alana-ivashkov-blog

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

thaddeus-spaulding‌:

The quest had been futile as Thaddeus left another store empty handed down the main street in town.  Carols echoed from many of the stores as he strolled down the pavement.  It felt like Christmas was just around the corner, though he still had a few weeks to find a decent present.  Stepping into another store he was positive if he had to listen to one more festive song, he might forget his pacifist ways and strangle someone. He sighed out of frustration as he went down an aisle, “what do you even get a twenty-year old girl?”  He asked aimlessly not paying attention to the fact there was someone next to him.

“Shoes were always my brother’s go-to, which hit the mark every time. But he would raid my closet before my birthday and pick from the same designers, because god knows I would have had an attitude if handed something like a Steve Madden.” Alana replied, shuddering at even the thought. Adrian and her hadn’t lived in the same house for very long, the age difference getting in the way, but she had so many fond memories of him going above and beyond for her birthday. Birthdays were special, another year well lived, and wherever she was in the world she flew home to spend them with her family. Something much more sincere about getting handed car keys on your sixteenth birthday than getting it mailed. 

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

swyur‌:

sawyer !

            SUPPOSE  HE  PULLED  OUT  HIS  WALLET  AND  PAID  FOR  THE  NECKLACE      .     Suppose  he  kept  it  on  display  in  his  condo      ,     not  a  neck  to  wear  it  as  it  remained  untouched      .      Suppose  he  got  bored     ,     like  he  always  did      .      Suppose  he’d  stolen  it  instead      .     Regardless  of  the  choices  made     ,    the  ending  would’ve  remained  the  same      ;      with  his  eyes  falling  upon  something  ELSE  he’d  consider  alluring      .     Pretty     .     He  always  wanted  what  he  couldn’t  have      :     Sawyer  Monroe      .     ❛     I  don’t  pay  for  beautiful  things     .     S’enough  for  me  to  just  look      .     ❜     Liar     .     His  lips  curved  in  asymmetry     ,     a  side  smile  beginning  to  form  as  he  buried  his  hands  in  his  pockets    .     ❛     Reckon  the  owners  might  not  be  too  happy  ‘bout  it   .      ❜

"Just to look?” She repeated, her eyebrows raising. Now that was something she couldn’t relate to. Pretty things were alluring, they called for her not just to look but also to own. Possession was important, anyone could just look at a diamond in a store front, but owning that diamond was something of a power trip. It was a confirmation of power, of prestige. People didn’t buy Birkins because they were especially pretty or interesting to look at, they bought them to ensure everyone around them knew just who the fuck they were. Alana had lived in the world of the rich and famous her whole life, that materialistic nature wasn’t going to leave her even in this small time. “I never can seem to admire something without making it mine in the end.” She said, waving over the store associate and pointing at the necklace. “Perhaps it’s a character flaw.” She smiled as the diamonds were draped around her neck and the credit card plucked from her fingers. “Does it look good?” She asked innocently, knowing goddamn well that it did. Nothing like a few diamonds to brighten up her day.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

inkedvixcn‌:

Kat paused, lips parting slowly as the realization trickled over her. Oh, she was just a fan. The last indication of the spotlight was ruled by a drunken idiot at a bar – met with the crunch of her fist. She softened a bit, edges still sharp as the brunette leaned back in her chair. Her son paid no attention to them, hands captured over her cell phone over a cheap cellphone game. Kat glanced aside once before drawing towards Alana. Shame was an easy friend to shake. “I didn’t realize you were a fan.” Kat said, brushing a hand beneath her nose. “Sorry. You wouldn’t imagine the shit some people say to me.” 

"I’d imagine it gets...graphic.” Alana grimaced. Though the woman’s line of work was intriguing, Alana couldn’t envision a single scenario where she could do it. She wasn’t exactly a prude, but she had been raised with some rather Victorian ideals. The one commanding rule was to never bring shame on the Ivashkov name, and while Alana had experienced her fair share of  blunders, she had always had the foresight to clean them up before they got back to the gossip mill or worse, her father. Alana had been the crown jewel in her father’s eye, and there would have been hell to pay if the crown jewel had gotten tarnished. “Do you ever get used to it?” She asked, unsure on what the it even was.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

Anyone catch your eye in town?

I’m fond of pretty things, probably because I was completely spoiled as a child. There are a lot of pretty things in this town.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

The blonde witch’s eyes drifted open with the rising sun, a stray beam of light warming her cheek and alerting her to the presence of the morning, and to the presence of someone else in her bed. A slender arm reached down to where two pairs of heels had been thrown in a hurry last night, and plucked a shirt from the pile--not hers, but it would do. Slipping it on over her head, she rolled over to face the woman. Her limbs stretched over the sheets, cherry lips pursed in a natural pout, and eyes that were closed right now, but that Alana remembered to be a  soft green. Seems that the many drinks and pinch of coke hadn’t clouded her judgement the slightest. Her hand, tipped with lavender nails, stroked the woman’s cheeks until those soft green eyes fluttered open. They gazed at each other for a second, content in the comfort of waking up after a satisfying night, until Alana’s lips, stained with the lipstick from last night, parted. “I don’t cook.” @lovetrixiie

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

what's your opinion of cayden given his relationship with your brother?

Adrian’s beaus have always been of the beautiful, dramatic, and powerful type. I don’t know who’s playing who in that relationship, but what I do know if that it’s better for me and my coven if the vampire feels some sort of loyalty--wouldn’t go so far as to call it love. He’s useful. That’s all I care about, though I’m sure Adrian would say different. 

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

If there was anyone you could take out, who would it be?

Take out as in on a date or with a gun? After seeing her work, I couldn’t help but to answer @inkedvixcn to the former, and with a gun, no one yet. Everyone has a use, and nobody’s pissed me off that royalty just yet.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

swyur‌:

SAWYER.

                  LIGHT  FINGERS  REACHED  TO  BRUSH  ALONG  A  GLASS  FIXTURE     .       He  was  struck  with  a  sudden  rush  of  affection     .      She  was  right      .      They  WERE  pretty  little  things     .        ❛     Only  when  they  like  me  back        .       ❜        His  lips  curled  upward     ,      the  arch  of  a  single  brow  showing  off  his  carefree  attitude     .         ❛     Shiny  things  never  lie     .      Never  cheat       .       Gives  ya  just  as  much  attention  as  ya  give  it       .      There’s  a  reason  they  cost  so  much      ,      huh      ?      ❜      He  scrunched  his  nose      ,     brushing  away  his  words  with  a  wave       .        ❛     But  I’m  preachin’  to  the  choir      ,      huh       ?      You  were  in  here  before  me     .      ❜

"Preaching to the choir.” She agreed, her fingers trailing across the jewels he was so enamored with. “Are you going to buy one? It’s a small price to pay for beauty, eh?” She asked, holding one of the diamond necklaces to his neck. When the diamonds picked up on the sunlight just right, the beams would go dancing around the room, like magic made from her fingers without any input of power. She had always had a weakness for pretty things, and he seemed like he did too.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

blindwarlock-killian‌:

Mordecai sighed, moving to collect the books into a pile. “So that gives you a pass to act like a spoiled child?” The man mused, not expecting an answer as he picked up the books in one hand and grabbed his cane in the other. If the woman wanted to act like a child about her own immature behavior so be it. Mordecai had thought the Ivashkov bloodline would have proven to be smarter, hell maybe even a threat…but the woman’s behavior proved otherwise. It was just another coven that was bound to eat itself from the inside out. “More I was just stating a fact, but I digress.” Mordecai replied, tapping his cane as he walked towards the book cart to set his books down. “I will leave you to your reeding.”

Alana tilted her head, appraising the now-standing warlock. She was spoiled, of that there was no question, but he underestimated her, she could she it in his body language and the way he spoke to her like she wasn’t just spoiled, but foremost a child. It was...fine. Not fine, but it was tolerable. She was the baby of the family, has been treated her whole life as the second fiddle and overlooked for her more accomplished older siblings. Spoiled and inexperienced but not downright brainless. Holier-than-thou Mordecai acting like he had never let frustration get to him before. She held her tongue, through years of practice, but was undoubtedly seething on the inside. “Thank you Mr. Killian, have a good afternoon.” She said sweetly, letting her youthful charm mask the vexation inside. Underestimating her was always a mistake, and she wagered he would learn that soon enough.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

inkedvixcn‌:

It was the second time someone referenced being in the spotlight, both causing her veins to freeze at the sudden mention. Her gaze hardened as she stared at the blonde across the table. Even powerful, the brunette showed no sense of fear from the witch. Her tongue slid over her front teeth as if she was gauging her venom. “Can’t say I do.” Kat said, her voice lowering as she leaned forward on the table. “If you so much as reference what I do in front of my son again, I’ll be sure you burn.”

Alana’s eyebrows raised in genuine surprise at the other woman’s sudden anger, not understanding how she had stepped the line. “I thought I was being rather clandestine.” She said, keeping her voice soft in spite of her arrogance calling for fire and brimstone. Alana was ever the diplomat, and part of that was knowing how to keep a cool head when in the presence of fiery ones. “Am I allowed to say I appreciate your art?” She asked, still a hint of good humor in her voice despite the other woman’s anger.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

blindwarlock-killian‌:

There was a moment of hesitation before Mordecai responded, the man using the shadows and his hearing to ensure they were alone. His darkness concluded that they were the only ones in the section of the library and the main librarian had taken a break. Mordecai sighed softly, shoulders sagging slightly as he gave the smallest shake of his head. “And all I need is the smallest portion of your blood to break it.” Mordecai replied, straightening his back a little as he spoke. “Foolish to give away such secrets to someone you do not know, Ms. Ivashkov. Just as foolish to openly speak of such thing without care of who or what could be listening.” Mordecai reached for one of the books, opening it and flicking through the brailled pages as if he was bored with the woman. “Not only are you putting yourself at risk, but also all those who are in your coven or identify as your kind.”

It was condescending, but it was true and Alana knew when to accept fault, even if it was in the smallest of ways like holding back a roll of her eyes. She needed to shake off the feeling that she would never learn anything from anyone now that her father was gone, as there were witches and warlocks in this world that knew far more than her, if she could just let down her pride for a second to admit it. In the realm of magic, Alana wasn’t a novice, but she had stopped practicing, stopped learned after her father had died. He had trained her since birth, to practice magic without him felt wrong. But she couldn’t lead a coven without using her innate power, even if it technically wasn’t her leading it at all. “This town knows about my family, there’s not a soul in the building who thinks I’m any sort of normal. Which I know because of the border spell across the door. Learned that from being trapped in this town. It’s you, me, two of my coven members, and the librarian who I believe is a wolf. Unless you’re planning on attacking me I feel moderately safe.” She said, her voice apathetic. She should have cared to explain herself better, but this faerie thing, the fear of the unknown was getting to her. “Apologies if you felt I was putting you at risk.” There was the slightest bit of irony that she couldn’t help but to let seep out.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

isaaclandon‌:

Isaac lifted a brow, his annoyance becoming full blown amusement at her negligent words. “And once again, your family continues to disappoint me.” He shouldn’t have left any of them alive to continuing breeding, not when this was the best they could create. “You’ve answered my question then, for you certainly lack the knowledge you need.” She had absolutely no idea who he was, or what he’d done, and he was on the verge of open laughter at her ignorance. “If only big brother was here to save you from something so dreadfully embarrassing.” 

“Absolutely bone chilling.” Alana said, eyes flaring in mock consternation. “If you’re going for all-powerful, old as dirt warlock with nothing to lose, then you’ve just about hit it on the spot. Congratulations.” As if she needed Adrian to save her from anything, least of all the threat of getting embarrassed. There were worse things to be and Alana very rarely had any sense of shame. “Are you the King of England? Is that what’s gotten you all worked up? My apologies, your Majesty.” Perhaps she could have toned down on the sarcasm, but she didn’t exactly feel like being blindly revenant to a man who she knew nothing about.  

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

lukeherveaux‌:

The woman was educated, persuasive in her tone and even a bit compelling. If nothing else, she had Lukas’s attention from the very moment her pink lips parted, and she began her discourse. But the Alpha was no fool, he knew every meeting had pure intention behind it; this witches only intention was for her coven. “Ms. Ivashkov, I do appreciate you scheduling a meeting with me.” The wolf begins, settling in his own seat as his hands move to rest atop his desk. “But I’ll have to be honest, your brother–and his coven,” Pausing, he chose his next words carefully. “–have never been high on my list of priorities. Surely you can understand that my pack has never been senseless enough to trust in a warlock’s or witches word.” Unlike his kind, they weren’t known for their undying loyalty. “Thus, if the flames come as you stated–my pack watches only our own back.” There were secrets, histories of the town that was better left at rest and it seemed Alana was only now realizing such truths. “But I wouldn’t worry so much about those who howl, I mean if I were you, my attention would be on the fangers. Your brother seems decently fond of them.” Not an insult, just an oversaturation as Lukas wondered just how much she knew of her elder sibling’s affairs.  

His coven. Like she hadn’t been reminded of that fact since the moment her father was cold in the ground. The Ivashkov coven had always been ruled by the men of the coven, which had never seemed like a problem until it was her turn to be the sidekick sitting on the bench. She had to smile, otherwise she was afraid she’d start screaming. Alana Ivashkov had not been made for the sidelines. “I’m not asking for blind trust.” That would have been a fool’s errand, the lines between her species and his had been drawn in the sand long before either of them were born, and they were too deep to be erased now. “I’m asking for no rash decisions. Whatever those women are, or claim to be, they’re something this town has not encountered in a very long time. And where new shiny toys appear, the children start to squabble. While I’m not in any terms calling your wolves or my witches children, the fact remains that these...faeries have power. And lust for power can be consuming. Dangerous.” Lord, did she know that well. Knowledge of the corrupting influence of power was the only thing keeping her head on straight, for now. She couldn’t help her pretty eyes from rolling at his fangers comment as a smile spread over her face, acknowledging the hint of a joke. “My brother has opted for the more...intimate diplomatic approach. Forgive me if I didn’t see it fit to go the same route with you.” She grinned, her smile lighting up the room like a ray of sunshine after a rainstorm. It was funny, in such important talks to be dancing around the subject of her brother’s sex life, because as much as Alana tried to emulate her father, in times like this she couldn’t help but to laugh. 

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

blindwarlock-killian‌:

The one thing Mordecai didnt understand was how open everyone was with what they were in this god forsaken town…it was not only dangerous for the individual, but put the whole community in danger. Mordecai had been researching into the history of the town when he felt the book his fingers were running over suddenly chill, a different book hitting his pile and sending it tumbling. A flicker of anger danced in Mordecai’s blind eyes before it was pushed back down with a sigh, the man pressing his hands along his books to try to reorganize them. “This being a library, I suggest you take such tantrums outside….” Mordecai hummed, fingers wrapping around the book the woman had thrown and feeling a zing of magic. A grimoire….the woman was openly reading this in public? His magic hissed to charm it, to make unreadable to punish the woman but instead he held it out towards the direction of the woman. “I believe this is yours?”

"Apologies.” Alana sighed, her frustration slowly dissipating as she took her grimoire back and helped stack Mordecai’s books back up into the pile she had inadvertently destroyed. It was so careless, a burst of anger that betrayed the usual calmness she portrayed on the outside. Her father would have disapproved. Him being dead had nothing to lessen his voice in her head, always quick to tell her when she was acting unbecoming for an Ivashkov witch. She noticed the slight pause when the warlock had touched her grimoire, the shadow of displeasure that had danced across his face. It was like her father was back here not only in spirit, but also in body. “It’s coded.” She said, waving the grimoire. “You need Ivashkov blood to read the text. Irresponsible to take it out, I understand. But it’s coded.” She repeated, trying to shake off the feeling of naivety.

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

touchfeared‌:

Roy blinked, frost twinged at the edge of his lashes. He blinked against the sudden chill. Christ, he was sick of the amount of supernatural in the town already. His hand rose from the table, one of the few spots near the table that was unscathed by the layer of frost. He swiped a hand from his white peppered brows to his chin with a groan. “Can we not have one conversation without you turning into Elsa?” Roy said, a grin twitched at the edge of his lips. He might complain, but he still enjoyed her company. 

“Oi.” She warned, raising her eyebrows at him. “One more Elsa quip and you can kiss your supply of perfectly free ice cream goodbye.” She snapped her fingers and the frost mostly receded except from where it hung from his hair, held in suspension and kept from melting. Her pinky raised, filling out the snowflakes on his eyebrows until she was satisfied with the result. “Now that you have your disguise go seduced one of those faerie things. I need information.” She groaned, only half joking. 

[alana-ivashkov-blog]

isaaclandon‌:

The Ivashkov children had always proven to be annoyances, and now was evidence of just such. Isaac peered over at her from the top of the book now encrusted with glittering ice, a sigh leaving parted lips in a way that told he had very little patience for someone lacking control of their magic. With one slow swipe of his hand, the ice vanished into a glittering mist, Isaac then turning his full attention on the girl with a raised brow and slightly pursed lips. “Are you always this dreadfully inattentive to both your studies and your abilities?”

"Are you always this supercilious to women who couldn't care less about your opinion in matters that don’t concern you?” Alana said with a sweet smile and some bitingly sarcastic sass. She had noted the wave of the hand to dissipate her accidental icing, and therefore noted that he was not of the mortal variety, but had dealt with many a pissy warlock in her day, including both her father and brother. God knew Adrian had thrown some of the biggest temper tantrums ever seen in a grown man, it had been enough to prepare her for whoever the hell this warlock thought he was.