#Safin fanfiction

[crewman-penelope]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lyutsifer Safin & Original Female Character(s), Lyutsifer Safin/Reader Characters: Lyutsifer Safin, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Movie: No Time to Die (2021), Grief/Mourning, Tragic Romance, artist, Muse - Freeform, Slow Burn, Obsession, Canon-Typical Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unhealthy Relationships, Codependency Summary:

She sent away her heart on the shores of her childhood. Now, years later, she finds that someone has brought it back to her in blood-stained hands.

[fitzsimp]

there’s honestly nothing i love more than finishing a tv show/movie/book with an established fandom and getting to read the insane amount of fics it has

like i’ve just finished watching shadow and bone and i am being FED

[kasagia]

Can't catch me now... pt. 2

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling xgrisha! reader Summary: The Hunger Games in Ravka. 12 districts. 12 tributes. 12 mentors. 11 young people die every year. 1 winner. Aleksander was a mentor to many. But only your face will haunt him for centuries. Inspired by: The Hunger Games. I changed the world of both of them a bit. Word Count: 4,4 k Taglist: @flostvs1508 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @aoi-targaryen @summersummoner-pat @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @msblacklupin Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist PART 1 ~•♤♤♤•~

"You look like death. Have you even slept an hour?" You shrug at Genya's question. The woman sighs and works on your face to make you presentable. "The general was furious. He's a good man, despite everything they say about him. You have to understand that... he didn't expect this turn of events, and his stoic attitude was violated. I swear, this is the second time I've seen him lose his cool. And I've been here since I was a child."

"When was the first time?" You ask curiously, not believing her for a moment. You couldn't trust anyone here. You could only count on yourself and no one else. You missed Alina a lot.

"I will tell you this with a complete twist. Anyway, if someone asks, you didn't know it from me. 40 years ago, in the Hunger Games, the General was... asked to be a mentor. Her name was Luda. She was brave and beautiful, with a good heart and a pure soul. She was a healer in her village. She volunteered. In exchange for her younger sister."

"And what happened? He scared her with his shadows because she was a vegetarian and didn't want to eat meat to get stronger?" You mock, as she is making final amendments to your look.

"She died." An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Genya was blindly combing your hair, obviously thinking about her. You could see from the look in her eyes that she must have been especially close to this tribute. "She was... close to the general. He had been mourning her death for a very long time. And I don't want to spread rumours, but the tribute who killed her and won the Hunger Games was found hanging in the forest near his home village. His family was soon convicted of conspiring against the crown and hanged in a more… spectacular way."

"I feel like you're not telling me this just to satisfy my curiosity." You guess as she finally pulls away from you.

You don't know what's worse, when she fixes your face with her strange power or when she looks at you intently, looking for something else to improve your appearance. You weren't used to caring THAT much about yourself. Because who would want to look at an orphan?

"I just want to warn you that��� our choices don't necessarily affect only us." You roll your eyes at her attempt at intimidation. Of course. He couldn't make you do anything himself, so he sent his minions to convince you. Quite pathetic, like for the terrible Darkling, who everyone feared.

"I am an orphan. There's nothing he can take from me. I... I have nothing left to lose or to care about..." You say it quietly, rubbing your wrist with your hand. You try hard not to think about Alina and Mal. Your only family... all you have left after those you lost.

"And your life?"

"We're all going to die someday, Genya." Your soft whisper seals the uncomfortable silence.

You think about your parents and siblings—everyone you lost—and the life you could have had that fate ripped from you before you learned how to fight for yourself. You lost everything as a child. There's nothing left for you. At least nothing good.

"Here. You look amazing. There is only one thing missing." She says this with a smile and takes out a long, black coat with black and white embroidery from the closet. It's a kefta. A fucking kefta.

"What the hell is that?" You ask angrily, standing up from your chair and looking at the piece of clothing in utter disgust.

"The general ordered it especially for you. You are a Grisha. You are one of us, and you should present yourself as such." She says this and puts the kefta on the chair.

You walk up to it and run your hand over the material. You expected something rough—just like the general's character—and uncomfortable to wear, since the keftas protected Grisha from every blade and bullet, but this... was nothing like armor. It was soft and cozy. Like velvet. Nothing you may have experienced in your district.

"Black? Isn't that his colour?" You ask, trying to reassure yourself of how terrible this damn thing is.

"Merzost is closely associated with the Darkling bloodline in our culture, since he used it to create the fold. Consider it a… coincidental coincidence." You snort when you hear her explanation. If anything, it was a sign of belonging. The general's new toy. Freak of nature. What a pity he'll lose you before he can use you for the good of his fucking Grisha.

"Other people won't see it like that. You know this, so stop lying to me." The redhead sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Just put it on. People need to know that the king broke his word to Grisha to force you to participate in the Hunger Games, breaking part of the covenant between us."

"This isn't my war to fight, Genya. Besides, I'm going to die in games anyway, so what's the difference?" Your response only enraged her more.

She didn't raise her voice, and you wouldn't have recognized her emotions unless you saw her hands tremble slightly before she placed them behind her back. You wonder how many times she has had to hide her true feelings.

"You have Merzost in your veins, the most powerful force you can draw from. Do you really want to give it all up? Lose the opportunity you have in front of you? Do you know how many of us have been waiting for you?" She asks with resentment in her voice, but you really don't want to argue with her.

You know it doesn't make sense because they are all here believing in some stupid children's story, a fairy tale that made you a savior in their eyes, and now, since you have finally arrived, you are supposed to fly around and pretend to be a hero you know you are not. As if you could do anything you wanted.

"I was dead long before I was chosen for The Hunger Games. Year after year I was only prolongs the inevitable. I am sorry, but that's the truth. Don't get your hopes up."

"I see that my favourite suicide is in good shape today." Your discussion is interrupted by the appearance of the Darkling. You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. You seriously considered throwing yourself at the spear of one of those ancient armored knights that decorated the halls of the palace. At least you wouldn't have to endure his presence any longer. "Are you rested? Fed?"

"Don't you have something else to do instead of keeping an eye on me? Or send your minions to do it for you? This is getting tiring and irritating." Genya gives you an offended look. She huffs, leaving the chambers as she gets a nod from the Darkling.

"I am your mentor. It's my duty to take care of you." He says, clasping his hands behind him once you're left alone. He looks at you carefully and takes a step towards you. This time, you don't step back but stare at him defiantly.

"Then it is with great pleasure that I would like to relieve you of this obligation." Your words only make him chuckle. He straightens a piece of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. His fingertips brush against your cheek, making you shiver. However, you do nothing to let him know how much his proximity bothers you.

"Oh, you won't make it. Only a king can do this. Do you like your kefta?" He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head towards the offending fabric still hanging on the chair.

"It looks like a floor rag." You say, not hiding your disgust. He chuckles darkly again. He takes the kefta in his hands and unfolds it, pretending to look at it carefully as he walks over to you again.

"Then Karamzin must be richer than I thought, if this is what your floor rags look like. Especially the orphanage."

"Have you been rummaging through my files? What for?" You ask in shock, trying to mask your fear. If he finds out about Alina and Mal… you don't want to have any more deaths on your conscience.

"Better put it on if you don't want to find out very soon." You decide to follow your better judgement instead of your pride and turn your back on him, letting him put on the hideous kefta. Surprisingly, the material hugs you perfectly. You feel warm and soft—the complete opposite of what you know. You gasp in shock as he reaches for his belt and pulls you towards him. You bump into his chest as he tightens the belt around your waist. "Good girl. Now, put your hand in the crook of my arm and smile nicely, and everything will turn out great today. And if you keep behaving as a good girl, you'll get dessert tonight."

"I'd rather gouge out my eyes and sew my mouth shut than be an obedient little doll that you can dress however you want and show everyone."

"I'd reconsider it if I were you. The chefs baked a chocolate cake today. With chocolate-covered cherries on top. Have you ever had a chance to eat something like it?" He smiles, almost mischievously, as he stands next to you, still waiting for you to follow his instructions.

"Son of a bitch." You mutter under your breath and he laughs. He must have been drunk. He couldn't be in such a good mood. Not him.

"That's actually very ture, my little wellspring." He says and leads you to a slaughter worse than the Hunger Games... he leads you to a party for the Games. Among the nobility. You shudder just thinking about this nightmare (not because he puts his bigger hand on yours).

"You have a very beautiful dress!" You force a fake smile on your lips when a noblewoman compliments you.

"Thank you." You say, sipping your glass of wine. The only good thing that happened to you at the party was alcohol. And even then, the Darkling tried to limit you to this one pleasure, making sure that you didn't drink too much.

Your head hurt from all the nonsense conversations with all these people who were only famous for being born into rich families. Terrible. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice several tributes also struggling to maintain their composure. At least you weren't the only one.

However, after you turned out to be Grisha, the rest of the tributes tended to avoid you. You knew from the beginning that you wouldn't have any friends among them, but it would be nice to have one friendly soul in this terrible place.

"I didn't think the people of District 12 would fit into our community so well, but you, darling, look absolutely perfect." You barely stop yourself from throwing the glass you're holding at her. Instead, you tighten your grip on him and smile politely at her, gritting your teeth in anger.

"I'm glad I can surprise you."

Fortunately, you don't have to talk to her anymore. The general approaches you quickly, noticing your tenseness, and with his natural grace, he places his hand on your waist, starting a conversation with a woman who turns out to be a close friend of the queen. Oops. It's better that he came to you, because you wouldn't apologise if you accidentally allowed Merzost to break free and turn her into a volcra.

As you stand next to them, as larger crowds of women begin to gather around you, you realize a terrible truth. The Darkling was your only support here. Him and Genya.

You flinch as he suddenly tightens his grip on your waist and guides you away from the group of noblewomen, who giggle as you both walk away. You allow yourself to roll your eyes at them.

"What the hell was that?" He asks you angrily, setting your glass down on the table. You automatically reach for it again, but he grabs your hand before you can take it and keeps it away from the alcohol.

"I was just about to ask you the same fucking thing." You respond in a defiant tone, glaring daggers at him. Your stomach was starting to growl, and the bastard wouldn't let you touch anything to eat until you fulfilled your end of the bargain and behaved yourself. As you and he can see, you didn't do very well.

"Don't grimace around them as if they were pouring salt into your open wounds." He says it angrily and lets go of your hand. He reaches for something from the buffet. You freeze when he hands you a tiny plate with some fruit. You lick your lips, staring at your food for a moment before looking back at him. "It's for avoiding causing a drama. Partly. Try harder, and I'll let you eat whatever you want."

"But that's what they do! Do you have any idea what it's like to have to stand there smiling and nodding your head while these snobs from the capital talk about how your people and the city are octopus and beneath them?!" You hiss so only he can hear it, but you take the plate of food from him anyway. God knows when you'll get something again.

"I'm Grisha. I know exactly what you are going through." You would laugh at him mockingly if you didn't have a mouth full of food. He looks at you disgusted, and you quickly get the hint and eat smaller portions.

"Please. You've been doing fine since the Hunger Games. At least your people don't have to die every year to the delight of a bunch of sadistic idiots with stuffed bras and fake hair." Your comment makes him bite his lip, but he still can't help but smile a little. Few people could make him laugh and laugh at the same time. As you can see, Merzost wasn't the only special thing about you.

However, your hostile look reminds him that you are in the middle of an argument, and it is his turn to present his argument. God, how much work he had to do with you. You will kill him before he can get you safely through the Hunger Games.

"But years ago we were hunted by all of you, and somehow I don't spit on every Ravkan and kill them for it."

"Because you didn't experience it. If you were there, you would act differently." You sound confident. He shakes his head, wondering how you would react to the truth. Although now he seems to be more interested in food than in anything he has to say. He had to finally feed you. His Merzost Holder couldn't go hungry. It's enough that you experienced hunger and poverty in District 12.

"You think?" He asks, setting your empty plate on the table and offering his hand to you. You look at him for a moment, confused by the sudden… change in his attitude.

"General?"

"You can dance, can't you?" He asks, taking your hand, and without waiting for your response, he leads you to the dance floor. The rest of the mentors have no such idea, so you both are closely watched by all the participants in the ball.

"A little." You say shyly, something he's experiencing from you for the first time. He smiles fondly at you, which, of course, you don't see, too embarrassed to look at anything other than your shoes. But others see. The general's small smile does not go unnoticed by his closest soldiers.

"I guess I have to work with that." He says this and gently lifts your chin to look at him. He places a hand on your waist, and the other holds yours in an iron, steady grip. "Eyes on me. Put your hand on my shoulder and try not to fall. Keep up with me, and everything will be fine."

All you can do is trust him, which you do with surprising ease for him. Somehow, he can't take his eyes off you. You looked gorgeous in the black kefta, especially with his symbol embroidered on the back—a little thing you didn't need to know yet. And so, looking at you, Aleksander can't help but wonder what it would be like if he met you under different circumstances. Maybe if he were younger, less experienced... if his mother's words didn't ring so loudly in his head every time he started to feel something akin to tenderness towards you. Maybe if he hadn't lost so many...

Meanwhile, you try to fight the strange feeling he gives you every time his skin touches yours. You feel a strange pull, a calling, and you realise how your power, the same one you tried to ignore and forget for so many years, comes to life under his touch. You hated it. And him. For trying to break down the walls that you put up for so long and so hard. For trying to make you the Grisha you hated. For making it so easy for you to sink into the arms of the Black Heretic ancestor.

And at the same time… it was nice to feel important for a change… even if just for a moment.

So you dance with him, agreeing to this little moment of truce between you two. Deciding that you would look for answers later as to why you felt so attached to him. And why every time he touched you you felt so… powerful.

"That was awful." You groan as you finally return to your chambers, with the Darkling by your side, of course.

He hasn't left you since that dance. He was always somewhere next to you as you talked with the nobility. You have gained several sponsors and the favour of important people in Os Alta. The Darkling was pleased. And you're exhausted.

"And wonderful. You did great, much better than I expected. The servants should bring our dinner soon." He says, sitting next to you on the couch, watching as you take off your kefta and throw it in the corner of the room. He bites his lip, deciding not to comment. He already expected a lot from you today. The manners lesson could have been taught another time.

"Our?" You ask surprised, not expecting him to stay longer than necessary.

"Do you mind?"

"Yes." You answer honestly and straight away, to which he just laughs.

"I wish I cared." He replies with a mischievous smile. You roll your eyes as you take off your shoes and try to pick any pins out of your hair. Genya seemed to enjoy tormenting you. There were definitely too many of them. "So a healer? Really?" He asks, referring to your last conversation. Someone asked you what you wanted to do before you got into The Hunger Games. You decided to answer truthfully once. Of course, you were laughed off and called a sweet, naive soul willing to help. You wanted to vomit on their polished, gold-plated shoes.

"Why not?" You ask angrily. He raises his hands defensively with a smirk, seeing how fed up you are with everything that happened today.

"It's rather… a thankless profession among the common people. Healers usually come to them when they are dying. Relieve suffering. They are the harbinger of death, almost like a reaper. Usually, they are not coming to actually extend their lives."

"So you must have had similar experiences." You scoff, making him think about it. This wasn't what you expected. You were expecting a rather harsh answer. Not a pensive, almost sad look. For a moment, you think that maybe he, too, could just be human. You shake your head. No. He was just one of them. He couldn't have any... human feelings or know the real pain.

"Painful but true. They don't get excited when they see me either." His whisper should make you change the subject, but after the terrible day he put you through, all you want to do is stick a pin in him where it hurts the most.

"I wonder why..." You start, but he cuts you off before you can finish.

"Don't mock. You were behaving so nicely. I prefer you to smile than spit acid."

"I wish I cared." You repeat his words from a while ago, trying to imitate his tone of voice. He rolls his eyes at you, but somehow you both do nothing more than make snide comments to each other. Taking advantage of the relatively quiet moment between you, you decide to ask him honestly. "What do you want from me?"

"To win." He replies simply, playing with the ring on his finger. He rolls it over on his finger, resting his chin on his hand as he looks at you intently. A shiver runs through you as the dark depths of his eyes meet yours. Undeterred by his short, evasive answer, you continue, knowing that this is your only chance to get something from him.

"And then what? You won't let me go back to my district." You say, knowing perfectly well that this is not an option for you. IF you win.

"You are right. You will live here. With Grisha. The people you belong to." You frown, dissatisfied with his answer. You weren't Grisha. You will never be. No matter how much he pushes and forces you to become one of them.

"Unless I die, which is very probably since I am not going to kill anyone on the arena." You remind him. He doesn't seem to take your promise seriously. You don't convince him. He will see for himself in the arena how serious you are about your decision.

"You won't die." He says it firmly, as if it were an obvious fact.

"How can you..."

"YOU WON'T!" He yells at you, standing up. You sit stoically in the same position as before, watching as the shadows in the corner of the room gather around him. He sighs and waves them away. "I've been waiting a long time for you, Y/N. You are the one of your kind and even more precious than a Sun Summoner. I won't see your dead body. No matter how much you want it."

"Leave." You say, too tired to argue with him, to tell him that you have no intention of being an obedient tool in his hands, that you won't be a weapon that he can use.

"That's my palace." Furious at his words, you get up to face him. You look at each other with pure hatred.

You are too tired to notice that a dark mass is beginning to form around your arms. But Aleksander sees it. And he watches with fascination as you let your powers slip through. Out of curiosity, he summons his shadows behind you. Just a small black cloud. However, for some reason, under the influence of your powers, the room is plunged into complete darkness. He looks at you in shock, realising that you had unknowingly empowered him by providing him with energy from Merzost. Unbelievable.

"And my room for a while, so prove to me you can sometimes be the nobel man everyone told me you are and leave me alone." You whisper; all you can see in the dark surrounding you are its irises, analysing you with undisguised fascination and admiration.

If only you trained, if you learned to control what was inside you... Aleksander wouldn't have to take anyone into account; he could just declare himself tsar, threatening the Ravkans to expand the fold if they didn't recognise Grisha's greatness. All he needed was you.

"As you wish." He says, deciding to let you win this fight. He takes your hand and holds it tight as he calls his shadows back to him. They come back in a second. One blink, and the darkness in the room disappears. Impossible. Even his mother didn't have that much control in her glory days. He wondered if you would have this effect only on him or on other Grisha as well. But no. He won't share this secret with anyone. Not yet. For now, you were only his little wellspring of power. "Tomorrow is the first day of your training. 7 A.M. Don't be late, or I will drag you out of your bed by myself." He says, letting go of your hand and walking towards the exit, trying hard not to steal glances at you. He would have to look into his grandfather's journals and old books. You were a real mystery. And he was just waiting to see what more you could do besides complete him perfectly.

"Go to hell." You mutter under your breath, rubbing the hand that was in his iron grip a few moments ago. You felt that stupid electric thrill again. It definitely had to have something to do with your strange connection. Darkling and Merzost Holder. You had to find out more about it. Maybe you need to start being nice to Genya after all...

"Excuse me?" He asks, turning around in the doorway when he hears the insult from you.

"Sleep well." You reply with a sweet, cynical smile. He shakes his head in amusement and decides to ignore your behavior. He'll give you a hard time at training tomorrow. See how far your skills range. With a little training, who knows... maybe you'll be able to bring people back from the dead.

Involuntarily, his thoughts turn to Luda. If he had you by his side earlier… no. He couldn't think about her. He knows that history would have turned out the same way. Because even if you had revealed yourself to him earlier, he would have been too busy with you to see anyone else.

Aleksander promises himself that he will do everything to prevent you from becoming his second Luda. He had enough ghosts of his past tormenting him at night. And you can't become another one of them. If necessary, I will kill these tributes myself. He will find a way. He always did.

Unless someone dares to interfere with his plans... just like last time. That's why, immediately after leaving your chambers, he goes to the only person he knows who will be able to protect you from his greatest enemy.

"Ulla?! Sister?! I have an offer you can't refuse!" He calls from the shore of the lake in the gardens of Little Palace.

[awanderingtortoise]

I don't even dare to call this a zoyalai or genyadavid foc because its LITERATURE. Explores a whole world of Genya, David, Nikolai and Zoya's lives in an alternate but incredibly convincing timeline like oh my god and this was written years before KoS came out but the zoyalai dynamic is so good too? I think I like the characterisations and back stories here better than the original 😭 The world here is more 'real' and gritty than the canon but good god it is exquisite I have been on a JOURNEY

[bi-bard]

When They Took Everything from You, You Found a Way to Make Something from Nothing - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: When They Took Everything from You, You Found a Way to Make Something from Nothing

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 3,303 words

Warning(s): **HEY! LOOK RIGHT HERE!** mention of S.A/Assault (within original story's context), mention of abduction

Summary: (Y/n) experiences their first day at the Little Palace. They are confronted with the weight of their new responsibilities, starting with being presented to the king. They also learn just how difficult it will be to work with General Kirigan and the other Grisha.

Author's Note: Shout out to my friend who sent me a picture of a few pages of the book to help inspire a part of this imagine. (we should all love my friend because she is the reason that this OC was continued and the story got developed)

Also, Kaz isn't in this, but Kaz is the romantic interest.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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I didn't sleep much during my first night at the Little Palace.

I barely even touched the bed after I woke up there the first time. No, my first sign of defiance was my choice to refuse to go to bed as Kirigan told me to. I was not a pet. I refused to be treated as one.

I had a lot of night left to waste.

I contemplated the letters that I would have written to the Crows if I ever trusted a person here enough to believe my written words wouldn't be used against me.

Saints, I missed them all so much more than I ever could have considered.

I don't know when the tiredness overcame my stubbornness.

All I know is that one moment, I was sitting at the table with my jaw clenched and a glare fixed on my face. The next, I was waking up, cheek resting on my folded arms on top of the table.

I felt my heart drop as I looked around the room.

I had been hoping that it would all be some kind of twisted dream. I didn't want this to be real. I wanted to be home. To wake up to some kind of familiarity. Back in the Crow Club so I could play cards with Jesper or with Inej while she tried desperately to teach me how to throw as well as her or even just being in Kaz's office while we bickered over some part of whatever plan he was making.

I found myself grinning at the thought of Kaz.

Saints, that boy consumed every thought I had. It was getting unfair at this point. Especially when I was convinced that there was no world where he would see me in nearly the same light that I saw him.

My dwelling on my senseless pining was brought to an abrupt halt by the door suddenly getting slammed open.

"Excuse me-"

The woman leading the charge cut me off, "Saints... have you ever bathed?"

I raised an eyebrow at her, "The abduction didn't exactly leave me much time to pamper myself."

A sigh escaped her before she snapped her fingers at some of the people that had followed her. "Fetch my kit."

Two of the other people grabbed my arms, pulling me into the small bathroom attached to the room.

Once they tried to pull my clothes off, I shoved them away. They went to grab me again, but I simply pushed them again.

"Grab me again and you'll be the first ones to witness my 'gift'," I snapped. "I am perfectly capable of washing and dressing myself."

"Everyone out!" the original woman yelled.

She found her place in a chair in the corner while everyone filled out.

I crossed my arms, my disgust clearly written on my face. I nodded to the door, trying to motion for her to leave. She just tilted her head and smirked at me.

"Unbelievable," I muttered.

I yanked my clothes off and climbed into the tub. One of the lingering workers grabbed my clothes before running off.

The water was warm. The sponge was nicer than I expected it to be. I took a deep breath through my nose. It smelled like something sweet. I couldn't place it.

"You are to be presented to King Pyotr in an hour," the woman said as I scrubbed at my skin.

"Excuse me?"

"You are going to be presented to the king in an hour," she repeated. "I am here to ensure that you are presentable."

"And that includes watching me bathe?"

"What if you were to drown?"

It was pure sarcasm, but I wouldn't be surprised if General Kirigan had sent her to actually ensure that it didn't happen. I just huffed and rinsed my skin off.

I pulled myself up from the tub. The woman walked up behind me and offered me a robe to cover myself. I pulled it on quickly, tying as tight a knot as I could.

It was annoyingly comfortable. Softer than any fabric that I had been given the fortune to touch. But I would rather burn then and there than let anyone in this place see that.

She brought me back to the main room, stopping to touch my chin and inspect my skin in the natural light coming through the window.

"What are you doing," I asked.

"Seeing how much work I need to complete in our very limited time together," she replied. "I should thank you for giving me an excuse to force out that little group that trails behind me. Much easier to do my work when I have no additional interruptions."

"You could always thank me by helping me get out of here," I replied.

She let out an amused huff. "You're funny."

"Wasn't joking."

She reached up and dragged her thumb along my cheekbone.

I felt something shifting under my skin. As if something was scratching and hoping to get out. I yanked myself away from her, reaching up to cover what she had touched.

"What did you do?" I snapped.

"My job," she answered. She motioned to the mirror.

I walked over and glanced at my reflection.

There had been this scar on my cheek. It was from back when I started working with Kaz. I had tried to kick out a man that didn't want to leave the Crow Club just yet. In response to my instructions, he hit me. It wouldn't have scarred if I hadn't picked at it. I could still hear Kaz snapping at me to stop messing with it whenever he caught me.

The scar was gone now. I touched the skin, hoping to find some indent. Nothing.

I turned back to the woman, who looked incredibly proud of herself.

"Healer?"

"Tailor," she corrected. "Rare. Not nearly as special as you, but... still rare."

Her next move was the fresh wounds. The ones that were a direct result of Kirigan's abduction plan and my fight against it.

"I'm Genya, by the way," she introduced. "(Y/n), right? Feels wrong to only call you the Sun Summoner."

I just nodded.

"I was told you were from Ketterdam. Well, you were hiding there. What was that-"

"Genya," I stopped her. "I understand that you are trying to be polite and friendly, but I need you to understand that I am here against my will. I am doing exactly what I need to do to survive and try to ensure the safety of those I care for. I have no interest in forming connections."

She paused for a moment. I couldn't tell if she was truly shocked or merely attempting to call my bluff.

"Fair enough," she finally replied. She reached down and grabbed my hand.

Old scars from the rare moments when I would get caught pickpocketing. Mostly small scars from nails scratching me as they grabbed my hands.

I didn't stop Genya's work until she got to the scar on my arm. I snagged her wrist, gruffly shaking my head.

She raised an eyebrow as she pulled back. "Sentimental?"

I didn't respond to her question.

Her smirk just grew.

Yes. It was me being sentimental.

The scar was fairly long and sat on the outside of my forearm. Inej had tried to help me learn to throw knives without me stabbing myself. I had thrown a knife at our makeshift target but had the handle hit instead of the blade. I had ducked and shielded my face, so when the knife came back, it slid over my arm and left the cut.

After making sure that I was okay, Inej had a tough time keeping it together.

Sitting there and watching her try to cover up her laugh was one of the first times that I felt like I had truly connected with her.

I was proud to be sentimental about it. Just not here.

"Sit," she nodded to the seat. "I'll be done before you know it."

I took a deep breath before listening to her.

She was being honest about that much. I had managed to get lost in my thoughts enough for it to feel like mere seconds before she was having stand so I could get dressed.

The great outfit for me to meet the king in was... the same outfit that I had been wearing when I was taken from Ketterdam.

The only added detail was a ridiculous veil meant to shield my face from everyone else.

"That seems ridiculous," I said. Genya raised an eyebrow at me. "You just want to put me in the same clothes?"

"They suit you well," she replied.

I started pulling on the clothes. I muttered under my breath as I did. It wasn't until I was tying up my ever-fateful boots that she spoke up again.

"We could have just left them as they were. Coated in dirt and sweat and... whatever lines the streets of Ketterdam."

I turned to her.

"You should be a little more grateful."

"Oh, you're right, how kind of you to clean the clothes that I was abducted in before forcing me to wear them to face the king," I said sarcastically.

She paused for a brief moment before responding, "Don't be silly, it's simply a recreation."

"Was that necessary?"

She raised an eyebrow at me as she placed the veil over my head. "Expect more?"

"If I was apparently so valuable, then I would imagine that having me look like... this wouldn't be appealing to your precious king."

She hummed, "Well... you don't want to attract too much attention from the king."

She said it in as light-hearted a voice as she could, but I caught her eyes before she could turn away from me to continue walking. They worried me. There was simply so much sitting there. None that she meant to show. Knowledge of some "consequence" of that attention.

It was a dark look, a sad look that I had only been allowed to see on one person's face before that moment.

Inej.

My heart fell a bit. I felt just as useless now as I did then. If I hadn't been so focused on my coldness, then I would have asked her to explain that statement a little further. I would have helped her. I would have done more than just sit there.

This is why I knew that I wasn't the saint that people wanted me to be. If I was, I would have done better. By both of them.

This wasn't the feeling of familiarity that I wanted.

Genya didn't speak on her statement more.

"He wishes to see you as something newly found," she said. "Saved from the Barrel and whatever unsavory life that he believes it offered you. He'll want to take credit for you being found."

"Like a rare animal," I replied. "New and interesting... and placed in a cage so they cannot fight back."

"A very comfortable cage," Genya shrugged.

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on."

I followed Genya out of my room, letting her lead me down the hall.

We walked in silence through most of the halls. I wanted to get a grasp of the layout. I knew that I would need to have it memorized for later.

I spotted a library, where the nearest staircases, and the potential exits.

There was no denying that the Little Palace was a gorgeous place. It was designed to treat the Grisha as nothing less than almost-royalty. Separate yet superior. If only their rise to power didn't involve shoving so many into the dirt on the way up.

Genya tried to explain who would be at the event today. I didn't pay much mind to it. It was rude, yes, but I don't think I can be faulted for not being the kindest of individuals considering the circumstances.

"Genya," I turned my eyes forward at the sound of one of the few voices that could make me truly sick to my stomach. Kirigan. "I believe I can take over the guiding from here."

She nodded to both of us before walking away. I pushed the veil off of my face.

"Shall we," Kirigan motioned toward the door. I walked a few steps ahead of him. "The Grand Palace may be the ugliest building I've ever seen."

I simply hummed in response. Polite, but not going out of my way to continue the ever-so-interesting conversation.

"How was your rest?"

I didn't respond, still admiring the outside of the Grand Palace, the Little Palace, and the courtyard in between.

"You do know that you can talk to me," he continued.

"Thank you for the permission," I replied. "If I ever have the desire to accept your offer, I'll be certain to inform you."

He grabbed my wrist, pulling us both to a stop and forcing me to turn and face him. I flinched away from him. I never thought that I would miss the feeling of Kaz tapping my shins with his cane to do the same thing, yet here I was. Still thinking of him, even when I was about to face the king of Ravka.

"What," I asked.

"I understand that these are not ideal circumstances-"

"You kidnapped me-"

"I am requesting that you pretend to have some understanding of how important this is," he said. "How important you are. I'm asking you to behave like an adult."

"Promise to do the same?" I tilted my head. "I am sorry but there is going to be no form of cooperation here if you cannot even truly accept that what you did to me was wrong."

"Who are you to tell me the difference between right and wrong? Last time I checked, you were part of some gang of lowlifes before I found you."

I clenched my fists. Again, choose your battles at the right time.

"Behave yourself," he scolded me. "We are going to meet the king. I am going to present you, you will show your powers, and the king will allow me to keep you here for training. Then, we will tear down the Fold together.

"We are officially too far down this path for us to turn back and question how we got here. You may not believe me, but I am trying to do what is best for us. For you, for me, for all of Ravka. Even those little Crows of yours."

"Don't speak of them," I snapped. "Never speak of them. You have no right to hold their names on your tongue."

A smirk pulled at Kirigan's lips. "I admire your stubbornness. I just wish it were applied in the place that truly needed it."

I rolled my eyes.

"I will earn your trust as best I can," he continued. "For now, I am asking you to pretend that I have already earned it. They will need to see that if they are ever going to believe that we can tear the Fold down."

I took a deep breath and pulled the veil back down over my face.

"Thank you-"

"Save it."

We walked to the Grand Palace in silence.

We were followed inside by guards and a collection of other Grisha.

The hall felt packed as we walked in. I never thought that I was one who feared attention, but I hadn't truly experienced it on such a scale. I had gone from completely hidden to completely known in a night. It was enough to churn anyone's stomach.

I stopped next to Kirigan in the middle of the room. I took a breath before lifting the veil from other my face. Someone took it from my hand. I nodded to them.

The crowd was only worse without the obstruction to my sight. And now I couldn't how desperately I wanted to close my eyes and hide from it all.

"I thought they'd be taller," the king said immediately.

I took a breath, keeping my attitude to myself. I felt Kirigan's eyes shift to me for just a moment. As if he were checking on my behavior like a parent does with a child.

"Good morning," the queen added awkwardly.

"Good morning, your highness," I replied, nodding my head in respect.

"So polite," she gushed. "Considering where you've been living, of course."

I wondered how much of Inej's throwing lessons had properly stuck with me. "Thank you, your highness."

Kirigan spoke up before I had a chance to properly introduce myself, "They are (Y/n) (Y/l/n). The Sun Summoner, moya tsaritsa. They will change the future."

I felt his eyes turn to me again.

"Starting now."

He lifted his hand, drawing in two waves of shadow from either side of the crowd. It filled the room, covering any ounce of light. He stepped to the side, facing me fully.

I turned my eyes up to the shadows surrounding me. I took a breath, closed my eyes, and drew the sun in.

A ball formed in my hands. I cast it up into the center of the shadow.

It glimmered as the light tore it down.

I heard the applause before I opened my eyes. When I did, the king had stood from his seat, leading the audience's response. I grinned at him, nodding as a quiet sign of appreciation.

Kirigan stepped over again. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Asking a little early," I whispered back to him.

"How long will they need," the king asked, turning to Kirigan.

"Destroying the Fold is no easy feat," he explained. "It is possible that (Y/n) may not have the ability to complete the task alone. I request that they remain with me in the Little Palace to train. Undisturbed."

"Then train them quickly," the king replied. "Our wars have been a noble pursuit, but this chat about the west becoming a sovereign nation, that needs to stop. The sooner we are one country again, the better."

"I agree," Kirigan nodded. He tilted his head down. "Moi tsar."

I mimicked his bow.

He guided me to turn around, leading me back to the crowd of Grisha. He only stopped for a moment.

"Welcome home, (Y/n)."

He walked away, finding his way through the crowd to leave.

I was left with the guards and the Grisha.

The Grisha were welcoming. All of them seemed to be buzzing due to my presence and what they had just watched. I tried to be as polite as I needed to be. Nods and shaking hands and small grins. Far too many hugs. That was all that I could offer.

There was one woman who stuck out. Long dark hair with bangs. She stood perfectly straight with her shoulders rolled back enough to make her appear like a soldier.

"It's such an honor to formally meet you," she said.

I didn't have a chance to respond before I was pulled into a rough, tight hug. I barely caught sight of the smug grin on her face. I awkwardly hugged her back regardless.

"You reek of the Barrel," she muttered to me.

I chucked and leaned back just slightly, mumbling into her ear to ensure that my words were only heard by her, "And you reek of the General."

She tilted her head, grin now tighter and more forced.

I offered a sickeningly sweet grin before allowing myself to be guided out of the room by Genya, who I must've simply missed when I first arrived. She guided me back to my room, claiming that I deserved a bit of rest while waiting on my kefta to arrive.

I knew that this event was only a first step. Merely one day in what could be hundreds.

But I was okay with that.

As long as the Crows were at the end of that long line of days.

--------------------

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[that-one-ostrich-friend]

could you write a nikolai fic with the dialogue “will you dance with me? please, pretty please!”

thanks 🤎

May I Have This Dance?

nikolai lanstov x reader - may i have this dance?

word count: 3k

summary: nikolai and y/n share a dance and then sneak away for something more…

warnings: kissing, allusions to smut, partially shirtless nikolai, manwhore nikolai <3

a/n: first request!!!

     The evening had settled over the grand hall of the palace, where the air was filled with the soft rustling of silk gowns and the clink of crystal glasses. The palace was alive with celebration, a banquet in honor of Nikolai Lantsov's triumphs. The night was extravagant, the chandeliers sparkling overhead, their light casting a warm glow over the guests below.

     Y/n stood near the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples spin in graceful rhythm. The music played in the background, the strings and horns blending together in a symphony of joy. She had attended the event with a mix of curiosity and wariness—curiosity about the man everyone spoke of so highly, and wariness because, well, Nikolai Lantsov was unlike any man she had ever met.

     She had caught glimpses of him from across the room, charming guests with his smile, his magnetic presence undeniable. He was a man of many faces—dashing prince, clever tactician, mischievous joker. But Y/n had learned that there was much more to him than the masks he wore. It was the quieter moments, the ones spent in the corners of rooms or the subtle exchanges during casual conversation, that intrigued her the most.

     As she adjusted the sleeve of her gown, her thoughts interrupted, and a soft voice pulled her from her reverie.

     "Ah, there you are. Hiding in the corner, are we?"

     Y/n turned, her heart giving an unexpected jolt. Nikolai stood there, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His golden hair, disheveled just enough to be charming, glinted in the light as he approached her, the confidence in his stride making it impossible for her to look away.

     "I was not hiding," she replied, her tone teasing, though her pulse betrayed her calm facade. "Merely observing."

     "Observing?" He raised an eyebrow, his expression light but interested. "I hope you’re not planning on staying in this corner all evening. It’s far too beautiful a night to waste on solitude."

     Y/n chuckled, a little more nervous than she cared to admit. "And what do you suggest I do with my evening, then?"

     "Well..." His voice lowered, becoming more earnest, as he offered her a sly grin. "It seems to me you’ve been watching the dancers long enough. Perhaps it’s time you joined them."

     Y/n felt a flutter in her chest, though she couldn’t tell if it was excitement or hesitation. She had never been one for dancing, especially in such a grand setting. But Nikolai’s presence was magnetic, pulling her in like the tide.

     Nikolai tilted his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. "I’m sure you could pull off anything, Y/n. You’re already the most captivating person in the room, even without stepping onto the floor."

     Her heart skipped at the compliment, but she tried to hide it with a roll of her eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Highness."

     Flattery?" He raised his hand dramatically, placing it over his heart as if wounded. "I assure you, it’s nothing but the truth."

     Before she could retort, he took a step closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Will you dance with me? Please, pretty please?"

     The playful tone in his voice made it impossible to resist. Y/n’s resolve wavered, and for a moment, she simply stared at him, her mind a whirl of conflicting thoughts. He was, without a doubt, a force of nature. A man who could charm the birds from the trees, and yet, he wasn’t making her feel overwhelmed, but... rather intrigued.

     "I suppose I can’t refuse such a charming request," she finally said, with a smile that was half reluctant and half excited.

     Nikolai grinned, his eyes alight with triumph. "Splendid."

     He extended his hand to her, his fingers warm and inviting. Y/n hesitated for only a second before placing her hand in his. The moment their skin touched, a current of electricity seemed to pass between them, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as if the rest of the world had faded away. The noise of the ballroom, the chatter of the guests, even the music—it all seemed distant, swallowed up by the intensity of their connection.

     With a fluid motion, Nikolai led her onto the dance floor. His steps were sure, confident, as though he had done this a thousand times before, and she found herself matching his movements without thinking. She hadn’t danced in years, but with him, it felt natural, easy. He guided her with such a graceful touch, his hand on her waist steady and reassuring, while his other hand held hers with a tenderness that caught her off guard.

     The music swelled around them, and they moved together, weaving through the sea of other couples. Y/n couldn’t help but be drawn into the rhythm of the dance, her body attuned to his. There was something undeniably captivating about him—the way he made her feel like the only person in the room. His presence was magnetic, his every word laced with charm, and as they danced, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all part of his carefully crafted persona.

     "Are you always this persuasive?" Y/n asked, her voice teasing as she caught his eye.

     Nikolai let out a low chuckle, his gaze never leaving hers. "Only when I know the reward will be worth it."

     "And what is the reward, exactly?" Y/n asked, her heart skipping a beat as they twirled.

     "Why, the pleasure of your company, of course," he replied smoothly. "Though, I must admit, it’s a pleasant surprise that you agreed to dance with me."

     Y/n raised an eyebrow. "A pleasant surprise? You didn’t think I would?"

     Nikolai’s smile widened, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, I had my doubts. But now that we’re here... I’m glad I was wrong."

     The softness in his voice, the way his eyes seemed to hold her attention, sent a wave of warmth through her. She felt as if he was seeing her—really seeing her—in a way no one else had. It was unsettling, how easily he made her feel both exposed and cherished all at once.

     As they continued to dance, the conversation flowed naturally between them, their words playful, light, yet somehow filled with a quiet depth. Nikolai had an uncanny ability to make her laugh, to put her at ease even in the midst of a grand ball. He was never too forward, never too brash, but his presence was undeniable, like the calm before a storm, gentle yet ever-present.

     The music gradually wound down, and the last few couples spun to a stop, leaving the floor almost empty, save for the quiet whispers of those around them. The soft hum of conversation filled the space where the orchestra had just played, and Nikolai gently guided Y/n to a slower pace, their steps slowing in tandem with the fading melody.

     When the music came to an end, there was a brief, almost imperceptible pause, and Nikolai leaned slightly closer, his breath warm against her ear. “You dance with the grace of someone who’s far too modest, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, the playful tone replaced by something far more sincere. “I didn’t expect you to be such a natural.”

     Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, and she met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps I’m just full of surprises.”

     Nikolai’s eyes twinkled, his smile wide and knowing. “I do enjoy a good mystery,” he said, his fingers lightly brushing against the small of her back as he began to steer her off the dance floor. His touch was light, yet there was an undeniable sense of possessiveness to it.

     As they moved toward the edge of the ballroom, where the soft glow of chandeliers bathed the room in warm light, Y/n’s heart raced, and a thought, bold and unexpected, crossed her mind. She glanced around the room, noting the bustling groups of guests and the glint of glassware, the scent of perfume thick in the air. She lowered her voice slightly, making sure no one could overhear them.

     “Is there somewhere... a little more private we could go?” she asked, her words a delicate challenge, daring him to either accept or decline.

     Nikolai’s eyes flickered with surprise for a brief moment, and then a mischievous smile spread across his face, the glimmer in his gaze unmistakable. “Ah, I thought you’d never ask,” he whispered, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned in closer. “There are a few quiet spots, if you’re brave enough to follow me. 

      Y/n’s pulse quickened, but she met his gaze with an unspoken challenge of her own. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”

      With a playful bow, Nikolai offered her his arm, his smile both warm and knowing. “It would be my pleasure.”

     Nikolai guided her through the bustling crowd, the chatter and laughter of the guests slowly fading as they moved deeper into the quieter parts of the palace. The grand ballroom was alive with light and sound, but the farther they got from the center of the celebration, the more the world around them seemed to blur and quiet down. The only sound now was the soft click of their shoes on the polished marble floor, the air heavy with unspoken anticipation.

     As they reached a narrow, secluded hallway, tucked away from the grand festivities, Nikolai paused. The hallway was dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering on the walls, casting long, gentle shadows that danced across the tapestries. The space felt intimate, private—a perfect place for a quiet moment away from the prying eyes of the palace guests.

     Nikolai turned to face her, his expression a mixture of mischief and something deeper, more sincere. His golden hair glinted in the soft candlelight, and his eyes—those ever-changing eyes—were darker now, more focused. His lips curled into a smile, but it was a smile full of intent, full of knowing. “I must admit,” he said quietly, his voice still carrying that charming, playful tone, but now underlined with something that was undeniably magnetic, “I didn’t think you’d be the type to sneak away to a quiet corner.”

     Y/n’s pulse quickened, her heart hammering against her chest. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with possibility. She hadn’t come here to be coy, to play games. She had come here because she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more of him, more of the electrifying chemistry between them. His gaze never left hers, and in that moment, she knew that he, too, was caught in the same web of desire.

     She slowly stepped closer, her gaze dropping to the way the candlelight glinted off his clothing. His shirt—open just enough to reveal the hard lines of his chest—seemed to make him even more alluring. Without thinking, her fingers reached out, brushing against the collar of his shirt. She tugged gently, pulling him closer, her chest brushing against his. The air between them felt charged, as if the space was full of electricity just waiting to snap.

     Nikolai didn’t fight it. Instead, he moved with her, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her to him with a firm, almost possessive grip. His body was warm, solid against hers, and the scent of him—something woodsy and faintly spicy—wrapped around her, making her senses sharpen.

     Their lips met then, and it was as if a dam had broken. His kiss was urgent, hungry, and she responded in kind, matching his intensity with her own. Her fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer, her body pressing into his with a need she hadn’t realized was there. His lips moved against hers in a frantic rhythm, as if they were trying to erase the distance that had always been between them. Y/n felt herself melting into him, the heat of their kiss spreading through her like wildfire.

     For a moment, she forgot everything—forgot about the ball, the guests, the palace. There was only Nikolai, his hands gripping her tightly, his kiss all-consuming. She could feel the heat of him, his body pressing into hers, and it only made her want him more. She felt the familiar flutter in her chest, but this time it was mixed with something stronger, something she couldn’t ignore. Something dangerous.

     When the kiss broke, it wasn’t because they wanted it to. Both of them were panting, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Nikolai’s forehead rested against hers, and for a moment, they simply stood there, eyes closed, as the sound of their ragged breathing filled the space. His hands rested at her waist, fingers splayed, as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

     Y/n’s lips tingled from the kiss, and she slowly met his gaze again, her eyes searching his, full of questions and unspoken thoughts. Without a word, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as they worked their way down, slowly unfastening them one by one. The tension between them was thickening, growing more potent with each passing second. Nikolai didn’t stop her, didn’t protest. Instead, he watched her with that same knowing gaze, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took.

     As she opened the last button, the fabric parted, revealing the warm expanse of his chest. The candlelight flickered off his skin, casting soft shadows along his muscles, and Y/n couldn’t help but run her hands over the smoothness of his skin, feeling the heat radiating from him. She traced the lines of his chest, her fingertips brushing against the firm ridges of his muscles, feeling the strength beneath the softness.

     Nikolai let out a soft, low groan at her touch, his hands finding their way to her back, pulling her closer. His lips met hers again, this time more demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Y/n’s body responded instantly, her hands sliding lower, her fingers skimming the waistband of his trousers before trailing back up to his chest. Every touch seemed to ignite something within him, and the heat between them grew, intense and overwhelming.

     He responded to her touch with equal fervor, his hands exploring the curve of her back, pressing her further into the wall. There was no space between them now—just the feel of their bodies, the heat of their lips, the urgent desire that swirled around them, thick and all-encompassing.

     Y/n’s breath hitched when his lips trailed down her neck, his hands moving to her waist, pushing her dress up slightly. She could feel the steady, firm pressure of his touch, the heat of his body against hers.

     After what felt like an eternity of heated kisses and tangled bodies, their lips finally parted. The hallway seemed to settle back into its quiet stillness, but neither of them could fully catch their breath. Their chests heaved in unison, hearts racing in a way that felt both thrilling and dizzying. Nikolai's hand lingered at her waist, still pulling her close, his forehead resting against hers as they tried to steady their breaths.

     Y/n’s hair had come undone from its elegant updo, strands falling loose around her shoulders, and she couldn’t help but smile softly at the mess they had made of each other. She glanced up at him, noticing that his usually neat attire was now wrinkled, his golden hair disheveled, and his lips swollen from their kisses. A burst of laughter escaped her lips before she could stop it, her chest still rising and falling rapidly from the intensity of the moment.

     Nikolai looked at her with an amused, almost dazed expression, and a slow, boyish grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I think we’ve both seen better days,” he said, his voice still tinged with breathlessness. He reached up, running a hand through his hair, only making it messier, and chuckled.

     Y/n giggled softly, shaking her head, trying to regain some sense of composure. Her fingers went to her hair, attempting to smooth it back into some semblance of order. She knew she’d have to face the guests again soon, and though she was still flushed from their passionate kiss, she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious about how disheveled she looked. "You’re right,” she said with a teasing smile, “we look like we’ve been caught in a storm."

     Her fingers worked at her hair, trying to pull the loose strands back into place, but she was distracted by the playful yet intense look in Nikolai’s eyes as he watched her. His gaze softened, his lips still curved into that knowing smile. He reached for her wrist gently, his fingers cool against her warm skin, and with surprising tenderness, he pulled her hand away from her hair.

     “Y/n…” His voice was low and serious now, though there was still a playful edge to it. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers with a certain intensity. "You know, I don’t think we’re quite ready to return to the ballroom just yet. Wouldn’t you agree?”

     Her heart fluttered again, the way his gaze lingered on her, full of unspoken promises, made it clear that this wasn’t a casual suggestion. It was an invitation—a quiet request, one that made her pulse race all over again. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced up at him, the thought of going back to the noisy ballroom seeming less appealing by the second.

     “Where do you suggest we go instead?” Y/n asked softly, her voice almost a whisper as she met his gaze. She could feel the tension between them building once more, the same chemistry that had ignited earlier still simmering beneath the surface. Her body was still humming with the aftereffects of their kiss, and the idea of being alone with him, of indulging in whatever this connection was, felt far more tempting than the thought of returning to the ballroom.

     Nikolai didn’t say a word at first. Instead, he took a small step closer, his thumb brushing against her wrist as he lowered his voice, the words soft yet unmistakably clear. “I think it would be much better if we went back to my bedroom.” His gaze didn’t leave hers, the sincerity in his words making her pulse spike again.

      Y/n’s breath hitched in her chest, the suggestion catching her off guard. She knew she should hesitate, should think it over, but the truth was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. There was something magnetic about him, something about the way he made her feel seen, alive, and desired. Her mind was clouded with the heat of their earlier kiss, the fire that still burned between them.

     Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind swirling with everything they’d just shared, everything that still felt so new and thrilling between them. She wasn’t sure where this would lead, but in that moment, all she could focus on was the way he made her feel. The anticipation, the desire, the pull between them.

     Her gaze flickered to his lips for a brief moment, and then, without thinking, she nodded, her voice barely more than a breath. “Alright, lead the way.”

     Nikolai’s smile deepened, and he stepped closer, his free hand gently guiding her by the elbow. He turned and began walking, but his pace was slow, deliberate, as if savoring every moment of this. Y/n followed close behind, her pulse still racing, her thoughts a whirlwind. She had no idea what would happen once they reached his bedroom, but one thing was certain—there was no turning back now.

[seronsalk]

A waltz with shadows

My Masterlist.

Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x Sun Summoner fem!reader

AN: I had this idea, and I changed some things because I always thought it was really silly how Alina, a girl from the army, suddenly just started trusting a shadow man. (It's not extremely romantic sorry)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mention of alcohol and other substance use.

Cute starry dividers from: @saradika (who is an absolute blessing with their creativity!)

Word count: 1,310k

It was the day of the winter fate and the atmosphere couldn't have been more busy.

The constant thought of the last couple of weeks remained at the front of your brain, everything was so different, especially you and the general.

You still didn't trust him, but the eerie longing feeling you had towards him lingered on your skin. Craving him to wrap his hand around your wrist again, no. You pushed those thoughts away, you didn't need a man to be there, Baghra was right as much as you hated to admit it.

As if on que, snapping you from your thoughts, Genya barged in holding a kefta and a servant brought in her kit before exiting swiftly.

"Saints, thank goodness I got here in time," she said widening her eyes at the look of your messy hair.

You breathed out a small laugh and with that Genya was at work.

"I know the general insisted on black for the performance, but afterwards I was thinking you could go back to the blue?" Genya expressed.

"Unless somehow he convinces me otherwise, I probably will, though I wouldn't want to come off as ungrateful, " you stated.

Genya paused her tailoring, "Don't feel like you have to always please him, I want you to be careful." "Careful of what?" you asked, a little confused.

"Powerful men."

"I know, I've seen a corrupted general or two, if he is like them, there is no difference," you stated, thinking back about some of the generals who you knew had used there army salaries to just drown themselves in liquor.

You decided to not clue Genya in on how you were weirdly drawn to Kirigan. Immediately hearing your thoughts say 'Kirigan' made you remember he had given you his name, though you had honestly ignored him.

Genya smiled, before continuing her work.

Later,

you both were walking through the hall and many of the ambassadors and guests of the royals were definitely gawking at you.

You were certain that if self control didn't exist a couple of them would have asked to marry you right then, not that you would have said yes.

As you and Genya walked you came to the main hall, "I can't enter with you, besides they aren't ready for you." However before she could get that through your brain, your gaze landed on Kirigan. He was speaking to the king and queen, you immediately walked in.

Murmurs caught his attention as he turned his gaze meeting you, you noticed his eyes wandered downward. His eyes were always so enticing as somehow you could see no emotion on his face, but every emotion in his eyes.

No matter how deep, dark and black those two pools were, getting lost in them was honestly a gift.

Before you could continue to think about his eyes, you came to your senses noticing he was now in front of you, "you were supposed to enter accompanied by guards," he said his eyes looking around before meeting your gaze.

Ah, there they were again, "You look lovely by the way."

"I can see you really got dressed up as well," she said with a teasing smile noticing he was wearing the same black kefta he always wore.

He smiled, "You don't like my different shade of black?" Then again their conversation was interrupted.

The Inferni twins started their demonstration, keeping the eyes on them and not you and the general for too long. Tossing balls of fire between each other with a few murmurs of interest from the audience.

When they finally ended their demonstration everyone clapped, but you nor the general did not. "It's time, let's show them all." He stated, before you could ask him any of your many questions.

He led you up on the wannabe stage-like platform before he drew the shadows into the hall quieting the guests and plunging them all into complete utter darkness.

As he turned, you focused on his eyes as you called your light. You split the beams into two and then heightened the light into the chandelier, like you had practiced.

Sending light bouncing off of everywhere in the room and the intensity of 'ouuing and ahhing' put a small smirk on your face.

When the light finally commenced, lots of them immediately started getting on a knee or so praying and saying "Sankta y/n." It felt extremely weird to be referred to as a saint.

The general helped you down and his facial expressions were unreadable, yet you found a strange emotion in his eyes almost hopeful.

Your suspicions had been confirmed when he simply said, "You are amazing, Miss l/n."

After being introduced to a few hundred people, you rejoined the general thinking about your bed and how tired you were. As if on que, the general held out his hand to you, "Would you like to dance?" You couldn't have imagined him dancing, especially with you.

As realization hit you hadn't given him an answer and instead left him patiently studying your facial expressions, you got out a quick, "I would love too."

With that he led you both to a part of the ballroom where a dance was about to begin. You grabbed his hand and rested your other on his shoulder. He placed his other hand on your waist and a chill was sent down your spine.

You both moved elegantly as one, and if anyone was watching, all they could see was the sun in the eclipse.

Your eyes locked with each other's as he spun you around before speaking.

"I know you aren't fond of my color on you, but I must say you look magnificent," he gawked.

Thinking on how to respond you smiled, "I must say its grown a little on me."

He smiled a little wider before they waltzed into a turn, even for a second of moving from each other's gaze it felt cold immediately, lost and empty.

And when it returned it was warm and sweet, safe and longing.

Feeling the need to say something you spoke up, "I would like to say that all these demonstrations of grishas abilities are honestly annoying, they aren't entertainers after all." He took a moment before responding, "No, We aren't." A slight smile creased your lips.

"It means a lot to know I am not the only one who doesn't appreciate these antics," he added.

Something in his eyes told you he was holding himself back on something else, but you didn't have to pry, he spoke softly, "You mean a lot to me and not just your power and what it means for everyone, but you yourself." That had your heart rate speeding up and you were sure Fedyor or Ivan were somewhere in the crowd silently smirking.

"Thank you," you paused before he pulled you closer for the last turn and in a near whisper so only he could hear it against his earlobe,

"Aleksander."

And the look in his eyes was all you needed to see, to know that he was your one and only future.

An: Alright shawty's I don't know about y'all, but this wasn't even like a big sappy thing I wanted, its just a little longing here and there let me know if you think I should I don't know make a part 2 or something!

Requests are always open, let me know what you got!

Thanks for reading, proud of you!

Shadow & Bone Masterlist!

<3

[eyes-like-alexandrite]

Grand Duke Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka, pictured beside both halves of his heart.

so i read ‘what stays and what fades away’ by goldtreesilvertree / @lottiesnotebook, wept profusely for a number of hours, and then had to make fanart lol

[amsgrey]

Smitten

Zoya Nazyalensky x Fem!Grisha!Reader

I am such a Zoya simp I love her so much. I wrote this in like an hour, so it's not that good but I just needed to write for my queen.

Synopsis: You return to the little Palace after the Civil War. You find you aren't the only one who came back for Ravka.

Warnings: not at all proofread or edited, some spoilers for sab s2 obvi, show!Zoya bc I haven't read the king of scars duology yet, kind of ooc Zoya bc I'm trying to learn how to get her right, reader and Zoya being smitten and Genya making fun of them, not really any good plot lol.

You had come to the little palace when you were 8, your father bringing you from your village at the border with Frejda. He worried that the Frejdan raids would get you killed, especially after he realized you were Grisha. The day he said goodbye to you was the last day you saw him, leaving you in the big world with no family. That quickly changed when you became friends with another Grisha your age, a squaller with strong powers and an even stronger will.

You two grew up together, getting closer and closer. You even went on missions together in The Wandering Isle. That changed when General Kirigan found the Sun summoner and Ravka became unstable. You had been stationed in Kerch, working to recruit Grisha and free Grisha slaves. After news of the Darkling's attack, you stayed and found a place to live hiding away from the Civil War that raged back home. You only returned after Tsar Nikolai's coronation, bringing Grisha you freed in Kerch.

Walking into the Little Palace after years away, you felt a strange feeling of wistfulness. You used to love walking the grounds of the little palace, often with Zoya or Nina, enjoying the nativity of childhood.

Standing on the steps leading into the Little Palace was Genya Saffin, neatly dressed in a pale gold Kefta. Once, she would be in a bright Red kefta to show her station as Corparlki, but now every Grisha wore the same Gold Kefta. Gold being the colour of the Ravkan Crown. She looked radiant, but you always thought that.

"Y/N," Genya greeted as you approached, "It's nice to see you again."

You smiled, reaching out and pulling her into a hug, "I've missed you."

Genya grinned, standing beside you as you looked out over the grounds. Grisha and Otkazat'sya were lounging in the autumn sun, enjoying a peaceful afternoon.

Genya told you to follow her, leading you up the stairs and into the palace. She ran you over the current operation, how Alina had set out to make friendships with Shu-Han and Nikolai was trying to win the war against Frejda.

"Zoya is in charge of training," Genya said, watching your face change at the mention of your best friend, "She's in a meeting with Nikolai and some of his Generals."

You nodded, "She always did say she would be the leader one day."

Genya couldn't help the smile that crept on her face as she heard your heart rate spike and watched a blush creep up your cheeks as she stared at you.

"Come," Genya insisted, leading you back down the stairs and towards the Palace. There were hardly any guards around the grounds, they used to patrol every inch of the palace grounds, but now they only did on the fences. Genya lead you into the Palace, through the winding halls and towards what you assumed must be the meeting room. You had never actually been in the main palace, it was an honour reserved for The Darkling's favourite Grisha and the servants of the crown.

Genya didn't have to knock on the doors, the two guards opened it for her without a second thought.

The room was occupied by a massive mahogany table, with enough chairs for every General in the Ravkan army. Only two people were sitting at the table, though. Tsar Nikolai and Zoya Nazyalensky.

You and Genya both curtsied, "Moi Tsar."

"Y/N?" Zoya was on her feet quickly, she rushed to you and pulled you into a tight hug. You savoured it, Zoya wasn't really one for hugs.

She pulled away and held you at arm's length, "You cut your hair."

You laughed, flicking her hair, "So did you. I like it." Zoya tried to hide the blush on her cheeks from Genya, you were blissfully unaware.

Nikolai stood from his seat at the head of the table, "Y/N L/N?" He walked over to the three of you, "I've heard a lot about you."

You looked between Zoya and the King, "Good things, I hope?"

Zoya rolled her eyes at your pointed stare. Nikolai looked between the two of you, and then to Genya to confirm what he was thinking. Genya was just smiling at the two of you being hopeless.

"Only good things," Nikolai answered, nudging Zoya playfully. In the last few weeks the two had become good friends, now Nikolai could see how smitten the squaller was.

You settled in quickly, the little palace always was and always could be your home. You quickly slipped into a routine, helping fellow Grisha with their training and even teaching Otkazat'sya how the small science worked. Zoya had valued your advice greatly, often letting you consult on decisions about your own powers.

Today, you both had cleared the afternoon to spend time together, having a picnic by the lake like you did when you were children.

Genya had been teasing Zoya about it for days, giggling at how the girl grew red in the face at the mention of you and her. Zoya had been dropping hints for a while, even before you parted ways before the Civil war. There was always something more between you.

You were laying on the grass in the sun, listening to Zoya rattle off what had happened during her morning.

You hummed once she finished, "Sounds..."

You searched for the right word. 'Exciting."

"Tiring," Zoya offered at the same time.

You laughed, turning your head to look at her. The sun cast her in a glow, framing her like a saint. To you, she might as well have been. You were always amazed by Zoya, her power, her mind... her beauty.

Zoya looked down at you, thinking similar things. Your hair was splayed underneath you, framing you in a kind of halo. You could have been her sun in your golden Kefta - which Zoya was convinced was your colour. Glowing up at her with a smile that warmed every part of her.

"Saints," Zoya mumbled, realizing how head over heels she was.

You blinked up at her, "What?"

Zoya felt her ears burning, she was not the fumbling blushing lover. She knew what she wanted and went for it.

You reached out for her hand, clasping it tightly, 'Somethings off with you."

Zoya scoffed, "You're imagining things."

You laughed, sitting up and moving a little closer.

"I think I'm seeing things very clearly."

"Oh? And what is it you see, Koshka?"

You giggled at the old nickname, one she had given you when you were both 12.

"You are as quiet as a cat, Y/N."

It gave you the same warm feeling now as it did then.

"I see a lot," You said defensively, watching Zoya quirk an eyebrow at you.

"I see the way Genya nudges you," You said, watching Zoya's face, "I see the way your ears get red when I compliment you and your brilliant mind."

"They do not," Zoya argued.

"They are right now!" You laughed, grabbing her face in your hands and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I love it when they do."

Zoya rolled her eyes, pretending to look irritated at you.

"I see the way you act all tough and intimidating," You continued, "The toll it takes on you."

It was true, the whole time you had known Zoya she was this way. In some ways, she needed to be. But you missed how gentle she was as a child and her love for Ravka.

"I see how hard you're working for our Grisha."

Zoya melted a little bit at the 'our Grisha'.

"And," You continued, grabbing both her hands again, "I see just how much your work is helping."

Zoya sighed softly, "Slowly."

"Slowly," You agreed, "but surely."

You both fell silent, you watched her face as she gazed over the lake.

"I think I needed to hear that," She said quietly.

"Can't be having our fearless leader forget how fantastic she is."

Zoya turned to you suddenly, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. With a sudden surge of confidence, she reached out, cupping your cheek in one hand and pressing her lips to yours. You kissed back almost immediately, your heart exploding in your chest. Your best friend, your Zoya, was finally kissing you.

When you both broke away, Zoya's face lit up in a grin.

You hummed a soft response, trying to show how you felt the same way. That made her smile even bigger. Her hand was still sitting gently on your cheek. You leaned into her hand, relishing the moment. You gently took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"Saints," You sounded breathy and Zoya leant in a little more, pressing her forehead to yours, "I love you."

[barbarianbookhoe]

I just finished King of Scars and bitches😭

My brain was trying to get used to the mood swings between chapters, like:

I'm going to read Rule of Wolves tomorrow, but I'm shitting rocks

[dakotaawolven]

Three days pass relatively quietly, and Zoya splits her time between her duties as Commander Nazyalensky and entertaining her best friend. Alina barely leaves her rooms since no one is supposed to know who—or what—she is yet, but between her and Ivan, they manage to sneak the Sun Summoner into the library and out to the stables a time or two. She's thankful that at least Genya can spend the majority of the day with Alina, so she's never alone for more than an hour or so. Zoya knows how much Alina hates to be alone.

She is halfway to Alina's rooms when someone falls into step beside her and she looks over to see David. “I have the kefta you requested,” he says quietly, motioning to the article draped over his arm and she smiles.

—Chapter 6 of Chasing Twisters

[crewman-penelope]

Lost and found

You waited until 3 am. Just before changing of the guards .

The former, tired and hungry. The fresh one not yet on place.

A week in the holding cell, waiting and listening to the noises inside the facility, you became familiar with the schedules.

Guards, who brought the food tray in silence. Soggy porridge and herb tea. A hole in the ground. No running water. Light always switched on. A rather soft treatment for a scientist, unwilling to obey a clearly mad medicus.

The first steps into his laboratories made it absolute clear. You would not work on any form of virus farm without the possibility to work also on an antidote!

Her new wannabe employer seemed thankfully (?) a rather old-fashioned mad man. Not wanting to pressure a woman too harshly, but taking his time breaking her. Strange name and an even stranger face, his appearance was short as mysterious. No word, only a firm glance. Changed with you, then with the guards.

Unspoken orders, a firm grip. No threats. The cell was answer enough.

After a week of waiting, observing, and learning to find sleep under this circumstances, you took the risiko.

You were surprised how easily you had found your way out of the submarine pen. Finding yourself first soothed by the change from congret grey to forest green, you eventually understood that this was just the beginning. Searchparty clearly already on its way. A game of hide and seek.

Frozen and with wet as dirty clothing you eventually found shelter. Congret again. This time with embrasure, half closed by overgrowing fern. The ground was at least covered with soft moss.

Sleep came not easy for you. The wakening was rather .. thrilling.

You woke up dizzy. Your mind was as foggy as the air. For a moment, you laid still, listening. No bird noises. Instead, cracking wood and rattling bushes.

You got up slowly, crouching and eager to run, while watching the entrance of the old militar shelter. Your heart drumming in your chest, you understood you should had ran the moment the firm steps were to hear.

A shadow appeared at the entrance. A slender figure in blue and green. Storm-blue eyes pierced down to you. The mouth formed to a sharp smile. His voice was shockingly soft and warm.

"Found you, darling."

Taglist:

@daughterofthesilmaril 😘 @silverlambcaptain @infinitegalahad @koshi-sama @padawansubscription @villainworshiper @tired-writter-club @deliciousfestsalad @one-boring-person @cynic-spirit send me a message, if you don't like to be tagged.

[nichyevosobachka]

New part!

Zoya: Genya, help! Zoya: [screenshot] Zoya: Do you know what this is about? Zoya: Or how I can help him?

[april-december]

Prompts being filled!

If you would like your own Tailor-made (haha) Grishaverse fic, see here

Prompted:

Balcony + Zoyalai

Shoulder + Zoyalai

Completed prompts:

Invitation + Malkolina

Bikini + Helnik

Floorboards + Zoyalina

Piercings + Helnik

Currently working on:

Balcony + Zoyalai

[lostghostcallisto]

Can someone PLEASE recommend some good six of crows fanfics??! I need it rn. The new season of shadow and bone is killing me and fuelling my obsession

[seoll3miwrites]

- Multi-Chapter Stories -

Back to Welcome | Oneshot Masterlist Doing Time || Spencer Reid x OC

Hana Fedorov is the BAU’s newest agent, she’s sarcastic, intelligent and slightly crazy. She also happens to be the adoptive daughter and protégée of one of the FBI’s most wanted hitmen. After the FBI become aware of a online network of hitmen they hire Hana to help in the investigation. What no one on the team expected was the unlikely relationship formed between Hana and their resident genius.

Ancient Princess || The Witcher

After the disaster at Caingorn Jaskier thought he was destined to be alone in the world. Until one day while wandering deep the forest just trying to make it home, he stumbles upon something he never expected. An ancient elven city. When he entered the city he’d didn’t think he come out of it with a young elven princess with a great destiny in tow. Perhaps he had more in common with Geralt than he thought. Note: This was written before Blood Origin and Season 3 so expect canon divergence

La Vie En Rose || Bruce Wayne x OC

Rosie has been the PA for the infamous Bruce Wayne for the last 5 years. Although closer to Bruce than anyone else at Wayne industries, the closer she got to him and the Wayne family she realised she didn't know her boss as much as she thought. Honestly I basically made Batman into a K-Drama but I don't not care.