Iwas_neverhere08



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  1. Public Bookmark 69

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    Ambedo
    (n.) A kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life, a mood whose only known cure is the vuvuzela.

    Draco always resented when Pansy called him dramatic, but he can swear the places where Potter held him burn like scalding brands, liquid Fiendfyre poured directly across his skin.

    Draco, he is learning, quite likes being warm.

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    29 Jun 2026

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    Harry didn’t even know what a soulmate was.

    He certainly didn’t have time to figure out the differences between muggle and wizarding puberty; what with the murderous teacher and three-headed dog in first year or the giant killer snake and teenage Voldemort in second year.

    So imagine his shock and surprise when he wakes on his thirteenth birthday to a name inking itself on his skin.

    A very familiar name.

    And the course of history changes.

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    13 Jun 2026

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    Shane and Ilya had mutually agreed to keep their whatever-they’re-doing out of Sochi. It was an easy decision to make: this was bigger than any MLH rivalry and definitely bigger than a few hotel hook-ups. There was no room for distractions, not with Olympic gold on the line.

    So it’d be really fucking great if their daemons could get on the same page and stop trying to cause an international fucking incident.

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    19 Apr 2026

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    Rozanov cocked his head. “You speak Russian? Or just the curse words?”

    “Yes, I speak Russian,” he snapped, defensive and angry. He knew that it had been a mistake to even try to be friendly with Rozanov. “Why? Do I not look Russian to you?” He scoffed.

    “No, not really,” Rozanov said. Some of his teammates laughed, although they mostly looked surprised that Shane was speaking to them at all. Rozanov didn’t laugh, though. “Are you Russian?”

    “Go fuck yourself.”

    +++

    Despite an inauspicious start, when Russia’s Ilya Rozanov learns that Canada’s Shane Hollander is fluent in Russian at their first World Junior Championships tournament, it changes everything and sets them on a different course. Instead of being branded as rivals from the very beginning, Ilya and Shane start off as friends.

    And, after all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, did it?

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    05 Apr 2026

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    “Fuck.” Shane melted into the strong hand at his neck, the pressure over his throat and the heat of the Alpha’s palm. “Fuck, that’s–” his eyes started to flutter closed, his knees going weak, but he heard the Alpha huff a laugh and immediately stiffened again. 

    “Don’t do that.” he warned. “Don’t laugh like me letting you put your hand on my throat is predictable submissive Omega behavior and you're making fun of me."

    “That is not why i was laughing.” Ilya squeezed Shane’s throat lightly, his thumb pressing over the suppressant patch covering the Omega's bonding spot and blocking his sweet scent. “I thought you would fight it, fight submitting. But you didn’t.”

    “No I–” Shane swallowed hard. “I like it.” 

    “Good.” Ilya smiled slow and a little dangerous, running his tongue over his bottom lip and then over the sharp ends of his fangs before he leaned in and growled into the Omega’s ear. “Now get on your knees.”

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    02 Apr 2026