jomiddlemarch
jomiddlemarch
Over Goldengrove unleaving
The Venn diagram of poetry and fan fiction, or a writer's therapy.
jomiddlemarch · 3 hours ago
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"I think you're pretty when you smile," Alina said and Aleksander coughed over his drink.
"I think you're pretty when you smile," Alina said and Aleksander coughed over his drink.
“What?”
“Frankly, when Baghra showed me that absolutely nightmarish portrait hidden away in the tunnel that she said was supposed to be you, which was also supposed to drive me out of the Little Palace because of the sheer horror of you being revealed as the Black Heretic, all I could think was that it didn’t look very much like you at all and that even a half-way decent court painter would have been sure to capture the angle of your cheekbones and the delicate curve of your lips and the way your hair waves back from your forehead,” Alina said, tracing the features she’d mentioned with a light finger. “I’m a half-way decent artist at best and I have more recognizable sketches of you in my sketchbook.”
“You do?”
“If you’re done with your varenukha, I can show you, Sashenka,” she offered, smiling herself as he tossed back the last of the spiced liquor, smiling again at the taste of the varenukha on his lips as he kissed her in what was clearly an enthusiastic assent to her proposal.
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jomiddlemarch · 9 hours ago
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"I told you- I want to be left alone."
Fandom and pairing of your discretion (but rooting for Darklina).
"I told you-- I want to be left alone," Alina said. She wanted to turn her back on Aleksander as he had done only a few minutes ago to her, their bitter recriminations as present as smoke between them, but there was something in the way he left his hand extended towards her, the expression in his eyes as he glanced at the monstrous collar around her neck, that kept her from walking away. She had called him back, his name soft on her lips and scathing Aleksander, and he’d paused and then came to her, closer than she would have thought. Than she would have allowed herself to desire.
“No, you don’t—you think you ought to want that, but you don’t,” he said, his tone telling her he knew, he understood her ambivalence, her uncertainty.
“If you come back, you can’t just storm off again, you can’t leave me when I say something you hate—when I tell you the truth,” she said and he nodded with the formality of an obeisance.
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jomiddlemarch · 19 hours ago
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First sentence of a fic: "It looks like a dacha," Nina said, her head tilted at an angle to take it in. "Or at least like the servants' house near a dacha."
"It looks like a dacha," Nina said, her head tilted at an angle to take it in. "Or at least like the servants' house near a dacha."
“Well, you were pretty vague in the ask, Nina,” Niko said. “You told me to watch ‘The Great’ and also ‘Tiny House Nation’ and then do edibles. Matthias gets the composting toilet he wants and you get a soaking tub.”
“What’s this dormer here, a study?” Nina asked, pointing at the blueprint because of course Niko was being a hipster old-school architect about it and refusing to use any 3D architecture program.
“The nursery, the one room you didn’t have to mention for me to include it,” Niko said.
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jomiddlemarch · 22 hours ago
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A warmth as near as if the Sun Were shining in your Hand
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“No, not that kefta,” General Kirigan called out sharply as Fedyor, Saints love him, was trying to coax the girl, the new Sun Summoner who wore the stained and tattered uniform of a lowly First Army soldier, into a passable Corporalki kefta, one that would fit the slight young woman or near enough. At the sound of their general’s voice, they all went still, even the girl, who’d been curiously clumsy in putting on the kefta.
“Moi soverenyyi?” Ivan said. There were any number of questions he had asked and he knew the General had heard them all, would answer only what he wished to.
“Take my cape for Miss Starkov,” he said. “That kefta is insufficient to her needs and as a disguise, it’s sorely lacking.”
“Insufficient? I checked the lining, moi soverenyyi. The Corecloth is intact, not a tear or a rent, though I admit it’s rather dusty and in need of a good brushing,” Fedyor said.
“It won’t keep her warm enough,” the General said. The girl, as if she were a soubrette on the stage in Os Alta being cued by her director, shivered noticeably. Ivan kept himself from rolling his eyes but she did look a bit drawn. “She has the wasting sickness. And you will be driving through the night.”
“I’m used to being cold,” she said, this Alina Starkov from nowhere. She was a Grisha yes, but what else? A spy for Shu-Han? For the faction of the nobility calling for the dissolution of the Little Palace? The Apparat’s lackey, a Sankta to bring about the downfall of the Darkling General? The General had many enemies, however inured to them as he always seemed to be. Something about this Alina had shaken the leader of the Grisha, had made him pause and take a long breath, altering the very timbre of his voice, and that made Ivan more uneasy than any squadron of bloodthirsty Fjerdan warriors or Shu-Han assassins.
“Not anymore,” the General said, unfastening the worked silver clasp at his throat and tossing the richly embroidered, fur-trimmed cape to Fedyor who caught it neatly enough. The General inclined his head and Fedyor let the red kefta drop to the ground and settled the cape around the girl. The hem pooled around her feet as dark as the shadows of the Fold, but it somehow didn’t overwhelm her, instead looked like the Tsaritsa’s winter mantle though Starkov wore no almond blossom coronet or gold filet in her braided hair. Ivan glanced back at the General and saw the faintest curve to his lip, an expression Ivan had never seen before.
“Go now, take her to the Little Palace with all haste,” the General ordered. “May all the Saints keep you safe on your journey, Miss Starkov, and may they guide you home with the gentleness of the dove, the swiftness of the falcon’s gyre.” Ivan nodded as did Fedyor, concealing their surprise at the use of the old blessing. Alina did not duck her head or nod, but she let Fedyor take her elbow through the heavy cape, to bring her to the carriage, tucking the black cloth around her as she settled onto the seat and turning her face to nestle against the sable collar, a little color coming into her cheeks.
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jomiddlemarch · a day ago
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"It's just a little cold, Matthias," Nina chided as she tucked him under the quilt.
"It's just a little cold, Matthias," Nina chided as she tucked him under the quilt. “You’re the one with a fever and chills and if you don’t let that tonic I got from the doctor work, you’re in a fair way to get double pneumonia. Let me see to the cows and the chickens and then I promise, I’ll come right back and get in bed with the most enormous hot toddy you ever saw.”
“The chores would get done sooner if you’d let me help,” he protested, forced to stop when his petulance was overtaken by another coughing attack.
“That’s what you said yesterday and now here we are,” Nina said as she laid her hand against his forehead, felt the fever rising, stroked his unshaven cheek. She watched as he closed his eyes, the fight gone out of him; she wouldn’t be lingering over the milking, unwilling to be away from him one second longer than she needed to be.
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jomiddlemarch · a day ago
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Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and i will write the next five.
This prompt meme was made by someone else but my post archives are massive, so….
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jomiddlemarch · a day ago
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There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time
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“If your shoes pinch, I can send for Genya. She’ll have another pair ready in a few minutes,” Ivan said, after watching Alina fidget, fuss and finally raise herself on tip-toe, one foot behind the other in what was an unacceptably precarious posture, though the marble railing of the gallery was high enough to keep her from plummeting to her death in the ballroom below. She might only have been maimed by such a fall, landing on one of the elaborately gowned ladies of the Imperial court; a silk skirt with a number of taffeta petticoats would soften the impact enough to allow Alina to escape with a broken hip if she twisted the right way mid-air. If he mentioned any of this to Fedyor, his husband would shake his head at Ivan’s allegedly morbid catastrophizing, which Ivan would insist was simply part of the position as the General’s chief of security. He was not seriously worried about Alina tripping and catapulting herself, but something about the angle of her neck, the way her hand had repeatedly touched the gold fillet at the back of her head, that slender little ankle hooked behind the other stirred something in him. Not pity, not fondness, but there was something of both in the nameless feeling that had led him to speak.
Keep reading
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jomiddlemarch · 2 days ago
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There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time
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“If your shoes pinch, I can send for Genya. She’ll have another pair ready in a few minutes,” Ivan said, after watching Alina fidget, fuss and finally raise herself on tip-toe, one foot behind the other in what was an unacceptably precarious posture, though the marble railing of the gallery was high enough to keep her from plummeting to her death in the ballroom below. She might only have been maimed by such a fall, landing on one of the elaborately gowned ladies of the Imperial court; a silk skirt with a number of taffeta petticoats would soften the impact enough to allow Alina to escape with a broken hip if she twisted the right way mid-air. If he mentioned any of this to Fedyor, his husband would shake his head at Ivan’s allegedly morbid catastrophizing, which Ivan would insist was simply part of the position as the General’s chief of security. He was not seriously worried about Alina tripping and catapulting herself, but something about the angle of her neck, the way her hand had repeatedly touched the gold fillet at the back of her head, that slender little ankle hooked behind the other stirred something in him. Not pity, not fondness, but there was something of both in the nameless feeling that had led him to speak.
“Oh, the shoes are fine. Lovely. Please don’t bother Genya, she’s done so much to get me ready for tonight. I expect it’s rather a waste, but there’s no use throwing slops to a sick sow as they say,” Alina said, revealing quite a lot. Ivan allowed himself to smile slightly at her choice of idiom, one popular in the rural farmlands of the south.
“They say good kopeks after bad here in Os Alta, because they don’t know the value of a pig. Or the hard work of farming. The otkazat’sya here are all merchants and guildsmen, given to gambling and usury,” Ivan said. “Not much like Keramzin, I imagine.”
“No,” Alina said quickly, then paused. “I suppose not anyway. I don’t know much about Keramzin besides the orphanage. It might have just been something the woman who ran the place said, Ana Kuya. She had a saying for every situation, I used to joke to Mal that she’d written them down in a great big book but Mal said—”
“He was your friend, the one on the skiff,” Ivan said when Alina broke off and made no attempt to resume speaking.
“He was. He’s in the First Army. A tracker. He’d laugh to see me here tonight, like this,” she said.
“Like what?” He suspected he knew what she meant but it was better to let her talk.
“Like a fool, trying to pass herself off as an elegant lady, Tailored and gussied up. Plain, scrawny Alina parading around in a silk kefta and gold slippers, acting like she belongs at the Imperial court,” she said, all in a rush as he’d anticipated. She was even glowing a little around her fingertips as she gesticulated.
“You are Grisha, not one of those silly otkazat’sya women. Sheep, the lot of them,” Ivan said.
“But they are nobles, the Tsar’s nobles, the daughters and wives of the best families,” Alina said. Was she genuinely scandalized? Ivan shrugged to keep from laughing; that he would do later, when he told Fedya about this before they went to sleep.
“And the Tsar is only an otkazat’sya with the most money, who’s fooled them into bowing down to him. He cannot command the wind or the rain, the tides or the flames on a hearth, nor heal the smallest wound,” Ivan said. “They are not worth any adulation, not from a Grisha and certainly not from the Sun Summoner.”
“It’s not just that,” Alina muttered.
“No? What it is then?” Ivan asked.
“They are all so beautiful, so splendid and grand and graceful—all their silks and lace and velvet ribbons, their jewels and combs, they all look completely at ease, natural, like flowers, roses and lilies and orchids. And I look like a Shu drab who’s stolen her mistress’s castoffs, no matter how long and hard Genya worked on me and it was hours, Ivan, hours!”
He had to smile then. She’d never called him by his first name before.
“Genya is a perfectionist. The length of time is not a reflection on your features or complexion,” Ivan said. Alina raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical and for once, he could see her charm.
“I wouldn’t mind so much for myself but I’ll going to embarrass him,” Alina said.
“You mean General Kirigan,” Ivan said. “That you will shame him in front of the Imperial court.”
She nodded, the misery in her eyes, her pinched lips, the slump of her narrow shoulders in the black silk kefta, the weight of the Corecloth lining visible as it hadn’t been before. He felt her heart beating in her chest, the quickened pace of being found out.
“He would never be ashamed of you, to be seen with you,” Ivan said. “Not even if you looked as wan and plain as you seem to imagine and not like a fresh little wildflower amongst all these forced hothouse blooms.” If Fedya heard him now, Ivan would never hear the end of it…
“You’re just saying that.”
“I prefer to tell the truth,” he said. “It’s easier to keep track of than lies. Lies are tools. Telling you a lie would serve no purpose.”
“But I’m nothing like those women,” she said.
“You’re nothing like anyone. You’re the Sun Summoner and you’re the only Grisha to survive  to adulthood outside the Little Palace with their power suppressed in at least a generation. You’re an orphan who made a family for herself and a mapmaker who found her way home,” Ivan explained. “You must know how he looks at you. How he feels about you, how deeply he cares—”
“How deeply?” she asked, bold then, as she often was, but he knew what she risked to ask him the question.
“Without measure,” he said, unwilling to say anything more, to speak before the General had told her for himself.
“He hasn’t said—”
“He won’t see anyone but you when you enter the ballroom,” Ivan said. “I am not exaggerating for effect, I’ve had to plan for an extra security detail because of it.”
“You’re joking, you’re laughing at me,” Alina protested.
“He signed off on the additional oprichniki himself,” Ivan said.
“He did?”
“He’s General of the Second Army and the head of the Little Palace because he is most astute about risk and vulnerability. He would not allow his pride to endanger either of you,” Ivan said. The General had given him a long look when Ivan put the paper in front of him but he hadn’t argued.
“Thank you, Ivan,” she said. She straightened up and lifted her chin which meant he’d finally convinced her.
“You don’t need to thank me for telling you the truth,” he said.
“That’s your opinion,” she said, with some of the smartness she used with those she was closest to. He did not dislike it. “And that’s not why I thanked you.”
“No?”
“No. I thanked you for being kind when you didn’t need to be,” she said.
“I’m not often accused of being kind, especially not when I don’t need to be,” he replied.
“Who in their right mind would dare?” Alina said, finally, merrily, laughing.
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jomiddlemarch · 2 days ago
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Good people of tumblr I beg you to hear me.
I really need more people to be watching the Hulu series The Great.
I don’t normally do this because most things already have a fandom but I think more people would be watching this if they knew it was fandom material. Most importantly to me, I don’t know how to make gifs and I don’t want to learn, but I do want to look at ones that other people make.
(This is semi spoiler-y but mostly not.)
If words can’t convince you, maybe AO3 tags can.
SLOW BURN / ARRANGED MARRIAGE / ROYAL AU / MORALLY QUESTIONABLE / REVERSE MUTUAL PINING / LOVE TRIANGLE / LOVERS TO ENEMIES TO FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS
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and the SECOND SEASON IS ABOUT TO DROP.
I swear to god no one is paying me to say this I just want OTHER PEOPLE to make content for me to consume.
I will give you a brief overview of the first season if you aren’t already sold.
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Our protagonist is Catherine. Catherine is clever and naive and a little bit annoying but also a Queen (literally and figuratively). She comes to court already super in love with Emperor Peter and does everything for him even though he’s sort of a psychotic spoiled narcissist who acts like a little boy but also ~LOVES WHEN WOMEN~ and gives major HIMBO.
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Again, abusive psychopath.
Eventually she realizes how shitty he is (he really is! I’m not defending him, but I’m also NOT saying he’s NOT sexy). Have we culturally agreed yet that people can be morally abhorrent and still sexy? Not sure. I’ll go on.
Catherine and her friends plan to overthrow Peter and put Catherine in charge. Whether this is based in real history is beyond me. No clue. We both have google.
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Peter picks this guy ^ to be her lover so she’ll stop being depressed. He’s great, I don’t remember his name. Short king. They’re very cute and revolutionary together and eventually Peter gets jealous of him. Everyone wins.
(Honestly if more people watched this show I would love for there to be a rival ship who was super into this guy, however, I, personally, go for the psychopaths. )
There’s a bunch of other cool fun characters including :
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THIS GUY because apparently people still watch Doctor Who.
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And these two who are SEXY and MARRIED and BOTH in love with Peter.
I’ll make it simple for you:
In Season one Catherine makes plans to overthrow Peter, at the same time feeling confused about her feelings for him? Actually maybe she just hates him.
And did I mention? Peter starts out indifferent to her but she expands his heart and mind and he falls hard for her because she’s the only person who doesn’t worship him.
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You guys. Do I need to say more? I will.
In the trailer for the second season (no spoilers) it’s clear that now PETER’S GOAL WILL BE TO GET CATHERINE TO LOVE HIM BACK ❤️‍🔥
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go ! watch it ! the new season is out on November 19 and I don’t want to be the only person who cares please reblog this for my sake so maybe someone else will hang out on this ship with me thx so much bye ✌️
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jomiddlemarch · 2 days ago
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Games are the most elevated form of investigation
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“This is a stupid game, Fedya,” Ivan said, taking a long swallow of the ale left in his tankard, setting it back down on the table lightly, which startled David more than if he’d let it land with a thump. Or maybe David had been startled by Genya’s bright smile, her unabashed greed as she reached for the dish of lamb-filled buuz. It was hard to say and Fedyor, deliciously tipsy on his third glass of ale, didn’t care.
“You think all games are stupid, Vanyushka, so it doesn’t matter,” Fedyor said. Zoya, the darling girl, poured him a fourth glass, properly, without any foam. Ivan did something with his face that was supposed to indicate disapproval but it didn’t make a difference, because he was still adorable.
“Then this is the stupidest one,” Ivan said.
“Is that even a word, stupidest? Isn’t it most stupid?” Zoya said.
Keep reading
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jomiddlemarch · 2 days ago
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Everyone Charlotte Heyward meets in Sanditon is a vampire and that’s why the book is unfinished...
bored-at-work thought of the afternoon: which Austen hero would be most likely to be a vampire?
My gut says that though pop culture would try and make it Darcy, it really wouldn’t be, because he’d be so horrified at being undead and how this violates his moral principles he’d walk into sunlight. 
I think it would make the most sense for it to be Henry Tilney? Has the love interest most likely to either be incredibly chill with it or E X T R E M E L Y into it, has the bad dad who’d probably induct him into it, has an affiliation with a cool proper vampiric house in the form of Northanger Abbey, has a sarcastic sense of humor that helps him deal with being one of the legion of the damned, has the hunting dogs that would enable him to be a Twilight-vegetarian i.e. he drinks animal blood instead of human blood.
On the other hand, I do think it would be the sexiest and most fun to have Captain Wentworth as a vampire. He and Anne are already so aware of each other physically. Why not make it Gothic?
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jomiddlemarch · 3 days ago
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Games are the most elevated form of investigation
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“This is a stupid game, Fedya,” Ivan said, taking a long swallow of the ale left in his tankard, setting it back down on the table lightly, which startled David more than if he’d let it land with a thump. Or maybe David had been startled by Genya’s bright smile, her unabashed greed as she reached for the dish of lamb-filled buuz. It was hard to say and Fedyor, deliciously tipsy on his third glass of ale, didn’t care.
“You think all games are stupid, Vanyushka, so it doesn’t matter,” Fedyor said. Zoya, the darling girl, poured him a fourth glass, properly, without any foam. Ivan did something with his face that was supposed to indicate disapproval but it didn’t make a difference, because he was still adorable.
“Then this is the stupidest one,” Ivan said.
“Is that even a word, stupidest? Isn’t it most stupid?” Zoya said.
“It is most stupid,” Ivan agreed, as if Zoya had been supporting him. She’d rather just gossip, they all knew that, even if it had to do with the General, who was generally considered off-limits when it came to rumors and innuendo.
“I’m not listening to you, either of you, tra la la,” Fedyor said, ending with a trill. “What if—”
“What if we stopped playing this most stupid game?” Ivan interrupted.
“What if—” Fedyor tried again, undaunted and now frankly drunk. Ivan gave him a long, slow smile and Fedyor thought, fleetingly, that the game was stupid and Vanyushka, in their bed, in nothing but a sheet and the shadows and that entrancing smile, was the farthest thing from stupid, but there were principles to uphold, Fedyor was fairly certain he’d thought that around the second glass of ale and David looked puzzled and intent, as if the game were a problem to be solved, and Genya was still reaching for dumplings.
“What if what?” Genya asked through a mouthful of buuz.
“What if there had been two Sun Summoners for the General to choose between?” Fedyor said.
There was a unanimous groan as if he’d said what if Baghra were your mother, a degree of unity he hadn’t anticipated.
“That’s not a good what-if,” David (David!) declared. “Because there’s no tension when you try to come up with a response. It’s too easily resolved.”
“I don’t see how—” Fedyor said, but Genya talked over him, gesticulating dramatically. She didn’t seem to notice David sidling closer to her, within striking distance of her slender white hand.
“The General would have made sure to train them equally well and accommodate any discrepancies in their abilities. He’d have seen to it they were both completely loyal to the rest of the Grisha. He would have readied the Gaisma suite along with the Vezda, presented them at court at the same time, had identical keftas commissioned.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Fedyor said.
“He would have looked for more,” Zoya said. “Two means three, four, seven. It means being a Sun Summoner is simply rare and not unique.”
“He would have asked me whether they could Summon in tandem without an external equipment and then he would have asked me to build a device to multiply their power,” David said. “It’s an intriguing question, if you consider whether paired power amplification can ever match merzost and don’t only rely on Sankt Ilya’s writings…”
“I mean, about the General and Alina—” Fedyor tried again.
“Nothing would be different,” Ivan said. “He’d still, Saints help me, be in love with her—”
“Oh, Vanya’s right,” Genya said, David confident enough to nod along, his shoulder touching hers, just barely. “There’s no what-if that changes that, how he feels about Alina.”
“That’s crazy,” Fedyor said.
“No, it’s not,” Ivan said and now Zoya nodded along. “He doesn’t love her because she can Summon the light. Or the Sun, they’ve never made that part clear—”
“Then why?”
“Because she said no to him, when every other Grisha has said yes for as long as anyone can remember,” Zoya said, a little bitterly. It suited her, a little bitterness, but no one called her out for it. It wasn’t shameful to play to one’s strengths and she played so very beautifully and she had been the General’s favorite before that fateful crossing of the Fold.
“Because she is an artist, because she looks around her and draws what she sees. Because she sees what she draws,” Genya offered.
“Because she was willing to sacrifice everything for someone she cared about, even when they didn’t care for her the same way,” David said, shockingly au courant on Alina’s personal history for someone who barely left his workroom. “Because she was ready to go into the dark for her friend, when she had no idea she had any light within her.”
“Because she listens to him and sometimes, after he’s spoken, she laughs. At him,” Ivan said. “That’s why, Fedya. That’s why there’s no what-if to consider. There could be a thousand Sun Summoners. Alina has no rival for the General’s affections. Not in this world or any other.”
“Well, then, if you’re all so convinced you’re right, how about this? What if Baghra knew the General loved Alina with all his heart?” Fedyor said. Zoya and Genya grimaced and David closed his eyes for a moment, bowed his head as if in prayer. Ivan grunted, then pushed Fedyor’s glass away.
“This is supposed to be a fun game, miliyy,” Ivan said.
“What—" Fedyor said.
“Stupid can be fun. Nothing about Dame Baghra could ever be fun,” Ivan said. “Nor, for better or worse, could she ever be said to be stupid. If she knew how he felt—”
“If Baghra knew—” Genya echoed.
“It is not that incredible a scenario,” David said. “In fact, it’s one we should consider likely. And prepare for accordingly.”
“How can you prepare for the end of the world?” Ivan asked. David shrugged.
“That’s what I thought,” Ivan said. “But sealing that secret door to the General’s War Room would be a start.”
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jomiddlemarch · 3 days ago
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Resistance, a Helnik World War II AU started by @jomiddlemarch with this post, thanks for letting me continue with the war + Helnik + pregnancy prompt! And thanks for the brilliant beta-ing by @theburnbarreljester who is as invested as I am in making Matthias and Nina experience there-was-only-one-bed all around Europe. Chapter 6 posted today, aiming to wrap it up with 15 chapters total.
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jomiddlemarch · 5 days ago
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My Crescent Moon AU fic has the same number of kudos and comments right now (1075!) and I feel like that means something but I'm not sure what. 
Is a secret door going to suddenly appear? 
In any case, I’m very appreciative about both metrics!
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jomiddlemarch · 5 days ago
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Just watched The Age of Adaline and okay, there’s a lot to unpack there but mostly, I kept waiting for Adaline to seem remotely distressed that she was having a romantic relationship with the son of the guy she’d had one with, like, maybe I’m a prude but it skewed me out. The last name of both men is Jones, so you can’t exactly fault her for not catching it until he brings her home, but then...she stays. And sleeps with him after his father has started waxing rhapsodic about her.
My takeaway is that Michiel Huisman is so hot he basically incinerates any possible creep factor (that is also why he doesn’t immediately read like a stalker when he stalks her at the library.)
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jomiddlemarch · 6 days ago
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In my headcanon of Alina Starkov, this is found in her sketchbook. Depending on how canon-compliant *and* when in canon you stay, Aleksander has a variety of interesting reactions to seeing this drawing...
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Head of a Young Man, Filippino Lippi , second half 1400s, Cleveland Museum of Art: Drawings
Size: Sheet: 12 x 9.2 cm (4 ¾ x 3 5/8 in.); Secondary Support: 12 x 9.2 cm (4 ¾ x 3 5/8 in.); Tertiary Support: 17.3 x 14.4 cm (6 13/16 x 5 11/16 in.) Medium: point of brush and brown wash and brush and brown wash heightened with lead white
https://clevelandart.org/art/1968.19
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