#for Alina & this can be whenever you want! (:

[luminescenc1e]

“ You should try and attack me. ” Unmoving he stood facing her. The mornings had lost that summer warmth and a chill had permeated the air. It was nicer to be outside, but where they stood, further away from the stables, there had been no one else. “ I haven’t seen what Baghra had been teaching you. ”

He could imagine, having gone through her rigorous training centuries before. She was an unforgiving teacher, choosing to use force and intimidation freely, traits that he had picked up willingly or not.

Not that he had much practice in teaching, that wasn’t something that held any interest, but with Alina, he could assist. “ Maybe you can imagine I’m someone you want to hurt. ” There was a smile now as he spoke, moving slowly to the side. “ And let’s see if I can defend myself from you. ”

for @gccdstories from the starter call / accepting.

[recklessmatt]

no longer - m.s ꕤᡣ𐭩

PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

GENRE(S): smut and fluff

SUMMARY: you and matt taking things to another level together despite having no experience (you guys just being dorky ngl)

WARNINGS: smut [virgin!matt, virgin!reader, protected sex, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), pet names, profanities]

when you entered the house the first thing you heard was matt yelling through the walls which causes you to make a face. you come to the realization that he’s most likely playing games with nick and chris. with a sigh, you softly knock on his door alerting him of your arrival. when there was no answer, you opened the door gently peeking your head in. matt turns his head towards his door when he notices movement from his peripheral vision, relaxing once he realizes its just you. “hi baby. i didn’t realize you were here already” matt gives you a smile opening his arms ready to embrace you. you enter his room fully, closing the door behind you and walk up to him wrapping your arms around his neck. he looks up at you from his seat puckering his lips for a kiss. you giggle leaning down giving him a peck. 

“do you wanna pick a movie out to watch while i log off?” matt asks looking up at you with his hands around your waist. you nod and he lets go of your waist allowing you to hop onto his bed grabbing the remote to pick something out to watch. you hear nick and chris complain through matt’s headset about him leaving but matt ignores their complaints shutting down his computer. once it’s all off, he hops into bed getting cozy with you and wrapping his arms around you. you immediately wrap your arm around his torso and your leg on top of his legs while laying on his chest. you press play on the remote and let the movie play.

while about halfway through the movie you feel that matt’s gaze was focused on you rather than the movie. you look up at him immediately catching his eye. “you’re supposed to be watching the movie.” you say. “but you’re so pretty.” he says with smile while caressing your head. this makes you blush and you avert your attention to the screen to avoid his gaze.  “look at me love.” you hear matt say. you turn your head towards him looking him in the eyes. he quickly looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes. “can i kiss you?” matt says leaning in closer, lips ghosting over each other. “yes” you whisper, and with that, the space between you two closes.

it was slow, soft, and sweet, he wanted to take his time with you, he wanted to savor the feeling. matt deepens the kiss placing his hand against your cheek and jaw, you softly moan into his mouth and he copied you moaning into yours when he feels you place your hand against the back of his neck trying to pull him closer. matt slowly rolls you over so now he is on top while you are underneath him, and he moves his hand down to your waist pressing his fingers onto your exposed skin while he gently bites down on your bottom lip. the action causes you to gasp allowing matt to slide his tongue in. both of your tongues danced around together for a little while until he pulls away. 

matt’s lips find your neck, placing light butterfly kisses all around not leaving a spot on you untouched. you moan lightly once you feel him suck lightly around a specific spot. he lifts his head up,

“do you wanna keep going?” he whispers against your lips. you look into his eyes finding his already staring into yours looking for a sign of hesitation. 

you and matt have been together for a couple months and the farthest you two have gotten was making out. you both talked about your sex lives in the past, and you weren’t interested in having sex with anyone, but that was until you met matt. he made you feel things you’ve never felt before, he always gave you butterflies whenever you two were together. you were nervous to tell him that you were a virgin, but when he told you he was also a virgin. you weren’t gonna lie you were shocked when he told you, but it did make you feel a little bit better. he never pressured you into doing anything you weren’t ready to do and he always was there for you no matter what. so to say you were nervous was an understatement, but you know you can trust him.

“yes.” you whisper lowly. matt smiles and closes the space between you two. you both move your lips in sync until matt breaks the kiss.

“can i remove this?” he asks tugging on your shirt. you nod lifting your arms up. he sits up slightly to be able to pull your shirt over your head. once your shirt is removed, he also pulls his off tossing both of them to the end of the bed. he looks back at you now noticing you have your arms covering your breasts due to the lack of a bra.

“don’t cover yourself sweetheart, you’re so pretty.” he says gently grabbing your hands slowly prying them away from your body. matt looks down at your body gaping at you. you feel shy under his gaze looking down at your hands in your lap. you then feel matt’s finger lift your chin up.

“you’re so beautiful.” he says kissing you while gently getting on top of you and leaving a trail of kisses down your body getting closer to your heat. matt stopped until he was facing your core.

“is it okay if i try something?” he asks rubbing his thumb against the bone of your hip. you nod in anticipation.

matt tugs at your pants and you help him by lifting up your hips so he can easily remove them. he pulls them off throwing them to the end of the bed where the rest of your clothes were. you feel your heartbeat pump even faster feeling very exposed. you let out a big breath which makes matt look up at you.

“i’m nervous too sweetheart don’t worry. let me know if anything hurts.” matt gives you a lighthearted smile grabbing your hands.

you feel matt lightly kiss your inner thigh getting closer to your core which gets you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“fuck.” he mumbles upon seeing the lace panties covering your core then lifting your legs over his shoulders while he gets comfortable with his face in front of your spread legs. 

he leans in, leaving a soft kiss to your clit through your panties. the action causes you to shudder and let out a whimper. matt smirks pulling your panties to the side and dives into your folds, dragging his tongue from your hole to your clit. your head flopped onto the pillow behind you, while he messily ate you out.

“oh fuck that feels so good.” you moan out. he hummed against your core which made you arch your back feeling the vibrations travel throughout your body. matt was subconsciously grinding into the bed to relieve some of the pressure on his hard cock. he continued to run his tongue across your folds, lapping at it and sucking on your clit leaving you moaning out loud. 

"can i remove these?" matt asks tugging at your panties. all you do is nod and lift up your hips allowing him access.

tossing them to the side he looks up at you from below, “i’m gonna use my fingers okay?” all you can do is nod from the overwhelming pleasure. you feel matt insert a finger and you let out a shaky breath. he pumps his finger in and out slowly being careful trying not to hurt you.

“mmm that feels g-good” you mumble out.

matt inserts another finger into your hole, pumping in and out at a steady pace. 

“fuckkk” you moan out as he picks up his pace. 

suddenly you feel his tongue against your clit again feeling the pleasure increase. you felt your stomach tie into knots as you felt his tongue lap at your clit.

“w-wait. i don’t wanna cum yet.” you grab ahold of his wrist, chest rising up and down trying to catch your breath. matt halted his actions, lifting his head up giving you a peck on the lips.

“did you like it?” he asks cheekily. you gave him a look.

“how did you know what to do?” you asked narrowing your eyes at him.

“porn.” he shrugs nonchalantly which causes you to let out a laugh. 

“can i give you a blowjob?” you ask nervously. matt’s eyes widen.

“um-i mean-y-yea” he stutters out taken aback from your question. you let out a giggle seeing his expression. 

he leans back on his bed as you crawl on top of him, leaving a trail of kisses down his body. you hear matt inhale sharply when you reach his stomach. you palm your hand over his hard on slowly rubbing him through his sweats. he lets out a whimper feeling you rub him. you tug at his sweats signaling you need them off and he gladly lifts up his hips to help you. once they’re off along with his underwear, you’re met with his member face to face, you open your jaw in shock not expecting him to be BIG like that. matt notices your facial expression and chuckles.

“what?” he asks. 

“dude, you’re BIG. how is this supposed to fit in me?” you look up at him, and all he does is laugh.

“sorry?” he says.

“yea yea yea” you mumble rolling your eyes which causes him to laugh again. 

you gently grab his member, wrapping your soft hands around it. matt lets out a quiet groan at the feeling. you slowly pump him up and down his shaft carefully trying not to hurt him. matt moans lowly. 

“you okay?” you ask him worried.

“no yea it just feels really good.” he says throwing his head back. 

you continue to pump him when you see precum leaking his tip, you lightly lick at his tip which causes him to shudder. you continue to give kitten licks to his tip, licking up a small stripe, then taking him in your mouth, lips wrapping around the tip of his cock swirling your tongue around.

“fuck baby” he moans out loud. 

you take him down your throat being mindful of your teeth. you flatten your tongue against him, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. you go a little faster when you hear him groan out. you continue to swirl your tongue all around and sucking on him like you’ve been starved. you then start to feel him twitch in your mouth until he pulls you off.

“i didn’t wanna cum yet.” he says while his chest is rising up and down.

“was that good?” you asked sitting up wiping your chin off. 

“um yea, how did you know what to do?” he narrows his eyes at you this time. you smile cheekily.

“porn.” you state giggling and matt lets out a chuckle then leaning in to kiss you.

“you ready my love?” he asks lowly against your lips. you look into his eyes finding nothing but pure love.

“yeah.” you nod sucking in a breath. 

you lean back onto his bed as he grabs a condom from his nightstand drawer. you watch as he unwraps it and places the rubber on his member. he proceeds to get on top of you, spreading your legs and wrapping them around his waist. you grab his biceps as his arms are holding himself up on each side of you. matt looks down at you.

“let me know if it’s too much okay? i’ll stop immediately.” he says holding your cheek. you look up at him nodding. 

matt grabs his shaft with his right hand positioning himself in front of you entrance. his heart was pounding in his chest and his tongue nervously swipes across his bottom lip. he guided his cock inside of you, stretching into your walls ever so slowly. you shut your eyes and bite on your lower lip when you feel a burning sensation. it hurt bad. 

“fuck” you wince out shakily feeling your eyes well up with tears.

“i’m sorry sweetheart, it’ll be over soon.” matt leans his forehead against yours after kissing your tears away. 

you hold his hand tightly as he entwines his fingers with yours, matt continues to push the rest of him into your tight walls and you let out a pained moan as you feel him stretching your insides. you both let out whimpers and moans after feeling matt push into you fully. you both take a deep breath waiting to adjust to each other.

“you doing okay?” he asked breathless wiping your tears away.

you nod. “you can move now.” 

matt rocks his hips into yours, his cock sliding in and out of you in a steady but slow rhythm. you wince as you felt discomfort, but soon enough the uncomfortable feeling faded into pleasure. matt tucked his head into the crook of your neck groaning at the sensation he was feeling. he felt an unimaginable amount of pleasure feeling your tight walls wrap around his cock. 

“matt, more please” you moan out.

“oh fuckkk” matt moans out, picking up his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes his bedroom along with the sounds of pleasure escaping both of your guys’ mouths. 

your walls were suffocating his cock with every thrust. you gripped onto matt’s bicep tightly, holding on for dear life. his bottom lip was caught on his teeth as a slick of sweat trails down from his forehead. 

“harder matt” you begged. matt lets out a loud groan, sitting up and gripping onto your waist slamming himself into you at a steady pace. this new angle has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head. you both were breathing heavily, heart beating rapidly, bodies on fire.

“oh my you’re so tight around me baby” matt moans out throwing his head back, thrusting into you hard and fast. 

“o-oh just like that, just like that!” you yell out when you feel him hit a particular spot inside that has you arching your back gripping onto the bed sheets. 

matt leans down meeting your lips, sloppily kissing you as he ruts into you. you cup his face as you feel yourself getting closer to your climax. 

“b-babe i’m c-close” you stutter out. 

“m-me too” matt stumbles out leaning against your forehead, his thrusts become sloppy as he feels his peak getting closer. 

with one final hard thrust, matt twitched inside of you letting a string of profanities escape his lips as he feels his cum filling up the condom as you threw your head back as an intense, tingling feeling spread all through your body. desperately clutching at matt as you coated his cock with your cum, your entire body trembling. you both were trying to catch your breath as you rode each other’s high out. you both look at each other with dopey smiles letting out a small giggle. he pecks your lips and slowly pulls out of you, both of you wincing at the contact. 

he plops down next to you, the energy being drained out of both of you. you both are staring at the ceiling in silence as the movie you turned on was finished.

“we’re no longer virgins” he states raising his fist indicating a fist bump. you turn to him and scoff fist bumping him back. 

author's note: omg hi guys i missed you 🥹, this story was in the drafts for a while but i never got around to writing bc i got lazy and i wrote this mad quick so its not my best work oh well i got excited so hopefully you enjoy thank yew very much love you all sexies <3

YOU CAN ALSO SEND IN REQUESTS OR JUST YAP TO ME IN MY INBOX IDGAF im friendly and funny i promise. taglist: @luverboychris @gvf23 @sturniolo-fann @zivall @stonermattsgf @sturniolo-slvt @shadowthesim @mattandchrismakemewett @sturniclo @nmegamett20 @strmbolisworld @sturnsintrouble

REQUEST:

[drinix]

A Vow for Eternity

03 - Do I wanna know?

General Kirigan X reader

Part 02

Warnings: None at all. This series encompass mainly romance, fluff, angst.

Summary: A Princess embroiled in an arranged betrothal to the most feared General Aleksander Kirigan, the leader of the Second Army in Ravka. Would this be a mere political alliance or something more than it meets the eye?

Happy Reading!!

Bonus:

“It’s better than being engaged to a Prince in Fjearda, a Duke in Shu-Han or a politician in Ketterdam” You sighed as Genya styled your hair into loose curls. “At least I get to stay in Ravka, in the premises of the Grand Palace”

Genya smiled as she ran her fingers through your hair making sure not to make it messy. You had been requested to attend a dinner party hosted by the Queen and coincidentally the General was invited too. Almost a week had elapsed since your taxing first encounter at the Winter Fete and not once did he visit you since then, except sending Genya to attend to your needs and keeping two of his soldiers at your door.

Your father had left for Ketterdam again due to certain commitments related to diplomatic affairs so you were left in the Grand Palace with no one to talk to except Genya as your cousins were mostly tied down by horse races in Caryeva or engrossed in building ships and purchasing state of the art weapons to fight the many wars that the country was enmeshed in. The absence of their company led to you and Genya becoming friends in no time.

“Don’t stress too much about the dinner, princess.” Genya said, as she added final touches to your face. “Will the King take part in it too?”

“Most probably, yes. He is the one who set this up after all. I have no idea how long this dinner will go on” You heard Genya sighing as you said it. You weren’t sure whether it was a sigh of despair or relief. It sounded more like the latter.

“Is everything all right, Genya?” You turned towards her, reaching out for her hand. “You can tell me anything, you know” Genya looked at you in the corner of her eyes. “Nothing y/n. I’m more than fine” Yeah you could see that. Genya has been acting weirdly whenever you mentioned the King.

“You are most gorgeous today, y/n” Genya diverted the topic. “General Kirigan won’t be able to take his eyes off you” She giggled before mimicking General Kirigan’s deep voice. “You look lovely my y/n”

You scoffed at how she poised exactly like him, commanding the attention of the entire world to him. “He will be taunted at the thought of sitting next to me, so will I. Besides, I assume he has more significant concerns that need his attention than me” Everyone was buzzing about how the Sun Summoner trailed behind everywhere General Kirigan went. Clearly Alina was not fond of your betrothal to the General. You tried to shrug off the thought of Alina being General’s significant other. No need for you to worry about it anyway.

As you made your way towards the dining hall, a familiar figure in the black kefta was standing in the hallway turning his back to you.

“Princess, I have been waiting for you.” His voice resounded through the passageway as he turned back to face you. His attention in the blink of an eye turned to your dress.

You felt as if your throat throbbed with a hard swallow as his unfaltering gaze trailed down from your face over to where your black silky dress embraced your hips, the scrutiny was almost obscene and erotic like the physical touch of a lover who wouldn’t step back without mapping every inch of your body with his attention.

You wished you had worn something else instead of the black dress Genya chose for you. Something simple enough not to intrigue his attention taking in every detail of you. All your life, you were the one who saw through the people who often left unnoticed. For once, you wanted to be noticed by someone, immersing in every intricate trifle about you. And he noticed you. He looked at you in the way every woman wanted to be looked at.

“I thought you’d be busy with work to attend the dinner” You already knew about his hectic work schedule and how duty conscious he is.

“This is a part of my work too moya tsarevna” He muttered, whilst shooting a glance towards the dining hall.

“Isn’t it tiresome to work day and night and not having a moment for yourself ? Or is it a luxury that you cannot afford?”

“If I had chosen to indulge in luxuries of life then the Grisha won’t be recognized as they are today without having to run away from being persecuted” That glare of him could pierce through the thin ice that you were in. “Are you always so keen to be annoying ?”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to” You had ruffled his black wispy feathers and secretly enjoyed every moment of it. “I’m famished. Shall we?” Continuing to bicker with each other was not the best of ideas, specially when you were in a place where everyone kept an eagle eye on your every move.

You said, gesturing towards to the hall. He nodded, offering you his arm. You looked up at him with a doubtful expression.

“Hold my hand princess, otherwise they would get the wrong impression.” He said, stepping closer to you.

“Which is?” You entwined your hand with his.

“That we have become two nemeses who are always at each other’s throats” You were so close to each other that the tufts of your tousled hair were touching his face as it billowed in the wind, while you two walked into the hall. He didn’t seem to mind it.

“Isn’t it the truth though? You just made it obvious that you can’t stand me” You whispered under breath as you saw the King and the Queen at the table.

“Did I?” His deep yet softened words tingled in your ear, sending a spike of chill down your spine.

“We thought of making this rather an intimate dinner” The queen interrupted your conversation. “It’s been some time since all of us sat together for dinner. Now that we have a new member in the family, this is the perfect time”

A table lied in the hall filled with sumptuous food with just the King, Queen, Vasily, Nikolai, you and of course your Black General. Vasily was the Commander of the First Army sitting at the same table as the General Kirigan, the Leader of the Second Army. The tension was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Vasily’s disparaging stances of Grisha were no secret to anyone in the palace.

“I agreed to this dinner because of you, y/n. Not that I’d enjoy this dinner specially in the presence of our esteemed General Kirigan.” He gestured the butler to pour wine to his glass.

“Likewise, moi tsarevich” General Kirigan seethed, casually gulping his Kvas. “We both have a common reason for being here” He laced his fingers in yours delicately which left you surprised with incredulity.

“Ah….I almost forgot to send my congratulations your way, y/n, on your rather quaint betrothal.” Vasily sneered at you without batting an eye to the stern glance of his father. He heaved a deep sigh before opening his mouth to speak what he was going to say next. “Or should I say my condolences?”

You felt the General’s harsh squeeze on your hand as his darkly obsidian eyes were locked on Vasily with seething rage which could tear him into pieces. His clenched jaw and throbbing veins in his neck denoted how enraged he was at the preposterous remark of your cousin.

As his dark wisps of shadows engulfed the room, you put your hand over his, gently stroking his fingers while casting a soft glance in his eyes. As his eyes met with yours, his boiling rage subsided as the darkness that encompassed the room gradually disappeared.

It was an impulsive gesture which left you in a dilemma as to why you were compelled to do it in the first place. Maybe you wanted to evade a brawl between the two of them.

“We are quite happy to be in this union, Vasily” You lied downright.

“Indeed” General Kirigan affirmed, smiling gently at you. “Sometimes when I look at her I wonder, how I got so lucky” You were not certain whether he actually meant that or it was another sarcasm of his to get under your skin.

“Congratulations to you, on behalf of all of us” The King finally opened his mouth. The mastermind behind the tumult of a betrothal that you were enmeshed in.

“Public announcements have been already made and what is left for us to do is planning the wedding” The Queen beamed with excitement. Of course, she was so thrilled about your wedding as throwing banquets, tea parties, and many celebrations for the most trivial reasons were one of her best forte.

Your lips twitched in surprise as you didn’t expect the table to turn this way.

“Right now?” You muttered. “Isn’t it too early for such celebrations?”

“I don’t think it would be a sensible idea to rush into things as of yet, moya tsaritsa” General Kirigan cut in. “I’m rather occupied with my duties at the Little Palace, with the arrival of the Sun Summoner.” The latter part of his response made your eyes roll. His subdued yet authoritative tone made the Queen drew back her propositions. “Perhaps, Princess y/n may need some time getting used to her life in the palace”. You nodded in agreement. There was nothing new for you to get used to except General Kirigan, yet you nodded your head so hard that made Nikolai almost cackle.

“In your own pace then, General Kirigan” She said, diffidently.

You summoned a smile, casting a sideway glance at the General, quite elated that he played along with you.

“Please enjoy the food, otherwise it will get cold” The last thing the King wanted to see was the alliance he set up so tactically to fall apart because his eldest couldn’t keep his mouth shut or his wife couldn’t stop meddling with it. Nikolai was notably silent. You knew he was never fond of being in the presence of Vasily. No one was actually.

After that awkwardly intolerable dinner which engendered almost a brawl between Vasily and General Kirigan, the General offered to walk you to your room.

“That dinner was the worst dinner I’ve ever had in my life” He didn’t look so fussy about it though.

“Now we’re talking” You teased, looking at him.

“It was terrible, even I agree”

It was a respite that you two at least had something to agree upon.

“We make a really good team, considering all the drama at the dinner today” He looked back at you.

“You have such exceptional acting skills, General. I’ll give you that” You chuckled.

“I just stated the truth, Princess. I didn’t pretend to have something that does not exist ”

“I lied about us”

“I didn’t” He said. As he stressed those words, a wave of confusion wafted over you.

You paused walking for a while at the arched long windows of the corridor. The moon glistened in the sky, with sparkling constellations surrounding it. You stared at the sky in awe of its beauty. You never really got the chance watch the stars which was one of the hobbies that you loved, since you came back to the palace.

“Do you like watching the stars, princess” He asked as he leaned against the window, next to you.

“Yes. They are so beautiful” A radiant smiled adorned your lips as your eyes were riveted in the stars.

“Captivating” He whispered, facing you.

You flicked your gaze back to him. “The stars, you mean?”

“No, I mean you” There he was, looking at you like there was something worth looking at. His expression was serious. But you liked how it softened slightly when he looked at you. His lips never moved yet his eyes communicated and spoke louder than any of his actions.

You felt your cheeks flushing as you looked down averting his gaze. It was the first time that someone ever said something like that to you; someone that you wanted to be complimented by.

“Thank you, I guess” You blurted out. “I know this betrothal is difficult for you as much as it’s to me. But I don’t want you to hate me or pretend to like me. It’ll only make things more aggravating”

“Does this look like I’m pretending to like you, princess?” Maybe, yes. Given your aristocratic status, you were often in the company of people with plastered smiles on the faces, insipid conversations and a plethora of deceptive pretenses of how delighted they were to be in your presence. Given how he treated you at the Winter Fete, maybe a hard yes.

“I cannot deny that you can be a little irksome sometimes. But we can work it out” He smirked.

“You are exasperating, General. In case, if you haven’t noticed.” A cheeky smile settled on your face. “Parading in your fur cloaks as if you are some prima donna”

His chestnut eyes traced down from your eyes, to your nose tip to every inch of your lips. “I do know how to look the part”

Indeed he knew, in every sense of the word.

There were men. Generally handsome men. Then there was General Kirigan.

“Princess” It made you come back to reality from your distraction in a flash. “If you wouldn’t mind, would you like to go horseback riding with me, tomorrow morning? I got to know that you’re so fond of horse riding” You felt his hand tangled in your hand as his fingers lightly brushed against your skin, sending an electrifying sensation through your core.

How the heck did he come to know that?

“Since when have you started to care about things I like?” You replied with another question without moving your hand back this time.

“I’m not your enemy” He said. “There are certain things that I want us to come to terms and this is one of them.”

[aleksanderscult]

Zoya was being celebrated as the true queen and Aleksander was being called horrible untrue names under a post and I would like to be petty. Would you help me in this pettiness by pointing out all the times Zoya was overly horrible and an unfit ruler?

Another day where I wish I had read Nikolai's duology just so I could talk about those kind of moments.

But you know what? She was horrible in the trilogy too!

The way she greeted Alina by being contemptuous and trying to undermine her value:

The way she slammed her to a wall because Alina beat her and that was too much for her:

Alina had already taken the Darkling's attentions from her (although I doubt she had his attention that much) but to humiliate her like that in front of others? Not on her watch!

Apparently she was unnecessarily mean to Genya as well:

Zoya shows scorn and mockery towards Genya and her job as the Queen's servant. Her arrogance for considering herself as better than anyone else is showing in every page she appears.

The first time Zoya displayed interest in becoming Queen wasn't out of a true concern for the kingdom and its people but for the benefits this position would give her: wealth and prestige.

(and then Leigh made her queen🙂)

Another important and prevalent part of her personality is her hot-temper and recklessness. I've read only a couple of her POVs from "King of Scars" and whenever someone provokes them she snaps at them, yells or threatens. If you want to become a true leader then you need to be calm, logical and diplomatic. Many will try to hit you where you hurt through insults, indirect remarks etc. But you can't just rise from your sit and start yelling curses.

Zoya's character is simply not fit to become a leader, let alone a Queen. How will she successfully control a kingdom and its problems when she cannot control her own temper?

(for many more examples about her behaviour in Nikolai's duology, I'll ask the assistance of @stromuprisahat. She has read the duology and can give a deeper explanation about why Zoya sucks as Queen)

[heliads]

Hii Lisa my beloved!💕💕 I'm in my Kaz phase again and some stupid ideas have been running through my head constantly. Hoping you could turn it into a wonderful fic, if you like the idea of course.

Kaz x reader with slight Nikolai x reader😌

So, reader is a Grisha with healing abilities (hidden like Alina). After a tragic event, the loss of their family hit hard and they were taken into care by some people that worked at the palace. That's where reader met Nikolai, they became best friends and later enrolled in Army, became lovers all of that. Reader's healing powers were slightly special in the sense that when they used them there was a golden glow all around, making the wrong people believe reader was a sun summoner. After being madly in love for some time, reader got kidnapped for their powers. Tortured for 2 years, reader was saved by our lovely Crows. Reader believed Nikolai never looked for them (false because he did desperately until he ran away and became Sturmhond after believing that reader died)

Reader becomes a Crow, falls in love with Kaz, they have a relationship for 2 years or so and then, one day they fight about something and right at that time, Nikolai makes his way to their bar. Reader and Nikolai have an emotional meeting that leaves Kaz insecure and jealous.

The ending...well I think reader should stay with Kaz buut I'm not opposed to something else👀

Whatever you want my dear Lisa. I hope this makes sense and it's not too insane. I love you and thank you💕

my beloved!!! this request is literally incredible, why are your ideas always exquisite????

masterlist

You don’t like it when Ketterdam is quiet. This jilted city of yours is always loud, always rowdy, and on the few instances in which it isn’t, the whole place seems to hold its breath, just waiting for something bad to happen. Sometimes you hear things you shouldn’t when there’s no background noise to cover it up. Sometimes, worst of all, you dream. 

This dream is not a good one. You only know this after waking. The dream leaves quickly, as all dreams do, slipping back away under cover of night to haunt some other sleeper. You let it pool in your trembling hands, dripping out through your fingers despite your best attempts to stop it from abandoning you. It must have been a tumultuous dream indeed, because for a moment you thought you were back. Back in Ravka. Back with him. 

Ravka is not yours anymore. It was, once upon a time, or so you let yourself believe. You were born in a small village near Adena, home mostly to craftsmen without merit and tradesmen with a fear of leaving their homes. It was a quiet, get-what-you-will existence for the most part, up until the point when you reattached a woman’s severed leg with a wave of your hand and discovered you were a Grisha.

Healers are valuable commodities in a war-torn nation, and you were shipped off to Os Alta before you knew it. It would have been lonely there in a city fiercely divided between Grisha and non-Grisha, were it not for the one friend you made there. A prince, of all people. A second son who wanted nothing more to run. Nikolai Lantsov.

You and Nikolai were just children when you met. It took years of close friendship for you to trust each other enough to fall in love, and even then, it was your best kept secret. Princes do not fall in love with witches. Grisha do not fall in love with mortal men. You kissed him behind locked doors and swore it would be enough for you, even if it wasn’t.

Perhaps it would have been, if Fate had been content to let you rest in mere complacency. There was one singular trait that separated you from the rest of the Corporalnik Healers at the Little Palace, one minor mark of difference. You can heal a patient just as well as anybody else, but for some reason, you glow when you do it. A warm, golden light emits from your palms whenever you use your gifts. His sunbeam, Nikolai used to call you.

Maybe people listened in too closely when they shouldn’t have. Maybe someone connected dots that didn’t exist. Maybe it’s just that in a country like Ravka, a country split by the Shadow Fold, a country in desperate need of Saints, it would be easy to overlook someone’s mortality in the hopes of discovering their own salvation.

That��s your best guess as to what happened to you. What you remember best is the aftermath, not the reason. You were taken from Os Alta in the dead of night, your hands bound in chains so you couldn’t fight or use your gift. You tried to scream, but they had a Squaller, a damned traitor, who stole the breath from your lungs before any sound could be heard.

They tortured you for two months, hoping you’d break and show that you really were the Sun Summoner they’d get paid to sell. It never happened, so they dug harder, cut you more, cared even less. You waited in dark and squalid rooms for someone to rescue you, someone like Nikolai, but no one came. No one Ravkan, at least.

You always wondered if you could put a time cap on the love of a prince. It turns out you can:  four months and six days is all it took for Nikolai Lantsov to give up on you. You spent four months and six days waiting for him before hearing that he’d officially stopped mourning you in public to go to university, and the remainder of those two years in wondering how little he must have cared for you to give up just like that. 

You have no doubt that your captors would have spent far longer than two pathetic years in trying to extract a Sun Saint from your exhausted spirit were it not for your rescuer. A far different savior than you expected, to be sure, far more bloodthirsty than any guardian angel you’ve ever heard about, but he did the job. He always does.

That’s Dirtyhands for you, you suppose, he gets what he wants. And if what he wants is a Healer at the low cost of having to break into a smuggler’s ship while it paused briefly in the Kerch harbor for supplies, so be it. Kaz Brekker was there for money and he was there for a new soldier to serve in his gang. You happened to fit both bills.

At first, you hadn’t known if you were actually safe or in even more danger than before. At least Kaz wasn’t torturing you outright– that was a start, wasn’t it? You didn’t trust him in the slightest at first, nor him with you. It took months of slow, apprehensive acceptance for that to happen.

It took longer for hesitant acquaintanceship to turn into friendship, and for friendship to turn to something more. Something like happiness. Something like the pure contentment of knowing that there is one person out there who would burn the whole world down if you were ever hurt. Nikolai mourned you for an appropriate time, but if the roles were reversed and you were in Ketterdam when you were kidnapped, Kaz would never accept your loss. 

He’s all but told you this himself. There was one instance in your first six months of being in the Barrel when another Grisha hunter decided you would make decent prey. You were only an hour later than expected, but ten men were killed and a pleasure house burnt to the ground by the time Kaz got you back. You never feared getting taken again. You think he’s quite proud of that, even if he’ll never admit it to a living soul. Only the dead tell no tales. 

So the Barrel is your home, so bloody kruge becomes your daily bread and butter. You wouldn’t want any other life. There is always the fear that you would someday lose that confidence, but you swore that time was over. Apparently not, though. 

All that time spent learning to live again, and you still wake up in cold sweats, half sure that you’re back in your birth country and no better off than when you started. Kaz doesn’t deserve that. Your guilty conscience makes you want to beg his forgiveness, so you slip out of your room and up the stairs to his office without a second thought.

You know better than to think that Kaz Brekker would be asleep a few hours past dawn. You’re not entirely sure that he ever sleeps at all. It wouldn’t surprise you if he found a way to optimize his waking hours such that he never needed to close his eyes. Being able to capitalize on the time everyone else spent sleeping would certainly give him a leg up in the race of the Barrel rats. 

Sometimes, when he’s feeling charitable, Kaz lets you heal him just a little bit, not the sort of injury reduction associated with broken bones but that of eliminating exhaustion. You’ve learned how to use your gifts without touching skin. Maybe that’s why he wanted your skills on his side in the first place, just in case. 

The door creaks slightly when you come in. It is well within Kaz’s powers to oil the dratted thing, but you think he likes the sound. It serves as a warning of an intruder if he needs one, a reminder that he is no longer alone. It tells him that you are here now, and he looks up from his seat at his desk. The only sign that these aren’t normal working hours for anyone else is the slight dishevelment of his appearance, dark hair falling haphazardly over his eyes from being frustratedly pushed out of the way one too many times, his clothes rumpled and jacket removed.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks.

“Could you?” You return.

Kaz rolls his eyes. “I don’t need sleep.”

“Of course you do,” you say matter-of-factly, “You’re still human, Kaz, despite your best efforts to turn yourself into a machine.”

“I think it would be less productive to be a machine,” Kaz muses as he considers the stacks of ledgers before him, “think of the rust. Also, I don’t trust any gadget not to break down when you need it most.”

You snort, closing the door behind you and walking to the window behind his desk. “Machines aren’t the only ones breaking down all the time. People do that too.”

Your voice trails off on your last sentence, and Kaz cuts off his stare with his ledgers, turning his chair to face you. When he speaks again, his tone is gentle. It would surprise anyone but you.

“You’ve had another nightmare about Ravka again, haven’t you?”

You deliberate over your words, opting instead to perch on Kaz’s window seat and draw your legs up to your chest. He already knows the answer, anyway. “Yes,” you reply at last.

Kaz nods once. “It’s not real. The dream.”

You laugh bitterly. “I know that. I just hate the way I keep thinking about that place. It makes me feel weak.”

Kaz frowns. “You’re not weak. If you were, I never would have hired you.”

You can’t stop a faint grin from flitting across your face. “So romantic, Kaz.”

“Isn’t it?” He asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder and register genuine bewilderment on your face. To Kaz, you suppose, that is the height of romance after all. A true validation of your worth, a promise that you are enough.

It makes you smile. “You’re right,” you decide, “it is. It’s good to know my position is safe.”

“You’re safe,” Kaz repeats. He stands, walking over to the window. He doesn’t lean against you, but you can feel the exhale of his breath on your shoulder, the ghost of the touch you will never force him to give. “I will make sure of it.”

The two of you stare out the window at the rising sun. A new dawn is coming, bringing with it a new day, new surprises. Some of those surprises, as it turns out, will be far more shocking than you could have ever envisioned.

You’d like to say that you recovered from your nightmare pretty quickly after that, and you did collect your wits, but the jittery feeling stays with you well into the evening. You decide to stop by the Crow Club once dusk sets in, both as a favor to Kaz and for yourself. Once you do your usual perusal of tables, only having to point out one particularly gifted cheater to the guards, you allow yourself to drift over to the bar and order your favorite drink.

You see Jesper briefly in between rounds of Makker’s Wheel and talk idly for a few moments before he drifts off again. The Crow Club, albeit one of the fastest places in Kerch for money to leave your pockets, still feels like home to you. The rowdy hubbub, the dim lights, all of it is yours and has been for some time now. The Barrel is not safe, but this is Kaz’s place, and that means you never feel threatened so long as you’re within its walls.

Maybe that’s why you don’t register the new presence until it’s too late to run. The thought that the young man standing before you could ever be here at all is utterly bewildering. This is the Barrel, this is your mess of dingy canals and hopeless cases. What reason could Nikolai Lantsov possibly have to bring him down these parts?

You blink and he’s standing there staring at you like he’s seen a ghost. All the cockiness drains from his step as his jaw unapologetically drops. It is loud in here, but you swear the volume drops just long enough for you to hear him with perfect accuracy as Nikolai whispers:

“Y/N?”

He says it like a prayer delivered by a dying man, every syllable infused with impossible hope. You don’t respond, but something in your expression must confirm his question anyway. Either that or your face has changed so little in the five years since you saw him last that Nikolai can recognize you anyway, even in the smoke-filled haven of the Crow Club.

He draws forward by impulse, steps quickening the closer he gets to you. In all honesty, you have no idea what he is about to do, nor how you would respond, so you find yourself unquestionably grateful when Kaz emerges out of nowhere to stand in between you and Ravka’s younger prince.

Nikolai pulls up short to avoid running into him. “Who,” Kaz says, voice low but cold as a blade, “are you?”

Nikolai’s gaze darts past Kaz to lock squarely on you. You find yourself answering in his stead. “This is Nikolai.”

You can’t see Kaz’s expression from this angle, but you can imagine the way his eyes must narrow anyway. “Nikolai from Ravka?”

“The very one,” Nikolai replies, a touch of that same bravado in his tone you remembered so well.

Kaz scoffs. “Impossible. How’d you cross the Shadow Fold, then, prince?”

Nikolai gestures to himself, and only now once the initial shock of seeing him is starting to fade away do you realize how absurdly he’s dressed. “I left Ravka when I thought Y/N died. I go by a different name now. Sturmhond.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, a high sound bordering almost on fright. “You became a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrects, and judging by the quick answer you’re guessing it’s the same knee-jerk response he gives to everybody.

Kaz shifts slightly, allowing you to see the glare he’s not bothering to hide. “And what are you doing in my city, privateer?”

Nikolai swallows hard. “I heard a rumor about a Healer. A Healer whose hands glowed when she saved someone’s life. I had to know.”

Kaz looks like he wants to physically cut the source of this information out of Nikolai’s throat, but you beat him to it. “Why would you care now? You never tried to find me.”

Nikolai’s eyes flash. “I tried every day until I heard you were dead. I mourned for months.”

“Heard,” Kaz comments, “you never found a body?”

“Obviously not,” Nikolai says, glancing towards you again, “Why didn’t you come back to Ravka, Y/N? Why didn’t you try to find me? I missed you. I loved you. I still do.” He holds out a hand to you. “My ship leaves in one week’s time. Come home with me.”

You find yourself flinching back. Since your first days on the shores of Ketterdam, you’ve long since learned to disguise any sign of weakness, but Kaz knows you well enough to look for signs of trouble in even your slightest of expressions.

The small catch of your breath now tells him all he needs to know regarding Nikolai’s offer. Kaz’s hands curl around his cane, causing the black leather to crease like skin. “Y/N is safe here, Lantosov. She doesn’t need your war-torn country.”

Nikolai’s brow furrows. “Who are you to speak for her?”

“I’m the one who actually saved her instead of giving up,” Kaz says simply, “I’m the one who gave her a home.”

Nikolai’s eyes flit to you again, and you nod. “I loved you, Nikolai, it’s true, but I moved on when you did. Ketterdam is where I belong. My time in Ravka is over.”

You see Kaz straighten up imperceptibly by your side. From the way he’d spoken to Nikolai, you hadn’t thought he harbored a shred of uncertainty regarding where you would want to go, but it appears that his worst fears were assuaged by you asserting that you wanted to stay with him.

Nikolai swallows hard. “I won’t blame you for wanting to come home.” Only myself,  you can sense him mentally adding on. It is a shame that time has not robbed you of the ability to tell what he’s thinking.

“I already am home, Nikolai.” You tell him.

He nods and leaves without another word. You watch him go, and he does not look back. Nikolai has had quite a long time to mourn your absence. Tonight may have set him back a little bit, but you have no doubt that he will recover just as he did before.

“Thank you for staying,” Kaz murmurs when Nikolai disappears from the club.

“Thank you for fighting to keep me here,” you whisper back.

Kaz’s eyes are sharp when they meet yours. “I will always fight for you.”

That, you think, is the difference between him and Nikolai in the end. Nikolai will carry your memory with him wherever he goes, but Kaz would never allow someone to take you from him in the first place. He would go to war to keep you safe. In a way, you think he already has.

You have the perfect view of Fifth Harbor from Kaz’s office window. You wonder if he planned it that way, so he could see both who was entering his life and who was leaving it. The two of you stand and watch Nikolai’s ship leave for Ravka once more. You wondered if it would hurt to see a ticket back to your place of birth evaporate from between your fingers, but it doesn’t. It’s just like you told Nikolai, isn’t it? You are already home. There is no need to leave.

requested by @zaypay, i hope you enjoy!

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @story-scribbler, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000

[stromuprisahat]

“You can’t … you can’t choose him.”

Siege and Storm- Chapter 23

The worst rat of them all.

The manly man cannot keep his mouth shut even when his opinion's a shit build on nothing and he's in no position to negotiate with anyone.

Alina's supposed to be the leader, and she's the only person around with any knowledge about the Darkling, but Malyen just never knows his place. He needs to be the one in charge.

He's worse than a dog, pissing on a corner of a building.

ALINA WANTS WHAT ~I~ SAY SHE DOES!

Somebody make him shut up.

There's nothing more annoying than a man, who needs to make his opinion loudly known on every single topic, especially when it's utterly irrelevant.

The only thing he knows about Grisha is how to beat them up and humiliate them, if they're male, or where to stick it, if it's female, but somehow judging what the Darkling can or cannot do is in his repertoire.

YoU dOn'T kNoW AnYtHiNg AbOuT hEr. Says the insecure shitstain, who tells embarrassing stories about her to people, she needs to take her seriously. Who knows exactly what to say to make her crawl after him whenever she forgets her place.

Constantly aggressive.

This isn't just high-stake situations. Aggression is Malyen's default reaction whenever things don't go his way. *flings a book about Saints away*

Because I'm the manly man, calling the shots here. With no power or influence... but I am making decisions regarding this whole operation.

Considerate as ever.

You see why I don't believe his abuse will remain "merely" psychological?

And that's the point, isn't it?

He can ignore the person Alina's supposed to become, because he can always shame and emotionally blackmail her into his shadow, but her ACTUALLY MAKING A CHOICE for herself and truly choosing someone else...

Abuser's worst nightmare is being fully cut off from their victim, no longer able to influence them.

If you can pick only one of the options, it's no choice at all.

Darkles shows her how bad is the other option, where Malyen decides FOR her from the start.

:(

Ooooo...

Did he just realize Alina might NOT be his property after all?!

That the Darkling won't let him stick around to bully Alina back into obscurity?!

[bookishfeylin]

just saw your anti booktok post from june 11 2023 and yeah. the way white authors write self-insert fantasies clearly for only white people. The way white audiences will eat it up because it has them as the mcs. the way fae fantasy/fairytale retellings only really focuses on white women. The awkward silence of being a woc and not being able to imagine yourself in the fantasy protagonist's shoes because how can you, they're all white. why would you step into a world where you're made to choose between a golden-haired good white boy and an abusive white bad boy with black hair. they are not even appealing to you. the way alina starkov and mal oretsev being made poc for shadow and bone was met with so much anger and imo violence from white women, cause they could no longer self-insert onto the protagonist because their fantasy of her being a white mc had been shattered. the sobbing and screaming in comments of youtube sections asking why couldn't alina starkov be white even though white people already have everything. and she's not even fae. the entitlement that comes with white privilege and therefore booktok. i'm tired

Hi anon! I assume you are referring to this post and yes, yes I wholeheartedly agree. There’s another post on here about the politics of escapism, and I feel like that really applies to booktok. Who gets to escape in fantasy? Who gets to read about characters that look like them go on adventures and fight monsters and ride dragons and practice magic? Who is included in their world? And who isn’t? Who is relegated as always to a servant, a competing love interest, a jealous ex, a side character in someone else’s story? Who can turn they brain off and ignore all the racism in fantasy and sci-fi—and who can’t because we live with that stuff day in and day out in the real world and it jumps out at us when we see it in our entertainment too?

And it’s so painfully apparent because whenever the same shallow writing is used but with a person of color as a protagonist, or even when the writing is solid and intense but a person of color is the protagonist, white people struggle to relate to them or argue they “have no personality” and couldn’t connect with the character (and even with side characters of color as well). For example, I recently read Blood Scion by Deborah Falaye and it was brutal and intense and a wonderful look into the psychology of child soldiers and how they are broken and what they will do to survive all from a fantasy perspective. But a lot of the (white) reviewers on goodreads say they can’t relate to Sloane, the mc, or that she’s nothing more than a cardboard cut-out who is ~traumatized~, or that the plot makes no sense, etc. The book is objectively well written, but it only has a 3.5 star rating on goodreads and people are much more critical of every aspect of the book than they are of, say, Sarah J Maas’s books when almost of these criticisms are even more applicable in her case. The double standard—the increased scrutiny of and disconnect with and dislike of characters of color—jumps out in booktok in particular because of how low the standards are for white-led and focused books and how much higher they are for POC-led and focused books. And for those of us who want to see ourselves in fantasy, it’s hard.

[marvelmusing]

Like A Diamond

Part of the Glitter & Gold AU

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (featuring Zoyalai and GenyaxDavid)

Summary: Every one of Aleksander’s closest friends has at least one Morozov diamond. He gifts you one which then prompts an official initiation into Ravka’s most exclusive group of socialites.

Warnings [18+]: smut, oral (fem receiving), exhibitionism and voyeurism (Nikolai & Zoya play with the reader whilst their friends watch), soft dom!Nikolai & Zoya, consensual sharing of explicit videos and photos, praise kink, masturbation, nipple play, non-piercing nipple rings, hint of pain kink.

My Masterlist

Every one of Aleksander’s closest friends has at least one Morozov diamond.

His grandfather had not only been the founder of the company Aleksander now owns, but he had also been one of Ravka’s most influential explorers and inventors. He had located one of the country’s largest natural diamond deposits which had set the foundation for the Morozov brand.

Now, almost every celebrity worldwide wants one of Aleksander’s pieces. Very few people can afford to have such a luxurious item in their jewellery box, and he is very selective about who can be seen wearing his designs publicly. But, of course, if Aleksander values you he won’t be able to resist staking his claim on you through a gift of glistening diamonds.

Genya has a pair of earrings. Sparkling silver studs comprised of three teardrop-shaped diamonds stacked on top of one another to curve over the slope of her earlobe. She wears them on special occasions. Dinners and galas and parties, whenever she needs a reminder she’s appreciated. She and Aleksander have a close bond and his gifts are amongst her most valued possessions.

David has a simple pendant necklace with a small diamond at the centre. He wears it almost always since he likes the comforting weight of it and has a habit of loosening the chain from underneath his shirt to fidget with the expensive gem, twirling it with his fingers whenever he’s nervous. Genya thinks the habit is endearing, especially since the necklace was a wedding gift from Aleksander.

Nikolai has a ring. Thick metal, with a flattened centre that sits on his knuckle, where a Morozov diamond sits alongside his initials engraved there - NN. Nikolai Nazyalensky. He keeps it on his pinkie finger as a replacement for the Lantsov signet ring that he threw away when he became estranged from the rest of his family.

Zoya has a necklace which traces down her figure into a body chain. The thin shining strand of metal falls between her breasts, where a cluster of diamonds sit on her cleavage before splitting into two chains that hang around her waist meeting again at the small of her back. The piece is a pretty addition to Zoya’s tightest dresses and her favourite sets of lingerie.

Alina has more pieces of jewellery than she can keep track of. Glimmering rings, beautiful earrings, necklaces and chokers, glistening bracelets. One night, when the two of you are drunk and giggly, she starts whispering filthy words into your ear, telling you everyone’s deepest secrets. She takes your hand, sliding it into her panties so that you can feel where her Morozov diamond presses against her clit.

When you join the group, they all exchange knowing glances when Aleksander helps you into your coat after dinner or places his hand on your lower back as he steers you through the crowd towards the rest of the group at a gala. They all tease you good-naturedly, telling you that it’s only a matter of time before you get your own diamond.

Alina smiles widely when she sees her husband working on a particular design, sitting in his lap to offer him some company while he draws out something special.

Then one evening you and Aleksander are working late in your office, passing sketches between one another and comparing notes for your designs in preparation for your new collection.

“I have something for you,” he says quietly.

When you see him reaching for his coat pocket, pulling out a small velvet box embossed with a very familiar logo, your stomach flips.

“Aleksander, I hope you know you don’t ever have to give me anything.”

He nods.

“I know.” He opens up the box, nudging it towards you. “But I crafted this one myself.”

Aleksander doesn’t make many pieces by hand anymore, given that he has a company to run and a whole team of people to craft his designs for him instead.

“I thought long and hard about what piece you would like.”

As your eyes flicker down to the contents of the box, the breath catches in your throat. His thumb strokes the underside of your breast. Arousal stirs in your stomach, thrumming down between your thighs.

Slowly, you trace your fingertips over the edge of the box, the velvet smooth against your skin. There’s two small silver pieces, decorated with tiny diamonds cut perfectly to line the outside of the thin curves of metal. The shape of the rings themselves loop in elegant circles, so that they look like daisies.

“Are these…?”

Aleksander continues to stroke your breast, his fingers seeking your clothed nipple, hidden by the fabric of your shirt. Once he finds it, he rolls it slowly between his finger and thumb, pinching lightly.

“I wasn’t sure if you had them pierced or not,” he muses quietly, continuing his gentle touches. “Regardless, I thought it best to give you something easy to wear.”

The thought of having those rings, that Aleksander created himself for you, pinching lightly at your nipples all day has your eyes fluttering closed with need. He takes your silence for hesitation.

“I can turn one of them into a charm for a necklace if you would prefer.”

You shake your head immediately.

“No. They’re beautiful.”

He gestures lightly towards the loose collar of your shirt which reveals your cleavage.

“May I?”

You nod.

He loosens your shirt from the waistband of your trousers, unbuttoning the piece of clothing slowly and pushing the fabric aside to reveal your bare chest. He hums quietly in approval, his voice a low murmur that sends a thrill down your spine as he stares at your nipples.

“Look at that, milaya, all perked up and pretty for me already.”

A burning flush rushes over your skin, warming your cheeks before it spreads down your neck as you glance down at your breasts.

He takes one of the rings from the box, cupping your breast with his other hand. Even though your nipple is already hardened in anticipation, he rolls it between his fingers gently, encouraging it to stiffen further.

“Good girl.”

It’s difficult to not whimper aloud at his praise. He slots the ring onto your nipple, cool metal encircling the bud. There’s a firm pinch at first and you squirm at the sensation, though it softens rather quickly into something more pleasurable - a soft pressure that has you shifting your thighs to seek some friction.

“A perfect fit,” he observes, the corner of his mouth twitching.

He pinches your other nipple hard and there’s no stopping the whimper from escaping your lips this time. A wide smile spreads over his face as he slots the next ring onto your nipple, watching your chest heave as the metal clings to your hardened nub.

The sight of your breasts, areolae adorned with pretty circles of silver in a floral shape, pinched nipples in the place of the flower head, sends a heavy flood of arousal to your cunt. Certain that your panties are soaked, you bite down on your lower lip, gripping to the sides of your seat.

Aleksander’s eyes are darkened as he stares at your breasts, a glimmer of pride in the depths of his gaze. He hooks a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes up to meet his directly.

“How do they feel? Not too tight?”

“Good,” you say with a sigh. “They’re so good. I love them.”

He hums in acknowledgement, stroking his knuckles along your jawline.

“Ensure you take them out before going to bed.”

You nod.

He cups your breast, thumb brushing over your pinched nipple. Shifting your thighs once again, your eyes flutter closed as he stands. A whine claws at your throat, grip tightening on your seat as he shrugs on his coat.

“Aleksander,” you say quietly, your voice an almost pathetic whimper.

The temptation to grab his hand and press it against your clothed cunt is almost too much to bear. Embarrassment prickles over your cheeks at the thought of grinding weakly against his hand, begging for him to touch you. He cups your face with both of his hands, bringing you close for him to press his lips tenderly against your forehead.

“Send me a message when you arrive home safely.” The nod you give him in response is jerky. “And send Alina a video of whatever you do to satisfy yourself tonight.”

You do as he says.

As soon as you get home, your fingers fumble over the screen of your phone, typing out a message for Aleksander as you tuck your shoes away. He responds within a minute, praising you for following his instruction and reminding you of what else he had asked of you. That is all the incentive you need.

Bag and coat left abandoned in the hallway, you move up the stairs into your bedroom and collapse onto the rug between your bed and wardrobe. Once you’ve managed to prop your phone up against your wardrobe door, you begin removing more of your clothing.

Fingers shaking with anticipation, you slide down the zipper of your trousers, allowing the smooth fabric to drop down your legs. After Aleksander had left your office, you had only managed to button up a small portion of your shirt, hands still shaky with adrenaline.

Without too much preparation, you press on the record button and allow the camera of your phone to capture your need-fuelled actions.

The mess in your panties would be embarrassing if you weren’t so aroused by the sight of your slick clinging to the delicate lace, knowing that if Aleksander had slipped his hand beneath your waistband the same mess would have coated his fingers. His long nimble fingers.

It can’t be a very alluring video. But you’re too overcome by need to do anything but arch your back into the side of your bed, fingers reaching up to grasp at your covers as your other hand rubs frantically at your dripping cunt.

Any technique that you’ve gained from learning what your body likes has been abandoned as you mindlessly press your fingertips hard against your clit in eager circles. Gasps and cries of their names escape from your lips even when you grit your teeth as you writhe on your bedroom floor.

The nipple rings Aleksander had created for you glisten in the low light of your lamp as they remain firmly attached to the hardened nub of your nipples. The metal is no longer cool, warmed by the heat of your body, but the subtle pressure of the jewellery against your skin, a gentle tug on your sensitive nipples, has your arousal skyrocketing.

Thoughts of both Aleksander and Alina fill your mind, imagining her fingers rubbing sloppy circles over your clit while he holds your waist still to prevent you from squirming.

Their breathing heavy against your neck as they press kisses there, unable to pull themselves away from you to breathe properly. Alina mouthing over your throat and collarbone, delicate lips pressing firmly as she sucks blooming marks there. The scrape of Aleksander’s facial hair against your cheek, his teeth dragging over your jawline and nipping at your earlobe. Hot mouths. Eager tongues. Sweat rolling down between your breasts. Cunt tightening, a steady beat of pleasure, climbing higher with every drag of friction against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The climax that hits you has stars sparkling behind your closed eyelids, pleasure thrumming beneath your skin. As you slump your head back against your bed, pressing your face into the curve of your arm, a greedy urge tugs at your hand, as your body perks up again at the prospect of another orgasm.

Squeezing your eyes shut tighter, your sighs and moans become whinier, higher in pitch as your fingers chase your next climax. Curses, pleas, whimpers of their names, they all tumble from your lips, merging together into an almost incoherent mess. You end up hiding your face into the crook of your elbow, biting down on the flesh there to quieten your desperate noises.

Unbelievably quickly, you feel your body stumbling towards the edge of your pleasure, teetering on the precipice of another dizzying climax. The moan that shudders through your body is obscene, your breathy gasps borderline pornographic as you whimper their names one final time as your cunt clenches frantically around nothing.

With shaking hands, you stop the recording and send the footage without any hesitation. There’s no reply from Alina, though you aren’t too conscious of it as you clean yourself up in the bathroom and slip under your bedcovers.

Head still fuzzy with pleasure, you’re dozing lightly when there’s a soft ping that rouses you from the haze in your mind. Blinking sleepily, you reach for your phone, unlocking it and clicking on Alina’s message.

“For fuck’s sake,” you whine, dropping your face down into your pillow.

Taking the image itself into account, it’s more likely that Aleksander had sent the photo, and the response to your video has need blooming in your abdomen once again. What a vicious cycle. Very briefly, you contemplate slipping a hand down to touch yourself again.

The photo is taken from Aleksander’s point of view, as he sinks his cock into Alina’s cunt. A thick ring of arousal is coating his length, smearing messily over both of their thighs. From the soaked state of Alina, he must have been teasing her while you were recording your video for them. Unable to fashion any sort of response, you simply stare at the image until another one arrives.

This one is also taken by Aleksander, though he’s holding the phone to one side so that the majority of their bodies can be seen. Alina’s arms are stretched up to the headboard, while his other hand is curled around her throat as he thrusts into her. Her back is arched against the mattress.

Eyes fluttering closed you imagine their bodies crashing together, the gasps and moans, the slapping of skin against skin. Inhaling deeply, you wish you could hear them yourself, smell the scent of sex fill their room, and taste the sweat on their skin. It’s hard not to touch yourself again, forcing your body into overstimulation just to know that you might climax at the same time as them. But you manage to resist, though your hips grind gently against your mattress.

The last photo is taken by Alina. It’s a mirror picture taken in what you can only assume is their bathroom. She’s completely naked, cheeks and chest flushed a pretty shade of pink, with marks dotted over her neck. Butterflies swoop in your stomach at her beaming smile, filling your chest with a giddy feeling. By the time you’ve finished admiring her, there’s a text underneath the image.

Alina: Don’t forget to pee!! And Sasha said drink some water before you go to bed

You: I’m surprised you can type out full sentences after all that

Alina: I’ll tell him you said that ;)

Alina: And yea I’m concentrating very hard rn

A soft laugh falls from your lips.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Let’s see it then,” Nikolai remarks, taking a sip of his drink before he sets in down on the glass coffee table in front of him.

A frown creases at your brows as you watch him lean back into the couch, draping his arm over the back of the furniture piece.

“See what?”

“Whatever Aleksander has made for you.”

Genya smiles widely in anticipation, settling down beside Nikolai before she tucks her leg up to her chest. Her eyes scan over your body intently and you blush. Nerves flip in your stomach at the weight of so many eyes falling on you.

Aleksander and Alina watch you from the other side of the room, where they sit in an armchair together with Alina draped over his lap. Their dark eyes make arousal pool in your panties and a flustered blush burns over your skin as they both smirk.

Swallowing hard, you shift your weight slightly on your feet.

“Go sit with Zoya and show her first,” Aleksander instructs you.

There’s a knowing glimmer in her eyes as you sit down on the couch next to Zoya, opposite Nikolai and Genya. David tilts his head curiously from where he’s sitting in the armchair, leaning to rest his elbow on the arm of the couch next to Genya.

Taking the hem of your shirt you tug it upwards over your head, revealing your bra to everyone in the room. Nikolai grins and Zoya’s gaze roams hungrily over your skin. She reaches out, hooking her finger under the strap of your bra to snap it playfully against your skin.

The sting of pain sends a pleasurable thrum down to your nipples, reminding you of what they’re about to see. Sending a glance over to Aleksander, his eyes darkening as they meet yours, you breathe in shakily and unclasp your bra. The fabric falls from your breasts, revealing Aleksander’s creation to the group.

There’s a collective sound of inhaled breaths and low murmurs of praise, which has you squeezing your thighs together.

“Good girl,” Zoya says with a smirk, cupping your breast to admire the jewellery.

Nikolai leans forward, resting his elbows onto his knees, cocking his head aside as his lips quirk into a boyish grin that makes you blush.

Alina peers over eagerly, as if she doesn’t have an ample number of photos of your breasts saved on her phone. Almost every day, you’ve ended up sending her a picture of some aspect of your body at her request. The thought of her using those photos to touch herself to makes your panties wet.

“Come here, love,” Nikolai says, beckoning you to him. As soon as you stand, Zoya grasps at the waistband of your jeans, bringing them - alongside your panties - down with a few determined tugs.

Nikolai sets you down on the glass coffee table, facing Zoya, goosebumps rising on your bare body from the chill of the glass and the heat burning beneath your skin.

“Let everyone see how pretty you are,” he murmurs low in your ear.

Zoya smirks widely, continuing to play with your breasts. Her fingertips dance over your skin, brushing delicately against your hardened nipples.

“And what a lovely job Aleksander did.” Her voice is an admiring purr that makes your blush deepen. “I think this one of your best, Sasha.”

He inclines his head slowly in appreciation, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. David asks him a question about the metal used and conversation begins to flow as easily as it always does. Everyone is so dynamic and interesting, they understand one another so instinctively. How can a group of people merely talking to one another make you this aroused?

Aleksander’s voice is your favourite to listen to. Smooth and decisive, every word is pronounced intentionally with confidence in every syllable. Alina is the most expressive with her voice, amusement and interest colouring whatever she’s saying. Genya’s is a soft balm, soothing yet there’s something hidden in her words. Whilst David might not be as articulate as Aleksander, or charismatic like Nikolai, everything he says is insightful. There’s no hope of you understanding what he’s saying, but his enthusiasm has you wanting to listen for hours.

Zoya’s nails scape over your thighs, dragging your awareness back out of the haze that has clouded your mind. A breathy whine heaves at your chest, your eyes snapping up to meet hers. Deep chocolate brown, allure swirling in the dark depth of her gaze as she smiles at you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, prickling in anticipation as Nikolai shifts his body to the edge of his seat, leaning over so that his chest is mere inches from your bare back. His arm curls around your waist, not touching you until his fingers brush lightly over your navel.

A whimper catches in your throat, as Zoya presses her nails harder into the soft plush of your thighs. Her smile twists into a devious smirk. Her nails are always perfect, a decent length, painted whatever shade will match her colour palette for the week ahead. This evening, blood red nails bite into your skin and you squirm over the table.

Nikolai clicks his tongue in warning. His fingers drag up your stomach, tracing a feather-light path between your breasts. When his hand encircles your throat, the pressure is a wonderfully familiar sensation that has you sighing as he squeezes once in reassurance - an encouragement for you to submit to them both.

Their touches are knowing, well learnt through hours spent in one another’s beds. Luckily for you, the length of Zoya’s nails means she prefers to use her mouth to pleasure you and Nikolai. Excitement prickles over your skin as she parts your thighs. The need thrumming through your body ensures you’re unable to focus on anything except Zoya’s lips lowering to kiss over your thighs.

Conversation continues, though you’re unable to decipher anything being said. Occasionally, Nikolai will chuckle, the motion of his chest jostling you slightly. Zoya’s mouth moves over your skin, licking the scratch marks left by her hands and the sting of pain makes you whimper.

At some point, David must have moved over to the couch, sitting beside Genya to press lazy kisses over her throat and slide his hands over her waist and thighs. Her sighs are soft as she threads her hands gently through his hair, encouraging him to continue whilst they watch you, Nikolai, and Zoya.

The amount of arousal leaking from your cunt, smearing over the table beneath you, makes your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. Nikolai’s murmurings aren’t helping to curb those feelings either. His words are phrased like praises, but the teasing edge in his voice makes your clit throb with need.

“Messy little girl, dripping all over our table. Do you know how much that cost?” When you shake your head weakly he laughs. “Of course you don’t. Numbers are difficult, aren’t they? I don’t think you could count to ten in this state.”

He’s right. Thoughts themselves are difficult and your mind is fully grounded in sensation. His wife bites a mark into your inner thigh, her nose nudging gently against your mound as she leans closer. Every kiss and touch she’s given you has been pointedly away from where you need her most and your patience is wearing thin.

“Zoya, please.”

The sound of your voice breaking through the conversation has everyone’s attention returning fully to you. Zoya looks up at you sharply, something dangerous glimmering in her eyes and you whimper at the feeling of being unintentionally disobedient.

“I’m sorry, please,” you beg, turning your face to hide against the space between Nikolai’s collarbones. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Nikolai runs a hand soothingly down your side.

“Tell us what you want, lovely. Ask politely, like a good girl, for everyone to hear.”

Chest heaving with anticipation, you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt at suppressing some of the embarrassment burning over your face as you say,

“Zoya. Will you please kiss my cunt?”

“Just a kiss?” she teases.

Shaking your head, you whimper in protest.

“Don’t be mean Zoya,” Nikolai remarks, though his tone is light and he smiles over at her whilst stroking your cheek gently. “She’s being good.”

She hums quietly, tilting her head as she appears to give his words some thought. Then she nods to one side.

“Look at Aleksander.”

There’s a knowing glimmer in her eyes as you hold her gaze and her smirk widens. Zoya and Nikolai share a look, smiling at one another. They know you well enough to see how much you like Aleksander and Alina.

Swallowing hard, you turn your head and the breath leaves your lungs in a sudden rush as Aleksander’s pitch black eyes meet yours. You can almost see yourself reflected in them, a messy wanton being writhing in front of him.

His tongue traces over his lower lip before he smirks, his gaze lowering to admire your breasts, still adorned with his jewellery, and your messy cunt. Zoya presses her lips against one of your nipples, a delicate kiss to the pinched nub. Then the other.

Then, finally, she ducks her head down between your thighs, mouthing over your soaked cunt. She laps eagerly with her tongue, and the sensation has you throwing your head back against Nikolai’s shoulder. His arms curl around your body to keep you upright.

The desperate cry that escapes your lips attracts Zoya’s attention and her lips press together in disapproval when she sees your gaze has left Aleksander, shifting back to her.

“Keep looking, or I’ll stop,” Zoya says sternly.

A small pout puckers at your lower lip, but you do as she says. Aleksander’s gaze is too intense, and you move your eyes over to watch his hands wandering over Alina’s thighs. He squeezes the clothed flesh smoothly, ignoring how she shifts her weight over his lap, grinding slowly. Her eyes, half-lidded, meet yours and a thrill runs down your spine.

When Zoya’s mouth returns to your cunt, your hands reach for her hair to urge her closer, wanting to chase the prickle of pleasure that is buzzing in the back of your head. Before you can touch her, Nikolai is curling his hands around your wrists, guiding your arms backwards so that your palms are settled on each of his thighs.

“Hold onto me, love,” he suggests.

Despite having very little control of your body and its reactions, you grip onto the fabric of his trousers, nails digging into the muscle beneath. He smiles widely, nose nudging against your cheek as you gasp and whimper.

Aleksander is murmuring something into Alina’s ear, his hand curling around her throat to keep her attention on you. Bliss is running through your veins, heating your entire body as Zoya begins to suckle on your clit, swirling her tongue over the sensitive little bud. Alina bites down on her lower lip.

“Nik, please,” you whisper weakly.

He hushes you, pressing a kiss to your temple as you continue watching Aleksander and Alina, they bodies melding into fuzzy shapes as your gaze becomes unfocused. The drag of Zoya’s tongue and the movement of her lips against your sensitive cunt has you nearing a climax with an almost frightening intensity.

“That’s it, love. Come on, show everyone how pretty you look when you come undone.”

He whispers more praises into your ear before grasping your chin lightly to hold your head up and meet Aleksander’s eyes once again.

“Sasha, tell her what a good girl she is.”

You won’t survive this. The climax that is building inside you is too much. Aleksander’s words are smooth as he encourages you in a doting voice that has your mind sinking through honey.

“You’re a very good girl, milaya, and you’re going to cum for us, aren’t you?”

Obediently, you nod in agreement.

“Yes, yes Aleksander, please, oh fuck.”

Overcome by pleasure, you grasp tightly onto Nikolai’s wrist, writhing between him and his wife as your climax throws you off a cliff, plummeting into the wild waves of bliss. The muscles in your legs shake, your hips jerking against Zoya’s face as your climax shudders through your body.

Weakly, you slump back against Nikolai, whining quietly when Zoya continues to lick your twitching cunt. When your breathing hitches and you try to move away, she stops and you feel boneless now that the sensation has been removed. Bliss has made your limbs heavy and your body is still reeling.

For a long moment, you keep your eyes shut, admiring the colours that swim over your closed eyelids. The need that had been clouding your thoughts has now dissolved completely, leaving your mind a puddle.

While your eyes remain closed, you’re aware of someone lying you down, some gentle touches and murmurs, as well as a warm cloth being dragged between your thighs. It’s much easier to keep your eyes closed, settling your heart and breathing into something more comfortable. Slowly, your eyes begin to flutter open again.

“There’s our girl,” Nikolai coos with a bright smile. “Welcome back, love.”

His hands smooth gently over your thighs and you hum at the soothing sensation of someone tracing their fingers over your forehead. Blinking up at the person, you realise your head has been placed in Genya’s lap.

“Hello, down there,” she says softly, tapping you on the nose with her fingertip. A bashful expression fills your features as you whisper a quiet response.

“Hi.”

David reaches over towards the coffee table, picking up a large crystal pitcher filled with water that hadn’t been there earlier. He pours a small glassful while Genya helps you into a somewhat upright position.

They seem to know your hands would be unable to hold the glass, still shaking from the remaining adrenaline in your body. David holds the water up to your lips and you drink eagerly. His firm hand at the back of your neck makes you shiver pleasantly.

Once you’ve finished, Zoya places a soft blanket over your body and you nestle your face against Genya’s chest. She presses a kiss to the crown of your head, whilst David traces his knuckles down the length of your spine. His touch is warm even through the fabric of the blanket. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into a heavy slumber.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A chill brushing over your skin is what wakes you and a shiver shakes your body, nuzzling deeper into the warmth surrounding you on both sides. It’s then that you realise you’re now in a bed, in one of Zoya and Nikolai’s guest rooms. With Aleksander on one side, Alina on the other.

Her head is tucked close to you, she appears to have slid off the pillow in her sleep, now nestled in the space under your chin, her forehead brushing against your breasts occasionally as you breathe. One of her hands is placed on your thigh, trapped between them as you lie on your side.

Aleksander’s arm is draped over your body, his hand resting on the limited mattress space between you and Alina. He seems to be a light sleeper, shifting his position as if he’s sensed your state of awareness.

His voice is rough with sleep as he murmurs quietly,

“Everything alright, milaya?”

You nod. You’re wearing an unfamiliar shirt which you can only assume belongs to Aleksander. After such an intense orgasm, involving so many intimate moments, you’re glad you’re not waking up in a cold and empty bed.

“You stayed with me?”

“Of course.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear. “We didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine his fingers with your own, giving him an appreciative squeeze as you whisper,

“Thank you.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi @morrigan-crowmwell

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Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @veescorneroftheworld

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[unactive-shroom]

hello! i hope you're doing well. for your Valentine's event, may I request nikolai lantsov with prompt #4? have a great day!

Prompt #4: Proposal ♡

“It seems like someone has a very important question to ask… and what better time to do it but on Valentine’s night?”

Character: Nikolai Lantsov. See Valentine's Event: HERE

You stood at the edge of the lake, watching the purple glow of dusk slowly swallowing the last of the early February sunshine. It had been thirteen months since Alina Starkov had left the Little Palace, and despite her offering for you to join her and Mal, you had remained by Nikolai’s side in Os Alta. Recently you’ve found yourself taking the long winding path through the trees to the Little Palace, reminiscing about the days you would spend together at the lake, chatting and feasting on blini or pelmeni stolen from the kitchen. A hand snuck around your waist. “I thought I’d find you here.” You smiled and sunk into Nikolai’s warm embrace, not realising the cold that had crept up on you. “I get that the Grand Palace is ugly on the outside and all that, but really, y/n, you’ll catch a chill if you keep coming down here without warm clothes” he said as he fussed over you, pulling a heavy velvet cloak around you. Once satisfied that you were warm, he turned his attention to the lake. The silence stretched between you two until Nikolai softly said ”You know we can visit them, right? Keramzin isn’t too far away. We could stay a few nights, bring some gifts, maybe. Or maybe they could come visit us, either.” You chuckled at that part. “I think Alina’s had enough of the palaces by now. Besides, isn’t it too risky for them to come here? They are supposedly dead, you know. And I think that people might start to get suspicious if the King of Ravka and his entourage start to regularly visit an orphange.” he hummed in agreement, tilting his head. “It’s okay, Nikolai. We did just see them, what, two months ago? I’m just being nostalgic, that’s all. Let’s head back to the Palace, It’s cold.” He took your arm in his, a look of feigned pain on his face. “Funny how you always seem to want to go back whenever I join you. Unrequited love is a terrible, terrible thing. Am’st I doomed to be alone forever-?” You let go of his arm and strode ahead of him, in no mood to put up with his antics. “Y/n, wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let’s go warm up, please?”

A few hours later, whilst Nikolai was in some meeting, you found yourself in the concert hall. Empty, as always, but with a beautiful, sleek, black grand piano in the centre of the stage. Your footsteps echo, magnifying your pathway to the stage, announcing your presence as you pull out the piano stool, and as you played, you thought about how you had gotten here. Going from a high ranking army officer, experienced in intense and gruesome warfare, fighting alongside friends and seeing horrors unlike any other, to sitting here now, in a sleek and comfortable kefta, playing piano, and living in a palace. Of course, you were still a very active member of the army, and while politics held a greater position in your life than it had previously, you still had many army duties, one including tuition at the little palace. But recently, no doubt accredited to Nikolai, you had a lot of free time. “Mandatory resting periods for those involved in the war”, as he called it. And, not to mention, the whole country’s eye on you and Nikolai after a stablehand had leaked information about yours and Nikolai’s relationship. At this point, you were simply waiting for the day where acquiring a Ravkan Queen, a wife for Nikolai, was simply unavoidable, and the relationship was cut off. It made you sick to the depths of your very being, but you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. It’s something that had always hung over the two of you, and at the beginning of your courtship you had discussed it in great detail, and you were adamant on the fact that when the time came for Nikolai to choose a wife, they would simply forget their relationship and move on with their lives. But it was getting increasingly difficult for both of you. You’d noticed that Nikolai had been closer to you recently, constantly there whenever you both had free time, or, pestering you at work, egging you on to leave work to go read with him in the library or take a walk around the palace grounds. And you had felt closer to him too, saving snippets of poetry for him in books you read, playing melodies for him on piano. These small, intimate moments meant everything to you, especially knowing that Nikolai had very little time left to spend with you before he was married off to some stranger.

Leaving the concert hall and heading back to your chambers, you heard voices in the hallway ahead of you - Nikolai and Zoya. “I just- I don’t know how to tell her, Zoya. How can I ask her-?” he sighed audibly, running a hand through his hair. He turned, and locked eyes on you. “Oh- Y/n!” The marble floor seemed to grow colder through your shoes as Zoya looked at him meaningfully. “I think you and Nikolai ought to take a quick walk around the Palace, Y/n. I’ll see you in the morning, your Majesty. Good night.”. As Zoya’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, you felt your heart fall to your stomach. This was it. Nikolai was going to tell you he had found a suitable bride and that it was no longer possible for this relationship to continue. You swallowed, and smiled at Nikolai, not wanting to draw this out any longer. “Shall we?”

You and Nikolai walked side by side through the moonlit gardens in utter silence, until finally, stopping at the glaringly white marble statue of some old king, you stopped. “Nikolai, I know what’s happening.” You whispered, turning your head away from him. “You do? Y/n, I-” You shook your head. “Don’t. I undertsand, Nikolai. You need to do what’s best for your country, I’ve always loved that about you. Just…before we part ways, I need to ask you for one last thing - and then I’ll be gone by morning, your majesty.” You turned to face him, a single tear betraying your determination to not cry, only to find Nikolai on one knee, a look of utter bewilderness on his face. You mirrored the look, not knowing what he was doing. “…why are you on the ground? Nikolai, you’ll ruin your clothes, and it’s far too cold to be-” You sniffled. “Y/n. Please let me talk. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, but you can’t leave now - and what’s this about us parting ways? I think you really misunderstood what I’m asking you.” Nikolai cleared his throat, suddenly looking nervous. “I… I know that our relationship hasn’t been under the best circumstances - first as Sturmhond, when I quite litterally held you captive on a boat for the state enemy and yet you fell for me, Saints knows how, and then when I proposed marriage to Alina… and now, having to keep our relationship secret…” He took a deep breath. “I know it’s been impossibly unfair on you. But please, y/n. Allow me this selfish idea - at least consider it - because I mean it when I say that you are my everything. You thrive in politics, the people love you, you have given incredible service to Ravka, you’ve fought wars - been through hell and back for this country, your beauty is unmatched even by the primal, eldest saints of the land - the sun and moon themselves are outshone by your radiance. When I imagine the ideal Queen for this country, the only person I can see fitting the role is you. Y/n L/n, would you allow me the honour of being your husband? Will you marry me?” In a complete and utter state of shock, you took a step back, incrediously shaking your head. “Me? But- but Grisha can’t- I have no title, no links to nobility - I’m an orphan from Keramzin! What will you get from marrying me?” Nikolai remained on one knee, looking directly at you. “What would I get from marrying the love of my life? Saints, y/n, I would get happiness. I would be able to go to sleep in the arms of the person I love, be able to count on her unwavering support that she’s shown me since day one, be able to wake up every morning and know that whatever happens today, I have the most incredible person by my side. I would be able to feel safety in my role as King, with an incredibly capable Queen by my side, beloved of the people and the crown itself, and know that I will not have to spend my life yearning for the woman I sent away so that I could marry for political values, as she would be in her rightful place by my side. I would do anything for you, y/n. But I just can’t bear the thought of you leaving me.”

At this point, your vision was blurry with tears, but you felt Nikolai take your hand. “Well, my love? What do you say?” You felt the tension in his gentle hold of your hand. “If you’re sure about this… then yes. I do. I will gladly marry you, Nikolai.” He beamed at you, standing up and wrapping you in his familiar, warm embrace. As he wiped the tears from your eyes, you giggled. “So does this mean that I get to call you Nikolai even when referring to you?” “You could always do that, my love.” “Yeah, but, if I did, I’d get funny looks. Oooh, can I give you nicknames now, too? How about Niko? LaiLai? Kolai? E-Kolai?” You gasped suddenly, startling Nikolai. “Oh, I have to tell Alina and Mal!” He smiled, then hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, We’ll have to make a public address too. Then decide on the length of the engagement, do a tour, loads of boring court stuff - but it shouldn’t be too bad with you by my side. Now come along, it really is quite cold. How about we have a glass of brandy’s to celebrate? The one the Kerch ambassador sent awhile ago has been calling my name, but I simply hadn’t a good enough reason to break it out…”

A.n: Y’all the amount of Nikolai Requests I have in my inbox is INSANE. ALSO WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS I MIXED UP MAL AND MATHIAS?? so glad that I realised cause wtf. also I had to break up the last paragraph bc apparently tumblr has a limit of words u can have in one text block?? anyways. thanks for requesting, I hope you enjoyed &lt;3

[is-today-tomorrow-in-nz]

Fun Facts about the Grishaverse - Antis version

Did you know that the Darkling's true form is a smoke-worm? Yes, whenever the situations are not in favour of the Darkling. He sends out his almost invisible smoke-worms which then crawls into people's ears and reach their brains. The Darkling then plants his thoughts into the person and operate them like puppets.

Did you know you can play a variation of 'Six degrees of Kevin Bacon' with the Darkling too? Don't believe me? Pick any random Ravkan problem. Let me show you an example - 'The coffers are running dry in Ravka'. Easy - Tatiana loved the Darkling's fashion sense so much that she kept making gown after gown to capture his magic. She wanted to out-dazzle the Darkling. So she kept throwing parties to show off her newly crafted gowns but she always came second to the him. Fed up with failure, she kept trying till the coffers ran dry. She wanted to outdo the Darkling atleast once! See, got it in first degree itself.

Did you know the Darkling was secretly responsible for Vasily's horse addiction? - When Vasily was a child, he saw the Darkling pet a random horse once and Vasily was never the same again.

Did you know the Darkling can teleport? - Yes, it is a very lesser known fact, hidden between the lines of the Trilogy. In Shadow and Bone we can see the Darkling not being in the Little Palace but he was still able to manipulate Alina, Zoya, Genya and every woman in Ravka. It was all through his teleportation ability. Mind-blown right!

Did you know the illegal dog fighting ring in Ketterdam was linked to the Darkling? - The Darkling had kept his involvement hidden but Nina was able to unearth the truth by his slight oversight- a dog in the fighting ring was named 'Shadow'. There! you saw the connection right? So subtle that you almost missed it.

Did you how the animosity between the Darkling and Nikolai first started? - When Nikolai was a boy, the Darkling was working near the Fjerdan borders. But one night, Nikolai had a nightmare and dreamt of a shadowy presence under his bed, making him wake up in sweat and tears. That day he decided that the Darkling was not a friend of his and they split ways. They never met again till the day of the Spinning Wheel attack. (I have always wondered how their relationship would have turned out if Nikolai had not had that dream. *long, pondering sigh*)

Did you know that the Darkling was directly responsible for Pyotr/Aleksander III's incompetence? The Darkling sent one of his smoke-worms to make the head chef undercook the King's chicken. This caused Pyotr to have a salmonella infection which rotted his brain and turned him to be so incompetent ruler. It was one of the Darkling's earlier attempts at the throne.

Did you know that the Darkling was a time-traveler who loved wars? Yes! This is once again a lesser known fact. Ravka, Fjerda and Shu-Han were once peace-loving countries whose rulers were besties. They loved Grisha like crazy. They gave Grisha high positions in their courts and revered them. However, in the original timeline, this did not help the Darkling to become the most powerful man. He wanted to play the saviour so badly that he went back in time, destroyed the friendships, created the Grisha-otkazat'sya rift just so that he could become the most feared man in history! This was such a shocking discovery and I found in my 278th read. LB is such a genius!

These are some of the interesting facts I discovered. Share me yours!!!

[lassieposting]

S&B Characters + Sleep Headcanons

Aleksander Kirigan doesn't get a lot of sleep. He claims it's because he's an incredibly busy man, and that's often true - long hours are basically part of his job description - but in truth it's just as likely to be any of a dozen other things keeping him from his bed; nightmares, occasional merzost headaches, intrusive thoughts, the ghosts of fuck-ups past, the relentless stress and worry of trying to keep Ravka's borders secure with dwindling funds and forces. Over the centuries he's learned to bury himself in his work to avoid his demons, and he's become one of those people who's perfectly functional on four hours of sleep, considers six a lie-in, and will sporadically go days at a time without sleeping when he's not doing well.

For most of his life, he's been immensely wary of falling asleep beside a lover - there are few worse ways to discover your bed partner was just out to kill you for bone jewelry than waking up mid-assassination attempt. If he's keen enough on them to not have them leave after a casual encounter - say, Zoya - he'll usually stay with them until they fall asleep, and then get up and go quietly do some work or read until morning. He's willing to adapt, though, for the right person - Nikolai and Alina can both settle him enough to stay with them all night. The trick, as it turns out, is playing on his touch starvation; on the rare occasion he finds someone he can actually trust, he likes to be held, and affectionate little gestures like playing with his hair or scritching his stubble or massaging his shoulders will melt him and flick his OFF button real fast. He's surprisingly cuddly, though he'll swear blind that he just gets cold easily and Alina and Nikolai both run hot.

Nikolai Lantsov is very tactile and affectionate in general, so when he's sharing someone's bed, he likes to cuddle. Like most soldiers - and kings who have survived more assassins than anyone should ever have to - he's a light sleeper, but he also drops off easily, the legacy of learning to get his head down wherever and whenever he can in an active warzone. He likes to sprawl out over or wrap himself around his lovers, and he does a lot of idly playing with hair or repetitive stroking up and down random stretches of skin, almost like he's self-soothing by comforting someone else.

He's been known to react to things happening around him while still asleep - pulling Alina in against his chest if he feels her shiver, or rolling over to throw an arm over Aleksander and mumble easy, Sasha if he's having a bad dream. He has nightmares of his own - he spent his military service on the front lines, not safe in an officer's tent like Vasily - and he tends to burrow into the closest warm body for comfort, burying his face in Alina's chest or Sasha's shoulder to ground himself. Aleksander will almost always wake up for this and react, reassuring and resettling Niko. Alina, not so much.

Alina Starkov sleeps like the dead. Once she is out, she is Out, and she'll sleep through pretty much anything short of a bomb being dropped on the palace. For quite a while this actually frightens her - she worries she won't wake up in time if she's attacked - but Niko is a light sleeper and Aleksander startles awake if a butterfly sneezes in Novyi Zem, so once they're all sharing a bed she's perfectly safe to conk out like a light. She's always had very vivid dreams, but she doesn't remember them for long after she wakes, so she keeps a sketchpad by the bed so she can draw any ideas or lingering impressions she wants to hang onto after she wakes - a concept for a machine Nikolai might want to build, a kefta design Aleksander would look devastatingly good in, old memories from the war she needs to exorcise, random nonsense that makes no sense outside of the context of her dream. She's usually the last to wake - Aleksander and Nikolai are both military and ridiculously busy besides, so they're often up with the Saints-forsaken sun, but Alina loves a lie-in, and would much rather stay up late than wake early.

Mal Oretsev is used to taking turns on watch with other soldiers, so he tends to sleep in short bursts of a few hours at a time. This poses a challenge once he takes over the Volkvolny - he has a lot of extra time to sleep now that he didn't have before. He spends a lot of it painstakingly working his way through the collection of books in Sturmhond's - his - stateroom. If he's to play the role, he should probably have the knowledge, and he'd rather be able to pull his weight without getting in the crew's way. He enjoys the engineering manuals and seafaring tomes, but mostly uses the ones on statecraft to make himself doze off when his brain doesn't want to shut down and be quiet.

Genya Safin is a paranoid sleeper. Her bed is positioned and angled so she can watch the thin strip of light visible beneath her closed door, waiting for the old king's loathsome shadow to block out the glow from the other side. Long after his death, she'll wake and go rigid at the sound of footsteps in the hall. It takes her a while to actually let David into her bed, but when she does, she realises she finds him comforting, actually - he's so logical and steady that he can talk her down from even the worst of her dreams. He doesn't mind getting up to prove to her that her door is locked, or reassuring her nightly that the old king really is dead.

David Kostyk is That Guy. He talks in his sleep - quadratic equations and theories of immutability and assorted Fabrikator shop-talk. He gets up and wanders around sometimes - usually to and from his desk, but occasionally down the hall. At least once he's gotten up, put on a housecoat, double-checked the lock on the door for Genya, comforted her after a nightmare, and gone back to bed himself, having never really woken up in the first place. This is a known habit at the Little Palace, and has caused plenty of entertainment and consternation - he's "caught" Nikolai sneaking out of the Black General's chambers back when he was still the spare tsarevich, he's wandered into the war room at four-thirty in the morning to explain a prototype to General Kirigan, he's been found ambling about the kitchens barefoot. Everyone who tends to stay up late - Kirigan included - has kindly escorted David back to his own rooms at least once. His saving grace is that he's really quite particular about his pyjamas - they're Durast-made to feel heavy, like a weighted blanket, and he finds it difficult to drop off without the grounding sensation - so at least he's never gone sleepwalking in his birthday suit. He wanders a little less once he starts spending his nights with Genya - if she's resting her head on his shoulder, or has an arm draped over his chest, he seems to be reluctant to move her.

Ivan Kaminsky has night terrors, the kind that wake him screaming and thrashing and completely disoriented, trapped in his own blankets - the legacy of the front lines at the Fjerdan border over a century ago. As a younger man, fresh off the front lines with nothing to his name but a medical discharge from active duty, he'd often find himself seeking out General Kirigan, stumbling into his tent or the Little Palace war room pale and shivering and still in his sleep clothes, all terribly undignified. Kirigan never seemed to mind, really. It was an understanding of sorts, between old soldiers familiar with the lingering spectre of war. He'd give Ivan a cursory once-over - "Evening, Kaminsky." - pour him a drink, and push a stack of papers across the table to give him something to do. He misses it, sometimes, the long nights spent working in companionable quiet. But now the General spends his nights with the sun summoner and the puppy king who's been making eyes at him since he was a skinny princeling, and Ivan spends his with his Fedyor, who has a truly remarkable amount of patience for being woken up at all hours by all the flailing and yelling. Ivan still hates talking about his night terrors - Fedyor is too young to have ever fought in the campaigns that got Ivan his discharge papers, and Ivan is reluctant to place extra horrors on his shoulders - but Fedya would listen, if Ivan needed him to, and in the meantime, he'll regulate Ivan's heart rate and breathing for him, deactivate the fear centre of his brain and flood him with signals telling his brain he's close to sleep, until he really is.

Inej Ghafa likes to sleep in Kaz's office. Back when he first bought out her indenture and took her from the Menagerie, that was where she felt safest. Only one door, locked firmly behind him whenever he ventured down to the rowdy Club below, where the raised voices of drunken men made her feel sick with terror. Two windows, left open at her fearful request - exits, if she needed them. A comfortable leather couch. The scratch-scratch-scratch of Kaz's quill on paper. Jesper used to try to reassure her - no harm will come to you at the Crow Club, you're Kaz's - and a small, wounded part of her took that to heart. If her connection to Kaz Brekker kept her safe, this man who showed more interest in her blades than her body, then she would rest where he could see her, where that protection would be a physical, tangible thing. And he let her. Never complained, though she knows now what he's like about his privacy. Just let her curl up on his Chesterfield. Draped a blanket over her when it was cold.

She's not that terrified girl anymore. She has her own lodgings, with her own possessions, though she still has a nighttime ritual for safety - one final sweep of the building, checking her escape routes, jamming a chair beneath her door handle. But she's quite capable of protecting herself now. All the same, when she is injured or sick or has been summoned back to the Menagerie on business, she'll still climb through his window, breathe out a sigh of relief at the inevitable, unsurprised, "Hello, Inej," and make herself comfortable on the couch for the night.

Wylan Hendriks sleeps curled into a ball. He's spent his share of time on the streets of Ketterdam and that's how he's learned to do it - hugging his meagre bagful of possessions, threadbare blanket wrapped around him and it. In Jesper's room at the Crow Club, he likes to burrow under the blankets; he'll rest his head on Jesper's belly to sleep rather than his shoulder, so even his hair is covered. It muffles the sound drifting up from the club floor or the street outside in the evenings - the shouting, the drunken arguments and bitter insults tossed around like knives, anything that might remind him of - anyway. He tends to turn in fairly early compared to the other Crows - while he loves the music of the city's bars and even enjoys the camaraderie of watching Jesper gamble, closing time in most of Ketterdam peaks at around midnight, and that's about when all the socialising starts to get a bit much for him. The Barrel stays open late, and Kaz doesn't kick out his patrons until the early hours of the morning, so most of the Crows have become night owls by necessity. Wylan uses the hours between making his exit and Jesper finally coming to bed to decompress - compose, play his flute, experiment with chemicals, look at the books Jesper got him, the ones with all the pictures to tell him the fairytales. After a few incidents where Jesper bursting in drunk and noisy left Wylan...a little out of sorts...he's learned to knock, the same pattern every time, before he lets himself in, and it's always easier to uncurl a little and relax with Jesper holding him.

[steponmeinejghafa]

Little Disturbance

Summary: Alina and Aleksander are in a meeting, when you decide to disrupt it very, very, very politely. Which later leads to a nice, fluff-filled evening.

Darklina x Fem!Child!Reader

Warnings: None. Unless you count tooth-rotting fluff!

Age: 5

Note: For the sake of the story, Baghra is alive, and both the Darkling and Alina rule Ravka.

———

To be honest, sometimes your grandmother was a bit…dull. As much as you loved hanging out in her house, eating food every waking moment, it did get a bit boring. She had no interesting books, apart from Grisha hand manuals, and some books on lore so ancient it hadn’t been translated.

Granted, she told you stories of your father when he was younger, but even stories could keep a five year old entertained so much.

“Nana,” you said, looking up from your game with a few dolls Aleksander had made for you, “When can I meet Mama and Papa?”

Baghra, who was reading by the fireplace, replied, “They’re in a meeting, child. You are not to see them till the Palace’s dinner bell goes.”

“But I wanna check if they’re okay!” You whined, leaning forward to catch at her skirt with your small hands.

“If they weren’t okay, then we’d have known by know,” sighed the woman before nudging at your hands with her own. “Stop that fiddling, child.”

You did want to meet your parents, so you made a very logical decision when your grandmother wasn’t looking.

You stood up from the floor where you’d been playing and made a run for it.

You dashed down shortcuts and pathways, laughing at Baghra’s exclamations for you to stop.

You avoided Zoya, swerved around Genya, even tripped up poor Feydor, who was trying his best not to dirty his new boots, all to get to that meeting room.

You found the massive double doors which you’d been asked to never step inside of when they were closed, and pushed them open with all your might anyway, ignoring the guards who exclaimed at you to stop.

You went unnoticed as you closed the well-oiled door carefully, and you noticed your mother’s familiar kefta as well as the bun she wore whenever she had an official meeting.

You heard your father talking authoritatively and resisted the urge to run to him, and instead walked over to your mother.

Alina gasped softly upon feeling someone tug at her kefta sleeve, and laughed softly when she saw you grinning up at her. She quickly lifted you up and placed you on her lap such that you were facing her, asking in a low voice, “Did you sneak from Nana’s house all the way here?”

“Yes,” you grinned and nodded. “I escaped.”

“Oh, yes, my little escape artist,” she chuckled, kissing your nose. “Why? We’re you bored?”

“A little,” you nodded. “But I wanted to make sure you and Papa were okay!”

“Darling, if something happened to Mama and Papa, then you’d know immediately,” she said, turning you on her lap so that you faced the rest of the council members.

“I was missing you, Mama!” You whined, leaning into her.

“Alright, little one,” smiled Alina, squeezing you a little. “Be very quiet while this meeting goes on, okay?”

You nodded and listened to your father talking, catching his eye and smiling as he shot you a wink. He looked at Alina, who shook her head, then nodded at the board which had the map of Ravka on it.

One of the councilmen, Igor Romanov, raised his hand and inquired, “Er, sir, why is there a child in the room? I believe she is too young to be listening to this conversation and,” he glanced at Alina, who was coping at you as she let you play with her fingers, “Seems to be a bit of a distraction.”

“Councilman Romanov,” said your father, his face set like stone, “I appreciate your…concern, but as long as I am not distracted by the child, I don’t think any of you should pay her any mind.”

Feydor then burst into the room, panting as he apologised profusely, “I am so sorry, sir. I will escort her to her rooms if need be—“

“There will be no need, Feydor,” said Alina turning in her chair a little to face him. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my queen,” he bowed and excused himself.

“Now, as I was saying…” Aleksander’s voice continued what he’d been discussing earlier, and you slowly began to nod off in Alina’s arms, your father’s smooth baritone voice calming to your ears.

The meeting ended shortly, and Alina smiled and cooed at your sleeping figure, as your held her hand tightly as you did. Once the councilmen emptied out, Aleksander walked over and kissed his wife’s head, then yours, which startled you awake.

“Papa!” You squealed, reaching out to hug him.

“Hello, moya malenk’ya printessa (my little princess),” he smiled and lifted you off Alina’s lap, swinging you up and placing you back down again, earning a laugh from you. “How was your time with Nana?” He placed you on his hip, your mother walking beside him.

“A bit boring,” you admitted.

“And why did you come to the meeting room after Mama told you not to?” He asked, eyebrow raised, but a smile on his face.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay!” You said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I-“ he faltered for a moment, caught Alina’s eye, and proceeded to burst out laughing.

“Papa! It’s not funny!” You frowned. “Mama, tell him!”

“Aleksander,” said Alina, pausing her laughter and putting on a mock-serious glare. “Y/n is right. We could have been seriously injured. She can protect us, you know.”

Aleksander wiped a tear of laughter from his eye and said, “Ah, yes, of course my love. Indeed, indeed.”

The three of you went to the main palace, where you greeted the doormen happily, who simply bowed and stepped aside for you all to enter.

“Mama,” you asked, eyes on the doormen with their stony faces and blank eyes. “Why don’t they say hello back?”

“Oh, they’re not supposed to, little one,” Alina replied, gesturing for Aleksander to place you down. “There are rules for everything and everyone here.”

“That sounds boring,” you said, running around them. “I don’t like boring things.”

“Then you must bear with your Nana, because she loves you very much,” said your father, ruffling your hair. Alina gasped and hit him on his shoulder, earning an ‘ow’ from his end.

“That is your mother, Aleksander,” she scowled.

“Yes, yes, sorry, my love,” he nodded, rubbing the place where she’d hit him.

Alina scooped you up from where you were running around and said, “Someone needs to take a bath,” she placed you on her hip and smiled at you, “My little one smells like smoke and cloves. Did Nana decide to have you help her cooking lunch?”

You nodded, “Yes!” And giggled as you pulled out the pin which kept your mother’s hair up, earning a gasp from her when she took the pin from you.

“And I though I’d be the one to do that tonight,” Aleksander whispered in his wife’s ear, making a blush spread over her cheeks.

“Aleksander, please, there is a child present,” she chided.

She took you to their room, placing you on the bed and picking out a nightdress of your choice as Aleksander tickled and laughed with you.

“Thank god, no more meetings for another two days,” laughed Alina as she took you to the bathroom, Aleksander sitting on the bed, reading a book.

“Mama,” you said, reaching for the laces of your dress. “I heard from Genya that there’s going to be a travelling circus and carnival coming to the town tomorrow ! Can we go?”

Alina helped you with the laces and smiled, “Well, if you do your lessons properly tomorrow without trying to escape, then maybe we can go.”

“Yes!” You squealed, sitting in the tub and letting her bathe you quickly, singing a soft Ravkan song to keep you occupied.

“There,” she said, tying your hair in a braid. “Now my little one’s much fresher.”

You nodded and smiled, running into your parents’ bedroom, leaping on your father with a bright grin, making him laugh and place his book away.

“Mama said we can go to the circus tomorrow!” You squealed. “You’ll come with us, right?”

“Of course, little one,” he nodded, kissing your forehead. “Family day.”

“I’m gonna win a crow figurine this time for sure!” You said, turning your stag figurine in your hands, which Alina kept on the bedside table before you’d bathed.

“What all have you won so far?” He asked, picking you up and taking you to your room, Alina close behind as she talked in a hushed voice to a servant who’d handed her a letter.

You pointed at the shelf on your bookcase which was full of animal figurines from a long time of your father and mother helping you win them at every carnival which came to town.

“I’ve got a stag, a lion, a lynx…” you rambled on, naming every single animal on your shelf, placing the stag on its place carefully.

“What do you say to a puzzle before bed?” Your father asked after having listened to your long talk about different animals.

“Puzzle!” You grinned. Aleksander knew you loved puzzles. The picture ones or the brain teasers which one of his Durasts would make almost every day, you and him always sat and solved them together. If he couldn’t do it because of work, he’d solve two with you the next day.

He pulled out two paper packages from his kefta pockets, placing them in front of you. “Which one?” He asked with a smile.

You thought for a moment and pointed at the one on the left, which he handed to you, and took the right one for himself.

You opened it to find a simple cube of interlocking pieces, one of which you took out to disassemble the whole cube.

Alina sat next to you, pulling you into her lap as you started to figure out how to solve your puzzle.

Aleksander had a wooden six-point star, which he took apart and began to try and reassemble, while Alina and you both ganged up on him, her helping you with your puzzle, while Aleksander struggled with his.

“That is not fair, you cannot use your intellectual strength to defeat me!” Complained your father.

Someone knocked at the door, and Alina placed you off her lap to open it.

“Aleksander,” she said, seeing Feydor, “It’s for you.”

Aleksander placed down his puzzle and sighed, ruffling your hair as you continued to try solving your puzzle.

Alina sat back with you, listening to you talk about random things as you took apart the puzzle for what felt like the tenth time, grumbling in frustration.

“Papa,” you whined, “I can’t solve it!”

“Just a minute, moya malen’kya printessa,” he said, before glaring back at Feydor.

Alina noticed their interaction becoming more and more heated in whispers, and decided to step in.

“Is everything alright?” Asked the Sun Summoner, frowning slightly, standing next to Aleksander.

“I have to go to Novyi Zem,” he muttered. “Tonight. The governor needs me at a meeting for their economical security matters.”

“At this hour?” Asked Alina, her brow furrowing further. “Can’t it wait? You promised Y/n about the circus and carnival.”

“I’m afraid this matter is a bit too grave, and can’t be avoided,” sighed Aleksander. “And I think the two of us will have to go.”

“Sadly yes,” said Feydor. “The governor has requested both of you to be there.”

“Oh for Saints’ sake—“ scoffed Alina. “We have a child to take care of, doesn’t anyone understand that?”

“Nannies are something I can sugges—“ Feydor began, but was cut off by a glare from both your parents.

“I refuse to be some absent parent in my child’s life for the sake of convenience, Feydor,” said your father. “Inform the governor that Alina and I will be able to make it day after tomorrow, due to personal matters.”

“Mama…” you whined trudging over to Alina and tugging at her kefta, “I need help with my puzzle!”

“If you both could take this conversation outside, I’d appreciate it,” your mother said authoritatively. She took your hand and sat on the bed, helping you with your puzzle.

“Do you and Papa have to go again?” You asked, pouting as you looked at your mother with big, watery, e/c eyes.

“No, no,” she shook her head, pulling you into her lap for a cuddle. “We are not going anywhere, my love.”

You sniffled and buried your face in her now-open hair, your small hands fisting in her kefta’s soft fabric, relaxing a bit when she rubbed your back soothingly.

Aleksander rushed over after having told Feydor what to do, and immediately asked frantically, “What’s wrong, Y/n, my love?”

You mumbled and hid your face in Alina’s neck, and she explained that you were upset because she and him might have to go away for a trip again.

Your father took you in his lap and said, “I postponed the meeting to day after, so we can go to the carnival and get you your crow figure. We are going to have the best day in history, I promise you that.”

You nodded and yawned, nuzzling into him as he patted your back gently to lull you to sleep.

“She’s a Papa’s girl for sure,” laughed Alina, caressing your hair.

“Absolutely,” nodded Aleksander as he gently placed you down to lay on the bed.

Before they could leave, you caught Alina’s hand and opened your eyes with a pout.

“Mama,” you said tiredly, “Sing, please.”

Laughing softly, Alina lay beside you, propping herself up on her elbow as you curled up into her relaxing as she began to stroke your hair. On your other side sat your father, who’s hand you held firmly.

Alina began singing Ravkan lullabies, and Aleksander accompanied the ones he knew. You slowly fell asleep, and Aleksander soon realised he was the only one singing, as Alina, too, had fallen asleep, with you curled into her an her arm draped protectively across you.

He smiled and placed a blanket over the two of you, before pausing upon feeling your hand tighten over his. He lay down too, feeling warmth bloom in his chest as you snuggled closer to him.

And so, your evening concluded, with you asleep in your parents arms, a true image of tranquility.

———

Hi! It’s me, Anne! I hope you like this one, please feel free to request!

[ludi-cerealia]

Love! That red disease—Your spell and who’s caught it.

Welcome to my very first pick a card reading !

Breathe deeply, and choose the image that you feel most drawn to find out how you bewitch others and who thus lays spellbound. Remember to only take what resonates with you, and if you don’t feel particularly drawn to this reading, there may not be a message for you. Piles are Left to Right: Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3. Enjoy! :)

Decks used: Goddess Power Oracle, Language of Flowers Oracle, Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Deck, Black Moon Astrology Cards, Milo Manara Tarot, Claude Monet Impressionism Art Tarot, Light Visions Tarot, Children of Litha Tarot

Pile 1 — Sanctum

Your spell is one of banishing — of self-imposed sanctuary within which much arcane and occult is withheld; though the hermit was not present in your spread, your energy presents as opaque, detached, independent, and deeply complex. Look, don't touch, look into the abyss and find an abyss looking back. There is more to you than meets the eye and ear yet there is so little to read, yet others are lain bare before you; dismissed only as an act of mercy. You are not to be prevailed, and much of your allure draws from your mysterious character upon which one can only make conjecture and not much else. Almost determined to be elusive and yet effortlessly so, your nature appears bent on evading capture of anyone's unsolicited curiosity. Spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally it appears you are entirely detached; thus others come seeking yet shy away at moment's scrutiny. It may be that your magic is innate and outpouring, such that you may possess spiritual gifts that are distinctly shrewd to any means of unwanted prying; you may even preemptively ward your energy from evil eye. Thus others find you sacred and untouchable, perhaps even virginal for a few of you; their worship is one of distanced awe.

Thank you so much for letting me read your energy Pile 1! I saw an image of someone being startled or alarmed then looking around the room while I was tapping into your energy (which was rather difficult), so pardon for the intrusion if you sensed it!

(Cards: Sagittarius ~ I see, Leo ~ I will , Void of Course Moon~ Missing, Crow, Lilith ~ Independence, Connection ~ Forget Me Not, Detachment~ Sacred Lotus, Emperor, High Priestess rx, Five of Swords rx)

(Channeled song: Maze// Alina Baraz )

— Forgotten

As to who is caught in your spell, you may well already know; I heard that many have fallen at your feet but one is particularly scorned. This is someone waiting in the wings for you, Pile 1, someone perhaps you know through work or social circles that feels their attempts at getting your attention bear no fruit. It may be that they are younger or more inexperienced than you are, but it feels more so that they stumble and stutter whenever they're around you, utterly disarmed. However, despite them feeling unacknowledged or unseen, they are aware it is no one else's fault but their own for not approaching you formally or directly. I heard this may be a matter of workplace crush or admiration, more so a matter of seeking validation from your approval than anything deeply emotional. They believe that in due time that you will come to see them as someone worthwhile (I even heard opponent, so perhaps a rival of yours?), but I don't think they'll get what they want from you. I heard no one can.

(Cards: Page of Pentacles rx, Eight of Pentacles rx, Six of Wands rx, Seven of Pentacles)

Pile 2 — Alpha

Your spell is one that brings the earth to heel, but not by conquest; by the reins life is tamed in the palm of your keen hunter's hand. You bring wonder to the mundane as life's steady maker: grounded, practical, and resilient; your wisdom for living appears to know no bounds, and your patience endures evergreen never worse for wear. Your touch is a warm green, like spring, though one may think you jaded, your soul is found tender in your lukewarm gaze. To others you are a guiding star, a hunter's moon, the third man whose sound reason is sought in the thick of howling alps. In you others find a home away from home, a shelter stern yet welcoming. Others may wonder if you have an affinity for nature, that flora and fauna trail in your wake like wood nymphs of eld. They also wonder if you have a safe haven to call your own, that as you strive tirelessly in service of others, do you ever lay your weary head to rest? Does your caution know end? They wonder if there is an unseen danger known only to you, that belying stoic pride is a tired ghost that demands its due. Strong earth placements pertaining the benefics, particularly Virgo/ 6th house.

(Cards: Capricorn~ I use, Earth~ Stability, Fourth House~ Roots, Deer, Artemis~ Focus, Enthusiasm~ Delphinium , Honour~ Chinese Peony, Hierophant, Nine of Cups, The Star rx, Four of Swords (Seven of Swords))

(Channeled songs: Safe and Sound // Taylor Swift; Running With the Wolves // Aurora) 

—Lost Love

 This is someone who looks back fondly on the memories and journeys you share, halcyon days bygone. They miss you deeply, Pile 2, this is someone whose emotions for you run deeply, who at one point envisioned a perfect picket fence life with you. I heard "with you to the end of days" and "the one that got away", and I can't help but feel like the feeling is mutual. With the two of cups and eight of cups respectively, they wonder constantly about what could've been had they chosen differently. Would they have it all with you? What is everything without you? They see that you are well, it feels bittersweet but they tell themselves its better to believe it sincere than a facade. I heard knowing wouldn't make a difference, love is all they can offer but no more of what you deserve. They would not allow themselves even the fantasy of you, Pile 2, it hurts them to dream; and it hurts even more to fight for you. 

(Cards: Two of Cups, Eight of Cups, Seven of Cups rx, Five of Wands rx)

Pile 3 — Maverick

You make a tightrope walk seem like a cakewalk, Pile 3, you move with impeccable and eerie grace in life; as if method and madness found in you one merry union divinely orchestrated. Your magic is one of confusion, Pile 3, you leave others dumbstruck at every turn, as the can never quite know what to make of you. I heard that you're made of stardust, star stuff! You come into others awareness like a puzzle that abides by no reason, and thus begins their unexpected descent into obsession for closure and control; as if to capture you in mind is to capture you in your entirety. You take space with your grand presence Pile 3, and others seem aware immediately that within you is a deeper knowing; and even discern that within you too is a yearning for belonging, for community, that is beyond what they can provide. You have lived many lives and each skin you unburden with grace and dignity; there is no end to your power of metamorphosis. People are in awe that despite yourself in all your grand quirks and peculiarities, you are a social chameleon that finds welcome wherever you go, and yet remain a mystery unsolved all the same. However, as the saying goes, often nails that stick out get hammered down— People wonder if your past is a cross you bear :that your careful camouflage is not superfluous, but rather necessary.  The world is harsh but you have not grown harsher, rather softer; and that too is a wonder to be admired, that your curiosity survives experience.

(Cards: Mars ~ Action, Libra ~I balance, Uranus ~ Genius, Iris~ Communication, Black Egg, Balance ~ Camelia, Rebirth~ Secret Blue Lily, Temperance, Ten of Swords, Queen of Cups, King of Pentacles )

(Channeled song: crazy=genius// panic! at the disco, fallen alien// fka twigs)

As to who is under your spell, though the ten of cups was present in the spread; I was not getting anything romantic, but rather wistful. People from your past are seeing you shine Pile 3, and they wish you all the best despite having parted ways, they see that your journey has much further to go still, and they hope that your paths will join once more. If you think people from your past have forgotten or are not watching, they certainly are, Pile 3! Sorry that there wasn't much I could glean from the spread, Pile 3! 

(Cards: Five of Swords rx,  Ten of Cups, Six of Pentacles, Page of Swords)

I hope you enjoyed this PAC! I’d really love to hear how it resonates for you. Any and all feedback is welcome. If you liked my work, do consider tipping me .

[witchthewriter]

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ platonic, gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, talking about chronic pain

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  

・You had cursed whatever maker there was that you weren't born a Healer.

・And even though other grisha had tried to help you, they all said the same thing: it was untreatable. Not like a broken bone that could be mended, or a scar that could disappear

・It was a pain that was caused in childhood and left untreated for too long. Damn abusive parents, you cursed almost daily, as you pushed through the pain as soon as you woke

・Nina had searched far and wide for treatment

・She had been your best friend since your first year at the Little Palace. You weren't even in the same order, but something about her was magnetic. And she always knew how to make you laugh.

・You tried to keep your chronic illness as hidden as possible. But some days were just too difficult to navigate. Your bones ached, your back was sometimes so sore that you couldn't leave the bed.

・Even the Darkling himself came to see you when you missed a few classes.

・He brought all the physicians that the King would allow. And they all said the same thing.

"Too much damage from childhood. If they were brought to a healer then, they would be healed. But now ... we can only give small things to help."

・When you found that out, you cried for three days and never left your rooms.

・The best tonic that was created lulls you a bit but somehow takes away a lot of the pain. Not all of it. But you can carry on like everyone else for a while. The problem is running out of it.

・You always wanted to be like the other grisha - able to perform your duties without retched pain coursing through your body

・The Darkling doesn't send you on missions, that hurt you so badly but he had you trained in other parts of war, like how to shoot, but more importantly the mind games.

・And then people started to notice that you were different

・It was the Darkling himself that said you were special and unique, and that anyone who said a bad word against you would be held accountable.

・Nina takes you on little adventures and no matter where you are, she always has the tonic on her, in case of emergencies

・Sometimes you need to rely on a cane, and you can't walk long distances easily, but Nina couldn't care less. It makes you feel useless, but she constantly tells you how much worth you have

"Even if you weren't grisha, you have so much talent, and light and power. There is no one else like you. Please, keep going. Take it day by day."

・Whenever you're apart, she'll send you letters so you have something to look forward to. And she always brings back gifts from her journeys. You treasure each and every one of them.

・Even though you have chronic pain, and it affects your abilities - it actually doesn't mean you're useless. Not at all. In fact, even Zoya respects you. You knew how bullies worked and had no problem standing up to them.

・Everyone in the Little Palace makes sure you're okay. Because grisha look out for grisha.

・You spent a lot of time with Bagra, who told you riddles and stories. Prompting you to seek answers for yourself.

・She helped you think.

・You became a very sought out person for advice and wisdom. Especially when the war broke out. You were one of the most important people besides The Darkling and Alina as somehow you knew both of their secrets.

・You were too good at mind games.

[aleksanderscult]

Joker: "You see in their last moments, people show you who they really are."

Meanwhile the Darkling in his last moments:

"Blue sky" = he marvelled at the beauty of the world around him. Reminding us of the fact that he loved everything bright. ("Blue like the True Sea")

"Alina"..."Alina" = calling the girl that he loved at his side, searching for her arm to hold it cause he needed comfort and her company.

"Someone to mourn me" = he could scowl at her, spit on her or ignore her. But no. Even though she stabbed him he stroked her tears away, smiled at her and found solace in the fact that someone loves him and mourns his demise.

"No grave. For them to desecrate" = he doesn't want his body to be defiled. If he goes down, he wants to rest in peace at last. After so many years of war and conflict.

"Once more. Speak my name once more" = he wanted to hear his name from her lips. I bet he loved the sound of it whenever she said it (🥲). He wanted to hear the name that was tattooed on his heart and hidden from all. One more time before the end.

"Don't let me be alone" = he desired her presence at his side until the end. He didn't want to venture into the dark alone. The dark that frightened him so much when he was little. But also all his life was alone but for a mother who verbally and emotionally abused him. He came to fear loneliness and we can see that in this line too.

So yes, in his last moments he was Aleksander. A boy broken and damaged. Not a villain. Just a lonely boy. That's what he truly was.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd, abuse, violence

AO3 link

Chapter 7 - Inej

Inej did not sleep well. When she woke, to dawn streaming into her eyes beneath the base of the blind, Nina was still sleeping soundly with one arm wrapped around her pillow. Inej sat up and stretched the aches of the floor out of her spine. She didn’t like the idea of being away from her knives all night but she also couldn’t really sleep with them all hidden in her night clothes, so she’d brought two - Sankt Petyr and Sankta Alina, from the quickdraws she wore on her arms - and lay one on Nina’s desk, the other beneath the tiny nightstand above Inej’s head so she could grab it at a moment’s notice. 

The sunbeams caressing Inej’s face were warmed by the glass but when she dared to pull the edge of the blind a tiny enough fraction open that she thought should not wake Nina, she saw the world far below them looking cold in the winds that chased each other through trees and battered the bushes. Inej dropped the blind and turned away, freezing in place for a moment when Nina stirred on the bed - but she didn’t wake. And Inej didn’t need to be afraid. She took a slow breath, trying to shake this feeling away, and picked up her knives. When Nina awoke, an hour or so later, Inej was sitting cross-legged on the desk chair with both of their new timetables in her hands. Kaz had told them he just stuffed random classes around the ones they needed to be in; Wylan Van Eck would probably get wise if they showed up from nowhere into every one of his lessons, so he picked and chose a few for each of them. 

“Morning,” said Inej, smiling as she looked up to see Nina slowly emerging from beneath a pile of pillows and duvet.

Nina mumbled something incoherent and flopped back into her cushions for a minute, before rolling over and asking Inej for the time.

“Just past eight bells,”

“Ugh, how disgusting,” Nina muttered, slowly sitting up, “How long have you been up?”

“Not long,”

Nina stretched, sighing softly, then stood up. Inej got to her feet, toes wriggling inside her socks. She didn’t like sleeping barefoot, but she hadn’t gone as far as to carry her boots with her to Nina’s room in the middle of the night. She felt suddenly exposed though, in her ill-fitting pyjamas and her socks, like she was doing something wrong. She wanted her knives. And her boots.

Inej shuffled, ready to move to the door and tell Nina she’d meet her in the hall once they were both dressed.

“You need some new pyjamas,” said Nina, taking Inej by surprise. She was watching the way Inej fidgeted with the droopy neckline of her button down, “Those aren’t yours, are they?”

“They’re the only ones I have,” Inej shrugged, “Jesper found them for me,”

It had only been a day or two after she’d come to the Slat, when he’d happened upon her waking up, fully dressed. He snatched them from somewhere, she supposed. Inej had waited all week for him to take what he wanted in return, a quaking, gnawing sensation growing in her chest whenever she saw him. Kaz had told her nothing was expected of her here but he had also told her he wouldn’t be able to watch out for her; she had to take care of herself. So every time her path crossed with Jesper’s, Inej would slip her fingers into her brass knuckles and keep them hidden in her pocket, waiting. Waiting, and praying she’d be strong enough to fight whatever he might bring her way. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. And when Inej finally convinced herself that nothing ever would, she started sleeping in the night clothes he had given her. 

“It didn’t occur to Kaz you’d need real night clothes?” asked Nina, shaking her head.

Inej smiled.

“Demons that don’t sleep forget that other people need to, remember?”

Nina made a sound closer to just exhaling than real laughter. She looked annoyed, but Inej didn’t think she needed to be. Kaz had done a thousand things for her and more. And even the first night they’d walked to the Slat, Inej’s bare feet slowly gathering dust and grime and little nicks on the unpleasant streets of the Barrel, she’s arrived at the Slat to neatly folded collections of clothes sitting on the bed he said was hers; shirts, trousers, socks and real underwear. And it was barely any time later that he appeared again, holding out a pair of boots.

“They won’t work for climbing though, will they?”

She shook her head.

“What will you need?”

“Something with rubber soles. Preferably,”

Kaz had nodded, then he was gone. 

Compared to everything, what was a pair of pyjamas? 

“Can I ask you a question?” asked Nina, pulling a dressing down over her flighty nightdress.  

Inej watched her warily for a moment.

“I guess. I can’t promise that I’ll answer,”

“Do you… do you sleep in your bed at the Slat? Or on the floor,”

Inej swallowed.

“Depends,”

She waited for Nina to prompt her further, genuinely not sure if she would answer her or not, but no further questions came. 

There wasn’t really room to sleep on the floor at the Slat; the room - her room - was barely big enough to fit the bed and the slim chest she kept her clothes in. But some nights she would curl up on the cold boards, her legs partially beneath the bed so there was enough space for her to fit, a thin blanket pulled around her shoulders. Or maybe the duvet, depending on the night. Other times the floor was the worse option, summoning memories of punishments and dark rooms. Inej had once been unable to lift herself off the floor for days, when Tante Heleen had beaten her so badly she couldn’t work for a week. 

“What’s first?” asked Nina, nodding to the timetables Inej had forgotten she was holding.

She looked down at them.

“I’ll see him first,” she said, “for chemistry. I don’t know anything about chemistry,”

“Well with a bit of luck he might,” said Nina, now rooting through her bag, “You can ask him for help, get his attention”

Inej was going to be terrible at this. She knew, theoretically, that Kaz had put her on this job because it would give her better facility for what came next - the part she was actually good at - but she still couldn’t help but continually wonder why on earth he had thought this would be a good idea. 

“Excuse me?” she said, approaching the boy sitting near the end of a row towards the back of the lecture hall, and the empty seat next to him, as soon as she got into the classroom.

It had taken so long to find this building that it was a good job she’d left early. Tonight’s job was definitely to learn the layout of the campus. Inej knew the city’s rooftops intimately, for the most part, but she'd never before had cause to venture through the University District. It sprawled just South of the Geldin District, built neater than the Financial District to its West but still with the same practice of generous spaces between the buildings, roads stretching wider than anything they were used to in the Barrel. The further West you moved through the city the more crowded it became; the buildings got closer to each other, the streets got thinner, even the canals narrowed until they were barely wide enough for the pleasure barges of the Barrel to move through them. 

Wylan Van Eck looked up. If Inej hadn’t already known they were the same age she would’ve thought he was younger than her. His curls were soft, almost glowing in the sun pouring through the window behind them, and Inej noted the silvery line of the little scar above his right cheekbone, just where Nina had said it was. Three thin lines over his eyes, Nina said she’d found, and one down the side of his nose. Inej wondered what had happened. 

“Hi,” she said, “Erm, do you mind if I sit here?”

He looked a little surprised, but nodded all the same.

“Yeah, sure”

“Thanks,” she took the seat next to his and place her notebook on the table, “I’m Inej, I just started here”

“Wylan,” he smiled, a little awkwardly, “Are you a transfer student, then?”

“I’m from Ravka,” she said, trying to calm the twitching of her fingers. It wasn’t like she was lying, “I just moved here,”

Okay, well that that was a lie. But it was close enough.

“Reckon I’m going to have quite a lot to catch up on,”

Wylan hesitated, and then there was a pause so long that Inej thought they were done talking before he said:

“It’s not too difficult a class. If you already studied some chemistry in Ravka I think you’ll be okay,”

Inej had never studied chemistry, but all the same she sighed in what she hoped sounded like relief.

“Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better,”

There was another long bout of silence. The lecture started and Inej made vague, confused notes to keep up appearances, mostly half sentences followed by question marks. The professor had been going on about the same molecule for an entire fifty minutes and Inej was starting to wonder why anyone cared, but Wylan seemed to be paying rapt attention. She watched him closely; she didn’t know how anyone kept all of this nonsense in their heads when they could look back through notes to remind themselves, let alone how Wylan was supposed to manage it. At one point the professor drew the structure of the molecule slowly on the board and Wylan must have been able to count the strokes of the chalk and align them with what they’d been told so far because he traced an almost perfect rendition of it across the desk with his finger, but other than that he didn’t seem to have any way of taking record of the lecture. The class eventually began to filter out.

“How did you find it?” asked Wylan.

“I, erm…” Inej hesitated, “I was a little lost,”

“Which part? I can try to help, if you want - I don’t know any Ravkan though, if it’s because you don’t know it in Kerch,”

Inej looked at her notes. At some point she’d doodled a bunch of flowers in the margin and not much else - maybe she owed Jesper an apology about his butterfly. 

“I’m just not sure chemistry’s my thing,” she admitted, “What does nucleophilic substitution mean?”

“That’s the mechanism,” Wylan explained, “Opposites attract. In this one the carbon is slightly more positive than the bromine it’s bound to, and the hydroxide ion has a negative charge because of the electron pair,”

As he went on and described the movement of the ions, or whatever they were, Inej wasn’t entirely convinced he was still speaking Kerch, but she nodded anyway and tried to sound like she understood. 

“Thank you so much - oh, I should be going, I have another class. I don’t suppose you know where the Gierveld Building is, do you?”

“I’m going that way too,” said Wylan.

Inej already knew that, but she was hoping it was a good sign she was doing her job right that he was happy to volunteer the information.

“What class do you have?”

Inej glanced at her timetable.

“Religious studies,” 

Kaz had seriously signed her up for Religious studies? She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not. Probably. Almost definitely.

“Tricks,” he’d told her, when she had once again fruitlessly argued with him about miracles not long ago. She didn’t know why she still bothered, “Frauds, conartists, whatever you want to call them,”

“Saints,”

“Liars,” he pulled a card from thin air, and handed it to her. Queen of Spades. “I don’t see you throwing yourself at the feet of every cheap coin magician you meet, Inej,”

“Those are tricks,” she snapped, “And I don’t throw myself at the feet of anyone,”

Kaz rolled his eyes. He was sitting at his desk in the Crow Club, papers in neat stacks in front of him as he updated the ledgers. Inej knew he only kept books for the sake of Per Haskell, or so he had something to point at for proof when someone skimmed or if the stadwatch claimed he wasn’t paying his taxes; he could track every deal, every exchange, every single coin in his head with barely a second thought. She wondered sometimes what it felt like; was there a neatly organised filing system in his head, like the one she was looking at on his desk and on his shelves? Or did he need those here, because in his mind it was quite the opposite? She imagined all those details, all those memories, clamouring for attention and climbing over each other for the spotlight. Maybe remembering with such accuracy had a kind of price to it, just like everything else in this Saintsforsaken town.

“What about Sankta Alina?” Inej had asked him.

“What about her?”

“She was a living Saint, Kaz, right in front of everyone,”

“Was she? Or was she just a very unlucky girl with the weight of the world shoved on top of her until she wound up crushed to death beneath it? Grisha aren’t Saints,”

“Not all Grisha do what she did,”

“And not all Grisha are martyrs, Inej,” he shook his head, “What are you really worshipping here, if your Saints have to die to be listened to?”

They could chase each other in circles forever and at this rate maybe they would, but that night Inej had left him with parting words muttered in Suli as she swung out into the evening air and seethed at him her entire journey home.

“I have a business class,” said Wylan, standing slowly and running his hand along the desk until he found the slender cane leaning against it, “but we can walk over together,”

Inej smiled.