oretsev, m.

— do you feel different now that you spit me out?

[bladebecome-blog]

amanda is a woman after both my heart & mal’s.

[bladebecome-blog]

i’ll make a meta about this soon but mal definitely has long hair. i honestly can’t picture him with short hair until he and alina “die” at the end of the trilogy

[themamayaga]

“Is love freedom? Or only a longer leash? Love is a leash that pulls both ways, I think. So is worship. So is adoration. And I’m bereft of wine, unfortunately.”

— Mabel, Episode 30

[bladebecome-blog]

ugly post since i’m mobile but — if anyone would like a starter from ravka’s most hated, feel free to like this post.

[bladebecome-blog]

& again since i need to head to bed.

[tempestcall]

❝    YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE QUITE A NUMBER  of enemies if you keep doing this.    ❞    the sharp fumes of the vial she cradles in her palm surrounds them in a haze of HEADACHES    &    DEEP BREATHS;    zoya doesn’t do much to hide her the distaste that crinkles her nose as she takes her place behind mal.    ❝   of course,    you don’t seem to be too bothered by that fact.    ❞    a certain strain of curiosity appends to her already silken tone while she lets her eyes linger over each splotch of blue - black    &    EACH RIVER OF DARK RED on his exposed skin.   following a momentary tightening of her brow,    she takes her time soaking the corners of the healer’s cloth in the vial    &    dabbing at the first laceration of many.  

❝    CHALLENGING ADRIK WAS RISKY,    oretsev,    or did you forget that you’re only an otkazat’sya.    ❞    she’s sure that her implications would be detected    &    understood,    but just to make her point GLARINGLY apparent,    she pushes the cloth onto the edge of another cut,   knowing full well that the sting would serve as a reminder.    ❝    don’t mistake me,    though,    i’m sure these will leave scars—    &    i love scars on a man.    ❞

@bladebecome​

[bladebecome-blog]

ZOYA IS A DISTINCT NOTE SCATTERED FROM THE REST : she does not smell like something rotting from the inside out, like a soul trapped & caged in a decaying prison. she is not something dying amid time's slow dance — not her.  death lingers & waits in her background, its breath hitched & choked in fear of her presence. she is the hint of a growing storm, of lightning just before it strikes the earth to leave its mark, of the air & its bated breath : she is something holy. her flesh is not like his — decorated in sweat & blood like a new uniform. befitting of an otkazat'sya! he could not fathom a goddess in her liking — pity he's had such little patience & proclivity for religion. " i didn't join to make friends. "

THE TASTE OF HEATED METAL NIPS AT THE BACK OF HIS THROAT — another gentle reminder in wake of the sting that came before it. " and i'd be no better than adrik if i forgot that fact. " now which of the storm-personified's words is he lingering on most : enemies or being no better? his face shifts at the thought, scrunched & crumpled like one of alina's maps & left to waste in a full bin. but his mind offers little comfort, skull plucked & pulled apart into something empty — save for the strums of pain flitting along his nerves just like the blood coursing through his veins. another press, another wince, another tally mark scratched on the wall of his mortality. " did you pray for them, then? " despite himself, despite his heart, he feels his mask crack with the smile that dares to surface — charmed & charming, all coming together like a play he's rehearsed & recited a dozen times now. " that would explain why there's so many, wouldn't it? " 

[bladebecome-blog]

ugly post since i’m mobile but — if anyone would like a starter from ravka’s most hated, feel free to like this post.

[captnbard-deactivated20200128]

“And I guess it’s a reminder that wanting and deserving aren’t the same thing.”