#that's not healthy zoya

[ptnbunnie]

Thinking…/////

I’m not delusional shut up

[pinkcadavart]

Mama, they say I'm a terrorist

[hottpinkpenguin]

Why are you looking at me like that?" "I like to look at beautiful things

With Darkling?

The Most Beautiful Thing - Darkling X Fem!Reader

A/n: thank you for your patience anon! hope you love it :) Word Count: 2368 Warnings: none (not proofread)

“Genya, you cannot be serious.”

She smirked at your reflection in the mirror, a look of mock offense on her face.

“Y/n, whatever do you mean?” 

She stifled a laugh as she continued pinning up your hair, plunging a few more pins into your hair. Her levity made your mood more sour and resentful.

“I’m glad you’re having fun with this,” you spat back petulantly. “I am not wearing this.”

You gestured down at the emerald green gown that Genya had procured for the occasion. It was a beautiful piece of handiwork, no argument there, but on you? It looked preposterous. You’d never seen this much of your own skin before, and the thought of wearing this in front of Ravka’s nobility made your stomach turn. The neckline was low - dangerously low, you thought, as you tried to pull the watery-smooth silk higher up on your chest to cover more of your decolletage. The side slit running up your leg was so high it felt immodest. With a well-placed breeze or a misstep on the dance floor, you worried that all of Ravkan royalty would get a healthy look at your backside. 

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Genya chided you as she pulled out a strategic curl of hair from your hairline. “You look stunning and you know it. You’re just fishing for compliments.”

You shook your head earnestly and too violently for her tastes. She playfully smacked you on the shoulder, barking the command “hold still!” as she continued to fuss over your hair. 

“Genya, I am as serious as the day is long,” you murmured. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at you in the mirror as she twined another sprig of baby’s breath into the hair at the crown of your head. “This dress is something for the Queen, but me? Gods, what will people think?”

“They will think that you have an exquisite eye for fashion,” Genya replied smartly, her voice taking on a more serious tone. She was getting irritated, you realized, and maybe rightfully so. She had made the dress herself, after all. When you’d told her that Ivan, arguably the second-highest rank Grisha general in the Second Army, had invited you to the Ravkan Court’s Winter Ball, she had practically fainted with excitement. You, for your part, had been less than keen on the event. Your ridiculous appearance was confirming your worst fears true: you would be laughed at. Ivan, Zoya, Fedyor. Even Alina at this rate. You had no business in these fine silks and lavish stones. The closest you’d ever come to finery before was the red kefta you’d received as a Heartrender when you’d enlisted in the Second Army three years prior. 

“Y/n, look at me.” Genya grabbed the seat of your stool and swung you around, away from the mirror where you were chewing on your lip and staring at your own reflection. You hardly recognized yourself. The ridiculous worry that Ivan - your oldest friend - wouldn’t recognize you whipped across your mind like a strong breeze.

Genya grabbed either side of your cheeks, forcing you to meet her eyes. She was already dressed for the event, having devoted most of the afternoon to preening and fussing over you. Her gown was a soft, sunrise-pink with delicate lace layers that seemed to melt into her skin at the sleeves and hem. She had a small cluster of baby blue delphinium blossoms tucked above one of her ears, and her red hair was long and loose around her shoulders. She looked glorious - a picture of the gentleness of spring amidst a harsh Ravkan winter. Her beauty only sank you further into despair. Next to her, you looked gaudy. 

“You look incredible,” she said pointedly and firmly. “You feel ridiculous, but that is not the same thing as looking ridiculous.” 

Against your better judgment, you considered her point. It made sense, you decided, and you felt a bit of that fearful tension in your chest loosen. You took a shaky breath in, feeling the chain of coral and moonstone gems around your neck rise and fall with your inhales and exhales.

“Tonight is about allowing ourselves to enjoy what being a Grisha in the Second Army has to offer,” she continued, letting go of either side of your face. Her hands interlaced with yours in your lap. “Tonight is about fun.”

You continued to steady your breathing, slowly allowing yourself to realize how ridiculous you were acting. You’d gone into battles before, for God’s sake. You’d stopped the hearts of your enemies and restarted those of your friends. You’d trained and bled and almost died for Ravka dozens of times. And here you were, cowering in your dressing room, because you had to wear a dress? 

“I suppose you’re right,” you replied after a moment. Your voice quavered slightly, but you were beginning to feel yourself relax. As always, Genya proved herself to be the tonic that you needed.

“Good,” she concluded, rising from her chair with a chipper smile. “Now that I’ve saved you from your own self-consciousness, can we head to the throne room? We’re already late.” 

You glanced at the window outside, noticing that the horizon was turning from burgundy to a dark, plum-wine color. It was much later than you’d realized. Rising from the stool on shaky legs, you let Genya whisk you out of your chambers. The cool evening breeze running over your legs - an undeniable reminder of that precariously high slit - threatened to undo what little composure you’d managed to recover. You did your best to press the concern from your mind and followed along behind Genya. She practically danced down the candlelit guest corridor of the Royal Palace. You could hear the distant sound of a crowded party: an indistinct murmur of voices, clinking glass, and somewhere beneath that the delicate melody of a violin trio playing a jaunty waltz.

“Genya! There you are! We’ve been waiting!” David raised a hand in greeting, a broad smile breaking across his usually somber face. Genya playfully huffed as she skipped the last few steps, her fingers locking with his outreached hand. 

“It takes quite a while to prepare oneself for events like these, you know,” she replied cheekily to David. He smiled indulgently at her before nodding courteously in your direction. 

“Y/n, Ivan asked me to tell you to wait here. He forgot something in his quarters. He won’t be but a moment.” 

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realized what David was asking. He wanted you to wait here, alone?

“Well, perhaps I can go in with you and we can all rendezvous with Ivan when he gets back?” you countered, falling into step at Genya’s shoulder.

“No, nonsense!” she protested, placing a firm hand on your elbow and halting your momentum. “Stay here for Ivan, it won’t be long. It’s not proper to enter these kinds of events without your companion,” she told you insistently. Before you could argue, her and David had swept off, leaving you alone at the top of the staircase. In the hall below, you could see the shadows of incoming partygoers as they meandered towards the sounds of the ball, which were considerably louder now. A warm, inviting light from the direction of the throne room beckoned the attendees in, and delicious aromas wafted up to meet you. 

Feeling put out and out-of-place, you leaned back against the banister of the stairway, silently urging Ivan to hurry up as you lost sight of David and Genya in the crowd. You were truly alone now, nothing but you, your jewels, and the risque green gown. You fidgeted with a strand of hair that Genya had expertly teased out to frame your face, trying to remember what she had said to you that had eased your worries back in your dressing chambers. Looking out of place isn’t the same thing as feeling out of place… or was it the other way around? Just because you feel something doesn't mean you don’t look it? 

You were tripping over your own thoughts, anxiety and frustration increasing by the moment, when suddenly you had the spine-tingling awareness that you weren’t alone anymore.

You turned to find a tall, imposing figure standing a few feet behind you. Your heart jumped into your chest and you practically toppled down the stairs in your rush to salute the man in front of you. 

General Kirigan seemed to materialize out of the darkness as if he were made of shadow himself. His black kefta was gleaming in the candlelight, along with his coal-dark eyes. He was taller than you’d expected, and devastatingly handsome. His expression was unreadable with the faintest smile playing across his lips, his posture straight and regal. You’d only seen him from great distances, never this close before. And up close, he was every inch the legend that you and so many other Grisha revered. He oozed an easy restraint, the kind of genteel manner that sets true leaders and royalty apart from the rest, but beneath that veneer of control was the vibrating frequency of raw power. It both terrified and thrilled you.

“General Kirigan, sir, I didn’t see you there.” You stammered and saluted clumsily, the motion feeling laughably mismatched with your attire. His eyes glimmered with amusement as he bowed gallantly. 

“Y/n, I believe, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice smooth and dark like running water. You couldn’t hide your shock to hear him call you by name.

“It is, yes sir,” you replied with surprise as a deep flush painted your cheeks. The General’s eyes flickered over you with a glint of satisfaction that you were certain you imagined. 

“Ivan speaks very highly of you,” he continued with ease. He spoke as if talking to someone he’d known for years, with a confidence and fluidity that had always eluded you. 

Uncertain of how best to respond, you merely nodded, swallowing thickly. You were beginning to feel uneasy under his gaze. It was probing and unflinching, not lecherous but not entirely proper either. The flame in your cheeks grew hotter as you dropped your eyes, studying the plush red carpet runner on the marble staircase.

“I see you’ve chosen green tonight,” General Kirigan commented, gesturing at your gown. The abruptness with which he addressed your attire made you wish you could vaporize on the spot. It confirmed your worst fears: you looked so ridiculous that the Black General felt the need to point it out.

Unable to meet his eyes, you only nodded again, self-consciously smoothing the emerald silk against the sides of your hips. 

“It suits you.” 

The wind felt sucked out of your chest. You looked up at the General with a dumbfounded expression. His smile broadened, the first genuine and unrestrained expression you’d seen on him yet. Your mind went completely blank as his singular attention intoxicated you. Your mouth opened and closed futilely, your cheeks no longer ablaze with embarrassment but with a different, more primal heat. The sensation was unwelcome, especially in front of the highest commanding officer of the Second Army, but it couldn’t be helped. You tried to steady your fidgeting hands by looping one across your stomach to hold the inside of your opposite elbow, then playing idly with the coral and moonstones of your necklace, but nothing helped. All the while, the General’s eyes danced across your face, not quite searching, not quite settling. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you blurted out recklessly after a few more moments under his scrutiny. He smirked, running a hand through his midnight-black hair and chuckling as if you’d said something funny. The dimming candle glow in the staircase caught the angles of his face in a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. Your heart pirouetted in your chest, suddenly acutely aware of how beautiful he was, and how very close he was.

“I like looking at beautiful things,” he commented casually. It took you a heartbeat before you caught his meaning. He stepped towards you, so close that you felt the teasing breeze of his breath fluttering the strands of your hair that framed your face. He found your hand in an easy motion and raised your knuckles to his lips, holding your eyes with a smoldering gaze. He pressed a firm kiss the smooth skin on the back of your hand, sending goosebumps rippling up your arm and shivering all the way down your spine. 

“And you are the most beautiful thing,” he murmured with a final sweeping and appreciative gaze up one side of you and down the other. 

He dropped your hand gently and turned away from you, descending the stairs towards the sound of the party. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, leaning back against the staircase railing to balance yourself on suddenly unsteady legs. Your eyes followed him, your heart beating wildly in your chest as your still-blank mind tried to fumble through the interaction. He half-turned back in your direction and hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. 

Your legs were moving before your mind knew what was happening. You wer halfway down the stairs before you understood that he was waiting for you and that you were walking to him. A distant part of your mind reminded you that you were supposed to be waiting for Ivan.

You swatted that thought away with a half-smile as you imagined Ivan’s reaction to seeing you at the party on the General’s arm. You’d never hear the end of it. 

It’s worth it, you decided as the General held out an arm for you, sparkles in his eyes. Your arm threaded around his with a well-practiced movement that felt as natural as breathing. 

“Y/n,” General Kirigan murmured with a satisfied smile in your direction. 

“General,” you replied, shooting him a sly half-smile. 

“Shall we, then?” he asked politely, inclining his head in the direction of the ball. You nodded happily, allowing him to lead you down the hall and into the brighter lit of the crowded ballroom, all fears and worries evaporated from your mind…

[aleksanderscult]

Hello, I started following your blog pretty recently and I agree with most of what you think. I felt so confused when I finished the books and came on tumblr to see everyone hailing malina as the perfect relationship and I was glad to know that I wasn't the only one who disliked him.

I wanted to ask you something, im not sure if I saw this on this blog, but someone said that zoya is an example of toxic feminism in YA fantasy. Which checked out to me, but it also felt that bardugo added misogyny, feminism and toxic feminism in the SaB series.

Misogyny since alina had to face sloot-shaming in every book (almost entirely by Malyen ugh 😒). I felt that she really tried and suceeded to be feminist with genya, since she actually stood up for herself and had many facets to her personality. She also wasn't an important character just because of her beauty or anything super superficial. Genya IS a strong female character, and she wasn't 'broken' by the king, despite the foul things he did.

But zoya.. my god, I really wanted to like her, but I just couldn't. She is mean and hot headed to the point where I really don't see any redeeming factors to her. I always liked 'mean girl character who isnt as shallow as she seems' in fantasy novels, but she didnt exactly have a redemption arc either. If the darkling had warned her about expanding the fold in the first book, she would have fought for him. I think she isnt a strong female character, but just a girl who is a bully and decided to help mc since the antagonist hurt her specifically. She doesnt even think of the other casualties of novokribirsk. I think the 'break nikolais heart, I'll comfort him and make a magnificent queen' part was a joke, but still....

Please excuse my yapping. I haven't read crooked kingdom and nikolais duology, so I don't know if the characters had any developement since then, so please ignore any innacuracies of this text pertaining to that. Do you have any thoughts on this?

(Do you allow emoji annons? If so, can I be 🎀 annon?)

(Of course I do! You can use any emoji you want and ribbons remind me of coquettish things 😍)

Genya in S&B was my favorite version of her. She was traumatised by the King's abuse, that's true. But she wasn't solely that.

(Here's a meta about that version of her that I once did)

She was very brave, vengeful, intelligent, politically aware, had a sense of humor and was kind. There were different aspects to her personality and wasn't solely "the victim" as many fans of the Grishaverse like to portray her. But in Nikolai's duology Bardugo either forgot how to write complex situations within a court or just doesn't know how to (or it doesn't suit her 🙃).

She threw all the blame to the Darkling (as if he was entirely at fault for her sexually abuse), forgot that Grisha were serfs meant to please and serve the royal family (hence why the Darkling gave her to the Queen) and also forgot how it was the Queen who withdrew her protection and allowed her husband to abuse her. Also, a slight amnesia to how Genya herself decided to stay and take revenge. Essentially, the character became Leigh's mouthpiece to remind the reader that the Darkling is a heartless motherfucker that is undeserving of redemption. How banal.

Now about Zoya. Zoya is the typical female character that we encounter in media nowadays. A girlboss that kicks ass, is rude, has no sensitivity and threatens everyone. Again, cliché. But Leigh broke her own in-universe laws when she gave Zoya the protagonist's role.

Meaning:

The narrative with Alina as a protagonist: "You can't have feelings for your enemy!! You can't be independent! You need to depend on your toxic, childhood friend and...what is this? Power?? You took three amplifiers?? WELL SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR POWERS THAT KEEP YOU HEALTHY AND STRONG!!"

The narrative with Zoya as a protagonist: "Take the amplifiers, take the power to turn into a dragon, let's also have a Saint in your head giving you advice and guess?!? You just got promoted into a Queen and soon enough you will marry the love of your life!! Kudos!!"

That's basically what happened.

It would be an amazing end if only:

- Otkazat'sya didn't hate the Grisha's guts.

- Zoya had the qualities of a leader and a Queen instead of being handed the throne on a silver plate from an illegitimate son who failed in his job.

- The author didn't break her own rules just to prove and show how "awesome" her protagonists are.

- The same author didn't copy paste the storyline of Daenerys Targaryen into Zoya's (somehow she needed to appear cool and sympathetic)

- Half of the fandom didn't hate the primary protagonists now than they ever did before.

So basically Leigh infuriated the fandom even more about Alina's fate when she gave Zoya everything.

And about your question if the characters had any development in the later books after the trilogy. I've got some bad news, my friend. 🥲

[clara-oswinoswald]

The way Mal treats Alina at the end of ch 14 of Shadow and Bone is, for lack of a better word, disgusting.

1.He is upset because he found her happy and safe instead of, idk, being tortured like he imagined?

2.He slut shames her: Are you happy here with him?... The clothes, the jewels, even the way you look. He's all over you.

Mal's comment about how Alina looks is specifically shitty, considering this is the first time she's looked healthy in years. Also, she shows interest in another man and suddenly she's vilified by him? When he's slept with probably dozens of girls, including Zoya.

3. He gets angry at Alina for the way the Darkling looks at her...

If Leigh wanted us to ship malina, Mal should have treated Alina better. he's not acting like a friend here, he's acting like a walking red flag.

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

Part Seventeen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: With the remains of the Fold vanquished, the people celebrate. Together, you and Aleksander work to establish peace in Ravka and a safe haven for your Grisha.

Warnings: canon level violence, allusions to sex, (the sex isn’t explicitly described but it’s happening), mentions of canon level treatment of Grisha (experimentation, forced servitude, drugging).

A/N: I’m tearing up writing this, but it’s been almost a full year since I first started writing for Aleksander and I’m so pleased that I’ve managed to actually finish this series. The majority of my motivation has come from all you lovely people who’ve been leaving your wonderful comments and reblogs, so I just want to say a huge thank you to you all and I really hope you like this ending.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Your return to Os Alta is a spectacle.

People line the streets, waving and cheering, throwing paper confetti and flowers over your heads. You smile widely at Aleksander, and you can see in his eyes how much this moment means to him.

Despite the ache in your legs from riding all morning, the crowd’s enthusiasm fuels you, and you all but skip up the front steps of the Grand Palace for a meeting with the king.

Remembering the first time you had walked through these halls, anxiously waiting to meet the king that you were plotting to remove from power, you can’t help but compare it to today.

There’s no anxiety as you step through the door into the main hall, walking side by side with Aleksander, your friends flanking your procession as you stop at the foot of the dais to greet Nikolai with a bow.

There’s no crowd of people surrounding the dais, or lining the carpet that you stand on. It’s just Nikolai, with his guards posted at the doors and a few servants.

He seems happy to see you both, and immediately stands, moving down to stand in front of you both.

“Ravka owes you an unpayable debt.” Nikolai says, before he adds quietly, “As do I.”

You give him a knowing nod and smile.

“I wouldn’t say no to a knighthood.” You remark. The corner of his mouth twitches with a smirk.

“What about a sainthood?” Your eyes widen, and your expression drops in surprise. Nikolai nods between you and Aleksander. “For both of you.”

You can’t speak. A saint? You can’t imagine being worshiped as a saint. Having altars and portraits made for you, and people praying to you. Luckily, Aleksander responds for the two of you. He bows lightly.

“There would be no greater honour, Your Highness.”

In almost a year, you’ve gone from not even existing in this world, to becoming one of their saints.

“We have some other news as well.” Aleksander adds.

“Don’t tell me you finally proposed.” Nikolai remarks with a raised brow, his gaze dropping to your bare hand.

Behind you, Zoya stifles a laugh, and Aleksander’s face has gone strangely blank, as if he’s having trouble processing what Nikolai had just said.

“I’m so tempted to hit you right now.” You tell him with a small laugh.

“Not the face, please.” He teases, and you roll your eyes. Then his expression becomes more genuine. “What is your news?”

Glancing over at Aleksander, you find him already looking at you. When you raise a brow in questioning, he nods over to the window where a rather sad looking flower is struggling to bloom.

“Go on.” He encourages you softly.

Inhaling deeply, you nod, and walk over to towards the plant. Nikolai’s eyes follow you with curiosity.

On the journey through the countryside back to Os Alta, you had begun to test the scope of your new power with help from Aleksander. So far, you’ve been able to revive diseased or injured plants to a more healthy state.

Grisha do not conjure from nothing. A plant has to exist before you can manipulate it. But Aleksander believes that with some practice, you might be able to grow something from the smallest scrap of plant - a leaf or a petal.

Due to his belief and guidance, you feel able to tackle the plant sitting by the window in Nikolai’s throne room.

Living in the dry stuffy air of the Grand Palace has clearly taken a toll on the poor flower.

“Are you fond of this?” You ask Nikolai with a nervous smile as you gesture towards it. He raises a brow in amusement.

“Does it look like I’m fond of it?” He smirks, but then his expression softens slightly. “It’s my mother’s.”

“No pressure then.” You mumble.

Squeezing your dominant hand into a fist, you draw your power into your hands, curling your other hand around your fist. A tingle of excitement runs through you, which you channel into reviving the plant.

The dryness fades from the leaves, replacing it with a healthy green, and the withering buds open, allowing the blooms to flourish.

Nikolai’s eyes widen and you smile proudly, glancing over at Aleksander who regards you with a pleased expression. Your smile widens.

Immediately, Nikolai begins his questions, his mind filled with countless different possibilities of what your power can do. If you weren’t so tired from the journey, and longing to be home at the Little Palace, you would be eager to join in with him as usual. Instead, you shake your head at him.

“Can we do this some other time?”

He halts his words quickly, looking over you for a moment before he realises.

“You must be tired.” He says straightening, and you smile fondly. “And I have celebrations to oversee. I’ll send for you in a few days time.”

He takes your hand in his own.

“My offer still stands.”

You shake your head. Now that you can have Aleksander for eternity, you won’t let Nikolai marry for any reason other than love.

“My answer remains the same.” You tell him, leaning forward to press a kiss against his cheek. “You’re going to make someone very happy one day Nikolai.”

He nods with a small smile.

When you turn around, Zoya regards you with a raised brow, her eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. All the same, your cheeks flush with warmth.

“We’re friends.” You tell her, nodding towards Nikolai.

She smirks.

“I thought you said you’d never replace me.” She teases.

“And you are?” Nikolai remarks smoothly. She straightens, holding her chin high.

“Zoya Nazyalensky, moi tsar.” She bows lightly before she adds possessively. “The best friend.”

Nikolai grins before he teases,

“Self appointed?”

Zoya’s eyes burn, your own eyes widen, and for a moment you fear for Nikolai’s life.

“You’re both my friends.” You say quickly, hoping to avoid an incident. “And I’m sure the two of you can come to some sort of agreement.”

Zoya hums, unimpressed, and turns on her heel as the Grisha are excused from the king’s presence. Nikolai’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches her figure retreat.

A smile touches at your lips as you realise that perhaps Nikolai and Zoya will find a way into one another’s hearts on their own.

Your return to the Little Palace is no less eventful.

The servants prepare all manner of dishes and desserts for dinner, and you try a portion of almost everything. With the combination of travelling and using your power, you’re starving.

Aleksander helps to assemble your plate with spoonfuls of delicious food, and you do the same for him. When he invites you to try something from his plate, you do the same.

Lots of your Grisha are eager to see your new power, and you find that you can change the colours of a flower which impresses a small gaggle of children who all request their favourite colours and clap in delight when you oblige them.

Aleksander remains at your side for the rest of the afternoon, with a smile lingering on his lips as you use your gift.

A few Grisha retrieve their own instruments from their rooms, and begin to play all manner of different tunes from their hometowns. Regardless of whether the songs are familiar, most people join in on the fun, dancing and clapping along.

You and Aleksander watch as the Grisha celebrate, and you already know how much this means to him, to see his people finally able to celebrate something. Hopefully, it won’t be long before they are celebrating again, when the wars are over.

Aleksander has been more forthright with his touch throughout the afternoon. A hand on your back as he guides you through the crowd. His fingers entwined with yours as you sit after dinner. Occasionally he will knock his knee against yours to attract your attention to something.

As the sun begins to set, Aleksander leans closer to you as the two of you stand at one side of the room watching the dancers begin to prance along to a lively tune.

“Shall we retire for the evening?” He murmurs against your temple. Turning your head, you smile up at him, and nod.

Aleksander takes your hand as you weave through the crowd. The people surrounding you must see something in Aleksander’s expression that prevents them from approaching you, and soon you’re stepping out of the Domed Hall into the quiet corridor.

The sounds of people laughing and celebrating are muffled as the two of you begin to retreat.

You can’t hold back a surprised giggle as Aleksander sweeps you up into his arms, hooking one arm under your legs to carry you bridal style through the corridors of the Little Palace.

He walks down a very familiar hallway, and through a well known set of doors, into his bedroom.

Aleksander sets you down at the end of the bed, the same bed that, from the very first night, has always been yours as much as it is his. He takes your face between his hands and kisses you firmly, lips working against yours to steal the air from your lungs. But who needs air when you have Aleksander to sustain you?

“Sasha.” You breathe out in a gasp against his lips.

He pulls away, his eyes blown wide, filled with adoration and love as he stares at you, his beautiful lips parted as he smiles and his dark hair already ruffled by your hands.

He kisses you again, softer this time.

Aleksander’s hands settle at your waist, as you slide your own hands down from his hair, along his shoulders and over his chest. Hooking your fingers under the lapels of his kefta, you attempt to shift the garment from his body.

One of his hands curls around your wrist.

“Are you sure?”

Leaning closer to brush your lips delicately against his own, you smile softly and nod.

“I’m sure.”

Aleksander learns the language of your body in a startlingly short amount of time. He seems to know exactly where to kiss, to touch and tease, to draw out the most exquisite bursts of pleasure that shudder down your spine and linger like phantom touches over your skin.

He’s reverent with you, eyes filled with awe as he studies your every reaction, which brings a full bodied rush of blood to tingle underneath your skin.

There’s a look of pride on his face, every time a gasp or broken moan leaves your lips, and whenever you say his name he all but doubles his efforts to give you every ounce of pleasure that he knows you deserve.

Yet his touch is nothing compared to the sweet words that are murmured against your lips, or accompany the kisses he leaves along your neck.

“That’s it, my dearest love. Let me hear you.”

“Aleksander.” You whine, grasping tightly onto him.

He shushes you tenderly, linking your fingers together with both hands, pressing them against the mattress as he continues to kiss you, his body firm against yours.

“Relax, my love. I have you.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and continues to murmur softly against your hairline.

“Let me take care of you, hm?” He reasons, trailing kisses along your jawline. “You’ve taken such good care of me, given me everything I’ve ever wanted. Let me look after you now.”

The guards posted outside his room learn Aleksander’s true name that night, a fact that you realise the next morning with a flush of embarrassment.

You bring the matter up not long after you wake in Aleksander’s arms. In response, he chuckles and you hide your warming face against his bare chest.

“I’m sorry, Sasha.” You mumble.

He hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his eyes.

“I can think of no better way of them hearing my name, than from your lips.”

He kisses you softly, and any worry you had quickly disappears.

»»---------------------►

A few days later, you receive a summons from Nikolai. That morning, you watch from the head of the bed as Aleksander finishes getting dressed. Much to your confusion, he had told you not to get ready yet.

It’s only when Genya appears at the door, with a clothing bag slung over her arm that you begin to suspect why Aleksander had asked you to wait.

She’s wearing a red kefta, cleaned and pressed to perfection, and you can see her pride as she wears it. With a knowing smirk, she asks if you’d like her to remove some of the marks along your throat, and your cheeks warm as you feel Aleksander’s eyes on you when you refuse her offer.

Then she places the clothing bag across your lap, and you frown at her.

She unzips it.

A black kefta, with green embroidery lining the hems. There’s a few small splashes of colour, soft dots of red, purple and blue - the three Grisha orders - that look like tiny flowers amongst the weaving green.

When you see the kefta, emotion wells in your throat, and can’t stop the flood of tears spilling down your cheeks. Aleksander sits down beside you, curling his arm around your waist, and you press the side of your face against his chest.

You reach for Genya’s hand.

“It’s perfect Genya. You should be very proud.”

She smiles, remarking smugly,

“I know.” But she curls her fingers around yours, squeezing softly with understanding, and you realise the double meaning to her words. I know how you feel.

Now you belong.

»»---------------------►

Nikolai appoints you as his royal advisor, and you journey with him and Aleksander to meet with the delegates from Shu Han when you demand a ceasefire between your countries.

In exchange for some of the lands often sought after during the Border Wars, Shu Han agrees to disband any experimentation facilities and instead turn their Grisha over to Ravka.

With an alliance finally formed between two countries known for their almost endless grievances, Fjerda is intimidated.

You and Aleksander work hard to establish a singular Ravkan army, where each regiment contains both the necessary Grisha and otkazat’sya to function more efficiently than ever before.

With healers allowed to work on former First Army soldiers, casualties are reduced by almost half. Fabrikators work on the army’s weaponry to combat the Fjerdan’s machine guns.

Nikolai’s father, Magnus Opjer, wanting to support his son and return to his former lover, gathers supporters for Ravka from within his own country. Nikolai and Aleksander strategise for long hours, well into the night, to orchestrate a Fjerdan coup.

With your new army pushing the frontlines further into Fjerda, and their own people turning on them, they can only hold out for so long.

The day the Fold was destroyed was named the day of Sankta Alina. The day the land of the Tula Valley was revived was the day of the Starless Saint.

The day Fjerda surrendered, and peace was established in Ravka, will be forever known as your saint’s day. The saint of hope, and plans well made.

In reparations, you demand the outlaw of jurda param, the drug that Fjerdan had used to enslave Grisha into creating their weapons. They free all Grisha held in captivity, and Ravka offers rehabilitation for them all. David creates an antidote that cures the addiction ailing the drugged Grisha.

Aleksander is both heartbroken and furious at the sheer number of Grisha that come seeking aid, especially when he sees the toll the drug has taken on so many women and children.

You’re almost as equally upset, pacing and fuming over the length of Nikolai’s study. He doesn’t say anything, allowing you to stew in your anger, and when Aleksander returns you both sit at Nikolai’s table and discuss the reparations.

Aleksander heeds your warnings. Fear will not last as a deterrent. As much as you want to, you can’t punish Fjerda too harshly. It will only cause a greater divide between your people, and will one day become a problem. A problem that you and Aleksander will have to deal with when it accumulates in a few hundred years.

You want this peace to last.

You want to enjoy your time with Aleksander, and for him to live without looking over his shoulder for once.

»»---------------------►

“You know you’re actually quite good at this.” Nikolai remarks as he spins you.

The ballroom at the Grand Palace is decorated with the blue and yellow Ravkan eagle, as well as the white flags of peace.

“I’m choosing to ignore the surprise in your voice, but I will say I’m quite offended.”

“Vasily said you were a poor dancer.” Your brows lift in surprise.

“That’s why he cancelled the engagement?” Nikolai laughs softly, shaking his head. Your expression shifts from feigning offence to something softer. “How is he doing?”

“Good, from what I hear in my mother’s letters. She’s been staying with him for the last few weeks, along with Magnus.”

You nod. Nikolai’s biological father had been instrumental for your victory against Fjerda, and he seemed to be quite happy living in Ravka, reunited with Nikolai’s mother.

The dance comes to an end, and you feel rather proud that you had seen it through with only a minor incident of fumbling with Nikolai’s hands after a spin. He takes your hand, steering the two of you towards the side of the room where you select a drink from a silver tray.

“You should ask Zoya for a dance.” You tell him, taking a sip from your glass. He raises a brow at you, before he glances over at Zoya.

“Is this some sort of subtle assassination plot?” He remarks, but he hasn’t taken his eyes from her.

She’s wearing a gown of deep summoners’ blue, with sparkling silver threads, and a selection of jewels adorning her hair. She already looks like a queen.

“I’m sure you would enjoy yourself. Trust me.”

Nikolai hums.

“Speaking things into existence again?”

“When aren’t I?”

He takes your hand once again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he nods. You bow with a smile as he steps away, and you watch him as he approaches Zoya.

She narrows her eyes at him, but she doesn’t seem annoyed. For a moment, you think her smirk seems almost fond. Then you’re distracted.

You sense Aleksander appearing beside you long before he makes his presence known.

“You’re scheming.” He accuses in a low voice filled with amusement as he presses a kiss against your temple. You look back at him, your eyes widened innocently.

“Scheming? Me?” A smirk tugs at your lips. “I would never.”

Aleksander hums knowingly and he smiles as his hands settle on your waist.

“Of course not, my love, do forgive me.”

You smile back at him, content to be in his arms for a quiet moment. He sways you both lightly to the sound of the music as another song begins, and you spot Zoya and Nikolai at the centre of the dance floor.

“Have you spoken to Alina?” You ask Aleksander. He raises a brow at you, before his eyes shift to filter over the faces in the crowd.

“I wasn’t aware she was here.” You nod.

“She and Mal have come over from Keramzin. The Duke died a few weeks ago, and left the orphanage to the townspeople. Alina and Mal have decided to run it.”

“That’s good of them.”

“Hopefully now there won’t be as many orphans though.” You reason and Aleksander hums thoughtfully.

“Regardless, there will always be children in need of a home.”

His fingers curl around yours, tilting your hand to show off the gold and black ring that sits shining on your finger.

This weekend, as people begin to recover from the festivities, you and Aleksander plan to pack up your horses and leave. Head towards the Tula Valley until you find the perfect spot. A remote field or a small clearing in the woods, somewhere peaceful where you can create a small garland of flowers to surround you both.

There, you’ll exchange your vows and rings. No priest, no guests. Just the two of you, together.

A blissful, sun soaked day, where he is finally yours, and you are his.

Afterwards, once you return to the capital, you’ll sign all the official papers and your friends will likely want to throw an elaborate party.

An excited smile breaks over your face, and Aleksander brings your hand to his lips to press a kiss against your knuckles, his own smile widening as he whispers,

“I can’t wait to marry you in every century.”

His words make you giddy.

“I’m sorry you had to see me be engaged to two other people before you.” You remark and Aleksander’s eyes sparkle with amusement. Then your expression softens, “But my heart has always been yours.”

His smile is bright as he looks at you.

There’s a lull in the atmosphere, as the music stops and people refresh themselves before the next dance. Aleksander’s hands leave your waist as he moves in stand in front of you. He turns, holding out a hand for you to take.

“Shall we?” He asks, tilting his head towards the dance floor. You nod.

As you’re walking through the crowd with Aleksander, you spot two familiar heartrenders. Fedoyr smiles widely at you both, and Ivan gives you a small nod as they walk by you, arm in arm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Alina tugging playfully on Mal’s hand, urging him towards the dance floor. He’s shaking his head at her, but follows all the same with a smile on his face.

She catches your gaze as the two of them get into position several paces away from you and Aleksander. Your smile softens, and you give her a knowing nod. She smiles back. You’re glad she’s happy.

Nikolai winks when he catches your eye, and you raise your brows questioningly at Zoya when you realise they are having another dance together, to which she shrugs lightly with a smirk.

Finally your eyes meet Aleksander’s, as he settles a hand on your waist to pull you close.

Just like your very first dance together, every moment is perfect. Aleksander leads, and you follow his every step. When it comes to the dips and spins, you trust him to keep you secure in his arms.

When you turn, your back pressing against his chest for several steps, Aleksander’s hands are there, ready and waiting for when you return to face him.

The world around you fades away, even the music carrying you seems less important than being able to stare at the man before you, for as long as you like. Admiring the neat trim of his beard, his thick dark hair, soft lips and adoring eyes.

Aleksander’s eyes are all that matters, as they scour over your face, his smile widening when he observes your expression of happiness and contentment.

The first time he had laid those dark eyes on you, nerves and fear were the only emotions you could process. But despite it all, you had trusted him. You had trusted that he would see your knowledge of the future, and your hope for Ravka, as something valuable.

He had.

Through every terrifying and confusing moment of your journey, he had placed his trust in you to know what was coming. In return, he had been your refuge. Someone to teach you horse riding, to comfort you after nightmares. Someone to scheme and plot and share your thoughts with.

Even now, when you have no idea what the future will hold, Aleksander is still holding you as if you are the most precious thing in the world to him.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur

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[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part eleven

pairing: (hinted) kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: netural

el's thoughts: this was the hardest part to write... and the shortest haha but it's here and done so there ya go. please remember to comment and reblog :)

masterlist

The wind made Y/N’s hair dance wildly around her as she leaned her hip against the side of the ship. She had heard all about the uprising privateer’s flying ship but had never got the chance to be abroad. Her eyes closed as she relaxed at the feeling of the cold wind around her. She felt free and untethered while in the air, the same feeling she had felt the first time she rode her horse across the palace grounds. 

She circled around to look across the deck of the ship, mentally doing a head count of everyone on board. Nina stood beside Inej listening to whatever the suli spoke of with much interest. Jesper and Wylan were glued to each other's sides while they looked out at the water, pointing every once in a while to a fish they saw. Toyla stood at the wheel while Zoya paced the quarter-deck before waving her hands every so often to push the ship a bit faster. Kaz sat on the steps up to the quarter-deck with his leg stretched out in front of him, they made eye contact for a moment before Y/N smiled gently and looked away.

“Catch me!” The small voice was heard over the strong autumn winds that blew around them as the young child threw themselves into Y/N’s arms. She laughed and spun her brother around the best a ten-year-old could do to a six-year-old. 

“Oooh a stowaway on my ship?” She bounced him onto her hip to keep him up. He shook his head fervently as peels of laughter fell from his small pink lips. “You know what I do to stowaways?” She spoke in a loud voice making it deeper to fit the character she acted out. The little boy laughed louder, “No! No! Please!” 

“I’m sorry, young man, but it must be done!” She giggled as she tossed him into the giant pile of leaves their father gathered that morning. They both laughed louder as she threw herself down next to him.

The familiar clicking of a cane sounded from behind her and dragged her out of her memory. She didn’t need to turn around to feel him stand behind her. 

“You look better.” His voice was clipped but still seemed kind. Kind enough when coming from the bastard of the barrel that is. 

She scoffed, “What did I look bad before?”

Kaz shrugged, and the corner of his lips quirked upward. “You look healthy.”

She turned bashful now knowing the fact that he noticed her lack of strength the last few days. “I feel better… Must’ve been the hallucination, honestly.” 

“What did your toxin trip reveal to you?” He leaned closer on his cane, hardly noticeable but her sharp eyes caught it—the curiosity in his eyes. The same tiny spark of hope that she felt in her chest reflected in his eyes. But before she could give in and tell him what she saw in the hallucinations the Darkling’s voice echoed in her mind again. And instead of sharing and being open, taking the same step he did, the words that tumbled out of her mouth were the words that had been repeated to her all throughout her years at the Little Palace. 

“Hope is dangerous. Clouds your judgment.”

She didn’t tell him what she saw, how could she? She hardly knows this man despite the fact that her brain thought otherwise. She knows more about him than he knows of her. She’s pieced together some of his past and her heart ached for him. Life wasn’t fair and it was obvious in both of their lives. 

Y/N turned to look up at him as he leaned on the railing beside her. The need to tell him had come back and only grew stronger when she noticed the same curiosity across his face. “The Darkling. That’s who I saw.” It wouldn’t hurt to share some of it. “Reminding me of everything I could never have despite my childish wishes and dreams.” 

“From where we stood it looked like he reminded you just how powerful you are as well.”

She shook her head, “He reminded me of the monster he made me.”

“The Phoenix is hardly viewed as a monster. From what I’ve heard you’re just as much a Saint as the sun summoner. The most powerful inferni to walk the earth.” Kaz didn’t look at her as he spoke, only kept his eyes trained on the sea below them, his voice was almost teasing.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be known as powerful because of my gift or- or because of the Darkling, or because of fear. I… I want to be powerful because I moved forward despite the odds. If people were to fear me, I want them to fear the name I built for myself.” She squeezed the rail under her hand. “I envy you for that reason… if I were to speak honestly.”

This caused him to look down at her, confusion swam in his eyes.

“You created a name for yourself, a name that brings people to their knees.” The pair smirked at the memory of the Dime Lions’ gambling den. “Literally.” 

A warm feeling grew in Y/N’s chest at the easiness of the conversation. There was nothing strange or awkward about talking to him, she felt like she could tell him anything even though she knew it was best not to. She wondered if he felt the same ease of the conversation or if it was all just in her head, but from the look in his eyes and his relaxed shoulders, it was safe to assume he felt it. 

“It’s fake.” A dark look flashed over Kaz’s face as the words fell from his lips. “My name, it’s fake.”

Y/N only nodded, moving so her back was against the handrail. “Kaz is a fake name?”

“Brekker.” His eyes met her’s for a moment before looking away. “Brekker is a fake name.”

She hummed, “We all do things for reasons only we know.” Twisting her fingers around each other, she sighed. “There are plenty of things I’ve done that if I had taken the time to actually think it through… I wouldn’t have made those choices, but in the end I’m standing here today and I wouldn’t be if I hadn’t made thoes choices. So, I wouldn’t change anything.”

“I wouldn’t-” Kaz was interrupted by Toyla shouting that they made it. Inej, Nina and Zoya all walked to one side, waiting for Y/N. 

The inferni gave Kaz a tight smile, “Well, I’m off.” She pulled her shoulders back as she walked to where the other girls stood waiting. 

Kaz watched in astonishment as the girl with whom he had just carried an intimate conversation with slipped back into the formal behavior that came with being a soldier. It was as if she had put back on a stoic and formal front, slipping back into her all too familiar mask. It was as if Y/N had only allowed herself a short break from such a pretense for those few private moments with him.

~*~*~*~

taglist:@rachelcarroll1819 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @khaleesihavilliard @simrah1012 @foulkryptonitepeanut @astridyoo15 @queenofshinigamis @peakyispunk @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @winstonthecow22 @lee-says-things @bunneex @writingmysanity @sleepynightchild @madnessinwrighting @romanticvampire

[naddybln]

Headcanons Grishaverse x reader

- the darkling took you from your parents when you were just about a year old

- you showed your powers early and your parents were afraid of you, just like the rest of your hometown

- growing up in the little palace was fun, everybody loves you

- having lessons with Bagrah were hard but effective

- Bagrah and Aleksander proteticing you at all costs

- Ivan and Fedyor are your male best friends, you are close to them and train with them

- Ivan cracking a smile around you

- Zoya is a little jealous because of your relationship with the Darkling

- she likes you nevertheless

- Genya and you are really close, wanting to spend time with her as often as possible

- trying to encourage her about David

- you offered her to kill the king, she denied it cuz you would get into a lot of trouble

- you visit David from time to time

- him explaining his new inventions

- you got hurt during training once and Aleksander went furious

- threatening everyone around him

- you needing to calm him down and ensure him it was an accident

- him not leaving your side for the first few days

- Genya taking care of you if she has the time

- Zoya might have thought the other Grisha who hurt you a lesson

- Ivan and Fedyor checking in on you multiple times a day and bringing you sweets

- Once you're healthy again you continue your training but this time everyone around you is carful not to hurt you (more like afraid of Zoya and Aleksander)

[bookishbunnies]

Okay. I'm finished. Finally.

I have thoughts. Many.

First, holy shit it's a heckin good time to love Wesper.

And they've clearly set it up for the ice court heist. But, they've fucked up parts. Theyve fucked up the Wesper slowburn, the 'not just girls' scene (which is probably why Kit and Jack did it in the interview). Also kinda fucked up the Kanej slowburn but not as badly. Kinda fucked up the Jesper is a durast thing, but it'll be interesting to see the heist with a Jesper that is proud of his powers and knows how to use them. Interestingly they've still got the Helnik part of the plot pretty much on track.

They've fucked up hopes for Crooked Kingdom. They could still do it sort of. But Rollins position has changed, Inejs position has changed, and they've already used up like half the book.

Tho noticeably they did not say a thing about Wylans family. That is still completely under wraps. And that'll be very interesting to see on screen.

They've also fucked up any hope for King of Scars. Sure they've got the Nikolai part, but my hope for KoS died with David.

All in all, I know a lot of people probably aren't gonna like the last episode and how a lot of different things ended. And I definitely understand that. But more importantly we all want to see the Ice Court heist. So we need to ignore our feelings about how this season ended and stream this season as many times as we can this month to make sure we get the Ice Court heist.

We need to see Matthias and Nina's story play out.

With the changes we might actually eventually get to a healthy Kanej relationship (as healthy as it can be anyway

With the changes it'll mean we get to see many many amazing scenes of Jesper and Wylan, being absolutely adorable and also being absolute badasses and so incredibly proud of each other.

And we might even get to see Zoya and Nikolai.

[ptn-imagines]

i'm afraid i'm the most common type of ptn fan: insanely down bad for zoya, so... nsfw headcanons with f!chief? 🙏 🥹

Oh, I feel you. I've been so incredibly thirsty for Zoya lately that it's not even funny. If the length of these headcanons says anything...

NSFW F!Chief x Zoya

Zoya and the Chief enjoy an incredibly loving and healthy relationship. They adore each other endlessly and are, without a doubt, the very definitions of “soulmates.” They fit together so perfectly that one could be forgiven that they were once one composite being, torn apart by the whims of cruel fate.

Of course, the cute, adoring, romantic side of things is not the only aspect of their relationships. Zoya and the Chief both have healthy sexual appetites that, frankly, neither of them have enough time to satiate as much as they like. They make do with what they can.

Most people who know of their relationship would expect Zoya to be the more dominant partner, and the one “on top.” Most days, they’d be correct, although the Commander of the Legion is no stranger to being a power bottom if the mood strikes.

Even when sex between this pair starts off gentle, it rarely ever stays that way. Zoya’s to blame for that; her appetite for the Chief is truly insatiable, and she can’t resist leaving her marks behind. The Chief is hers, and it’s something she declares to the world with the amount of bruising love bites she leaves all over her lover’s body.

(Or she would, if Chief didn’t just wear concealing clothing and makeup over the bites. One day. For now she’ll just have to content herself with the knowledge that they’re there.)

Sometimes, when lost in the frenzy of passion, Zoya bites down a bit harder than she means to and draws blood. The first time this happened, she was horrified – until she realized that the Chief was blushing and that her gasp of shocked pain melted into a moan. She had liked that!

Zoya is still cautious about intentionally drawing blood, but she does take advantage of this discovered masochism in other ways. She manhandles Chief like a mannequin doll during sex, biting and scratching like a feral animal, and Chief loves every second of it.

(Chief loves this primal side of Zoya – she loves it when her lover flips her over onto her stomach and goes to town with a strap until the pillow is soaked with the Chief’s tears and she’s howling Zoya’s name. Thank god for soundproofing.)

When they’re not so horny for each other that all they can do is fuck each other like animals in heat, Zoya and the Chief are prone to roleplaying in bed. They like recreating their first meeting in various different ways, sometimes involving bondage restraints like rope, handcuffs, gags, and blindfolds, and sometimes not. Zoya likes to tease Chief about how into being kidnapped she is but the truth is, it brings her just the same thrill. It often takes every ounce of her control not to devour the Chief when she looks so cute like that.

What comes as a surprise is that some days, the Chief takes the dominant role in bed. It’s usually the result of a power struggle following one of the days where the Chief isn’t quite in a mood to be submissive and obedient; Zoya actually loves those days and losing excites her. Seeing the fire that blazes in her lover’s gaze in these moments is so fucking hot.

The Chief is the only one Zoya would trust to have control over her, too, and they both know it. The display of trust is something that touches the Chief deeply, and there’s been a few occasions where she’s been so overwhelmed by emotion from that that it’s turned into making out rather than sex. But it does usually end up with them fucking.

Zoya also enjoys being restrained, but not in the same way the Chief does. Rather, the pair have discovered inappropriate uses of the shackles that they are not shy to use; aside from the obvious use of the red thorns as a form of physical restraint, the two have also discovered that it can be used to form an impromptu collar and leash.

The one item of actual bondage gear that typically gets used on Zoya is actually a dog muzzle (designed for humans, of course). She’s super into being talked down to like a feral, mindless animal by the Chief, and while it might seem like such a thing would be beyond the just and upright Chief’s morals, the truth of it is that once she gets into that dominant stride, she’s more than happy to talk to Zoya like she’s her prized mutt.

The aftercare is bliss, and never neglected. For them, it’s typically soaking in a bath together before falling asleep naked in the same bed, limbs entangled, murmuring praise and sweet nothings to each other until they fall into the embrace of Hypnos.

(Zoya is always very disappointed about the fact Chief rarely has time for round two when they wake up.)

[stromuprisahat]

https://www.tumblr.com/lady-a-stuff/711122908909568000/i-think-people-forget-that-one-of-the-main-themes

"people don't understand this book" crowd is always so smug like bro does the author understand her own theme? Because she seems to have completely shat on it in the sequels that follow. Like I'll take this theme as seriously as the author does 🤷.

TGT does have themes, but either badly handled, or fully abandoned (The power of mercy, anyone?!).

"Greed of men" is certainly among the badly handled ones for several reasons:

It's promoted mostly by Baghra- a liar and manipulator, whose teaching technique is abuse and life's goal isn't only inaction, but thwarting those, who refuse to do so.

We're introduced a world with serious socio-economical issues, that cannot be solved by words, hugs and kisses, but political and military POWER.

Said "greed" is often applied to Grisha power, sort of a life-force Grisha need to use in order to remain healthy, yet cannot do so safely unless they have enough to defend themselves. (Sort of the whole point of amplifiers?)

The narrative, represented by Baghra, brainwashes Alina into believing she has to destroy the Fold (in one go) and kill the Darkling, while insisting she's too weak to do so, and she has no other choice but collect all of Morozova's amplifiers like untamed Pokémon.

Alina's made a public figure, then promptly shamed left and right for trying to take control of her own influence. Sun Saint is an acceptable passive symbol, Queenship isn't befitting career for an orphan...

... and then you have that KoS shitstorm- as you mentioned-, when suddenly slightly above-average common Squaller can become immortal, possessing skills of all Grisha Orders, plus very non-natural sciences-based shapeshifting into a purely mythical creature... and greed is no longer an issue.

Maybe because said "benevolent teacher" is six feet under, and Zoya's too arrogant to be so easily bullied as poor, sick Alina.

[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 5

Warnings: canon typical shit, Katya being a feisty little shit

Word count: 1600ish

The next morning you are shown to your rooms. They aren’t as opulent as Alina’s, but you prefer them this way. The bed is still too soft, the sheets too smooth, the pillows too plump, but you force yourself to use them anyway. The wardrobe is stocked with functional clothing and 2 black coats that feel suspiciously like corecloth. You’d like to complain about the color, or at least about the assumption in making most of your clothing black, but it really does suit you, so you hold your tongue.

The next few days are relatively monotonous. Alina trains and you follow her around as often as you can. Usually watching from a distance so she doesn’t feel you hovering. She knows you’re there, though, and will wave when she catches your eye. The change in her hasn’t ceased to amaze you. It’s been so long since she seemed truly healthy and now, all of the sudden, she’s grown and strong and powerful in ways you had only ever been able to dream of for her.

Alina’s confidence is yet another thing you are happy to see improve. She is more sure of herself, of her place in the world, more comfortable in her own skin. You’ll never admit it, but you are grateful to the Darkling for keeping her safe and helping her grow. Arguably much of that change has come from Botkin and Baghra, but you catch the General checking in on her every now and then. Offering words of support, constructive criticism, and even praise. 

You still think he should at the very least be stabbed for this flirtation he has with your sister. She’s far too young for him. For now, you have decided to let the fragile peace remain between the 3 of you. You’ll save the stabbing for another day. So long as he keeps his hands to himself, you will allow him to keep his hands.

Today, you are observing Alina spar with a particularly skilled squaller, one you’ve noticed scowling in Alina’s direction frequently. You’re nearby this time, making small conversation with Botkin.

“Do you fight?”

“Often,” you reply with a grin. He gestures to the training field and you shake your head. “I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“You are afraid.” Botkin states and you have the feeling he’s mocking you.

“It wouldn’t be fair for your students.”

“You would deny them the chance to learn?”

You watch the squaller knock your sister on her ass for the 3rd time today and shrug. “When you put it that way, I guess I have to do it now.”

“Who do you choose?”

“Who’s your best?”

“Zoya.” The squaller sparring with Alina looks up at his words.

“Perfect,” you say sincerely.

The two of you enter the circle drawn in the dirt.

“Kick her ass, Kat,” Alina says in your ear as you pass her. You smirk. This should be fun. Saints know you need some stress relief.

“I do have a few years on you, squaller. I’ll go easy on you.” You can’t resist the urge to taunt Zoya.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re a no-name street rat. I don’t expect it to be much of a fight.” 

You smile thinly, but you aren’t bothered by her words, and strike first. It’s more of a warning shot than anything, you are unsurprised when she dodges it. Zoya swings a fist towards your jaw and you block it with your left forearm, throwing a punch with your right fist. This one lands and she grimaces, recovering quickly, stepping closer to you and hooking a leg around your own in an attempt to throw you. You let her, but use the momentum of the move to continue rolling the two of you until you land atop her, hand resting on her throat.

“Good match,” you offer your hand out once the two of you are standing.

Zoya ignores it and hisses,” Beginner’s luck.”

“If you wanted a rematch, you only had to ask,” you quip with a shrug.

“Ms. Starkov,” The General calls from Botkin’s side. You and Alina both look towards him. “The elder Ms. Starkov.”

“Saved by your General, princess. Next time I won’t go so easy on you.” The look Zoya gives you might be strong enough to kill a lesser woman. 

You join the General and ask, “What do you need? Sir.” You add the ‘sir’ for the sake of appearances and because you know the Darkling will hear its sarcasm.

“Come take a walk with me, Ms. Starkov.”

You wait until the 2 of you are a safe distance away to begin your usual banter. “Are we going to have another one of our ‘chats’ where you ‘don’t’ try to kill me?”

“Baghra is aware of your ability,” the Darkling said, ignoring you.

“You mean you told her,” you say pointedly.

“Yes. She would like to meet you.”

“Oh, excellent,” you say with glee.

The Darkling turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “That is not the reaction I was expecting.”

“I heard she hits students with her cane, swarms them with bees, and other various tortures. I can’t wait to see what she tries with me.” There’s a skip in your step as you turn yourself around so you walk backwards as you speak with the General. “When does she want to meet me?”

“Now,” the Darkling says.

“Today is turning out great!” You exclaim, clapping your hands. “Oh come on, why are you looking at me like that? I like fucking with bullies. It’s one of my favorite, mostly legal, pastimes.”

“I look forward to hearing how it goes, Ms. Starkov,” he says and you swear he’s trying not to smile.

“You aren’t coming with?” You ask as you arrive by Baghra’s hut.

“Your… conversation with Baghra will likely be more productive without my presence. She and I do not see eye to eye on most things.”

“Really? You don’t get along with someone? That’s super surprising.”

“Very amusing, Ms. Starkov,” the General says dryly.

“I try,” you grin and give him a wink before stepping into the hut and closing the door behind you.

The woman in front of you is both ancient and ageless. Her skin is mostly smooth, but her hair is graying, and her eyes have a depth to them that only time can give.

“Have a seat, girl.”

“You wanted to talk with me,” you prompt as you sit across from her.

“Have some tea,” Baghra orders more than offers.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Hm. So you are the woman who claims to be the Sun Summoner’s sister. I must admit, I fail to see the resemblance.”

“We aren’t related by blood, but we are family.”

“I see. You’ve known her for 10 or so years now, and you’ve never told her about your summoning. It sounds like you don’t trust her very much, for family.”

“So this is your angle then?” You roll your eyes. “Trying to drive a wedge between me and Alina, getting into my head. Very original. Do you have any family, Baghra?”

“This conversation is not about me, girl.”

“My name is Katarina, not girl, and this conversation is very much about you. What is it about you that is so broken you want to break everyone else?”

“How dare you?” Baghra spits out sternly.

“Quite easily. If this little chat doesn’t have a real purpose, then I am going to leave.”

Baghra’s posture relaxes slightly. “You aren’t what I expected.”

“Good.”

“The General tells me you are an adequate shadow summoner.”

“Does he really? High praise coming from him.”

“He also tells me you claim to be self taught.”

“I am self taught, unless you know any other shadow summoners besides the Darkling running around Ravka, I didn’t really have any other option.”

“You taught yourself the Cut.”

“Yes.”

“Shadow-walking?”

“Yes.”

“Simultaneous, multi-limbed movement?”

“Yes.”

“Shields, walls, and barriers?”

“I’m still working on those,” you admit.

“Intriguing. I will teach you from now on.”

“No you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like you and I think you are a duplicitous snake,” you respond cheerfully. While Alina may not have picked up on the depths of Baghra’s manipulative nature, you can tell this woman has about a thousand personal agendas just by looking at her. Much like the General, though you find Baghra to be more off putting. 

“You don’t know me, girl.”

“I trust my instincts.”

“Do you truly believe the Darkling to be a superior instructor? That he does not have any ulterior motives for everything he says and does?”

“Oh I’m certain he does.”

“Very well. I will not force you to stay.”

“Good, I don’t do very well with being forced into things.” With that, you get up and leave. You’re surprised to see the General still waiting for you on the other side of the door.

“You’re still here.”

“That was quicker than I expected.”

“Were you expecting me to drink the drugged tea?” 

The Darkling looks surprised. “I was not aware you knew about her tea drugging habits.”

“Alina told me. Don’t you think allowing her to beat, terrorize, and drug your soldiers is a bit much?”

“I admit some of her methods may be extreme at times, but they are effective.”

“If you have to harm a child to teach them, then maybe you aren’t a good teacher.”

“The world my Grisha grow up in is not good or fair, Ms. Starkov. They are in danger from the moment their abilities manifest. Sometimes cruel and extreme measures are needed to prepare them for that reality.”

“It shouldn’t be that way. Grishenka are training to be soldiers from the moment they arrive. No one should have to be concerned about war that young.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” the Darkling agrees, solemnly. “One day, Grisha will no longer need to fear the world around them. They will no longer live to be soldiers.”

“I hope I live to see that day,” you say earnestly.

“You will, Ms. Starkov.”

**********

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

Series Taglist: budugu, stuffyownswrld, judig92, intothesoul

Shadow and Bone Taglist:

Everything Taglist: @kayhi808,

[itsnotunfinisheditsmystyle]

Nikolai time travel fix it!

Crack treated seriously. In the more-or-less far future, the plot of KOS/ROW did not happen but eventually the Blights appears and cause the end of the world. Nikolai manages to get in a time travelling machine at the last minute and goes back to the events of TGT to fix things.

He has come to the conclusion that the best way to avoid the apocalypse is for Alina and Aleksander to have a happy and healthy-ish relationship.

His mission is to get them back together and to not break down every time he sees Zoya (whom he lost in the apocalypse).

He is not very good at either.

“Are you really the prince?!” she called. “How can you be on his side?! He’s the one who poisoned your father!”

“An entirely deserved fate, believe me, also he’s not actually my father, and cholesterol will kill him in about five years even if he survives anyway…”

Amid the Tsar’s envoys outraged screeching, having just gone through a trainwreck of emotions —first terror, then hope upon spotting the prince, and now betrayal— Ivan carefully leaned closer to the Darkling.

"What is cholesterol?”

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐙𝐨𝐲𝐚

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

a/n: honestly ... this is the relationship I want ...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ  

SFW🌿

⭑ At first, it was a love triangle -

⭑ Both Grisha women were vying for your attention, and it was MAYHEM. ANARCHY. CHAOS. 

⭑ Genya would wake up extra early, attend to the queen and then herself (more so than usual-)

⭑ Zoya’s ego seemed to be inflated, while secretly she felt the most insecure she ever had. Which probably is a red flag, but she’s never had to fight for someone’s attention. Not ever. 

⭑ You were confused, completely and utterly. 

⭑ Because there were these two absolutely GORGEOUS women who wanted ... you. And that’s not to say that you aren’t attractive, but this has never happened before. 

⭑ You weren’t the most popular growing up, sports were never really your thing. 

⭑ You knew you liked to make people smile, or laugh, or feel like the world was something worth living for. 

⭑ And that’s what they saw in you - hope. 

⭑ Because just by being around you they felt uplifted 

⭑ So that’s why they fought for your attention

⭑ And I don’t mean squabbaling. I mean ... trying to one up the other. Being more romantic, or being the one to talk to you after training was over. 

⭑ And lets be honest ... it wasn’t the worst feeling. Even though you knew at one point you would have to choose. 

⭑ But one day you were talking with one of your friends and she said, “why choose?”

       “Well... I have to...”

“Who says?”

        “Everyone?”

“Fuck everyone.”

      “I know you do-” you played it off as a joke, not taking her seriously. But that planted a seed in your mind that you couldn’t get rid of. 

⭑ I think Genya would be the first to agree to polyamory. Although she likes to fit in with the people around her, the thought of having more than one person excites her. And Zoya is a very beautiful woman ... Genya secretly had a crush on her for years

⭑ Zoya on the other hand ...

⭑ Well, lets just say she doesn’t share with others

⭑ But no one was pushed into this relationship. 

⭑ There was no rush

⭑ So over time, it happened organically ... you and Genya started the relationship and let Zoya know she could join at any time

⭑ She would point her nose in the air and ignore the two of you

⭑ Until one night, when the moon was high and the Darkling had gone to sleep. She had seen you and Genya kissing, and something inside of her had cracked. Not in a broken way, but in a birthing way - like a bird freeing itself from an egg.

⭑ “Maybe ... this isn’t such a bad idea...” Zoya muttered one afternoon

⭑ Your poly relationship moved around the Little Palace quickly, and I mean ...  very quickly.

⭑ It was hot gossip, and I mean who could blame the other Grisha? Not many exciting things happened at the Little Palace. 

⭑ At one point, when the gossip was at its peak, you thought the Darkling might actually come and talk to you about it. But that never happened. 

⭑ A few days after Zoya said yes, the three of you sat down in the gardens and talked about boundaries. What was appropriate, what you definitely did not want to do. 

⭑ It wasn’t so much as creating a set of rules ... but guidelines that helped keep the relationship positive and healthy

⭑ You’re all a force to be reckoned with ... and in a way, you sort of run the Little Palace in terms of hierachy 

⭑ And Genya is accepted within the ranks. You and Zoya make sure of that

⭑ But she keeps hidden (for now) what the King does to her (she knows that the two of you will ruin him.)

⭑ Zoya always wants to go on fancy dates - chandeliers, makeup, jewelry. While Genya likes being near the water/outside. You love nature, so you had an idea that you would dress up and walk amongst the forest, the trees, the grass. 

⭑ Zoya thought that idea was stupid, until you three actually did it and she felt so ethereal

⭑ SO MUCH SASS ALL THE TIME

⭑ And some people are like, “bro did they really just say that,” and you’re like ??? 

⭑ Absolutely NO ONE fcks with you, (or Genya, or Zoya for that matter.)

⭑ Power houses, because you train together - 

⭑ Oh and no one holds back, so it’s serious training 

⭑ Relationship Tropes: 

  ✧ Rival x Flustered, Never Been Shown Affection x Rival (But both rivals are soft and supportive of one another)

  ✧ Touch Either One Of My Girlfriends And You Die x3

  ✧ Asshole (Genya) x Also An Asshole But It’s Tough To Tell Because Of Their Cute Exterior (You) x Even More Of An Asshole (Zoya)

✧ “Trust Me, Given The Legal Opportunity, I Will Kill You” (Genya) x If It Were Not For The Laws Of This Land, I Would Have Slaughtered You” (You) x “If I Were Not Holy I Would Beat You Senseless.” (Zoya)

  NSFW🔞minors dni!

⭑ They both LOVE TOYS; dildos, nipple clamps etc

⭑ Genya has a HUGE mummy kink, while Zoya has an even bigger daddy kink

⭑ They both love playing with your tits and pulling, biting, licking your nipples

⭑ Have had library sex 

⭑ Sometimes Genya likes to watch as you and Zoya touch each other 

⭑ Mutual masturbation

⭑ “I’ll watch and learn how you like to be touched.”

⭑ Leaving marks on each other to find when getting dressed

⭑ Sex is way more light-hearted and fun than you would think. Zoya can be very serious when she’s trying to seduce you, but paired with Genya as well - you guys cannot help but giggle

⭑ Making out after training, or mid-training - everyone is sweating, their heart-beating fast and no one can stop their desire 

⭑ Probably have been caught a few times\

⭑ Sex is the only time where Zoya lets others tell her what to do - she’s a switch but moreso a sub

⭑ Genya is a dom 

⭑ Aftercare is wonderous. Both Genya and Zoya become very very cuddly, and like to stroke your high and nuzzle into your neck. 

[aleksanderscult]

Do you think zoya was a good partner to nikolai

Uhhh....no.

Cutting with her words, lacks compassion and kindness, offers no comfort. I don't think she would be a healthy partner to anyone. Her violent and uncontrollable temper is code red by itself.

[wafflesandkruge]

so long, we'd become the flowers

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays to everyone!

Zoya has a garden.

It’s a cramped, messy, thing, but it’s hers and hers alone.

She loves the sting of thorns in her skin, the scrape of worn wood against dry skin. When her skin tears and exposes flesh to the winter air, it is a triumph. With every drop of her blood that spills into the soil, she imagines the roots of her flowers absorbing it and growing strong, healthy, alive. The flowers are everything her friends never had the chance to be. 

Sometimes, Zoya wonders if it would be so bad to go out and lay in the middle of it, to close her eyes and let the vines curl over her limbs, to let blossoms bloom from her bones until she was once again with the ghosts she kept as closely as a lover. It would be nice, she thinks. Quiet. 

The man beneath her asks about her family, but Zoya’s lungs are filled with petals and stems and roots where there should be air. She presses her lips to his instead of answering to forget that she needs to breathe. 

In her dreams, the earth cracks open and swallows her whole. The heart of the world welcomes her into its arms; it feels like returning to a home that no longer exists. She does not want to stay, but she cannot decide to leave. Vines wrap around her hesitant limbs, moss creeps over her skin, and her decision is made for her. She wakes up, panting, her mind still moored to a phantom world where dead is alive and alive is dead.

She finds herself wading through the flowers on the nights she can’t sleep, thorns catching at her silk clothes. She pulls weeds. She prunes the leaves. She plants new seeds. The garden grows. The garden grows, and Zoya withers.

The winter is long and bitter.

When it passes, as all things must, Zoya plants a flower for herself.