morbidi_tea



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Russians do not blush. Russians do not get sick. Ilya gets concussions. He gets stitches. He skates on cracked ribs and calls it fine. He does not get sick. Which is why, when he wakes up at three in the morning in the middle of June, shaking so hard his teeth knock together, his first instinct is irritation.

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    24 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 6

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    Harrowhark is used to pain and routine; deviation from expectation is difficult. Gideon wants to have a future with her lover that isn't fraught with injury and punishment. Compromise comes in the most unlikely of places, and they're nothing if not adaptable

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    04 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 14

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    She can see it in his face, hear it in his voice: a thawing, a fractional lowering of his guard at the reminder that there's no one else in the room right now. No audience, no jury, no one stood with their hands outstretched, waiting impatiently for him to place in their palms a simpler version of himself, one with all the edges sanded off. An elevator pitch, an abstract, an unbridled vastness whittled down to something more easily digestible. No one in this room is asking him to be anything other than his peculiar, prismatic self, one-half the man everyone else expects him to be and the other an endless tumble of cheerful contradictions. Right now, in this room, there's just Camilla, who's only ever held him in her hands like a priceless first-edition: untranslated, unabridged. Unapologetically well-loved, too, judging by all the ballpoint pen she's left scribbled in the margins of his life over the years. And she loves him, she loves him, she loves h—

    "Palamedes," she says, then. Slowly, carefully, enunciating every syllable. This is still new. She'd hate to scare it off before it even has a chance to find its legs. "Are you… curious, at all, about— pronouns?"

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    24 Jan 2026