#genya safin x female! reader

[usmsgutterson]

The Great Chocolate Toffee Biscuit Debate- Genya Safin x fem! reader

This one was requested by a lovely anon, and anon, if you’re reading, thank you so much for sending this in! I’ve been writing for Genya what feels like a lot lately and to be frank I have loved every minute of it, writing fics for genya has been an absolute joy in my experience and this fic was no different--I had an absolute blast writing this one, so again, thank you!

Fic type- this is just. it is fluff incarnate

Warnings- this fic was started at around 2:30 in the morning and finished at 3:20. I’ve queued it and unless I’m out and about at the point in which is published, it has probably been proofread but if I did, it was just a quick readthrough because I didn’t have the time to do more, so excuse any spelling/grammatical errors

“It is simply the truth,” you rebutted as you and Alina walked the halls of the Spinning Wheel. “I am not wrong about this. I refuse to be. You cannot possibly enjoy a chocolate toffee biscuit at nine bells in the morning--there’s no way! The pastry you eat at nine bells is a post-breakfast cherry turnover. Chocolate toffee biscuits are for midday at best. All chocolate things aside from crepes and chocolate pancakes are not morning snacks nor are they morning desserts.” 

“I think that I’m right and I think that you hate it,” Alina said with a grin as the two of you moved. “One can absolutely enjoy a chocolate toffee biscuit or even a chocolate scone at nine bells in the morning, especially if ones prior breakfast was a plate of bloody pickled herring.” 

“Well, if I were to ask your beloved I’m sure he might agree with me, considering that there was the option of chocolate scones at breakfast and he chose a cherry turnover instead.”

“I’ll bet that Nikolai would agree that chocolate is an all day snack,” Alina rebutted, and you just laughed. 

You hadn’t noticed Genya, who’d been meaning to pay a visit to Baghra and had left her room to do so. She’d been watching you, registering that weird flip her heart did as she turned her head to watch you go. Her heart was positively on fire, thrumming at a racing pace, and she was putting in no effort to return it to normal. 

It was only when she registered the hint of a smile crossing her face that she turned, pressed her forehead against the cool of the stone wall behind her. She was falling in love with you, hard and fast, and she knew already that it was too late to stop it. 

“You and my sister would make quite a match,” Nikolai said. Genya jumped a bit and turned to face him, eyes wide with her surprise. 

“I never meant--”

“To look at her how Alina looks at Mal?” Nikolai asked. “Hell, how she looks at you when you’re so absorbed in your own thoughts that you don’t notice?”

Genya took a step back and said nothing. Nikolai smiled, handsome, charming, self assured. 

“You would be good for her,” he said. “Of course, agreeing with her stance on the Great Chocolate Toffee Biscuit Debate of Ravka’s Second Civil War is necessary, but that’s just because Tolya and I will vocally be on Alinas side in the matter as Nadia has been since the debate started two days ago. Y/N only has Tamar and maybe Zoya. She could use the help, and since David will agree with her stance, she needs your vote to break even and win.” 

Genya laughed. “Cherry scones are better anyway.” 

“False!” Nikolai shouted as she turned and began to walk away. 

“Right, and prettier than you by a mile, Lantsov!” 

“You wish!” 

“I don’t wish, I’m right and I know it,” Genya said, making sure she got the last word before rushing towards the stairs at the end of the corridor, going to find Baghra as she thought about finding the right moment to vocalize her opinion in the silliest debate she had ever heard of or witnessed. 

[steponmeinejghafa]

Dance With Me

Summary: Nina forces you to come to a ball with her, and soon finds out why you didn’t want to be there in the first place.

Nina Zenik x fem!Kostyk!Reader

Warnings: Stressful social setting

Note: In this, pretend Nina never went to Fjerda in KoS. This is a little before those events, but definitely after Nikolai renounced his title as Sturmhond. And you’re a Durast, just so you know. And slightly neurodivergent. Very slightly.

———

You were quietly minding your own business at the Little Palace, helping some younger Fabrikators with their abilities. Your teacher had assigned them to you earlier that week, knowing you could help them as much as possible, with your never-ending patience and calming demeanour.

All of a sudden, Nina burst into the room, frightening you and one of the other children, who accidentally threw the metal ball he was practising with at you with his power.

“Saints alive-“ you wheezed, holding your side where the object had collided with you. “Um- why don’t you go there in the corner and practise hand movements, hm?”

“Sorry, Y/n…” the boy said sheepishly. You smiled and patted his head before he ran off to join his friends on the other side of the room.

“Nina,” you breathed out, looking at her practically vibrating with excitement. “What was so important that you had to burst in so…loudly?”

She was clutching a letter in her hands and squealed, “Nikolai’s planned a ball for absolutely no reason!”

“Lovely for you,” you smiled and kissed her forehead. “Forgive my asking, but…what does that have to do with me?”

“He’s invited you, me, Tamar, Nadia, Zoya, and the others, so you have got to come with me!” She giggled.

Your heart dropped to your knees at the very thought of going to a ball, where people danced expertly, knew how to woo a lady, and definitely didn’t step on their partner’s toes while waltzing.

“Um…my love, may we discuss this a little later?” You asked, looking around the room, any where but at her.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” you smiled. “It’s all good, just…I need to think it over.”

“Lovely!” She clapped her hands joyfully and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, which was punctuated by a dragged out ‘ew’ from the children.

Nina laughed and nodded, mouthing, ‘I should go,’ before squeezing your hand and going out.

Later that evening, you were, again, minding your own business after having returned to the royal palace, when she burst in yet again, making you almost upset your ink bottle over the paper you were writing on.

“My-my dear, if you could just knock before entering it would be far better-“ you laughed nervously, pushing your chair back as she planted herself on your lap. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, and you leaned up, kissing her cheek before smiling.

“Did you think it over?” She asked, leaning into your touch as you rested your cheek against the back of her shoulder.

You sighed, “I did, and I don’t- I don’t think I want to go…”

“Why not?” She asked, and you could practically hear her pout. “It’s a lovely evening to go for! There’s dancing, there’s music, there’s food…”

“Um…I think we can get that at any posh place in the city,” you admitted. “I just…I don’t want to go.”

“But darling, please,” she whined, turning so that her lower back rested against the edge of your table. Her arms looped around your neck as her soft green eyes met your e/c ones. “I really want to go with you! It’s been ages since we last went to an event together!”

You sighed and gave in, “Alright, but I will not dance.”

She gasped, “But why?!”

“I draw the line at dancing, my dear,” you said. “Please let it be enough that I agree to go.”

She decided not to press the matter further, and smiled brightly, her eyes grinning and her entire face lighting up. “I love you,” she said, before leaning down to kiss your lips gently.

“And I, you,” you said softly, smiling against her lips.

—Time Skip—

The day of the ball came faster than expected, and you were a nervous wreck as you and the others got ready for the festivities.

“What’s got you all jittery, Y/n?” Zoya asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re trembling like a leaf in a storm.”

“Zoya, have you met Y/n?” Nadia laughed. “She’s like her brother, she hates social gatherings like these.”

“So she’s a little baby,” Tamar joked, poking you in the side playfully.

“Don’t be mean, now,” Genya chided them all as she tailored her hair a little redder. “Y/n just finds them mildly uncomfortable. As does David.”

“No, no, I agree with them,” you nodded, pulling on the jacket which went with your suit. “I hate social gatherings.”

“Nina, how is it that you fell in love with her?” Zoya laughed, braiding her hair so she could twist it into a bun. “She’s the exact opposite of you.”

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for the quiet ones,” Nina giggled, coming over and kissing your cheek. “Lace me up, would you darling?”

You were already fidgety, and thankfully, lacing up your girlfriend’s dress helped quite a bit. “I was bullied into attending,” you admitted, earning a laugh from all of them. Confusion shadowed over your face as you frowned a little, “Why is that funny?”

“It just is, N/n,” Tamar ruffled your hair, earning a disgruntled noise from you as you gently pushed her hand away.

“I will…um…check on the boys,” you nodded, “Yes, I’ll go check on them.”

You hurried out of the room before anyone could stop you, counting your steps as you went to Nikolai’s massive dressing room, knowing it was precisely 203 steps away from Zoya’s, where you had been a moment ago.

You entered after knocking, and sat down on a small chair right beside a mirror.

“We’re the girls teasing you again?” Nikolai chuckled as he put his white shirt on. “Or were you just coming to visit?”

“I don’t know what they were doing, actually,” you frowned. “But I do know I don’t want to go to the ball.”

“Then don’t go,” Tolya said as if it was he most obvious thing in the world as he combed his hair back. Ball or not, he was still dressing as sharply as a soldier.

“You see, as a fact, Nina does not really enjoy missing any social gathering,” you said. “And I, on the other hand, would rather die than go to one.”

Nikolai began to wear his tie and laughed, “Am I really such a nuisance for organising these gatherings that you would rather die than attend them?”

“No, I-“ you paused, analysing his statement. “Was that a joke?”

“Yes, Y/n, yes it was,” he grinned, also ruffling your hair.

“Why does everyone keep doing that?” You mumbled, fixing your hair again.

“I agree with my sister,” came your brother’s similarly quiet voice. “I cannot say I enjoy being at such big events.”

“I’d rather be building something,” you nodded, to which David made a noise of agreement.

“Well, I can’t say you can just disagree with what Nina and Genya have said,” Tolya shrugged. “I have seen the two of them. They almost exist only for gatherings.”

“Y/n, you’ve worn something far too drab, did the others say nothing about it?” Nikolai said, looking at you.

You looked at your plain black suit, neatly pressed and creaseless. “What’s wrong with this? It’s my best suit!”

“For a funeral, maybe,” Interjected Tolya.

“Now you both are bullying me,” you frowned.

Nikolai went to his closet and pulled out a suit which looked far richer than yours, which had a white shirt, white pants, and a coat which had gold buttons all the way down the front. A thick gold border went down the length of it, and to finish it with a slightly feminine look, a delicate, spidery pattern of lace was embroidered onto the cuffs.

“Go on and try it,” Nikolai suggested, giving you the hanger on which it was kept and pushing you towards the changing screen.

You went in and tried it on, it fitting perfectly. The thick, almost kefta-like material of the coat felt nice under your fidgety fingertips, and the soft silk fabric of the shirt was welcoming on your skin. You’d never felt more confident than you did then, standing in a King’s attire.

“Let’s see how it looks, my friend!” Called out Tolya. You emerged from behind the screen, feeling your confidence give a little way for some amount of shyness at the attention.

“Damn,” Nikolai said. “I’d say Nina is going to be very happy.”

“She does say she loves me in blue,” you admitted, your hands already fidgeting with the hem of the coat, feeling the slightly prickly gold border against your fingertips.

“If you like the suit, you can keep it,” Nikolai grinned. “You look absolutely stunning in it. I have to say, you pull it off better than I do.”

You caught your brother’s eye, and he hummed in acknowledgment, nodding his head slightly. You both, even as children, had almost always communicated like this. With subtle hand gestures, eye movements, and nods.

After a little while of chatting, Nikolai exhaled sharply as he dusted off his coat sleeves. “Right, I will be on my way down to welcome the guests.”

“Hooray…” you said, with little enthusiasm. “That was sarcasm, by the way.”

“Well done,” Tolya patted you on the back. “It’s practically impossible to tell.”

You frowned, “Actually, I was being rather obvious about it…”

The giant laughed and led you out, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Never change, Y/n.”

“Um, I’ll go find Nina,” you nodded and walked off.

When your girlfriend saw you in the suit, her jaw dropped. As did everyone else’s in the room.

“I love how you look in blue,” grinned Nina as she ran her hands down your shoulders to your waist.

You smiled slightly and whispered a thank you, blushing a bright red.

“Guys, it��s nearly eight o clock, the guests should be arriving now,” admitted Nadia as she looked at the clock on the wall. She looked at both you and Nina, adding, “Now stop making moon eyes at each other and get your backsides downstairs.”

You nodded as Nina took you by the hand, leading you downstairs, while the others followed suit.

“I’m nervous,” you said.

“Don’t be,” giggled Nina. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I hope that wasn’t a joke…” you mumbled.

The ballroom filled up pretty fast, with the soft music of the band floating through the crowd. Men danced with their ladies in graceful two-steps, otherwise they whirled around in a fast-paced foxtrot. You stood at the end of the dance floor, watching closely while Nina and Nadia danced together, laughing hysterically.

There were too many people, though. Your skin crawled at the sudden thickness of the air, and you couldn’t really process the whole situation entirely. Sounds mashed together, the scent of perfume was choking, and the hum of people talking was getting annoying.

You were immediately broken out of your little freak-out when Nina caught your hand.

“Why is my gorgeous girlfriend standing here, alone, not dancing?” She asked, leaning up to kiss your lips.

“I…” you shook your head and whispered, “I’m just tired.”

“Hm…” she hummed in thought, trying to figure out what was wrong. “Do you mind telling me why you don’t want to dance with me?”

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you quietly replied, “I don’t know how to dance…”

Her eyes lit up as she held your face in her hands, and a smile tugged at her lips as she chuckled, “Was that all? You could’ve asked me to teach you!”

“I didn’t know how to ask…” you replied sheepishly.

She pulled you onto the dance floor where fewer people were swaying together, and she said, “Put your hand on my waist and hold the other,”

You did just so, and she smiled before guiding you towards doing a box step. You marvelled at how lovely a teacher she was, focusing solely on her voice.

“One, two, three, four, five, six,” you muttered under your breath. Nina laughed and squeezed your hand with hers, trying not to wince when you stepped on her toes with your hard leather shoes.

As the evening ended, you both collapsed into bed, tired for different reasons after having changed int more comfortable attire.

“You stepped more on my feet than you did the floor,” she chuckled.

“I will have you know that I was on beat,” you said. “You had it coming.”

“Well…you weren’t bad,” she nodded. “I must admit.”

You pulled her atop you and hugged her close, whispering, “Thank you for teaching me,”

“No problem, my love,” Nina replied, kissing your cheek. “It’s been a long night…” she sighed, sinking further into your touch.

“We should get some sleep,” you replied, tracing shapes on her back with your fingertips.

So there you both lay together, seeing comfort in each others embrace as the night went by, with its dark blue sky speckled with stars, and the wind blowing silently through the trees in the garden below.

———

I hope you enjoyed this one! Feel free to request!

[remussl0vers]

requesting guide

updated: 17.06.23

please make sure to read this before requesting anything — i'm hoping that you'll respect my boundaries on what am i comfortable with and with not writing.

MASTERLIST

I tend to curse often in my fics, and are usually comfortable with covering more serious topics, so make sure to check the content warning before hand. I always write warnings when I believe they're needed, but do let me know if you think something should be added!

also senders may request as many as they want <3

FORMS OF WRITING :

oneshot

imagine

headcanon

series

alphabet

I tend to write oneshots over 1000 words, so if you want feel free to specify if you want a long or short story.

CONTENT I WRITE :

fluff

angst

sensitive / triggering topics

gore

smut / spice

most tropes ( best at friends to lovers )

I'm pretty comfortable with writing sensitive topics as well as angst ( anyone who's read my works before will know that they're the things I write best ) however, if I'm not comfortable with the topic as a whole I will DM you, or possibly put it off for a while.

*If you have a writing prompt from somewhere as well, feel free to send it through !!

CHARACTERS :

male reader / ftm

gender neutral

genderfluid

original character

I do not write female readers / characters anymore. If there aren't specified pronouns then I will write it as a male character.

There are also some characters I only feel comfortable writing for with a male reader/character and vice versa, which I'll note who.

PAIRINGS :

love interests

platonic

family

polyamorous ships ; depends on the character

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE :

support of homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, racism, sexism, pedophilia, incest ; if they're mentioned in a request in terms of the character being bullied / abused ( in the past ) then i may write it but NOT explicitly, only a mention

a pairing against a character's canon sexuality

rape

pregnancy

female reader

anime

WHO I WRITE FOR :

DEAD BOY DETECTIVES :

charles rowland

edwin payne

monty

niko sasaki ( not romantic )

crystal palace ( not romantic )

DESCENDANTS :

ben beast

harry hook

carlos de vil

jay

mal bertha

evie grimhilde

LOCKWOOD & CO :

anthony lockwood

lucy carlyle

george karim

quill kipps ( friends / family only )

MARAUDERS :

remus lupin

sirius black

regulus black

james potter

lily evans ( not romantic )

evan rosier

barty crouch jr

marlene mckinnon ( not romantic )

dorcas meadows ( not romantic )

pandora lovegood ( not romantic )

mary mcdonald ( not romantic )

MARVEL :

peter parker / spiderman ( tom and andrew )

loki laufeyson

kate bishop

yelena belova ( not romantic )

steve rogers

bucky barnes

pietro maximoff

wanda maximoff

valkyrie ( not romantic )

natasha romanoff

tony stark ( not romantic )

gwen stacy ( emma stone )

gwen stacy ( atsv )

*marvel and particularly the mcu is a fandom i'm more comfortable with than most, so if there is a character not listed, then i may or may not write for them

NARNIA :

prince caspian

peter pevensie

edmund pevensie ( only during dawn treader )

SHADOW AND BONE / SIX OF CROWS :

kaz brekker

inej ghafa

jesper fahey

wylan van eck

nina zenik

alina starkov

nikolai lantsov

genya safin ( not romantic )

matthias helvar

STRANGER THINGS :

steve harrington

jonathon byers

max mayfield

robin buckley ( not romantic )

TEEN WOLF :

stiles stilinski ( *i will take most/all dylan obrien characters )

isaac lahey

scott mccall

liam dunbar ( not romantic )

allison argent

malia tate

lydia martin ( not romantic )

kira yukimura

derek hale

THE HUNGER GAMES :

finnick odair

peeta mellark

katniss everdeen

THE MAZE RUNNER :

newt

thomas

minho

X-MEN :

logan howlett

charles xavier ( james mcavoy )

jean grey

mystique

rogue

erik lehnsherr ( not romantic )

wade wilson / deadpool

kitty pryde

bobby drake

*FANDOMS COMING SOON : PJO, DISNEY, HANNIBAL

[heliads]

hi!!! i would like to request a zoya nazyalensky x female reader slightly based on mary's song by taylor swift! i don't know if you accept request like this so feel free to write it or not. i just think that the "i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried", "i was 16 when suddenly i wasn't that little girl you used to see" and especially "said you'd beat me up you were bigger than me but you never did" lines are sooooo zoya coded, so if you also just want to write something using this ones? idk, maybe y/n arrived in the palace a bit after zoya and was also a squaller just a little younger and they made zoya teach her a bit so they know each other since they were little and she has been a pain in zoya's ass since forever well, feel free to choose and write however you want to thanks!

'after all this time, you and i' - zoya nazyalensky

masterlist

Zoya is having a perfectly normal morning until someone finally tells her the news.

Normalcy is hard to come by at the Little Palace. It’s hard to come by when you live in Ravka, when you are a Grisha, when your closest friends are kings with demons and girls without all of their eyes. One’s even a Sun Saint. So yes, Zoya’s definition of normalcy is a little strained. Defining this morning as normal purely means that no one has yet lit any buildings on fire.

Even this tenuous thread of normalcy, though, will not stand forever. Zoya has hardly been awake for a couple of hours before all of that comes crashing down again. Luckily for her, it’s not even bad. It’s just different, that’s all. Zoya knows it’s going to be different the same way she knows when everything else changes around here:  gossip. The entire Little Palace is ablaze with it.

Zoya does her best to ignore the whispers as long as she can. Whatever new trouble has arrived to Os Alta will become her problem soon enough, but if she can push off the inevitable for as long as possible, that just means she won’t have to worry for quite as long. It’ll do her constantly furrowed brow some good, at least, if it can have a chance to rest every now and then.

She’s not too proud to admit that she’s definitely doubled back down corridors to avoid large crowds of over excited Grisha, nor that every time she sees someone who looks like they’re just bursting with information that must get out at once, she comes up with some nonexistent task that she just has to get to. If it’s a serious threat, someone would have come for her already. Zoya doesn’t want to hear about run-of-the mill calamities. Only the finest of disasters can be allowed to ruin her morning.

Genya Safin, in the end, is the one who has to break the news. This is also possibly because Genya is the bravest, or just the only Grisha around save for perhaps David who is capable of talking to Zoya without wishing the ground would open up beneath their feet and swallow them whole. Given that David is likely holed up in his lab somewhere, tinkering on gadgets and gizmos until Genya drags him off to meals, Genya herself is the one who must bear this morning’s news.

Even Zoya’s friendship with the Tailor cannot protect Genya from receiving a few haughty stares. Genya emerges from the shadow of a room as Zoya walks past, matching Zoya’s strides within moments despite Zoya’s repeated attempts to speed up and shake her.

At last, Zoya sighs and gives in, slowing down enough that they can walk comfortably. “What’s gone wrong?”

Genya laughs. “Couldn’t I just be talking to you because I felt like it?”

Zoya arches a cold brow. “Are you?”

“Partially,” Genya admits. “Also, there’s something you need to know.”

“Figures,” Zoya says. “What disaster do I have to avert now?”

“No disaster, actually,” Genya answers her. “I just wanted you to know that an old friend will be returning to the Little Palace.”

Zoya eyes her cautiously. “I don’t have old friends. Everyone I know is either here or dead.”

Genya closes her eyes faintly as if searching for patience within the confines of her mind. “Zoya, I know you’re never a sweetheart, but would it kill you to practice optimism every now and then? Just one day without making me listen to something incredibly depressing or cutting, that’s all I ask.”

“You ask for too much,” Zoya says crisply. “So? Who’s coming?”

Genya manages a smile in the midst of her consternation. “Y/N L/N.”

Zoya Nazyalensky is not much given to surprise. She has done her best to remove that unreliable element from her very existence. On the battlefield, you can’t afford for something to take you by surprise. Everything should be expected. If there is something Zoya does not understand, a battle plan or tactical maneuver she doesn’t anticipate, countless lives will be lost. Shock is simply not in her vocabulary.

However, all this being true, upon hearing that Y/N L/N will be back in Os Alta, back here, Zoya actually stops dead in her tracks in surprise. She breathes in and out deliberately, trying to regain her footing. “Y/N?” She asks at last. “You’re sure of it?”

“Positive,” Genya chirps. “I got word from her just this morning. She’ll be arriving later today with news from Shu Han.”

Zoya shakes her head slowly. “That’s impossible. I thought the crown sent her out there for five years. Has something gone wrong? Why is she back early?”

“She’s not back early,” Genya says softly. “It’s been five years to the day. Her assignment is up and so she’s coming home. You’re not unhappy, are you? I thought you’d be pleased to hear the news.”

“I am pleased,” Zoya says, but her mind is already a whirlwind of thoughts and memories, so it’s difficult to focus on the conversation anymore. All of the space in her brain has been taken up with that one idea, that one confounded, blessed, insane idea, that after all of this time, Y/N L/N might be back in Os Alta. Back with Zoya. Back home.

It’s been a long time since Zoya saw Y/N. Well, five years, if one wanted to be specific. Zoya usually likes dealing with specifics. Keeping to the rigid lines and absolute details is the only way that a person can guarantee they will be right. With Y/N, though, Zoya for some reason has difficulty sticking to the impartial. Perhaps it’s just because it’s been so long. Yes, that must be it.

Zoya met Y/N many years ago. Just about when Zoya arrived at the Little Palace, actually, they were both children. Zoya was first and Y/N was second, but only by a handful of months. They were only off in age by a year or two, but Zoya, being older and far more of a perfectionist, had convinced herself that she was infinitely more reasonable and advanced.

Both of them being Squallers, Zoya saw Y/N the most out of anyone in the Little Palace, or so it seemed. The younger girl was always hanging off of Zoya’s shoulder, talking her ear off or following her around from class to class. It used to drive Zoya mad during the early days, but over time she’d gotten used to it. It was a common sight back in the first years; there was Zoya, striding briskly across the grounds of the Little Palace, and then her shadow in a matching blue kefta, Y/N, never far behind.

During the first few years, Zoya had done everything she could to get rid of the girl. She’d threatened to use her gifts to drop her off of the tallest tower around, or beat her up in one of Botkin’s rigorous combat classes, but no matter what Zoya said, Y/N never listened. She’d just show up the next day or the next hour, beaming cheekily, and utterly, utterly immune to any of Zoya’s snarls or poor temper.

That was the beginning, though, and then it had been sort of nice to have someone always there for her. Zoya wasn’t immune to the idolatry of being older and more advanced in her practice of the Small Science. By the end of it, she was kind of fond of it, actually. Having Y/N there beside her was something to be taken for granted, a promise that would never be broken.

Just when she was starting to appreciate it, word got out that the crown was sending Y/N away to Shu Han for five years. Five. Zoya was immediately horror struck, then pretended that she was not affected at all, because why would she be hurt by something like this? Why would she find herself weeping silent tears at midnight because of the thought that where there was once a smiling, laughing girl, someone who had seen Zoya for years and genuinely still wanted her, there would soon be absolute silence?

Zoya had attempted to brush it all off like it didn’t matter. She hadn’t even hugged Y/N goodbye like the other girls, trying too hard to act stiff and unapproachable. She’d been there, though, when the horses rode off. She’d waved. She’d felt her whole world collapse.

Zoya had found a way to carry on, though, and over time she had convinced herself that she was just being nostalgic, that’s all. Goodbyes are always difficult when you’re a child. You think parting from someone once means you’ll lose them forever. It’s true sometimes, but not always. Sometimes, they come back to you. Sometimes, they sneak up on you one busy morning, and you’re left wondering how to open up their place in your heart after you locked it off for so long.

Zoya bids Genya a hasty goodbye before retreating back to her room again. She ends up pacing for quite a long time indeed, running through all manner of scenarios before deciding that she'd been thinking too much about the whole affair and needs to give it a rest. Y/N will come back. She’ll have plenty to talk about and plenty of people to talk to. It will be fine.

Zoya hears a general clamor erupt from outside the hall. The horses are here now, apparently, and everyone’s just dying to see their favorite girl after such a long absence. After taking one last moment to contain herself, Zoya steps out into the chaos, joining the other Grisha in streaming out the doors and into the bright sunshine of the afternoon.

There are too many people to get a good view of anything, so Zoya hangs back near the entrance of the Little Palace. If there are horses and riders, they’ve been swarmed by the other Grisha vying for stories and hellos and everything else. Zoya bides her time and watches everyone else go to and fro as if their lives depend on it.

There’s a slow, vague parting of the crowd as people shift to accommodate movement in the mass. Zoya tilts her head to the side, trying to see but also trying not to look as if she’s trying too hard. The grooms are moving away first, leading exhausted horses back to the stable. There are the soldiers that were sent to protect such a valuable negotiator, but then–

Someone shouts that she’s coming around the bend now, and Zoya shades her eyes with her hand to see properly, but she can’t find the girl anywhere. Zoya knows what Y/N looks like, remember it from when she was a child, but the only person there is a young woman who’s too tall and bright to be–

Oh, Saints. Oh, no. She’s beautiful.

It’s foolish to be thinking like this. More foolish still to watch the woman who must be Y/N striding confidently across the courtyard of the Little Palace, heels striking the cobblestones evenly. The blue of her kefta compliments her eyes perfectly, which flash with mischief as Y/N strolls up to Zoya and says briskly, “If it isn’t my favorite Squaller. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Nazyalensky?”

Zoya would like to know when they reverted to a last name basis, but more than that, she’d like to know why she feels incapable of speaking without stammering. “Five years to be precise, L/N.”

Y/N’s face splits in a broad grin. “Oh, don’t be cold. I know you’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

Again, Zoya is struck by what five years can do to a girl. Before, Y/N had never dared to be so open. She never would have insisted on what Zoya could or could not feel, but now, she does it easily. She’s not that little girl Zoya used to see around the Little Palace grounds anymore, that’s for certain.

(Privately, Zoya wonders if that might not be for the best. If there might not be a reason Zoya wants her to be bright and tall and free-willed. If there is not something she can get out of the girl now that she hadn’t seen when they were both kids.)

“I did,” Zoya admits, surprising not just herself but likely both of them.

Y/N wavers on her heels for a second, evidently not expecting raw honesty from Zoya this early into her return, but then her smile returns in full force and she wraps her arms around Zoya in a warm embrace. “I missed you too,” she whispers against Zoya’s hair, and perhaps it’s just wishful thinking but Zoya swears the voice is more sly than it ever has been before.

Zoya can do sly, though. Zoya can handle conniving and planning and desperate secrets. So, she pulls away slowly, then slips an arm around Y/N’s waist, casually tugging her closer as they walk back to the Little Palace.

“You’re different,” Zoya says casually. “It’s good for you, I think. You had better tell me all about it.”

A returning grin from Y/N, and Zoya knows at last that they’re on the same page. Time can change us, yes. But it can also return us to the people we were always meant to be. For once, Zoya thinks that growing up might not always be a bad thing.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @budugu, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[spaceagebachelormann]

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!

HOW TO REQUEST

— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it

— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?

— requests can be send through inbox or dms, but inbox is heavily encouraged!

— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS “_____ x reader fluff” WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION!! GIVE ME A PLOT LINE!!

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

platonic

romantic

familial

any gender x any gender

headcanons

poly relationships

sensitive topics

x reader

ships (canon or non-canon, so long as it’s not problematic)

i. i WILL write cheating, but not if a character is going it to the reader/another character. i’ll make someone comforting another person after being cheated on, but i won’t write finnick odair cheating on someone

same thing ^^ goes for homophobic, transphobic, ableist topics like that, and. well i guess the same goes for abuse?

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

smut (i’m 14)

yandere

incest

student x teacher

canonically gay character (ex: wylan van eck) x fem!reader for romantic requests

canonically lesbian character x male!reader for romantic requests

songfics (nothing against them, i just don’t know how!!)

things about ocs

ship fics

character list (more to come!)

❍ = easiest characters to write for

bolded — favourite characters to write for

KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES

❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis

RIORDANVERSE

❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry

p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!

HARRY POTTER

harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans

RIDE THE CYCLONE

ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood

SHADOW AND BONE

❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this

SIX OF CROWS

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar

THE OUTSIDERS

ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston

THE HUNGER GAMES

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna

IT (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey

THE LAND OF STORIES

❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell

SCOOBY DOO

daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley

LITTLE WOMEN

❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie

A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER

pippa fitz-amobi, ❍ ravi singh, naomi ward, ❍ cara ward, connor reynolds, ❍ jamie reynolds, nat da silva

THE MIGHTY DUCKS

❍ charlie conway, adam banks, ❍ lester averman, guy germaine, ❍ connie moreau, julie gaffney, ❍ ken wu, dean portman, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson, ❍ fulton reed

DRACULA

dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris

FRANKENSTEIN

victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

MONSTER HIGH

gotta update this one guys,,,

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark

THE POWERPUFF GIRLS

❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

DAVID BOWIE

❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie

SWEENEY TODD

❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna

THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

HAIRSPRAY

❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin

MISC. CHARACTERS

sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian

[thepoetsmanuscript13]

❝To punish that great crime Minerva changed the Gorgon’s splendid hair to serpents horrible. And now to strike her foes with fear, she wears upon her breast those awful vipers—creatures of her rage.❞ ―Ovid's Metamorphoses

list of fandoms and characters i write for

➳ below the cut, you’ll find all the characters from all the fandoms i will accept requests ➳ there are other fandoms/characters i can write for but probably wouldn’t unless i feel inspired ➳ more characters can be added in the future! ➳ feel free to ask about specific characters/fandoms that don’t appear here ➳ requests are open

the chronicles of narnia

peter pevensie edmund pevensie susan pevensie (x female reader only) caspian

the hunger games

finnick odair katniss everdeen peeta mellark johanna mason (x female reader only) cato hadley

9-1-1

evan buckley

grishaverse

nikolai lantsov alina starkov zoya nazyalensky genya safin tamar kir-bataar (x female reader only)

bridgerton

anthony bridgerton

marvel

steve rogers

the last of us

ellie williams (x female reader only) joel miller

[elleclairez]

The lost Morozova - Nikolai Lantsov x OC x Fedyor Kaminsky

« Everything will be fine Alina. You go to Noviy Zem, and I will fo to Ketterdam so that the Darkling cannot track us. I do hope with all my heart that this isn’t a goodbye and that we will see each other soon. If not I just wish to say thank you, Alina, for being my friend and trusting me and thank you, Mal, for being there for her. I hope to see you both again one day”

Those were the last word Elizaveta has said to her dear friend Alina Starkov before the two had to part ways in order to hide from the Darkling.

The young Grisha did not know how long has it been since she saw the young Summoner or since she left the place she once called home, the Little Palace. Weeks? Months? She wasn’t quite sure. After spending quite some time with Alina on the run and then Mal, the three decided it would be best to part ways so that the Darkling couldn’t find them. Or at least it would take him longer to do it. 

Before not so long, Elizabeth Zimaevsky had everything she could want. Her parents were safely living in Noviy Zem, she was a well respected Heartender, right hand to the Darkling and was engaged to the nicest man in the world, Fedyor Kaminsky. And all of this at the young age of 17.

Now she had nothing. She was a deserter, fled her home to save her newly found friend from the man that she considered once a brother, her family must think that she is dead and Fedyor might hate her or worse, has been killed by the Darkling for her betrayal. The latter idea scared her the most.

Her relationship with Fedyor was so easy but complicated at the same time. While Elizaveta wanted power, to be in a high position, Fedyor wanted peace and a calm life. The two were opposites even though both were heartenders and both wanted to help people, just in very different ways.

But the biggest problem was that while Fedyor loved Elizaveta with all his heart and wanted nothing more than to marry her, the young woman loved the man very much, but she always felt like something was missing, ans yet she still agreed to marry him thinking that the gap in her heart would be filled with time.

Back to the present.

Surviving has been difficult especially since she was so used to just demand whatever she needed, and it would be brought to her. But then again, could you blame her, she spent her entire life (well since she was 6) living at the Little Palace which meant that she never had to ask for anything. 

But luckily thanks to her training with Botkin she knew how to be sneaky and to blend in a crowd. She learned to survive on stolen money or anything of some worth. 

But the young woman had one rule : never steal from the ones in need but only from the rich ones like dukes, merchants, privateers...

On one morning Elizaveta left the tiny room that she was renting to steal some money since her purse was getting too light to her liking.

While walking through the port she saw many people from all around the world. Kerch merchants, Zemeni ambassadors on their way to the capital, Shu travellers. 

Two caught her eyes. Siblings by the looks, the first, a man, huge as a mountain and the other, a woman, smaller but Elizaveta knew better, that woman could take down an army if she wanted to. The Heartender understood that those people weren’t to be messed around.

Seeing the two siblings messing with each other reminded her of her old life in the Little Palace. Her teachers that she respected and saw as parents figures, in all honesty she really didn’t know who she’d be without Botkin’s training or Baghra’s guidance. She worried that the Darkling wouldn’t be too merciful towards his mother after finding out that she let the Sun Summoner and the Second Army’s second most important person go. Elizaveta shuddered at the idea of what he could do to her.

She also missed her friends. Genya with whom she could spend hours talking in her chambers, Zoya with whom she loved to travel on missions and have friendly sarcastic feuds that could go for hours, David with whom she would spend hours away in the library in utter silence and yet if you’d ask the two would their dearest friend was the two would say each other’s name in a heartbeat. 

And then there was Fedyor.

Elizaveta didn’t spend one day without thinking about the man. Would it be remembering how they’d sneak into masquerade balls and spend the night away dancing and pretending that on the next morning they wouldn’t have to be soldiers again instead of a young couple.

The two grew up together, even with their 3-year difference, the two were inseparable since Elizaveta was 10  and no one could keep them apart since that day. The friendship then turned into romance on her 14th birthday and then into an engagement just a few months ago on the woman’s 17th birthday.

The Heartender remember the last time she saw him. It was at the royal ball, Fedyor was to be sent away, and so they spend the evening dancing together and while the man was thinking that their last kiss was a “see you soon” one, Elizaveta wasn’t sure if she’d ever see him again.

The same thoughts troubled her mind all the time.

Did he hate her ? Did the à Darkling kill him ? Did he run away ? The woman didn’t know and that lack of information killed her. Yes Fedyor was a orpichnik but unlike Ivan, the Darkling didn’t favour him and wasn’t happy when he heard that his right hand chose him as her future husband. The Darkling always said that she was meant for greater things than marrying “a simple commoner”. Why did he say that? She didn’t know. She never understood why the powerful man trusted her, even cared for her the same way Baghra seemed to care for her as she was family.

Her thoughts were quickly distracted when a man caught her eyes.

He was quite handsome but something felt wrong about him. His red hair seemed out of place, his nose too broken, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from looking at him.

She stopped her thoughts from wandering too far and focused on his attire. By the clothes Elizaveta guessed that the man was clearly a pirate which meant that he had money. Which meant that he was the perfect victim?

Sneakily like a cat, she got close to the man and waited for the right moment to snatch his wallet that was in his coat pocket. The right moment came when someone bumped into him and that is when the woman went into action, she took the wallet from his coat and walked away as calmly as she could while blending in the crowd to not seem suspicious.

That was easier than she thought, way too easy even. A good pirate would have caught her the second she got close to him.

A few minutes later, Elizaveta was happily counting the money that she stole, walking back to the little building where she was living, tiredness taking over her.

Not using her powers can be dangerous for a Grisha, you become more tired, the natural glow that all Grisha disappear and the natural beauty that the Grisha have become almost invisible. Without using her power Elizaveta looked to pale, her hair didn’t shine as they used, she looked almost sickly and honestly she felt as terribly as she looked. Her head was pounding, and she knew that she needed to lay down as soon as she could before she fainted on the street.

But suddenly someone yanked the young Heartender in an alleyway and pushed her into a wall, hands on both her arms holding her in place. Before she could even react or scream a sweet, voice whispered in her ear.

“As much as I respect anyone who can outsmart and steal from me, I would love for you to give me back what’s mine, golubushka.” The voice sweet as honey but strong as steel at the same time, it held a power that it felt like a storm crashing over the woman. Never was Elizaveta caught, and she didn’t know what to do. Using her powers could be dangerous since people were looking for her, but she knew that she couldn’t fight him hand to hand, she was too weak right now and the hit that her head took wasn’t helping.

The man moved his face from her ear and looked at her face.

He was even more handsome up close but again something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t name what was wrong, but she could definitely tell that the man’s face hid a secret. His eyes were what caught her attention the most. They were a strange muddy green and again she felt like those eyes didn’t belong on that face. They were beautiful Weirdly enough Elizaveta didn’t what she wanted to do more, punch the man and run or kiss him. What was wrong with her?! That hit on the head must have been way too hard on her because otherwise she wouldn’t be thinking such things. 

For a second the man’s eyes travelled under her face, to her neck, and suddenly the man stilled, his right hand let go of her arm and took the necklace that was around her neck. She didn’t understand what was going on. Surely as a pirate the man must have seen plenty of jewels so why would an old simple necklace make him stop threatening her, or whatever he was doing. 

But before she could do anything the man spoke again. And the words that came of his mouth were certainly unexpected. 

“Elizaveta?” 

She wanted to answer. Ask her how did he know her but suddenly the world around became all dark, and she could only feel herself falling but two strong arms caught her in time. 

[mrsbrekkers]

could you do a jesper x reader where the reader is more on the emotionless side and is always lowkey angry at the world and jesper is always happy/flirty?? I love that type of trope sm!!!

first request yEEEEE. i got this during work and practically jumped up and down 1; because i love jesper. 2; i actually didn’t think people who request. 3; because it gave me something to do when i got home lol

i hope this is up to what you were looking for! i didn’t quite have an idea for backstory in terms of your request, so i left that up to interpretation. plus, i haven’t written jesper before +++ this is the first one-shot i’ve written IN AGES

pairings; jesper x reader / kaz x inej + nina x matthias ( mentioned )

reader is non-gender specific because jesper is a bi-con and i want this to be seen as either female, male, non-binary pals, whatever one identifies with!

warnings; like one or two swearwords? guns, the usual soc stuff? and not edited in terms of grammar, etc.

word count; 2026 ( p proud mom here )

one shot under cut!

BOATS WERE MADE TO CREATE LAUGHS

The world was cruel.

Anyone who’d lived long enough in the barrel knew that, and still, somehow, Jesper Fahey managed to be as happy as he was. Whether it be after he’d lost all of his money gambling, or during a job gone wrong? Jesper Fahey never seemed all too affected by the barrel and the shit it’d throw at The Crows. Maybe it was because he was good at hiding his affliction. Maybe he’d become used to it, and simply decided to have a better onlook when it came to such affliction. Whatever it was?

The same couldn’t be said for Y/N.

Becoming used to the affliction wasn’t in the cards for them, but hiding it was. Keeping a stoic face, always observant. There was rarely a smile on their face. Inej had coined the stoic look as ‘The Brekker Stare’. Kaz had started it, but slowly Y/N grew to use it as well. It was easy to be emotionless. It made one more equipped to face danger and problems that arose. Or, that’s what Y/N’s excuse was when they were teased about using ‘The Brekker Stare’.

Missions were always the hardest to keep that stoic look on. Especially when paired with Jesper. It wasn’t that Y/N hated the boy, quite the opposite actually. They admired his ability to stay so joyful in a place such as the barrel. Sometimes they wished it was as easy as Jesper made it seem. Maybe that’s why they’d rather be paired with Nina, but that spot was reserved for Matthias - courtesy of Kaz Brekker and his secret want for them to work out their relationship. Inej was a good choice for a partner, but she worked either alone, or with Kaz. Rarely with anyone outside of those choices. Wylan made a good partner too, but Kaz and his reasons.

That left Jesper and Y/N.

The mission seemed simple enough - sneak into The Emerald Palace to gather information on what Rollin’s next move was. Eavesdropping seemed easy enough for The Crows. Inej was doing what she did best: moved quietly. Wylan posed as a new waiter, his hair tailored by Nina to appear brunette. Nina and Matthais acted as a drunk couple at the gambling table a few away from Jesper and Y/N.

“This is going to go horribly wrong,” Y/N spoke as they’d gone over the plan numerous times in their head. One, how would the Dime Lions not notice who they were? Nina was a good enough tailor, but she wasn’t a phenomenal one. Certainly not Genya Safin phenomenal. She was a heartrender after all. Two, they may not even receive the information they’d need. Three, if they were caught, that information would be useless.

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t be so down about the world. It hasn’t killed us yet,” Jesper responded. To which, Y/N simply gave a glare. Surely it hadn’t killed them, but it’d killed enough people for them to be mad at it.

“It won’t go horribly wrong as long as the two of you don’t bicker like children,” Kaz said with a wave of his cane between the two.

Gambling, a wonderful way to gather information. Whatever Kaz’s reasons for this mission was, Y/N wasn’t going to question it. They’d rather do their job, get their cut, and then return to the Slat. It was easier that way, but Jesper decided it wasn’t easier that way tonight.

“I’m raising, what do you think darling?” Jesper asked, his eyes glancing up at Y/N, who sat on his leg. 

“Raising with a hand like that?” Y/N asked out loud, raising an eyebrow. “You’re asking to be stung, dear.” They were bluffing, but doing a beautiful job so. Jesper had a royal flush - which in terms of luck tonight, was the best he’d had.

“Oh come on darling, it’s a wonderful hand. Money grabber at that!” Jesper said, his lips pouting out. Y/N would never understand how men could fall for such an act, but it seemed they didn’t have brains.

The men around them smirked, amused. They seemed to think they’d won, and with everyone raising and placing their hands down, Jesper chuckled. It was easy to play drunk men, and with Wylan continuously supplying them with alcohol, even easier to gain information.

“Boss is going to kill me,” one of the men murmured, making Y/N’s eyes shoot over in their direction. Their attention seemed taken then, eyes narrowing. Glancing down at Jesper, they nodded in the direction of the man.

“And why would that be?” One of the drunk men across the table asked. It seemed the men would do the work for Jesper and Y/N.

Easier for us, Y/N thought. Indeed it was. Words spilled from the men’s mouths, and before they’d known it, they learned of a job Rollins planned to have lined up. It was going well, until one of the men decided to become handsy with Y/N.

“A pretty one you’ve got here,” he spoke, causing Y/N to scowl. Pretty is not what you’ll be thinking when I break your nose. “Mind if I have a go at them?” The man added his hands finding their place on Y/N’s waist. Before Jesper could step in, Y/N’s leg lifted, the man doubling over at the pain that seared through his groin. 

“Touch me again, I dare you.” The commotion had caused men a part of the Dime Lions to step forward from around the room. Realizing they’d been compromised, Y/N glanced over at Wylan, nodding and then grabbing Jesper’s arm. “Close your eyes,” They said before a flash bomb went off, the room ringing as the two exited the back door, Kaz waiting mere feet away from it.

“Remember what I mentioned about not bickering like children?!” Kaz asked, rolling his eyes. Maybe if you didn’t pair us together, Brekker, we wouldn’t bicker. But Y/N knew better than to say that outloud to their boss. It was asking to be punished in some out of the box, Kaz Brekker way.

“The men got all handsy with Y/N! I must say that was rather attractive back there! Showing them who’s a badass!” Jesper yelled across the commotion as they began to run down the alleys of the barrel, leaving Kaz behind with Inej who’d jumped down as silent as the night. How she did that, Jesper and Y/N would contemplate together.

“This is not the time Jesper!” Y/N yelled, rolling their eyes.

“Oh come on, no flirting with me?!” 

“Jesper, we’re being chased by Dime Lions wanting to murder us, no I’m not going to flirt with you right now!” Then Y/N slipped down one of the alleyways, pulling Jesper’s arm. Coming to the edge of the canal Kaz had prepped with a boat in case this happened, Y/N jumped down into the boat with Jesper.

“Go,” Y/N said to Rotty who had been waiting. Then down the canal they were going. Out of breath and going down the canal, the trio rest in silence for a few moments.

“For a mission gone wrong, I’d say that was pretty successful,” Jesper said, showing the money he’d managed to grab from the table before the two of them had to run.

“Money? That’s what you call successful? It’ll be gone by tomorrow night at the Crow Club, we both know that,” Y/N said, huffing as they became situated on the boat. It was small, but it made do for the three on the boat. Their face held the usual stoic look, but just the smallest bit of anger broke through.

“The Brekker Stare is happening again, but is that . . . is that anger I see?” Jesper teased his face falling into the same look Y/N currently held.

“Jesper, this isn’t funny. We almost just died. Kaz is going to kill us. Are none of the consequences we’re going to experience angering you?” Y/N asked, their stoic face falling into semi panic. They were so going to experience the wrath of Kaz Brekker when they were safe and back at the Slat. Or the Crow Club. Whichever one they were found at first.

“All the information we just gathered? Is worth nothing because Rollins knows we were there. What was the one thing we were all supposed to manage?” Y/N wasn’t sure who they were mad at more. The man at the Emerald Palace was one of the people they were mad at, but also Jesper for always somehow, even after almost dying, being so flirty and happy. They’d never understand it.

“Getting out silently,” Jesper huffed. He knew Y/N was right, but he couldn’t help himself. Having a crush on your mission partner never made things easy. “But come on, you got to see me looking this dashing tonight,” he reminded, winking.

“I’m really beginning to think you don’t care for your life,” Y/N said with a small shake of their head, just the smallest laugh leaving their lips. Guns and all, Jesper still seemed oblivious to the fact that they’d just been shot at and found out by Pekka Rollins.

“Was that a laugh?” Jesper said with wide eyes, smirking.

Dammit. “No, no it wasn’t,” Y/N said, composing them-self.

“Oh yes it was, and it was angelic. You should laugh more. Do less of The Brekker Stare and more of The Y/N Angelic Laugh,” Jesper deemed, smiling like an idiot.

Then they couldn’t hold it in, and Y/N let the laugh completely consume them. “The Y/N Angelic Laugh? You’ve already coined it?”

“Indeed I did, and I will be taking full credit for this one. Inej took The Brekker Stare from me. This one is coined by me, Jesper Fahey, from this day, until the last.” Jesper had spent years trying to make Y/N laugh, and he’d almost deemed it impossible - but he always had his ways, and they finally had worked.

“I think I’ll be asking Inej to recoin it, thank you,” Y/N spoke as they exited the boat, thanking Rotty. They tossed their green outfit off, their usual black attire hidden underneath. Unaware of Jesper behind them, checking them out per usual.

“I think not. Inej wouldn’t believe I even made you laugh. Do you want her to know you can show emotion that isn’t being angry or pessimistic?” Jesper asked, standing from the boat. He loved teasing Y/N. It was among his favorite pastimes.

Y/N simply rolled their eyes, kicking Jesper in the shin. “I’ll have you know that the girls have seen me laugh.”

“Why don’t I believe that for a second?” Jesper asked. Because it isn’t entirely true. But why would Y/N give Jesper that satisfaction? They weren’t sure. Maybe it was because for once, they were experiencing feelings they hadn’t in a while.

“Because, the girls wouldn’t tell you if I had laughed.”

“No, no. Nina tells us everything. She tells us when Matthias checks her out, how Kaz does his little glance at Inej every time we’re about to leave for a mission, about how I stare at you for too long. I think she’d tell me about you laughing,” Jesper declared, making Y/N stop in their tracks.

He was good. They’d give him that. “You stare at me for too long?” Y/N turned their boot skidding along the wet concrete of Ketterdam.

“Oh yes, Nina declares it’s because I find you attractive, which I do, but you already knew that,” Jesper said, shrugging.

“Hmm,” Y/N simply said, their lips quirking for a moment in thought. “Fine, they haven’t heard me laugh,” and that was the only thing Y/N said before turning back to walk towards the Crow Club, leaving Jesper there with a dorkish grin.

As Jesper began to follow, he chuckled. “I made Y/N L/N laugh,” and with a skip and pull of his coat in victory, he declared he’d hear that sound again.

[auraofbrightgreenandgold]

Genya Safin x Corporalki!Reader

No spoilers except in author’s note

a/n: so I decided to just really dive back into writing (fanfics, my own personal writing has flourished while I stepped away) with the things I truly want to write. I haven’t seen enough x reader fics with Genya and I thought it would be cool to write her with a Corporalnik because of the whole not-having-a-red-kefta thing. You can choose if you want to be a Healer or Heartrender. This takes place around the time Alina comes to the palace but before she finds out (spoilers) about Genya working for the Darkling. The reader also doesn’t know about it. Also, there are some pet names that are used but because of how Ravkan works (and yes, I have the wiki for the language up right in front of me) it is technically a female reader but if you ignore the pet names it’s gender neutral. I will do another one and exchange the feminine terms with masculine ones.  Aura <3

Genya walked into your room, sighing as the door closed behind her. 

“Rough day, love?” 

“You have no idea.” She stepped further into the room and walked up behind where you sat at the desk, wrapping her arms around your neck. “What are you doing, moya milaya?” 

You leaned back, looking up at her and giving her a smile. “There was a fight, some Heartrender killed a Squaller, and I’m the one who has to do paperwork for it.” You took note of her furrowed brows. “Headache, lapushka?” She nodded and you pushed your chair back, gesturing for her to sit in front of you. 

She did as told, kneeling in front of you and placing her head in your lap. “You really don’t have to, (Y/N).”

You merely hummed, twirling a strand of her bright hair around your finger. “You were right, Gen, the red kefta does clash with your hair.” Genya laughed, and you dropped her hair to hold her head in your hands, using your science to eliminate the pain pounding in her head. “Better?”

She nodded, but remained seated in front of you, grinning widely when you smoothed your hand over her hair. “Thank you.” 

“How is Alina doing?”

Genya shrugged. “I think she’s okay. She hasn’t gotten a letter back from her friend.”

“Otkazat'sya?” At Genya’s nod you hummed again. “No surprise there. All of them fear us.” You finally took note of how tired Genya seemed. “Why don’t you go get into bed and I will join you in a moment.” She nodded, standing and pressing a kiss to your temple before walking away. You quickly finished your work before shedding your red kefta and sliding under the blankets. 

Genya glanced up, moving closer to you, throwing one of her legs over yours, prompting you to grab it and use it to pull her closer. She nosed your neck, placing random kisses on the skin there. “I missed you today, you got up before me.”

“Apologies, my lady, I will be sure to be late for work tomorrow.” 

She smacked your chest, causing you to chuckle. “I love you, milaya.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Sleep.” 

Word count: 363

[swanimagines]

I'm starting my log off session/a battery loading session thing today and will be completely away from Tumblr for 2 weeks (as in I'm not logged in and only see my blog as others see it), there are 10 (SaB) pieces in queue and they will start posting on Thursday, last one will post on 3rd of July. (All of them are posting 2am EEST because that seems to be the best time, thank you for the tip @maybanksslut)

I most likely will not start writing & posting new stuff when I'm back, but I need to catch my breath and think things through. By logging off I mean that I won't be answering to asks, messages or replies during these 2 weeks and likely won't even see any of them before I'm back. But I'm sure I'd be smiling ear to ear if I received any asks, messages or nice comments on any of my fics and read them all when I log back in Tumblr, just a 😉

If you don't know why I need to step back for a bit, read this post. (Trigger warning: a parent's death)

I'll see you either on Sunday 4th of July or Monday 5th of July if anything doesn't happen before that. Or if something happens, I'll make sure to inform you as soon as I can.

If someone wants to see what's up with me during me being logged out and see if I'm fine, I try to update stuff from my days to my Instagram stories and rarely my feed to keep my mind off from bad stuff: joutsentytto, feel free to follow if you want, I'll follow you back if we're friends.

These are the requests which are coming during my absence, in order of publishing:

@imabirrrb: 2/5 B73 + A50 for Kaz Brekker?

Anon: May I please request a song prompt for Genya Safin + Reflection by Christina Aguilera? thank you!!!

Anon: Hey love! I was wondering if you could do an Alina Starkov imagine where the reader and her sneak around the Little Palace together at night? Maybe they sneak some food and sit on a roof?

Anon: Hi Jenni! Could you write headcanons about being a Grisha and a member of the crows, coming with them across the fold in their job to kidnap Alina? Thank you so much if you do! 💜

Anon: hiiii!! can you do A40. “You really need a haircut.” with Kaz please??

@thereagles: Hi Jenni, hope you're doing good! I've really been loving your S+B content so was hoping I could request B24 with Jesper if you feel you could write it. As always, love your work and have a lovely day 💕

@dancingwith-sunflowers: Hi Jenni! I was wondering if you could do a Matthias Helvar x female reader with the prompts #D12 + #D17, please? 😘 Thanks so much!!! 💕

Anon: Hello can I request a songfic for Aleksander morozova pretty please? Favourite crime by Olivia Rodrigo

@imabirrrb: 4/5 D18 + D17 for Kaz Brekker?

Anon: Hi! Could you possibly write some headcanons for dating Kaz (I think he'd be the type of guy to tease the reader for their height, also very protective & secretly a softie). I'd love to hear your ideas :D

[steponmeinejghafa]

Beautiful Girl in a Broken World (TW)

Summary: All your life you have felt powerless against Aleksander. But when he takes things too far, you finally find your voice to stand up to him. Genya attempts to belittle herself, but you don't let her.

Genya Safin x fem!morozov!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Crying, fighting, mentions of sexual abuse, toxic parent.

Note: You're adopted, so it doesn't get weird, I swear. And I don’t remember the catacombs scene word for word, so bear with me :’) also, y/n has a certain amount of selective mutism.

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

Ever since you were a child, you had been a very quiet, gentle, and agreeable person. So quiet that you could slip out of a room of three people, unnoticed. So agreeable that you would commit a crime for anyone who you held close to your heart. So gentle that you couldn't bear to even think of raising your voice at anyone who made you feel bad.

Aleksander, your father, took these abilities for granted the very moment he realised how you could benefit him.

He kept you like a secret weapon, unleashing you carefully, using your abilities to his advantage. He gifted you to the Queen as her aide and deputy lady-in-waiting. He was twisted enough to use you as bait for the King, allowing him to do as he pleased with you as long as it meant Aleksander would remain General.

You couldn't say no as his rotten lips went over your skin, you couldn't push him away, because fear for yourself froze you in place, and fear of angering your father made all reason simply vanish from your mind.

Naturally, when the King tired of you, your convoluted father gave him Genya.

Sweet Genya who talked to you every day after you both helped the Queen prepare for her evenings. Kind Genya who always made sure you weren't left alone at mealtimes or during lessons. Beautiful Genya who had all the boys after her, because of her wavy auburn hair and unique amber eyes.

You were furious to find out what he had done. Till date you can remember the white-hot fury that had coursed through your veins as Genya arrived sobbing at your room the first night the King had forced himself on her. The way your skin prickled, your body threatening to unleash unforgiving darkness upon the land as you saw the blood on her thighs and clothes.

However, you still felt guilty about how you couldn't confront Aleksander about it. Still felt angry at yourself for being powerless under his heavy, dark-eyed gaze. Still felt so hopeless because the words died in your throat that day before they could escape your lips.

"What is it now, Y/n?" He had asked as you approached him timidly the next morning.

"Father, I heard that Genya had gone to the King's rooms last night," you had said, trying not to mumble.

"Yes," he had hummed, "She is my spy, Y/n. That doesn't concern you. Your time to serve as a spy for me has passed." With a wave of his hand, he had then dismissed you from the room.

You had wanted to tear out your father's eyes, wanted to scream how could you do this to her, to me? But you couldn't.

So here you were, outside your father's chambers while he punished Genya for deserting him on the other side of the door. Tears ran down your cheeks like rivers from your eyes, as you pounded on the door with your fists, your normally quiet voice raised to a shrill shout, calling out for your father to stop, calling out to Genya to see if she was okay.

He pulled the door open sharply and caught you around the collar, dragging you inside the room.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

Genya was weeping with her head buried in her hands, kneeling on the floor, quaking with fear. Black blood seeped from between her fingers as her shaky hands tried tailoring her wounds shut. You made a move to go to her, to put your arms around her and comfort her, but Aleksander held you back.

"Keep her in the cell," he said scathingly. "Tomorrow everyone will see her face. Everyone will be reminded of the consequences if they dare to try and double-cross me."

"No!" Genya screamed. It broke your heart.

You struggled against your father's iron grip weakly. "Father, no, please don't do this, I'm begging you!"

"Silence," he said sternly, as if you were just some otkazat'sya who he couldn't bother listening to, and you did just that.

Another win for him. Typical Y/n.

"Come," he said, beckoning you to where you knew he was keeping your grandmother.

Baghra. You adored her from the moment you had met her all those years ago. She didn't show it much, but you knew she adored you back. A rare phenomenon in her case. Aleksander had imprisoned her, just to work on another amplifier so he could defeat Alina.

"Sit down," your father ordered the moment you entered the room.

"Baghra," you whispered, trying to get her to look at you. "Grandmother."

She did look at you, finally, and gave a small nod of understanding towards you.

The guards had set up a second cage beside hers, and in that, they stuffed Genya. You made a noise of protest, but it was too soft for them to hear. You made eye contact with her and your e/c irises said it all.

I'm sorry.

You hoped she wouldn't look at you with loathing, hoped she didn't hate you now. Hoped that she knew how much you loved her, and that you would try your hardest to be heard, try to be a crack of thunder in a storm instead of just a gentle breeze on an autumn evening.

She looked at you like she always had, with warmth and adoration. Her blinded eye, too, somehow held that expression. It vanished, however, the moment the Darkling looked at her.

"Put out your foot, Y/n," your father ordered. You frowned and did just that, but you didn't see the mallet coming.

Aleksander nodded at the nearby guard, who took the mallet and swung it down onto your shin, shattering the bone with a sickening 'crunch'. You felt red-hot pain sear through your body, and cried out, clutching your leg gingerly.

"Why would you do that?" You screamed, shocking everyone in the room. No one had ever heard Y/n Morozova ever raise her voice. Hell, some of them thought you were mute. "I didn't do anything!"

Aleksander gestured at a Heartrender standing at the door, ordering him to extract some of the bone shards from underneath your skin.

"Hold her down," he ordered the guards. You thrashed about as much as your pain-riddled body would allow, sobbing uncontrollably. Both with pain and betrayal.

"Aleksander, stop this madness!" Baghra exclaimed as the Heatrender readied himself to remove the shards from your leg. "She's just a child!"

"A girl of nineteen is hardly a child," said the man with as much emotion as a teabag, speaking over your cries and screams of pain, as well as Genya's pleading voice. "Her bones are as valuable as yours, since she has some Morozova blood within her, and she is thus an amplifier."

"Do I repair the rest of her leg, General Kirigan?" Asked the second Grisha who had come in with the Heartrender.

Dismissively, Aleksander nodded, and the Healer set to work. However, with the missing chunks of bone, he said, "I'm afraid she will need a cane for the time being. If the cast doesn't work and she feels pain after the next one week, it means she'll have to use the cane for the rest of her life."

"No matter," shrugged your father.

How could he?

You waited till the Healer had fixed you up as best as he could, trying your best to ignore the pain which was still very sharp in your leg.

"What in the name of the Saints do you mean 'no matter', Father?" You scowled. "Does the fact that I'm a cripple now mean nothing to you?"

"Broken things are more fragile even if you fix them," said Baghra. "You know this, Aleksander."

"Y/n," Aleksander's voice was gentle and kind. He always did this. One moment he was the best father in the world, all kind words and sweet smiles, and the next, he was a monster in a man's body, watching as a stranger shattered his daughter's legs. "Think of how powerful we would be-"

"No," you said softly.

His gaze hardened. "No?"

You shook your head, "I'm done with your games, Father. This," you nodded at your leg, "This was the last straw. I cannot walk properly anymore. You mutilated the girl I love, and put my grandmother through things far too violent to recount. I loved you, she loved you, and Genya trusted you."

He rolled his eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

You knew you couldn't attack him. It would risk unleashing the nichevoya. So you used your words instead.

"Are you so oblivious?" You whispered. "All my life I have agreed with you, done as you asked. I let a man violate me in unspeakable ways, just because I did as you asked. You have used me, you have used my Genya, and you have used Baghra. You are a disgusting man, Aleksander Morozova. A disgusting man, son, father, and general.

Did you feel nothing when I came to you with blood on my nightgown, crying about the King? Did you feel nothing, when I said I didn't want Genya playing your spy?" Your eyes brimmed with tears. "Did you feel nothing when that guard smashed my leg and broke it like a stick?"

"Sacrifices for power," he sighed. "You are too young to understand."

"Age and eternity have made you emotionless," you shook your head. "They have stripped you of your ability to love, to cherish, to feel. You sacrifice to fill that void, you sacrifice because you know that alone, with your sins, you are not enough."

You felt fear seize your body when he caught you by the collar again and threw you nearly clean across the room.

"Learn your place, girl," he seethed. "I am your father. Never speak to me that way again."

You struggled to get to your feet, leaning against the nearby wall. Anger kept within for too long bubbled up within you, heating up into white-hot fury.

"My place, Father, isn't something you can dictate. This isn't Fjerda, this isn't the medieval times. I am a woman, a girl, a daughter. I have stayed silent for too long, letting you do with me, with others, as you please," you clenched your fists, darkness cloaking the room threateningly. "So, Father, do you ever want to say you're sorry? Will you try to make amends? Try to be a better person?"

"Quite the speech," he raised a brow. "But I am powerful, and no one will stop me from getting my Summoner. Especially not you."

He took you by the arm firmly and led you out, not caring that you were limping and hopping terribly. Genya cried out for you, begging him to be gentle, but with no avail.

"Stay in your room," he seethed, shoving you inside your room none too gently. "I have business to attend to."

You waited till he closed the door, and collapsed on your bed, screaming bloody murder into the pillow as you cried.

--Time Skip--

Night had fallen, and till then only one guard had knocked on your door to give you food.

"Cripple," he spat in Ravkan, making you nearly use the Cut on him in anger.

Your father hadn't returned yet from his twisted expedition, and you decided it was high time you broke your best friend and grandmother out of jail.

You knew that the guards deserted your corridor at exactly nine-thirty for patrol rounds. Quietly, or at least as quietly as you possibly could be, you snuck down the corridor to the room where you knew they were.

You slipped inside the room, and knelt in front of Genya's cage, breaking the lock with all your strength. It was rusty from lack of use, and came apart with the barest of snaps.

She avoided your gaze and covered her face with a hand, shrinking away from your touch. She didn't want you to see her this way. You found it odd, but shrugged it off. Naturally she wouldn't want to see you. You were the Darkling's daughter. She had no business looking at you the same.

"Please, get yourself to safety," you said quietly, moving away from her.

You felt hurt that she seemed to think you were like your father, that she seemed to fear you just as she feared him. You turned to Baghra's cage and broke the lock as well, feeling a little twinge of happiness on seeing her smile slightly.

You knelt in front of her like a knight would kneel before his King, ignoring the pain in your leg, and said, "I'm sorry for how my father has treated you. I'm willing to pay for his sins, I swear on it."

Baghra touched your shoulders gently, prompting you to rise. "Don't take accountability for Aleksander's sins, child. This was his choice, and he must pay for it. You are not defined by his actions, because you have proved time and again that you have tried your best to rebel against him."

You scoffed a laugh, helping her up. "I can hardly call cowering and giving unheard suggestions 'rebellion'."

"You'll understand what I mean with time, my dear," smiled the woman. She looked at Genya, who had laid waste to the table, save the bottle of amplifier which she now held in her hand.

You three escaped just barely, because your limp slowed them down. You apologised profusely along the way, and when they paused for a rest, you scoured for a branch which could double as a cane for you temporarily. When you did, walking became a thousand times easier. The entire journey, Genya didn't speak to you or look at you. Whenever you moved close to her, she'd scurry farther down the path, muttering to herself.

'I'm not like him,' you wanted to say. 'I'm in love with you, Genya, I'd never do anything to hurt you.'

But of course, the words didn't come.

Finally, you three came upon the hideout where everyone was. Genya was tackled in a hug by Alina, while you hung back, standing behind Baghra timidly. You knew you wouldn't be welcome there.

"Baghra," Alina said with relief, moving over to her. However, the second she did, the woman moved forwards to reveal your quietly standing figure.

Disgust painted everyone's faces and you saw people draw weapons, or, in the case of the Grisha, put their hands up defensively.

You didn't say anything.

Alina's piercing gaze was enough to make you want to shrink into the walls, and you nearly cowered with fright when she readied herself to attack.

"Alina," you were shocked as Genya spoke up. "She's harmless, don't worry."

"She's about as harmless as a viper," scowled the girl.

“Alina, trust me, she’s not like him,” said the redhead. “She’s the opposite.”

You put your hands up in surrender and shook your head, "I-I'm nothing like my father, I swear."

"I vouch for that," Baghra said with a nod.

"Fine," sighed Alina. She nodded at your leg, "How'd that happen?"

You cleared your throat and willed yourself to speak louder. "My father. He smashed my bone with a mallet to use as an amplifier."

"Saints," she scoffed, "That man is a psychopath. Tamar," she looked at the Heartrender, "Please see to it that she has a proper cane, and do help ease the pain a bit."

"T-thank you," you stammered, nervous of the girl who's eyes were no more scathingly trained on you. They were soft with concern, as she smiled slightly and nodded.

"Come on then," the Shu girl grinned, taking you by the arm gently. "Let's get you patched up better."

You nodded and followed her out, while Genya went to tend to Adrik.

Twenty minutes of excruciating pain later, your leg was mostly healed, but given the way it had been broken, they said there was close to no chance for your complete recovery.

A Fabrikator named Viktor fashioned a cane for you from the branch you were using. It was jet black, of course, with an intricate design of roses etched into the wood from the handle till the bottom which had a cap of silver on it.

You thanked him and Tamar smiled at you.

“Truly, you are unlike your father,” she said.

You blushed shyly and softly replied, “I’ve never found cruelty to be my area of expertise.”

Tamar patted your arm and helped you up, making sure you were putting your weight on the cane and not your leg.

You went to check on Genya, who, upon seeing you, fled from where she was sitting in front of Adrik, helping heal his hand.

“G-Genya?” You called out after her, your voice barely raised at all as you limped after her with as much speed as your leg would allow. “Please wait a moment, please.”

You both stopped dead in your tracks, when you ran into the Queen.

“You!” She gasped. “Guards! Guards!” She cried out, looking around frantically for them, her pale hair fluttering around her face.

She caught Genya by the wrist and seethed, “You both will pay for what you did! You monsters!”

“Please-please leave her be,” you pleaded, limping closer to the Queen, resisting the urge to beat her senseless with your new cane.

“Well,” she glared at Genya, “At least now you look like what you truly are,” she turned to you, “And you deserve to be crippled, you repulsive girl.”

“I-“ you faltered. You deserved it, didn’t you? You tried not to cry, as you gathered your thoughts, saying, “Please let her go,”

Genya yanked her arm out of the Queen’s grip, having had enough.

“Ask me how I did it,” she said, with venom in her voice. “How we did it.”

Your heart leapt. She mentioned you in passing, that was good. Perhaps she didn’t hate you after all.

“What?” The woman was baffled.

“Ask. Me.” Genya said forcefully. The queen made a nod as if to ask, and the redhead continued, “Y/n made the poison. She wanted her revenge anyway. So, I put it on my body, for weeks. So that every time he touched me, every time,” her voice lowered to a hesitant whisper, “he kissed me, he would take a little bit into himself.”

“All he had to do was stop coming to her bed,” you softly added in.

Seething, the woman replied, “He was your King,”

“He brought it on himself,” Genya spat.

“He took advantage of innocent girls, girls who couldn’t fight back, because he was our King,” you limped forward to stand beside Genya, mustering up courage to look the Queen in the eye. “It was because he was our King, we were terrified to speak. Because no one would’ve believed us. And even if they did, they couldn’t do anything about it. So do you blame us, your Highness, can you blame us, for taking matters into our own hands?”

“Oh? The Darkling’s mute little puppet girl speaks,” scoffed the queen, making you shrink back with shame. That tone stung you hard. Where they never took you seriously, where people only saw you as a pushover who had no voice. “You both are monsters, murderers.”

“Madraya,” Nikolai’s smooth voice was a saving grace in this fight.

“Nikolai! You heard them, arrest these murderers!” She said, looking at her son.

He looked horrified. “No,” he shook his head. “Not after what I heard.” He looked at her with disbelief on his features. “Both of them were under your protection.”

“They are servants,” she scoffed in disgust. “And the cripple is a puppet for the enemy!”

“And you, the Mother of Ravka,” he said. “Your subjects were to be like your children. All of them,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and brought you forward. Your eyes stayed riveted on the ground. “And Y/n? Just by being here, she has shown that she is no puppet for the Darkling.”

The Queen huffed and flounced off, skirts billowing around her as she did.

“Thank you,” you nodded and moved back, when Genya turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” said Nikolai.

“It’s not your fault,” said Genya, as she walked away.

You limped after her, calling out her name in vain. However, you cornered her at last in her rooms.

“Saints,” you panted, your leg aching horribly. You leaned your cane against a wall and tried catching your breath. “Saints, that hurts.”

“Y/n, please leave,” she said, packing up a bag for herself.

“No!” You said, annoyed. She looked at you at last. “No, Genya, I won’t leave.”

"Why not?" She scoffed. "Look at me, Y/n."

"I always am," you said. "I am always looking at you, Genya."

"Are you, now?" She laughed drily. "Honestly, Y/n, you don't have to pity me, alright? We aren't on the same boat, if that's waht your thinking."

"I have always thought we were oceans apart, Genya. With you all confidence and kindness, while I shrank away from the slightest word spoken to me," you said, your e/c eyes shining in the dim light, making it look like they had stars in them. "But that didn't stop me from loving you."

She looked at you incredulously, "Loving me?"

"Yes," you smiled, limping over to her hesitantly. "Since the day we met, I never stopped loving you. And this day is no diffferent. Scars or no scars, you, Genya Safin, are stronger than Grisha steel, and more beautiful than anyone I have ever encountered. You are a beautiful girl in a broken world, and-and if anything, your scars make you more beautiful in my eyes. It would be my honour to say that I am yours, Genya."

She stepped closer to you, taking your hands in hers. "Can you bear waking up to a scarred old face beside yours every morning?"

"It isn't something to bear, because burdens and problems are what we bear. This is no problem. It is a trophy, a symbol of your victory and strength, my Genya," you smiled. "I understand if you wouldn't want me, though."

"Why wouldn't I want you?" She asked. You were too oblivious, in her opinion. Had you forgotten the nights you both slept together, wrapped up in each other's embrace? The times she'd kiss your forehead to make you feel better? The times she hadn't denied it when people asked her if you and her were a thing?

"I am a cripple now, Genya," you accepted it with a shake of your head. "You protect and care enough for people. I don't need you doing that for me, because it would just add on to your own personal burdens.”

Genya came closer to you, taking your hands in hers. Her seeing eye was a deep gold in the dim light—a shard of the setting sun sparkling with love.

“Have you never noticed that I am in love with you?” she asked, making your heart leap. “Do you know how many times I’ve kissed your forehead, wishing it was your lips? Wishing that we could embrace with just the sheets between our bodies?”

“Um…” you felt yourself lean on her palms slightly. “Sorry,” you nodded at her hands clasping yours a little tighter now, with the weight on them. “But why did you run from me?”

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled sadly. “I ran because I thought that you would find me ruined now, with this.” She touched her fingers gingerly to her scars.

“Never,” you shook your head, shifting your weight to put more on your good leg, so you could hold her face in your hands. “My Genya, you should never think you aren’t the most gorgeous woman on the face of this planet, because Saints alive, I have never seen a woman so kind, loving, and caring as you. It shows on your face, and it only makes you more breathtaking.”

In the dim light, you saw her blush, just the barest dust of pink under her skin.

“That’s probably the most you’ve spoken in your whole life,” chuckled the redhead, leaning into your touch. It startled you, and in turn, made you blush a rather unsubtle red.

“I-um,” you tried pushing out the words which wanted to leave your lips so desperately, but all you could do as she stepped closer to you was exhale softly, “Genya…”

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name that way,” she smiled, looking up at you slightly as her hands rested on your waist. Her gaze skirted down to your lips and to your eyes as she asked, “May I?”

Your heart leapt, the words struggled again. You nodded wordlessly and she tilted her head up, pressing her slightly dry yet soft lips on yours. The words came again as you both stood there in the dingy underground room, just kissing.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your thumbs stroking her cheeks as you prayed to all the Saints that your palms weren’t sweating. You wanted this moment to last, this first kiss to extend into forever. The world faded around you, the panic of your father’s attack, the fear you felt in front of the Queen, all forgotten as you focused on Genya.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words didn’t come, they failed you again. But you didn’t mind this time.

You smiled against her lips, and kept your e/c eyes riveted on her as she pulled away, her face finally cracking into a large, bubbly grin.

You let your hands fall from her face and held her hands in yours, trying not to giggle.

“Did we just do that?” She asked.

Wordlessly, you nodded, folding your lips into your mouth as a loud, childlike giggle threatened to escape your lips.

She leaned up to kiss your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Perhaps we could work on your voice sometime?”

“Um,” you nodded your head and asked, “Would-would you help me?”

“Of course, Y/n,” she smiled.

“I-I’ll speak a hundred words a minute for-for you,” you said, out of breath suddenly. “It will just take some time…”

“We have all the time in the world, my love,” she brushed her thumb gently over your bottom lip, causing a shudder to go down your spine.

You took her hand and kissed it gently, before pressing another kiss to her cheek where her longer scar was.

“All the time in the world,” you repeated with a smile.

She nodded and took your hand, holding it while you grabbed your cane and the both of you walked out of the room, back to where the others were.

As the torchlight cast long shadows on the wall, and you sat beside her silently while the others gave strategies on their next move.

Ever so often you would glance at Genya, who wore a thoughtful look on her face. The dim torchlight fell from behind her, highlighting her profile in gold.

‘Why have you condemned her to suffer such hardships?’ You silently asked the Saints. ‘Why do you make every effort to make her suffer?’

The answer was a simple one, which you could practically hear those damned Saints reply.

Because fate isn’t kind to those who have beauty like hers.

Because she is a beautiful girl in a broken world.

———————————————————————

This one was so sad to write- but I hope you enjoyed it! I am accepting requests, so feel free to send over an anonymous idea or send me a dm <3

[maximoffgxrl]

i recently read your genya safin work and it was so beautiful!u said you werent so sure bc english isnt your first language but i thought you did so well!! seriously loved it, also i truly appreciate you write for female characters x fem!reader because its really hard to find so im thankful! i was wondering if its okay to send you an inej x fem!reader request?

thank you so much, anon, this means so much to me <33333 you're adorable thank u thank u thank u!

and of course you can send an inej request, i'd love to write it <3

[heliads]

Hoaxes and Hearts

Based on this request: “AU one-shot where Maze Runner characters are in Shadow & Bone. The pairing is Newt x female reader. Minho is Alina Starkov. Thomas is Mal Oretsev. Y/N L/N is Kaz Brekker. Teresa is Inej Ghafa. Newt is Jesper Fahey. He is Y/N’s boyfriend and a member of the Crows. Gally is the Darkling. Brenda is Genya Safin. Jorge is the Conductor.”

masterlist / part two

You are sitting with your back against the wall, wondering if you’re about to make a terrible choice. It takes a lot to survive in the Barrel, and even more to run it like you do. They call you Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, the one person who’ll probably be ruling hell when they finally make it there themselves. 

The other two people around the table, though, just call you Y/N. They’re your gang, the only two people you’ve got the nerve to trust in an entire city full of traitors and liars. What’s funny is that you three are the worst of that lot by far, yet you’ve called for them and only them because they’re the ones who will actually watch your back instead of plunging a dagger into it. 

They’ve been on countless jobs with you, yet for some reason you hesitate now, before you have to explain the latest task before you and ask them to sign away their lives yet again. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done the impossible together, but this one is riskier than all the others. 

You look at them now, your favorite Dregs. Newt’s watching you candidly; he’s never had to hide his gaze, not with you. You’ve yet to see him turn down a dare if his friends are involved, but his fingers still idly tap on the pearl-handled revolvers at his sides. He’s a good shot, possibly the best there is. 

You’re going to need your sharpshooter tonight, you know that. Still, you don’t like the thought of risking his life on a hopeless crusade. Newt was a good kid, once, a farm boy who grew up taking shots in between towering rows of corn and tomatoes instead of dodging criminals and convicts like the rest of you. Were it not for the fact that the payout for this job could make all of you kings and queens, you’d never ask Newt to do a job with this many faults. The thought of seeing him finally at peace, eyes closed and heartbeat gone, fills you with far more dread than it should. 

Beside Newt, Teresa stares out the window, searching for someone she knows she’ll never find. You’ll need your Wraith in this job, too, and especially tonight. Teresa deals in secrets, and knows just about everything on just about anyone, yet no matter how hard she searches, she never hears about the one person she wants to find most of all. 

You brought Teresa out of an indentured servitude from a brothel down the block, the Menagerie. Since then, she’s been nothing if not loyal, but you can tell that her focus always shifts back to those darker days if she’s not careful. 

One time, she told you about a boy she’d left behind there, a boy named Thomas. She thought she could get him out, and he thought she was betraying them to Ava Paige, the head of the Menagerie. He ran and never forgave her, and Teresa has been trying to find him again ever since. 

These two are your right and left hands, the backbone of your gang. As much as you hate to admit weakness, you wouldn’t be where you are today without them. Now, you’re asking them to risk their lives on a foolish quest that nobody would look at twice. 

Nobody, that is, except Dirtyhands. 

There is no more time to prolong the inevitable, so you fix each of them with a steely gaze. “There’s an opportunity coming up. Dangerous, but the payoff will be more than anything we’ve ever done before.”

Newt arches an eyebrow. “You say that as if it’s meant to dissuade us. Dangerous just means fun.”

Teresa leans forward. “You’ve never warned us about danger before. What happened?”

A muscle in your jaw clenches and you have to force yourself to relax before continuing on. “I was warned to stay away before we even had this conversation by Janson.”

Newt inhales sharply. He knows just as well as you do what Janson’s warnings mean. Janson is the head of your rival gang, W.I.C.K.E.D., and he’s notoriously brutal, perhaps even more than you. What’s more, your conflict with him is personal, although you don’t think Janson remembers. 

You were a kid when W.I.C.K.E.D. screwed you over, just a kid. They said they could help you survive in this sort of world, that you could make a difference and make choices the right way. To a bunch of kids who were too young to bear half the weight on their shoulders, it sounded perfect. 

You managed to get away when the Queen’s Lady plague spiked and everyone was forced inside. It took your brother from you, though, and made you swear to get your revenge on Janson one day. He could have helped, and instead he made all of you monsters. For that, he will pay. You won’t rest until he does. 

Newt knows this, and he knows what Janson warning you away means. “You’re not backing down, are you?”

You shake your head once, decisive. “No. The rest of you can, though.”

Newt laughs. “You don’t actually think we’re going to leave you on this, right? I’m in, all the way. Should be fun at any rate.”

You give him a look, but before you can challenge this, Teresa nods as well. “If Janson tried to warn you away, it means the job’s more important than he cares to let on. He always has his reasons for doing things, and I want to know his motives.”

That’s Teresa for you, you suppose, always in it for the secrets, the knowledge. You can’t say you blame her- you’ve been thinking about this very job ever since you heard about it.

Newt taps absentmindedly on the table in front of him. “So, what’s the job, anyways? I haven’t heard any talk in the whole place, so it must be secretive.”

You nod once. “Secretive and recent. Rumor has it that we need to find a way to cross the Shadow Fold by midnight tonight.”

Teresa blows out a low breath. “That’s almost impossible.”

Newt chuckles to himself. “Nothing we do is impossible. I’ve even seen Y/N smile.”

You roll your eyes. “Much of the job sounds like a hoax, anyways. Were it not for the massive payoff, I’d think they were trying to make fools of us. They want us to find the Sun Summoner. He’s a boy named Minho, and they want him brought here.”

Teresa’s eyes widen. “The Sun Summoner has been spotted?”

You hold up a hand to stave off her excitement. Teresa has always believed in morals, ethics, that there is a sense of right and wrong, and in a world like this, those take the places of the Saints. The Sun Summoner is another one of her stories, but you see it as nothing more than an excuse to let people push their problems off to the future, hoping that some mythical hero will come to save them.

Nobody is saving you, though, just yourself. “I wouldn’t get too interested. It’s likely a fake, some boy waving a torch that made people lose their minds. At any rate, it’s a job.”

Newt smirks. “Always the optimist, aren’t you, Y/N? You hear about a Saint come to live with us and you call him a party trick.”

You fold your hands over the crow’s head cane at your side. “I’ll believe in the Saints when they deliver me salvation from their very own glowing hands. Until then, I believe in what money can do for us, and this job’s got a better chance at that than any amount of miracles.”

Teresa wants to argue with this, but eventually the three of you leave your office at the top of the Slat in search of answers. Crossing the Shadow Fold is damn near impossible; doing it with a kidnapped Sun Summoner will be even harder. You’ll need your own way across, something no one has been able to accomplish in all the centuries since the mass of shadows split Ravka in two.

You do find something, eventually, thanks to a liar in the Crow Club. There’s a man here who goes by the name of the Conductor. Teresa finds him first, and after dodging Ava Paige’s desires to get the guy working for her or dead, you question him long enough to find out his motives.

The Conductor, as it turns out, is a middle-aged man graying at the seams. He calls himself Jorge, and despite the fact that you can’t tell whether or not he’s entirely playing at the tough madman look, you think you’ll be able to get him to work.

You can tell he’s hiding something, though, and after a few more words are discussed Jorge confesses why he’s been so invested in finding a way across the Fold. There’s a girl in East Ravka, he says, Brenda. She’s technically a Corporalnik, but she had the strange ability to alter people’s faces instead of stopping their hearts. She was a friend of Jorge’s, but he hasn’t seen her since she was taken to the Little Palace. He’s heard terrible rumors of greedy kings and jealous queens, and hopes to find a way to get her out or at least make sure she’s alright.

Eventually, you, Newt, Teresa, and Jorge set out for the Fold. Jorge has a clunker of a train ready for you, and after Newt manages to come up with some alabaster coal to power the thing, you’re on your way over to Ravka.

After many tense discussions, some within Jorge’s range of hearing and some outside, you form a plan. It had been brewing in the back of your mind for a while, the scraps of something that could work, but now you know for sure that it will. At least, you can hope. Few things truly go according to plan, and on a job like this, all bets are off. 

You and Teresa are inside the Ravkan palace now, watching the Winter Fete progress. You have yet to see Minho, but that’s no guarantee. The Grisha have likely kept their Sun Summoner safe until the last minute, too afraid of what kinds of people would come looking for him. People like you, for example. Monsters and thieves. 

Newt is somewhere outside, arranging a quick method of escape. He’d complained at this in the beginning, that he was so removed from the fight. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s because you cannot stand to lose him, and at least one of you should get the chance to run if things go south. 

Murmurs begin to drift through the room, spreading like wildfire until voices seem to cascade from every corner and stairwell. 

You nod at Teresa. “This should be it. Stay close and stay wary.”

Across the room, two figures emerge from a distant hallway. One is dressed in white, and she matches the description Jorge gave you- this must be Brenda. She looks anxiously at the boy in front of her, the one pushing recklessly through the crowd as if he couldn’t care less about what rich noblemen thought of him.

Minho, the Sun Summoner. He walks to the stage after conversing with a few other Grisha. You don’t know what to make of him; this boy wears his heart on his sleeve, and doesn’t bother hiding a single one of his emotions. He doesn’t seem the type to pull an elaborate hoax on everyone present, wouldn’t try and convince everyone that he’s a rare and powerful Etherealnik few have even heard of, but appearances can be deceiving.

The lights in the room dim, and Minho spreads his hands. His eyes flash, and sunlight begins to pour from his hands. A proud smirk lodges itself firmly into his expression, and you get the feeling that this boy is not the type to doubt himself. He’d run himself into the ground if he thought it meant protecting those he cared about; either that, or let his power run wild into the world if it abandoned him.

Sunlight fills the room, ricocheting off of every corner and wall. Beside you, Teresa clasps a hand to her heart, almost to the point of tears. She whispers something in your ear about how she’s never felt something like this in a long time. You would beg to differ, though. This sort of warmth, this feeling of never having to be alone- you feel it every morning when you see Newt. He is the precise shade of light that is currently being draped across the halls, and even if he’s technically outside preparing the carriage, when Minho spreads his arms you can practically feel Newt standing next to you.

Teresa looks stunned and amazed, but you just think about what this means. The Sun Summoner is real, Minho just proved himself, and that means you need to get on with the plan. You and Teresa wait until Minho steps from the stage and escapes from the quickly arriving crowd of supporters to make your move.

You’re supposed to pose as guards and pretend that you’re going to usher him to dinner, but the second you and Teresa try to get Minho anywhere a new figure shows up, this one clad in robes of black. Gally has been general of the Second Army for some time now, although he’s long been plagued by a deadly nickname. The Darkling, come to ruin you all just like his ancestor did long before.

Gally nods brusquely at the two of you. “I’ll take over. We need to discuss the war.” 

You’ve heard rumors from offended serving staff that Gally and Minho get on far better than they should. Although Minho’s supposed to be a paragon of hope and sunlight, he’s apparently shown himself to be far more brutal than most saints. That’s where he gets along with Gally, at any rate. They seem to be rather wary friends, but it’s a friendship that makes Fjerda and Shu Han tremble with fear.

Minho heads away with Gally before you and Teresa can say another word, both Grisha talking in low voices. Their faces are twisted with something dark, something like a need for vengeance. You’ve seen it on your own face too many times to count.

Teresa looks nervous, but no matter. All plans were made to change. You follow the two Grisha out, hoping to catch Minho when Gally is brought away by another matter. 

As it turns out, that won’t happen. Minho all but disappears- you can’t find him anywhere, and neither can Teresa, which surprises you. Eventually, you’re forced to retreat back to Newt’s side, although he seems strangely pleased about the whole matter. He refuses to say a word on it, though, not until the next day dawns and the carriage stops.

Newt proudly opens the trunk of the carriage to reveal one startled, wary Sun Summoner. You look slowly from Minho, who’s crawling out of the carriage with his hands raised in warning, then back to Newt, who looks as pleased as if he’s just been named the world’s best sharpshooter.

“This is why you looked so proud of yourself?”

Newt just smirks. “Hey, I did my job. That makes one of us, by the way.”

You deliver your best cutting glare, but it just makes Newt’s smile grow.

Minho coughs pointedly. “Who are you people, and why are you looking at me like I’m some sort of prize money?”

You fold your hands on top of your crow’s head cane. “Probably because you are. We know you’re the Sun Summoner.”

Minho’s face darkens. “Then you know I won’t hesitate to take all of you down.”

Newt’s hands drift towards his guns, but you hold up a hand. “That doesn’t have to happen. You’re running, aren’t you?”

You recognize the strained look on Minho’s face, the way he keeps glancing around as if in search of a way out. We all look like this in the Barrel, we all keep our weight on our toes and measure our futures in how quickly they can be escaped. Wouldn’t it be something to get away with this job after all?

Minho looks surprised that you managed to figure this out, so you keep going. “You’re in need of protection, a place to belong. We can give you all of that. All we ask is that you hold off on blinding us for a little while. It’ll be hard to outrun all of the Darkling’s Grisha, won’t it? You know his ruthlessness firsthand. Use yours to escape him. Come with us.”

Minho wavers, but eventually shakes his head. “I need to find a friend of mine.”

You arch a brow. “We’re rather good at finding people. Come with us, maybe we can track him down together.”

Minho’s gaze shutters. “Sounds like you’re trying to kidnap me, which I am very much against. Thomas is already looking for me, and he can find his way anywhere, out of any trap.”

Teresa gasps. It’s one of the first times you’ve seen her truly shaken. “Did you say your friend’s name was Thomas?”

Minho frowns. “Yeah, we’ve known each other for years. I can’t even remember what life was like before he joined us at the orphanage.”

Teresa looks thunderstruck. If this is her Thomas, then she’s going to want to keep Minho close so she can find her friend once more.

Minho seems to realize this, and raises his hands higher. “I’m not going to say it again. Let me go or else.”

Enough is enough. You start to move forward, as does Newt. You need to finish the job. Minho flinches at the movement and brings his hands together. A wave of sunlight bright enough to scorch your retinas cascades from him, forcing you to look away lest you be blinded outright. When you look up again, even half a moment later, Minho is gone.

You curse. “Fan out. We need to find him.”

Newt’s already shaking his head, confirming the truth that you don’t want to hear. “He’s gone, Y/N. We need to figure out what we’re going to do, not center around him.”

You nod. “Jorge stayed at the Palace, something about how he needed to stay for Brenda. He’s either with her or captured, and we can’t afford to waste time waiting for him. We need a new way to cross the Fold.”

It’s an impossibility, and all three of you know it. A heavy silence descends upon the camp, which only worsens as darkness grows. Teresa retreats inside an abandoned barn you’d found along the path. She hasn’t been the same since she heard Thomas’ name; it’s like she’s been reminded of a thousand memories, all of which she never thought she’d have again.

Newt, on the other hand, has only seemed more and more irritated since Minho gave you the slip. Eventually, his constant pacing wears on you, and you turn to him at last.

“What’s giving you such trouble? Either figure it out or put a stop to it, I’m sick of your worrying.”

Newt laughs, although the sound is far from pleasant. “Such kind words from our leader.”

You raise a brow. “I have never been kind, Newt. Don’t go looking for what you know I won’t show.”

Newt raises his hands to the sky as if silently pleading with the Saints to give him a better shot. “And you seem to revel in it, too. Honestly, would it kill you to show some emotion for once?”

You give him an unimpressed look. “I’m disappointed that the job didn’t go according to plan. Happy?”

Newt makes a face. “Delighted. Have you ever cared about anyone other than yourself, or is that all just a joke, too?”

You look over at him, attention now fully turned towards the conversation. “That was an abrupt change. Something on your mind?”

Newt glances towards the barn, where Teresa still remains inside. “Teresa just found out that the one person who matters most in her life might be within arm’s reach. We just lost our way home, and all you can think about is that you might miss out on the money.”

You consider the night sky before you, somehow unable to meet his gaze. “One of us has to think about the rational things. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

Newt sighs, running a hand through his golden hair. “Why am I even on this team? Why do you still keep me around? Don’t tell me there’s something rational about that too.”

You walk a few paces over to him. “Why are you bringing this up now? I hired you because you were a good investment, someone I could trust. That’s rare. I keep you here because you’ve proven yourself time and time again.”

Newt nods, although he doesn’t seem any happier. “Not because you enjoy my company? Because we’re friends?”

You scoff and look away, but Newt continues. This time, his voice is softer, as if he’s afraid. “I found out something about your files. You’ve only been hiring people who are immune to the Queen’s Lady plague. Teresa’s immune, Jeff’s immune, everyone is. Everyone except me. Why am I here, Y/N? Why go to all that trouble for some guy who doesn’t fit your standards?”

A sudden burst of rage spikes through you, too hot to stamp out. “Am I not allowed to have my secrets? Can’t you just respect me making my decisions for what is best for the Dregs?”

Newt shakes his head. “Not when it means you don’t care about me. What am I, anyway? A throwaway, someone you can risk on dangerous jobs because it won’t matter if I get out or not?”

You rear back, stunned. “Newt, the one reason you’re here is because I care too much about you. The rational thing to do would be to have never hired you in the first place. Everyone’s immune because I cannot stand losing a single other person, not to the plague. I can protect us from that, but I can’t protect you. You’re still here because I cannot bear to lose you. It is risky, and dangerous, and the worst sort of weakness, but I cannot lose you, Newt. That’s why.”

You take a harsh breath, swear you can feel it rattling in your lungs. Newt looks taken aback. “You care about me?”

You step away, unable to face him. “Too much so, yes.”

You hear the sound of footsteps and distantly wonder if he’s running away, so sick of you that he can’t bear to be around you anymore.

Then he’s in front of you, reaching for you, kissing you, and you cannot think about anything else but you and him and how good it feels to kiss him after all of this time.

Newt breaks away, laughing slightly in spite of himself. “You could have said that a little sooner, you self-sacrificing idiot.”

You reach out to tap him on the chest, right above the heart. “You shouldn’t call the leader of your gang an idiot. I’m known to kill people who displease me.”

Newt smirks, kisses you again. “I’d like to see you try.”

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel​, @ellobruv, @lxncelot, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42​

requested by @thornyrose463​, who also made this moodboard!

[steponmeinejghafa]

Dear Alina

≈☆≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈

Summary: Alina finds some letters you'd written to her, and her grief begins to worsen.

Alina Starkov x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Very, very, very sad. Mentions of death, sadness, loss, grief.

Note: I'm changing the format of my posts a bit from now, and because I am way too lazy, I won't update the look of my previous posts. Just know that from now, my posts will look a bit different <3 Thank you!

≈☆≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈≈☆≈

Her absence is like the sky; spread over everything. C.S Lewis

To Alina, you had been everything. You were her sun, her moon, her stars. You were her joy, her sadness, and most of all: you were her first love. Her first heartache, and last heartbreak.

The days seemed to stretch on forever now, with just the sun rising and setting, with everything going by like a blur. None of it felt real.

At first, she tried keeping her feelings away.

Till that day when she forgot.

She had been sitting in the library you both enjoyed reading in, and wanted another book which was a bit out of reach.

"Y/n, darling, could you please pass me that book?" She had asked, without looking up. Her heart suddenly gave a painful jerk, her mind stopped working, and she refused to look up and asked again, this time with more hope.

No, it couldn't be true.

"Y/n?" She'd sniffled, tears blocking her throat, choking her. Genya had only just entered, and had heard Alina repeat again.

"My love...?" She'd whimpered, her eyes closing as her walls broke, and along with them, so did she. She felt her heart break, her body folding in on itself as she pulled her knees up to her chest, her eyes scrunching closed. Tears kept flowing and flowing, running down her cheeks as her body quaked with the sobs that tore themselves from her body.

Foolish hope. Such foolish hopes that you would reply from the sky, from beside her.

That you would reply at all.

She'd registered Genya's arms around her, her soft hands running along her head, all while Alina had sobbed softly, calling out for you.

The Sun Saint wept a salty sea, drowning in her sorrow as the current of grief pulled her beneath the surface.

The world grew grayer every day, with just a bit of colour stripping away from it with every rise and fall of the sun and moon, while Alina herself grew grayer every day.

She sat that day at her desk in her new room. She'd moved out of the one beside yours a week after the library incident. She was afraid that if she was so close to the memory of you, a physical entity which tied to your spirit, she'd have her dreams plagued by memories, too.

But the subconscious mind can be cruel when it wants to be.

Every night, she'd lay in bed, and the moment sleep's fitful darkness would envelop her, her mind would either show her the day you'd died saving her from the nichevoya, or of memories of the pair of you.

She could never decide which one was more painful.

She pulled out a book to check some details, and a few envelopes fell out of it, floating across the floor before coming to a scattered stop.

She frowned, curious. These letters ranged from the yellowed, aged ones, to slightly creamy, relatively new ones.

She picked one up, one which looked a bit too yellow, and opened it.

Dear Alina-

She dropped the letter and backed away so fast, her chair fell down with a loud crash. Her hands shook hard, because she could hear your voice in her head as she read the words on the page, written in your neat printed lettering.

She'd nearly forgotten it, for it had been so long since you'd spoken to her. Clearly she remembered, because your voice in her head was so loud, it was as if you were reading the letter to her from right beside her.

How cruel the subconscious mind was...

She took a deep, shaking breath, and picked up the letter in her hands again.

She pulled up her chair and sat again, reading slowly. It was a love letter dated back to when she'd just been enlisted in the army, and you had finally met her after those years of separation. You had gotten tested to be a Grisha, and turned out to be a Squaller. For a few weeks, you had been assigned to the Second Army, and finally met up again. But then you went back to the Little Palace, and your conversations got restricted to just letters.

So there Alina was, feeling like she was back in her tent at Kribirsk, reading your letter by the dim lamplight, with her plate of dinner beside her, as her cheeks turned slowly pink with the words on the page.

Dear Alina, They say that love is blind, that it makes one irrational. I don't think that's true. That is an absolute, blatant lie. If anything, love has open eyes, beautiful eyes which hold the world, and those eyes are yours. Love keeps you on your feet, thinking about it endlessly. When I look at you, love is the only thing which crosses my mind. Honestly, I have a hundred things to think about in a day, but I choose to think solely about you.

I remember those nights we'd spend together, at the orphanage, with you in my bed, and me holding you close. I remember your scent, the soft tickle of your hair on my face, and how you'd kick me in your sleep if I hogged the blankets too much on a cold night.

I miss you so much, dear Alina. Please write back to me soon.

Yours undoubtedly, faithfully, and lovingly, Y/n.

"Saints, Y/n..." she whispered, holding the letter to her chest, the page crinkling under the pressure as she clenched her eyes shut, and held her breath, trying desperately not to cry. Her efforts were futile, because hot tears pushed past the creases in her eyes, and soft sobs made her chest heave.

The room was quiet, night beginning to fall slowly over the city and the palace. The setting sun's comfortable orange rays filtered through her long windows, falling on her face and illuminating her tears in gold.

There sat the revered Saint, weeping a river, her tears like painful drops of sunlight, leaving golden rays in their wake, as the twilight of the rising moon caressed her face.

With quaking hands, she reached for another letter, one which was written to her as just a small reassurance before her great battle with Kirigan.

She remembered the day clearly.

She had only just finished panicking and you, after having comforted her through every step of the way, had vanished for a few moments, returning with a letter in your hand. You waited for the right moment and slipped it into her pocket slowly, whispering in her ear, "Read it whenever you feel afraid."

Now, today, as she sat here, unharmed and alive, without you by her side, she was very afraid. Naturally, it seemed fitting to open the letter, however gut-wrenching and heart-shattering it might be.

Dear Alina, I understand that things are definitely not easy right now. Saints, they're absolutely terrible. But know this, I think you are stronger than any Saint to ever live, that you are far more courageous than our blockhead tracker friend, Mal. (I mean this in the nicest way possible for him.)

My love, you are the bringer of light, the sun saint who has the ability to push the darkness to its knees. You are freedom, liberation, and most of all? You are the very reason my heart keeps beating. You are my everything, dear Alina.

When all this is over, I want to take you to a quaint little coffeehouse on a proper date, I want to spoil you with all the clothes, the jewels, and love you could possibly want. Don't be afraid, my dear Alina. You are strong, capable, and I know you will bring liberation to us all. And I am with you, every step of the way.

Yours undoubtedly, faithfully, and lovingly,

Y/n

She read the letter three times over, feeling your words strike her heart with a gentle caress, the same caress, she remembered, of your fingertips on her skin that evening, as you both lost yourselves in each other, rumpling the sheets, while you confessed your love to her again and again as kisses and gentle caresses on her skin.

Suddenly, she felt a surge of anger go through her. It tore through her body, as if someone used the Cut on her, and her insides burned as though she was being lit on fire.

She slammed your letter down on the table and clenched her fists, breathing heavily before seething, "Why did you leave me and go, you bastard? 'Every step of the way' my ass!"

She glared at the picture of you in its frame and asked with a broken voice full of tears, "Why did you fucking leave, when you told me you're always there? I-I need you now, I want you here, Y/n! Where are you when I need you the most?"

She didn't even know why she was angry. Was it because you'd died? Was it because she didn't have the chance to say goodbye to you?

Was it even you who she was angry with?

The day you died haunted her like a vengeful ghost does to one who has wronged them.

She remembered it all. From the way the nichevoya ripped into you, to how your lips felt against hers as she kissed them with a hope that you’ll wake by some miracle.

She had only just begun to pack the letters away, when she found one whose wax seal hadn’t been broken, and the page looked very new.

She opened it, willing to rip her heart apart one last time, as she saw the words on the page. This letter looked smaller, and despite not having read it properly yet, it held an air of melancholy which was similar to a goodbye, rather than the melancholy of the grief she was feeling.

My dearest Alina,

This letter might be my last to you, as this is my final goodbye. Of course, you’ll only read this if I die, so I hope you never do read it.

If you are reading this right now…then that means I am no longer by your side. It means that perhaps I’m with the Saints, watching over you from afar in spirit.

No amount of words on paper, and not even all the ink in the world can be enough for me to express how much I love, adore and cherish you. There is not a single word in the dictionary which can describe the way my heart beats faster around you, the way my worries wash away when I’m in your arms, the way my mind’s frantic thoughts come to a stop when I can feel your lips against mine.

I am sorry for not being there to celebrate your victory, my dear Alina. From the depths of my heart and soul I apologise for leaving you, and trust me, wherever I am, I am shedding tears of guilt for leaving you when I have indeed said I’ll always be by your side.

I have but one request from you.

Don’t beat yourself up about this. Don’t blame yourself, don’t distance yourself from your friends. They may not love you exactly how I do, but they will love you in their own ways.

Most importantly: No matter how long it takes, no matter how hard it might be, or how painful it is…move on.

If sometime in the future you wish to find someone, find them. Don’t let your grief get in the way of you living your beautiful life the way it should be lived.

Take care of yourself, my dear Alina. Know that I’m always proud of you, that I always love you, no matter where I may be, or which entity I may become.

So here it is: my last goodbye to you.

Yours lovingly, and forever,

Y/n

Alina broke down again, this time, laying her forehead on her desk, with her hands gently caressing the paper of the note, while her tears soaked the papers' edges.

She could've sworn she heard your sweet voice, with its smooth undertones. She could've sworn a moment ago she could smell your scent, as if you'd stood beside her to read the letter out to her.

She couldn't move on, not yet.

She shook her head and dragged herself to her bed, the moonlight now seeping through the windows, silver and glowing. She blew out every lamp in her room till the lights was blue and white from the stars and night sky outside.

So, as the moon rose high, and the stars twinkled against the midnight blue sky, her tears finally dried, her mind was kind. It let her sleep without the plague of memories or dreams. It allowed her to simply remember, not feel.

As she lay on her side, she thought of you. She didn't think of that day, or of memories you'd shared.

She simply thought about you.

You and your incredibly stupid jokes which always made her laugh. You and your crooked little smile which made your eyes crinkle and her heart flutter. You and your gentle kisses, a soft brush of your lips on her skin, never failing to make her blush every time.

Just you and her against the world.

But even in her momentary bliss, she knew, that was in the past. She knew that the warmth she felt was of the sheets, of her blanket. She knew the other side of the bed would be cold the next morning, because you weren't there to sleep in it.

She just knew.

The Sun Summoner slept, with a mind full of desires, and a heart full of sorrow. With a body desperate to be held, and a soul desperate to reunite with its other half.

Your absence was like the sky; it spread over everything.

And the only thing she could do was move on...

...but not just yet.