#soltsar

MITSKI  LYRICS  .   /   not accepting!

how could he?  when there have always been others  ,  always somebody else in front of the line  ,  somebody else getting his shot before he did .  at first  ,  the tracker that clung to her like a second skin  ,  never leaving her out of sight in a way that has went a guard’s job from the get go  (  and ended with a bruised shin for the then-prince  )   and then the other king  ,  the man infested by darkness like a rotten corpse  ,  and yet with such an appeal that the fear of losing her to him has been as real as anything else   ,    the fear as real as losing himself again .  and then  ,   in the end  ,  when there has been no one left but him  ,   and he still held his breath because a life away from his was still an option she could have chosen  ,   still a prospect for her and that he would have let her take if it was what her heart desired   ,   what she longed for .  he would have never denied her anything  ,  knowing it has never been his place to make the call  ,  would have seen her leave him  ,  would have never claimed a place by her side .  the love inside of him that has been young back then  ,  a slowly growing thing that was still as fresh as spring flowers  ,   but now the torrent has took him away with her choice being to be at his side  ,  and all he could was bite his tongue on the constant to not blurt out what managed to grow into a wild forest inside of his chest  :  vines and flowers and trees and meadows all for her  ,  her  ,  her.  his recent history  ,  his past  ,  has shaped itself into him and her  /  the only constant to wind itself into his days  :  a fix-point in the sky  ,  planets aligning to always bring her back to him and vice versa .  the fox would follow her anywhere  ,  would bend and break for her!  but how could he have ever known it is the same in return   ,    a mere friendship having grown into more from her side as well! 

it comes out of nowhere. And there’s a bit of force there. Not necessarily from anger directly at him as far as he could tell but anger at something. His jaw throbs from where her knuckles made contact. Stray strands of hair falling over his brow as he spun right back around and faced her, gun immediately pulled from his waist and aimed at her temple. Metal kissing skin. Annoyance just reaching the surface now. 

ALINA ( @soltsar ) & FREDERICK.  |   THE  SUN  AND  THE  STAG.

he did not think he cared about anyone the way he cared about her. and it was no secret. not to her, not to him, and certainly not the rest of the world. after all this time between them, he still remembered the light cascading past the walls of his rooms like it was yesterday, could swear he could still see pity in the other’s faces whenever he picked her up from her lessons at the lake. ( that handsome healer and his odd, odd ways, why would it be her he finally showed signs of caring for? and why would she turn to him, at all? ) it all seemed ages ago, like it hasn’t just been months, but instead an eternity. he has ached for her every single day in her absence, for the first time in his life wondering if someone like her could love someone like him. his ruins could built a cathedral for her, no doubt, but his cruelty could take it down all the same. alina was a light and a force, the sun itself couldn’t shine as bright as her, and every moment away from her light hurt like a cut coming from darkness itself.

his gray eyes were calm when he looked at her, a sureness radiating off of them that betrayed nothing of the agonizing hours on his own in the palace, then on the road. “i would die for you, alina, that i am certain of. i am not the only man who would and you do not need to hear another sad man’s prayer.” a clarity tinges his voice then, as he continues. “but i also know that i love you. and i love no one like you. i wouldn’t know how to.” he hid so much of himself from the world, but with her there was no hiding. there never would be. she struck him blind the moment he met her; by his own surprise. “and i want all of you, every single part of you. there will never be anybody else. i would never want anybody else.”

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴀʙʏ sᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ!

@soltsar // forever accepting!

        HIS SMILE WAS VIBRANT AND LUMINOUS alike a full moon on a clear starless sky. Who could ever believe that such a dark presence could ever share such brightness of soul? THE BLACK HERETIC. What has he known in this long life but darkness and despair? FEAR and terror had a tight grip on his childhood until he vowed he would be afraid no more. The days when grisha would hide like rats with their lives dangling over a thin rope would be over. Many had taken these oaths, most of them were men of vision. But only ONE managed to make them real, assuming shape and form. A MONSTER. Clad in black and concealed by night’s cloak, his symbol was a sun in eclipse for appearances were important and left a strong impression behind. He had shaped an imperial fantasy around his very existence, some days it almost fell true as if everything was not a carefully sculpted lie by experienced hands. THE VILLAIN. She had long ago blamed all wrongs on him yet he never complained. He was ATLAS REBORN, his shoulders still strong to carry all the weight of the world. Yet he was only human, brilliant, talented, burdened by lengths of endless eternity. However, a villain only served himself whilst Aleksander only meant to serve the grisha. Was he at war for so long that he failed to determine a real battle from a harmless one any more?

             His chest was heavy as she laid against him, her tiny hand pressed over his heart as if she could sense its frantic beat. How could a creature born such ugliness, such DARKNESS could turn so beautiful and luminous? Identical grey eyes gazed at him with unusual calmness for a small child and Aleksander felt an invisible chain inside him strengthening, tieing him to her very existence and her every breath. It was her giggle that made his lips move upwards as her small fingers reached out to fist through his raven locks, giving them a clumsy tug.    “  Ouch— she got this from you. What is wrong with the females of this family and my hair?   ”   He voiced his thoughts, his cool gaze traveling over the room to the sun summoner that was sitting by the fireplace, hair shimmering like molten silver. He had not taken notice of his skin and how it mirrored a cherubic glimmer as if sunlight was bathing him in its splendor. Yet it was not entirely surprising either. 

            THEY WERE BOUND, the sun summoner and the darkling, creating a never-ending cycle. Some would dare say they were an ALCHEMICAL WEDDING of silver and gold made flesh. A reversed one, for there should be a Moon Queen, terrifying with her face shadowed like a moon eclipsed by the sun, and the golden Sun King, waiting to be awoken by his lover who would give him the wings of a dove so that he might fly to the heavens.   ‘  Turn to me with all your heart. Do not refuse me because I am dark and shadowed. The fire of the sun has altered me, the seas have encompassed me and the earth has been corrupted because of my work. NIGHT FELL over the earth when I sank into the mirry deep,   ’    the Moon Queen would say in the old scriptures, a prophesy perhaps written wrong yet being true. And out of this BOND, their powers shifted and altered and the shadow summoner could thus call to the light whilst the sun summoner could master the dark. LIKE CALLS TO LIKE.  But what was the outcome of this alchemical wedding? After it came conception and then birth, yet however hard Aleksander would attempt to recall the details, he could not. Had the arrival of their children been foretold as well?

              At the sound of her voice, his gaze would travel down his skin in wonder, the content in his wise orbs being shadowed by troubling thoughts. Was this their child’s doing? Was she summoning the glimmer on his skin as a profession of her devotion? Or was this the outcome of two AMPLIFIERS coming together?      “  Perhaps…. she is calling to my power. The one I got from you… because she can feel you in this light.   ”   A mere speculation for the girl was still so young and albeit her powers had manifested extremely early they were forever shifting and no one could foresee the outcome, not even him.     “   Perhaps she... does not like my darkness.    ”

MITSKI  LYRICS  .   /   not accepting!

teeth sit on edge  ,  jawline a cutting line from the tension building inside of him .  there has been an awaited explosion  ,  a moment where he knew she would draw the line the way she always did  :  stubborn  ,  ferocious  ,  fire burning brightly .  she casts rays that are meant to strike  ,  cascading between them whenever she rises her voice at him   ,   whenever she gives him a venomous tone and sharp eyes .  (  maybe you deserve it  ,  maybe this is what you get when taking her from the only refuge she would have known  .   she has always been a soldier  /   a reckoning,  why did you want to make her a queen?  )  how do you love a broken thing   ,  how do you love each other without breaking further  .   a thought he could not abstain from as he stands across from her   ,   looking at her with enough pain and guilt to fill an ocean    ,   to turn his eyes as dark as hers from the anguish alone .   this is warfare    ,   warfare between two people  ,  and it tears into him like a knife into the neck    ,   like a bullet to already marred skin .   her words could kill him right now!  her words cut him where it was meant to hurt!  when he tried to give her something comfortable  ,  tried to give her a retreat after this war  ,  this final sacrifice  ,   he did not know how to give her what he wanted her to have without overwhelming her .  so  ,  he turned to what he knew  :   the emerald first  ,  other things soon following if she mentioned them in passing or he felt them suitable for her .  after all  ,  his family’s expenses could be used for something else than the usual carelessness he did not indulge in . let him use what he had left to give her something that would make this promise to him easier  .  how blind of him to not see how it hurt her .

MITSKI  LYRICS  .   /   selectively accepting!

she is a vision   :     night blue and burned golden and hot white and not one inch of her to be looked away from .  and he follows that  ,   eyes transfixed on her figure and unable to do anything but look . but take her in and swim in the picture in front of him , swim in the sun and the way she stands in front of him  ,  enough to render him to nothingness   /    render him speechless . breath hitched in his throat   ,    swallowing hard as his right hand finds its way up to his mouth  ,  biting down on his thumb to keep himself from blurting out whatever finds space first in the emptiness of his mind   ,   the current void treacherous in producing words that could not be profitable with other pairs of ears around  (  and there are always other pairs around  )  and yet he can’t help the dazed smile to take over his face from beneath the his hand’s palm .  gaze rakes up and down  ,  taking in the way the fabric clings to the summoner’s body perfectly with every shift  ,  like currents ripping through water   .   one and the same  .  and he should not feel so surprised  ,  so put on the spot  ,  when he has seen her in many different attires and without anything at all    ;   but he can’t get himself to feel less agitated. especially when she looks at him like she does now  ,   all dark eyes and expectant eyebrows  ,  having awaited his reaction  ,  and her voice cuts straight to the chase   ,    directly to his core .   he is an open wound and she tears him apart    /   he’d let himself bleed dry for her .   lands would fall for her  ,  rulers would damn themselves for her  ,  churches put up in her name  ;  a king on his knees for her   ,    more than once.   and when she would walk into a room like she did now   ,   each and every one would beg for her mercy.  (  oh  ,   and he loves that .   knows that she loves it , too.  )

MITSKI  LYRICS  .   /   not accepting!

sunlight sweeps through the glass of the pavilion   ,   now empty of the usual grisha that train and hone their powers here   ,   and the evening is quiet   /   nearly serene   ,    if one would so incline .   and it reminds him of their almost kiss   ,   and his almost promise   ,   and her full understanding of what both of them meant    ,    and what accepting one of them would mean .  not even for her  ,  but for the country they both care about .  it is the only thing he could give her  ;  to help both of them be less alone through the company of a friend  ,  to let them both work towards something they want .  it is better than offering nothing  ,   better than offering condolences for a man who has never been more than an almost friend to him  /  and who still despised him  ,  really  ,  till the end. he was made of platitudes  ,   perfected the use of them to a masterful performance  ,  but he could not pull them out of his throat around her  ,  could not let himself be meaningless around her .  the air needed to be filled with depth and with weight  ,   with water crushing into the still sea and with the sun playing games on the waves to either entertain the sailors or drive them mad ,  with significance .  he could not let obscurity fill their time  ,   not when his heart yearned for something concrete  ,   for a place in her life that was not bound to their rehearsed vows and the decorated gold sitting atop their heads   (   metaphorically  ,   if he’d have to wear a crown daily  , he’d have stuck to the sea once and for all  )  .   he continues to want more from her than she should feel expected to give him  ,   he wants the fire and the burn and the warmth  ,  the entangled heat and the light cascading from walls and waterfalls .  he wants her love  ,  wants to feel worthy of it  ,  wants to be engulfed and drowned in it   /   he wants his feelings to be reciprocated.

the air is warm from the summer   ,   his birthday nearing soon  (   and a horrible anniversary to accompany it that he does not think about  )   ,   but it makes staying outdoors for as long as he wants possible   ,   always one to seek out the nature surrounding the palaces to find solace   /   to find some space away from the business he has to account for everyday .  a good opportunity to warm up the habit of taking walks with her again   ,    something he missed during their first few weeks here  ,  for their uneasiness around each other has made most interaction a short-lived and odd affair that felt unreal compared to the warm and easy friendship that grew between them during the war    ,    before she accepted his proposal .  he still thinks about what she would have done if she hadn’t   ,   how he’d let her go   ,  emerald and all   ,  if it would have made her happier.  how he would have taken everything he laid out and buried it in the garden   ,   of the grounds and of his mind   ,   and rendered himself void of anything that went down between them .  if it would have made her happy  ,   he would have done it and more so   ,   he would have done anything  .   but she is here now  ,  has chosen this path for herself   ,   and once she speaks into their shared silence he feels to get a grasp of it  ,  of the why .  

she flings herself at him with as much momentum as the literal sun, even more if one would ask him, and the light flies right into his arms, falls into him like the rays of the sun sweep into the deep blue water of the open sea during clear days, being swallowed by the waves at the end of every day. these waves take that light and its warmth and hide it away for the night, keep it away from the preying darkness and reflect the littered ink of the stars into their waters and to everyone out there, giving the light enough watchers to look after her when it gets too dark for her and the waves keep her safe. she falls upwards, upwards, upwards and into his arms and he holds her by her waist, hazel gaze blowing into a happiest of mirrors, so alive and so full of mirth and filled by her warmth. her mouth crashes onto his, lips as warm as he always imagined and he is surprised by every time, surprised by his pure sprout of luck, and he kisses her right back. lips move against hers, opening up and inviting her in, the smile breaking his mouth into a harbour for everything she is willing to pour out for him. the movement is languid and sweet somehow, despite the rush that she used to claim his mouth as hers   ⸺    as is intended to, as he welcomes      ⸺   and he can feel his fingers press into the lower part of her back, even through the blue fabric of her kefta. the material is so light under his hands that it is like pressing the pads of his fingers into her skin and he can’t get enough of this, he can’t get enough of her, he never will. he will never tire and he will never falter and he will always welcome her with open arms. and he will kiss her. oh, how often as he can. answering her kisses is the sweetest currency to exchange, the sweetest thrill, and it lets all the darkness in him fade into the background. when her hands are on his face, on his cheeks, and she holds him and kisses him   ⸺     to be loved is to be saved, to be celebrated.

it involuntarily makes him think back to when he denied himself his first chances of this, their first chances; to wait for her decision for him or another man. there had been no agony there, not in the way one would assume from the prince who got handed it all, who never knew how it is to live with nothing or with less. there had been no cruelty, he could not muster it up for her even if he tried for days and days and days. she is the sun personified, her magnificence as radiant as her journey into it, and he would have waited forever, he thinks. he would have waited forever for an answer; he counts it his biggest victory that she chose him. not a day goes by that he does not feel like a king more than anything when she looks at him, when she kisses him, when her hand finds his with a touch more searing even through his gloves. never did he feel more powerful, more like the man he was intended to be, when her fingers grace his naked back or find his neck and anchor him there, when he is on the verge of sinking into unconsciousness and dreams, and she keeps him from falling again, again, again. in his dreams, he plummets from the skies or sees everyone who plummeted into a hard fall for him ; and it hurts. but this, this right here, with her willingly giving him all she has and him giving her everything of him, every part and mask and even his innerst secrets of trespassed darkness, this is a different kind of falling. one he is not afraid of.  ( foxes do not fear. )