sounding embarrassed.

the voices all sounded so familiar.

„huh..?“

your throat unconsciously made a noise and with a last heavy sigh you forcefully peeled your eyes open, a blue sky greeting you.

„They opened their eyes!“

the blotch of pink yelled and move colors entered your blurry line of view.

and they all matched.

matched their description.

two black, one grey, one pink, a blonde and a brown one.

and you could cry on the spot.

what a cruel vision your keeper gave you. was this your punishment? if so, you‘d rather take electric shots any day.

one rather soft, masculine voice called out your name, once again.

„are you alright? can you hear me?“

they continued, kneeling by your head, prodding at your carotid artery then laying a cold hand to your forehead.

„mhm…“

you muttered out, your breath rattling.

„they’re alright no need to worry…“

the voice reassured and Ivan- another voice excused himself to get some help.

„hey, can you tell us your name and what day it is?“

what was with these questions?

„huh…? you know my name mizi, why would you ask me that?“

you hissed out a bit to harsh for your liking, but you were always more aggressive when you hurt somewhere, and another round of relieved sighs sounded out.

„are we back in-… uhh… an— anakt garden….?“

and everyone went quiet for just a second to long.

„what- no- huh…?“

one seemingly laughed at you.

„garden..? no- it’s still anakt college, how do you keep getting that wrong“

another laughed.

finally your vision cleared up some more and your breath almost hitched.

they all died, you saw them die, live TV, sitting right next to your keeper as he laughed and cheered.

voting voting voting.

it made you sick, you did not show it.

„you alright..? did you see a ghost or something?“

till asked judging silently. and mizi gasped, her hand and sua‘s intertwined, a gently grip.

cute. but not possible.

you felt nauseous, tilting over as you held your stomach as it contracted painfully. your breathing hitched and your other hand reached for the green grass beneath you.

your fist tightened and the grass leaf snapped pathetically.

„… you’re dead…. you died— you all died fucking- haah.. dead, died— shot—..“

uncharacteristically, your breathing didn’t level out after you tried to calm down, an unfamiliar stone dropped into your throat rough. you clawed at your throat and you didn’t even notice the others fussing over you, trying to get you to lay back down, to not choke yourself out. you dry heaved multiple times.

your nails already leaving aggressive red marks as multiple hands tried to pry them off.

more people seemed to run in, not that you’d notice, halfway down the spiral of eternal darkness while heaving with the pressure of seeing your friends be shot squeezing and ripping your lungs.

and finally they ripped your hand from your throat, restraining your arms, your eyes unfocused looking at the sky.

delirious, your lips formed a trained smile, and you started shakily singing a trained song, breathless and barely above a whisper.

„what a nice dream, thank you— keep-keeper for letting… me— see them, one last time…“

you whispered, chuckling or rather hackling, before coughing.

<<previous next>>

also on ao3

[ayakashiz]

Reposting this from my twitter thread because it hasn't left my head (and adding a tiny bit more).

Seen so many questionable takes lately about the ivantill kiss, and I know everyone is allowed to have different opinions and interpretations but.

No, Ivan didn’t just pretend to kiss Till for the show. And no, he wasn't trying to make Till hate him either or trying to trigger him over his implied SA to snap him into action.

I think the whole point of the scene (confirmed by the creators) is Ivan finally breaking his mask of perfection and control and giving in to his messy, all consuming feelings, being selfish for once.

Yes, by the end before the strangling starts, he appears more clear headed and now focused on the objective of manipulating the score. But he doesn't really look at it until AFTER he starts strangling Till.

The kiss itself wasn't part of the strategy, or at least not entirely something calculated. Ivan could have skipped the kiss and strangled Till right away and gotten the same result.

The fact that he kissed him AGAIN after he started strangling him, more softly and 'personal', almost like a goodbye or an apology (whether for his selfishness or for their past), tells me he wanted it.

I think a last selfish act doesn't diminish the love he had for Till, it just shows the tragedy of ALNST. Ivan is only human after all. And no matter what kind of mask he built for himself and what illusion of control he had over his life, when faced with the real, imminent possibility of losing Till, he crumbled and did something unexpected.

I have more to say about the Ivan and Sua parallels and how he finally understands her in the Confession comic etc etc but I think I've yapped enough.

I just don't like it when people try to mold the narrative because they're uncomfortable with an unconsensual kiss. It's meant to be painful and heartwrenching, a reflection on Ivan's one sided-feelings and his desperation at the moment —to be seen for the first (and last) time, to not be left behind, to convey his emotions in the only way he could when being seconds away from death.

After all the team confirmed that Ivan is clumsy with emotions and only knows to convey them in 'childish' ways (the nuzzling against his face, the picking fights with Till and teasing him).

I think some people like to think of the kiss as something purely calculated and selfless because it makes it more 'palatable', but in my opinion this take washes out Ivan's character and the flaws that make him just as human, vulnerable and complex as the rest of the cast. He was willing to throw away his life and his perfect image because he wanted something that badly.

[sequoiaisstrange]

giggling thinking about the ice skater!au where reader was patrick's partner first but after a nasty fight or maybe bc the coach simply wanted to change things up, reader's new partner is switched art (inspired by this tiktok https://www.tiktok.com/@bella_and_the_beast_/video/7397300646376000799 )

Art steals you from Patrick

Pt.2

You don’t know how excited I am about this!!!! Even though my two ice skater au's take place in different universes l'm going to do this in its own a maybe even make it a thing.

Also, Bella and Ivan gave me the idea for the ice skater in the first place! Art au and I'm happy I'm not the only one who sees it.

Being on the ice used to be your favorite thing in the world, and it couldn't get any better because you were on the ice with your favorite person, but that's different now.

You started skating with a partner, Patrick, when you were a teenager. Patrick was the boy that every girl had a crush on, and for many of those girls, he made their dreams come true until he met you.

Patrick had a crush on you but would never tell anyone because skating was more important than risking his professional relationship with you. However, he would tell his best friend, Art. Art and Patrick have been competing against each other their whole skating careers but were as close as two friends could be. Unfortunately, Art could never beat Patrick no matter how hard he tried, so when Patrick started competing with a partner, it was a relief for him.

The two boys stopped spending as much time as they used to because Patrick was practicing with you at the same time as art, and they both noticed that. So sometimes, if one was free while the other was practicing, they would go and watch one another. But what Art didn't expect was Patrick's new skating partner to be the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

The first time Art met you, he was almost speechless, and when he could speak, he stumbled over his words. Eventually, he was able to introduce himself, but he looked like an idiot the whole time.

You couldn't lie—you thought Art was extremely cute, but you liked Patrick, so you would never go out with Art unless Patrick was out of the picture.

After you met Art, he started showing up to your and Patrick's practice more often, so he was there more often than not. You thought it was because he was Patrick's best friend and loved the sport, and yes, that was true, but there was also more than that.

Art lover watching you skate and how much you loved it.

One day, Patrick didn't show up to practice but didn't tell you or Art that he wasn't coming until you called him. He said he couldn't make it, so Art saw the opportunity and ran with it.

Art had watched you, and Patrick skate so much that he knew your routine by heart. So he offered to step in Patrick's place so you could at least get some practice time in, and because you saw no harm in it, you agreed.

Once you two got on the ice, it felt like you two should have been skating partners instead of Patrick and you. It just felt so right yet so wrong because Art wasn't Patrick. Art was the farthest thing from Patrick as you could get.

Art looked and touched you differently than Patrick did; it felt real. This feeling lasted till you two were done practicing. After packets was over all you could think about was the way after was the way Art looked at you and the way his hands felt on your body. You never felt these things before in your many years of having Patrick as your partner.

After getting off the ice, you started to feel awkward because you knew the grass was greener on the other side, but you didn't even want to truly admit it to yourself.

After that day, you didn't see art for a while because you were low-key hiding from you.

Eventually, you and Patrick got back on the ice together again, and it felt off as much as you tried to ignore it.

It was even to the point where Patrick felt something off as well. You would brush off every time he tried to dig deeper, but you were good at lying to him, so eventually, he stopped.

After you thought you were getting back into a groove with Patrick, Art showed up at one of your practices.

Usually, when Art comes and watches, you typically greet him with a big wave or even a hug, but this time, you stare like a deer in headlights.

You tried your hardest to act like art wasn't there, but it wasn't happening. You kept slipping and messing up and letting your nerves get to you.

You had no idea what you were going to do, but one thing you did know was that you were doomed.

I only have one more request the finish but I need to do some research so please send request my way

[stonewall-if]

Stonewall Military Academy: the most brutal, merciless, and unforgiving boarding school in the country. Most recruits either desert or die by the end of their first year. It is where the fiercest and deadliest killers are trained and molded to be the military's steel fist. And it is not for the faint of heart.

Your late mother was once the most respected Commander in the military...until she turned against her country and was killed. Her betrayal killed important figures, left thousands dead, and almost made your people lose a war against a monstrous opposition that threatens the livelihood of your people every day.

Your family has gone into hiding since then, exiled and branded as traitors. But when you're forced to defend your sibling, you're given two options: death or become Stonewall's newest recruit, which is a death sentence in and of itself.

You choose Stonewall.

Your mother's betrayal has tainted your family, has made anyone with your last name hated and has exiled them in circles your family once commanded. You will be bullied, ostracized, even almost killed by your fellow recruits who believe you lower than dirt.

But that won't stop you. You won't be part of the 99% of recruits who die or desert. You will get out of here. You will learn about your mother. And you will live to see graduation.

Will you?

Stonewall is an 18+ dark interactive fiction with minimal fantasy elements that follows MC to a ruthless military academy. Things such as explicit violence, death, bullying, and dark themes are prevalent.

Choose your gender identity and shape your recruit's personality.

Were you a bloodthirsty fighter--everything your parents wanted you be--or what people can consider a 'weakling'?

Fight violence with violence or confront your fellow student's violence with your words, or do nothing at all.

Rebel or become a loyal soldier. Fight for the High Commander's respect or be a thorn at their side.

Romance, befriend or become an enemy to a cast of characters.

Try to survive in the deadliest school in the country.

The High Commander: the leader of Stonewall. She is ruthless, bloodthirsty, and the source of nightmares for many. She doesn't expect you to make it here. Best to prove her wrong.

Your sibling: who is the closest person to you. Your actions saved them from a life of misery and you will continue to do everything in your power to protect them.

Roman [m] or Raven [f][RO]: your new mentor and trainer. R has long graduated as a student and is a full-fledged warrior working at Stonewall. They are cold, brutally honest, detached and unforgiving. They will push you to your limits, and they don't care how you feel about it. Really, they expected you to desert the moment you stepped foot into this place.

At least they're not unnecessarily cruel...which is the most you can hope for here.

Ivan [m] or Iris [f] [RO]: coming from the most powerful military family, I's bloodline has made them the most sought-after student in the school. Your mother also killed their father, so it is no surprise they hate your guts. They are at the top of the rankings, which means they are a bully, but a dangerous one. And they will not make your time here easy.

Marshall [m] or Maureen [f] [RO]: the bumbling, happy-go-lucky recruit that came in the same day as you. No one knows how the shy and easily scared M got into Stonewall...must be because they're from a line of powerful commanders. Still, they are nothing like their family, and you feel bad knowing the students are going to eat them alive. Stonewall will likely kill them before this year ends. Not your problem, right?

Enzo [m] or Eris [f][RO]: the child of the High Commander. No one wants to cross them, so no one talks to them. They are isolated like you but in a different way: they are fawned over while simultaneously being avoided. It seems like you may just be E's only ally in here (or not).

+more!

[shakingparadigm]

It seems like Unsha is.... fairly tame? At least compared the horrendous feats of Urak and Heperu. He almost seems more grounded compared to them? Unlike Urak and Heperu, who are obssessed with winning to the point of trying over and over again, Unsha accepts his loss gracefully and moves forward with other things.

Ivan was a gift to Unsha's wife for her birthday. He chose children based off of their potential, and when Ivan showed the most promise he gave him full investment. Instead of forcing out Ivan's talent through more heavily abusive means (nurturing, it seems to be called), he brings Ivan to success through sponsorships, methodical marketing and exposure. Unsha considers the things he learned from being with Ivan and takes interest in what Ivan's thoughts might have been before death. He says that despite everything, Ivan was worth the investment and worth the loss.

I'm not trying to say that Unsha was a "good parent", he was neglectful to Ivan's personal needs and worked him relentlessly among other things. There definitely could have been more diabolical actions that haven't been revealed yet. He undoubtedly viewed Ivan as a product that he needed to sell (a businessman in all areas), but it's just interesting to note his differences and train of thought. Much to think about.

[aakaneeee]

Round 7 was.. definetly intense and I have many thoughts about it, so I did a whole analysis.. yes it's finally here!

Time to start :3 (I will mostly try to make this coherent and chronologically correct, I might fail though! because we know how freaky i can get when it comes to Luka)

without further ado, let's get into it!

tws: drug use, violence, blood, overall quite gore-ish;

I. ROUND 7

Round 7 starts with a low intro, sung first by Till, Luka following. Till has his energy back, or atleast part of it. Luka, as always, has his perfect voice, but he seems to be a little more expressive this time, as if he's enjoying the performance, just like the lyrics suggest. Everything goes seemingly smooth, and they receive holographic instruments that almost seem to parallel eachother: Till, an electric guitar, and Luka, a violin. And yet, as the second pre-chorus emerges, Luka approaches Till, putting his hands around his neck, a cruel reminder of Ivan. He is... dizzy, to say the least, even getting a nosebleed, but he doesn't stop singing until the very end, even though images of the one he's been taunted with appear on the screen behind them. His eyes seem to light up when he sees a familiar figure in the crowd, Mizi, somehow remembering her even with her hair completely different, veiled, and between millions of aliens. He reaches out, and Luka is obviously at least annoyed at this, either mad that his trick didn't work, or that Till destroyed a perfect performance. Even so, it's too late for Till: Right before getting a hold of Mizi's hand, he is shot in the neck, falling down. Mizi is.. devastated. A flashback of them as kids plays, with a xylophone instrumental. Then, the camera cuts back, from a happy, smiling Mizi, to one crying over Till's soon-to-be corpse. In his last moments, she takes his hair out of his face and cups it. He tries to caress her hand, and then his arm falls next to him as the light fades from his eyes, destined to look into the distance forever. The text "LUKA WIN" flashes on the screen, but even the double-winner is too distracted to care, as in a safe distance, yet right in front of him, is an injured Hyuna, crouched forward, without her usual, characteristic confidence. They stare blankly at eachother as the screen shows new text: SPECIAL GUESTS, paired with photos of a grieving Mizi and a shocked, in pain Hyuna. We are shown Luka advancing as the winner, the last one left, supposedly, and everything goes black.

II. LUKA

(I will have a lot to say for the both of them, unsurprisingly, but I feel like Luka is still a little bit in the lead... again. who is surprised)

From the first frames we see him in, his clothes are obviously more revealing that in previous rounds (using plural since we have seen part of his Round 4 outfit in the intro of ROMH), using not only the usual open back, but also a huge v-cut showing his chest, and his hip open, specifically where his branding is. I imagine Heperu would've chosen this to show off that it's his pet. Not only that, but his surgery scars are also shown off. I suppose it might be something to brag about here? Maintaining a pet human is probably already really expensive, so it's a differentiation of class if they also afford to have surgeries? I see it as probable. When he begins singing, we see something new. He's a lot more expressive, and it carries through the whole round. Not only that, but when his first high note reaches, he almost crouches down forward, as if he was struggling with it (even though he had more difficult notes in round 5.) Personally, for me, I don't think he was going to use his 'technique' from the start. Some may argue that it's his usual, but he got the biggest score in Alien Stage history in round 4 (I may be mistaken) against Durian, and Durian had no dead loved one that Luka could've used against... him? (I'm still confused about Durian, Acorn and.. Tortilla.😭) So he's obviously insanely talented and only uses it when he feels a threat. Most of Luka's actions in Round 7 felt risky, unplanned, and decided on the moment, which really is unlike him. This feels, like one of my previous posts say, like he was drugged, just like Till. In his daze, maybe he considered that Till would stop singing, or maybe, not even sing at all, and that he'll have an easy opponent. But no, Till proved strong, and then, it came to the next possible way he could 100% win: disorienting him. A thing others have pointed out.. Luka's fingers are probably very cold, and it mightve reminded Till that Ivan is a corpse now. One of the most cruel frames of an already very cruel series was, atleast for me, shown in this video: Luka holding in his laugh after his 'plan' (since, as i already said, i dont think it was actually planned) works. For me, it's another piece of proof that he wasn't in his right mind, the carefully built facade of his wouldn't have just broken by his own will. But, even though he could swear it worked, Till doesn't stop singing. Sure, he's dizzy, dazed, but he still is singing. Shock only comes again when Till sees Mizi in the crowd, and anger, or atleast annoyance, is easily readable on Luka's face. He even pauses singing, looking at Till reaching out for his God, always unattainable, now in the reach of his fingers, in a position I could describe as hesitant, confused. Even so, he gets a win as Till gets shot in the neck. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to revel in the victory, as he watches in shock, as 'the love of his life' appears in front of him, yet at a safe distance, injured. They stare at eachother, but it's different, it wasn't a blank gaze like in Round 5, it feels a lot more vulnerable.

I love how we've been shown past Luka's empty shell this round. Seeing him actually expressing himself, seemingly taking immense pleasure, almost in an euphoric, naive way, in the round around him. There is no way he genuinely enjoys it, or would've enjoyed it without.. exterior measures. We've seen him reacting to cameras around him in Sweet Dream. We can only imagine that was his truly 'sober' state. As I said, it's really amazing how we can see a more candid version of him.

III. TILL

From the start, it seems like Till has regained his spirit back. He's definetly more energetic than in Round 6, his hair is slightly messy again. His outfit, just like Luka's, is more revealing, but his branding has always been visible, unlike his opponent's. He is doing surprisingly well, not going down without a fight, maybe not going down at all! (I love being cruel) He's singing his heart out, every lyric he says showing desperation. And even though he was going so well, everything has an end. Because his declining mental state goes even more downhill as Luka acts like the freshly deceased Ivan, who left him with so many questions and dillemas. It feels like everything is crowding up on him, the huge stage feeling like a small box. His nose starts bleeding, and just as he was about to faint... He sees the love of his life, Mizi, in the crowd. She's reaching out to him. She's there to save him. He reaches towards her in happiness... Except he gets shot right before it. Mizi is finally reaching to him, right how he imagined when he felt like dying, after singing in that damned club. But just as you can't touch your own imagination, you can't touch a God.

Mizi is, and always will be unattainable. The moment he tried to touch her, the Universe is against him, once again. When he wanted to approach her, a powerful light engulfed him. When he died, it was back to pitch dark. In the flashback, it's implied that Till tried to escape, or atleast went against the rules, togheter with Mizi. They seem to be very close, as Mizi trusts him enough to hide, and bury her head into him. It feels affectionate, familiar, something Till holds onto, because he probably considers it one of his best memories. But nothing lasts. From a smiling, happy Mizi, it pans to the new her, now crying over Till, who was taking his last breaths. She gently brushes his hair out of his face, her hand holding it. In his last moments, atleast, he got what he wanted: Mizi's gaze on him, only on him, and just as always, he can't say anything to her. He just lightly chuckles, as his eyes lose light, and his arm falls next to him.

IV. IVAN

His intention was to make Till hate him. That's why he kissed him. He wanted to be forgotten. He already thought Till didn't care that much about him, so surely his actions would make him hate him? Wrong. Ivan was never Till's ray of hope. He was aware of it: Till only had eyes for Mizi. And yet, his death wasn't forgettable, like he thought. He used to mock Sua for her plan, saying that she'll only become trauma, and ironically, he did the exact same thing. Till sees Mizi as pure light, a goddess. Yet, he remembers Ivan in a shaky manner, a dark red veil over the flashback of the kiss. Mizi was his hope, and Ivan was his misery. Unfortunately, Ivan didn't realize this, considering himself to not be grief, but rather, nothing for Till. Oh, how wrong he was.

V. HYUNA

I really like the idea that the Patreon gave us. Its good to be confirmed that Hyuna, just like the others, is truly human, and by that I mean, flawed. Maybe I am interpreting it wrong, but from what my brain cooked up, she was.. somewhat willing to sacrifice a life (either Till or Luka) for the sake of humanity. (again, I might be wrong) We see another side to her in Round 7. She grabs Mizi and looks at her in a pleading way. She knows she's asking of her to see another of her friends die. Even so, she thinks it's better. I'm really curious about what she was doing on stage. Did she go after Mizi, because she saw she might've gotten caught again? Maybe.. she thought that Mizi was actually going to get Till, and she wanted to save Luka, too? You can never know.

VI. MIZI

First of all, she is still naive, which is so on brand for her. She went into a rescue mission, alone, with no weapons except for a smoke grenade. She still doesn't know what she has to do, and it's obvious. It seems like she took another route from Hyuna, who came up on the stage, while Mizi mixed with the crowd. Even so, I'm grateful that in his last moments, Mizi let Till rest. It was such an honest scene and I adored it. What I didn't adore was the parallels between her leaning over Tills body in Round 7, and her leaning over Sua's body in Round 1.

VII. PARALLELS

1. Till reaching towards Mizi, both in his hallucinations, and right before his death, where she still remains untouchable.

2. "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE)

3. Mizi leaning over Sua's body (Round 1) and Mizi leaning over Till's body (Round 7)

4. "In a blink gone!", sang by Till, in this, the visuals parallel his Birthday reveal art.

5. Luka raising his hands to his face, parallels Ivan tracing his hands up his microphone (they even have the same timing from what I've seen).

6. Mizi looking at Till from her capsule in Round 2, with Mizi looking at Till through the screen during Round 7.

7. Mizi throwing the grenade and Till breaking Freddie in Round 2.

8. Luka's hands on Till's neck are a 'gentler' version of Ivan choking Till, so aliens wouldn't consider it as violence.

9. Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother in Round 5 and Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother at the end of Round 7.

10. The way Luka pulls Till's lip down reminds me of that one freaky Luka image..

VIII. LYRIC ANALYSIS

Blink Gone works for all characters, in my opinion. Every one of them lost something, in just a blink.

"The clock goes tick-tock, tick-tock" I can only imagine this referring to the fact that Till's life is soon to coming to an end.

Till sings the more pessimistic lyrics, while Luka sings the ones about forgetting what's in the past and enjoying the moment. As much as he could be taunting Till, he is, in a way, also reassuring himself. To forget everything: perhaps Hyuna. Hyunwoo's death. And not only these, but the experiments, surgeries, punishments he's been through. On this specific stage, he feels like he's truly alive.

As I've mentioned before: "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE).

IX. DISPELLING SOME THEORIES.

1. Till's microphone was closed.

Personally, when I first saw this... I was a bit.. yeah... I know this sounds rude, but I was a little bit startled when I saw how many people agreed😭 The light on Till's microphone is a heartbeat tracker, proven to be right by the fact it turned green when he saw Mizi. Even if it was closed, a microphone doesn't make you sound better. He wouldn't have been heard, which he was, so obviously, it wasn't closed.

2. The competition was rigged in Luka's favor.

I dont personally agree with this, especially considering the aliens' nature. They don't care about humans. I don't imagine them wanting the same winner twice. Personally, I find it more like them to rig it in Till's favor. Imagine: he won his first two round by external factors, a rookie, yet a musical genius, defeating a past winner. Doesn't that sound more like something they could market? This is my opinion, but I can't think about them rigging it in Luka's favor. (yes I made a whole rubric just for 2 theories that kind of..somewhat. annoy me)

X. MY THEORIES (This is MOSTLY incoherent)

First of all, I am sure that something BIG will happen next. They said Round 6 is only the half of ALIEN STAGE, so, without counting Sweet Dream, there should be 6 more videos. Minus round 7, five. Hyuna vs Mizi and then whoever wins versus Luka are only two, so there's no way that's everything thats going to happen. I find it really interesting that were going to have 5 videos with only 3 (SUPPOSEDLY) alive characters. I'm not sure about the theory of "they are still alive", since Vivimeng aren't really.. known for that. I'm quite 50/50 on it. I can't believe we went from "only Sua will die" to "Everyone will die"😭 Thats what I call development. Anyways, I'm just as excited as ever for what's next!

XI. CONCLUSION + MY OPINION

Honestly, I ADORED Round 7. It was so beautiful and gorgeous and deep and I simply love it. Im going to sound like a gatekeeper, or rude, but I'm quite dissapointed in the people that genuinely are starting to harass Luka fans, to say they hated Round 7, to hate on Vivimeng for the decision they made, saying that they destroyed it and that there's no satisfactory ending to it now.. MAYBE I'm just lucky and my favourite character is Luka, so I haven't felt the grief of losing my favourite yet, but even if I did, I wouldn't start blaming the AMAZING creators that work so hard. If you're curious, yes, as a Luka fan, I've been told off, I've been told I'm a horrible person, and it's only been 2 days, which is insane to me. There is just so much more about him than "ooh he's a manipulator!" again, I'm gonna sound extremely rude... I love that there are a lot of fans that came during Round 6, but I feel like the people 'leaving' the fandom right now are those same fans. maybe that's just me and I'm just angry at what's happening right now😭

I don't want to offend anyone, these are just my opinions, please take everything I said with a grain of salt!

( @cherry-blossom-sword80 here it is!! tagging some other people I'd like to see this :3 @verdantlights @sotogalmo @rockwgooglyeyes )

[wumblr]

tumblr physics posts: bulk review

"physicists are so smart, when will they learn to make money?"

you could attribute an appreciable fraction of the global pool of money to physicists via the nuclear bomb. also, particle collider funding is on the scale of $10^10 to 10^11. and sometimes, after spending that much, they don't even get built! sometimes, when they do, you only get confirmation of one new particle that was already commonly accepted out of it! it's really an incredible ruse

"i love reading about physics as an engineer, sometimes you need to get out of spherical cow territory and get your hands dirty"

did they teach you to say that in Excusing Raytheon 101? i am not accepting criticism from engineers at this time, i've seen what you did to ivan miranda. he's still trying to make that fucking clock

"one day every year is the anniversary of the big bang"

this does have a long, robust, and not inaccurate answer (reddit screenshot) but it fails to acknowledge the way time has changed over the course of the universe's development

developmental phases include a singularity, phase transition to inflation, grand unification, deunification to electroweak epoch, baryogenesis, symmetry-breaking to the fundamental forces and particle parameters we observe today, proton and neutron formation, baryon and antibaryon annihilation, electron and positron annihilation -- and now we're almost out of the first second. atom formation during recombination, on the other hand, lasted almost 400,000 years

so, if you want to celebrate the anniversary of the big bang, it's somewhat relevant that most of its features were over and done with in an infinitesimal fraction of a second well below the human perceptual limit, and the rest of them took so long it's difficult to imagine. pinning any of these events down to "a day" kind of doesn't make sense for several reasons, not least of which that the earliest epochs did not contain any features (such as atoms) that would allow you to measure time

it's perhaps more accurate to describe the big bang as the transition from a timeless state to the timed state we observe today. "how long" the universe remained in its earliest states prior to those allowing for the passage of time is an absurd question with no answer, which is related to why its earliest state is a singularity. that doesn't mean nothing occurred prior to it, it means we don't have workable parts allowing us to theorize about how it behaved, in a timeless state, prior to the moments when things like quarks arose and fundamental forces decoupled

this doesn't necessarily mean it "spent no time" in these states (it's closer to meaning it spent an infinite time in those states, but we don't and can't know that, in like, the most literal possible sense), it means there was nothing in the universe capable of defining how much time had passed. you can't define timelike features from a frame of reference exterior to the universe (unless you're using a nonstandard model, of which there are several, like eternal inflation, big bounce, or scale invariant cyclic cosmology)

[whizzinpast]

Alien Swap (ALNST Role Swap AU)

Sua (swapped with Mizi)

Nigeh has a very specific taste in pet-humans and is known to raise them with proper manners and dress them in most exquisite outfits. Tired of the doting, Sua decided to break out and participate in a singing competition. Nigeh was happy to provide her with all the resources she needed to sing on Alien Stage and loves to brag about their ‘daughter’s’ accomplishments.

Sua meets Mizi in the same way as canon. Unlike canon though, Sua is more open with the children in Anakt Garden. Many admired her and saw her as an older sister, but she paid particular attention to very few. She was very picky about her company (which mostly consisted of Mizi tbh, and Till when he’s not being a territorial jerk)

Loves singing from the bottom of her heart and has a magnetic stage presence.

At first, her dream was to sing in Alien Stage under the stars because it was a great honor (even if she knew what death was really like). Then it was to sing with Mizi under the stars.

She firmly believed that Mizi would win— she never expected her to lose on purpose.

After Mizi’s death, Sua became a living doll. She couldn’t bother expressing herself. It was only until Round 5, when Hyuna mimics Mizi’s singing style, that she snaps. She uses stage props to knock Hyuna over and beat her with her microphone.

She is saved from execution by Luka, and during his version of ‘All-in’ she gets a side cut.

Mizi (swapped with Sua)

Guardian Shine is a segyein too old to bother with bonds. They’ve been very emotionally distant to Mizi, who they adopted because they felt sorry for her. They had, quite literally, left her in the dark for so long Mizi’s eyesight suffered. In spite of Mizi’s constant attempts to reach out and impress her Guardian, with one of those attempts being her application for Alien Stage, she was ultimately sent off to die.

Despite her cheerfulness, Mizi’s self-confidence was very low. She believed she was worth nothing up until she met Sua, and decided to get stronger for her sake. She made her laugh and helped her with physically demanding tasks.

Although she seemed happier with Sua, Mizi easily got skittish around others. Most kids thought she was weird, albeit cute to some extent.

Mizi decided to lose to Sua on purpose. Till found out and harshly criticized her for it. He claimed she should at least give it her all, to which Mizi responded by punching someone for the first time in her life— and frantically apologized for it.

Mizi didn’t know how brutal death could be until she got shot.

Ivan (swapped with Till)

Ivan had always loved the stars. Even when he was violently abused by Guardian Unsha’s lackeys, he loved the stars.

In spite of his circumstances (dragged out of the slums by the galactic mafia, tortured and then forced to entertain terrible segyein) Ivan used his intellect and appearance to his advantage. He became self-sufficient very quickly and crafted a persona to appeal to his segyein overlord.

Due to his experiences, Ivan appeared very cold and stoic as a kid. He dismissed anybody that approached him because he didn’t how to react. It was easier to scare people away than risk backlash. But, otherwise, he could be a polite and chatty kid if you know what topics to approach him with.

One of his most prized possessions is a lighter that he stole from Unsha. He keeps flicking it when he’s nervous.

Sua was his idol, his inspiration, and his rare comfort was listening to her sing. He thought she was the human equivalent of a star. Unfortunately, he never got to properly talk to her because she always misunderstood what he said.

Both him and Mizi were too awkward to talk to each other.

At some point, Ivan tried to escape on his own, but was quickly found by Till, who bullied his way into joining him. They almost escaped until Ivan realized they wouldn’t survive out in the wilderness on their own.

Till remained in his periphery because Ivan automatically blanked out when he was mistreated. The only way for Till to get his attention was to pinch him or punch him. Ivan was too resistant to verbal provokations.

Ivan stole enough materials off of rich segyein to design and sew his own outfit for Round 2. He won because his stage presence was so intense it terrified his opponent into silence halfway through the song.

Till (swapped with Ivan)

Urak bought a problematic pet-human on discount and struck a deal with him: in return for success, the child will get whatever he wants. They started with food. Then sweets. Then heavy equipment. Then guitars. Till continued to provide Urak with his musical prowess and earned everything he could dream of.

Spoiled rotten thanks to his wild success as a musical protege, Till became a force to be reckoned with at Anakt Garden. He was openly arrogant and didn’t bother with kids or tasks that he deemed unnecessary. Though, somehow, he still managed to attract admirers who thought his confidence and talent was impressive.

Out of all the kids, Ivan had the misfortune (or fortune, in Till’s eyes) to be graced with his attention. This is because Till thought of Ivan as his rival, which is, honestly, just a synonym for him getting a massive crush on him. He is stupidly into him. He thinks his ‘raw intellect’ makes him a diamond in the rough. But because he doesn’t know how to get Ivan to look at him in any other way, he gets his attention by treating him like a punching bag. (Worse than Canon!Ivan, who verbally provokes Till into fights.)

He was intensely jealous of Sua because she got so much of Ivan’s focus. However, it didn’t stop him from respecting her. She was one of the rare people that had enough talent and skill to get him. The same could not be said for Mizi.

As a celebrity, he has asshole charisma and he knows it.

In Round 6, Till does something similar to what Sua did in Round 5: he uses the microphone as a weapon and hits Ivan in the legs until he drops to the ground. He simultaneously punched Ivan three times and kissed him until he was shot and bled out.

Hyuna (swapped with Luka)

Phan, Hyuna’s Guardian, was abusive for no specific reason. They cut off her leg when she was a kid simply because they were curious. But seeing that she wouldn’t be of use to them with one leg, they provided her with a prosthetic.

Imagine a movie star persona — big smiles, big personality, black, bedazzled suits and cool shades. That’s Hyuna, except she’s dressed to impress. Looks very cool and effortless, but shows off a more cold and ruthless side to her during matches.

Hyuna had an unhealthy fixation with Luka and considered herself his ‘protector’ or ‘knight.’ Her and Hyunwoo had a more…dicey sibling relationship. They fought a lot (more like Hyuna was picking fights under the guise of being ‘the good guy’) and eventually she would beat Hyunwoo to death so there would be no one between them. Think like…the black knight in shining armor.

Luka (swapped with Hyuna)

If there is a tale of a princess escaping her tower, it would pretty much sum up Luka’s life. As a kid, Luka was extremely shy and rarely played with other kids due to his health issues (his slightly aloof attitude didn’t help either though). This changed when Hyuna and Hyunwoo invite him to play, and he became attached to Hyuna, who always protected him from bullies (and Hyunwoo, allegedly).

Despite his know-it-all attitude, Luka was genuinely ambitious and eagerly awaited auditions for Alien Stage. He was very confident in his talent and, despite the abuse at the hands of his Guardian and his declining health, strongly believed that he would win.

It all came crashing down when Hyuna reveals her true colors. She was a warden more than a guardian— keeping Luka isolated by intimidating anyone who comes near, with Hyunwoo being a slight exception. However, she kills Hyunwoo the following day with her bare hands while Luka was experiencing cardiac arrest. (Her excuse was that Hyunwoo caused it by messing with Luka.)

Luka escapes his enclosure and survives with a group of human rebels.

As a leader of the human resistance, Luka is a tactical mastermind that moves troops around like chess pieces. However, he can only do it from the safety of his home base. The few times he goes out, he’s heavily guarded by Isaac and Dewey.

A/N: The brainrot is hard at work. This is just me laying the groundwork. May or may not doodle designs if I have the time.

[inbabylontheywept]

What Talon And What Dreadful Claw

I wrote this in response to this prompt. Ivan Alexander recorded this story, so if you like audiobooks, click here to listen. I cannot understate how talented he is.

She’d watched him walking over the horizon for almost six hours now. She loved getting guests - loved seeing the resignation of men half dead with thirst, trading certain death in the sands for possible death near her waters.

And they were hers. The promise of Ramses still stood, even if it had been a millennium since the concord. By rite of blood and writ of paper she was the queen of the deeper duat. And it was a queen’s privilege to choose her guests. And, occasionally, kill them with her claws.

She could have flown over, but she had time. More time than anyone. More than enough time to wait.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒

Her guest was not half dead. He was, to be technical, less than a quarter dead, but that was only if you measured things in years.

He was young. His face certainly seemed less lined than her own. There wasn’t much else she could judge age from - the lines of her form folded into wings and furs and claws at the same point that his folded into silks and beads.

He’d prepared for the meeting by bringing a wealth of spices. It was a trick common to royal travelers: If sweat couldn’t be prevented, it could at least be masked. She could still pick traces of it up under the sandalwood and myrrh, but it was pleasant. Salty and metallic and sharp, underneath all the soft wisps of smoke.

He’d brought her gifts. When she told him that the gifts were not acceptable as passage, he said that wasn’t how gifts worked. Gifts weren’t given in exchanges - they were given for the joy of giving. And it brought him joy to share with her.

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply asked if he intended to cross through her duat.

“Maybe,” he replied. “What’s your price?”

“A riddle,” she’d said. “If you get it right, you can pass. But if you get it wrong, I will devour even your bones.”

He grinned and it wasn’t false bravado. He’d known the cost before she said it.

“I love riddles. I accept.”

She loved this part. She loved the tension of it, that singular moment of truth where she wasn’t just a mind or a monster, but something straddling both worlds.

She spoke.

“I can survive beyond death, but can be broken without force. I can summon without breath but-”

“A promise.”

She looked at him wide-eyed. It wasn’t her best riddle, but it was one she’d made herself. It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.

She let him pass but she did - to her great shame - sulk. To his credit, he only lingered an hour or so in the shade of the oasis. There was a longing to him that she couldn’t describe. It unsettled her, but it went away when he took his camels and continued past, traveling on into the deep duat.

She forgot about his gifts until long after he’d passed the horizon. She’d expected human trinkets - gold and gems. Useless baubles. The pelts that had been carefully rolled up and placed inside the chest were strangely thoughtful.

She carried them back to her cave, and laid them flat across the floor. That night she slept better than she had in many, many years. In the morning, she woke up and smelled myrrh, and was almost happy to imagine the prince coming back. If she was disappointed to realize that the smell was coming from the scents soaked into the furs, that was a secret she could keep even from herself.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓐭

It was a week before he came back.

She recognized his outline on the horizon. She had a good memory, and beyond that, he’d made quite an impression on his first meeting with her.

He’d begun to run low on his spices, and his clothes were looking far more rumpled than they had at the start. That travel was beginning to wear him down should’ve meant nothing to her. Now, she felt odd. Would she still feel victorious if he failed her riddle? Or would it haunt her, knowing she could only catch him at his worst?

(Did she want to catch him?)

She waited for him to make it to her oasis again. It seemed to be part of the ritual, to sit and watch the speck on the horizon grow to the size of a man. They didn’t exchange pleasantries when he arrived. Instead he gave a small nod to acknowledge her before climbing down from atop his camel. She hadn’t demanded it prior because she knew all too well how easy it was to catch a camel, but there was still something respectful in the gesture. Here was a prince willing to die with dignity. Here was a man who lived and died by rules.

Could she be blamed for admiring that?

Only when he was fully settled in to listen did she begin her riddle.

“Toothless maw that eats all these:

Raw flesh, dung, fresh air, and trees.

At night I’m bright, in day I’m black,

I die, I’m gone, but always back.”

She was on the third line when she saw his face light up. He waited to answer this time, more focused on being polite than showing off how clever he was. She liked that. She knew he was clever, but now she knew he could be patient too.

“A campfire.”

It was one of her favorite riddles, and the joy she got was twofold. She was happy for the prince, happy that he would survive another day, and happy for herself too. It was infinitely preferable to lose with skill than to win through circumstance. She would feel robbed, if she had to eat the prince on a bad day. If he lost, he needed to lose at his best. He needed to lose in a way that mattered.

He went through the oasis again, but lingered far longer. They spoke in moments about each other’s lives - her memories of the time before even Ramses, and his experience as the seventh in line to the throne. He was trusted to act as an emissary specifically because he was so far from inheriting the throne.

“Not that I’d want it anyway,” he said. “A camel is a better throne than any silly golden chair. The seat in the palace only lets me see the bald spot on the high priest’s head. The saddle on this camel lets me see all the beauty in the world.”

His head wasn’t turned towards her when he said that, but she could see his eyes glance over her.

It was easy to pretend she didn’t notice, and he did nothing to press it further. She showed him the best trees for picking dates, the best ponds for catching fish, and the first cave she’d set her lair up in - back before even Ramses. Back when she was much, much smaller.

She slept in the next morning. The sunlight made a soft beam through the cave, over the pelts, before landing across her face. Any other day it would’ve been a wonderful way to wake up, but the realization that she’d missed her chance to say goodbye made her scramble. She made a short flight over the waters to see if he was gone, and got her answer before even landing - there was no camel tied to the palms.

Still, he’d left her a gift. The boar roasting over glowing coals had clearly been caught the night before, and the fact that it was unspiced meant it was for her.

It was also another oddly thoughtful gesture. How many humans would realize that unseasoned meat was a sphinx’s preference? How many would research that far?

She landed near the meal and approached. Down on the ground, there was so much more detail to see. The tracks of the camel, the care taken to not leave a mess. The simple note left besides the firepit.

She reached out and read.

I’m sure you don’t depend on travelers for your meals

But I do feel bad, having deprived you twice.

Enjoy the boar. I will be back in two weeks.

She hadn’t taken a bite yet, but she could pretend the warmth in her stomach was the meal. Two bites was all it took to make the illusion complete.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒

She waited until the fifteenth day before flying.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected - a sandstorm, perhaps, or a heatstruck camel. Instead, it was only a few minutes flight before the smell of blood caught in the back of her throat.

It was hard to describe what happened after that. Sometimes, she was more mind than monster. Sometimes, she was more monster than mind. That day was a monster day.

He’d lost a lot of blood by the time she found him. A frankly terrifying amount of blood. She could carry him back to the oasis, but that’d only delay the inevitable.

But sphinx knew many things that humans did not.

She carried him, and he was light in her claws. Light in the way that humans were, but some small, scared part of her brain was worried that the blood loss made him lighter still. Like a date left in the sun.

She followed the trail through the desert until she found the thieves that did this. They had his gifts and his spices. They’d have taken the clothes off his corpse if they’d been able to catch his camel.

They’d have taken his life. The one human life she’d valued in one-thousand years, and they’d have taken his life.

It was hard to hate humans. They were so small and short lived that taking them personally felt childish. But this day, she hated, and it made killing easy. Five of the six bandits were extraneous. The last, thankfully, had blood that smelled like the prince.

(He was much less thankful about this than she was).

She took them both back, the prince held gently in her front talons, the bandit half crushed in the back. The transfer spell took exactly as much as it needed. It would’ve been crueler to let the bandit suffer the same fate he’d intended to inflict on the prince - to struggle on with too little blood, until his body failed. It was tempting, but she felt a sick gratitude that he had what she’d needed when she needed it, so she made the end quick. Or, quick enough.

Thirty seconds isn’t long, but it’s an eternity when falling.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒

The prince recovered enough to speak after three days. He asked her to tell him riddles, and if she was as jealous of her domain as she pretended, she’d have said no. But good riddles were the tool she used to rid herself of unwanted guests, and this guest was… wanted.

So she read riddles to him for days at a time. Read all the ones she’d hoarded from scholars. Read ones she wrote herself, just for fun. She started with her best riddles because she loved his praise, but moved on to her earlier ones because what they lacked in cleverness, they made up for by being earnest.

He loved those riddles the most.

One week stretched into two. He spent his days swimming after fish, chasing after boars with spears made of stone (she hadn’t seen that in a very long time) and scurrying up the trees to pick dates. And his nights, he spent imagining riddles around a campfire.

She knew it wasn’t going to be permanent, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be beautiful. She’d outlived so many things in this world - seen rivers change courses and lakes run dry. If impermanence was a poison, then it was a poison she couldn’t avoid. There was no wall she could build to keep death at bay. She could only share her home with it and hope that one, one wonderful, far away day, that even death would die.

But that day would not be soon.

The king’s men found the oasis after a month of searching. There were no riddles this time. The prince left willingly, and the men with bronze blades stayed respectfully far from her part of the duat. It went as good as it could have gone, all things considered. If some part of her felt empty afterwards, well, maybe she just needed to eat.

Regular gifts did find her way to the duat, as thanks after that. Herds of goats were released near her borders, to hunt at her own leisure. Soft pelts from the northern lands were delivered in chests, and she luxuriated in their fluff.

Most importantly, a regular shipment of blank vellum began to make its way to the duat. She was told was explicitly that it was for her to write more riddles. And also, if she had a spare moment, she could send letters back with the vendor. The prince always made sure to send at least one out to her, and she always made sure to send one back.

Always.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁗 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑𓁗

It had been decades.

She just-

She couldn’t see how humans were like this. She’d written with him six months ago! He’d been sharp as ever. Sharper, even. Time had winnowed him into a razor’s edge, and she'd been so amazed to see him change. And then he’d gotten busy, and they’d stopped writing letters for just a month, and then it was two months, and then three and now-

Now he wasn’t well.

The last letter she’d received hadn’t even been from him. It had been from his eldest brother, the reigning pharaoh. And it had broken her heart.

He was forgetting… everything. His mind was breaking. Decades of brilliance, and now he was falling apart at the seams. Some days, he didn’t even know who he was. But on the days that he did, the only thing he could talk about was going to the oasis one last time.

And his brother who had kept him close, who had been so protective of him after his near death with the bandits, had finally agreed.

He was going to be arriving any day now. The note had a sort of helpless plea attached - that he didn’t know what to do at this point, but that whatever it cost her to keep him comfortable, he would repay tenfold.

She sent a letter back saying it was a gift. She was the queen of the duat, and it pleased her to give this to her neighboring kingdom. Nevermind that her kingdom had no subjects, nevermind that she had no armies at her disposal. What she had, she could give, and this was… easy.

It made her happy to write the letter. It remind her of the first words the prince had spoken to her, all those years ago.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁗

He arrived a few days later, escorted by fifty soldiers. She was grateful that he was in one of his lucid moments. She couldn’t imagine how it would be, to be seen and not known.

She didn’t wait for them to make it all the way to her oasis. She flew over to meet them, and then carried him back. The traditional wait was from when she thought she had time. Before she'd realized that there were ways for even an immortal to find themselves in a hurry.

He spent his first day back chasing fish, the same way he did before. The boars he left be - seventy, he insisted, was far too old to be messing with boars. And when the evening came, they gathered by a campfire to share riddles.

They went back and forth, laughing at each other's crafts. It was only after an hour of reminiscing that she actually asked him her favorite riddle, the riddle that she had permanently written in as His riddle. The one with toothless maws and meat and light in the dark, and he stared at her - not blankly, but worse, confused, because he recognized the riddle, but could no longer answer it.

She could see the distress growing in him, and it broke her heart. He hemmed and hawed, but right when he looked on the brink of giving up, he looked at the fire and started in relief.

“A campfire!” he said, and they laughed, and if he could pretend his tears were mirth and not mourning she could pretend that hers were the same.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒

He was not well the next day.

He knew who he was, thankfully, but he didn’t remember getting there. He stumbled around almost dazed until he saw her. Then he sighed in relief.

“This is my favorite dream,” he confided in her. “I’d like to get back here for real one day - but this dream is lovely. Can you read me some more riddles? Just like last time. I've never forgotten.”

She didn’t even touch her later works. She went to her earliest ones, the easy ones, and the way he pondered minutes at a time made her stomach clench.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒

She did not sleep that night.

She had spent literally her entire life trying to make harder and harder riddles, and now-

They needed to be easy. They needed to be simple. They needed to rhyme, and feel like riddles, but they needed to be solvable by someone that -

She had to stop writing for a few moments to compose herself. She couldn’t afford to cry on the vellum. A new shipment wouldn’t arrive in time.

She was immortal, but she was still running out of time.

𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒

He woke up the next morning completely confused. She’d prepared her first riddle as

“Who sits in the sand

Beside my lair

Who swims through fish

With thin white hair

Who braved the desert and survived

Then returned home alive and thrived?”

But after several seconds of silence she couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s you,” she said.

“Oh!” he replied, surprised.

“What do you know about this place?”, she asked, after several more long seconds of quiet.

“…Not a lot,” he admitted. “But I know I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said.

That was the only riddle she had for the day. He fell asleep in the midmorning, and she took the time to go catch a goat for them. He was still asleep when she returned and remained that way the rest of the day. She stayed awake long after sunset, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest and praying it would never stop. She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep - she just knew that when she woke up, her prayer had gone unanswered.

𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁗

The vellum vendor arrived at the start of the deep duat only to find the oasis empty. He looked for hours, but there was only a single vellum left behind in the cave. He grabbed it and read the half finished riddle.

​ What hungers and is never full?

What is complete but never whole?

What pierces armor, shields, and hearts?

What ends before it even starts?

What force can make a monster thrall

What talon and what dreadful claw

Can heal the slice it makes each day?

What pain can make the godless pray?

It was all he could take back to the pharaoh.

He hoped it was enough.

[call-sign-shark]

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!You || The Darkling x HeartrenderOC!Reader

Summary: A public confrontation during dinner escalates and leads General Kirigan to show his quiet but firm protection of you to everyone. Especially Zoya.

Words: 4K

TW: graphic mention of injury, humiliation, reference to past prostitution, slight alteration of canon events: Zoya was never Kirigan's fav.

Part IV - The Fear Within

Previous || Masterlist || Next

As you walked out of the training room alongside General Kirigan, his shadow-like presence enveloping you entirely, murmurs erupted behind you. They were only whispers and yet sounded as loud as the cacophony of screams and cries that followed the frightening silence after a bomb exploded.

Did you see what she did to Zoya? The way she almost tore her apart?

Broken ribs, one lung reduced to mush, heart badly injured, the healer who took care of the arrogant Squaller couldn’t believe such damages were the result of a Grisha. While Heartrenders had always been the most feared and valuable soldiers of the Second Army, none of them could induce that much damage with one sole flick of the wrist. Let alone a beginner who had only used her abilities a few times. The origins of your power remained a mystery for everyone including Zoya, yet she was at least sure of one thing: hadn't General Kirigan intervened, she would have died today in a painful, gruesome way.

Following the incident, you had quietly followed the Black General through the corridors until he stopped and turned to face you. His dark eyes, darkest as the blackest moonless night, had bore into you, as though searching for something.

“You need to control it,” He had said, his tone still firm but the pace of his voice slower, for he was carefully choosing his next words, “Your power is immense. I can feel it pulsing around you like a chained beast… But it’s dangerous.” He let out a long exhale through his nostrils, “You can’t let anger guide you.”

The weight of guilt you felt in your weaving chest became heavier, settling over you like an anvil, “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” Aleksander interrupted, his gaze softening ever so slightly, “But intention doesn’t matter when lives are at stake.” 

You simply nodded, unable to find the words to respond, and watched him disappear upstairs with his black kefta dancing behind him like shadows lingering in his wake.

Weeks passed and life at the Little Palace soon fell into a rhythm for you — a rhythm laced with unrelenting tension and exhaustion. Days were a grueling cycle of harsh training sessions where you pushed your limits under the watchful eyes of Ivan and the disdainful stares of your peers. As for your nights, they weren’t any better. Here in this foreign place, terrifying memories of your past impatiently waited for you to sleep in order to plague your dreams, turning them into nerve-wracking nightmares. And when the nightmares wouldn’t come, it was the shadows that crept into your room at night, seeming to carry Aleksander’s presence with them and to watch you as you rolled over in your bedsheets.

Despite everything, there still were moments where you could breathe again and they were when Fedyor spent time with you. Admittedly, you had found an unlikely friend in him considering how everyone carefully avoided you, but his cheerful disposition, unwavering kindness, and humor gave you a sense of normalcy in a world that constantly reminded you that you didn’t belong here. Nevertheless, Fedyor wasn’t always there, his frequent missions for Kirigan leaving you alone to fend off the cold hostility and wariness of the other Grisha. You couldn’t blame them though, not after almost killing a well-known figure of the Little Palace in front of their eyes.

Kirigan too was rarely present during the day, the last time you truly spoke being your last discussion about the necessity of learning to control your powers. For weeks, your encounters with him were fleeting — just brief moments stolen between his duties as General and your relentless training. Yet, even in his absence Aleksander was always there, making you silently understand that he was watching over you. Not in a way that felt overbearing but in a manner that made you hyper-aware of his presence nearby. 

Sometimes it was a brush of his warm hand against your freezing one as he handed you a training sword. Some others, a shared glance across the room that made your heart miss a beat. Or the way he stood a tiny bit too close when he spoke to you, his voice a velvet promise that made your skin prickle. Each time, his intensity steadied you and unnerved you all the same for you hated how easily he seemed to consume your thoughts for some unknown reasons.

Once, during a passing encounter in the hallways, Kirigan stopped beside you, his void-like and unfathomable gaze sweeping over you as if carving every detail of your face in his memory.

“You’re improving,” He said with an even tone, though his somber pupils gleamed when the Palace’s light hit them at the right angle.

You couldn’t help the shiver that ran through your spine, nor control how your pulse quickened a little under his scrutiny, “Thank you, General.” You replied, your tone neutral despite the inner turmoil he triggered in you. His lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile that disappeared as fast as it had come before he walked away, leaving your heart racing even more.  Why the fuck am I feeling like this whenever he’s around? you thought. 

Since your childhood, you have always considered yourself an anomaly. Like an island detached from the ocean of emotions that seemed to flood the others so effortlessly. You were cold, unfeeling, almost clinical, which had often left you wondering if something fundamental within you was broken. Like, an essential piece of humanity missing. Joy, sadness, empathy — they had always felt more muted than they should have been, like distant echoes you could experiment but never fully grasp.

But not with him.

The weight of him was thrilling each time he entered the room and you hated it. Hated the loss of control, the way your supposedly buried emotions now surged to the surface like a storm breaking through the calm waters. To be honest, you didn’t know what unnerved you more: the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the room or the way you found yourself wanting to be looked at like that by him. And there was more to it, something deeper. It wasn’t just about his commanding presence nor the unbearable tension when your skin brushed his, but it was a pull. A tug at something unseen within you. As though your souls had already known each other in another life, an unspoken murmur of recognition that both terrified and soothed you. You couldn’t understand this foreign ache of familiarity in his presence. 

The ache of something that called you home.

The dining hall was alive with chatter, filled with a background noise that only served to highlight how utterly alone you were even surrounded by the crowd of Grisha who lived here. Prior to going downstairs for dinner, a gifted tailor named Genya had asked you why you weren’t wearing the red kefta given to the Heartrenders. To this, you had simply replied “Why should I bother? I’m not one of them” and proceeded to leave, closing your grip on the collar of the white and comfortable fur coat you had found in your bedroom’s closet. Quickly sneaking into the dining hall, you walked to the far end of a table and sat there.

With your gaze fixed on your plate, you were trying hard to ignore the whispers all around you. As always, the other Grisha avoided you, their fear palpable and their resentment an unpleasant feeling that washed over you. Fedyor’s absence was particularly striking tonight. How much you would have loved him to be next to you, listening to his stories and laughing at his gossip but here you were, without an ally. 

You were about to bite into your fork when the room fell silent with the kind of quiet that only preceded trouble. Wondering what was happening, you looked up and quickly understood: Zoya had stepped into the dining hall and was approaching you, a cruel smirk playing on her pretty lips.

“Still sitting alone, I see. Fitting for someone like you.”  Her voice was loud enough to draw the attention from the nearby tables. Attention… Everything you didn’t need.

You didn’t respond, keeping your pale eyes firmly on her as she slowly moved her wrist to make the content of the cup she was holding swirl. It was probably wine.

Unfazed by your silence, she leaned closer and continued to taunt you, “You know, for someone so dangerous you’re awfully quiet. And out of place. Like a wolf pretending to be tame.” 

“And you’re awfully chatty for someone who begged for her life a few weeks ago.” Your words felt like sharp shards of ice that pierced through her ego. “Have you finished yet? I’d like to eat without having to bear that stupid voice of yours.” 

But Zoya wasn’t finished. 

“Tell me first... What does it feel like to be the monster even among deadly Grisha?” 

This time, your grip tightened on your fork as Kirigan’s words circled in your mind like a broken record.  You need to control it. You need to control it.

“Struggling to reply? Here, let me help.” Joining words to deeds, the Squaller let out a bitter giggle and, with a theatrical flourish, she lifted the cup she was holding and dumped its contents  —a thick, deep crimson liquid — onto your white outfit. The splash of its cold content against your chest made you freeze instantly. It was the metallic scent that hit you first and made you understand what the liquid was even before you saw the dark crimson stains on your dress and coat: it wasn’t wine. It was pig’s blood.

A chorus of gasps echoed through the room, overhung by Zoya’s and her friends’ laughter that rang hollow in the silence.

“Red suits you far better, Sankta!” She sneered.

Rage suddenly boiled beneath your skin, making your body stiffen and your little hands tremble – not with fear, but with a fury so cold it scorched you alive. And even though the whispers and laughter around you were deafening, resounding like a thunderstorm, you could barely hear them above the buzzing in your ears. For a moment, your vision blurred as you stood up in one violent motion, your chair falling to the ground with a loud thud. Your brutal movement led Zoya to take a step back, anticipating your reaction and potentially violent way to attack her back but nothing came. 

You stood rigid in front of her with blood splattered on your diaphanous skin and white outfit, your chest heaving as your quick, shallow breaths resounded in your skull. The crimson streaks soaked the fabric and created a grim contrast with your pale, delicate figure. Of course, you’d have loved to erase the smug smirk on her lips by pouncing on her and ripping her face with your own sharp nails in an animal-like fit of rage, but your body was petrified. Your eyes burned with uncontrollable anger, unblinking, as your fists clenched at your sides, even more trembling under the weight of the humiliation.

“You—” Your throat went dry before you could say something else, your resentment so deep that it strangled you, choked every word you wanted to utter and every insult you wanted to scream.

“What’s the matter, little Saint?” Zoya tilted her head, beaming.

“Is this how we treat one of your own, now?” 

The shadows in the corners stretched toward the two figures standing, creeping slowly in black smoke curls, and the more they came close, the more it seemed to feed the storm that was building up inside you. As the atmosphere became heavier, silence fell again in the room and hushed all whispers as the Black General appeared, emerging through the thick fog of his darkness. Without wasting time nor condescending to glance at Zoya, Kirigan moved toward you with an unsettling calm, his pace conveying determination and his boots echoing softly against the luxurious stone floor of the dinning hall. The two obsidian of his eyes, sharp and as dark as midnight, locked onto you as if you were the only person in the room worthy of his attention. And despite the silence, the weight of his presence was deafening. 

When he reached you, General Kirigan stopped, standing close enough for you to feel the shadowed intensity as well as his power radiating from him. Not a single word was uttered, not a sound escaped his charming lips. Instead, his hands rose, unhurried and confident, to undo the few closed buttons of your blood-splattered fur coat. The gesture might have been simple, but it carried a startling intimacy as his fingers brushed gently against the edge of your collarbone when he lifted the coat away and let it fall at your feet. The intense feeling of humiliation still crashed against you like brutal rogue waves crashing against the shore, rendering you unable to hold his gaze. As you bowed your head, your fierce nature momentarily flickered at the sight of your ruined dress with its thin white fabric soaked through and clinging to you like a second skin. But even drowning in humiliation, the light touch on your collarbone sent a surge of electricity through your whole body.

In this moment suspended in time, Kirigan’s eyes dropped, lingering on your body for a bit too long. Surprisingly, his expression held no disgust or pity — only something unreadable, almost reverent. Something scorching, making you feel exposed both physically and emotionally to the extent that your breath hitched in your tight throat. As if he had stripped you naked with the sole power of his eyes. 

“Look at me.” The Black general said in a low voice, the very top of his index finger delicately pressing under your chin to force your gaze to meet his, dizzyingly deep and intense.

Blood rushed quicker in your veins in return, every fiber of you reacting to him in an uncontrollable instinct. It was only then that he shrugged off his own black kefta in a fluid movement, but the subtle care with which he unfolded the luxurious garment and wrapped it around your shoulders was anything but cold or impersonal.

 The fabric of the kefta was thick and warm, its weight providing a comforting and protective embrace that immediately calmed both your fury and feeling of shame down. Finally, your petrified body came back to life as you batted your doe lashes as though you had just woken up from a terrible nightmare. It had been the unmistakable scent of him — earthy cedar, spiced amber, and a fragrance darker, undefinable — that had helped you emerge from that feral state of rage. A hypnotizing, reassuring smell that enveloped you like a shield and anchored its owner’s presence in every thread. 

He patted your shoulders, then took one step back just enough to give you more space. “You’ll sit with me,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the tension like a blade, and his tone leaving no room for argument.

You almost opened your lips to speak but restrained yourself to do so for the way he uttered his order had been truly disarming. It wasn’t a question, not even a suggestion. No, it was a statement, one that accepted no debate. And even though the only thing you truly wished at this moment was to run away from this hellish place and lock yourself in your bedroom, you still followed Kirigan when his hand pressed lightly to the small of your back to guide you forward under the glance of every member of the assembly and a gutted Zoya. 

One step after the other. 

The dining hall seemed to fade as he led you across the room, his touch steadying your trembling steps and giving you the strength you lacked to ignore all the pairs of eyes that were riveted on you. Once he reached his table, Aleksander pulled out a chair, the scrape of wood against the floor creaking, and he gestured for you to sit. Hesitation crept into you but the way his dark, shining eyes softened ever so slightly — not in kindness but in reassurance —  encouraged you. Moreover, pushing him and rushing out of the room wasn’t an appropriate option anyway so what else could you do besides sinking into the seat? He took his place beside you as the officers seated at the table exchanged confused looks but knew better than say something for their deference to the General was absolute.

The dinner unfolded, and exquisite plates followed, but the humiliation you had suffered earlier lingered, giving you a bitter taste in your mouth. And there were their eyes, their fucking eyes staring at you in a way so nerve-racking that you wished you could have plucked them out of their sockets with your nails.

It was halfway through the meal that Kirigan’s gaze flicked discreetly toward you, with an expression still unfathomable. One look was all it took for him to sense the unease that seeped through every bit of you. Maybe that was why, hidden beneath the table, his hand sought yours. You froze slightly, surprised at the sensation of his fingers finding you, warm and firm, and lacing yours together without hesitation. 

“Let them stare. They’ll grow bored of it really soon.” 

The gesture was grounding, a silent lullaby for your soul, and relaxed you enough to allow you to exhale a shaky breath.

“I feel like an animal in a bloody zoo.” You whispered, the word ‘zoo’ spat with disgust as it painfully reminded you of the Menagerie. For the umpteenth time, Aleksander seemed to read through your thoughts for his gaze briefly dipped to your wrist, catching the faint outline of a tattoo partially obscured by the sleeve of his kefta you were wearing and that was too large for you. His brow furrowed slightly at this observation, curiosity gleaming in his dark eyes but you turned your arm and hid the mark right away before he could study it further.

“I know the feeling.” Kirigan replied after a few seconds, his voice briefly letting you grasp a tinge of humanity before he turned to stone again and shifted his attention from you to discuss war strategies with Ivan. 

Your shoulders relaxed a little bit and, finally, you started to eat — or rather to carefully pick a few things from your plate just so you wouldn’t have to sleep with an empty stomach. Your two hands remained intertwined during the entire meal, his thumb sometimes brushing lightly against the back of yours in a soothing caress, like an anchor amidst the storm. Admittedly, the intimacy of it sent a jolt through you in a mixture of comfort and confusion that only deepened the inevitable pull you felt toward him. The way his touch quieted the turmoil in you was both thrilling and suffocating, a contradiction that left you shivering… As you always did when he was around. 

It was wrong.

This whole situation made no sense. And still, you tightened your grip around his hand. Needy. Surely.

Tenderly.

The office was dimly lit by the dozen candles flames dancing around, feeble and slow, and casting their long shadows across the walls. 

Zoya was standing stiffly near the doorway, arms behind her back and her posture irreproachable, though her confident demeanor crumbled under Aleksander’s cold, unwavering gaze. Leaning against his desk, the shadows around him curled faintly at his shoulders as a visible manifestation of his restrained anger.

“Close the door,” He ordered without looking at her with a voice calm but edged with steel. Wasting no time, Zoya obeyed. The click of the latch sounded far louder than it should have in the silence of the office. 

Aleksander spoke first while looking directly at her, his pitch-black eyes sharp and accusing. She couldn’t help but notice that he had fetched his kefta back from you once you had reached the door of your bedroom safe and sound “Do you enjoy embarrassing me, Zoya?”

She gritted her teeth. “With all due respect, General, I’ve done no such thing. I merely—”

“You merely threw blood on a member of this court.” Cold fury crackled from his tone. He had given her no chance to justify her behavior for he had already charged her guilty,  “In front of everyone. Did you think that it was acceptable behavior for a soldier under my command?”

Zoya stiffened, “She’s dangerous. A liability. I was making a point—” Her lips tightened into a thin line.

“A point?” Aleksander’s voice had turned into a hiss now , “What point, exactly? That you are envious of someone stronger than you? That you cannot stomach the presence of someone who makes you question your own worth?”

“She doesn’t belong here!” Zoya burst out with trembling words but her tone bore clear hints of both defiance and frustration. “She almost killed me! You’ve brought in a wild animal and expect us to treat her like—”

“Quiet.” His order was like a whip, “You will not speak of her like that again. Do you understand me?”

As Zoya’s fear momentarily eclipsed her anger, she stuttered, “General, I only meant—”

“Do you know what I meant, Zoya?” Against all expectations, the tall darkness’ voice was deceptively soft and still, and yet it cut deeper than any shout, “I meant for you to serve this court with dignity. To protect your fellow Grisha, not humiliate them for sport. Tell me, did you feel powerful when you poured that blood on her? Did you feel strong?”

This time, the fierce Zoya Nazyalenski looked away, “I was protecting us,” she muttered, though her speech lacked conviction. “She’s—”

“She is under my protection,” Aleksander interrupted, “And that should be all you need to know. You will respect her because I demand it. Not because you like her. Not because you understand her. But because you respect me. She’s part of this court and you will treat her accordingly.”

Tears started to prick at Zoya’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I’ve served you faithfully for years,”  She lamented, “And you would cast a loyal follower for her?”

Aleksander leaned over his desk to come a tad bit closer to her, his gaze filled with threats that didn’t need to be spoken to be horrifying. “For someone with your talents, Zoya, you can be remarkably shortsighted. This is not about her or you. This is about the unity of Grisha, something you should value more than your petty grievances.”

For the first time in years, the Squaller flinched as though struck by lightning, her confidence shattering in millions of shards like a broken mirror under the General’s unemotional eyes. He straightened and waved off the topic, “You may go. And if I hear of any more incidents, there will be consequences far greater than this conversation.” 

At first, she remained still and hesitated, as if she desperately tried to search for some trace of leniency in his expression but she found none. Just plain disappointment and anger as cold as the deadliest blizzard. For Zoya, pride had always been her armor, but today it cracked, leaving her exposed to a truth she could no longer deny: the General’s favor was a fortress she would never breach. A fortress you had conquered in the span of a few weeks while she had worked on it for years. As the door closed behind her, the sound was not just the end of a conversation—it was the shattering of the illusion that she still stood untouchable.

And even though no one had overheard what they had said, many saw Zoya leaving the General’s office in tears. Quite a paltry price to pay for the humiliation and pain she had bestowed upon you earlier.

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you want the story to continue. It is what motivates writers to write the next chapters...

tags: @lunawants , @emtaz-art, @lightinbug, @kmc1989, @thepassionatereader @mystic-mara @m-riaa @kallista-diune

[raivenantcravings]

Round 6 Reaction/Analysis

SDFFSDHFLSDHF ROUND 6 FSDHKFDSH ROUND 6 FSDKFSDHFDS ROUND 6

I woke up to twitter analysis saying that Till never even looked at Ivan until his final moments. And I made pre round 6 fanart titled "look at me." Couldn't manifest it. He never looked at him in the end,,,

broo dont look so happy. oh my god you lovesick fool.

reaction and analysis under the cut

First detail I noticed was that are the mics clear because both Ivan and Till are being vulnerable? They have nothing to hide anymore, so they'll show the world their whole being.

Anyways, to my main point,,

My interpretation of the ending was that Ivan was really trying to "cure" Till.

Till opens up with wanting to feel pain, to feel hurt.

"Please, leave me scars"

"Please, hurt me so that not a single drop of me remains"

Which, I realize he's talking to Mizi, but it's a cry for "help" either way.

Ivan's part goes:

"Notice my pain and mend me right now"

Again, he's talking about himself, but I think it could apply to what he does to Till.

So they kiss.

And, I've seen a lot of other people already say this, but I also do feel the kiss was not only meant to be for Ivan to selfishly show his love for Till.

Like bro don't go nonconsensually kissing your crush, what are you doing!?

When the scores came out, Ivan was much lower than Till than I expected. I thought it'd be a Mizi-Sua situation where the scores were close, but Mizi barely edged it out.

But Till almost had 20 points over Ivan.

And I know it's because Till is a rising star. And his new image change would really garner the attention of everyone. But it's not like Ivan is a nobody either. I didn't expect the scores to be so different.

I do think its because Ivan kissed Till. As a final nail in the coffin that guarantees his loss.

Alien Stage is commentary on the idol industry. One of the most prevalent issues in the idol industry is the romantic lives of the idols. Idols are not supposed to be in relationships, at least not outwardly. Their whole image is for the fans. Nothing they do should ruin that public image as an idol.

Much less in a in a queer relationship.

Now I don't believe the universe of Alien Stage cares about LGBTQ+ issues because there's bigger issues surrounding their human pets. But I think that it is an issue that Vivinos is trying to address because they certainly never shy away from queer issues in their other works.

And I feel the idea that idols/pets should not be swayed by their romantic emotions is still prevalent in their society.

So for the audience to see Ivan kiss Till, in one of the most outrageous and public displays possible, further pushes the votes in Till's favor.

And yeah, I also do believe that he kissed Till for him to finally look at him, but I also feel that it was a self-sacrifice too.

And then Ivan violently chokes Till.

Possibly, as another way to give Till votes. Since when Mizi started punching Luka, the audience was outraged at her actions.

Violence is definitely frowned upon on the stage.

More on the choking scene,,

I also saw some people saying that it's because Ivan wanted Till to die with him, which may be part of it. I don't think everything Ivan did was completely selfless.

But

Till accepts it. Earlier when he is at the bar (party? venue? the private show either way), he fights the alien who tries to punch him.

He did show him Mizi's missing image, so he is enraged in this moment, but he does have fight left in him even then.

He doesn't resist when Ivan chokes him just closes his eyes and awaits death. Perhaps if Mizi was already dead, he can just join her in the afterlife since he had no way of knowing she was still alive.

In this way, Ivan is his savior. The one who is finally freeing him from all this pain he felt after losing Mizi. This is his "cure."

And for Ivan, he sorta wants to be a savior to Till. He has freed him on multiple accounts from his shackles. Even helping him run away with him, so they can experience freedom together.

They both get what they want, but,,

Ivan lets go of Till and Till, with an expression that feels like shock, finally looks at Ivan.

Killing him would not give him the freedom that Till needs

that Ivan wants Till to have.

So, like the countless times Till has been chained around his neck, Ivan gives him his chains:

hurting him like he desires.

A scar around his neck.

(Where the scar from his name is)

And mending him,

by taking away the final chain that Ivan could release from Till.

His "cure."

It felt like his final desire was to get Till to snap out of it, to realize that he needs to find true freedom, to not get apathetic at the situation, to keep on going and to live.

He really, truly loves Till even if Till does and never will understand it.

Also final thoughts, is it not strange that Ivan is able to release Till's bindings so easily?

No one else is shown releasing the bindings, so maybe it is just as easy as a press of the button. Yet, I don't feel like it's just poorly designed if that's the case. Because you literally have a person like Ivan releasing a dangerous human like Till. Shouldn't a cautious society like the world of Alien Stage made sure it wouldn't be super easy to get out of.

If there is more to it, I wonder if that'll be a plot point later on. With Ivan leaving behind the secret to getting out of the bindings for Till. So, when a character maybe Till or even Hyuna or Mizi have been captured, they're able to escape since they know how to remove them.

Maybe, I'm just being delulu

And final final thoughts, the kiss was great and definitely made me almost scream. But the way Ivan nuzzled Till has got me acting up.

Like, it's just so soft and sweet and not a big show of it like when Ivan kisses Till on stage.

It feels so intimate, so personal, so full of love.

I just, I just can't. They'll be the death of me.