#ivan the terrible part 1

[empty-dream]

I'll never forgive you. I'll never forgive you, for as long as I live. You know why? Because thanks to you, I now know there's another, happier world out there. So stand up, dammit. Stand up and fight for it. Go on and brag about how you can smile in your world, and tell us why it should be the one to survive. Be proud. Hold your head up high, and fight for your weak little world. Don't you dare go losing to a world like this, a world whose only virtue is strength!

Fate/Grand Order • Cosmos in the Lostbelt : Permafrost Empire, Anastasia

[pacingmusings]

Seen (again) in 2024:

Ivan the Terrible, Part 1 (Sergei Eisenstein), 1944

[entrehormigones]

[illbegottenfaith]

hey!! i loved ur handwritten fic with the notes it was absolutely amazing, do u think u could make a pt 2 of that or just another fic with that format? thank u!! <3

handwritten pt 2 - theo nott x reader

yours and theo's story as told through notes passed in class

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - thank you so much for this lovely!! it gave me the motivation I needed to clean up the dribs and drabs I had drafted out so here it is <3 I have plans/ideas for future chapters too (similar format but might not be restricted to just notes 👀) but I'm not sure how long of a series it'll actually end up being. enjoy!

tropes/warnings - fluff, a little more angst than the last chapter, newstudent!theo, estranged friends to lovers

word count - 1.9k

Saturday, 9.48 pm, The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade

You okay?

Yeah, why?

You’re awfully quiet. And you’ve been staring into your empty butterbeer for the past ten minutes, so either it was terrible or you’re plotting something.

Ha-ha.

You hate this, don’t you?

They’re just not the kind of people I hang out with.

Let’s get out of here.

Are you kidding? This party is for you, Theo.

Look at them. They’re drunk off their tits. No one’s going to mind.

No, stay. I might call it a night soon, though.

Are you sure?

Yeah. Don't worry about me, I’m just not used to hanging out with these kinds of people.

What kind?

I don’t know. Quidditch players. Hooligans. It’s not really my scene.

I didn’t know you felt that way.

I didn’t want to spoil your night.

Listen, it’s getting late. I should probably head back.

Okay. Get your coat, I'll settle the bill.

No, it’s fine, I can pay for my drink. Besides, you should stay.

At least let me walk you back.

Stay. I mean it.

Fine, but I’m paying for your drink. And before you say anything, it’s one lousy butterbeer. Consider it compensation for ruining your evening.

You didn’t ruin my evening. I liked the part when we walked here together. I don’t mind this too much either - scribbling on napkins.

Let me walk you back. Please.

Saturday, 10.19 pm, Ravenclaw Dormitories, Hogwarts

What's with the notebook?

Sorry, Ivan's finally passed out and I don't want to wake him. He hasn't been able to sleep all week, can you imagine? It's that stupid Herbology project - y'know, the one that Katie's been simmering those mandrakes for - I swear, he's so tense in the shoulders. I finally got him to nod off after dinner and it just seems cruel to wake him up and make him go allll the way down to his dorm :(

Fine, but Merlin help you when Katie wakes up and finds him still here. I still can't wrap my head around how much he lets you baby him. He's a Slytherin, for God's sake.

Please, he knew what he was getting himself into. If anything, I think the babying might have been a motivating factor. Anyway, how was the party?

Okay, I think. I kissed him. On the cheek.

YOU'RE going to wake Ivan. Have some goddamn self-control.

OH I KNEW ITTT I knew it the moment he walked into Charms class and you looked up and your eyes met and you lost your tongue and when you looked back he had that shy sort of smile I just KNEW he was going to be so good for you. Because he is, Y/N. He might be the best thing that's happened to you.

Gosh, relax. It's not like it meant anything. What's a little friendly peck between friends here and there? I just did it so he wouldn't follow me back to the castle like a lost puppy. Besides, he's not that perfect.

A real human being with real human flaws? You don't say.

It's hard to explain. He's only being this nice because he knows what he's done.

What has he done?

Some pretty hard-to-forgive stuff. I don't want to get into it right now.

Have you?

Have I what?

Forgiven him.

I don't know. I mean, I see him trying to reach out, but every time, even now, with the party - something stops me from...fully connecting. Something holds me back.

I don't think I have.

Monday, 9.13 am, Charms

Did you get back alright?

Yup.

I wanted to come check, but the guys...

I told you they weren't going to let their guest of honour run off. So how was the rest of the night?

Middling. They started up a game of strip poker when we got back.

Oh.

Allegedly, normal poker was too ordinary for a night as special as that.

You're kidding, right?

Oh my fucking god, you gamble??

Who said the poker had anything to do with gambling?

So you don’t gamble?

I didn’t say that.

Theo.

OUCH enough with the pinching! I've already had ten years too many of it.

I can't help that it's the only way to get you to behave.

I don’t see what the problem is. It’s my money to use as I see fit. Plus, I'm very careful about the people I play with. Merlin knows we have too much anyway.

Unbelievable. Gambling, really? Why not just drop out of Hogwarts and live slot machine to slot machine, huh? Why don't you just set up shop at some casino in Las Vegas?

I'm very confused. Do you want to go to Vegas?

You have the attention span of a fruit fly.

Because that's not a half-bad idea. We could make a whole trip out of it over the summer.

Your friends need to introduce you to more legal forms of recreation. What are you doing Wednesday night?

Nothing yet.

Good. I'm teaching you Exploding Snap.

Isn't that a kid's game?

FUCK I'm SORRY but DO NOT pinch me in the same place twice.

Oh, quit whining. You'll live.

Barely. If you keep this up, I'm going to start sitting far far away from you and those PINCERS you call fingers.

Wednesday, 1.02 pm, Potions

I ran into Katie on the way here and Merlin, she was in hysterics. I'm out of the room for one night and I miss you making out with Loverboy in our dorm??? Geez, at least put a sock on the door.

We were not making out!!! Katie just walked in at an unfortunate time.

Uh-huh.

Look, he was the one who showed up at the window on his broom, drunk out of his mind.

Drunk??

I know! What was he thinking, risking his neck all the way up there at the Ravenclaw dorms?? It was like he didn't even notice too. I thought I was hallucinating at first, but then I opened the window and nope, that was him, and then I screamed and he nearly fell off his broom so I hauled him inside. He practically faceplanted on the floor. I was terrified - I thought he was poisoned or something, but then I tried to prop him up and he had this dopey look on his face and he reeked of firewhiskey. Ugh, it was so annoying. I don’t want to talk about it.

You know what he said to me? After all that?

I thought you didn’t want to talk about this?

Uh-oh.

Uh-oh?

Uh-oh. Like a goddamn Looney Tunes character.

Looney Tunes?

Never mind. He was all ‘uh-oh, you’re mad at me’ while I was trying to get him to drink some coffee and I was like yeah, no shit, you look like you’re seconds away from puking all over my dorm. And then he started…he started talking about the party, and me leaving, and how sorry he was he brought me in the first place.

Aww.

I know, right? I felt like crap. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal to him.

Of course it was a big deal. That was him introducing you to his new friends.

Exactly, new friends. What does he want with me?

Y/N, are you daft? Do you not see the way he looks at you? He so clearly cares what you think about his friends.

What on earth are you talking about?

Ivan's on the team so they hang out together sometimes and he says Theo's a lot different around you. He doesn't swear as much, he drops his voice a little and he's extra attentive. Hell, he nearly got into a fight with some dunce in our year over the way that guy was talking about you. Y/N, he obviously cares about you so, so much. Please tell me you didn’t say anything too harsh.

I called the whole lot of them hooligans.

NOOOOO

But t's true!! Have you seen their matches? How they don't rip each other to shreds is beyond me. But I didn't mean that he was like that. Theo could never be like them. He'd play a good, fair, clean game.

Yeah. Sure.

What's that supposed to mean?

You haven't watched a single one of his practices, have you?

No. Should I?

Never mind. What happened next?

That's when things started going downhill. He started trying to remove his shirt because it was so hot from Katie’s blasted simmering pot of mandrakes. I was trying to stop him, only he wasn’t listening, and apparently he gets rather clingy and touchy when he’s, y’know, tipsy, and then…Katie walked in.

Damn.

Of course that's when he decides to sober up, so I look like an idiot while everyone in the room - yes! even him!!! - wants to know what I’m doing in his lap. He was sooooo polite too, as if he hadn’t just rudely breaking-and-entering’d his way into my room. ‘Oh, hello, Y/N. What a tastefully decorated room you have, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re sitting so close, Y/N?’ As if I want to be sitting in his lap!

Right.

Because I don’t.

Okay.

‘Cause that would be so weird.

Mhm.

Like…ew.

Okay, okay. I get it. I believe you.

He wouldn’t even let me get up or anything. Just kept talking to Katie about the weather with his hand on my thigh, casual as ever. I swear, if that teammate of his - what's his name, Mattheo? - hadn't come looking for him, I don't know how I would have gotten him down to his dorm.

What a thriller of a story, from start to finish.

Yeah, well, I could do it with a little less thrill in my life.

Aw, I think it was sweet. That disaster of a party was clearly eating at him.

Yeah. I mean, we're friends. It should bother him if I've had a shitty night, right? But also...we're just friends.

For the record, you're a different person around him too.

Psh. Yeah right.

Different how?

Ivyyyy

Thursday, 3.07 pm, Defence Against the Dark Arts

How’s your hand?

Doing very badly, thank you very much.

I have to say, I didn’t take you to be this sore of a loser.

My fingertips have been singed off. Forgive me if I seem a little sulky.

Aww. Was the kid's game a little too hard for the big, manly, Quidditch player?

You tricked me. You didn't even tell me all of the rules before we started playing.

Oh, come on. You knew enough to play.

But not to win!

Yes, well, I wasn't about to hand you a victory on a silver platter. I thought Slytherins were supposed to be clever, or something. Maybe you're the 'something.'

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We'll see who's laughing after next week's chess match.

Does it hurt a lot? Your fingers?

For a lesser man? Perhaps. I think I'm dealing with the pain quite well, actually.

So if we didn't have class, you'd be -?

Writhing on the floor of my dorm.

Ah, I see. Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?

Promises, promises.

But you still had fun, didn’t you?

It is quite the adrenaline rush.

I knew it.

Alas, my fingertips…

Oh, sod off. You always were the biggest drama queen.

[squirrellypoo]

Ep8 "What Can The Damned Really Say To The Damned" rewatch thoughts (Part 1)

On my third rewatch of the first episode of season 2, I noticed a ton more than I had before. Whether that's because it was on a brighter tv screen, or just that my initial buzz had stopped overloading my cognitive functions, who knows.

In any case, here's my first 10 things I missed!

Just after the massacre of soldiers at the checkpoint - Louis spits something out as they walk away. Did he also help kill them? Is that a tooth or something? I love the idea that Louis is doing a lot more human hunting that he ever lets on...

2. “Or is it the sleep of an infant? Tabula rasa” - I had to look up this term because I'd not heard it before, but it's roughly the philosophical idea that babies’ minds are born as a blank slate. (Wikipedia)

3. Just before Louis complains that he’s cold, you can see that the bonfire is using a dead soldier as fuel. Additionally, he's talking about his refusal to burn Lestat as they huddle around it (nice touch, sicko writers!).

4. Obviously I knew that the "Huns" were German soldiers, but I wasn't sure what “Beasts of Ivan” was referring to... Russian forces? Or Ivan the Terrible (Treblinka guard)? TBH, even after googling, I'm still not entirely sure.

5. Oh god the skeletons of the vampires they discover - Louis and Claudia don’t know to scatter the ashes so their souls are still likely trapped in there?? 😭 (See also: Daciana after the fire…)

6. The Dubai staff member taking Louis’s blood dish away is wearing a face mask and gloves but Real Rashid is wearing gloves but no mask… Who do we know that did that in season 1, eh?? 👀

7. Now, this might not be anything but I thought it was interesting that you can see Louis’s breath in the sequence with Hallucistat (whose breath you can also see). So does that mean he's fed recently to be warm enough to do so? There was a great story on the Truest Blood podcast where the actors talked about needing to suck on ice cubes so that their breath didn't show up on camera, and that detail really stuck with me.

8. Louis says “I had taken 7,000 souls by then.” Ok, let's do some maths - 7,000 divided by 35 years is 200 per year, or 3.5 per week. That's roughly one murder every other day, which seems like a lot for someone claiming to be a vegetarian?? Like, was he killing several a night in the early years with Lestat (the "blood-drunken night in Baton Rogue", for instance), and for the past several years with Claudia? Sure, we see him bite a rat here, but he's clearly killing more than he wants to admit to himself...

9. The little boy that Morgan bribes with a cigarette to take Claudia away from adult conversation - his name is Andrei. Book readers may remember that this was Armand's given human name. (I don't think it means anything, I just think it's a nice touch from the writers, and they might change this in the show to be something more appropriate to his background)

10. After Louis remembers that Emilia mentioned about the woods after Claudia left, Armand suggests Louis takes a break. Daniel then goes on a rant to Real Rashid, ending with “You I can fucking break!” Louis dismisses Rashid, but then then Armand immediately follows him out of the room. What was Armand following him for? What was he saying to Rashid?

Part II coming up! Let me know in the Notes if you also missed any of these...

[maimingaffairs]

Moonlight & Shadows (aleksander morozova x fem!moon summoner!reader)

READ PART 1 HERE

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the requested part two to another request i had gotten previously so PLEASE read that first. it’ll make it easier for you to understand this one :) apologies in advance for how long this is… i got very carried away.

requested by: @sloppyzengarden

as always.. PLEASE SEND ME YOUR LOVELY REQUESTS <33

warnings: major character death, spoilers for season 2, canon typical violence, mentions of blood. slightly (?) ooc (?) mal

word count: 17.5k

-

Tendrils of shadow weaved themselves between your glowing fingers and you tapped them, watching as the darkness of the shadows fizzled into a soft silvery shower of tiny sparks.

Your delicate hand was clasped tightly in Aleksander’s much larger, scarred one. A black mark covered the back of his hand where the bone of the stag used to sit, fused into his skin.

With your free hand and his, the two of you absentmindedly messed around with your powers, something the two of you did often. He claimed you should use it often and that’s why he did it, but you suspected it was because he enjoyed watching your light consume his shadows and turn them into silvery, moonlit sparks.

You sat on one of his thighs while your legs were draped across the other and you laid your head down on his shoulder. Every now and then, he’d turn to press a kiss to the side of your face. Despite the situation you were in, the pressures you both were under, you’d never felt so adored.

You pulled back just a bit to look up at his face to admire him. Black scars now decorated his beautiful face and there was a different roughness to him ever since you had found him, emerging from The Fold.

He didn’t like his scars, but to you, they were just another part of the man you loved so dearly. Every part of him was so beautiful to you.

As if sensing your stare, he slowly turned his head downwards and gazed at you through his half-lidded, tired eyes.

“What’re you staring at, little one?” He asked and reached down to run just the tips of his calloused fingers over your cheek.

“Just you. What else?” You answered honestly, and he simply let out a short laugh.

He didn’t respond in any other way, instead deciding to wrap both of his arms around your waist. You laid your hands on his chest and rested your cheek against his collarbone, eyes falling shut slowly. Comfort washed over you like a warm rain and you gathered the lapels of his kefta in your fists, holding yourself as close to him as you possibly could.

Most of your nights ended like this, together. Ever since you had found him, crawling out of The Fold with his nichevo'ya following behind him, he’d held you just a little bit tighter when he got the chance to. He hadn’t allowed you to board the skiff with him and Alina on that fateful day where everything went terribly wrong. He’d instead had Ivan put you to sleep and left you in his tent back at the army encampment. When you woke, you could feel him. All of him. All of his pain, his suffering, and most of all, you could feel the way he was calling for you. You heard it in your mind, and it led you all the way to the edge of The Fold. When he came stumbling out, you ran to him, taking him into your capable arms.

When you promised him forever, you meant just that.

You’d always known there was a darkness within Aleksander. A darkness that was more than just the shadows he controlled.

A darkness that you’d taken in whole and accepted as part of the man you loved.

There was much unspoken between the two of you, much that was unnecessary to speak. He knew you better than you knew yourself, and at this point, you liked to believe that you knew him better than he did.

“You ought to be getting some sleep, my precious Saint.” He whispered and placed a kiss against the side of your head.

“I do not wish to, not yet.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I am comfortable here with you.” You replied and looked up at him. His face was soft, a sight you’d seldom seen before his emergence from The Fold. You felt a twinge of sadness in your stomach and he must have noticed it on your face, because he cupped your face with one hand and leaned down towards you.

“Oh, my love. None of that. Do not pity me. I am alive and I am well. You are mine, I am yours, we will emerge victorious through it all, all is right. All is well.” he cooed in a tone that could’ve convinced you that the sky was green rather than blue.

His warm lips pressed themselves against your temple and he drew you in closer to himself until you were completely covered in him.

“My beautiful Saint of the Moon, sleep now. I will not let go of you.” he promised in that same velvet tone, and it was enough to make you close your eyes.

“But you need your sleep, too, moi soverenyi.” you whispered to him, but you felt his finger tap your lips.

“I will sleep once I know you have comfortably fallen into your very own slumber. As I do every night.” he replied and you nuzzled your face into the side of his chest.

You listened to the shallow beating of his heart underneath your cheek and you focused on the rise and fall of his chest, never wanting to move from the spot you’d taken up residency in for the night. The distant sound of his heart lulled you to sleep, slowly at first, and then your exhaustion came down on you like an avalanche, pulling you down into its clutches.

-

“Do you think perhaps once we find the last amplifier that I could have a bit of it, too?” you asked softly, watching as Aleksander flipped through a leather bound book on the table in front of the two of you.

Vladim, a small Alkemi pushed another book towards Aleksander and he let out a discontented hum.

“But of course, my little moonbeam. Anything you would like shall be yours.” he mumbled distractedly and you heard a snort from the other side of the room. You glanced over at Baghra who sat in her cage, eyeing you with contempt.

“Feeling like a little house kitten yet, Miss y/l/n?” Baghra asked and Aleksander’s head perked up.

“Speak not to my Moon Summoner, woman. Keep your spite to yourself and rot with it, mother.” he said sharply and then as if he had to apologize, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Do ignore her. She couldn’t possibly understand the capacity of that which I have affection for you.” he murmured and then picked up another book.

“Please. You know little of true affection, Aleksander. You’ll have your fun with your pet and then once the novelty wears off, you’ll want another. Something else to gain.” she said with a sense of pride that made you curl your fingers into fists.

“Last I checked, Baghra, I was not the one collared and chained to a skiff. My presence is entirely voluntary.” you snapped, referring to Alina.

“Voluntary because you choose to show him what tricks you’ve learned. Because you derive your pride and pleasures on making him proud. Proud of the tricks he taught you. You-“

“Enough!” Aleksander yelled and turned towards Baghra, “Bitter hag. Make your assumptions to yourself, for you know little of what you speak.” he snapped and the room fell entirely silent.

His arm wrapped around your middle and he pulled you into his side tightly.

“You can have whatever you like. If you desire The Firebird, then I shall give it to you on a silver platter.” he repeated and then stared down at you, his eyes steely, “A queen deserves that much.”

A warm feeling, much akin to drunkenness, filled your chest as you looked up at Aleksander and he trailed his eyes away from the journal in his hands. He looked down upon your face and then he sighed.

“Stop gazing at me like that. We have things to do today and if I catch your affectionate stare once more, I will want nothing else but to stare back.” He replied and then he set the journal down and clutched your hands in his.

He gave you a soft smile and then he ducked down to place a delicate kiss on your cheekbone.

“My dear girl, would you be so kind as to fetch me the notebook that is in our room?” He asked softly and you looked up at him, giving his hands a soft squeeze.

“Of course. Give me a moment, I’ll be right back.” You promised and he moved in to give you one more peck on the side of your face and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Once he had released your hands and turned back to his work with Vladim, you walked out into the hallway, humming quite contently to yourself.

You rounded the corner to your bedroom when a hand closed itself around your arm. You spun around urgently only to see Genya standing behind you, her lips pursed in a frown.

“Y/n,” she began, speaking in a tone not much louder than a simple breath, “I am hoping you will find it within yourself to help me.”

You gazed into the red headed girl’s eyes and you blinked a couple of times, reaching up to gently lay your hand on her forearm.

“You look ever so frightened, Genya.”

“I need your help-“

“Yes but you are shaking.” You protested, cutting her off.

“That is why I need your help!” She exclaimed and then she leaned her face into her hands, “I did not mean to raise my voice to you, I apologize, y/n.”

You’d never seen her act so skittish before and it struck a chord of worry deep within you.

“Oh, please no. Don’t apologize. Just tell me what you need, darling.” You breathed, trying to be as soft and kind as you could be to the anxiety ridden girl.

“David and I-“ Once again, the girl was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream behind the two of you, and you slowly turned around.

The scream resonated in your bones, it nearly made you shiver with its proximity. You’d heard that kind of scream many times before; someone was in great pain.

Determined footsteps followed just a moment later and they echoed down the hall, coming closer to the two of you.

Genya let go of your arm instantly and she turned the opposite corner and took off in a fast walk, leaving you standing in confusion. Just as you went to walk to your bedroom, another hand caught your arm and you looked up to see Aleksander.

He did not look down at you this time. His face, though stoic, had a burning fury bubbling just underneath the skin, and you could see this through his dark eyes. His jaw was set so tightly you thought he might shatter each and every one of his teeth. You had not been around an angry Aleksander before. Either he displayed his anger elsewhere, or he was just very skilled at keeping it at bay. Whatever the case may have been, the apoplectic glint in his eyes made you frown and you wanted to make yourself very small in that moment.

“My love?” You whispered and reached up to place your hand on top of his as he held your upper arm.

His restraint was impressive. For someone who had eons of rage just beneath the surface, he held your arm so gently that you would have believed him to be much happier if you’d felt his touch without seeing his face.

After just a moment, he tipped his head down towards you and he gave you a very, very tense look.

“I have acquired amplifiers for you and I.” He said simply and then he let his fingers fall away from your arm before he gently brushed past you and strode down the hall.

You wondered where he could have found an amplifier so instantaneously and you turned around and made your way back into the room he had just left.

Vladimi stood at his table with a semi-disgusted look on his face and you stared at him for a moment before you dared to look over at Baghra, who had her hand cradled against her chest. Blood slipped through her fingers at a rapid rate and dribbled onto the floor beneath her. You questioned what had happened and turned to Vladim to ask, though, you wished you hadn’t, because the boy held a dish with one severed finger sitting upon it.

Your mouth fell open and you looked between Vladim and Baghra rapidly before you retreated out of the room, feeling rather sick to your stomach.

-

You hadn’t seen Aleksander all day. Not since he informed you that you now had an amplifier. The thought made you shiver.

You had never been fond of Baghra, in fact, the two of you had a very tumultuous acquaintanceship. She was very well aware of the fact that you stood with her son at all times, completely devoted to him. Just as you were well aware she was completely devoted to his downfall. The two beliefs didn’t match up, and neither did the two of you. That didn’t necessarily mean you wanted her to be dismembered in the name of your own gain.

It wasn’t as if you were angry with Aleksander, though. Truth be told, you were a bit afraid of him at the moment. You had never seen the man angry before. He was smart, he played his cards right, and he was cautious to never show you his anger, his contempt. Perhaps it was because he knew just how terrifying he could be. He didn’t need a gun, he didn’t need weaponry of any kind, he didn’t even need to raise his voice. All Aleksander needed to invoke fear was a simple change in his eyes, and the look in them earlier was enough to send a biting chill down to your very bones. And you weren’t even the subject of his anger.

You finished your ninth slow lap around the grounds of the sanctuary and you rubbed your cold nose a few times, letting out a little sigh. You’d been outside walking for quite some time now, trying to decide what to do next. You wanted to thank Aleksander for the amplifier, but you also wanted to ask him why. You wanted to go inside and sit on his thigh while he pondered by his window, but you didn’t want to see his anger. So you instead went for your tenth circle around the grounds, only getting started before someone cleared their throat near you.

You turned your head to see David walking alongside you now and you gave him a little smile. He didn’t smile back.

“Is there anything I can do for you, David?” You asked, keeping the polite smile on your face as you spoke to him.

“Yes. I need to ask something of you. I would never ask if I wasn’t completely desperate.” He mumbled and then looked away from you.

“Ask.” You instructed, and you were almost surprised with how your tone resembled Aleksander’s.

David must have thought the same thing because his eyes shot towards you and he studied your face for a moment before he shook his head.

“I am… leaving. With Genya. I need you to keep The Darkling… occupied. For the evening. Please, y/n. I know very well of your devotion to him, I know what I risk by asking this of you, but I saw your eyes today, when you realized what he’d done to Baghra. You are afraid of him. So are we. Please, I beg you to let us go. Let us escape. Buy us some time.” He explained, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice.

You eyed him and pursed your lips. A bit of your own anger began to build and you let out a little scoff.

“Do you realize what you ask of me? You want me to deceive the man who protects me? Who protects you? All of us? David, he saved Genya. He saved you, and all you can do to repay him is run?” You asked incredulously, your eyes narrowing.

“He is no man! He is evil in its truest form. He commands wicked things, horrible things. He inspires nothing a man who saves his people should inspire. He inspires fear! Pure fear!” David protested and then stopped walking, causing you to stop as well.

You looked the Durast up and down in disgust and you clenched your hands into fists.

“You only fear what you don’t understand. Just because you cannot see the beauty in his nature does not mean it isn’t there. You and Genya are ingrates. You should be ashamed of yourselves. He saved you, took you in, gives you purpose and a shelter in a country where Grisha are being hunted every single day-“

“And why are they being hunted now?” David asked sharply, cutting you off.

“Because they fear what they don’t understand!” You exclaimed, “Just as you do! Just as Genya does! My answer is no. I will not aid in your abandonment. If you wish to run, do so at your own risk. I hide nothing from my Darkling.” You hissed, squaring your shoulders as you stared up at David.

The mild-mannered man looked down at you in a sort of disbelief and then he shook his head.

“I cannot have you tell him what we have planned.” He said somberly and reached out for your arm, but you jumped back as quickly as he moved forward.

“I will tell him what I please!” You shrieked and held your hand up threateningly, the silvery light of the moon glowing just beneath your skin, “It would do you well to not try and stop me, David Kostyk.” You warned before you stepped back once more. You stared at him for just a moment longer before you took off back towards the sanctuary, running with intent. You looked back just once to see him running in the opposite direction. Frustration filled your chest and you ran even faster up to the doors. You flung them open once you reached them and dashed inside. It took all the self control you had not to scream Aleksander’s name, and as soon as you came running through the halls, Genya went running past you and you gasped.

You ran down the hall to your bedroom, your footsteps graceless and loud as you stampeded towards the room and you pushed the door open.

Aleksander sat in his chair and when the door flew open, he slowly looked up at you.

If he was angry still, there was no trace of it left on his face and in his eyes. Instead he looked exhausted, pained, regretful.

You let out a loud cry of frustration and you pointed towards the hall, out of breath.

“Genya and David are deserting!” You cried out.

That got his attention and he stood as quickly as you got the words out. He grabbed his cloak from off of the table it laid on and he nodded towards the door.

“Come then.” He commanded simply and he stormed out of the room and you followed behind him, your chest heaving.

He pulled his cloak on as he walked and then reached back to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him.

“How do you know they are deserting?” He asked you as the pair of you made your way outside towards his horse.

“David. He asked me to keep you distracted while he ran with Genya.” You admitted and Aleksander looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Then I suppose we will have to put a stop to that, won’t we?” He asked in a hum.

As soon as you reached his horse, he hoisted you up onto the animal and climbed on behind you and kicked the horse in the side, getting it to move.

You looked out across the clearing before you and you saw Genya’s head bobbing above and beneath the tops of shrubbery and twiggy bushes.

“There.” You said and pointed towards the distance, and Aleksander didn’t waste any time in steering his horse in that same direction.

You placed your hands on top of his gently and you let out a very quiet sigh.

“I am sorry, my love.” You whispered and you could feel him shake his head behind you.

“This is not your doing, I will not have you apologetic for the actions of others.” He replied and simply urged his horse on faster until the only sound you heard was the thundering of the animal’s hooves.

The two of you chased the girl up a few paths until you rounded a corner and he called out for her viciously.

“Stand and answer me!” He shouted determinedly.

Genya was cornered. There was nowhere else for her to run now that she was stuck between some old ruins and you and Aleksander. Your lover threw himself off of the horse and you stayed up on its back, staring down at him as he stalked towards her.

His hood hung over his head ominously, and the ground beneath his feet blackened in little tendrils, all radiating out from him. Genya was shaking like a frightened animal and her eyes darted between you and Aleksander in terror.

Normally, you probably would’ve felt pity for the scared girl, but all you felt in that moment was a white hot twinge of frustration .

How dare she so easily abandon the man who saved her life? The man who wanted nothing but peace for his people.

You stared coldly at the girl and you straightened up your shoulders, your jaw setting sternly.

Aleksander pushed his hood off of his head as he approached the Tailor and he looked around the small clearing.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked lowly, still approaching Genya, “I rescue you from certain death, yet you abandon me.” His tone was calm, so soft that it was eerie.

She looked up at you as if you might save her from her fate, but you simply watched her as if this was nothing but a show put on for your own entertainment, a silly little attempt at your amusement.

Her face became one of anger and she whipped her head towards Aleksander.

“You used me to satisfy a king. I should be your greatest shame,” she replied, her voice trembling just as hard as she was, “Please,” she began, tears forming in her wide blue eyes, “just let me go.” She wasn’t begging, she wasn’t asking. She was trying to reason with him.

She turned towards you and then she let out a fragment of a gasp.

“And you! Who have you become? You were my friend!” She cried and pointed at you shakily.

You raised an eyebrow and then let out a long sigh. You tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and you shifted on the horse.

“You speak of things you have no possible capacity of knowing.” You replied in an even tone.

“Please, just let me go.” She repeated, eyes still on you as if you were going to speak up on her behalf.

You weren’t.

“I’m afraid not.” Aleksander spoke, and you tore your eyes away from Genya just in time to see one of his nichevo'ya rise up from the ground at his side, “I need you, Genya.” He added, approaching her with small steps, his side half consumed by the cyclonic billowing of shadows that made up his new creatures of nothing.

Genya jammed her hand into her coat and yanked out a gun, and without hesitation, shot into the nichevo'ya. The misshapen humanlike form of shadow moved toward her, followed by Aleksander and she made one last look up at you before the nichevo'ya wrapped itself around her and she let out a gut twisting scream.

You averted your eyes from the scene in front of you and pushed down the little sliver of guilt that prodded at your throat.

She deserved it. She was going to desert you. She betrayed Aleksander, she would have gone straight to Alina.

You closed your eyes and took a few slow breaths before you opened them again and exhaled slowly. You kept your eyes on your hands now as Genya continued to scream and for only a second, you thought you tasted but a lick of the fear that compelled Genya and David.

-

Aleksander was nearly doubled over coughing when you entered your room. You approached him with caution to make sure you didn’t startle him, and you laid your hand gently on his back, passing him a handkerchief from the pocket of your kefta.

He took it from you very gently and held it over his mouth as he continued to cough. After a few moments of this, he straightened up slowly and lowered the handkerchief. He dropped it on the chair he was clutching onto and you didn’t dare look at it, afraid of what you might find.

His eyes found your face and he reached out for you, his hand sliding gently around your neck as he pulled you into his chest.

“I know that look. I’ve told you not to pity me.” He mumbled and tucked your head against his chest. His voice was hoarse and he sounded exhausted, but you let him pull you close nonetheless and wrapped your arms around him tightly.

“Aleksander, I do not pity you. I worry for you. Grisha do not get sick, yet you cough and are burdened with headaches. I have the right to worry. I lo…” you slowly trailed off and let out a small huff. You didn’t let yourself finish, instead, you pressed your face against his kefta and closed your eyes tightly.

Many of the emotional things between you and Aleksander went unspoken, and it had always been this way. You weren’t doubtful that he loved you, just as he wasn’t doubtful that you loved him. Nonetheless, it was a word that fell into the realm of the unspoken.

You never knew why.

Perhaps it was that it had a deeper meaning than just the affection you two held for one another. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to proclaim your love for him in verbal form. But he never did. Not in such a direct way. For you, not telling Aleksander that you loved him was simply because he never did either, but for him, you theorized that it was much deeper. Maybe it was because he didn’t love you- which you didn’t believe for one moment- or maybe it was because the last time he claimed love for someone, they were murdered before his very eyes. Or perhaps it was because the moment he said it aloud, he would give up the very thing that kept him impenetrable to his enemies: he would give up his supposed invincibility.

To his enemies, The Darkling didn’t have weaknesses. He didn’t falter, and he didn’t hesitate.

To most of them at least. It was no secret that you two were close, and Alina knew that much. Though, you didn’t fear Alina. Neither did he.

But you were his weakness, just as he was yours. You admittedly had many more weaknesses than he, your so few years on this earth leaving you with soft spots that had yet to harden. He had the luxury of having those soft spots hidden behind walls and steel and stone.

His hand slid away from your neck and up into your hair as you stood silently in your thoughts, and his fingers curled protectively against your scalp.

“You worry for such trivial things, angel.” He replied quietly.

It wasn’t trivial.

Not to you.

If he didn’t get the third amplifier before Alina did, you knew that his use of merzost freely would poison him until his heart finally did stop for the first time in over five hundred years.

You didn’t say anything more. You just kept your face hidden against his chest and you clung to him, desperate to have him as close to you as possible. Especially tonight. Especially after Genya.

The two of you hadn’t said a word on the matter, and you knew it was because Aleksander knew he’d frightened you, even if you did try to mask it with a replica of the hard facade of his that you coveted so deeply at times.

A knock on the door broke your silence and pulled you away from your wondering thoughts and Aleksander gently pulled your head away from his chest with the grip he had on your hair. He leaned down and pressed one delicate kiss to your lips before he let go of you and cleared his throat.

“Yes?” He called and the door opened briskly.

His unofficial right hand, Fruzsi stepped into the room and she approached the two of you instantly.

“General, Miss y/l/n.” She greeted with reverence.

Aleksander hardly acknowledged her greeting and instead turned his body towards her and let out a quiet wheeze before he spoke.

“The moment Genya is conscious, let’s take her and make sure the others understand what awaits them if they are disloyal.” He instructed and you bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to be part of that.

“With pleasure.” Fruzsi replied obediently and clutched her hands in front of her as she bowed her head just slightly at Aleksander.

He turned back around and faced you now, reaching out to carefully adjust your kefta, straightening it and dusting it off just a bit.

“I’ll admit disappointment,” he began and then he tidied up the collar of your kefta, and though he was fiddling with your clothing, you knew he was speaking to Fruzsi, “I always felt an affinity for her. And David,” he continued before he turned back towards the other girl in the room.

“Morozova’s journal is missing.” She blurted and you stiffened.

The journal was the only thing you all had with the information that was needed to possibly cure Aleksander’s ailment that he’d dragged out of The Fold with himself.

His shoulders stiffened and you reached out to grasp his forearm, and though he didn’t acknowledge you, he was thankful that your hand was on his arm.

Your touch grounded him.

“Vladim believes David took it.” Fruzsi continued on, a look of worry ghosting over her features.

Aleksander didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds and you brushed your thumb soothingly over the sleeve of his kefta, even though you were sure he didn’t feel it through the thick material.

Of course David would take it. The one thing that you needed. The betrayal of Aleksander by two people he claimed to trust sent a stab of sickness up through your stomach.

“And with it, any possibility of understanding my… condition.” he slowly turned towards you, his face colorless. The same anger from earlier boiled just beneath his skin and his eyes seemed to glow with the same fury.

You practically cowered underneath his indignant stare.

His lip curled back just slightly and you let out a shaking breath, your hand tightening around his arm, mouth forming his name.

You had never been one for anger before. It took a great deal to get you to the point of rage, and even then, you kept yourself as calm as you could. You had to. All of your life, you had to. You could tell by the look in your lover’s eyes, that he reached his breaking point. There was no masking his anger now, his mask had fallen, and there was no amount of patience now that could compel him to slip the mask back on.

“Leave.” He hissed over his shoulder at Fruzsi.

The girl glanced worriedly at him and then at you before she bowed her head once more and scurried out of the room.

Aleksander yanked his arm from your grip and you gasped softly.

“Aleksander, my love-“ you began but he held up a hand to silence you.

You fell silent, your heart hammering anxiously against your chest now.

He breathed heavily for a moment before he launched his arms down upon his desk and sent everything atop it flying, a loud, mangled cry leaving his mouth. He turned his back on you and leaned up against the desk as he continued to scream, and you brought your hands up to your mouth, tears gathering in your eyes.

The sound of his yells and the clattering of objects flying off the desk made you jump and you stumbled backwards just a bit, a tiny cry escaping your lips. You held your hands tightly over your mouth and watched him as he lifted a shaking hand and turned it over, staring at the remnants of his and Alina’s shared amplifier.

You watched him in shock and you shook your head, lowering your hands from your mouth.

You knew very well of the tether Aleksander shared with Alina, and you also knew of the dangers that came with it. He loved to have the last word, loved to toy with the girl as if she was a mouse caught by only her tail and he was the cat that held her in place.

“My love, do not call on her, you’ll only grow angrier.” You whispered and stepped towards him.

But he already had.

-

You had barely left your room for a week now. You’d barely found the will to speak along with your desire to not leave the room.

Aleksander knew very well that he had scared you the night the journal was reported missing, and though he didn’t come out and apologize aloud yet, he’d spent a considerable amount of time with his arms around you. He would hold you against his chest and he’d coo sweet little things in your ears and he’d rock you back and forth like he was comforting a baby.

His guilt was eating him alive, perhaps more rapidly than the merzost was.

Tonight in particular pained him more than the others.

You were sat at his desk and stacked his papers carefully after arranging them. He wasn’t angry, he didn’t even mean to stand up so fast and so aggressively, but he rose rapidly from his favored chair and you jumped backwards, eyes wide as you looked up at him.

You stood up quickly and tried to play it off as just getting up, but he’d seen the way you’d flinched.

“Y/n,” he whispered and slowly moved towards you. When he was only a foot away from you, you looked up at him and gave him a watery smile and shook your head.

“No, Aleksander I’m just fine. It’s okay.” You insisted and held your hands out to dismiss whatever he was about to say. You knew the look on his face well. He was stricken.

“You are not fine. You walk on eggshells around me. You have ever since Genya.” He stated and you swallowed nervously, shaking your head in protest.

“I don’t, I promise.” You insisted, your voice getting stuck in your throat nearly at the end.

“What do you call this, then? You jumping at my abrupt movements, your newfound anxiety in my presence. Just seven days ago, I brought you comfort. I know this has to do with her and my outburst and I am sorry that-“

“No! No! Please, Aleksander! You have nothing to apologize for-“

“I am sorry that I allowed myself to act that-“

“Please, no-“ you cut him off again, only to be cut off in return.

“Will you just listen? It was no way for me to behave. Especially in front of you. Because if I don’t have your devotion and your trust then I have nothing.” He said firmly and reached down to cup your face in his hands.

His touch was feather-light and he held your face carefully as if you were thin, breakable glass.

“You have my devotion and all of my trust. It was just… new. Genya has nothing to do with it. I’ve just never seen you so… angry. It startled me.” You admitted in a whisper and Aleksander leaned down to rest his forehead against yours.

“My sweet little angel, I do apologize for startling you. Please know that my anger will never be turned on you, it will never be directed towards you. How could I be angry with you? You stand by me so adamantly and so loyally. That is a wonder. A beautiful wonder. I’ve not known such unconditional devotion.”

“That’s because it’s not only unconditional devotion, Aleksander.” You whispered and closed your eyes, your lips trembling under the weight of the words you wished to speak.

“What else is it, then?”

“I am devoted to you, that is the truth. But I don’t regard you with only devotion, Aleksander. This unconditional devotion you speak of is not devotion at all. It is love.” Your voice broke at the end and a single tear rolled down your cheek, “It is love Aleksander. Unconditional love. And I know you don’t wish to say that aloud, but it’s-“

He cut you off yet again, this time with his lips crashing down upon your own.

You received his kiss with a type of reverence that could only be comparable to the kind you give to a God and you returned his action by kissing him back. His fingers curled into your hair and held your face to his as he kissed you with the same reverence, and you could feel past his apology, past the shared reverence. You felt his sorrow and his fear and his devotion to you, all in his kiss. When he finally pulled back to take in a breath of air, he let out the tiniest cry you had ever heard out of his mouth and he clenched his jaw painfully tight.

“What have you done to me, woman?” He asked breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut.

You opened your mouth to answer but you never got the chance to, because he spoke again before you could.

“I don’t fear things. I am the one to be feared. But I fear losing you. It rattles me down to my very skeleton. I fear losing you the way I should fear death. Tell me what you’ve done to me. Tell me what curse you’ve put on me to leave me in such a haze. Tell me why you have me on my knees for your love. Oh, I want it. I need it. I crave it. Oh, how I want you. I need you. I crave you. You are the light that belongs to the darkness. The Moon needs the shadows to shine. You were meant for me, just as I was meant for you. And oh, my beautiful saint, how I love you.”

You gasped at his words softly and he nudged his nose against your own, and you didn’t notice that you were crying until he was wiping your cheeks dry with his thumbs.

“When we win, when we get out of this victorious and I rise as King, I will make you my queen. I will have you for life. I will marry you, underneath that pretty willow behind the Little Palace, in the dead of night where we can be surrounded by nothing but shadows and moonlight. Isn’t that what we are? Shadows and moonlight?” His tone was hushed and it was devout, as if he were a prophet reading you his favorite scripture.

You brought your own hands up to Aleksander’s face and you cupped it the same way he cupped yours. You wanted to speak, but you weren’t sure if anything would leave your mouth except for sobs, so you let him continue.

“I fall at your feet, Sankta y/n. You are my very own saint to worship, and I will make sure that one day, you are the one they scrawl into the history books and sacred texts. Sankta y/n, summoner of the Moon. My love, my life. You are the one thing that makes me stronger while simultaneously making me weak.”

“That is love, my dear Aleksander.” You cried and he shushed you with a handful of light kisses over your trembling lips.

“That is love.” He echoed, his lips so close to yours that they brushed your bottom lip when he spoke.

The two of you stood in silence for a long time, and he wiped your tears when they fell and you brushed your thumb over the soft skin underneath his eyes.

Finally, he pulled his face away from yours and he looked down into your eyes with an intensity he’d not looked at you with before.

“I mean it. I will make you my queen and marry you underneath the willow behind the Little Palace. Surrounded and adored by Grisha. We will liberate our people and I will spend eternity by your side. My queen of the Moon, the love of my life.”

You nodded once, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips upwards.

“Eternity sounds nice.”

-

In the days following your heart to heart with your Darkling, Aleksander had a Durast make you a ring infused with his mother’s finger bones. Your very own amplifier. He’d slid the dainty gold ring onto your little finger, too, murmuring the entire time about how he’d get you a prettier ring one day and how this one was just a reminder of his promise to marry you. And then he held up his own hand to show you his own little gold ring, sitting upon his little finger as well.

It was a pretty ring. Really. It was gold and made to look like a willow branch, fashioned after the tree he vowed to marry you underneath. He always was one for symbolism.

You sat and admired the metal on your finger while sitting atop the desk in yours and Aleksander’s shared bedroom. Most of the other Grisha that were usually around were out on a mission, and Aleksander was hiding out somewhere, using the tether to provoke Alina, as he so often did. The sound of metal clattering startled you and you slowly climbed off of the desk and walked to your door. You pushed it open and looked around the hallway. No one was there, and no one should have been there to make something fall, that was for certain. You stepped out of your bedroom and eyed the halls once more suspiciously before you shook your head.

“Hello?” You called out, expecting exactly what you got in return, which was silence. You stepped out further into the hall and you began to slowly walk towards the makeshift laboratory to find Vladim, who had likely stayed behind, not one for the organized attack on the Lantsovs. The sudden sound of glass smashing and things clattering to the floor made you freeze in the middle of the hall and you raised your hands up, the unforgivingly cold light of the moon beginning to light up your hands. The strong electric feeling that came along with your new amplifier travelled up your spine and out towards your fingers, sending a bright surge of light up through them.

Out from around the corner, Baghra and Genya walked towards you in tandem. Baghra looked complacent while on the other hand, Genya looked furious. You hadn’t directly looked at Genya since she’d been maimed by the nichevo'ya, and now that you were looking directly at her, you felt a small bit of pity fill your head.

“Stop right there!” You called at the two of them.

Baghra did. Genya did not. Instead, the Tailor marched towards you and you raised your hand up higher as if you were loading an arrow with one hand.

“Genya, I do not want to use my power on you. Stop where you are, now.” You commanded, standing your ground.

She did not reply, and she did not stop, either, until she was nearly three feet away from you.

“Look at me,” She seethed and pointed at her face, “Look at me and know this is your doing. I never thought you’d lose your compassion. Your kindness. But every single day that passes, you become more and more like your Darkling.” She growled and you shook your head.

“You are a fool, Genya Safin.” You breathed and then lowered your hand just a bit, “You are the only one to blame for your misfortune. And when we find David, you’ll be the only one to blame for his misfortunes, too.” You chided and watched a look of worry cross her face.

“You’ve lost your heart.” She said harshly and then jabbed you in the chest with her finger, “You have allowed The Darkling to rip it from your chest and blacken it. We grew up together, Y/n! We served the Queen together! How could you have just turned your back on me? I needed you!” She shouted and you lowered both of your hands entirely.

“My heart is as bountiful as it needs to be. Blackened or not. You betrayed and abandoned the Darkling, therefore you have betrayed and abandoned me.” You said flatly, gazing at her with the same look you’d give a non-compliant child.

“You love a made up man. He will never love you back. He is using you. The same way he used Alina, you’re just too arrogant to believe that you’re being played with. You are but a piece in his infinite game of power.”

She wanted you to doubt him. But you knew better. You saw sides of him that no one else got to, that no one else needed to.

“Don’t make me maim you further, Genya. You might have to find a strength greater than your beauty if you keep pushing me.” You said coldly.

This had her eyes blazing angrily and she reached for you, grabbing onto the lapels of your kefta.

You brought your hand up to shoot a beam of moonlight through her chest, but you were stopped, something cold and clammy tugging your wrist backwards. You looked up to see a thick tendril of shadow around your wrist and you looked at Baghra who now had her own hands raised. You furrowed your brow angrily as you watched the old woman and you went to raise your other hand, and in the struggle you didn’t even see Genya reach up to grab the side of your head until you felt her fingers in your hair. She swung your head near the wall and you pushed back with all your might, but she kept trying to make contact between your head and the wall. You growled in frustration and tried to fight her off with your free hand, but another shadow wrapped itself around your free wrist, and before you could even protest, your head was being slammed ferociously into the wall, and blackness consumed your vision.

-

You weren’t sure how long you had been unconscious, and furthermore, you weren’t even sure of where you were, because when you woke up, you were behind iron bars on a gravel floor. The room around you was dim, and it looked like it had been carved out from a cave. You went to touch the side of your head that throbbed painfully, only to find that your hands were bound and separated by a beam of wood. You let out a frustrated groan and you slammed the wood between your hands against the bars, but it hardly even dented.

“There is absolutely no point in trying, girl. You are getting a taste of what it’s like to be a prisoner.”

You groaned again and lifted your head to see Baghra walk shakily into the space beyond the bars in front of you.

“Mm, abduction is your thing now?” You asked sardonically as you looked up at the scraggly haired woman. A sharp pain shot through the side of your head where you’d been hit and you winced slightly, your vision blurring just temporarily.

“I wasn’t fond of the idea but sometimes we have to do things we aren’t fond of in the name of what’s right.” She answered with a shrug and she sat down on a stool about six feet away from you, and you loathed how there were bars in your way of tackling the woman to the ground.

“So your grand idea is keeping me locked up? And then what? I’m not the threat you think I am.”

“No, not a threat. More like… bait. But I wouldn’t expect you to recognize when you’re being used. You haven’t thus far, why start now?” Baghra droned and your lips twitched angrily.

“Your plan is listless. Aleksander will tear you and anyone else apart to ensure my safe return.”

“You overestimate your importance to my son.”

“On the contrary. I think I underestimate it at times.”

The two of you were locked in an intense stare for a long time before she finally waved her hand dismissively.

“Well, only time can tell.” She conceded and slowly stood up. She didn’t say another word as she exited the room, and you didn’t care to speak either, so instead you watched as she left, sneering in her wake.

You were unsure of how long you sat in silence in that dim little room, but it surely had been a few hours before you heard gravel crunching underneath a pair of footsteps. You looked up spitefully to see Alina standing across the room with a deep frown on her lips, and at her side was unmistakably her little orphan friend, Mal. You eyed the two of them contemptuously and said nothing as Alina approached you. Instead of using the stool Baghra sat upon, the girl knelt in front of the bars and she placed her hands against them, a sadness pooling within her eyes.

“I remember when you saved my life. I’ve always so admired you for that.” She said quietly, wrapping her fingers around the shabby iron bars between the two of you.

You didn’t say anything in return. Instead, you shifted your gaze to the wall adjacent to you and you shook your head once.

“Y/n, I know this is hard to hear, it was for me as well, but you are being used. You are being manipulated. You’re stronger than this, look at you. You harness the power of the moon. Our powers are supposed to work in tandem. We are supposed to work in tandem. Please don’t let your potential be reduced to just another thing Kirigan desecrates and throws aside.” Alina whispered and reached through the bars to touch your arm.

You shied away from her fingers and you looked up at her, staring her down as if she were as maimed as Genya.

“It’s okay to be scared. But I really need you to trust me.” She added and pulled her arm back to her side.

“How long have I been here?” You asked her, looking down at your sore wrists. Surely they were raw by now.

“Almost a week. We had to keep you unconscious until we were sure you were securely… locked up.” She said with a frown.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, laying your bound hands out across your thighs.

“This is ridiculous. You are begging for a death sentence.” You mumbled.

“Right. And so are you and The Darkling. Trust me when I say, we will deliver.” Mal snapped, and it was the first time you’d heard him speak. You eyed the tall, dark haired boy and your lips curled upwards into a little smirk.

“Try, otkazat'sya.” You challenged and you watched Mal’s face darken as he took a step forward.

“She’s hopeless, Alina. He’s fried her head. Whatever friend you knew now belongs to Kirigan. Just do as the old woman says and get her out so we can get going. She won’t help us willingly so she can follow us as our leverage.” Mal remarked stuffily and he crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes raking over you in disdain.

“And just where do you think I’ll be following you?” You asked rigidly, looking to Alina this time.

She hesitated in answering, her eyes shifting down to the gravel floor. You could tell she didn’t want to be in this mess, and neither did you. However, you’d be more inclined to be kind to her if her main objective wasn’t to kill your lover.

“We are going to find Morozova’s workshop, and you are coming with us. We hoped as an ally, but Baghra warned us that you might not be so interested in being an ally.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll have to politely decline. I will not be going with you.” You drawled and dug your heels into the gravel beneath your feet.

“You don’t really get a say in the matter.” Mal snapped and you looked up at him through narrowed eyes.

“You sure talk bravely for someone so mortal.” You replied and he took another step forward and raised his thick brows.

“And you sure act like you’re important enough for Kirigan to smite me over so perhaps we are both wrong.” he replied and you watched as Alina reached up and placed a hand on his leg to silence him.

She gave him a sad look and then shook her head a few times.

“Mal.” She warned and then nodded back at you, “She’s not the enemy.”

But you were… weren’t you?

It was probably best for them to keep believing you weren’t, though. Keep yourself unassuming and secure feeling.

You glanced down at your hand and almost let out a breath of relief when you saw your ring still sitting around your finger. The only explanation you had was that they didn’t know it was your amplifier, and if that was the case, you had to keep it that way.

To keep yourself unassuming, indeed.

-

The next few days were uneventful. You had spent most of your time on a horse, your hands still held apart. Your entire body was stiff and at the end of the day when you were allowed off of the horse, walking was a daunting task all on its own.

Hardly anyone said anything important around you, and the journey was quiet and awkward. However, the night before last- the first night of your journey- you had heard Alina speaking to Mal and Baghra when they believed you to be asleep. It wasn’t of much importance, but she did say that Aleksander had been the most unstable she’d ever seen him the last time she reached out to him through the tether. Baghra had assured her that they were not going to be stopped by him, but Alina seemed on edge and quietly tried to suggest leaving you behind to find your way back to him.

That was the night you had started trying to create your own tether with Aleksander. It’s mostly all you had put your energy into for the last few days, desperate to hear his voice at the very least. You weren’t afraid that anyone was going to hurt you. Alina wouldn’t in spite of her big heart, Baghra wouldn’t because you knew deep down she knew you cared fiercely for her son, and Mal… you weren’t sure about. But he didn’t scare you. If anything, he just vexed you beyond all reason.

The two others led their horses on foot while Mal was pulling the one you were on. He hadn’t so much as looked at you once that day. Bitter little orphan.

“You know, if you spent even half as much time smiling as you did brooding and being a grump, you might actually start to have the inkling of a personality.” You remarked down at the boy. At first you thought he was going to ignore you some more, but you watched in surprise as he shook his head.

“I’ll take brooding and grumpy over being The Darkling’s zealot, time and time again.” He replied, not looking over his shoulder at you once.

You rolled your eyes and wished you could kick him in the back, and you willed him to come a little closer to the horse so that you could. But he never did, much to your disappointment.

“I believe my feelings for him to be no different than your own for Alina. I mean, we’re both putting our trust and loyalty into something otherworldly. The only difference is, this side of the world has never scared me as it has you.” You remarked, feeling a sense of accomplishment when you watched his fist tighten on the reins.

He said nothing for a while, the only sound now was Baghra and Alina chatting ahead and the sound of twigs and gravel crunching underneath your horse’s hooves. You didn’t expect him to speak again, so you closed your eyes and prepared yourself to connect with Aleksander once again.

Mal’s voice stopped you.

“At the risk of feeding into your delusion, I believe that we are entirely different. Look, I know you aren’t a bad person. His crimes aren’t on your hands, Alina tells me of your kindness when she came to the palace. How could you have betrayed her after saving her life?”

“I didn’t betray Alina. I simply chose my side, just as she chose hers. That doesn’t… I don’t have to justify myself to you, boy. You know as well as I do that when you care deeply for someone, a lot of things such as reason or morality tend to fade into grey little lines that are easily blurred.” You remarked.

This time he really didn’t answer. And you were fine with that.

You closed your eyes again and went back into your mind, doing everything you could to find a way to Aleksander. You almost groaned with frustration nearly half an hour later when nothing had happened.

You both had Baghra’s bones as an amplifier. You both wore the same thin gold rings on your littlest fingers. Surely that had to be enough.

It didn’t seem as if it was, though.

You wanted to reach for your ring, but the bar between your hands stopped you and you frowned and clenched your fists tightly, balling them up against your thighs. You took a deep breath and decided to try again.

You closed your eyes slowly and focused on the band around your pinky finger. You focused on how it was cold, how the patterns on it pressed against the side of your ring finger. You felt a small buzz at the very back of your mind and you grit your teeth and chased it, breathing heavily. You focused on him. The thought of him, the feeling of his hand against yours, the sound of his voice, and the starless black glittering of his eyes. The blankness behind your eyes began to shift into something blurry and misshapen. It focused and refocused hundreds of times before the picture in your mind became the blurry from your shared bedroom.

Your stomach filled with warm anticipation and you took a long, deep breath and willed yourself into the room. The second you moved forward into the room, it was as if everything around you changed. You could no longer feel your sore body nor could you feel the horse beneath you. The air felt warm and soothing against your cheeks, and it was a different feeling than the chilly air that had been biting at your face for the past few days. Your steps were soundless as you moved further into the room and your eyes fell on Aleksander as he stood by his window. His hands were gripping the windowsill so tightly that the skin over his knuckles was pulled taut and colored white. His hands shook underneath the intense pressure of which he held the windowsill with and you didn’t have to see his face to know his jaw was clenched.

You spoke his name, but the sound seemed to get lost, because you didn’t hear it, and he didn’t seem to either. You felt a twinge of disappointment and you took a long breath and refocused completely on him, speaking his name again.

This time, you could hear it. It sounded like a faint, distorted echo. One that he still couldn’t seem to hear.

You clenched your fists as tightly as you could and you focused on the ring on your finger, on the man in front of you, on the very emotional connection you two shared, and you finally spoke his name one more time.

Your voice was fully audible to your own ears now, and you had definitely gotten his attention, because he spun around from the window and his eyes fixed themselves on you. There was a vast collection of emotions that flickered through his eyes, ranging from surprise, to relief, worry, anger, and then finally something else that you couldn’t name at first but you eventually came to recognize it as guilt and sadness.

“Y/n.” He breathed and strode towards you determinedly. He reached out to pull you towards him, but his hand only went right through you.

It took him just a moment to recover from the confused look that painted itself over his face, but when he did, his eyes flooded with realization.

“You aren’t here. Not really.” He whispered sadly, his big, dark eyes glossing over with a layer of unshed tears.

“No. But I’ve been trying to reach out to you this way for days, and I haven’t been able to. This is the first time it’s worked!” You exclaimed excitedly and then you smiled up at him.

He did his best to give you a proud smile, but you could see there was a heavy sorrow lingering in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re such an intelligent girl. So gifted.” He said softly.

You wanted to touch him. You wanted him to take you in his arms. You missed him.

“Aleksander, I don’t like being away from you.” You whispered and you watched him shatter before you with those words.

He closed his eyes and reached up to rub them with the sides of his hands and he let out a slow sigh.

“My darling, where are you? I will find you and I will bring you home. I will kill anyone who stands in my way; anyone who tries to stop me.” His face was almost pained and you frowned.

“I don’t know where we are. I just know we have set out to find Morozova’s workshop.” You stated.

Exhaustion started to seep into your head and you were finding it hard to keep the connection going. You knew you were not as powerful as Alina and Aleksander, and this was taking almost all of the energy and power you had, and it didn’t help that you couldn’t even use your hands.

“We? Who is we? Who is with you?” He asked sharply and he leaned closer to you. His eyes studied your face and he frowned, “Angel, you look so tired. You need your rest, this must be taking so much out of you.” He whispered and you shook your head.

You struggled to piece your thoughts together so that you could answer him, but eventually you pushed through and were able to elaborate.

“We… Alina, Mal, Baghra.” You mumbled.

He gave you a little nod and then he frowned even more. He looked as if your struggle pained him.

And it did.

Seeing you this way pained him more than he cared to admit, and the week without you had been one of the hardest of his entire life. It was as if he could feel every single second passing. All he could do is hope that his Grisha would find you, hope that you were safe, and then fantasize about how he would enact painful revenge on anyone who dared lay their hands on you. He would have his revenge on those who took you away from him.

“Darling, stop trying to keep the connection going. You’ve done so much already, and I am so proud of you. Seeing that you are unharmed is the greatest relief to me at this moment. Rest now, don’t exhaust yourself. I will find you, everything is going to be alright. Do you trust me?” He asked softly and gazed down upon your face.

You gave him a nod and he gave you a watery smile in return.

“Sweet little girl, you have made me so proud today. I love you. Know that I will find you. I swear it.” He vowed in a whisper and you looked into his eyes one last time before you felt the connection slip.

It was like a rope, pulled in two different directions being cut in the middle. Your eyes snapped open instantly and you gasped, nearly falling off of the horse. You steadied yourself quickly and you had to readjust to the brightness of the outdoors. You blinked a few times and looked around to see that you had stopped moving, and Mal was staring up at you, along with Baghra and Alina.

Alina looked a bit paler and she turned to Baghra with a worried expression.

“I knew this was not a good idea, Baghra. I-“

Baghra cut her off with a wave of her hand and she eyed you contemptuously, her beady eyes fixing themselves on you in an accusatory way.

“You, too, can connect with my son it seems.”

You didn’t respond, instead you jutted your chin out as if you were an indignant child and you looked away from them, gazing off over to your left.

“Foolish girl. You think he’s going to save you? He won’t give himself up, even for you.” Baghra said haughtily and you shook your head once, not saying anything.

“Look, we need to get inside.” Mal stated and then looked up at you, “But she can’t come. If she’s able to speak with Kirigan then she can’t be anywhere near whatever is in there. Then whatever we find out, so does he.”

You snorted and looked back over at the three of them.

“What was the point in bringing me, then? This was easily a three person job. I think, Baghra, that deep down, you did expect Aleksander to come for me. You wanted to isolate him from his Grisha out in the middle of nowhere, then you would’ve had your chance to stop him. But now that he hasn’t come, you are flailing.” You theorized and then you shook your head with contempt.

No one said anything for a long time. You knew you were right. They knew you were right. No one wanted to speak. Baghra didn’t want to admit her idea had been a farce, Alina was anxious, and perhaps Mal just had nothing to say.

But as usual, the boy finally did find something to say.

“Get down.” He commanded and you held your hands up and shook them a few times.

“Can’t really dismount a horse on my own without my hands.” You said in a bored tone, and Mal scoffed in annoyance, but his irritation didn’t stop him from reaching up and grabbing your waist. He easily lifted you off of the horse, and instead of setting you on your feet, he gingerly dropped you before making sure you were steady.

You fell onto your knees in the fallen leaves and the dirt and you winced. You didn’t have even a moment to recover and stand before Mal grabbed you by your upper arms and dragged you to a tree next to a large rock. He pushed your side up against the tree and you yelped, the rough bark biting into your cheek.

“Give me the rope.” He instructed and Alina hesitated for a moment before she reluctantly untied one of the ropes from one of the horses and brought it over to Mal.

You looked up at the tall, lanky boy and you shook your head.

“Just let me go. You don’t need me, I don’t need any of you. Please.” You said exasperatedly and he gave you a hard look before he pushed you down onto your knees. Your knee collided with one of the tree’s protruding roots and you groaned quietly, leaning your head up against the side of the tree.

Mal looped the end of the rope up underneath one of your shackles and knotted it many times before he tied the other end around the slender tree. He gave the rope a hard tug and when it didn’t budge, he stepped back and looked down at you with disgust.

You mirrored his expression to a T and then sneered.

Your eyes wandered past him and you looked at what seemed to be large rock formation on the side of a hill, but upon closer examination, there was a door. It was much like the stone doors you’d find at a tomb, and there were branches and vines shrouding the entryway. Small stone steps led up to the door and your three delightful travel companions slowly turned away from you and walked towards the workshop.

You looked down at your raw wrists and you gave the rope a few sharp little tugs before you let out a grunt and leaned your back up against the tree. You needed Aleksander. You needed to speak to him again. If only you weren’t so damn exhausted.

Your entire body ached and you could hear Baghra speaking faintly behind you. You closed your eyes as tightly as you could and tried to muster enough energy to connect with your lover once again.

You couldn’t.

You opened your eyes after a while and realized that you couldn’t hear anyone any longer, and you turned to look over your shoulder to see that Mal, Alina, and Baghra had disappeared. Likely into the workshop. You scooted over in the dirt and leaves until you were up against the rock and you laid your arms down on top of it and laid your head against your arms as if you were laying your head upon a desk. You stretched your hand out a bit and then felt something sharp catch your palm.

“Ouch!” You hissed and sat up. You glanced down at a rather sharp edge on the rock and then looked down at your now bleeding palm that had been sliced open. You slowly turned your head back towards the sharp, serrated edge of the rock and then you glanced at your shackles. You quickly rose up on your knees and leaned over the side of the rock and brought the middle of the wooden beam down on the sharp edge of the rock. You pushed down against it with all of your might and began to drag it back and forth rapidly, trying to saw through the wood. After a few grueling moments of this, you stopped and let out a little whimper.

Your wrists were raw and sore against their metal shackles and your arms ached terribly. But you had made some progress. The rock had indeed began to cut into the wood and there was a small split in the wooden beam, about one quarter of an inch deep. Staring at the split in the wood filled you with determination and you brought the beam back down on the edge of the rock and continued to drag it back and forth as hard and as fast as you could. Your wrists protested with every movement, but you didn’t stop.

You had almost gotten past cutting halfway through the beam when the scraping of stone stopped you. You quickly scrambled back down on the ground as if you were sitting there the entire time and you stayed still and silent. After a moment, you turned to see Mal and Baghra standing in front of the workshop. Baghra passed Mal a blade and you tried to make out what they were saying but couldn’t hear anything more than their faint vocal tones. You watched as Baghra cut Mal on his hand and he slowly turned and pressed his hand against the stone door, which slid shut. Mal jumped back, startled, and he slowly stepped away from Baghra and the door, looking frantic.

You turned your attention away from the two of them and instead looked back at the wooden beam that held your hands apart. You pursed your lips and you put the beam over your knee and tried to snap it, pulling your wrists down as hard as you could before you let out a shriek and stopped immediately, your wrists now bleeding from all of the friction against your raw skin.

You heard Alina cry out from inside the workshop and you turned to watch Mal dash inside. Baghra didn’t follow. Instead she came towards you hurriedly. She used the blade in her hands to cut the rope off of the tree and she grabbed your arm.

“Come with me, girl.” She said flatly and pulled you to your feet.

You complied silently and glanced at the severance in the wooden beam. All you had to do was wait for the right moment. You followed Baghra inside of the workshop and the two of you joined Mal in the doorway to one of the rooms.

Mal went to run for Alina, but with the hand she didn’t have on you, Baghra grabbed onto Mal with and she shook her head.

“Don’t break the connection!” She commanded.

“You said she’s not strong enough to face him!” Mal protested.

You looked past Mal to see Alina surrounded by an electric blue light and you widened your eyes. Aleksander was here.

“Exactly.” Baghra said to Mal calmly and stepped in front of him, leaving you behind.

You eyed Baghra warily as she grabbed a torch off of the wall and walked towards Alina, who was struggling against the wall, held there by the telepathic presence of Aleksander.

“I will end this once and for all. Once I’ve killed my son, my time here is done.” Baghra said sternly and tossed the torch into a bin of scrolls, “All this goes with me.” She finished and you let out a wail.

“You’re heartless!” You cried out, realizing what she was about to attempt to do, “He is your son, Baghra!” You screamed and tried to run at her, but Mal stopped you and pushed you down to the floor, where you landed in a graceless heap of limbs.

“You know what you have to do. And close the door on your way out.” Baghra said to Mal as the room began to go up in flames, “And leave the Moon Summoner here with me.”

Baghra approached Alina and you slowly sat up and turned to the shackles on your wrists. You had to break out of them, there was no question about it now. You began to slam the split in the wood against the rock walls and you let out a scream that was born of pain and determination.

Alina dashed past you, and you assumed Baghra had freed her from Aleksander, and Mal was now dragging her out of the workshop, trying to convince her to leave Baghra behind. The old woman now stood at the far side of the room in a trance, her head tipped upwards in focus.

“The Firebird!” Alina said in a panic and jumped towards the burning table.

“I know where the Firebird is!” Mal shouted, “We have to go!” He said and yanked her towards the door.

“No! Y/n, Mal we can’t leave her!” She cried and you looked up at Alina who was standing a few yards away from you, trying to break free of Mal’s grasp.

“Alina, cut your losses. She is not your friend, we need to go!”

You eyed her sadly and you let out a little sniffle, looking up at her. The room grew hotter as the flames grew closer to you and you shook your head once, looking down at the floor.

“Mal, she’s innocent, please!”

But her begging was futile, because Mal only gave you one last look, a cocky little sneer, and then yanked Alina from the workshop.

You heard the scraping of stone and knew that the door had been closed.

You cried out in frustration, tears pooling in your eyes and you banged the wooden beam against the wall, even harder now. You didn’t realize you were screaming until your throat felt hoarse and you coughed, smoke filling your lungs.

This couldn’t be how you died. You refused. But your body had different plans. Exhaustion washed over you, trying to pull you into its sea. You were so tired. Everything hurt. You were almost tempted to lay down and let the warm flames consume you until you remembered Baghra. She was aiming to kill Aleksander.

With one final burst of determined energy, you slammed the beam down on the jagged edge of the wall a few more times before you heard a snap. You looked down at your hands to find them separated. Still shackled, but separated.

Quickly, you scrambled upwards with a burst of adrenaline just in time to see Baghra collapse. She turned her head slowly and her eyes met yours, blood dribbling from the corner of her lips.

“Stupid girl. Though it will never be enough, thank you for loving my stupid boy.” She murmured, and you could hardly hear her over the roar of the fire.

You looked down at her in disgust and you shook your head.

“One of us had to.” You spat and then you brought your right hand up to your lips. You placed a little kiss on the gold ring upon your little finger and then you let out an ear shattering yell, bringing your hands together in a sharp clap that resonated even louder than the fire.

Silver light flooded the entire workshop and turned each flame into a blazing beam of the moon. You held your hands together and squinted to see, but within seconds, there was nothing but bright, bright light and then an earth shaking crash.

You fell to your knees dizzily, unsure of what just happened and your eyes rolled backwards into your head as you slumped sideways and finally let your exhaustion drag you away from the present.

-

There was a loud ringing in your ears, and you could feel a cool breeze dusting across your cheeks. Your throat was dry and your tongue was like sandpaper against the top of your mouth. You willed yourself to open your eyes and you stared straight up at the grey sky above you.

Your body was sore everywhere, but you couldn’t ignore the tingling, electric sensation that coursed through your veins. You weakly pushed yourself up and felt rubble tumble off of your chest as you did. The workshop laid in ruins around you and there were still little traces of silvery light, fizzling out slowly like smothered flames. You took in the ruin around you and you blinked a few times.

You did this. You had destroyed this entire cavelike workshop. You would’ve been a bit more giddy if you weren’t covered in bleeding cuts and sensitive bruises. A strange sense of pride swelled in your chest and you very slowly hoisted yourself up with a grunt, grabbing onto a fragment that remained of the wall to steady yourself. You looked around the mess slowly and your eyes settled on a hand that protruded out from underneath a pile of stone.

Baghra.

You stared down at her for a long time and then finally you tore your eyes away from her rock burial.

If she was dead, it could mean two things. Aleksander’s mother had killed him, or he had killed his mother.

With a grunt, you walked away from the ruins of the workshop and approached the nearest tree. You leaned heavily up against it and took a few long, deep breaths before you closed your eyes and reached up awkwardly to hold onto your ring with your opposite hand.

It was much easier this time to establish a connection with Aleksander, you simply pictured him in your mind and let your power do the rest. When you opened your eyes, you stood behind him in what appeared to be a tent. He was hunched over on his knees and seemed to be in pain, but you couldn’t deny the relief you felt to know that he was alive.

“Aleksander.” You breathed.

You knew he had heard you by the way his head perked up a bit, but he didn’t turn towards you.

“Sweet Moon Saint. Are you really there or have you come back through my head?” He asked in a low, ragged tone.

“I’m not there. Not yet. I just had to know if you were alive.” You said quietly and watched as his shoulders rolled back a bit. He never did turn around, though.

“Mm, alive, yes. I was very worried about you. My mother told me you were going to die for my sins. It seems ironic to me that now she’s the only one that’s perished for them.” He said in a deadpan.

“My love, where can I find you?” You asked softly and he let out a sigh.

“You sound terrible. You sound tired. You sound hoarse. What have they done to you?” He asked, hanging his head.

“I am fine, Aleksander. Please, I need to come to you. Tell me where you are.” You pleaded and he very slowly turned his head toward you.

“Keramzin. You’ll find my encampment. Please, please my love, do not leave me alone on this earth. Fight tooth and nail if you must, but return to me. You must return to me.”

“I will.” You promised.

Always.

-

The journey to Keramzin had been a brief one, and you were thankful for that. You weren’t sure how your body hadn’t given out, but after hobbling through the mountains for nearly a day, you came across a little farm and stole a horse from its stables.

After that, it was a straight shot. You made it to Keramzin in only six days and it was easy to locate Aleksander’s camp. You slowly rode up on your horse towards the camp, and two large Heartrenders ran towards you to stop you before recognition crossed their faces. They both bowed their heads to you and whispered your name.

Sankta Y/n.

Your hair was in tangles and your face was polluted with dried blood and dirt and your kefta and dress were torn and caked with mud. You looked terrible.

But you also looked formidable.

Perched high upon your horse, broken shackles still around your wrists, wounded, but sitting straight with your shoulders squared nonetheless.

“Take me to The General.” You commanded and slid off of the horse, landing on your feet, a painful shock going through your entire body as you hit the ground.

You followed the two Heartrenders through the field and around a handful of tents before you saw him. His back was turned to you and he stood at the precipice of a dead little meadow, and across from this meadow was a shabby home. Likely an orphanage or an inn, you reasoned. Fruzsi stood a few paces behind him, and as you approached, she turned around and let out a gasp. Your eyes met hers and she bowed her head immediately.

“You’ve returned.” She said softly, relief evident in her tone.

“I always will.” You said gauntly and then stepped past her.

You continued on towards Aleksander, and when you reached him, you slid your hands around his arm and fastened yourself to his side before you completely leaned against him, your legs giving out.

He didn’t even need to look at you, he recognized your touch the second you grabbed his arm. He turned towards you and in one swift movement, hooked an arm underneath your knees and lifted you off of the ground and into his arms.

Silently, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tucked your face in the spot between his shoulder and his throat, breathing in his scent. He wordlessly tightened his grip on you and he buried his face in your hair. The two of you stayed like that for a very long time, silent. The only sounds between the two of you were sighs, sharp inhales, and exhales.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Aleksander moved his face away from your hair and he gazed down at you as you laid in his arms, weary.

“I love you.” He whispered, dipping his head down so that he was close to your face.

You turned your head so that you could look up at him properly and you leaned up to nudge your nose against his.

“Aleksander.” You whimpered and he nodded once.

“I know. Never again. You will never be away from my side again.” He promised and you gave him a little nod, your eyelids growing heavy.

He watched as you fought to stay awake in his arms and he turned towards the crowd of his Grisha. He glanced at Fruzsi and then he jerked his head towards his tent, “Draw the Moon Summoner a bath immediately. Have an Inferni heat it. Get me a Durast so we can get these dreadful things off of her wrists. Waste no time, she is in pain.” He ordered and Fruzsi ran off in a frenzy.

Within only half an hour, you already had a Durast remove the shackles from your wrists safely and you now sat in a deep metal bathtub, filled with hot water. Aleksander knelt by the side of the tub and kept his eyes on you the entire time you laid in the water. You looked over at him and he reached up towards you slowly to tuck a piece of damp hair behind your ear.

“Aleksander, what did your mother do? When she claimed she was going to kill you.” You asked quietly.

He sucked in a deep breath for a long time before he blew it out and then he gave you a very small, very sad smile.

“She told me she was going to burn you alive, then she… permanently severed the connection between Alina and I.” He answered and then held up his right hand.

It was deep grey and glinted metallically in the low light of his tent. You stared at it for a moment before you looked up at him, a little frown tugging your lips downwards.

“I should have stopped her, Aleksander, I’m so sorry-“

“Do not. No. You will not apologize. You couldn’t have done anything. Judging from your state now and even when you called on me the second time, you were in no condition to stop her. I am simply grateful that you are alive and you have returned to me.” He explained in a soft voice and you reached out of the tub to gently take his new hand in your own.

You intertwined your fingers with his and you closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the edge of the metal tub. He allowed you to hold his hand for only a few minutes before he pulled away from you and stood up. You opened your eyes and looked up at him as he shed his kefta and a few other layers until he was only in his base shirt, a loose fitting black shirt made of silk. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and he knelt back down next to you and he held his hand out to you and nodded towards it.

“Hand me the cloth, my dear.” He instructed softly and you reached down into the water to search for the cloth that had been in the tub with you. You found it a moment later and then brought it out of the water, wringing the excess water out of it, and you dropped it in his hand.

He made a pleased humming sound and he grabbed your arm and lifted it up towards him. With a touch as soft and light as the silk of his shirt, he began to clean your skin with the cloth.

You watched his scarred face as he bathed you, and the sight broke your heart in the best way. He looked so serene and so peaceful, making his features softer and you swore you had caught a glimpse of boyish innocence in the sincerity on his face. The world had been so cruel to him for five centuries, and despite it all, he’d allowed himself to love you; allowed you to love him.

Your eyes glittered with tears and they began to fall freely down your cheeks while you watched him wash your arms and your legs, being especially tender with the places that had little bruises or scrapes. His touches were usually selfish, driven by his own need to have you close to him, but as he touched you now, there was nothing but selflessness behind his actions. When he moved up with the intent to clean your face, your tears made his face fall as he shook his head.

“As beautifully as you cry, I have half a mind to let you continue, however, the sight breaks my heart. What pains you?” He asked softly and reached up with the cloth to very carefully wipe at your face.

“It is not pain. You are my greatest accomplishment.” You whispered and leaned into his hand as he wiped your cheek, “You are the best thing that I will have ever known in this life.” You added, your lips trembling as you forced them up into a smile.

He stilled his movement and he looked down into your eyes and simply shook his head before he went back to washing you. Once he had finished cleaning you up and washing your hair, he stood up and rolled his sleeves back down. He pulled all of his shed clothes back on, along with his kefta and he grabbed a large, thick towel off of the table he stood near. He came back to the tub and held it open, looking down at you.

“Can you stand, darling?” He asked softly and you nodded. You grabbed the edges of the tub and very slowly pulled yourself up.

Before you could even step out of the tub, Aleksander wrapped the towel around your upper body and lifted you out of the water. Your bare legs broke out in goosebumps and you held onto his shoulders as he carried you to his bed. Once he sat you down, he readjusted the towel around your body and he knelt in front of you.

“You claim I am your greatest accomplishment. The best thing you’ll know. But you are mine. My greatest accomplishment, the best thing I’ll ever know. My peace. My sweet peace in the middle of the turmoil and chaos that is my long life. You are the truest kindness I’ve ever been shown, and whatever sent you to me knows I don’t deserve you, but Saints, I will try everyday.” He murmured and laid his head down against your thighs as he knelt before you.

You reached up and threaded your fingers through his hair and stroked it gently.

You looked down at him as he laid on your thighs and your chest ached with adoration for the man that was before you. No one else mattered anymore, how could they?

Alina had told you that you and her were meant to operate in tandem, but the sunlight is no place for the moon, and moonlight has no business with the sun.

No, you and the Sun Summoner had no business working alongside one another, because Aleksander had been right when he said that the moon needs the darkness to shine.

Moonlight needs shadows.

-

In all your life, you’d never imagined your death.

You’d never felt as if you’d die.

But you probably wouldn’t ever have imagined it would happen this way.

You stood by Aleksander’s side in the middle of The Fold. Alina and Mal had created a bubble around them, keeping the volcra out. Keeping the darkness out. Your hand was tightly closed around Aleksander’s and you held a bright beam of moonlight in your other hand, eyes fixed on Mal and Alina.

It all had happened so fast.

One moment Aleksander was pulling you against his side and Mal was shooting at the creatures of darkness that threatened to come in and wreak havoc inside the little bubble of light. The next moment, you were making eye contact with Mal. His face twisted in a feral anger, and he spun his gun towards you and shot it just as Aleksander dropped your hand to summon his Cut.

You didn’t even realize you’d been shot until warmth began to spread over your chest. You looked down to see the silver embroidery on your black kefta turning red with your blood, and that’s when you felt the pain. A hot, sharp ache bloomed through your chest and you fell backwards, head thumping against the sand. You’d been shot in the place between both of your collarbones, between the tiniest opening in your bulletproof kefta.

How capricious this universe can be, you thought.

Everything around you seemed like it was happening underwater, and you felt something shift next to you. You very slowly turned your head to see Aleksander on the ground next to you, clutching his side. He had been wounded, too. By what? You weren’t sure.

You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing- if you could even call it that. Every breath you took felt shorter and shorter and you were losing awareness rapidly.

It took you a moment to register that your name was being screamed and you opened your eyes to see a blurry Aleksander knelt over you. Light of pink and blue was swirling around everywhere and he pulled you up into his arms as if you were a child and he cradled you against his chest as he rose to his feet. The world became brighter and brighter around you until there was no trace of shadow.

The Fold had fallen.

You weakly grabbed at Aleksander’s kefta as he held you and your eyes grew hot and burned with fat tears.

“Aleksander,” you whispered weakly and let out a pathetic, weak sounding sob, “Please do not let me die, I don’t want to die. Please, I don’t want to die.” You begged, and you watched his face contort painfully.

He ground his teeth together as he looked down at you and his own tears threatened to fall.

“You are not going to die, do you hear me? Everything will be alright. You’ll still be my queen, wed under the willow at midnight. Remember?”

You did remember and you wanted to tell him you remembered but your mouth didn’t seem to want to form the words and your head didn’t move when you willed yourself to nod.

He let out a broken choking noise and he shook his head rigorously.

“Don’t you dare. Do not leave me alone on this earth. Y/n! Don’t do it!” He called and sunk to his knees.

Your head weakly rolled backwards and he grabbed your jaw gently, forcing you to look up at him.

“Please. Do not go this way, my love. It is not your time to go.” He whimpered and you shakily reached up and laid your hand on top of his as he held your jaw.

“You… are my greatest accomplishment. The best thing that I have ever known in this life.” You mumbled and gave him a weak smile.

“Your life is not over!” He protested and then he pulled your head up to his, resting his forehead against yours, “You are too young, my love. You are meant to live centuries at my side. Please, I know you’re strong, I need you to…” he trailed off and stared down at you as you cried. He wanted to beg you to fight, but the look on your face stopped him.

Your face was full of fear and you were shaking in his arms.

He knew you weren’t going to survive, and filling you with that false hope was not fair. Was he even going to survive? Likely not. He was a selfish person, but he couldn’t be selfish with you. Letting you die in fear because he begged you to hold on wasn’t fair. He couldn’t be selfish now. Not while you slipped away in his arms. His chest ached in a way he never wished to feel again, and hopefully he wouldn’t have to. He placed one kiss against your lips and bumped the tip of his nose against yours.

“It’s okay, my beautiful moonbeam. You can let go. Close your eyes, angel. Close your eyes and let go, it’s okay. I won’t let go of you.” He whispered, his own tears falling onto your cheeks.

“I love you. I’m so proud of you.” You breathed, your hand weakly falling away from his.

“And I love you, little love. Rest now. No one can ever hurt you again. It’s okay to just rest.” He said, barely above a whisper. Your tears and his mixed together on your face and you closed your eyes slowly.

With the last bit of strength you had in your body, you moved up just slightly and pressed your lips against his, and you did your best to muffle the sob that came from his mouth with your own.

A bittersweet smile crossed your lips as you moved away from his lips and you laid your head comfortably against his arm.

“My love, my life.” You murmured and he took a sharp intake of air to prevent himself from crying more.

He knelt there on the sanded ground with you until he watched you draw your last breath and he leaned down to kiss your forehead, painfully aware of all of the eyes on his back.

“My love, my life.” He repeated against your skin.

He very carefully laid your body out over the sand and rose to his feet, turning to stare at Alina blankly. He looked over at Mal as he laid unmoving and Aleksander held his hand over his wound as he stood straight up.

“Now… you know sacrifice.” He breathed and watched Alina carefully.

Alina eyed him and then glanced at your lifeless body on the ground.

“I believe you do, too.” She spoke in a firm tone, “And look what said sacrifice did.”

“Indeed.” Aleksander replied blankly, willing himself to keep his eyes off of you, “Look what it did.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she nodded once at him.

“Mal and I changed the world.” She said tearfully, a little smile on her face, “We tore down your Shadow Fold.”

“You have my sympathies for what comes next. When you realize that what you’ve done solves nothing. The world doesn’t need a Saint to protect it-“

“But you needed one. You just had to have a Saint. And look where it got her. Perhaps the world doesn’t need a Saint, but look what you have done to yours.” Alina shouted and pointed at you.

His eyes wandered towards you and he shook his head, holding his hand over the gash in his side caused by Alina’s Cut.

“Your Firebird did this. Not I.”

“No, she is dead because of the choices you made.” Alina stated, shaking her head just once.

“Choices you, too, will make in time.”

Alina jutted her chin up into the air and she balled her fists at her sides.

“I will never walk your path. And if you hadn’t carried her down it, she would never have walked yours either.”

“I know you believe that now-“ Aleksander stepped forward and let out a groan, holding his side with both hands, “But soon, you’ll have no equal. The years spent alone will grind you down, they will harden you. And who will be there to shield you from it? Who will be there to save you? I could have. Y/n could have.“

There was a long pause shared between the two of them, and Alina grasped his shoulder when Aleksander approached her unsteadily, still clasping his wound.

“I will save myself. Your legacy is already written. It always has been. No amount of love for or from a girl could save you from that truth. There is no redemption.” She gave his shoulder a hard shove and he fell to his knees in pain.

He let out a long, gasping growl, and one of his nichevo'ya poured out from his back, taking on a sinister form behind his kneeling body.

The creature grabbed Alina, by the throat and lifted her up and when Aleksander tried to stop it, the creature flung him backwards.

A blade came flying through the air and pierced the shadow form, sending it scattering into the air, and Alina fell from its grip. Aleksander pulled himself up off of the ground at the same time as Alina rose to her knees and he grunted.

He walked towards her and offered her his hand.

“You can’t control them, can you?” She asked shakily, “You can’t control any of it.”

“I thought I could control it all once.” He spoke and Alina eyed his outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake and he continued on, a tear rolling down his cheek, “Find peace. And for a moment…” his eyes fell shut and he tipped his face up towards the sky, “I swear I did.”

He inhaled shakily and his mind flickered to you. Every little moment with you seemed to rise to the forefront of his mind. The first night he held you and lulled you to sleep, the night of the winter fete when you promised to stand with him forever, the afternoon just mere weeks ago when you two had whispered your first and most meaningful “i love you”s. Tears were steadily falling down his cheeks now, slipping through his closed eyelids while your sweet voice filled his ears, calling his name, singing him praises. In his mind, you weren’t laying on the sand with a bullet in your chest. Instead you were laying underneath the moonlit, starry sky with him, in a world where forever meant forever.

Not here. Not in this cruel place where you had to be the atonement for all his wrongdoing; the price he paid for the sins he committed.

This world was no place for you. He swore you were his Saint but as he imagined felt your touch on his face there in the middle of what used to be his Fold, he began to wonder if really you were an embodiment of The Moon itself. Graceful and beautiful in all endeavors.

He could hear you calling for him and he leaned forward to meet your call, further, further…

Until he could lean further no more because a blade had pierced his abdomen.

He laid his hands on top of Alina’s as she held the sword in his stomach and he looked up into her eyes as black blood fell from his lips.

“Thank you.” He mouthed.

She gave him one nod and withdrew her blade, sending him falling backwards onto the sand next to you.

He heard you call for him again, and you were closer this time, and he was ready to answer your call.

Alina stood over him and he let out a little cough before he sucked in whatever breath he could to speak.

“Alina. You make sure there is nothing left of me. But her… please see to it that she is buried underneath the willow tree just behind the Little Palace. Please. She deserves that much. Make sure she’s remembered as a Saint.” He begged, giving the Sun Summoner a little nod.

She gave him one nod in return and pursed her lips.

“For her, Aleksander. Not for you.” She whispered and he gave her a weak smile before he looked past her, up at the sky above.

“I hear her.” He breathed. And it was true. Your voice rang in his ears, singing his name.

“Go to her.” Alina commanded quietly, her voice softening only slightly.

So he did.

[bittersweetcrusades]

Hi hello! do you have any alien stage fic recs??

i most definitely do!!!

I've only read ivantill until now (cus the brainrot is real) so that's what I'll share here but once I'm done scouring the mizisua tag, I'll definitely return!

links below the cut <3

from ashes by petitfives

vampire till and vampire ivan. ivan is deranged and till suffers per usual. rating: explicit

"This is the face of the dog who has killed so many of my fledglings,” Urak says, snapping Till out of his reverie. “Remember it. It might be the last thing you see.” Till has never liked Ivan more than he does right now. Good, he thinks, as viciously as he can. He doesn’t think his prayers carry any weight, but he stares hard at the saint wearing Ivan’s face and hopes Ivan puts a stake through Urak’s unbeating heart. Or, Till gets turned by a vampire, and Ivan is a vampire hunter.

the silhouette in my peripherals by Anonymous

till in the aftermath of r6. rating: explicit

Ivan is gone, but he is still there. Or: how to haunt a person.

till death do us part (so why are you before me again?) by Aminori

ivan and till reuniting in the afterlife. <3 rating: teen

When Ivan had held his beloved’s throat, felt the pulse of life as his own ended, he had expected to not see Till again. … He had expected Till to live on. Had selfishly wanted it, in fact. But here his beloved was, in his arms, in a place that they were never meant to be reunited in.

And he wasn’t quite sure what to feel, anymore.

(or: Ivan dies. He didn’t expect to see Till again, but he did.)

break a heart, stitch it right back by yamscooper

till being jealous. rating: teen

If Ivan wants to laugh and giggle and twirl his hair at some girl Till has never met before, that’s none of Till’s fucking business. “I don’t think Ivan’s hair is long enough to twirl,” Mizi says. “It’s a figure of speech,” Till bites out.

a certain ivantill fan's origin story by gustavo

somehow luka becomes the #1 ivantill fan. rating: teen

Over the course of his preparation for the much-anticipated Final Round of the hit dystopian drama, Alien Stage, Luka discovers that he might be a lot more invested in his best friend’s love life than he’d expected himself to be. or: the fic where luka somehow becomes an ivantill truther.

breathe again in the world anew by aerivel

more ivantill reunions after r7. rating: teen

Till and Ivan reunite one more time. - “I can’t say I’m not disappointed.” The sound of a deep, gentle voice cutting through the air startles Till enough to bang his head against the tree behind him. Wincing slightly, he sits up and jerks his head to the slowly approaching man in white. “I thought you would win after all,” the man continues, slowing until he stood a few feet away. The man’s attention is stolen by the fluttering of a crimson flower inches away from his foot. Absently, he shifts his shoe and crushes the petals beneath him. It’s enough to spark something within Till. Ivan. It’s Ivan.

your shadow on the wall of my room by ephemeroptera_insecta

ghost ivan haunts till. rating: teen

Till won Round 6. He had his first kiss. He’s one step closer to winning. He’s also, notably, now being haunted. Or : Ivan comes back as a ghost. Till realizes what Ivan has done for him, and the feelings he buried for him out of fear. They navigate life (and death) as a man and his ghost.

what we’re allowed to do to each other’s faces by fakekniferealketchup

ivan lives and till escapes. rating: teen

When Ivan had died, the lens through which Till saw the world had fractured, rearranged, and stuck that way, like a broken bone that wasn’t set. A bleeding kaleidoscope of the past. A dozen years of memories clamored for fresh attention, to be reexamined, to be cut open so they could show off all the terrible wriggling things that had wormed around inside them and eaten them hollow. He couldn’t think of the garden, anymore; only of how stupid he had been. — - — Ivan lives; Till escapes the arena. There's no elegance in their reunion, but there is spit, and blood, and something close to forgiveness.

[ashen-char]

I'm obsessed with the idea of ani joining in the conversations about partners and bringing reader up like "they never let me cook! which is sweet but i want to cook too!" or "they drool a lot when they sleep!" in a innocent way not thinking much about the fact the other girls are talking about their partners and she just started yapping about reader like they're together.

I just know the fact she always brings reader up in partner conversations makes them even more confused when ani drops the information she's married and it's NOT with reader, like they're happy for her but 'what does she mean she's not with reader??' Yes, they tease her and joke about it but they fr think there's something going on with those two.

reader likes to sit close to anora when she's playing, they're reading a book or doing something job/studies related, stuff like that. They just like being around her either they have her attention or not, they just feel this comfortable aura coming from anora whenever she's close, she's home. You'll giggle about her getting mad at villagers and then ani looks at you annoyed because 'you're suppose to be on my side!' and you're like 'sorry, got to a funny part on the book...' and you're reading the saddest and most tragic book ever.

I think later on reader introduces ani to one or two more violent games where she can kick people's asses! probably Mortal Kombat, she'll definitely play this type of games when a client/her boss pissed her off badly on that particular day and she needs to punch someone to calm down, even if it's on a video game it helps her a lot! But she likes more the cozy games like animal crossing, stardew valley, even the sims (her favourite is the sims 2 because of all the attention to detail the game has).

You once tried to make her play an horror game (resident evil, until dawn, silent hill, amnesia) and she tried it, she really did but after some time she was like 'nop! I'm done! put my animal crossing NOW!'

About ivan, like I said his parents are to blame for a big part of who he is today but he's 21 already and that's old enough to at least KNOW not to leave your wife alone when she's fighting for a future with you against 3 MEN DOUBLE HER SIZE! like if you care about her and her safety you either runaway with her or you stay there with her! That scene is what makes me think that anora cares about him but he doesn't care about her or at least not as much, you know?

YES! There's nothing wrong with wanting to have fun and be free, you don't have to be serious all the time like life's too short for that shit, but the fact he doesn't take anything serious, never thinks before doing a joke or just the way he treats people bellow him (maybe besides anora) lacks sense, maybe even empathy, like why yell as a joke at this staff member who's apologising already for not having the room ready because 1. THEY DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE COMING! and 2.BECAUSE IT WAS BEING USED!! it's a terrible joke, it can make that poor person lose their job if their superior happens to walk by, it lacks touch with reality too!

On the coke scene: if he had taken too much coke, mixed with the alchool and probably other drugs that shit could lead to his death or a coma! toros and garnick aren't stupid, they very likely know that ivan is using drugs and shit like that but if they don't know how much he has done/where he is how are they suppose to help him if it goes wrong? they are there to keep him alive, to keep him in line too, but mostly to keep his ass alive! You don't have to be serious 100% of your time but you also can't be 100% of your time acting like this petulant kid. ivan strikes me as someone who doesn't want to be treated like a kid and wants to be free but he hasn't shown any sense of responsibility to be able to take care of himself alone, like he can still have a kid spirit and be responsible AND sensible towards other people.

Oh i don't think he would even bother to ask anora about her past because like you pointed out he only calls her ani, she only started existing when ani did too. if ani did try to talk to him about it, open up about her past and stuff he wouldn't pay much attention, too distracted playing video games or on his phone. He would be like one of her friends boyfriends she heard so many complains about, you know?

it's a cute assumption but now I'm a little disgusted with it because of what I know... so embarrassing to me! i think with ivan she tried to keep it as much fairytale-ish as she could so she also tried to be a fairytale character, maybe because she felt the need she showed him her true self he would leave, while with igor she didn't want to/felt the need to put up a character, because he wouldn't leave since he understands her struggles.

I do agree that I prefer igor and ani over ivan and ani, like there's somehting more realistic about them, more personal and more 'honest-ish' for lack of a better word to express what I mean. I think ani needs someone a little more serious and responsible than ivan but also someone who can be carefree and I think if we had more time we could see igor being carefree around ani.

Anora only deserves the best and whatever or whoever that is I hope she's happy and at peace!

HELLO I DIDN'T MEAN TO LEAVE THIS ASK FOR SO LONG it kept cutting off when i tried to answer on mobile (which i was restricted to at the hospital) and eventually i decided to leave it until after i actually watched anora and had more formed thoughts!

ani's got a good rapport with the girls at HQ (barring diamond obviously). with how they flocked to see the fight, i bet they're pretty nosy too, listening intently to pick up on clues of if reader and ani are together. they'd have bets on it. lulu (who's basically the captain of the reader x ani ship) would scoff if anyone said reader's just ani's best friend, offended because obviously she is ani's best friend thank you very much.

sometimes when lulu invites ani out after work, ani says that you two have plans, excitedly yapping about how she's planning to decorate your shared sims' house or the ccs she downloaded. and lulu has this knowing look, cause that's so domestic? sweet? calm? not something ani would find fun if you weren't the one showing it too her. like, lulu finds ani in their backstage/changing room area on her switch, doing her daily fruit foraging in her ACNH island, probably cussing out tom nook for upping the house fee when she JUST paid the last one off. lulu knows all of ani's smiles and the ones about you/something you showed her are different to her performance smiles, to her flirty customer service. they're even different from when she's bragging about what a catch ivan is, about his mansion or how much he likes her.

how much he likes her. never the other way around. any other girl would be half in love with how vanya splashes out his time, attention, and cash. even if ani hasn't realised it herself, it's because her heart's already occupied with reader. imagine ani being away for that first week, apologising over and over to reader cause they already made plans while you just tell her it's ok. and then the next two weeks of their marriage, ani was happy and swept up in the excitement but also... restless? missing you? she busied herself with polishing up her russian, in the lavish new wardrobe and new life. in the dark of night wondering when it'll make her as happy as a simple day with you.

ivan's actually pretty interesting now that all the clips have context. he didn't run to not be caught, but more so to take in all the fun he could before he was whisked back - hitting up all the clubs, getting so drunk he wouldn't worry anymore. he didn't even plan to leave ani, fully wanted her to run with him. it was more... "consequences? what are those? boringgg". didn't wanna talk about his family, didn't wanna hear a word of reprimand from his parents, considers anything that isn't having fun as unnecessary. and especially him thanking ani for making his last trip fun as if he didn't ask her to MARRY him, when she was sceptical in the first place and told him not to tease her! she made sure he was sincere multiple times and he strung her along, pure and simple, knowing his parents wouldn't let that happen. knowing that he wouldn't actually fight his parents for it/for them.

gonna write some thoughts on ivan on another post this is getting too long and tbh i was more focused on anora :P (basically he's all about freedom and even argues back when they make a comment about him possibly marrying a man). the marriage was a fantasy to him, as is america, it's a freedom he won't actually pursue at the end of the day. not when being under his parents' thumb is easier. him being treated like a child is actually a privilege. ani's only two years older and knows so much more of responsibilities, of what it takes to earn and own things, of consequences. all vanya has to do is simper and follow his mom, childishly asking if her clothes are from the new collection rather than listening to her beratement.

i feel like if the marriage didn't collapse because of his parents, it'd be whenever ani decides she's had enough of the partying or the smoking and watching him play games. he asks about her parents, and she even offers to let them meet or go meet her sister. she wants to go to disneyworld for their honeymoon. but vanya would be the same vanya. show up drunk and blazed, embarrassing her in front of her mom and stepdad (while she covers his ass and lies "oh i swear he's not always like this, he's just tired"). ruining her childhood dream by letting his friends crash their honeymoon and trash the cinderella suite. she'd realise that this isn't perfect, that it isn't sustainable. it's fun, yes, ivan was right that they'd probably still have fun together if he wasn't rich. but imagine them going through the paperwork of getting that green card, of her trying to make him take it seriously so he can stay. applying, appointments, providing papers and proof... vanya would groan and act like ani's dragging him to do this. and he'd offer ani hits from his bong like he did to klara, never thinking about if something's the right time.

to contrast a relationship where ani would have to be the mature one, ani is notably different with igor (obviously). even if not romantically, having someone there that she can freely bitch at, let out her tension on, that accepts her moods must feel freeing. all these masks she puts on, be that at the club, or the perfect wife for vanya/his family. she's got her barbs, she's allowed to be prickly and abrasive and say whatever comes to her head. igor will laugh it off. she softened near the end (not the end end, i'm sure there's a lot of thoughts on that) when she brought him that blanket. wordlessly sharing blunts or taking the cig from his mouth, smiling when he laughs at a joke she slung to hurt his feelings. he doesn't just take it either. he asks why she says these things about him, asserts that he isn't (a gopnik, a f-slur ass bitch, a drug dealer, a rapist etc), but doesn't get mad at her for it. when toros or galina says "no, that didn't happen", it's to shut ani up, to not listen, to prove that she doesn't have a say/doesn't have power in the situation. when igor says it, it's on equal grounds-that he had to because he was genuinely scared about ani and that he didn't want her to hurt herself. AND after apologising multiple times, rather than jumping to "i didn't hurt you". it was "you were never in danger of being harmed".

[ninelivesastrology]

Moon/Saturn aspects

The Last of Us Part 1 (2022), Naughty Dog

The Moon/Saturn person understands what loneliness is, even in a crowded room full of people. Saturn rules isolation and the Moon rules connection like two opposing forces—Incredibly so because the Moon rules Cancer, the sign of Saturn’s detriment and Saturn rules Capricorn; the sign of Moon’s detriment. Polarities drive this planetary relationship and to whom it belongs, they struggle to find balance.

It’s hard for the Moon/Saturn person to feel a sense of belonging in their own life and in others, to not feel shame for their existence. A Moon/Saturn person would tell you there is no meaning in life if there is no purpose to apply themselves to.

The sense of pressure, of being good enough, it colors everything in apathy, in shades of grey, but this drives perfectionism. But perfectionism is suffocating.

The Scream (1893), Edvard Munch

The Moon/Saturn person must learn to take up space and unlearn the habit of making themselves small. Saturn’s significations lie in restriction. But no one ever tells you that to deny and reject who it is that you are, to reject your very nature is to suffer, to not live a life at all.

There are so many phobias that drive the Moon/Saturn person’s behavior. The internal compass never points North without trembling in fear. The fear of regret, the fear of being hurt, the fear of being close reinforces the belief that nobody can hurt them if they are not vulnerable. Above all these fears, it is the fear of feeling.

Grief is a shadow behind the Moon/Saturn person, the idea of loss intertwined with responsibility, the idea of “what could’ve been” overshadows any amount of gain. 

Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan (1883 - 1885), Ilya Repin

The Moon/Saturn person is a puzzle of learned habits, ingrained so deep in the subconscious. The blame and shame game Moon/Saturn people play with themselves is an example, often as a result of the parent, the Moon being a natural ruler of the all mothers and Saturn being a natural ruler of fathers.

Our Lady of Sorrows, the Moon joys in the 3rd House, also named “the House of the Goddess”

The first time a Moon/Saturn person was told, “You are too sensitive,” they believed it and hardened their heart.

In trying to learn how to control their emotions, they suppressed them. Saturn chills and delays what it touches, resulting in emotional numbness or delayed emotional reactions.

Taurus is the nocturnal domicile of Venus where the Moon is crowned. Libra is the diurnal domicile of Venus where Saturn is crowned. Why is it in Venus’ signs that the Moon and Saturn experience empowerment? Because pleasure without guilt does not deserve punishment, from anybody or the self.

It’s not a crime to have our needs met, to acknowledge the humanity within ourselves and humanity in others. Moon/Saturn people hone in on the wrong “bigger than” situation. No superiority in not feeling. There is no shame in relating to others, in craving security or feeling insecure or lonely.

The internal belief of being “better off alone” originates from grieving people, places and things. Remember, even the word “belief” has “lie” inside of it.

It is a beautiful thing to feel anything at all in the face of grief. Even moreso, it is a gift to be able to let go of temporary feelings that overstay their welcome and cause harm. Intimacy is priceless.

[aleksanderscult]

Metas

Aleksander's jealousy moments:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and the bonus content

Analyzing "Demon in the Wood" (book):

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Analyzing "Demon in the Wood" (Graphic Novel):

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The Alarkling Winter fete make out:

Part 1 - Part 2

The Alarkling tether kiss scene:

Part 1 - Part 2

Analyzing the only Alarkling scene in RoW

What the Darkling thought/felt about Elizaveta:

Here and here

What Aleksander was expecting about the Sun Summoner. His over-the-years thoughts about him/her and his initial thoughts about Alina

The Darkling is NOT a groomer

Alina rejecting Aleksander's advances

Aleksander's and "Alina's" funeral in R&R

Analyzing the Darkling's "I will strip away all that you know..." line

Why does the fandom handles differently Oomen's punishment by Kaz Brekker and Baghra's punishment by the Darkling

How Aleksander is dealing with grief and how he's dealing with people that are grieving

Was the Darkling that much of a liar as the fandom makes him to be?

My opinion about Genya's s*xual ab*se from the King. Was it the Darkling's fault?

The Darkling was terrible at manipulating (and it was the author's fault)

Analyzing Darklina's first kiss in S&B

Analyzing Aleksander's reaction to Alina's loss of her power

Character analysis: Genya from S&B

What kind of "Alina" did Aleksander want?

Was Aleksander power-hungry or wanted power to use it for the protection of his people?

Other

Some fun facts about the Darkling

More Darkling facts

Ivan appreciation post

My favorite Darkling fanarts

My favorite Alina Starkov fanarts

My favorite Darklina fanarts

My favorite Darkling quotes (no ranking)

Why do I hate Mal (for anyone who is wondering)

A masterpost where Leigh Bardugo talks about the Darkling

My headcanons for the Darkling

Fanmade Grishaverse videos

Book trailer for the Grishaverse trilogy

Ruin & Rising, chapter 15 (The burning of the orphanage scene)

[apeninastory]

ivan as a tragic-love character (pt.4b?)

first post HERE. i have been writing this thing since nowhere came out - 3 times listening to it and i was hooked and obsessed and you can't even imagine how much i'm dying to listen to it again.

anyway. wanted to get the preparatory posts out of the way before nowhere comes out again, so here, take part 2.

it was getting too long, so i split it. let's get going!

6] the making of ivan's character - a story by ivan

so, ivan as a social being functions thanks to his mimetic strategy, and with this, he starts to learn things on his own, of course. he probably puts labels on his emotions, one at a time, the more he experience and feels like he understands them. it's just that not all of them are correctly intended. let me underline this: ivan learns abt emotions from little kids, aliens, (alien? human?) classic literature, and absorbs it all through his own perception and understanding of them. no one tells him "this is right, this is wrong" (or those who do may not be super reliable?) + he is numb to most sensations, so not even the way he perceives them can be fully trusted in his learning process.

being unable to completely comprehend what he feels since he has no reliable models/source material, he can only: (1) trust what he does have and label his emotions accordingly, categorizing for examples things like friendship, satisfaction, hunger, vitality, tiredness, fear as "easy" to recognize, as monolitic and unchangable sensations following certain events/actions/reactions (2) stare at what he doesn't find in his "manuals" until it either goes away or becomes comprehensible or (3) he has to coexist with the unfathomable emotions and his inability to fully understand it, disassembling it slowly.

consequences: (1) emotions he has labelled are reliable only partially, as they may be more complex than he believes, so he files other traits under different labels without realizing that many feelings comes with multifaceted elements - so what he knows is not necessarily wrong, but may be incomplete. (2) what he doesn't understand elicits frustration, so he either misplace the emotions in his labelled list in his haste to categorize them or just... lets the be and avoids situations where he is forced to confront them (his rhetoric must be terribly good to fend off emotional attacks! i can see that in him). i kinda like this latter possibility better, maybe as an unconscious mechanism of ivan's part. (3) he is attracted by the idea of decomposing certain emotions he doesn't understand, even if it is not a pleasing experience.

all this makes ivan super good at reading the room, perceiving shifts in mood and behaving accordingly. it derives from his survival instincts + everything he learned to better adapt and survive at anakt. ivan is to me someone who prefers and is good at being in control/having control over himself and what surrounds him - not necessarily in a i-want-to-control-people-around-me way, but like, he wants to be sure that whatever surrounds him (people, things, event) has no secrets for him. he may have a... superiority complex of sort (?) derived by the total lack of control he had when he lived in the slums. the better control he has over things that influence him, the more stability he can achieve.

the art vivimeng posted abt ivan and sua's interaction, with ivan laughing at sua for being as twisted as he is and becoming a trauma for mizi? yeah. he talks as if he has it all figured out (and he is right, there is logic in predicting how sua's sacrifices will end up being a burden for mizi, in his eyes), but we are meant to perceive more. ivan affirming this with such certainty might mean he needs the affirmation, like he is rebuking sua out of spite for something - envy for being at the receiving end of mizi's affection the way he'll never be with till? mh. and of course, we know what he'll end up doing because it's different for him, since till won't miss him.

BOY.

ivan is a subtle, manipulative-freak with slight drama queen tendencies (only regarding more superficial, known-to-him emotions - the rest, he bottles them up reaaal good), so he carefully build his own character. a boy with a tactical, handsome smile, great student, good at everything, a bit annoying but funny to be around, diligent and a teaser, with big-brother vibes. someone who can be perceived as popular in anakt and can easily attract attention outside, a benefit for unsha's investment on him.

the facade works like a wonder - though, not on sua and till, in different ways. sua sees through it, and ivan feels they are similar, so it makes sense that it doesn't work on her. till ignores it and finds ivan unsufferable, probably prefers when ivan doesn't pretend, since he remembers how freaky he was as a child. we know they both enjoy the quite moments with no fights between them, something ivan thought of as one-sided, but it confirms that till likes (not intended in romantic ways) ivan when he stops being annoying and calculative, possibly kinda likes having him around and considers him a friend of sort - albeit a strange one.

ivan isn't quite aware of that, so he probably tries his hardest with till, and the way he is often seen orbiting around him tells us ivan knows that till at least tolerates his presence. after mizi, ivan is the one till grades with the hightest percentage among the people close to him, so even if ivan doesn't fully understand till and what he feels, till still regards him as a friend.

all the way through graduation, ivan cultivates his emotions, both fake and authentic ones. but as we can expect, this is bound to leave holes and discordances in this narrative he writes/lets others write for him.

friendship. he gets good at it, being a good people-reader, but many kids say they don't know much abt ivan. he probably is that type of friend that doesn't share abt himself, so people have the illusion that he is friendly and open and approachable, but when they think abt it, they don't know much abt him at all. ivan himself is surprised to be addressed as "the popular one", saying "it's a first" in his interview, and that he is getting used to the attention. he also says that back in anakt

I've been asked out a couple of times, but I wasn't that popular. I did have a lot of friends, though.

appearance. he is the one with the beautiful smile, but compliments regarding his appearance are strange to him. he doesn't rely on his charm, since "he thinks he has more flaws (ahah)", but instead studies abt the brand he has to work for - again, studying, reaching out for clear models, mimicking and replicating. conclusion: my baby is stunning and not even he can argue against me abt this.

love. he sees till loving mizi from afar and does the same with him, but his nature is far more obsessive and needy, so he orbits closely around till, who fails to understand what ivan's intentions are. and how could it be otherwise? ivan is unclear abt his own feelings without being able to address the existence of that unclearness (or not totally), so it is hard for him to convey them to others (you can't explain what you don't understand/don't know), let alone till, who's incredibly dense and biased (with reasons!) when it comes to ivan.

love pt.2. i've always found it curious that ivan doesn't mention love in black sorrow (i think someone hypothesized he may have not written the lyrics), since we can see how that sorrow may be intertwined with love. also, love is the most stereotypical of the labels he probably came across, and i guess he must have attached it to till, at some point. i can imagine ivan asking himself "what is love?" and looking for clues around him. growing up, he sees kisses, relays to till that everyone is doing that and he wants to try - half teasing, half curious himself, probably.

understanding of himself. he is naturally detatched. he mocks sua for her intentions toward mizi, but the moment he realizes (by observing and imitating) that what she has arouses envy in him, he probably understands he wants the same. he looks at mizi and sua being happy and wants that - though maybe he feels like he is not able to produce the same feeling within himself. does he understand that what he feels is envy? that he desires till's love? probably, but not totally. he acts like he has it all figured out and mouths poor sua for something he'll end up doing too. first step toward hypocrisy.

understanding of himself pt2. what i love abt his character is that despite this whiny, clingy self he decided to role as, he is incredibly closed off abt his emotions - i am very similar, as i tend to voice little things i find annoying and whine abt random stuff but gatekeep deeper, far more problematic emotions. his portray of himself is flawed - either because he can't look at himself objectively, he mistakes people's intentions/feelings toward him or is unaware of certain things. no matter where we put the origin of this, ivan can't be relied upon when he speaks abt himself.

7] the meteor shower thing and how it is a turning point in ivan's narrative

this is such a pivotal moment in kid-ivan's life.

imagine him training his smiles and trying to be more sociable and studying hard because that's what he needs to do to survive at anakt. imagine till being one of the first spontaneous, not-survival-related thing ivan wants for himself and trying to understand how to please till in order to become closer.

he sees till's struggle, his need for freedom, his fighting spirit against injustice. little ivan would have loved someone like him in the slums - a curageous hero, unafraid to vent and rebel, who could lift their sleeping, numbed spirits. till would have probably drawn more harm than good, though, and ivan probably finds him stupid and reckless, totally unable to be relied upon and ensure his own survival, so his days must be numbered, right? how can someone like till even exists in their world? either his light will stop shining or he'll die in an explosion so bright, he'll be forever remembered.

ivan can't help but be intrigued, so he follows till around. baits him into an alien's den and just can't stop looking at till's light. till is just like the meteors he saw when he was taken - he burns, he falls, all in repeat. beautiful.

so he offers till what he thinks till wants - a life far from the pain of anakt, far from fake walls and experiements and forced singing. a life where till can burn and fall to his own accord, a life full of stars, just like the metors witnessing their escape. did he know there would be a meteor shower? maybe that's what he wanted to do - share with till his most precious memory. sometimes i wonder if ivan had to prepare for a long time to make it happen - he probably studied the pattern of guards patroling and looked for safe exits and such, right? do you think he was something like hopeful the entire time, imagining how it would be?

i wanna kms

till rejects it. no hard blame on him *refrain from delving into till's character, hanji, refrain*, but what a hard blow must have been for ivan. maybe a part of him knew it'd end like that - depending on how much he had already figured abt till's kind personality.

ivan almost had him, but he slipped away. till's reaction makes sense to him, probably - why trade the total unknown, the instability ivan knows comes from living on the streets for something secure, even if fake and temporary? there is no guarantee they'll make it out there, either. beside, why would till want to stay with ivan? it all makes sense.

(NO BABY NO IT DOESN'T I'D RUN AWAY WITH YOU TO THE END OF THE EARTH)

but he can't help feeling resentful and angry and disappointed and sad. that's human, even if he doesn't understand completely, even if he thinks it doesn't make sense for him to feel negative abt till's reaction, given what rationality tells him. escaping without till makes no sense for him, either - escaping was for till, not for himself.

this is where the dissonance is rooted.

"ivan" splits in two: on one hand we have the character he has built for himself. on the other, the raw, unknown and unlabelled emotions he thinks he has under control/understands. love is the most emblematic, for us. in ivan's mind, love is the devotion in sua's eyes when she looks at mizi, mizi's blinding smile when she sings and play with sua, till's longing and artistic inspiration stemming from mizi. he observes and mimics and tries to be part of it all.

he does watch till from afar, but can't completely imitate till as he forces his presence in till's space far too often to abide to till's awkward circling around mizi.

his emotion is as twisted as sua's, who wants to gatekeep mizi for herself, but not as soft and innocent as her gaze on mizi. there is something darker and crueller and more violent and obsessive under ivan's controlled affection, something that is psychologically normal, given what he went through, but that fits none of ivan's labels and definitions.

after all, love is pure and light and vessel of beautiful and positive things. although what he feels for till partly adapts to what love is, it is not only that. it's more, it's less, it's bigger, it's hard to convey.

8] hypocrisy and how ivan signed his own emotional doom without really being aware of it

the dissonance grows, even if he doesn't actively address it. he probably forces it down, tells himself "let it be, just go on", like he did a million times in the slums in orderd to survive. it is a well-oiled mechanism. but he has grown comfy in his new life - a life where he doesn't actively have to fend off dangers, since they are inevitable but controlled, so he has time to think and desire.

Realising he loves till probably wasn't immediate - the feeling is there, it's unnamed, and I wonder if Ivan eagerly put the label on it or not (was he relieved? or was he burdened byt it? maybe a bit of both - like, "i am capable of love, but in this environment, where will this lead me?"), and how long it took. from his anakt profile, we know he dislikes ignorance and rudeness (he is so composed, when he has to play his role in society, so aware of what he has to do, so how could he not?), but we can find these traits in till - so it's not (only) that he dislikes them, these traits frustrate him because despite not liking them, they are part of a person he has deep affecton for. again, hypocrisy.

After the meteor shower, nurturing something that maybe was already there, the feeling grows with the dissonance, and with love comes hate. i like the idea of him (usually so in control) unconsciously taking his frustration out on sua in that scene where he accuses her of becoming a trauma for future-mizi, while silently, he wonders what will be of him and till if they will have to face each other.

PART 3

[iilllya]

Sein Blick ist vom Vorübergehn der Stäbe so müd geworden, dass er nichts mehr hält. Ihm ist, als ob es tausend Stäbe gäbe und hinter tausend Stäben keine Welt.

Ivan the Terrible Visited by the Ghosts of Those He Murdered

We wished upon sea foam. The waves know our secrets, but I only asked for you.

Overanalysing sad german cops part 2/?: Leo Hölzer + guilt, fear and devotion

part 1, 3, 4 and 5: here, here, here and here !

Rainer Maria Rilke, Der Panther / Richard Siken, Crush / Tatort Saarbrücken / Water painted by Ivan Aivazovsky / DPR IAN, Scaredy Cat / Hermann Hesse, Narziss und Goldmund / Ivan the Terrible Visited by the Ghosts of Those He Murdered by Baron Mikhail Petrovich Klodt / Paul Delaroche, The Young Martyr / GGGOLDDD, This Shame Should Not Be Mine / Aure Vives, km ... x0 / Leah Horlick, For Your Own Good / eAeon, RM, Don't

[amomentxofhappiness]

ooc // as you probably noticed, had a massive surge of productivity! I blame it on christnas cheer (and a change in attitude). Ill be re-adding old muses with a twist and new muses. Here's the short (?) list:

Ivan Koch Baquero - daniel brühl, 40s, boringly straight. Either film director and snob as hell or MI6 operative and also snob as hell. catalunyan mom, german dad, italian grandparents. the man can talk more languages since age 3 than you in your fifties.

Phil Matthews - adam brody, late 30s, early 40s. Half brother to Ben, nerd, works a job he hates but is dealing with it. Less boringly straight.

Paula Rogers (no relation to Steve)- alycia debnam-carey, late 20s early 30s. Black belt that made some cash profiting on her looks & the exposure she received competing. She gives ted talks and does pro-bono works with underpriviliged girls. Has her own dojo and did a good job hiring her lawyer & investment company. Shes not a millionaire by any means but lives comfortably and does the odd tv spot / tv show, thinking of branching into acting (def was part of the cob.ra kai series in some shape or form). Oh she's bi af.

Lucas (Lou) Dreyfus - alan ritchson, early 40s, what a man. Pan af. Former military, by the book (not a reacher rip off but more like a jack ryan one ngl, i like spies, not even sorry).

Zeus/Henry richardson - jeffrey dean morgan, looks early 50s, over 5000. The OG Daddy TM. Based ob my own canon from my olympus blog /fables comics and greek knowledge (nerd alert). He's a judge, has his powers, do not fuck with his kids (whats left of them anyway)

Henry's main (non-zeus) verse - he's a Judge in the NY Criminal court. Before this he was the district attorney. he's a widower (and a bit of a ladies' man since his late 40s but he just hadn't found the one). he's not into kids (=anyone under 35) but apparently he has 'daddy' energy and young women keep hitting on him. he has two kids Gwen (Jennifer Morrison FC, has a career in the military a& ) and Jack (Jamie Dornan, also a muse here). Jack was his late wife's child and he adopted him when Jack was 3 and they married. Gwen was born shortly after. He's dedicated and determined, a bit playful and is trying his best to de-toxisize himself. He also babysits his pre-teen granddaughter an awful lot (Jack's daughter with his late with Magda) so that Jack can go do whatever he wants. He has some investments and lives comfortably.

Teddy potter - nicholas galitzine, late 20s early 30s. Bi leaning to gay afm industrial designer. Currently unemployed. Still living with his dad and feeling terribly bad over it. Been through some things and dealing with all of them.

Ted lupin - jensen ackles, early 40s. Fubar boi since almost birth, till doesnt understand why both of his parents had to go off and fight in a dooned battle against evil incarnate. Loves his grandma, his godfather and his uncle draco. Hates hia godfathers ex wife g weasley and her entire family. Feels guilty for his hs girlfriend's death (manpain im sorry he was created in 2012) and needs copious amount of therapy. Instead he takes copious amounta of beer. Tried to get clean multiple times, failed in all of them. Needs a +1 that says "i can fix him" to be dependant on and revolve his life around them. Bi af though it took him a decade to accept he liked d*ck.

[angel-with-paper-wings]

“The Brothers Karamazov”: Book 1 Random Thoughts

Spoilers under the cut!!!

Poor baby Mitya being forgotten at every turn by the adult guardians in his life 😭😭 This definitely won’t leave any long-lasting psychological damage…

We’re two chapters into the first part and Fyodor Pavlovitch is already proving himself to be worth less than the scum on my shoe 😤

I can tell Dostoevsky was a big believer in the “trauma during childhood leads to psychological challenges in adulthood” theory, which is so important since a huge portion of modern-day psychology believes this to be true as well. It just makes his book seem so real.

SLAYYY THE GENERAL’S WIDOW DOING WHAT WE ALL WISH WE COULD DO AND SLAPPING FYODOR PAVLOVITCH IN THE FACE 👏👏👏🔥🔥🔥

In the words of that Brooklyn-99 meme: “I’ve only had Alyosha for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” 🥹🥹

“There are “certain” words and conversations unhappily impossible to eradicate in schools. Boys pure in mind and heart, almost children, are fond of talking in school among themselves, and even aloud, of things, pictures, and images of which even soldiers would sometimes hesitate to speak.” - It appears that students in Russian schools in the mid-1800s acted the same as students in American public schools today 🙄

During the whole “Are there hooks in hell?” conversation between Fyodor and Alyosha at the end of Chapter 4, all I could think of was that one SpongeBob ep:

“He entered upon this path only because, at that time, it alone struck his imagination and presented itself to him as offering an ideal means of escape for his soul from darkness to light.” - But why did Alyosha feel the need for the escape from “darkness”? So far, this kid seemed to grow up in a nice household where he was taken care of well, at least in comparison to his brother Dmitri. I’m curious to know if he’s secretly guilty about something, or maybe he is still grieving his mother? Hmm, he is a tough nut to crack…

I’m so fascinated by the chosen alliances of the brothers: you would expect that Dmitri, being the most similar to his father in behavior, would be the one to get along with Fyodor the best, but instead he allies with Alyosha almost immediately, and Ivan gets along with their father the most??

“He only sent word the day before, through a friend, to his brother Dmitri, that he loved him and expected him to keep his promise. Dmitri wondered, for he could not remember what he had promised…” - DMITRI 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

This has been SUCH an interesting read so far! I’m so excited to learn more about these brothers and their terrible father!!

[lucem-stellarum]

So this is what, the 3rd time Porter has been decked by a character because of his attitude? At minimum?

Under the cut for long and rambling character and literary analysis

We have the initial fight 4-5 years ago between Porter and Vincent

We have Lovely getting him during their "Switzerland" talk before the Summit

Now we have Asher at the Summit (part II electric boogaloo)

At this point, I'm starting to wonder if we're even supposed to like him as a character. Sure, he's charismatic. Porter got Treasure wrapped around his finger in less than an hour. But Mr. Redacted is usually pretty clear about delineating between who is intended to be the characters we're supposed to be supporting (with enough moral grayness to make them complex and interesting). So many of his characters are a great example of the difference between the narrative 'protagonist' and the narrative 'hero'. Going back to the more technical literary term, a protagonist* is the character the story is about, but they're not necessarily the same as the hero of the story. Yandere!Ivan was a great protagonist, but he's very obviously the villain of that plotline. If you want a classic example, Michael Corleone (The Godfather) is a villain protagonist.

*I'll point out that depending on what exact definition you're using for "protagonist" that you can argue that the listener character is supposed to be the main character. I don't think that fits because in many of Redacted's cases the listener falls into the "sexy lamp" trope, where by design they have few if any character traits of their own so we as listeners can project on them. To me, they're the point of view character, which though usually is not always the same as the protagonist. IMO, a protagonist should play a more active role in the story. Overall it's a fascinating way of capitalizing on the limitations of Mr. Redacted's chosen medium, and I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on this phenomenon.

Most characters fall into either the 'hero' or 'villain' category. Characters like David, Asher, Vincent, Elliott, Guy, Ollie, and Gavin are all clearly hero protagonists**. Their respective stories revolve around their interactions with the listener character, they're the good, upstanding citizens that we want to support. They've got flaws, sure, but for the most part they're meant to be appealing characters that we agree with. Characters like Marcus, Yandere!Ivan, and Regulus are clearly the villain protagonists; they're the "bad guys", we want them to fail in whatever terrible thing they're trying to do. (Which isn't to say you can't enjoy their particular brand of twisted. Dark characters and themes are important and have their place).

**with the caveat that different focal length of a particular story can change who is the technical 'protagonist' and 'antagonist'. Kody, in his Water Elemental videos, is a 'villain protagonist'; when you look at the DAMN series overall he's better classified an antagonist of season 1. The fact that there's so many perspective changes across Mr. Redacted's overall work means that a lot of these terms can get muddied depending on which specific set of videos you're referring to.

Which brings me to the 3rd type of protagonist, the anti-hero. The anti-hero is a protagonist that the reader/listener wants to succeed, but generally lacks the traditional/universal moral traits that usually define the classic hero protagonist. Examples of an anti-hero protagonist include: Deadpool, Walter White (Breaking Bad), Huckleberry Finn. In particular, the mark of a well-written antihero protagonist is the fact that it can be difficult to distinguish them from a villain protagonist. Vega is a good example of this; in the Sadism's Hold/DAMN S1 series he's an antagonist for Freelancer and Yandere!Ivan. He graduates to a villain protagonist in early Carpe Deus, and with his stated goal of preventing another Cacophony he's morphing into an anti-hero in the more recent videos. I'm sure you can get hyper-specific if you start going through all the TVTropes pages to find the perfect flavor for individual characters, but most major protagonists can be classified as one of those three groups (with eternal, ongoing debates on where specifically you draw those particular lines based on your particular morals).

Bringing it back to Porter, I'm not sure that he's meant to be an anti-hero. He's charming, intelligent, capable, and likeable (to those not biased by his history like Vincent and Sam). But I don't think we're supposed to support him as a character overall. We've had too many "hero" characters come to conflict with him; Vincent, Asher, and Lovely explicitly. Even without getting into the fine distinctions between a protagonist/supporting character/POV character that's an awful lot of animosity from some very well established people. We might not know all of his goals/motives yet because they haven't been revealed to us (Porter wants to support William, wants to gain 'power', but why? What history drives him? What is his specific end goal with that power?) but his manipulation of other people, ruthlessness, and his own acknowledged boot-licking to increase his own social power disqualify him from a traditional "hero protagonist" role. An anti-hero is one we still are intended by the author to want to support, a character we want to see succeed. But because Mr. Redacted keeps putting Porter into direct conflict with more traditional protagonists it sets him up to be an opposing force; by definition he is an antagonist to our established hero protagonists.

I've talked a lot about the different types of protagonists and some of the minute distinctions between the different types of protagonists. Antagonists can be even more variable; you have your classic Devil, Sauron, and Darth Vader trying to kill your protagonist heroes. Technically speaking, antagonists don't necessarily have to be characters, either, they can be forces or concepts. An antagonist is just someone or something that opposes the protagonist. I won't divert into the different types of conflict in a story, but I'll point out how much more variety there is for your villains than your heroes based on their particular blend of moral alignment and narrative framing. (It's a lot easier to make things go wrong than it is to make things go well). You can also have sympathetic antagonists, where the villain has acceptable motives even if their methods are objectionable and cement their status as villains. Think the Wicked Witch of the West; Dorothy killed her sister, revenge is an entirely reasonable motive even if we're not supposed to be on her side. Adam and Quinn are the clearest unsympathetic antagonist villain characters in Redacted-verse. Blake is a sympathetic antagonist, vacillating between a villain and an anti-hero depending on whether we're looking at him from Sunshine or Bestie's POV.

As far as my initial claim that we're not supposed to like Porter, we have to consider which lens we're looking at him through. From Vincent's perspective he's an unredeemable asshole. William, however, clearly sees something in him. Other characters we trust that don't have that skewed perspective because of baggage, like Asher, don't like him either. While Porter is the protagonist of his own videos (you are the main character inside your own head) he's not being cast as a classical hero. Morality wise, even in his own story he's an anti-hero at best (he wasn't honestly trying to warn Treasure off, he was luring them in to SkySide). He's got the potential to be sympathetic (at least, according to Sam and William) but he's outnumbered in the narrative of protagonists (at the very least, by Vincent, Lovely, Asher, and there's evidence for Milo and David because of what he put Sweetheart up to) who consider him an antagonist, causing them problems or otherwise being obstructive. Considering the weight of numbers and length of existence in the overall story Mr Redacted is telling, Porter so far is generally being portrayed as an antagonist to our hero protagonists but not necessarily as a villain (like Vincent wants him to be) of Close Knit's caliber. So, this leaves him in a very interesting position on the morality/perspective spectrum. Essentially:

[Photo ID: a graph running from Villain to Hero along the horizontal axis and Protagonist to Antagonist along the vertical axis. Gavin, Lasko, Guy, Ollie, Caelum, David, Asher, Milo, Vincent (post-Adam) are in the Hero-Protagonist Corner. Regulus, Yandere!Ivan, Kody, Vega (DAMN S1) are in the Villain-Antagonist Corner. Vega (early) is in the Villain Protagonist Corner. Vincent (early) and Vega (later) are in the Protagonist Antihero area. Porter is in the Antagonist Antihero area. /end ID]

Because of these mostly negative relationships to our established characters I don't think he's meant to be "supportable". There's too many reasons someone could write him off as unredeemable, based off of his history, his current actions, and his morals. Mr Redacted obviously intended us to be pitted against certain characters like Adam, Kody, and Yandere!Ivan in the same way the author intends us to like and support wholesome characters like David, Huxley, and Guy. I think Porter was written in such a way that we're supposed to disapprove of him despite his likeability in the same way we're "supposed to" disapprove of most of the Imperium characters or Alexis. There's a glimmer of "redemption" deep down for how good they could be if the universe was a little kinder towards them and they didn't have to resort to morally questionable (at best) actions and perspectives, but harsh circumstances left them protecting themselves with sharp edges designed to make anyone who gets too close bleed. Character complexity is attractive, but that's not the same thing as being sympathetic.

After all of this I have to say, death of the author is 100% valid as a concept. At least half of a story is determined by the reader themselves, and this in particular is just my interpretation of these particular facts and classifications. Depending on how you want to weight certain factors and perspectives you can come to a completely different conclusion. By trying to define a particular character the act of applying a definition means you have to be reductive; making a decision on which box to put them in flattens out their complexities. You don't have to APPROVE of a character to LIKE them. There's also a difference between a morally GOOD character and a COMPELLING character. Not every character has to be redeemed, it's not a prerequisite for finding them interesting. Just because Mr Redacted wants us to hate certain characters doesn't mean everyone is obligated to; you're entitled to your own opinion.

[la-pheacienne]

Ivan the Terrible, part 1. A film by Sergei Eisenstein