#Alina shouldn’t be by Mal’s all the time too

[glitter50000]

The double standard that people have for Mal and Alina is certainly something. Like Alina can go for who she wants cause she should be allowed to but if Mal looks or flirts with another girl then he is clearly a womanizer and should not be allowed to date Alina.

[igotanidea]

Empty promises: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N: first of all, sorry to everyone wainting for "Traitor", but I felt the need to write something sad and heart wrenching so here;s that. For now. Angst coming right next. Oh, and you have been warned, this is sad. And got spoilers for ep.4/5.

***

„Alina? Are you decent?” Y/n peeked through the door the very second the queen’s seamstress left the room.

“Y/n! Please, come in. It’s so good to see your face.” Alina struggled in the dress “I wish I could greet you properly but I can’t, quite, move in this.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard some rumors about certain Saint and the outfit trouble.” Y/N laughed wholeheartedly ”I don’t think it’s really your style, no matter what the queen mother may have to say about that. I may have an idea to save you from that torture though. If, you let me, that is.”

“Please. Anything.” Alina shook her head

“All right then. You know, a tailor would probably be better with the fitting, but as an Inferni I can surely give you something to boost your confidence” Y/N started turning around, picking another outfit for sol koroleva.

“Y/N.” Alina said and the timbre of her voice made the other Grisha stop in her track and look up “How… How are holding up? With me and Nikolai….?”

“I’m fine” Y/N assured quickly. Too quickly to make it believable. “I just ….” She sighed deeply, gathering all the strength she had to finish that sentence “I just wish he told me sooner, you know. Not just leave me like that. Given all we have… had….” she corrected and covered a little tremble by coughing “But he just left me as surprised as any other Grisha in the room when he announced your engagement and  it feels like betrayal, Alina. “ she went silent for a minute “but yes, apart from that I am perfectly fine. Now, let’s focus on the suit.”

“Y/N” Alina grabbed her hand gently “I am sorry for what you are going through right now.”

“Well, we all have our burdens to carry, right? I suppose this is mine.”

“I know it does not make anything better, but I know about heartbreak and making tough choices. Nikolai loves you in a way he would never feel about me. And I feel that for Mal. This is all just a political alliance, nothing more.” Alina assured.

“You know, sancta, when Nikolai left to be Sturmhond I spend two years searching for him, east to west and south to north. And when I did and we got together this was the best time of my life. And I shouldn’t have enjoyed the sea so much, but with him, I did.  And even then I always had this little tingling inside my head. A sneaky voice that was telling me, that we would not last. Turns out I was right. And truly, no one is to blame for that.” The Inferni smiled sadly “This should do the work” she raised the garments she prepared for Alina “I should better go before the seamstress came back. Just for now pretend you’ll wear the dress , all right? Can’t show all the cards at once.” And with such words, she left the chamber, unnoticed by anyone.

The next person to come to Alina was not even remotely as welcomed as Y/N. Vasily came for a little chat coated with veiled threat and perhaps a bit of a warning, but Alina was too strong to let him beguile her.

And then, when time came Nikolai appeared at the door for a little pep talk.

“Well, you look lovely” he smiled eyeing Alina already up and ready in her second army regimentals.

“Y/N came and helped me put this little thing together. So much better than….” Her gaze focused on the dress nearby and the girl rolled her eyes.

“She’s been avoiding me.” The prince said sadly “not that I blame her, but how can she not miss my company even a little? Am I so easily forgettable. She really acts like I’ve grown a pair of horns or started breathing fire…..” he tried to keep his cool and joke around but Alina knew him well enough to see through it.

“She’s an Inferni. A little fire could never discourage her.  But she’s hurt. Twice as much since you kept her in the dark about this whole arrangement.”

“I wanted to save her pain. And possibly myself.”

“’You failed at that.” Alina pouted

“Anyway, I got something to complete the look.” He took a step closer and reached inside his pocket retrieving a green gem “the Lantsov emerald….”

“Nikolai, we don’t have to do this, if it’s too hard. “

“Let’s just keep the pretenses up, shall we? Just remember, shall you decide to punch me, you will probably take my eyes out with this on, and I would not like that.”

***

 “Have you seen Mal?” Alina started spinning around, searching for the one face she so desperately needed to see “It’s not like him to be late.”

“Perhaps your little tracker is not such a fan of festivities as you.” Vasily approached the pair from behind, with some drink in his hand and Alina immediately excused herself, leaving two brothers alone.

“You know, my little brother” Vasily started “I always knew you would not end up with that little Inferni. Why settle for a commoner when there’s a living saint in the palace.” He laughed and took a sip on his drink. “now you will get fire from someone else! I’m sure the Sankta had a lot of it, judging by her actions. And Y/N. Waste of time. She was always a challenge, even when she was a kid.”

“Don’t you dare talking about her like this.” Nikolai hissed, but still kept straight face in a prince-like manner

“Why do you even care at this point, brother? From what I know, she’s been avoiding you, am I right? But look” he pointed out in the crowd, where Y/N was talking to Nadia and Tamar, laughing for the first time in a while “she’s right there. Don’t you wanna talk to her. If has any dignity, which I doubt, she would not cause a scene in public.”

Even though Nikolai knew his brother was only goading him, his brain shut off when legs carried him towards the other side of the ballroom, straight to her.

“Y/N.” he spoke and all three girls turned around, each one of them showing different expression. Tamar was curious of what was going to happen, Nadia a bit stressed out about her friend, and Y/N…. Y/N was just in pain and nothing could have hid it.

“Moi tsarevich”  she bowed, avoiding his eyes

“Please, stop it. Can we… can we talk for a minute? Please.”

“We are  not going to interrupt you….”Nadia started, but Tamar was on the other side of the barricade in the matter.

“I will. I’m not leaving her with you in this state, Nikolai. You know, you are both my friends, but she’s the victim not the other way round. “

“Tamar” Y/N put a hand on her shoulder “it’s all right. It will be just a minute to clarify this little misunderstanding . I’ll be with you before you notice I was gone.”

“I still don’t like it…” Tamar muttered, but let Nadia drag her away to have a little chat with Adrik and watch Alina. When they both left Y/N took a deep breath and before Nikolai was able to say a thing she took the lead of the conversation.

“Nikolai. I don’t really think it’s appropriate to leave your fiancé alone. Especially with Vasiliy acting like a predator tonight.”

“Vasiliy is drunk.”

“He’s been drunk since the age of 18. Remember that time when we played a prank on him and had to run through the palace in the middle of the night?” she smiled

“And when we ended up squeezed in the cupboard to avoid his wrath? Yes, I remember that.” Now they were both laughing outloud “I also remember what happened later on….”

“Nik. Stop it” she warned, her cheeks getting a bit flushed. Of course he had to refer to the moment they shared their first kiss “this is not the time or the place.”

“My feelings for you did not change.”

‘And do you think mine did? But you are engaged now. And I get it, Nik, I really do. You did what you though was right, as always and I can’t blame me for that. We are all pawns in this crazy political game and the point is to minimalize the  damage. If that means you getting with Alina then I cannot interfere. I still be there for you both. Even if it is in the sideline.

“Y/N…. I….”

“It’s all right” she raised her hands almost embracing him, but stopped herself in the last minute. “You should probably go join your family, your mother has been eyeing us for a while now and she knows we have past. Can’t risk anyone getting suspicious, right? Moi tsarevich” she bowed and went back to join Tamar, Adrik and Nadia, who pulled her into a hug.

From then on, everything started happening extremely fast. Vasiliy came onto the podium to gave some mockery speech about his brother, the man of the hour, but in the middle of it, Darkling’s shadow monster decided to drop by and well, cause a little havoc, killing the speaker and some other gathered people. It was chaos. Alina, Tamar, Adrik, Nadia and Y/N were trapped on the one side of the room, while the Lantsov (or rather whatever was left of this family) where stuck on the other.

“They have no heart, no pulse, no nothing!” Tamar exclaimed trying to use her heartrender powers

“Every creature has a weakness” Adrik spit, observing the monsters carefully from behind the table they used as some sort of shield, Y/N following in his steps.

“Those are shadows” the girl said “Look, Adrik, you were right, they have to be in their full form to touch and hurt someone!”

Before another shadow could attack Nikolai and his mother, Adrik came from one side throwing a gust of wind his way, Nadia doing the same on the other. Y/N used this as an opportunity to grab a spark from the nearby candle and throw a fireball straight into the middle of it. For a second, when the monster was tearing apart her gaze met with Nikolai’s who was just frozen like a deer in the spotlight.

“GO!” she yelled at him “Take whoever you can and GO!”

“Everyone into the tunnels!” Nikolai ordered, but before he himself rushed off, he just threw one last glance at his one true love and moved his mouth silently.

“Come back to me.”

***

“You three go find Alina, I’ll go check if there’s anyone lost in the corridors to get them to safety” Y/N commanded her friends ready to run the other way

“Have you lost your mind!?” Tamar spit at her “You are not going anywhere alone.”

“I’ll be fine Tamar.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that from you hundreds times before.”

“And I am still alive. A little bruised and scared but alive. Not planning on dying today, I swear. Alina needs you three and there’s no time, so I’ll just see you downstairs. GO!”

***

 She was running one of the palace corridors, stating with the greatest relief that all the Grisha that were not killed were off the palace and probably on the way to the tunnel. She almost reached the entrance, but mere meters before, another shadow monster blocked her way.

“Oh, Saint!” she hissed annoyed and focused her energy to gather just a little bit of flame since sadly, there wasn’t any external source of it anywhere near. It was always harder to get fire from nothing, but it used to work for her. Most of the times.

Not this one.

The fire that came out of her hands were so weak it barely reached the shadows let alone cause them any harm.

“Oh, shit…” she mumbled when darkness enveloped her whole and tried once again, this time fueled by fury and worry about her friends. Maybe Tamar was right and she shouldn’t have left them. Nonetheless that was not the time to dwell on the past mistakes, since it was extremely hard to breath inside that fog the monster were created from. It was like all of a sudden she found herself in the fold again, broken and scared. “Hell no! I am not dying today” she put her hands up causing a flare and dissipated the shadows finally getting herself free.

If only it wasn’t for that cut with sharp, thorn-like edges on her  leg, which she did not notice or feel.

***

“Is everyone safe?” Nikolai came from one entrance to the tunnels, meeting with Alina and Tamar coming from the opposite.

“Adrik got hurt in the arm, Nadia is with him.” Alina explained “the healers are taking care of the injured. What about the ones you came with?”

“Saved as many as possible” Nikolai turned around “where is …..?”

“That idiotic girl left us and came for the rescue. I told her she should not….” Tamar’s voice broke a little

“Where is she, Tamar?!”

“We… We don’t know…..”

“I’m here!” all the emotions he felt upon hearing her voice where just too much to handle and not caring about anyone  or anything or whether he was acting like an engaged prince he took off running towards her, wrapping arms around her and pulling her close to his chest.

“You’re safe, love. You’re safe.” He whispered again and again caressing her back, tangling fingers In her soft, messy hair and just getting lost in her.

“Nik…” she gasped taking a sharp inhale “I… I don’t really feel so good….” She stumbled a bit and this made him worry.

“I know, darling, but you were so brave up there. You saved my life with that little trick of yours. And you always said you couldn’t do fireballs. Guess me being in danger enhanced your…..”

“Nik, I really do not feel good” she mumbled and all her strength suddenly left her when her legs gave up and she collapsed into his arms, the embrace being the only thing shielding her from falling straight to the ground.

“Y/n? Come on, tell me, what is it, where does it hurt?” he started panicking just in the slightest.

“My leg….”

“May I?” he hesitated before lifting the material of her pants.

“Saints! Stop being a gentleman now! ” Tamar hissed and started tearing the pant-leg “I wish you were this polite at all those night on the ship instead of giving the crew sleepless nights “Oh….”

“How… how bad is it?” Y/N asked, raising her head from where It laid on Nikolai’s chest and he quickly turned her head away.

“It’s gonna be fine” he assured, grabbing her righter and kissing her temple “I’ll get you to a healer, all right?”

“Mhmmm……” she mumbled, slowly losing consciousness.

“I’m gonna lift you now, ok?” one of his hands sneaked around her back, the other went below her legs when he moved her from the ground “you’re gonna be ok, just don’t close your eyes, love.”

Out of instinct Alina wanted to join them on their walk to healers, but Tamar stopped her.

“Don’t” she shook her head, eyes a bit glassy.

“No.” Alina just stated. “Please tell me it’s not….” bus since Tamar was a heartrender there was really no point in arguing.

***

“Nik…. You smell so good.” Y/N hid face in his chest, locking arms around his neck

“I am all sweaty from the fight and running, honey. As much as I love what you are saying I do not smell good.”

“You smell like the ocean.” She smiled lightly “Like the sunny day on volkvolny”

“We’re going to have a thousand more of such days so you could dwell on the smell.”

 “I…. I don’t really think so, Niki.” She hissed in pain when he reached one of the makeshift flop and called upon the healer

“Always a joker, aren’t you?”

“I wish” she started coughing, a little blood appearing on the hand she tried to cover her mouth with. “Tell me the truth, Nik. How bad is it. Cause it hurts like hell.”

“I don’t want to look. I;m not a healer, I don’t have any experience…..”

“You…” she gasped “are a trained soldier. You know about wounds. Tell me.”

“It’s not good” he closed his eyes almost like those words caused him unimaginable pain and grabbed her hands. “but the healers…..”

“The healers have too much work on their hands. And judging by your voice….” She coughed  a bit more

“Sh, don’t say anything more. Let me just… Grigori!” he called upon one of the corporalki “she needs help.”

“Immediately, moi tsar” Grisha answered and it was probably the first time Nikolai realized that he was the king now.

“Moi tsar” Y/N smiled faintly “it suits you so well, lapushka. Auch! It hurts….”

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wound is unusually deep and it seems like there’s some kind of venom in your veins, going straight to the heart and…..” Grigori started slurring

“There’s nothing you can do, right?” she asked simply

“I’m so deeply sorry, Y/N, moi tsar.”

“Not your fault.”

“Leave us.” Nikolai hissed through gritted teeth and Grigori practically run away trying to avoid king’s fury “Y/N….” he leaned toward her, cupping her pale cheek and caressing it gently “I don’t want you to go….”

“Selfish. As usual. You don’t want me to go, mhm. Do you think I…. auch, want to die like this?”

“I need you with me….” He kissed the top of her head

“Selfish. Again. You got the sun summoner now."

"You are my sun."

"Stop flirting with me on .... on my .... death.... deathbed" she squirmed trying to lift herself up but it was too painful “Help… me….” She panted and Nikolai grabbed her waist with one hand and supported her back with another “I don’t have much time left… I feel it almost in my heart….”

“I don’t want to go on without you.” he whispered

“I know.” tears started showing in her eyes and he wiped them away breathing heavily “I’m scared Nik” she admitted trembling “I feel so cold. Can you just hold me? I don’t….” she gulped “I don’t want to go alone….”

“I’m here with you. No matter where you go, afterlife, I will find you, I swear.”

“Not if…ekhem! Oh, saints, it hurts so much” she cried and his heart broke at that sobbing coming from her. The sounds he would never recover from. Reminded that he failed to protect the only person he ever truly loved. And to think she was dying in his arms, while he was about to marry another woman. This was like a punch in the guts “not if I hunt you first.”

“I love you” he just had to say it. Maybe it was selfish again, but he needed to know that were the last words he said to her “I love you and I will always love you.” he kissed her knuckles, looking straight into her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Nik. And I’m sure you will….” Her voice was becoming so small, so quiet, almost audible in all commotion “… have a long, happy and fulfilled life. You’ll be great king. And a father…. I….” she closed her eyes “I’ll see you later, Nik…..” and just like that there was silence.

And this was the exact moment Tamar clenched her fist and faced the wall, her back to other Grishas so no one would see single tear falling from her eye.  

She said she’ll be fine…….  Empty promises always hurt the receiving end  of those.

***

“Nikolai? We need someone to get everyone together and ….” Zoya was blissfully unaware of the tragedy that just fell upon the king and was her usual self when she entered the part of tunnels were healers were stationed “what… what happened?”  she stuttered at the view in front of her eyes.

Nikolai was not a king at the moment. He was just a broken man who just lost the love of his life. Not crying, just sitting next to her still figure, holding and caressing her cold hand, unable to stop. Almost like he was in a trance. For what he cared the world could stop spinning and it would not make any difference for him. But for her…. He was going to do anything to avenge her death. But he would do that in a second, for now, he just wanted and needed to stay with her a bit more, even if that meant just watching her face, surprisingly peaceful and running a hand through her hair.

If only he could indulge in that greedy need.

“Goodbye, my love….” He whispered planting one final kiss on her forehead and tugging at his hair stood up to protect and guide his people, his subjects.

[heliads]

Oh! maybe an alina starkov x fem!reader?? it doesn't have to be a big deal, just one where alina and reader enjoy an afternoon together after the end of ruin and rising, thinking about when they came to be together and how much it was all worth it. maybe reader is a healer so she can take care better of the orphanage kids

anything for my favorite saint

masterlist

When you close your eyes, you can still see the ghosts. Hear them, too. They scream more than they speak. Most of the friends you’ve ever had ended up dead before they really got a chance to live. Is that their fault for not trying hard enough to make it through the war, or is it your fault for surviving when they didn’t?

They’ll be gone when you wake up. You’re vaguely aware of this, but not enough to force yourself out of the nightmare now. After all, where else would you see all of the people you’ve lost? When you dream, you dream of how they died, but sometimes you see older memories too, back when everything was still a little bit alright and they could smile more than they didn’t.

The nightmare ends soon enough. Your eyes fly open, your heart beating fast in your chest as you look around. You force yourself to follow your normal nighttime routing before your panic grows uncontrollable. Look around you– familiar four walls, sturdy ceiling. This is not the Little Palace, this is not the duke’s orphanage at Keramzin. Not the old one, at least.

This is the place that has become your home once again. You are here because the war is over. Once the Darkling died and the Shadow Fold fell, Alina Starkov offered you a chance to rebuild, one place at a time. The orphanage was her first choice, and it was yours as well. She gave Mal Oretsev the same chance, but he hadn’t yet seen his fill of the world. You have no idea where he is now; Kerch, perhaps, or some other distant corner of Ravka or another nation, but he’s happy, at least, and you’ve long since learned that matters more than anything else.

The new orphanage is yours and Alina’s, then. That’s the way it was at the start. Alina showed up first, then you, then Mal. You left it first, though. Before the Grisha tester came around to Keramzin, before she saw something in you that she shouldn’t have, you had almost liked it there, as much as any orphan could love a cold hall that was never quite warm enough to be home.

All good things come to an end, though, even the times that are only half-good. Suddenly, you had gone from spending your days and nights attached to Alina by the hip to being completely separated from her. They took you away from Keramzin to learn the Grisha arts in Os Alta, and they say you did not stop weeping for the friend you lost for a month, at least.

Alina confessed to you later that she thought you would have forgotten her at the Little Palace. You were only at the orphanage at Keramzin for such a short time, and Os Alta had far more marvels than little girls in dark halls could ever offer you.

This, you have told her on several occasions, could not be further than the truth. You never lost sight of your best friend, not when they dressed you in Corporalnik red and trained you to be a Healer, not when the years flew by and people started thinking that you’d always been in Os Alta and never anywhere else.

You certainly didn’t forget her when she showed up years later, lost in rumors that she might be the Sun Saint come to save you all. You had flown into her arms the second you were able, and you saw it in her eyes even then, how the fear left her in a flash. Alina knew she would be safe so long as you were with her. No harm could come to either of you if you were together again.

This only ended up being half true. Harm and danger have gotten to know both of you quite well indeed, but you survived the war. Now, you’re back to the way it was again– Alina without her powers, you still with yours, and both of you returning to Keramzin to start the orphanage up again after the Darkling had razed it.

You had never intended to return. They told you that you were capable of amazing things, that you were destined for big crowds with shiny trappings. Miracles only come to the powerful, and a quiet afterlife isn’t encouraged in Os Alta. They had managed to persuade you that you were only so good as your gifts, and you believed them.

You believed them, then it destroyed you piece by piece, and the world took it upon itself to fix that. And so you find a girl, and you let her into your heart enough to convince you to leave your entire world behind. You learn what love is, you learn that love shouldn’t be dependent on what you can achieve as a Grisha but you, only you. You help her create an orphanage. You care for the children who wander your way. It is a life, and it is a good one. Sometimes, you think it’s better than you deserve. You let the girl assure you otherwise.

And now? Now, you’re happy. You watch the sun rise and fall over the hills, and you remember watching Alina summon the sunlight for the first time. It had been marvelous, and she had looked over her shoulder for you the second she did it. It was you and her, forever and always. Even when neither of you were Grisha. Even when you both were. Even now, when you are but she isn’t.

Alina says she doesn’t miss her powers, but you’ve seen the way she watches you when you’re healing kids in the medical wing. For someone who claims she’s perfectly happy to remain human, her eyes linger on how your hands flex and move whenever you use your Corporalnik abilities. At her sides, her fingers always twitch, as if remembering how to call forth a power that no longer answers to her.

You want to offer the use of your abilities, to see if you can heal her enough to potentially give her back the capacity of summoning sunlight again. You think she wants to ask too at times, but both of you are too afraid to imply that there is something broken in her that is fixed in you, and so the quiet ones stay silent for now, at least.

The ceiling over your head feels a little too low, too controlling, so you dress quickly, slipping out of your room under the dim light of dawn. Most of the kids won’t be awake for another few hours, so you won’t have to worry about disturbing them. They’re well behaved kids anyway. They know what it’s like to lose a home, so they’re not that inclined to mess up this one with a few bad choices.

You slip out the back door and into the stands of wild grass. Every time you walk into this meadow, you almost think it’s a dream. You saw it often enough whenever you closed your eyes back at the Little Palace that actually being able to return has never quite been able to seem like anything other than an impossibility.

It has changed since you were a child, obviously. Most of the grass burned away when the Darkling destroyed the orphanage, and it’s slow in coming back. The trees have been blighted, but they’re getting better. We are all getting better.

You take a few steps more then pause, cocking your head to the side as you register the sound of heartbeats emanating from the ground a few paces away. You follow the beating until you come to a stop in front of a young woman lying on her back in the grass. Her eyes are closed, but she still smiles when she says, “I knew you’d find me out here.”

You smile back and take a seat on the ground next to her. “It’s your favorite spot, Alina. Where else would I look?”

Alina cracks open her eyelids enough to glance up at you. “Consider me overly nostalgic, then. Can you blame me? It’s quiet out here.”

You chuckle softly. “I know. I remember it being louder, though. Maybe there were more birds or something.”

“Or maybe we weren’t out here at dawn. We slept in more often when we were small,” Alina retorts.

There’s a silent despair in those words. You could sleep more when you were little because you had far less to fear. The only people you had lost were your parents. Now you have buried far more than just two people, and your sleep suffers accordingly.

That time has passed, though. There will be no more conflict, not for either of you. Not if you have your way with it.

“Still,” you whisper, “it’s a nice place.”

Alina hums in agreement. “We used to come out here all the time, didn’t we? You and me and Mal.”

Obnoxiously, your mood sours at the mention of Mal. He was your friend too, but you always liked Alina more, and you always feared that she would in turn prefer his company. You certainly heard enough rumors of Alina’s boy back home when she first came to the Little Palace. You had assumed those rumors were false when she chose to live at the orphanage with you instead of him, but your insecurities always choose to argue that whenever you think of him.

You sigh. “Mal wasn’t the only one in that meadow, you know.”

Alina sits up on her elbows, tilting her head back so she can stare at the brightening sky. “I know. Sometimes it was just us.”

You keep your eyes focused on the grass in front of you. “To me, it was just us.”

“It was the same for me,” Alina replies. 

You risk a peek her way and realize that she’s smiling. It’s the same soft smile she always wears with you, the one that tells you that she’s finally let her guard down. She never quite had it with Mal, but she had it with you. Always with you. There’s a reason for that, you know. There’s a reason for that, if you care enough to look.

And when have you not cared enough about Alina? She was your sun to orbit ever since the very first day you arrived at Keramzin. You have needed her every day of your life, and now you have her now, you have her forever. If you do not use the time you have, it will be wasted, and you have lost enough years to blood and bone to frivolously use up any more.

“I love you,” you say suddenly.

Alina goes quiet. At last, she looks at you, and says, “I love you too. I always have.”

“I know,” you tell her, “I know.”

You do. You know everything about Alina. And, the reason you stayed with her, the reason you left the rest of the Grisha to come home with her, the knowledge that she loved you just as much as you loved her, even if neither of you had properly addressed it. There was no reason to say such an obvious truth, not then. Still, it’s nice to hear it now.

Alina reaches through the struggling grass to take your hand. She passes her thumb over your knuckles as if to say:  here are your hands, which have cost lives and given them back, which have fought in wars and won them, and I want them anyway. There is no part of you that Alina does not want, even the quiet voices and the dark, looming memories. All of it is beautiful to her. It could be naive, or it could just be the love of someone who has known you all your life and understands enough to want to keep you in hers.

You can hear the distant sounds of the children starting to wake, how the laughter and voices begin to trickle out of the windows and doors. The sun rises on a new day, a good day, and you breathe in the gentle heat of the morning. There is much to do, but that is not a bad thing. Not at all.

requested by @cassiecrown, i hope you enjoy!

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all tags list: @wordsarelife

[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 2

Warnings: mentions of violence, The Darkling

Word count: 1200ish

“How were you missed by the testers?” That’s the first question he asks you. Not entirely what you had expected.

“The same way Alina did. I taught her how to do it. All it takes is a little pain to fool most testers.”

“You kept her from me?” The Darkling asks in carefully controlled anger.

“I didn’t know what she was, just that she felt different. I kept a young girl from being sent off to war,” you correct.

“But you knew what you were by then. Didn’t you?” It’s not a question.

“Yes.” You began summoning somewhere around 6 or 7, old enough to know about Grisha, too young to really understand. Your parents did, though. They seemed to think beating you would get rid of the ‘Black Heretic’s Corruption’. It didn’t. Instead it made you sneaky, controlled, hyper aware of the people around you and resistant to pain. You learned to use your summoning in small, less noticeable ways. You could pick a lock without moving your hands, tie a note in a rope you couldn’t see, stitch torn clothing to appear temporarily mended. You could even sink yourself into the shadows and out of sight. 

“How long have you known?” A question you don’t want to answer.

“Since I was a child.”

“And your family? The people you were born to, did they share the same ability?

“No.”

“Surely someone would have spread the news of a new shadow summoner not of my line. You hid from my testers, but how did you hide from the rest of Ravka?”

“Carefully.”

“Are you being willfully obtuse or are you just dimwitted?” The insult is said evenly, testing the waters.

“It would be so much easier for you if it was the latter. Wouldn’t it?” You grin.

“Too easy, I suppose,” he murmurs. “How did you come to arrive at the orphanage?”

“I ran away from home at 12. Living on the streets was dangerous. I chose the safety of the orphanage until I aged out.”

“Why did you run?”

“Why do you think?” You snap. He raises an eyebrow both in question and warning. “A Shadow Summoner born into a non Grisha family who lived their life within sight of the fold? I was lucky they didn’t burn me the moment they first saw me summon.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t continue to pry, you don’t know how much you could stand to tell him tonight. Instead he asks a question that fills you with shame. One of the rare things in life you regret. “Does she know?”

“No, I plan on telling her tonight. Granted that you hold true to your word, of course.” You really shouldn’t be taunting a man who has decades of summoning practice on you. You honestly don’t know how old he is, rumor has it he’s over a century. His face is young, but his eyes have a depth to them you haven’t seen before. 

The Darkling pauses to think for a moment before saying, “No. It could be advantageous to keep your summoning secret for the time being.”

“I’ve kept it a secret from her for long enough. It’s bad enough that I told you first, she’s going to be livid.”

“Be that as it may, having the element of surprise may help you keep her safe. Would it not?”

“Don’t you pull that manipulation bullshit on me, Shadow Man. Unless you give me a specific reason and a timeline, I am telling her tonight.”

The Darkling glares at you, likely for both your attitude and nickname for him. It’s honestly one of the more attractive ones.

“Give me a week. I would like to appraise your capability for myself, in private. At that point, we can discuss whether or not to tell the younger Ms. Starkov and, consequently, the rest of Ravka.”

“Tell me what happened to the letters Mal and I sent and it’s a deal,” you counter.

“They were read and burned.” He’s direct and emotionless.

“Read by whom?” Your voice is almost a growl. Saints, this man is a piece of work.

“Me.”

“So you read me begging my baby sister to let me know she was okay, for months, and didn’t allow any communication to get through?” Your voice is a viper’s hiss, the warning before a strike. The room darkens and you aren’t sure which of you is causing it this time.

“It would have been a security risk to allow communication between the three of you.” He’s unphased. You’re angry, abnormally so. Usually you have a tight grip on your temper, but you have spent months trying to get to your sister. Weeks of searching for news, only to find out she’s been presented at the Grand Palace upon arrival. You had tried to get into the Little Police the official way multiple times and you had been denied. At this point, Soldat Sol was becoming an increasing noise in the ears of the people. You chose to take some time evaluating the threat before you essentially turned yourself over to the most dangerous man on the continent. You had killed to protect her, taking out the most vile of the cult, the ones who would see her sacrificed to the fold. You would do it again in a heartbeat. You had little remorse for people who would so easily harm a child. Alina may be of adult age, barely at that, but she was still so young and naive to the ways of the world.

“Bullshit, Darkling. You wanted her isolated, no friends but the ones you allowed her. You wanted her to come to you, before anyone else. I heard about the ambush and your dashing rescue on the way to Os Alta. I wouldn’t be surprised if you arranged that to make yourself her hero,” you spit.

The Darkling’s shadows fill the room. His dark feels different from your own, but familiar in a way you can’t place. You can still see him through the dark and you watch him stalk towards you. You hold your ground and show no fear. You know he won’t kill you. That would ruin whatever trust he’s built with Alina. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your fear.

“I have never and will never put Alina in harm's way. I have protected her from the King, the court, radicalists, fanatics, and assassins. She has been fed, sheltered, and taught. Her wasting sickness healed. In all honesty, what can you do that I cannot?”

He’s within arm’s reach, staring down his nose at you, but his towering form doesn’t deter you as you answer, “I can keep her safe from you.”

You were surprised he had let you go so easily after that. Alina had been biting her nails when you opened the door. The Darkling announced his decision to let you stay, adding that he would like to take some time to get to know the Sun Summoner’s sister and that he would come to you tomorrow afternoon. Alina was excited to share everything with you and she chattered well into the night about her new friends, her lessons, her squaller arch nemesis, and the heart render she had yet to make smile. You were exhausted from the day, but you couldn’t interrupt your sister. She looked so healthy, so bright. Like she held the sun under her skin. She was happy, you realized. You would do anything to keep her like this. If anyone deserved to live a good life, it was her.

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

@kayhi808, budugu

[jomiddlemarch]

what it is to be a thin crescent moon

Chapter 29

It came to Alina, suddenly, the way a cup overfilled overflowed, that everything she knew about merzost was wrong. It followed, with the subtlety of sugar stirred into tea, that everything Aleksander believed about merzost was wrong. Between the two of them, her studies and his experience, they encompassed virtually the entirety of the body of knowledge on merzost. The realization was so daunting, so dazzling, that she couldn’t help speaking aloud.

“Everything we know about merzost is wrong.”

Her voice was pitched quietly for the Library, but it seemed to ring in the space. She was sure to disturb anyone who might be reading or walking through the stacks. As it was, there was only Togtuun at their desk who looked quite the farthest thing from disturbed. They rose, their chestnut brown kefta unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a necklet of enameled links in a style Alina had never seen at court, among the Grisha or even on the otkazat’sya in Os Alta.

“I shouldn’t say it took you long enough, when you have gotten further faster than anyone before you,” Togtuun remarked. They sat down across from Alina, resting a slender hand on the table top; Alina was convinced that beneath their kefta, Togtuun had crossed their legs with the sly grace of a courtier. There was nothing avid in their gaze, but some warmth was there that did not call its power from light or pressure.

“But you’d like to,” Alina replied.

“I haven’t been impatient as much as hopeful,” Togtuun said.

“You’ve been a little impatient I think,” Alina said. It was a relief that Togtuun could be so, when Alina would have said their chief attribute was a certain unbreachable remoteness.

“Perhaps a little,” Togtuun said. “Perhaps far too much, but there have been too many interruptions, too many difficulties that you have had to deal with, and the bond between you and the Shadow Summoner has been…unanticipated.”

“You didn’t think we’d fall in love,” Alina said, when it was clear that Togtuun would not offer an explanation without prompting. It startled her to hear the words she’d chosen instead of either other constructions she might have said, that she’d fallen in love with Aleksander or he with her, though she wouldn’t speak of it to him over their blessedly herring-less dinner; it would unsettle him now as it wouldn’t in a decade, when he would smile, curious, or in a century, when he would grin over it.

“Not so easily. So completely,” Togtuun said. “I suppose that time you spent alone in the woods was an idyll, a recalibration.”

“Both of us nearly died, several times,” Alina said. “It wasn’t a romantic tryst with moonlight and loads of silk cushions and wine flagons with platters of grapes heaped about everywhere. It was freezing and there were so many lentils, it beggared belief.”

“How disappointed General Kirigan will be,” Togtuun said.

“To hear me speak the truth? He’d never be disappointed by that,” Alina replied.

“To have missed your description of a perfect tryst,” Togtuun said. “He would never have guessed you felt so strongly about grapes.”

“I thought the grapes were part of the standard Grisha seduction,” Alina said, seeing Mal’s face as he tossed her a few after his evening with Zoya. Decadence hadn’t suited him and she’d had no appetite then, but she remembered the scene so vividly, she had to pity her former self.

“You were wrong about that as well,” Togtuun said. “But that doesn’t matter.”

“And merzost does,” Alina said, as she was supposed to. It could be this way with Togtuun, a lesson that became a dance, a debate that became a puzzle, an embroidery, Togtuun’s gifts those of a Durast and an Alkemi, with a quality all their own, a quicksilver manipulation of thought instead of particulate energy or matter. Alina couldn’t guess when a conversation would proceed in this fashion with the Librarian, but she’d learned to be watchful and ready; she’d learned that Togtuun would not scold her if she made a misstep or birch her if she fumbled, but their praise was nothing like Aleksander’s nor Master Botkin’s.

“It does,” Togtuun agreed. “Tell me what you know.”

“So you can tell me if I am right?” Alina said.

“So we can make the next leap,” Togtuun said. Their face was so serious, so open and unreadable, the wisdom that of the ancient fern and its freshest, furled fiddlehead. “It wasn’t only General Kirigan who has needed you for a time beyond time, Starkova Kirigana.”

“I hardly think you need me to solve the mysteries of merzost,” Alina said.

“You’re the only one who has questioned Morozova’s texts since the Little Palace was founded,” Togtuun said. “Most of the Grisha quail at the least mention of merzost.”

“That seems, well, foolish,” Alina replied.

“The otkazat’sya do not have a monopoly on folly. And the Shadow Summoner has impressed upon the younglings that they risk the gravest harm to themselves and their fellows should they peer into the abyss,” Togtuun said.

“‘Peer into the abyss?’ That has got to be a direct quote from Aleksander,” Alina said, shaking her head in fond exasperation. “He can be so dramatic, I think sometimes he’s really missed his calling and he should be writing three-act plays for the Imperial Theater and shouting at the lead actress that she has put more feeling into her monologue. Simply exploring whether the theorems about merzost are valid isn’t dangerous. It’s more dangerous not to, to just accept that whatever Ilya Morozova wrote was sufficient and correct. And it wasn’t as if there aren’t other people who considered the possibilities.”

“No one reads those books and treatises,” Togtuun said. “A very few have begun and none have finished. I had hopes of Kostyk, but his small Science has compelled him elsewhere.”

“I think David has some idea. About merzost and that we’re wrong about it,” Alina said.

“Perhaps. He knows Kirigan would not listen to him though, not in the way he would need to be heard,” Togtuun said. “And he doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t trust many people. Probably because Dame Baghra tortured him,” Alina said. She thought the Librarian might argue the choice of words, but evidently the one constant in the world was that everyone knew Dame Baghra to behave monstrously. Togtuun sighed, just a little, and Alina decided not to try and interpret the meaning behind that soft breath, softly released.

“You do, though. And now, you will trust me enough to tell me what you have discovered,” Togtuun said, making the words tremble between question and command. There was a trick to it that Alina wasn’t sure she would ever master herself.

“Morozova conceptualizes merzost in material terms, the power and the sacrifice needing to be balanced on a scale, as if he were bartering for a sack of flour with the miller,” Alina said. “There is only duality, good and evil, dark and light, whatever is taken must be paid for and the transaction, the act of payment itself, is inherently wrong. To desire is wrong, to fulfil desire is wrong, to be satisfied and whole an impossible state. I’d almost pity him if he hadn’t cocked everything up so terribly and caused such torment.”

“You mean in the Shadow Summoner,” Togtuun said.

“Aleksander, yes, of course, but he’s not the only one who’s suffered because of Morozova’s errors,” Alina said. “So many lost, so many incomplete. Such a waste—”

She broke off, aware that whatever she meant by the word would pale in comparison to the comrades and friends Togtuun had seen maimed or killed, exiled or enslaved, feeling impossibly young and far too authoritative. Togtuun saw it and as was their wont, exercised the most pragmatic mercy.

“What is right?” Togtuun asked. “If we agree Ilya Morozova was wrong, how should we understand merzost?”

“I think…I think understanding merzost is comprehending the incomprehensible. I know, that sounds specious and silly and anyone else would tell me it’s a load of Volcra shit, in varying degrees of politeness, but I think there is no direct way to understand merzost. It’s unconfrontable…it requires you to occupy a liminal space, present and ephemeral, approaching and waiting. It’s about potential and how it can tip into being. And also, there is a tremendous amount of mathematics built into it,” Alina said. “I can’t emphasize that part enough, because I nearly went mad trying to get some of the equations to work out.”

“A pity Ninochka was not here sooner. She has a particular facility in that area, though few realize it,” Togtuun remarked, a bit of astonishing information shared casually, as though Alina would not remember that Togtuun was nearly always imperturbable but never casual, never speaking without some greater purpose. She would not care to face Togtuun across the shatranj board.

“You said, once I told you what I’d learned, there could be a next leap.” Alina wouldn’t have referenced an abyss, but her sense of what lay ahead was indistinct, misty instead of dark, though dangers could easily hide within both obscurities. She’d only ever been a mediocre map-maker, but she still trusted a map, a bottle of ink, the squinting in the distance required for leagues and mountains, the key etched into the bottom left corner.

“Merzost may be used to serve our purposes,” Togtuun said.

“There’s a lot to unpack there,” Alina replied. “May and not can or will. Who is included in our—you and I alone, General Kirigan? The Grisha as a people or only those in the Little Palace? And what are our purposes? Do you mean to use merzost defeat Prince Nikolai and his coup?”

Togtuun laughed. There was delight in the sound and pride. Relief and trenchancy. And power, a power that came neither from light nor darkness, not from release or restraint, but owed something to the vastness of the ocean Alina had never seen herself and the space between notes in a chord.

“Nothing so little as an overthrown coup. We might change the world, Starkova Kirigana. But only if you will allow it. And that demands we work in secret, within silence. That liminal space you have discovered you create,” Togtuun said.

“In secret? You mean I have to lie to Aleksander,” Alina said.

“Shall we philosophize over omission and falsehood? I’m sure it would prove an interesting discussion, but there will be other costs,” Togtuun replied.

“He’d try to stop us. Me,” Alina said.

“Naturally,” Togtuun said. “Would you keep him from hurting himself, if you could?”

“I would. I have done, since he rescued me,” Alina said. “He makes it very hard though.”

“It would not be forever, I think. There would be a time when you could tell him. When we would need him,” Togtuun said.

“He will be very angry. Even if it’s not a long time,” Alina said, seeing his face, the bleak expression that would twist his lips. The way his shoulders would rise and his kefta billow, a second shadow meant to demonstrate his wrath, his need to be concealed.

“Less than you imagine,” Togtuun said. “And between you, there is a communion that cannot be compromised. He will know without knowing and once he realizes that, it will not be a matter of forgiveness, but only wonder.”

“Only wonder? Aleksander is not capable of unalloyed marveling,” Alina said.

“You haven’t seen him watch you when you Summon,” Togtuun said. “Or when you laugh.”

It came to Alina that perhaps Togtuun was, among many other things, a Heartrender, but one who worked not directly upon flesh, their aim unerring, unsparing.

“You said nothing as little as an overthrown coup. But that would be included, right?” Alina asked. “We would remove Prince Nikolai as a current and future threat.” She didn’t specify what remove meant and Togtuun wouldn’t ask for clarification.

“You won’t care about something so small if we succeed,” Togtuun said.

“I’ll always care about something small. I’ve been little all my life and I know not to underestimate small things,” Alina replied.

“Like lentils,” Togtuun said, fluttering the fingers of their left hand in a way that recalled the spill of the beans, the ticking they made against each other like seconds passing.

“If I ever become a Sankta, I guess that’s what I’ll be the patron saint of. Lentils and other small things,” Alina said. “How Aleksander will crow over that!”

He was asleep when she returned to their rooms. She’d come back much later than she had intended when she’d left to go to the Library but it was earlier than he usually fell asleep. Alina could count on one hand the number of times she’d found him dozing in his armchair by the fire. In retrospect, it was an indication of how grievously wounded he’d been that he’d slept so long and deeply when they were in the woods; she suspected even the cabin’s utter remoteness wouldn’t have allowed him to relax enough to keep him from standing watch over her every night. To see him now, his head tucked against the wing of the chair, his bare feet propped up on the flocked velvet hassock he’d first called an abominable Imperial affectation before claiming it, almost made her second-guess her decision. She could wake him and guide him to their bed or go about her own nightly ritual and wait for him to rouse to the sound of the water poured into the bowl, the jeweled hairpins dropped into their silver casket. The fire danced in the hearth, drift-wood brought from the harbor at Os Kervo burning violet and aquamarine. The light flickered across his cheekbones, the line of his throat, his kefta unfastened, the linen shirt beneath unbuttoned far enough the faint scar above his heart was visible through the scattering of his chest hair. It was rare for him to permit himself such license, rarer still for her to observe it, and she wished it could only be a night she remembered for this moment, this tender, exquisite peace and the look of drowsy desire his dark eyes would hold when he opened them and saw her in front of him.

She wasn’t sure it would work. She couldn’t be sure. If it didn’t, she wouldn’t have to explain anything; she could wait a hundred years before she mentioned it to him, an anecdote shared over honey-cakes and tea, the time leaching any bitterness from the action. And if it did work, if it exceeded her wildest hopes (not her dreams, because she would never have dreamt of this for them), she would say, in all truthfulness, that she hadn’t been certain of what would happen, other than that the risk she took was for herself alone and he couldn’t take her to task for that. Plausible deniability, that was how Togtuun had framed it, head tilted to one side, evidently prepared for Alina’s response,

“Plausible deniability. Yes, that’ll be about as convincing to Aleksander as me wishing for a herring syllabub.”

There hadn’t been any rejoinder, though Togtuun had grimaced, properly, at the prospect of such a repulsive dessert. And so Alina crept onto Aleksander’s lap, nestling her face against his neck, feeling his arms come around her even as he slept. She took a long breath and thought and chose.

“Sashenka mrinyk, minii oyuun ukhaan tany khüch chadald tavtai moril,” she said, striving to match Togtuun’s inflections in the incantation. Her attempt would have had no chance of working at all, save that Aleksander was an amplifier, perhaps the most formidable amplifier living, and her husband, who had already pledged himself to her, in every regard and dimension.

When the Librarian had uttered the words, Alina had first laughed, remarking This is why the drüskelle call us witches. Togtuun had answered And this is why you do not know the name of my Small Science.

Aleksander stirred beneath her and she pressed her lips to the delicate skin of his throat. He murmured something incomprehensible, likely in Ravkan so old she couldn’t recognize the words. Alina closed her eyes and turned inward, where it was not dark, nor light, but only a place between and then she sent herself forth as she would Summon and waited to find out if Aleksander would answer and how.

Across the city, Prince Nikolai sat at his gilded desk, candles lighting the room to the brightness of a summer noon. He signed his name to the last page before him, cast a glance at the papers strewn about the floor. He shrugged and leaned back. Success was never assured, but he felt it, near as a stalking beast about to strike.

(@tortoisesshells, please consider this your prompt-fill for “liminal space” and everyone else!)

[zoyaofthegardvn]

Where the Storm Lands (3)

A/N: Apologies for it being so long since I've updated this fic! I got a bit swamped with school, and I haven't had much time for anything else. It's finally slowed down a bit, and I found the motivation to continue the third chapter I had started a while ago! This one isn't super eventful, but it's gearing up to be. I didn't want to try and fit the "action" of S&B into one chapter, so I decided to just let this one be the... prep work? The build up? I hate calling it that because it isn't really my story, but yeah, we're getting ready to making the crossing through the Fold! And, I want to make sure it's clear that I am deviating from canon a bit. So yes, I am aware that my version of the story is altered a bit! But that's the beauty of fan-fiction, is it not? Okay, that's enough rambling! I hope to update with chapter four quicker than I did with three, but finals are on the horizon, so no promises :)

Chapter 3:

Y/N wakes to a hand on her shoulder, shaking her from deep sleep. When she opens her eyes, she’s met with brown ones. Alina. Her eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a frown. She had, per usual, climbed into Y/N’s cot last night. Though at some point, she had crawled out and gotten dressed, as she’s now in her uniform. 

The sight makes Y/N jump, she knows why Alina looks so frustrated. “You’re late, Y/N! I tried to wake you twice!” 

“I’m sorry! I’ll get ready right now, I’ll meet you out there!”

“Ahhh, like you said you’d meet us last night?” Alina stands to her full height, then turns to leave. Y/N stares at her walking away, stung. When she’s at the entrance of the tent, she glances back. “Hurry, please. I want to go together.” Y/N gives her a stiff nod, standing up and grabbing her clothes folded on the floor.

Again, the familiar bite of guilt pricks at Y/N’s eyes, it settles in her gut. They’d forgiven her, yes, but they’re still hurt. Alina most of all.

The night before, when she’d gotten back to her tent, Alina and Mal had been sitting outside of it. They hurried to stand when they saw her approaching, and Mal immediately began confronting her about why she hadn’t met up with them sooner. 

“What happened to meeting us tonight? We had no idea where you were!”

Y/N had flinched at his voice. “I’m sorry… I got… caught up. I’m so sorry.”

Alina spoke next. “Caught up with what, Y/N? Our last night before we make the crossing, we were supposed to spend it together.”

At the disappointment dripping from her voice, a wave of guilt washes over her. She wants to make it right, she really does. But the damage is done, isn’t it?

“I know. I’m so, so sorry. I really am.” Mal and Alina say nothing, they watch her, frowns etched on their faces, clearly waiting for more elaboration.

“Look, I-I… I just…” she sighs heavily, wringing her hands out in front of her. She begins pacing back and forth, nerves wracking her. Yes, she’d had a great night with a beautiful girl, but has it cost her her best friends? “I met someone,” at the look on their faces, she immediately spits out “a girl. I met a girl. She invited me back to her tent… and we… well…” 

When she trails off, Mal cuts in, the hint of a smirk on his face. “Ahh. So you forgot us for one night with a girl you just met? And you two get on me for being distracted by a pretty face.”

Y/N knows then that she hasn’t lost him forever, he’s found humor in the situation. She may not be forgiven, but she hasn’t lost him. A weight lifts from her shoulders, the dread in her stomach lessens just slightly.

She turns to Alina. “I’m really sorry. She invited me, and I knew I shouldn’t. I knew that I should have met you guys… but I was scared,” she hears her voice crack, the feel of water gathering in her eyes, “so scared to have to say goodbye. It feels like tonight is the last night we’ll be like this, don’t you think?”

At this, Alina’s face softens. “I know it’s scary, but if it is goodbye,” Alina’s voice breaks too, “I want to spend it with you two.”

Y/N nods, and she knows that she hasn’t lost Alina either.

Mal claps his hands and rubs them together before bringing them up, wrapping himself around Y/N and Alina, pulling them into an embrace. “The night isn’t over, enough with the sadness. Let’s finish it out together.”

They only had about an hour together, before all soldiers needed to be in their tents. They spent it huddled close, warm and full of love for one another. Mal’s terrible jokes, Alina’s laughter, it’s home and it’s comfort and it’s sickeningly sweet and pure. How could I have deprived myself of this tonight? Out of fear? Is that truly a good enough reason for missing this? Saints, please, let me have this again, both of them alive and healthy, laughing and no malice towards me. 

When the time came for it to be over, they’d hugged, and Alina and Y/N watched Mal leave to join his own cohort of soldiers, tucked away nearly a dozen tents down. When he was gone, Alina and Y/N didn’t speak. Alina just grasped Y/N’s arm, tugging her towards their tent, their cots, like she was worried if she didn’t have her in her hands, she’d slip away again.

~

Pulling her jacket on, Y/N nearly stumbles out of the tent. She glances around quickly, not knowing where exactly Alina and Mal have gone. She notices a long line of soldiers in the distance, and she figures this is where she’s likely to find them.

Towards the back of the line, she spots the two of them. They’re taking in the crowd, likely worrying she won’t make it in time. Y/N curses herself for causing them so much anxiety, then she hurries her pace to catch up with them. Before she gets there, Alina spots her, waving her arms around. 

“There you are, I think we’re about to board.” Alina puts a hand on Y/N’s arm to steady her after she had jogged over.

Mal reaches a hand up and tugs on a lock of Y/N’s hair that had fallen out of her braid, she bats his hand away, smiling a bit. “I have to board with the other trackers, they’re farther up in the line.”

At this, Y/N can feel her heart drop. Her stomach begins to turn, she feels sick. They won’t say goodbye. No, that’s what last night was all about. She gives Mal a nod. 

Alina speaks, her voice shaking a bit. “Be careful, please, Mal.”

He smiles, he rolls his eyes. “Always am… I think it’s the two of you that need to be careful. Clumsiest people I’ve ever met.”

Alina swats at his arm. The sight is so familiar it hurts. Mal turns to walk away, chuckling and shaking his head at the two of them.

When he’s gone, silence wraps around the pair of them, it clings to their bodies and rings in their ears. Y/N pulls her arm from where Alina’s hand is still resting on it, instead choosing to loop their arms together. Alina smiles softly at the gesture.

“I’ve been harsh, because of last night.” Alina looks down at her feet, like she’s ashamed.

Y/N clears her throat. “No, no. I deserved it. Worse, actually. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, still… it’s over now, I’ll stop being mean.”

“I like you mean, Alina. It’s such a rare sight, let me enjoy it.”

Alina snorts, finally allowing her eyes to meet Y/N’s. Her smile is forced, Y/N knows her best friend better than she knows how to breathe. She feels overwhelmed with the desire to pluck the terror right from her pretty little head. To hold her close like she did when they were young, just two little girls at the orphanage. 

“It’ll be okay, I think.”

Alina nods. “We don’t have much of a choice, huh?”

~

Of course, the Grisha boarded the sandskiff first. Most of them are laughing while climbing the ladder, hooting and landing punches on one another’s arms. Their bright keftas are a stark contrast against the dark grays and greens of the First Army soldiers. They board quickly, unafraid to start the journey through the Fold.

Evtnually, the line is made entirely of First Army soldiers. They begin to move noticeably slower, hesitant where the Grisha are eager. Up ahead, Y/N can see Mal and some of his tracker friends board. He looks behind him briefly, catches sight of her and Alina in the back of the line. They’re huddled with the cartographers, trying to peer around shoulders and heads to meet his eyes. But, he’s quickly ushered onwards by… Y/N has to stifle a groan. It’s Zoya. Zoya is watching as everyone boards, and Y/N knows this must mean she’s a more important Grisha than she had previously thought. Is she leading the entire crossing?

Y/N tries to hide her increased anxiety, turning to Alina to engage in conversation. But, Alina hardly responds to her jabbering, engrossed in watching the line move, counting how many more people until it’s their turn to board. Y/N gives up, facing forward again. Her arm tightens around Alina’s from where she’s got her fists clenched. They’ve grown sweaty and cold.

  It’s when they begin to really approach the front of the line that Y/N can feel the butterflies in her stomach begin to act up. She hadn’t really planned on seeing Zoya again. She knew she’d likely see her, but… see… her? Talk to her, even if it is just to mark her name off the list of soldiers… Yes, Y/N is nervous.

Next to her, she knows Alina is entirely unaware of the inner-turmoil she’s currently battling. She glances over at her and asks, “Is there even enough room? I feel like so many have boarded already.”

Y/N huffs out a laugh, bitter and humorless. “Let’s hope they’ve counted wrong. Maybe they’ll turn us away.” 

Alina gives a noncommittal hum. Y/N knocks her elbow into her side, gently, teasing her for the same anxiety she feels.

They’re close enough now that she can hear Zoya’s voice clearly, can hear every word she’s saying. She’s commanding and sharp, impatient with the human soldiers. Then, there’s just a few soldiers left, a few cartographers clutching white-knuckled onto their packs full of pencils and parchment. As the last one, Alexei, approaches Zoya, Y/N momentarily meets her eyes before she drops her head, looking down at her worn and ragged boots.

She’s trying desperately to ignore the simmer in her lower belly, the rush that overcame her body when her blue eyes locked with her own. Eyes on the ground, she watches as Alexei’s feet shuffle forward, continuing onwards, to the ladder on the side of the skiff. 

Taking a deep breath in, Y/N slowly lifts her head. Zoya’s watching her intently. The smirk that almost permanently painted her face during their night together is gone. In fact, she looks angry. Her lips are drawn in a tight line, one eyebrow slightly arched, like she can’t really understand what she’s seeing. It makes the heat in Y/N’s stomach turn from desire to dread. Is she really that upset to see me again?

Alina walks directly alongside her, and when they’re in front of Zoya, Alina goes to speak, to give her their names. “I’m Ali-” 

And then Zoya’s cutting her off. “It’s one at a time, or are you two children incapable of separating for one second?”

Zoya’s eyes drop down, locking on where Y/N and Alina have their arms linked. Her nostrils flare a bit, and then she’s snapping her head back up, staring intently at Y/N. Is she… jealous? She cannot be jealous, she cannot possibly be jealous of Alina and I…

Hastily, Alina drops her arm, putting a foot or two between them. The silence is thick for a moment, before Alina clears her throat and tries to speak again. “Alina Starkov, cartographer.”

Zoya rolls her eyes, then consults the list in her hand. She trails her pencil down the list, and Y/N wonders if she’s drawing this moment out to make it even more painfully awkward for her. She makes a sharp ‘check’ motion, then jerks her head toward the skiff. “Board with the ladder, and do keep out of the way, please. There’s people of importance on this crossing, and they’ve got work to do.”

Alina looks to Y/N, confusion in her eyes, before she turns to the skiff, hurrying to board, ready to be out of Zoya’s sight. 

Y/N watches her go longer than necessary, and she’s pulled back when Zoya snaps, “Are you done watching her backside? You’ve both wasted enough of my time.”

Y/N whips her head around, face scrunching in confusion. “What are you ta-”

Zoya holds a hand up, stopping her before she can finish. Then, she flips through the list, harshly marking her name off. “Go, and stay out of the way.” She punctuates her sentence by turning around, walking off to likely tell the Grisha staying behind that they’re nearly ready to leave. 

Confused, and stung, Y/N makes her way to the ladder. Her muscles wobble as she climbs, the adrenaline and dread slowly leaving her body. When she’s at the top, she feels a hand grasp her forearm. She looks up, and there’s Alina. She must have waited at the top for her. When Y/N fully climbs aboard, she sees Mal is making his way over to the two of them.

  “You two need to stay to the sides.” He speaks quickly, and he’s looking around like someone might overhear.

Alina groans, “You, too? The Grisha down there wants us out of the way too. Why’d they even want the cartographers to come then?”

Y/N nods, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Do you know something, Mal?”

He leans in, speaking in a hushed tone. “Just that they’re saying the Volcra have been more active lately, they’re having all the trackers stand in stations around the skiff. They’ve got more Grisha on board than usual, and The Darkling stayed off this trip in case it goes wrong.”

Y/N feels like she’s going to be sick. She’d been scared for days leading up to the crossing, but now, she feels terrified. Paralyzed. The small voice in the back of her mind that tried to believe everything would be okay was absent now, silenced by Mal’s information. 

“Oh, saints.” Alina sounds faint, her voice hollow.

“I have to go back, but please, the both of you keep your heads down and stay out of the way. If it goes bad, get down and hide. I’ll find you.”

“Are you speaking out of turn, soldier?” 

Mal’s head snaps up, looking behind them, horrified. Alina and Y/N whirl around. They’re faced with Zoya, standing near the ladder. Her hands are on her hips, her mouth in a scowl. They didn’t hear her come up, but her presence is unmistakable now. The air around them has grown cold, and the wind has picked up. It whips around them so furiously, it takes Alina’s scarf off, casting it off the skiff. 

“No, I was jus-”

“You were what? Scaring them, making everyone anxious, making an already dangerous crossing worse?”

“No, I’m worri-”

“I know exactly what you’re doing, and it’s not your job.” Zoya’s stepping closer and closer, her voice taking on a dangerous tone. “I think you’ve got a station to attend to. See to it, before I have you removed.”

Mal glances at Y/N and Alina, then nods and walks back the way he came. Zoya scoffs, muttering a “pathetic” before she pushes through the two of them. Y/N watches as she takes her spot at the head of skiff, standing tall and proud, surveying everyone aboard.

“I’ve never, in my life, met a Grisha as mean as that one.” Alina’s shaking her head, her face is red from feeling caught. Y/N can only nod. “Come on, before we get in more trouble.” She grabs onto Alina, pulling her along. She steers them to an unoccupied portion of the skiff, tucked away in a corner, against the side of the large ship. 

There’s only so much small-talk that can be had when waiting for what could potentially be the last ride of someone’s life, Y/N and Alina mostly just lean over the railing, looking down at the ground, waiting for the crossing to begin. There’s noise all around them, Grisha giving orders, soldiers receiving them, the most important members of the crew making their way to their positions. It’s all white-noise for Y/N, who is beginning to tremble.

“Alright, listen up!” Zoya’s voice is booming, and everyone immediately turns to attention. Y/N wonders if she’s using her powers to amplify her voice, and when she notices her fingers twitching at her side, she knows she’s guessed correctly. There’s a few moments where Zoya does not speak, waiting for the murmuring to die down, for all eyes to be on her. Y/N swears that very briefly, Zoya makes eye contact with her, before continuing to scan the crowd.

  When it seems that everyone’s settled, Zoya gives a curt nod before speaking again. “We’re going to takeoff now, into the Fold.” She allows a brief moment for that to settle over everyone, but not long enough for any arguments to arise. “In the middle of the skiff, there is a small, but necessary light. This is all the light we’ll need for the trip, it does its job very well. No one. Touches. The. light.” The emphasis on each word is tense. Has someone dared to mess with it before? “Should something happen to said light, do NOT attempt to use fire instead. You’ll only piss off whatever is in there more.” 

When she says this, the murmuring starts up again, First Army soldiers look around, stricken. Zoya puts an end to it quickly, though. “QUIET!” Again, all eyes snap to where she stands. “There are Grisha, and human soldiers, for that matter, that are on this skiff that have made this crossing several times before. There are… rumors…” she glances quickly at Y/N before continuing, “that this crossing is more dangerous than others. We have no reason to believe this, and I suggest you don’t believe everything you hear, especially when coming from inexperienced First Army-men.” No one speaks up. No one challenges her. “Now, if you’ve been given an order to stand somewhere, to do a job, I urge you to find yourself there within a matter of seconds. We leave now.” 

And with that, she turns back around to take her position at the head. She takes a deep breath in, slowly raising her arms. Her hands are cupped, and when she raises them past her waist, wind begins to fill the sails of the skiff. Y/N allows herself to be enamored for a second, or two. Zoya’s presence in itself is breathtaking, intense and commanding. But to see her like this, powerful and confident, it’s impossible to resist her allure. Other squallers in various locations begin to summon their Grisha magic, too. But none are as captivating as Zoya. Finally, the skiff, with a harsh lurch, is moving into the Fold. 

Alina’s hand latches onto Y/N’s arm so quickly, it makes her jump. They turn to look at one another, both of their eyes wide, their faces pale. Alina appears to be holding her breath. Together, they turn back towards the front, and they watch as the shadows swallow them whole.

[clairecrive]

hi! I just recently found your account and I've been spending all my time reading everything you've written, and I wanted to tell you that I absolutely adore your writing! it's so beautiful.

I also wanted to request a friends to lovers nikolai x reader fic (you don't have to make it friends to lovers if you don't want to!) something along the lines of this: they get seperated after the battle with the darkling at the end of siege and storm and reader has to go with alina but they finally reunite? and everyone is super smug because they knew it would happen.

sorry for such a long ask and no worries if you decide not to do it! I hope you're doing well!!

Fools, pistols blazing and shock

A/n: a promise is a promise and the second most requested fic was Nikolai and angst and so here it is! friends to lovers is not my favorite trope but I enjoyed writing this. I hope you will too x

Thank you so much for your beautiful words btw, they mean the world <3<3

tags: @jupiterandbutterflies , @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep , @lizzie-he4rts , @korol-lantsov , @subjecta13-thefangirl ,@gallysonegoodlung , @a-c-lee , @mriddlemethis , @carnationworld , @thanossexual , @luvxginger , @sanna2020 , @partiesandblurrypolaroids , @edithsvoice , @wafflesandschemingfaces , @snugleo , @sugarmelonwater , @dobwhore, @sassybadqueen , @anything-forourmoony, @snokoi, @imaginingimagines, @vintagebitc_,

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"So," he twirled around, "how do I look?" With a theatrical gesture, he stopped in front of you.

You looked at him, head to toe, before saying, "Like a fool I know."

He was imperturbable, by the smirk on his face one would think that you had paid him a compliment. "The answer was far simpler: handsome."

"You look like a prince," you conceded, " but so does your brother so take that as you will." And with that, you walked to your assigned post leaving a scandalized Nikolai behind.

The dinner went by smoothly even if you had to bear Vasily being his annoying self. So far so good. The important thing was that the people around the table were under no threat. The rest was bearable.

And no, it had nothing to do with Nikolai winking at you from time to time. Flirting was second nature to him and Alina's presence by his side was a cold reminder of how things were.

It took one look at her for your face to go as blank as Mal's on the other side of the room.

You had disconnected from the conversation at the table for a second, your attention going to the exit where a Grisha soldier had just walked in to talk to Zoya. If you had been paying attention to Nikolai, you would have known what to expect.

But you hadn't and so the next few seconds were pure chaos.

The unthinkable happened.

Black shadows filled the room, leaving no chance to the people they had appeared before. The Queen's scream brought your attention back to the table and consequently to the Vasily. Or rather, to what was left of him.

Beside him, the kind had crouched down to hide and was cowering behind the throne. The Queen clutched her son's body to her chest wailing and screaming. Then your eyes fell on him, standing tall in front of his parents shooting away.

You didn't know what you were going to do. You didn't think. You just acted and the next thing you knew, you were running towards him shooting fire at whatever tendrils of shadows you could see.

"Nikolai!"

In a moment, you reached his side, covering his back for every possible attack.

"You need to go," you urged him over the sounds of crying and shooting. A shot of light filled the room blinking you for a moment and panic shot through you at the possibility of Alina being hurt.

"Take your parents and Alina and go Nikolai. You can't stay here!" You insisted again, still back to back, unwilling to let anything happen to him. If he meant to argue you didn't know. You heard him speak but his words went unheard over the chaos in the room.

You turned around just in time to see one of those things trying to make their way to him. The tendrils of fire that shot through you slowed it down but it was only a shot of wind coming from a squaller that did the trick and sent it away.

Nodding in the squaller's direction you took Nikolai's shoulders and turned him towards the secret exit behind the throne.

"Stop playing hero and just go for Saint's sake!" Under normal circumstances, he was stronger than you. And well, he still was but too busy worrying about getting his family to safety and covering your back, he ended up succumbing to your shoves.

"I can't leave you here!"

"You can and you surely will! I'll make sure that Alina is safe," ushering him and his parents towards the exit, you didn't give him time to argue. Once they were through the door, you closed it behind them and melted the lock.

You allowed yourself only a moment to worry about him, to mourn him if things were to go downhill for you. Only a second for you to mourn the future that you knew you were never going to get with him.

Then it was over. Your heart locked away and your mind focused solely on the battle ahead. You needed to make sure that Alina was alive and get her to safety whilst also trying to save as many as you could along the way.

A piece of cake.

*+*+*+*+*+*

You knew that he had made it out of Os Alta alive. You had gotten word that he had arrived safe and sound to one of his hiding spots scattered around the country.

Alina and a group of other Grisha, including yourself, had managed to make it out alive out of the capital as well.

All was as well as it could be under these gloomy circumstances. And yet, you couldn't help but feel like you had lost.

Too many had fallen under the Darkling's wrath. Too many had given up their lives in honor of Ravka's freedom. Too many sacrifices for you all to be hiding in the tunnels like scared cats.

But you had a plan. You just needed to be in the same room as Alina, all of you at once, and you were going to make your way up.

It was only a matter of time before you were going to see him again.

*+*+*+*+*+*

It turned out that you were right. It was a matter of time indeed before you saw Nikolai again.

As always, he couldn't help but make a grand entrance while praising his good looks. For once, your eyes didn't roll in mock annoyance. The joy of seeing him again, safe and sound while also saving your asses, prevailed.

And the moment his eyes met yours? Priceless.

Despite being in the middle of running away and fighting the first army's soldiers, you felt like there was only the two of you. Nothing mattered besides Nikolai, his stupid smirk that shone brighter than all the stars combined.

It turned out that that moment came with a price indeed. Your distraction paved the way for an almost fatal mistake.

Too lost in Nikolai's eyes and restraining yourself from throwing yourself at him, you didn't notice the soldier sneaking up behind him. Or well, you didn't until it was too late.

The movement caught your eyes, but the bastard had his pistol already drawn. You had the presence of the spirit of pushing Nikolai out of the way before a shot was fired.

Focusing on the bullet you tried all your might to melt it, but you knew it was a desperate attempt since you had noticed it too late. Trying and losing was better than not trying at all so trying you did.

However, what turned out to be life-saving was Nikolai's counterattack. While you exercised the small science, Nikolai quickly drew his own pistol and shoot at the soldier.

Time seemed to slow down as you stared in front of him, hands in the air while Nikolai moved behind you. Right before your brain registered that while you had indeed managed to burn the bullet, it was still coming your way at high speed, another object entered your field vision.

At that moment you didn't exactly decipher what had happened, you blinked and the bullet was not there anymore. However, your stupor was short-lived as other soldiers were coming your way after hearing the noise.

At that point, Nikolai tugged you away and towards his awaiting ship knowing that the soldiers would surely outnumber you.

It all happened in a blink. One moment you were on the ground hellbent on not dying, and the other you were up in the air.

That, combined with the stress of the last couple of weeks. exhaustion and dehydration put you in a state of shock. Resulting in you staring numbly ahead of you.

Then, when you felt a hand on your face, your brain started working again and your eyes slowly began to focus.

"Are you injured?"

Nikolai was moving your head left and right to check for wounds and after that, he moved down on your neck and vital points. But you weren't hurt.

"It's so typically you to swoop in and save the day in the most dramatic way possible that I shouldn't even be surprised."

Your sarcasm reassured him that you were fine more than the absence of physical wounds. Leaning back on his haunches, he gave you a lazy smirk. "You know me, always read to save damsels in distress."

You almost hated how handsome he looked in that moment but the fact that he basically had saved your life made it really hard for you to get mad at him.

"Not a damsel and not in distress but I appreciated your gesture," you fired back falling naturally into your usual easy banter. "Thank you, Kolya."

"You shouldn't be thanking me. I did it for a whole selfish reason." His features morphed into seriousness which was usually something he left for meetings or that kind of stuff. Seeing it now directed at you, seriously worried you.

"Since when does Nikolai Lanstov shy away from gratefulness and compliments?" You tried to jest but to no avail.

"I'm serious."

"Alright, so why did you do it? You have tons of other Grisha available."

"Because a world without you is not a world I want to live in."

Well, damn. Trust Nikolai to make you completely speechless.

"That must be the shock talking," you murmured still taken back by his words.

"I've almost lost you, y/n, I'm not going to waste any more time avoiding my feelings." Crossing his arms on his chest, Nikolai lightly shook his head. Damn, there was no smirk on his face, no twinkle in his eyes. He must be serious.

"I should be having an epiphany moment since I was the one who almost died," you protested.

"Feel free to declare your undying love for me then."

"Ass. Now I'm tempted not to do it just to prove you wrong," you glared at him but sighed knowing what you needed to do. "But, as much as it pains me, you're right."

Your eyes flickered between yours and the sheer intensity of them gave you enough confidence to bear your heart to him, "I do love you, you know."

"Well, let's be honest, who wouldn't. I'm amazing," with a careless shrug, Nikolai gestured to himself. Which, of course, made you glare at him.

"Joking, I take it back. You're insufferable." Your mock-annoyance did nothing but amuse him to no end. However untruthful they might be, Nikolai played along with your words. While also progressively leaning closer to you.

"Nope, can't do that love. You signed your destiny, you're mine." You would have retired, of course you would have, but the truth is, his lips were more interesting than any witty comeback ever could.

[liberty-barnes]

My Everything

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Request: I was wondering if you could do something with Kaz and the reader as a sister to Aleksander, and that they are fighting in the fold when Zoya and Alina get them out that the reader jumps off the ship to kill the darkling so that he won't escape, and everyone is sad and standing and waiting, and then she comes limping out from the fold. (If you can, I would love it if she, Alina, and Mal were best friends from before.)

Warnings: mentions of Kaz’s touch aversion, fight scenes (aww my first fight scenes!), description of murder, minor spoilers for SoC (mainly Inej’s knives and that one secret we learn about Jesper), language

Word Count: 4.3k words

Estimated Reading Time: 17 minutes

A/N: I’m gonna be honest, this deserved to be a series and I’m very sad to not have the energy to make it into one but to make up for that, I turned it into a proper one-shot cause screw my sleepover’s rules, I made them anyway, I’ll break them if I want to.

Masterlist | Miah’s Comeback Sleepover

You pawed at the shackles bounding your wrists. You knew you were on a skiff, you could feel its movement. You knew that your brother was somewhere on the upper deck since you could hear his voice, powerful and commanding even this far away. You hated it.

Yet even after decades upon decades spent dealing with the consequences of his foolish actions, you still couldn’t find a way to best him. You had ignored your mother’s requests to train harder, be stronger, prepare yourself for when the time came for you two to battle it out in the most rudimentary way of all. Deep down, you knew she was right, but that didn’t sway your decision.

Instead, while your brother moved his way up the ranks until he commanded an army, you hid out in little villages, away from most civilisation. You found a place, stole an amplifier that would allow you to heal and tailor yourself if need be, worked whatever job you could, then left before you could get too attached, disappearing into the shadows, as was your place.

How foolish of you, to believe that you could hide out forever.

You waited until no noise came from above you to melt away from the shadows surrounding you. That was one good thing about being a Shadow Summoner: no one could see you if you didn’t want to be seen.

You didn’t know where you docked exactly. The sailors were Shu, travelling to this place, instead of returning, as you were accustomed to. For once, you had no bearings in this new place.

You left the boat and walked the streets, paying close attention to the people and places. A word here, a flash of money there, and you were once again in full control of your destiny.

You slinked away from the many gambling halls, houses of pleasure, and other such idiotic places and went further into the shadows. Your home. The further you went, the safer you felt, although something told you you shouldn’t.

You looked up at the rooftops from your peripheral. A girl. Impressively soundless, most likely invisible to any other person. It reminded you of a cat you used to have when you were younger, happier, and naive. She used the shadows in her favour. Unfortunately for her, you were the shadows.

You weighed your options and turned onto an empty street, stopping and crouching down as if to tie your shoe. Above you, the girl stopped and observed.

“Hello, little cat.”

You said, in perfect kerch. If you live this long, you learn to pick up a few languages. The girl stilled, and you turned towards her.

“Come on, hop on down, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything.”

She seemed to hesitate for a second but eventually did, landing soundlessly on her feet. Your heightened vision allowed you to see her perfectly. She was Suli.

“That was impressive. I suppose most people don’t even notice you’re there, much less call you out on it.”

Her eyes widened, most likely surprised to hear her mother tongue spoken back at her.

“You’re Suli?”

You shook your head.

“Ravkan. Close enough. Mind telling me why you were following me?”

She shifted on her feet. Apparently, once you took away her greatest strength, she had a hard time bouncing back. It was understandable. You wanted to fix it.

“My boss has me stake out everyone that he deems necessary. One of those is newcomers that don’t fit the usual pattern. You came into my sights.”

You nodded.

“Understood. Lead the way, I wanna have a talk with that boss of yours.”

Now, you’d give anything to be back on the streets of Ketterdam.

You cursed yourself as your fingers yet again failed to touch. All you needed was one measly touch of your hands to activate the magic, get it flowing, then you could get out of here. Your movements were still sluggish from the brief Heartrender-induced coma. You suspected that Aleksander wanted you to be at the centre of his victory, so close, yet unable to stop him. Not for the first time, you cursed yourself for your actions.

A letter was waiting for you on top of your bed. You briefly wondered if one of the Dregs had mistakenly put it there since you had no one to send letters to you, but once you got closer you knew it wasn’t a mistake.

“No…”

You gasped out, staring at your name, proudly scrawled in your mother’s handwriting.

This can’t be possible. No one knows where you are.

Hurried words, some stood out, need you here, not much time, imminent disaster.

You made your way up the stairs and to Kaz’s office.

Need you here.

Need you here.

Need you here need you here need you here.

“Come in.”

You closed the door behind you and Kaz immediately abandoned his plans, most likely expecting another night of healing. Although you were powerful, healing was an acquired gift, not a born one. It’d take a few more sessions to fully rid him of his touch aversion. Although you’d managed to stop him from recoiling at your touch, others were still a challenge.

He noted your posture and a frown crossed his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to leave.”

The way his face dropped haunted you all the way out of the Slat, to the boat, through the Fold, into the Little Palace, in the woods when you were trying to keep Alina and Mal safe, during you and your brother’s first showdown, and was still with you now, bound in some skiff to witness your brother’s cruel plan come to fruition.

“(Y/n)?”

You snapped your head towards the voice, eyes filling with newfound hope at the sight of your newest friend.

“Mal!”

He rushed towards you, looking for anything he could use to break your bonds while you inspected him for injuries. Aleksander could take away the amplifier, but your Healer instincts were not something you could just shake off.

“How did you end up here?”

He looked at you as if it was obvious.

“I couldn’t let Alina face him alone. Even less when I saw them drag you here. Unconscious, nonetheless. I would’ve come by sooner but I had to make sure no one would come to look down here.”

You nodded. What Mal and Alina had wasn’t something you could break. Wherever he goes, she goes, and vice-versa. There’s no doubt in your mind they’d follow each other to the grave without a second thought.

“Ugh, I can’t get these off!”

You made your way to the pair, soundless as ever. They were hiding from Aleksander and his Grisha, but you knew they would be caught.

“Don’t panic, it’s just me.”

Mal turned around, surely ready for a fight, but Alina stopped him.

“Mal, it’s okay, she’s a friend.”

You quickly assessed your surroundings, figuring out the best path to get away from the search party.

“Over here, come on, we have to hurry.”

They followed you, eager to get out of danger, and within minutes you had them safely stowed away and out of your brother’s reach.

You reached for Alina.

“Come, let me heal you.”

It still surprised you how she trusted you so easily, even after knowing the man Aleksander was. The man you were related to. You supposed your mother had a hand in that.

Once she was fully recovered, you turned to Mal.

“I know you don’t know me, and you have no reason to trust me, but if you allowed me I’d like to take care of those cuts of yours, get you back into peak condition.”

He looked towards his friend.

“If Alina trusts you, then so do I.”

It was that simple.

“I can.”

You thought you were hallucinating. Kaz? On the East side of the Fold? Not possible.

Yet, when you lifted your head, there he was: in flesh, bones, and leather gloves. You almost sobbed.

“Kaz…”

He pushed Mal away with his cane, then knelt behind you, cradling your bound wrists with gentle hands. You couldn’t see him work, as your hands were behind your back, but you could feel the shift of his wrists, the heat emanating from him, his breath on your neck.

One barely-there brush of his arm against your fingertips and your hands were free. You turned around and he brought his hand to your face, inspecting it for any injuries that might have occurred. Fortunately, your brother had been kind enough to allow a Healer to tend to you after your fight.

“What are you doing here?”

“We came here on a job. Get Alina, get a million kruge. It didn’t go so well.”

You laughed wetly, throat tight from holding back tears.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, and I’m happy to see you but I wish you weren’t here.”

Another voice piped up.

“You know, it’s really unfair that he gets all the sentimental reunion shit and we don’t even get a hug. Like come on, are we not friends?”

You rose on unsteady feet and brought Jesper into your arms, repeating the action with Inej right after. How you’d missed them.

A scuffle broke out from above you and you knew that you had to act now. You were going to stop your brother. Once and for all, like you should have done all those years ago.

Kaz squeezed your hand as you repeated the familiar words.

“No mourners.”

“No funerals.”

“(Y/n)!”

Your mother’s voice rang out as you stared at the door outside her bedroom. Soldiers stood, Aleksander was widely outnumbered.

“I have to help him.”

She shook her head.

“No. You have to stop him. He’s about to do something terrible.”

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t just leave him to die. He was your big brother, your family. You couldn’t leave him. With a flick of your wrist, the shadows had risen to hold their feet to the ground. Destabilising them. Scaring them. You thought you had evened the odds.

Turns out the scales had started to tip in Aleksander’s favour long ago, and the sudden surge of Grisha power in the air was all he needed.

In a split second, he’d siphoned the little bit of your power that was in those shadow traps. It looked so insignificant given how much you had. But a little power goes a long way. It went long enough for him to create the Fold.

Your mother begged you to stop him, fight him, put an end to what would ruin millions of lives. You felt fear take hold of you, shame, doubt. You knew you’d never be good enough for that. Brave enough.

When he came back inside looking for Baghra, you were gone, hidden in the shadows like the coward you were. Hidden in the shadows like you’d remain from then on.

It all happened so fast. Too fast. One minute you were fighting, Alina was setting herself free, Aleksander went overboard, you rescued Mal. You saw your brother disappear into the shadows but he was still there, fighting them, and he’d win. These shadows were a part of him. He’d created them. They’d obey their creator. They wouldn’t harm him. They couldn’t harm him. But you could.

Zoya got the sails to work again, propelling the skiff out of the Fold just as you jumped out, drowning out your friends’ voices. You saw them all get out safely. That’s good. You took a determined step forward.

You stood face to face with your brother. Alina and Mal were further North, still trying to locate the stag. You stayed behind. You had to protect them. You had to fight him, make up for all the suffering you could have prevented.

“(Y/n). So you did return.”

He rose his hand up to stop his men from moving.

“This needs to end, Aleksander, you’ve caused enough suffering as is.”

He scoffed.

“Suffering? Only to our enemies. They wanted us shackled, weak, dead. I’m doing this for the good of our people, why won’t you understand that?”

You rose a brow.

“That sounds a lot like what the Fjerda say before they burn Grisha at the pyre instead of learning to live in harmony.”

His eyes lit up in anger.

“Do not compare me to those beasts. I am a living Saint, the saviour of our kind!”

You let a tear fall from your eyes, finally seeing just how far gone your brother was. But this wasn’t him. Your brother was dead. He died along with Luda all those centuries ago. This was the Darkling, the Black Hester. Aleksander was dead.

“You are no saviour.”

Shadows formed around you just as they did around him.

“Fine, make me your villain.”

It was a gruesome fight. Shadow against shadow, punch against punch, blade against blade. You had the same power, but not the same strength. He had a purpose, a will, a goal that had festered for over a century. You were slower, less trained, mourning the brother you just realised you lost.

It was a lost cause from the very beginning.

He plunged his blade into your gut. You thought it fitting, that you’d spent so long hiding in the shadows only for them to be the reason for your demise.

The amplifier, the one thing that gave you power, that allowed you to heal instead of destroying as your family seemed to constantly do, was pulled from your body and you felt yourself weaken, hitting the snow with a dull thud.

The last thing you registered was a Healer tending to your wounds before your pulse was dropped and you were welcomed by the unforgiving helplessness of unconsciousness.

“Come to join me, little sister? Finally came to your senses?”

You stood in front of him, nothing but twenty feet of air between you. You felt the darkness everywhere. In the ground, in the dust floating, in the creatures flying around. This was pure darkness. You were in your element, but so was he.

“You know I’m not, Darkling.”

“It’s Aleksander, call me by my name.”

You shook your head.

“Aleksander died along with his lover. You are not my brother. You’re an abomination, and I’ll rid the world of you if it’s my last action on this Earth.”

He drew his hands in front of him and a blade formed.

“As you wish. If you’re no longer my sister, I’ll have no qualms about killing you.”

You evaded expertly as he swung down his blade. He was expecting an easy fight, and yet he’d have anything but. He saw you as the defenceless little girl he had to protect in his youth, the coward that ran out on her family, the unworthy opponent he bested once already.

But that was not you anymore. You’d changed, quickly and drastically. You had a goal now, a single-minded type of focus: beat him, end him, undo your wrongdoings.

You channelled all your knowledge, your instincts. The years spent defending yourself against soldiers with bows and arrows, the days evading Fjerdans, Examiners, and any of the like, the months spent fighting for and beside the Dregs. You were a different person.

In that moment, you weren’t (Y/n), you were the personification of his doom, you were karma coming back for retribution, you were the wrecking ball that would destroy everything he’d created.

He relied too much on his blade, you didn’t make that same mistake. With a flick, shadows encompassed his feet, as you had once done for his enemies. Your shadows, uncontrollable to him. He swung his blade down to cut them off, but you kicked it away. Punching him in the face felt better than you’d imagined.

Drawing your own shadows was complicated here, where everything was his creation. They could be easily destroyed by a momentary loss of focus. He thought that was a slip-up. He was terribly wrong.

He brought his knee up to hurt you but you caught it, dropping to the floor with practised ease and watching him fly over you, hitting the ground with a groan. And then it was hit. After hit. After hit. A block here and there, but they got rarer the more you moved along. His body sagged on the floor, face beaten beyond recognition, body drained of all its energy from the previous fight and now this one.

You formed a dagger, just as your brother had taught you all those years ago. Fitting that he'd be the one teaching you the skill that would kill him.

“Goodbye, Darkling.”

You plunged the dagger into his heart, watching the light fade from his eyes. His body started to sag and fade, turning to shadows and being absorbed into your being. He might have been a Shadow Summoner, but he was also an Amplifier. His body’s power went to the one that killed him. When his body was gone, now forever a part of you, you allowed yourself to lay back down.

With him dead, the Fold was no longer able to expand. It had no creator to draw its power from, it was at a standstill, waiting to either fade or be blown away. The Darkling was powerful, you’d expect it to take a few more centuries to fade on its own. But that wouldn’t be a problem. Alina would destroy it.

You looked down at your arms, the black magic of the Amplifier not yet settled within you. In a sense, it was comforting. Aleksander had been an Amplifier long before his soul had rotten. It felt like having a part of him with you forever.

You closed your eyes, body weak, and let yourself sink further into the dirt.

You thought of what you’d be living behind. Alina. Mal. Inej. Jesper. The Dregs. Your little room in the Slat. That cat that always came around begging for food.

Kaz.

Oh, Kaz…

You’d never gotten to say goodbye. It was a split-second decision to jump off that skiff. You’d never said goodbye to him. Worked through the remainder of his touch aversion.

Would he be mad? Would he mourn you? Would he cry?

You’d never seen him cry before, but surely this was a good reason to.

You’d never get to kiss him.

You’d gotten so close too.

But all that hard work was in vain now.

“Alright, do you wanna try now?”

He opened his eyes and nodded. You’ve done a lot of progress over the last few weeks. From taking off his gloves when you were in the room, to touching your bare hand with his, to laying on the bed, side by side.

It was a daily job, first getting through those walls enough that he didn’t recoil at your touch for the sole purpose of healing his leg. It was a weakness he didn’t like to have. Now that his leg was fully healed up, you could focus entirely on him.

At first, you felt hurt that he still insisted on carrying his cane around everywhere, until you noticed it was more for deceit and practicality’s sake than for actual necessity.

You laid on the bed beside him, as you’ve done multiple times. You always make sure to let him make the first move, let him have control. He needed control and you were more than happy to give up some of it.

He started by moving his hand towards yours and linking your pinkie, breathing for a moment and sighing in relief when no feeling of nausea arose.

You hadn’t done much, really, it was all him. Your work involved calling up the memories and offering him better coping mechanisms but he had to accept those mechanisms and put them in place. He was the one that made peace with Jordie’s death and what he had to do to survive. He did all the heavy lifting, your only job was to keep him sane while he processed those emotions, and then help him get reacquainted with touch.

He took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs. You’d seen that expression before. It was the expression he wore when he was about to take a gamble, get into a fight, jump off some building to escape whatever hole he’d fallen into. A deep breath before that sudden leap of faith, if he even had any.

He quickly pulled you to his chest, hugging you tightly with an arm around your shoulder and another around your waist.

A second passed. Then two. Three. He let out the breath he was holding and sighed.

“All good?”

“All good.”

You smiled and hugged him back, taking in the unique scent that could belong to no one but him. His body safely cocooned yours and you let yourself relax. The day had been long, healing much needed and tailoring required for a job. You started to feel the heavy toll of exhaustion weighing you down and fought against the drooping of your lashes. But you were fighting a losing battle.

When you woke up the next morning, Kaz was still in bed with you. You could feel his eyes on your face, hands caressing your cheeks, bodies still pressed up against one another. When your eyelids fluttered open, he didn’t look away.

His eyes were gorgeous, you hadn’t actually noticed that before. Up until now, they were just blue. How foolish you had been to think that such beautiful things could be categorised as “just” anything. They were the diamonds in Queens’ necklaces, they were the sky in late Fjerdan winter, they were the water you’d travelled on to get here. They were a perfect mirror to him.

No part of Kaz Brekker should ever be described as “just” anything because Kaz Brekker was everything.

Carefully, he leaned in. This was nothing like yesterday, no sudden movement to test a theory, find out if he was ready, if the treatment was working. He was doing this because he wanted to. Because he wanted to kiss you.

You felt his breath on your lips and gently closed your eyes. His mouth barely brushed yours, no more than wind on a cold day, when a knock suddenly reverberated and he was jumping away to sit at his desk, sparing you one last glance as you straightened yourself up before inviting in whoever it was.

“Get us back in there, Squaller, I am not leaving her behind!”

Zoya shook her head while behind him, Alina wept in Mal’s arms.

“If she jumped out, she’s as good as gone. The Fold is ruthless, and she has to deal with the Darkling as well. She couldn’t have survived.”

He shook his head in blatant refusal.

“No. No, you don’t know (Y/n). She wouldn’t die, she wouldn’t die! She’s alive and she needs us to go looking for her!”

Jesper paced back and forth, examining the skiff, most likely trying to figure out if he could manipulate the material of it enough that they’d be on the move. But skiffs weren’t made to be worked by Fabrikators, they were made to be worked by Squallers.

Inej was oddly silent. Clutching a knife to her chest, one of the two new ones she’d bought for her thigh holsters. The one on the right thigh was named Sankta Alina, the left one, the one she held now, was still unnamed.

He paced. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when he had yet to tell her he-

Tell her he…

Not when I haven’t told her I love her.

He thought and forced himself to really think those words. To think them over, and over, and over again, so that when he saw her again, they’d be the first ones tumbling out of his lips.

Before I miss you.

Before I thought you died.

Before I’m glad you’re alive.

“Oh, Sankta (Y/n).”

Inej whispered, and pointed at the Fold, where they’d come out of what felt like hours ago. A figure in a black outfit stumbled out. He knew that outfit. He knew that figure. He’d know her even when he didn’t know himself. When the rest of the world was a blank slate and he didn’t recognise the man staring back at him in the mirror, he’d know her, and he’d know he loved her.

He jumped off the skiff, cane, hat, everything left behind and sprinted towards her. Faster, he thought, you’re moving too slow, get to her faster.

He was a mere sixty feet from her when she lifted her head, saw him, and smiled. She stopped then, knowing he’d come to her, knowing he’d save her, knowing he’d hold her up when she couldn’t hold herself, protect her and heal her like she’d done him.

He pulled her into his arms as soon as she was close enough to. His grip was unyielding, strong, desperate. He pulled away just enough to look into her eyes.

“I love you.”

His voice didn’t waver, despite the tears. It didn’t break, there was no tell that he was lying because for once in his life, he wasn’t. For once, he was telling the truth, the purest, most honest truth, with no regards for how bad that could end.

“I love you, too.”

But of course, it wouldn’t end badly, because this is (Y/n) we’re talking about. Soft, gentle (Y/n) that could heal him with a look and destroy anyone with a flick of her hand. She was hard, she was dangerous, she was powerful, she should be feared, she was his equal, she was his love, she was his life, she was his everything.

When they finally kissed, it felt like coming home.

Are you guys as soft as I am right now? Cause I just read this over and I am in a pile of tears, so either my sleep deprivation has finally caught up to me or this is genuinely the best thing I’ve ever written.

Anyway, if you liked it don’t forget to like/reblog/comment/send me an ask or dm ranting about it, I really love hearing from you guys.

-Love, Miah <3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@adriannajackson123 @evermoreholland @inlovewithmobtom @andycanbeemotional @officiallyunofficialperson @lost-in-the-stars03 @jeezkiddo @a-singleboat @parkersbliss @highlydisfunctional1 @inthecornerchair @harishaanne @anjalika03 @peterspideyy @lozzypoz321 @mendes-marvel @sovereignparker @sofyluv17 @dracoswhore007

SHADOW AND BONE

@thegirlwiththeimpala @olkathechaoticfox @iloveinej

[padme-parker]

Mizpah // the darkling x reader // ch 4

summary: The Darkling and Alina talk. You get a tour of the Little Palace.

warnings: cussing, getting drunk, maybe some violence maybe not. not proof read either </3

AFTER showing you to your room, the Darkling hurried back to Alina. Inside, the sun summoner had been pacing relentlessly. What did he mean we weren’t together? The girl understood that the two had shared nothing more than a kiss. He didn’t owe her anything, so why did she feel like this? Hearing the door swing open made her stop in place.

“Forgive me, Alina.” He started. “But I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed you that night.” Aleksander didn’t know what he was saying. He knew that he had to have the sun summoner by his side, and he didn’t know how to execute his plan if he didn’t have her. Truthfully, there had been some part of him that enjoyed indulging in her. He had convinced himself and Alina that it was them against the world, which he had believed. Until you showed up.

On the contrary, Alina was seething. She didn’t know whether to be angry with herself or the Darkling. “But you said-” She let the words die on the tip of her tongue, she couldn’t recall what he had said exactly. All she knew was that he made a promise that they would save the world, together. Had she interpreted his words and actions wrong, the girl didn’t know. She left Mal, she just let Mal walk out of her life for a man she had known for less than a year. A man who had promised her everything yet nothing. “Saints, I…”

“I really am sorry.” Alina knew something was off, the Darkling never apologized for his actions, deliberate or not. He had no problem taking up lovers in the past, so what had made him change his mind? He seemed so ready to give himself to her.

The sun summoner gave him a weak smile, “No, I understand.” She could feel the tender strings of her heart snapping. How could I let myself fall for someone like him so easily? She began to berate herself. She quickly excused herself, not wanting the Darkling to see the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. As soon as she shut the door, she paused. Willing herself to calm in order to go to her room. On the other side of the door, the Darkling approached it yearnfully. He had risked everything for a whim.

With a sigh, the Darkling left the war room and headed to his sleeping quarters. He took a short bath before putting on his sleep attire. He found himself falling asleep to the thought that you would soon be in his arms.

-

THE DARKLING had been roused from his sleep, your screams echoing in the barren hall. Hurriedly, he threw open the doors of his room and gathered his oprichniki before entering your room. He ordered his guards to survey your room as he made his way to your trembling figure. He desperately wanted to reach out to you. To take you into his embrace and kiss your forehead until you stopped crying. But he couldn’t, not yet. It was still too soon. After no threat was found, he directed his guards to leave the two of you alone. He finds himself crouching down to you, his hand hovering over yours, asking for permission. He didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state like this.

With the nod of your head, he takes your hands into his, unconsciously rubbing his thumb along the soft skin of your palm. He does his best to subdue the emotion in his face as he sees the raw skin of your neck. His mouth seemed to dry, his throat feeling like the sands of West Ravka. With caution, he traces along the lines of your birthmark, noticing the shudder you had so deeply tried to suppress.

“I can call for Genya, if you’d like that.” You knew what he was insinuating. As humiliated as you were by it growing up, you wouldn’t get rid of it or try to hide it. Not anymore, not ever again.

“No.” You said sternly. The sunlight had completely changed the way your room looked. In turn you observed how the rays of light painted your room in a warm, welcoming tone. You had managed to finally calm yourself, his presence oddly enough brought you comfort. You should’ve been scared of General Kirigan, The Darkling, Starless Saint, or whatever it was he went by. He was a ruthless man who was willing to do anything he could to end the war. But was that not a good thing? You asked yourself. He would risk everything to end the war. Ravka needs someone like him. He certainly did far more for your country than the King ever did.

A realization came over you as you stared at him, a smile coming to your lips. “I think it’s time for that tour you promised me.” The Darkling lent his hand out to you, and you gladly took it. You dusted yourself off, pretending like nothing had happened. “Give me a second to get dressed.” Without waiting for his reply, you took the same undershirt and trousers from yesterday, and changed in the bathroom. Before leaving the room, you made sure to throw your raggedy soldier’s jacket over your shoulders.

The Darkling started with the obvious, his sleeping quarters and the war room. He had told you how the sleeping quarters connected to his war room wasn’t actually his bedroom. He found it too much of a hassle to move from the war room to all the way down the hall in order to sleep every night. The next room he showed you was his own, but he never granted you entrance.

“I don’t go in there often, it reminds me of..” His eyes briefly met yours, he cleared his throat and looked away. “..someone.” There was a flash of something, some emotion, that you couldn’t pinpoint. But if one thing was clear, whoever this person was really hurt him. You tried not to press on further as the curiosity got the best of you.

“I didn’t peg you as someone who would settle for a relationship.” You said as he started to lead you away from his room.

“I’m not.” He said solemnly. You could tell he wanted to say more. That there was something that wanted to escape his lips, but he didn’t allow those words to leave them. He took his time explaining the halls and rooms of the Little Palace.

“This is where the Corporalki practice, I don’t recommend going inside.” He stated. Their practice room had no windows, unlike the many other rooms within the Little Palace. You could only imagine the horrid smell in there. Perhaps they convinced a squaller to air it out once in a while.

The next room he took you to was where they all gathered to eat. He told you how Grisha were separated into their own tables. The Darkling had sat in the middle, while the Corporalki and Etherealki were seated to the right and left of him. However, it wasn’t often he made an appearance here. He usually ate in his war room.

After showing you the inside, he then took you outdoors towards the garden. He had managed to avoid large crowds inside, but due to nearly everyone training outdoors, there had been some people who stopped and stared as you walked past. The lake had begun to freeze, some Grisha ice skating on the shallow side where the ice froze first. The others had been practicing their magic. It had mainly been the Etherealki who practiced outdoors. Eventually everyone had to come outdoors though to train with Botkin.

“Perhaps I could train with him too?” You asked. Afterall, you were in the First Army. It would be a waste to sit in the palace and do nothing while you could be training and brushing up on your skills.

“If that’s what you want, sure. All Grisha are permitted from using their powers while training with Botkin. I can assure that you’ll be given a fair fight.”

“Oh, I won’t be the one needing a fair fight.” You mused, peering at your knuckles, remembering all the fights you had gotten into at Keramzin after Alina and Mal came. You’d come a long way from that damned orphanage.

“Well, I guess that concludes our tour of the Little Palace for now.” The two of you walked aimlessly, trying to make conversation. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted a small hut, encapsulated by the trees.

“What’s over there?” You asked. The Darkling looked in the direction you had pointed to before swiftly leading you away.

“That's where Grisha go to train one on one with a teacher.” He explained. “I have a meeting to get to, but I can walk you to Alina’s room if you’d like.” The Darkling had hoped you accepted his offer, and tried to hide his disappointment when you had told him you’d like to walk there on your own. As you left, the Darkling kept his gaze on you the whole time. And if only you had turned once, you would see the longing he had so desperately tried to keep back.

The walk back to Alina’s room had been uneventful since Grisha were off training, including Alina. As you return to her room, you traversed about. You were sure she wouldn’t mind you looking around. You and Alina had grown accustomed to sharing most things while growing up. Everything from food, toys, even to Mal. As you neared her desk, you noticed a red book that she failed to hide. The cover had a beautiful gold design and lettering on it, Istorii Sankt’ya, it displayed.

“The Lives of Saints.” You whispered as you flipped through the pages. You were confused as to why Alina had this, she was never one to believe in the Saints growing up. Surely there was no way she had converted to a believer in a matter of months. Then again, faith was a strong thing that could cause Kingdoms to rise and fall. You’d heard of the whispers, some calling her Sankta Alina. As you continued to flip through the pages, you abruptly stopped, one of the images catching your eyes.

Depicted was an image of Sankt Ilya in chains. Behind the Saint was a white serpent that splashed in the waters. At his feet was the stag you’d been tasked with tracking down. And in the background behind the Saint’s left shoulder was a bird. Your fingers traced over the antlers of the Stag, trying to recall why you’d been tasked with tracking it in the first place. You’d heard about all the myths. The Stag, the Sea Whip, and the Firebird. If the Stag had been more than a myth, more than a children’s story, then did that mean the Sea Whip and the Firebird were real too? If so, what could the Darkling possibly want with them.

The sound of approaching footsteps startled you, making you drop the book in your hands onto the desk. You quickly seated yourself on the chair in front of the mirror, trying to seem inconspicuous. Alina came in through the doors alone.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my sun summoner. How are you my friend?” You played off, which Alina squinted her eyes at.

“What do you want, y/n?” The question made you roll your eyes, letting out a huff as you got up from the chair.

“What, I can’t visit my friend while I’m staying as a guest here?” You noticed the furrow of her brows, reminding you of the conversation that you, the Darkling, and Alina had last night. “What happened to Mal? Why’d he leave?” You whispered, knowing she was still hurt from the events that took place.

“I.. He..” She began, the whimpering in her voice evident. “We got into an argument, he told me I had changed since I left. That the kefta and jewels made me different. He told me that he saw how the Darkling looked at me. One thing led to another, and then he just left.” She explained, a single tear falling from her eye.

“Did you?” You asked, “Did you like the way he looked at you?” You clarified. Your eyes never leaving hers as she stared at you.

“I thought I did. There was something that was luring me to him. I thought I wanted to be with the Darkling, and then something changed within him. Maybe I took his words the wrong way. But either way you're the only person I have left now. Mal is… gone. The Darkling probably only wants me here to get rid of the fold.” She sighed. You tugged her into her grasp, feeling her body let out small sobs.

“Mal will come back to us, he always does.” You assured while stroking her hair. “Now can we get something to eat, I’m starving.” She let out a laugh as she wiped away her tears. She walked towards a bell that had been sitting upon a tray. She rang it once, signaling a servant. Right after, a young servant had knocked on the door. Alina had promptly opened it and asked for a meal for two to be brought to her room. The servant obliged, bowing before leaving once more.

Soon after the servant had returned with a cart full of food. She served you several small plates of Zakuski, a pitcher of Kvas, along with some pickled herring on top of crackers. You grimaced at the selection placed in front of you.

“Well they’re certainly feeding you ...something.” You giggled. You gravitated towards the Zakuski as your other hand went to pour a glass of Kvas.

“The General orders we have a balanced diet, or something like that.” She replied. “Since when do you drink?”

“Ever since I got stationed at Caryeva.” You shuddered thinking about your time there. “It was my only escape. I remember that night, it was a quiet night, but it didn’t stop the Shu from attacking and capturing Grisha.” The words seemed to just slip from your mouth, it was the first time Alina had heard about what your time was like down in Caryeva. “I tried to fight back, to help the Second Army. Hell, I even suggested that they take me with them. But they spared me because I wasn’t Grisha. Of course I didn’t come out unscathed.” You said, referring to the scars she’d seen yesterday. “And ever since then, I’ve been drinking because why the fuck not.” You raise your glass in a toast before downing it in one go. You reached for the pitcher again as Alina began to talk about her experience here.

“It wasn’t easy at first. It still isn’t. Some of them still don’t believe I’m a sun summoner, that I’m doing some kind of illusion. But surely the Darkling would’ve killed me if I wasn’t what I claimed he was.”

“Can I see it?” You interrupted, while you only got a glimpse of her at the fete, you had yet to see her powers one to one. In an instant, the room is filled with a bright light. You set down the Kvas in order to shield your eyes. A smile came onto your lips, “I can’t believe it, my best friend is the sun summoner.”

“Whenever you return to the First Army, you can’t mention that you know me. Someone will use that against us and try to get us both killed.” She warned, “While we're on that topic, how long will you be staying?”

“Well, he did say I could stay for as long as I’d like; as long as you permitted it.” You said, taking another gulp of your Kvas. You could feel it begin to take its effect, a slight warmth blooming throughout your body while your cheeks were tinted with a light blush. Time seemed to pass quickly as the two of you continued to catch each other up on what the other had missed. Soon enough the moonlight had taken over, leaving you with nothing but candles and lanterns to light up the room. And Alina of course.

“Alright, I think it’s time I head back.” You announced, getting up from your chair seemed to be a difficult task made obvious by the wobble in your knees.

“Maybe you should stay here for tonight.” She tried to convince you.

“I think I’m fine, Alina. Besides who would miss out on being able to sleep across the hall from that hunk of a man.” You snickered as Alina stuck her tongue at you. “What, I know a hot man when I see one.” You admitted.

“Yeah well, good luck trying to get into his pants.” She countered, a smirk on her face. She walked you to her door before giving you a quick hug and wishing you goodnight. As soon as she closed the door, you were alone again. Even in a hall filled with people, you had never felt more alone, more out of place. At least with the First Army you were surrounded by fellow soldiers, while here you were surrounded by Grisha who didn’t know you even existed.

The journey back to your room consisted of you constantly hugging the wall for stability. You thought you hadn’t drunk that much but the effect of the Kvas had just started hitting you more harshly. You’d probably woken up a Grisha or two with your annoying giggling while you mumbled to yourself. Before you know it, someone is walking up to you, their arm supporting your waist as they rest your arm atop their shoulders.

“Oh, hello Mr. General, sir.” You tried to salute him, but failed miserably. You could see the corners of his mouth slightly turn up as he tried to fight it.

“I assume you had a good time?” He questioned as he made his way back to your room.

“Yes, it would’ve been better if you were there.” You suggested, wagging your eyebrows. Sooner than you’d like, you arrived at your door. The Darkling gently laid you onto the bed as he went to take off your shoes, leaving them at the foot of your bed. He lit the lantern that had been placed on the side table. Before he could leave, you grabbed his hand.

“Thank you for walking me back. Goodnight..” You didn’t know what came over you, but the words left your lips before you could even think to stop, “..my darkling.”

If you had stayed awake for a few more seconds, you would’ve seen the genuine smile that came to his face. His fingers stroking your hair, tucking some behind your ear.

“Goodnight, my darling.”

-

A/N: sorry this took so long lol. I was quite busy over the weekend. I usually post every other day. But my question is if y'all like shorter, more frequent updates, or longer updates. Obviously the longer updates wouldn’t be posted every other day. Most likely once a week though. However I enjoy writing and posting every other day because it keeps me motivated. 

Mizpah tag: @all-art-is-quite-useless @devilxangel @musicconversedance @parabatai-winchester @runawayolives @tartiflvtte @rbg1933 @thatguppienamedbae @batgal96 @thebarisinhell99 @5hundreddaysofsummer @kaqua @queenseneschal @benbarnes-supremacy @princessofpersia96 @takethee @dontjinx-it @freakytillthemoon @amortentiaaaa @marvel-ousnesss @coolninjavoid @areomalfoy @pansysgirlfriend @universalirwin @leavejuliaalone @xx-winwin-wednesday-xx @honeyofthegods @lunamyangel @d-list-goddess @comphersjost@telepathdestiel @the-celestial-kitsune @thestoryofmylife9 @s-corpionem @pancakeisreading @sanna2020 @secretsandtinyshadows @savannah-elliott @maliasblue @tea-effect @disneyandharrypotter @futuristicpinklemur @tanyaherondale @the-puff-is-strong-with-this-one @hxgreeves @yourboiialucard @thereeallink @ladyblablabla @wolfieellsworld @p3nny4urth0ught5 @louweasleymalfoy @the-natureofme @itsloveroflife @oddlittleminx @within-thehollowcrown @itsfangirlmendes @heyyimlaynna @jgtfvhsg @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @auggie2000 @itsnotquimey @jtownraindancer @sonnensplitter​ @sarcastic-and-cool​ @poulterfilms​ @spookybooisa​ @stickyknightflowerbailiff​ @hollandsweetie​

S.a.B. forever tag: @deceivedeer

[black-rose-writings]

Disclaimer: This is a coming together post attempting to give anti-Darkling people insight into how we, the darkling stans, view him, to hopefully reduce the strawmanning in this fandom. For this reason, I am tagging this with some of the things I’m criticising. This isn’t a hate post against anyone and anything. It’s a criticism of Leigh Bardugo and the choices she had made in writing the Grishaverse.

Every time I accidentally come across anti-Darkling (and related) posts, it feels like I’ve read totally different books than the other person.

It’s also different in the way the posts are written.

It feels like the anti-Darkling people have a fundamental misunderstanding of pro-Darkling people.

I’ll admit, I’m speaking for myself and for the people in my orbit and there may very well be Darkling stans who unironically think he did nothing wrong.

Because most of us don’t think that.

We know he’s done plenty of terrible things. The books are doing a pretty good job of bashing that one over our heads.

We’re not saying the Darkling isn’t a villain in the story - we’re saying he shouldn’t have been written as one in the first place.

Our criticisms are, fundamentally, on the meta level. What we’re criticising is the narrative, framing and writing choices and the messages the story is sending, intentional and unintentional.

The Darkling is simply the best character to use to illustrate this on.

LB wrote a deeply flawed and dark world, with a highly persecuted minority at its center, then decided to apply fairytale morality to it and make the only protector this group of people has had in centuries the villain of the story.

She wrote a universe meant for political drama, then used it as a setting for a romance story.

The Grishaverse is a clusterfuck of missed opportunities for in interesting story, social commentary or philosophical debates, and messages ranging from decent through baffling to outright dangerous.

When we write out lists of characters’ bad deeds, we’re doing it because they’re ignored by the story and the characters in question (Mal, Baghra, Zoya etc.) are being treated as flawless and 100% good by the narrative. I like the idea of most of the characters I criticise in theory, I just dislike the execution of them.

When we complain about how Alina shouldn’t have lost her powers, what we’re complaining about is the way the story treats consequences and stakes. Which is to say, by mostly ignoring them (I will probably go in depth about this more later).

When we complain about Baghra, what we’re really complaining about is the double standard between the characters LB likes and doesn’t like, where the latter has all fo their even remotely bad deeds called out, shamed and punished, while the same thing is completely ignored in the former.

Our problems are with bad writing, lack of research and tact on sensitive subjects, choice of tropes and framing that is pretty outdated, and the overall lack of thought behind the series.

If you want to enjoy the books as they are, if you like Mal or Malina, or think Baghra is a badass MILF, I don’t think any of us care. Do what makes you happy. It’s fine to take a story at face value and not thing about it too deeply.

But please, for the love of the Saints, don’t bash people who chose to look at that story from a different angle than you. Most of us are aware that the Darkling’s actions are morally reprehensible from our 21st century mortal perspective. We know Darklina in basically any variation is going to be toxic as fuck. We know being with a guy like him IRL would fucking suck.

And please, remember that while we’re probably not going to meet a seductive immortal, who wants to use our power to take over the world for the greater good, there’s plenty of Mals running around and they can be just as damaging and toxic to you as said handsome immortal.

[thedarklingxalina]

Darklina Smut Fics Recs

For anyone looking for some darklina smut fanfics. Feel free to add any recommendations (including self recs!) or drop me an ask for other recs. If anyone is looking for general darklina fanfics, here's another recommendation list.

Winter Fete Smut

Colours by hanpersands

Summary: The night of the fete, the Darkling visits Alina’s room after all. A what-if scenario, based on the idea that Baghra never came, and he did.

i'll be waiting by larry_hysterek

Summary: or if alina stayed and didn't leave after the winter fete.

pretty much just smut with some implications of alina going slightly dark

good things come to those who wait by peachykeenjellybean

Summary: "Did you want me to come to you tonight, Alina?” He asks. His voice is deep. So low she can barely hear him.

She doesn’t answer. She stares with her mouth parted, ready to answer him, but nothing comes out. She’s too afraid to tell him yes.

He tips his chin down and raises an eyebrow expecting an answer."

OR: The Darkling visits Alina after the Winter Fete but he makes her wait. Wait until she's begging.

all of my goodness is goin' with you now by cursebreakker

Summary: The Darkling comes to Alina's room after the winter fete.

uninterrupted by cursebreakker

Summary: the winter fete make out session revisited, and this time they go all the way.

Embracing the darkness by beekathony

Summary: "Alina," he said, and I could see that he was fighting with himself, "can I come to you tonight?"

What should have happened if the Darkling visited Alina that night after the winter fete.

Canon Divergence

i am singing now as rome burns (mash your mouth against me) by bellemon

Summary: “Don’t say her name. You killed her,” he hisses, fingers closing around her neck, even as his thumb caresses the curve of her throat, even as his fingers intertwine with the fall of hair that lies at her nape. “She died for you.”

“She died because of you,” Alina snarls, even as she leans into his touch, even as she hates herself for it. “We both killed her.”

He gives a growl of rage and surges toward her. For a moment, the rage in Alina’s heart gives way to fear, to relief, to desire. He’s going to kill me.

But then he is kissing her, lips crashing against hers like flint on steel, and isn’t that the same thing?

---- Alina does not resist the pull of their tether. The Darkling welcomes her in his own way.

(Or, Alina and The Darkling are just two people hiding their Thirst through power plays)

in the dying lamplight by ellewhile

Summary: I looked into Mal’s eyes—his familiar blue eyes that I knew even better than my own. Except they weren’t blue. In the dying lamplight, they glimmered quartz gray.

He smiled then, a cold, clever smile like none I’d ever seen on his lips.

“I missed you too, Alina.”

Instead of responding with fear, Alina responds with anger. A different take on the scene where he comes to her.

Bedroom Hymns by destinies

Summary: “The consummation, no, that was not ‘fun.’ I have lived too long and done too much for mere physical release to be ‘fun.’ But it was necessary to seal the marriage, and you agreed to it… Every other time, I waited for you to seek me out. And I found that infinitely more rewarding.”

The Darkling and the Sun Summoner's wedding night, and other nights, scattered over the decades that follow.

Overcome by coldnightsandcoffee

Summary: In which Alina learns the Darkling's name and what would have happened had she stayed. AKA, I hate how that scene ended so I'm offering an alternate scenario.

Or: just another excuse to write Darklina smut. We can never have enough of that.

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of by RoseAlenko (the_darkling)

Summary: This is the way it is between the two of them, an inexorable attraction that accompanies their every meeting. And if finally giving in means falling prey to his designs, then she’s happy to be devoured.

Midnight Prayers by vuas

Summary: “Shh,” he murmurs, cradling her face in his warm palm. “Stay still. No tears now, milaya. You’ll take what you’re given.”

“But—“

“Mercy,” he leans up to kiss her wet cheek. “Is for saints.”

Vsegda, Always by vuas

Summary: “An heir?”

Alina hacks up half her tea, spoiling one of her finer dressing gowns. She’s too busy dabbing at the mess with napkins, cheeks warm, to notice the bemused look her husband gives over the top of the newspaper from where he sat reading across the breakfast table.

She quickly learns he isn’t joking.

(Or: Aleksander Morozova asks his wife for a baby, and she doesn't find herself opposed to the idea.)

Between Midnights by vuas

Summary: “You’re my wife, my sun summoner,” he continues undeterred, hot breath fanning over her neck. “You’re mine. I can do whatever I please with you. Why shouldn’t I kiss you?”

[rietveldbrothers]

ice ice baby

a/n: its that time of year again, @grishaversebigbang posting time and here’s what I got for y’all!

this AU grabbed my by the neck and dragged me along with it. Reuben and Eva made some absolutely lovely creations to go along with this fic so be sure to check those out and give ‘em a reblog

and as usual, thanks to @reapersbarge for saving you all from my crimes against the english language

Materialki: @6crowgang [link] & @oretsov [link]

Summary: Mal Oretsev and Zoya Nazyalenksy are the biggest rivals in professional hockey. Too bad their partners compete together in Ice Dance and its impossible to escape one another.

aka 5 times Zoya and Mal were rivals and 1 time they also were rivals but different.

Ao3 Link

part 1 under the cut:

To say Zoya Nazyalensky hated Malyen Oretsev would be an understatement. She loathed him. She despised him. She hated every fiber of his being. She could not get rid of him.

Here she was, on her Sunday off, on a Nike shoot, and he was right there with her. Because could Nike possibly shoot for their new training set with just Zoya alone? No, of course. If one of their star hockey players had to be there, so did the other. Not that Zoya would admit Oretsev was a star. Not publicly anyway.

“How ya doing, Nazyalensky?” He greeted her in that way that was technically nice, but the way he grinned down at her set her teeth on edge. “Nikolai mentioned you hadn’t been feeling well.”

“Nikolai is an idiot who shouldn’t be talking to you.”

“So you are not feeling well?”

“I’m perfectly fine to pound your ass into the boards next Saturday.” Zoya sniffed imperiously. Mal’s team was her’s top rival and both of them were good this year, both strong playoff contenders. People were already disappointed that being in the same division meant one team would have to knock the other out before the cup finals. She had every intention of doing the knocking.

“Alright, Mal? Zoya? Can we have you two over here please?” The photographer interrupted any response Oretsev could have come up with in that pea brain of his, and moved them around under the lights.

Zoya was a professional. She was excellent at her job and sponsorships were part of that job. Which meant photoshoots were part of that job. And Zoya excelled at photoshoots. Mal Oretsev… also excelled at photoshoots. Which was annoying. His hair was nearly as long as hers was, which she was starting to take personally, and the shoot assistants kept cooing over him as they arranged him under the photographers direction. She had no idea what Starkov saw in the idiot. Here he was shooting grins at everyone in sight as she reluctantly allowed herself to be positioned next to him. For once, the photographer was going for determined instead of happy or loving. Zoya’s game face was legendary already.

She could admit the photos they were shown afterwards looked good. Zoya always looked good, but it wasn’t like she wouldn’t have looked just as good on her own. She didn’t need to spend her entire morning with Oretsev’s stupid charms spilling over to infect everyone else present. By the time she could leave, she felt slimy with it. Nikolai had better not be late to pick her up; she was already regretting letting him drop her off in the first place.

To her immense regret, Nikolai was indeed waiting for her, but he was not alone. Alina Starkov’s white blonde hair caught the sunlight right next to where Nikalai was waiting at his car. The two appeared to be in an animated conversation of some sort, perhaps about the free skate they were currently workshopping, based on the way Alina was waving her arms about. For someone with so much grace on the ice, she was remarkably jerky in the parking lot under midday sun.

Mal rushed by her to swing Alina up in a dramatic hug, as if it had been days since he’d seen her. They were always like that, though–disgustingly adorable, which she supposed was a symptom of being recently engaged. Either that or they were just gross; either was possible.

She allowed Nikolai to drop a kiss to her cheek and tried to usher him into the car.

“So Alina and I were thinking,” Nik started, “What if we grabbed a late lunch? You know, the four of us?”

So thats what this was then.

An ambush.

“I don't know if that’s–” “Maybe another–”

Mal and Zoya spoke over one another trying to come up with reasons not to. However much Oretsev’s golden retriever personality refused to allow him to be rude to her face in front of Alina, Zoya was well aware that her dislike was mutual. They exchanged a glance. Solidarity with him certainly did not feel good, but if it got her out of spending the next few hours with him, she’d swallow down her discomfort. If Nikolai thought he was getting any action after this stunt, he was wildly mistaken. Even if he was about to leave for four days.

“You two are silly.” Alina’s voice was light but Zoya could see her grip on Oretsev’s arm tighten. “You like each other, you just refuse to admit it. Come on, Nikki and I already made reservations so I don’t want to hear any excuses. Genya and David are going to join us.”

“Surprised you didn’t invite Tamar and Nadia while you were at it,” Zoya grumbled.

“We did!” Nikolai was proud to chime in, “Adrik and Leoni too. Tolya is still out of town or he’d be in for sure.”

“So how many people?” Mal perked up at this considerably. Zoya figured she agreed it was good news, the more people there, the less she had to interact with him.

“Oh it’s just the Safin-Kostyk’s.” Nik sighed, “Tamar and Nadia are too good for us, of course. Enjoying the nice weather. And Leoni had ice time this afternoon.”

“Her short program is stunning. I was watching her choreograph the other day,” Alina chimed in.

Damn. Tamar would have easily occupied Oretsev; they were teammates after all.

Before she could come up with another argument against lunch, she found herself in the passenger seat of Nikolai’s car and pulling out onto the road.

Nikolai was definitely not getting any tonight.

[hopskipaway]

a malina ficlet for @nonbinarychaoticstupid to celebrate @malinalovebot’s birthday.

FRIDAY, I’M IN LOVE.

SATURDAY (wait).

The first thing Mal registered when he woke was the buzzing of his phone. Picking it up and squinting to read past the harsh light, he cursed his past self for ever agreeing to be gym buddies with Tolya Yul-Bataar.

He liked Tolya, he really did. He also loved going to the gym. Combining the two, it seems, might be more than he can bargain for.

With a groan, he hauls himself out of bed. Quickly throwing together a gym bag and rushing out to the kitchen to prepare a protein shake.

“Malyen Oretsev!” A voice called from the other room. “It is six thirty in the morning on a Saturday. If you don’t shut up, I will not hesitate to kick you out.”

“It’s your fault I'm up this early, Nikolai.” Mal yelled back. “You’re the one who introduced me to Tolya.”

Nikolai’s door swung open and the man stood in the doorway, face petulant and hair a mess.

“I told you, it’s your funeral.”

“I’m okay with going to the gym. It’s just— is he going to be so… preachy? The whole time? He’s already making us go get coffee at some weird shop rather than the Starbucks that’s just across from the gym.”

“Undoubtedly,” Nikolai grins. “Just wait until he starts to bounce his poetry ideas off of you.”

Saints help me, Mal thought.

SUNDAY (always comes too late).

So maybe it wasn’t all bad, but Mal wasn’t going to tell anyone that least of all Tolya.

Which brought him here, outside Wraith’s Cafe for the second day in a row. He still didn’t understand the elaborate gimmick. The baristas were called “Heartrenders” and all the coffees had increasingly confusing names. He didn’t even like coffee all that much.

What he did like, however, was the cute barista— no, Heartrender that served them yesterday.

Walking into the small shop, he scanned behind the counter for any sign of the dark haired girl. She shouldn’t be hard to miss, she had been wearing a bright red “trainee” badge yesterday. Joining the line, his shoulder slumped when he only saw two girls working, neither the girl from yesterday.

“Hi there,” Called the red headed one. “What can I get you?”

“Um,” Mal stuttered. “Surprise me?”

The petite dark haired one laughed from where she was preparing a drink. “I don’t know if you want Nina to give you any surprises.”

“I’ll be nice, Inej. This one looks nice.”

“Hopefully not too nice.”

Nina gasped, suddenly and dramatically. “Of course not! You know I only have eyes for you, my love.”

Mal awkwardly paid for his mystery drink, and stood back to watch the two girls flit around each other in what looked like a very practiced dance.

“Is it just the two of you?” He found himself blurting out without permission from his brain.

“Yes, but we manage, don’t we?” The small one, Inej replies.

“We do,” Nina confirms. “Our staff is small but mighty. It gets busier during the school season, though. If you are looking for a job, follow our Instagram and wait and see.”

She points to a sign declaring @thewraith with a wink.

Mal had no intention of finding a job, but it could come in handy for other things.

(i don’t care if) MONDAY(‘s blue).

It wasn’t creepy.

It wasn’t. So what if he followed the store’s Instagram just to figure out what Barista Girl’s name was.

It worked, either way.

Alina.

Her name was Alina.

Weirdly enough, it felt familiar to him. It felt as though something was ringing in his consciousness when he read it. He tries to think of any Alina’s he might have known from Keramzin, but none come to mind. Not that he remembered a lot of his years as a child anyway. Between losing his biological parents and the orphanage, it wasn’t always the happiest times. He’d have to ask his parents if they have any lists or yearbooks stashed away back home. He wanted to be able to shake this feeling, but he couldn’t.

Alina. Alina. Alina. Alin-

“MAL!” Nikolai shouted from across the couch. “Get your ass off your phone and play FIFA with me.”

Pocketing his phone, he shot Nikolai a dirty look.

“You’re just grumpy, your precious coffee shop is closed today.” Nikolai teased.

“I told you! Tolya was right for once, they just have good coffee.”

“Uh-huh. No other reason, I’m sure.”

It wasn’t creepy!

TUESDAY (grey).

With classes officially started, it seemed reasonable to go get a cup of coffee before his afternoon started.

Sure, the Wraith Cafe was entirely out of his way, and he would have to take two different buses to get there from campus, but it was only logical.

If Alina happened to be working, well it was just a happy coincidence.

Nina was there again, and Mal had requested the same drink she made him last time.

He overheard Nina instruct Alina to make it, and when she was finished she called out to Mal.

“Hi, I hope it’s alright.” Alina blushed. “I’m still new and that was a bit tricky.”

“Hi!” Mal stupidly echoed back, internally wincing at his out of character awkwardness. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

He took a giant sip, just to prove it.

His mouth was quickly overtaken by an indescribable taste. If he had to try and put a name to it, it might have been dirt.

Plastering a smile on his face that he hopes doesn’t look like a grimace, he lets out a weak “It’s great!”

Alina doesn’t seem to believe him, and Mal catches Nina rushing to the back with laughter clear on her face.

“I’m so so so sor—“

Mal cuts her off with a wave of his hands, and notices his phone vibrating.

“Actually, I have to go.” Mal tells her. “Thank you for the coffee, I loved it. Really.”

Stuffing five dollars into the tip jar, Mal rushes out of the building before Alina can say anything else.

and WEDNESDAY (too).

Mal was feeling pretty good about himself.

He didn’t go to the coffee shop, he didn’t check Instagram, he didn’t even think about Alina.

He was out for wings and beers, a Wednesday traditional hailing back from their first year. Nikolai, Tolya and Tamar were huddled around the pub’s little table.

“So, Mal,” Tamar started. “How’s the workouts going? Wanted to kill my brother yet?”

“No, of course not! Only maim him at best.”

“He introduced Mal to his new favourite place.” Nikolai interjected.

“Don’t even start Nik.” Mal warned.

“What’s all this about?” Mal didn’t like the sudden gleam in Tamar’s eyes. Even Tolya looked to be hiding a smile.

“Our boy’s got a little crush on one of the baristas.” Nikolai explained. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like this, it’s quite cute actually.”

“There’s nothing going on!” Mal exclaimed. “If I buy us the next round, will you all can it?”

“Yes of course, I won’t utter one more word.” Nikolai replied solemnly.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Tamar added.

Giving them one last look, Mal approached the bar and tried to get bartenders attention. Seeing how busy the place was, Mal sits on a stool and opens up his phone and checks Twitter.

“I said I wouldn’t say anything else.” Nikolai yells.

THURSDAY (i don’t care about you).

“Listen to Bert and Ernie.” Nikolai says from over Mal’s shoulder. Mal jerks his phone out of sight of his prying eyes.

“Mikhael and Dubrov,” Mal corrects. “And no.”

“No? What’s the issue? You asked out The Zoya Nazyalensky back in freshman year.”

“Actually, she asked me out.”

“That’s even worse Mal!” Nikolai groans. “The hottest girl on campus asks you out, and you’re still getting all shy over this coffee girl? You said she seemed friendly today.”

“You ask out Zoya and I’ll ask you Alina.”

“No way.” Nikolai replies. “I don’t have a death wish. Let me come with you tomorrow, I can be your wingman.”

“I think I’m confused, do you want me to go out with Alina or not?”

“I’m the best wingman and you know it!”

“Last time you tried, I’m pretty sure the girl thought that you were my boyfriend.”

Nikolai grins. “Well, it’s not my fault we’re both so handsome together.”

“Oh piss off.” Mal warns. “I’ll ask her tomorrow. By myself.”

FRIDAY (i’m in love).

He could do this.

He just had to go in there, ask for a coffee and then give her his number.

Easy. Simple.

Difficult.

“Hi there Alina!” He greeted.

She gave him a funny look, a small smile forming on her face, “How do you know my name.”

“Oh!” Mal floundered. “I heard uh… Inej! Yeah Inej use it the other day.”

Alina turned around to look at Inej, smile only growing larger. Inej merely shrugged and turned back to Nina.

“Well it’s not fair that I don’t know your name.”

“Mal! Malyen, to be specific.” Mal could feel his stomach turning, he’d never felt so nervous in his life.

“Malyen… I used to know a Malyen.” She mused. “Nevermind though, I guess I should ask what you want?”

“Oh yeah of course, let’s see…” Mal trailed off. Not knowing how else to continue the conversation, Mal placed his order and stepped to the side to wait.

Alina kept looking at him while she was making the drink, and Mal could feel his cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

Finally, she walked over drink in hand.

“Well… here you go, Mal.”

“Yeah… I guess, I guess I’ll see you later?” Mal didn’t make a move to leave.

Mal and Alina stared at each other for a moment.

The moment turned into two. Three. Four.

“Oh for Saint’s sake!” Nina yelled, storming over.

“Mal, this is Alina. Alina, this is Mal. You clearly both fancy each other, so Alina why don’t you take your break now and have a real conversation for once.”

“Uh—“

“I…”

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Nina laughed, “What do you do for school? How old are you? Last names? Where are you from?”

Arts. Environmental Science.

Twenty. Twenty-one.

Starkov. Oretsev.

Keramzin. Keramzin.

“Wait… You’re Mal, from Keramzin?” Alina asked.

“Yeah, why… wait, Alina?” Mal nearly drops his coffee. “You moved away when we were young, you got adopted, you…”

“…We’re my best friend.” Alina finishes.

Mal’s jaw dropped and he felt as though he had to physically pick it up from the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Inej and Nina whispering.

Inej kissed Nina on the cheek before walking over. “How about you take the rest of the day off, Alina? I think you have a lot of catching up to do.”

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter 3)

A/n I CANNOT believe how many people have supported this story,, I’m so excited to continue it with you guys :)) 

Just a reminder that while this is based off the show i hope to blend in some book aspects/vibes and this is just a fanfic and it won’t be completely accurate/follow the show 100% and any changes I make/parts I chose not to focus on are for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell 

-- 

I can’t tell if I wish Kaz had let me go with Inej or not. She’s faster than I am, and considering that I have no real reason to be loyal to them, I’m a flight risk. That means I’m stuck here with only the Kaz Brekker and Jesper, who I tricked. I hadn’t exactly befriended Inej entirely in the few minutes I was alone with her, but she seemed more trustworthy than them. More susceptible to reason. And when she heard where I was from, who was responsible for raising me, something in the way she watched me changed. It was the oddest combination--a look of both tired sympathy and cautious admiration.

“What I don’t understand…” Jesper breaks the silence. “Is why you all go back there. He lets you leave, he gives you money--there’s no reason to return.” 

I try not to let the question anger me. I shift awkwardly, scratching at my palm. “We tried leaving.” My stomach knots. “Once.” How do I make them understand? “He caught us because we young and stupid, and then he…” I exhale slowly. They’re just words. They don’t change anything. Whether I speak them or not, the events of my history aren’t different. “He picked the youngest, a girl only six months younger than me, and he slit her throat from ear to ear and took a finger of anyone that flinched as her blood splattered onto them. He said her blood was our penance and to live with knowing what we did to her would be our punishment.” 

I don’t tell them that I was twelve. I don’t tell them Anya lied about my birthday on the records. I don’t tell them I’m missing the very tip of my pinky--a small punishment for the twitch of my lip. “When Kenya is truly angry, he never hurts you--he hurts those around you.” No one responds to that. They’re making me seem like such a bummer. “It’s not awful all the time...he borders on agreeable when you listen to him.” 

Most days we have peace, left to our own devices as long as we accomplish certain goals. Their silence does little to unnerve me. After speaking so freely of such a nightmare, the desire to be rid of the taste of those words from my mouth is almost overwhelming, but I hold to the silence. 

“Why has he never sold you to the grisha that are so desperate for you?”

Of course Kaz Brekker would ask a question like that. “He isn’t the business of money, he’s in the business of creating gods. He indentures people he thinks could one day become saints or something else entirely. He wants to be owed by the heavens.” 

I watch Kaz carefully, a part of me curious about how someone like him could react to a goal like that. I can see him understanding the ambition of it all, but I can’t imagine himself a person of faith. Perhaps he’ll think it a clever trick. Perhaps he’ll even agree with Kenya.

He nods once; something I get nothing from. 

Whatever. He can be coy and distant this entire time. They all can. I’ll be out of here soon enough, and I’ll find Anya. And if I can stop something bad from happening to Alina then that’s a bonus I’m willing to take risks for. 

“That man is awful.” 

Inej’s voice comes from right behind me. I snap my head around. “You’re in here.” 

She nods once, oblivious to how shocking her sudden appearance is. She hands me a knapsack casually, staring at Kaz. “What’s the plan? We have six hours.” 

I look around the room, only seeing one closed window and one closed door. “There’s one door in this room.” 

“We take the Inferni to the ship.” He doesn’t even bother looking in my direction. 

Okay, they can be mean to be all they want but they can’t ignore me. I don’t think I’ve ever been ignored in my entire life. Gods in the making get attention. It may be the cruel attention of fate, but it’s something. 

“Did she come in through the window?” 

Again, I am ignored. 

“And then what, boss?” Jesper casually crosses the room, sitting down next to me on the small couch. It’s like I’m not even here. “We’d need to break into the Little Palace to get Alina.” 

What? “You guys are going to--” No. No. I am not kidnapping Alina. And there’s no way she’d be in the Little Palace. “First off--if you want to kidnap Alina Starkov for whatever insane ploy you’re all playing at, you’d never find her at Little Palace. She’s not a Grisha and second--” I cut myself off, standing from my seat. “Why am I even telling you this? I shouldn’t be helping you kidnap her.” 

Kaz’s eyes dart to me boredly. At least it’s some kind of acknowledgement of my existence. “I thought you two weren’t close.” 

I seriously consider scorching him. Just a little. Not even enough to scar him, just enough to get him to shut up. “She’s still a person who has a right to her body and what happens to it.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but if we pull this off we get one million kruge.” 

What does he think I’m going to say? ‘Okay, well as long as you’re doing it for a good reason.’ Is that the response he expects. “Okay, well that makes it fair.” 

His eyes narrow skeptically, but Jesper is the one to ask, “Really?” 

“No,” I scoff, slumping back into my seat, “I was being sarcastic.” 

I drop my head back, neck craning over the back of the small couch. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it makes it easier to ignore them. I’ve kept worse company for less. There’s an odd silence for a long second. I look forward without moving, I see Kaz vaguely gesture in Inej’s direction.

“Y/n,” Inej’s voice is refreshingly measured, “I think after the kinds of things we’ve gone through we understand that there’s some relativity in morality.” 

I shift my head to the right so I can look at her. “...Yes, but you’re just forcing another girl into a similar situation.” Why is Alina even worth so much? “And why would anyone pay so much for Alina?” 

Inej hesitates, glancing at Kaz and then back at me. “She’s a Sun Summoner.” 

On instinct, I straighten entirely, my body rigid. They’re insane. “You all are cracked if you think Alina’s a Sun Summoner.” No. No. It couldn’t be her. “Bless your hearts, seriously, she’s--she was trained to be a map maker--she’s not…” None of them relax, none of them shift in any way. What good would lying about this bring them? They have no reason to lie about this. “Saints, I should have had more to drink while downstairs.” 

So what if she’s a Sun Summoner? She didn’t ask to be one. She doesn’t deserve this. I cross my arms. “It doesn’t make this okay.” 

“And would it make it okay if you were getting a cut of the profit?” What? 

Kaz is looking at me in that tactful way. It takes all of my focus to not let myself become unnerved. “What?” 

“If I offered you a cut, would you be able to push aside more protests in order to make working with you easier?” 

Could I do it? Could I betray Alina? I drop my gaze away from his, opting to focus on the forgotten lantern on the coffee table in front of me. It flickers to life with no conscious prompting on my part. The flame is low and blue. Still though, Kaz notices it. What doesn’t he notice? 

“I can help you do what I agreed to.” I swallow around a lump in my throat, “But I cannot help you kidnap Alina.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs downwards. “We’re just going to get her to work with us.” 

“Work with you?” 

“We never said anything about taking her, and if Alina is really your friend you should know that the entire world is after her. Better us who can get her out of an unwanted situation quickly than the brutal General Kirigan who will hold her hostage until she does what he wants.” 

...I guess he has a point. “Oh.” I’m not naive enough to think that their methods will revolve around making Alina comfortable, but perhaps it’s not as dark as I assumed. “Maybe I was a little quick to assume…” I trail off awkwardly, looking at Inej for some type of reassurance. She avoids my gaze. 

I scratch the back of my arm, feeling like a spiraling child. I pick up my knapsack and place it on my lap, fiddling with the strap. 

“Come on,” Kaz stands, adjusting his grip on his cane, “We only have until sunrise.” 

As I stand, I pull down the skirt of my dress, suddenly aware of how inappropriate my clothing is for this late in the night. “Can--can I change first?” 

It’s a sheepish question, leaving me feeling like a child. 

“Five minutes,” Kaz offers, stepping out of the room with the rest of them. 

Inej leaves last, feet more silent than a cat. She offers me the tiniest hint of a smile. Despite my reservations, I beam at her. Something about me finds her politeness endearing despite it all. I think she closes the door loudly on purpose, to assure me of privacy. 

Normally changing in a building so full of drunk men would leave me nervous, but knowing Inej is outside leaves me feeling safe. I may not trust her with my life but something about her being tells me she values personal autonomy enough to protect it. 

I sift through the belongings Inej brought me. Clean underwear I try not think of her searching for, a thin white dress, comfortable pants, shorts, a few casual shirts, my red hood, and a nightgown. When I get to the bottom of the bag, and I see the personal belongings Inej smuggled back for me, I’m moved so powerfully my hand flies to my mouth on instinct. She had brought the folded up piece of paper with the only information I’ve been able to find about Kamil, the book I left on my nightstand, the small candle holder Alina had given me the day before I was taken away, the blade Mal had given me the day I left, the deck of playing cards Anya had first taught me to play with, and my mother’s necklace. The silver north star on a long chain. 

Before I can become too emotional, I take off the Crow’s Club T-shirt Inej had given me when I looked cold. I change into black pants, tucking the small blade Mal had given me into the pocket. The shirt I put on is pale blue, breaking the dark theme of everything around me. I fasten my red hood over my shoulders, basking in the familiar fabric. Lastly, I pull the north star necklace over my head, watching the blue orb with a black dot at its center blink at me in the light. I always found the stone at the pendant’s center odd. I'm quick to walk towards the door, nervous about what wasting their time could mean. 

“Let’s do this,” I sigh, pushing open the door. 

They all pause. Or maybe they were never moving. I try to imagine them interacting normally, but it’s hard to picture them as anything but intense and unflinching. There’s something odd about them, though, Jesper practically sulking and Kaz dropping his head despite Inej’s harsh stare.

“What kind of stone is in your necklace?” 

I swear to the Saints that if Kaz Brekker tries to steal it I’ll melt those leather gloves into his hands. “Try to take it and--” 

“That’s what I get for trying to make ‘polite conversation.’” He throws a look at Inej as he speaks the last two words. 

Wait--did Inej tell him to try to make polite conversation? Wait--more importantly, did he just kind of, almost say something that borders on casual? 

Wrinkling my nose, I let out a slight sigh. “Sorry.” 

His eyebrows draw together quizzically. “Did you just apologize for assuming I’d steal from you?” 

Great. Now I’m fully embarrassed. “Can we just go?” 

“Not before meeting me, I hope.” The stranger’s voice means nothing to me, but the others tense at it immediately. What? The man continues to walk forward, his steps too casual and confident for me to trust. The stranger is quick to respond to the question on my face, “Pekka Rollins.” 

--

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[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Fire and Darkness Chapter 10

The Darkling x reader

Word Count: 1292

Summary: Alina in the Fold, and some secrets are revealed.

Your eyes narrowed when she was brought into the tent. It was bad enough to tolerate her before she knew there was a more sinister plot brewing in Ravka, but now? You absolutely were not looking forward to dealing with her now. Mild surprise lanced through you when she returned your hate-filled gaze with one of her own. Inwardly, you were amused; the lost little lamb had finally grown a bit of a spine, had she?

“Leave us,” Aleksander’s harsh order pulled Alina’s eyes to him instead, that glare only intensifying when it landed on him. “So why did you do it?”

She scoffed. “Do what?”

“Betray me. Were you so eager to believe the rumors about me that you bought into the stories of the first person that came along singing of my evildoings?”

“You want to use the Fold as a weapon!”

“I want to protect Ravka!” he snapped. “I want to save our people.”

“At the expense of everyone else!”

“This is war, little Sun Summoner,” his tone was every bit as cruel as his reputation. “Sometimes such attrocities are necessary.”

“And seducing me? Was that necessary as well? Or did you just do that for fun?”

You snorted. “The easiest way to manipulate a foolish little orphan is to offer her the one thing no one else will: love.”

“You’d know, I’m sure.”

That really shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did, shouldn’t have wounded you like that, but you still sometimes had nightmares about the night you and Aleksander were forced to flee and leave behind the only life you’d ever known. You still carried around an old key, worn down by centuries of worrying its surface, to the shed in the back of that old farm that you hadn’t realized was buried in your pocket when you left there never to return. No, you hadn’t been a lonely orphan like Alina. You knew exactly what it was like to have a family that loved you, and what it was like to lose them in an instant. After all, it’d never been safe enough to go visit your cousin. Some part of you knew from the start that hoping to was a pipe dream.

So yes, her little jab hit a tender spot you weren’t proud that you still harbored after all these years. On reflex, your left hand curled itself into a dangerous claw teeming with angry flames within its grasp.

And then Alina had the nerve to look like she’d won. “I thought your housekeeper was otkazat’sya, Aleksander?”

“Why you little--”

You’d been in the process of reaching for the brat with your right hand when your husband caught your wrist; immediately the flame in your other hand intensified. His cool eyes met yours calmly, though you could see the rage writhing just under the surface. “Do you know what I plan to do with your precious tracker, Alina?”

It was just that simple to change the focus of children like her. Single-minded to the end.

~

As usual when it came to dealing with the precious Sankta Alina, every aspect of the plan went sideways in a single instant. The shift from her being seemingly unable to use her power to slicing the saintsdamned mast in half was quick enough to give you mental whiplash. Panic erupted around you, and it was all you could do to fight it off as you failed to lay eyes on the man you loved. Then you caught sight of her running off the side of the ship--something that would have been hard to do if not for the blinding white light that emanated from her skin. Then you were falling as the skiff itself was Cut in half.

You hit the ground painfully, head knocking against something hard enough that it sent your ears ringing. A bright flame formed in the palm of your hand, lighting the wreckage. All you could hear for several seconds as you frantically looked around for Aleksander was your own panting.

Pant.

Nothing but bodies moving pitifully with pain.

Pant.

Blood and gore from the soldier that’d been standing in the wrong place when that blade of solid light hit the skiff. Your mind froze for a second at the way his blood sank into the lifeless sand beneath him.

Pant.

There. A cocoon of darkness moving quickly closer to you, likely Aleksander’s method of keeping the hungry volcra away from his flesh now that they’d started swarming.

You were yanked into that little zone of shadow as soon as he was close enough; you extinguished the fire. There was the sensation of lips moving against the skin of your neck, but for several long, terrifying moments you couldn’t hear what he was saying. When your ears decided to start working again, it still sounded far away.

“Dearheart, can you hear me?” Saints, it sounded like he was whispering.

“Barely!” His wince told you that you were speaking far too loud for him being this close. “Hit my head,” you explained at a more reasonable volume.

“You need to get us out of here,” he instructed. “Just like last time.”

Well, at least you could stop hiding what you were. You nodded, hoping your injury wouldn’t affect your control. The flames seemed to pour from your skin like Alina’s light did from hers in order to create a swirling wall of fire that the volcra couldn’t force their way through. A quiet chuckle--you assumed it was quiet, not that you could really tell--made you look over at Aleksander before the pair of you started moving to follow Alina.

“What?”

“Did I mention I had the fabrikators make this kefta?”

“They make all of the keftas,” you deadpanned. “Is now really the time for this?” Not waiting for an answer, you grabbed his hand and started walking. That was about the time you noticed that he was limping though you didn’t dare move your attention from your shield to see why.

“True enough, but this one is yours.”

“What are you--” You looked down at yourself in confusion.

Little did you know that Mal and Alina’s endurance had run out not far from the skiff, so she’d pulled her light in enough that the darkness of the Fold swallowed it while keeping it intense enough to protect them, and then your own little light show had made them turn around to see just what was happening back at that boat. Horror surged in both of them as they realized that the Black General had managed and would likely continue to survive this little excursion. 

“She’s not supposed to be a grisha,” Mal breathed, denial dripping from his voice like that soldier’s blood on the sand.

“Baghra warned me that she was an inferni,” Alina admitted softly. “But . . .” I didn’t imagine she was capable of anything like this . . .

As they watched through the gaps of that swirling fire, the truth of what you were literally started forming before their eyes. The embroidery on your kefta--the one you wore, you’d explained so long ago, because the Darkling wanted you safer than other otkazat’sya due to trustworthy housekeepers being so hard to find--turned a vibrant scarlet while the white bled into black because of the heat. Without a doubt, you were an inferni, but there was something about you that warranted being gifted a kefta in Kirigan’s color, something Alina had originally thought only she and him, himself wore. That tied with the sheer magnitude and control of your power being displayed as the pair of you limped in the direction the skiff had come made Alina’s mind whirl.

Perhaps Baghra had been mistaken. Perhaps the fact that you still lived wasn’t tied to merzost . . .

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 22

The Darkling x Reader

'The General is busy' Ivan stood blocking the door, not letting you through. His red silk kefta stood out like a warning sign in the dead of the hallway and his face a stony expression but you didn't miss the slight tinge of a condescending grimace.

'Ivan move away from the door.'

'The General wished to not be disturbed.'

'Ivan I could eat you for breakfast. Now move for your Deputy.' Whether it was your assertion of dominance, the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, or the firey shadows erupting from your hand, Ivan moved away from the door, defeated. You were done playing nice and done playing the diplomat. You were taking the evening off.

The doors were pushed wide open with a mere flick of your fingers, quickly meeting Aleksander's gaze already set on you. No doubt there was no need for such a dramatic entrance, but as you said, you were taking the evening off, Deputy Y/L/N has retired for the night. Y/N is here to play now and she doesn't fight fair.

There was someone right in front of him, a dirty and ragged First-Army soldier. If it weren't for the soldier's slight bow of the head in your direction, you would've guessed you walked in on a pissing contest.

'Hello Soldier'

'Deputy Y/L/N'

'You know who I am'

'Of course'

You smiled and looked at Aleksander, inspecting his face for any sign of emotion but all you were met with was a clenched jaw. 'The Stag?' A map of Ravka lay open next to him on the table but there was no indication on it of a precise location.

'Mr.Oretsev is bargaining. He won't give up the location if not for a meeting with our Sun-Summoner.' Oretsev. As in Mal Oretsev, Alina's tracker?

'And have you started to vet him? Cause from what I can see you're just standing here.'

His hands balled into fists at his side and he quickly moved past the tracker to you, grabbing your elbow tightly and dragging you out of the room and into the adjacent drawing-room. You shrugged him off just as roughly and shut the doors.

'Is this how you treat your second in command?' You brushed off your kefta, adjusting the sleeves.

'I'm getting really tired of you trying to show me up'

'Well I'm sorry I'm naturally more intimidating than you.'

Y/N and Aleksander were completely different from Deputy Y/L/N and General Kirigan. For as long as you could remember, you both kept work and life separate but now things somehow changed. The dynamics were shifting in nobody's favor. You unknowingly kept prodding for dominance which never happened before. Years ago, you were happy to listen to Aleksander, to do as he said, to go to sleep cuddled into his side having forgotten the workday, to put aside the orders he gave that didn't sit well with you. But now you craved to call the shots and he seemed to notice too.

'What do you want? I really do not have time for this.' He started pacing the room impatiently.

'Oh pray tell what is it that's so pressing? You can't get the location out of him without Alina finding out about the letters. Your lies are going to catch up with you' Didn't I tell you so.

'Can you not even pretend to be helpful?'

'No' You pursed your lips and crossed your arms.

'Have you spoken to the Queen?' He stopped pacing and waited for your answer, obviously eager to hear what the Tsaritsa had to say but despite the heartiness of the situation, you chose to stay quiet.

'No, I didn't.'

'Then do your job Deputy.' With that he swung open the door and walked out, the tension visible around him and palpitating as he strode out of view with Ivan trailing him. There it was, his small yet effective remark to remind you of your place. It was as if overnight he came to the conclusion that you were after his Grisha and was making it known you were just a Deputy and he was Aleksander Morozova, the Black Heretic and it angered you beyond reason.

*****

You found yourself right back next to Zoya with another drink in your hand. Although you felt it hitting you and relaxing all the muscles in your body, your mouth was glued shut when it came to spilling out all your problems for a shoulder to lean on.

'Zoya have you ever been proposed to?' You didn't know why you asked, but it slipped out. You could see her momentarily freeze but she covered it well with a flick of her ebony hair.

'All the time. Have you seen me? But it's always the poor and useless ones. The good ones don't want a weapon, they want a housewife'

'Wise words spoken by an even wiser woman'

'I accept credit where it's given' You both laughed and went back to meaningless conversation. Had you known when you arrived at the Little Palace that the sneering Squaler would become one of your closest friends and trusted soldiers, you would've laughed. She was still vexing and shrewd but behind all the remarks, you saw the true Zoya and you liked her.

She was very guarded, her walls built up so high from years in the Second-Army but sometimes her facade slipped. It would be the faintest look of sorrow on her face or a slight pause in her voice that would catch you off guard, slowly letting you piece together who Zoya really was. You had already come to a conclusion; she was the best damn soldier Ravka had ever seen and no doubt will amount to great things. Her fire burned bright and fervid and that's all it takes to be and do good.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of the Inferni twins following an oprichniki with a suspicious gaze. The alcohol might've been enough to dull your senses, but your job was still to protect the Palace and so you hastily excused yourself and followed the two from a distance. No doubt you caught the attention of many people as your gown trailed behind you and drew unnecessary attention. You looked ahead of the Inferni and studied the guard, noticing a limp. Now that you thought of it, you could've sworn the same guard had briefly conversed with a female guard too, one strikingly similar to the silks artist that dangled down next to the stairs. You shot a brief glance toward the staircase and sure enough, the silks were there but they were empty. Intruders.

You pursued the two men, noting their direction toward the chapel but another oprichniki suddenly blocked your way.

'Deputy, The General requests your presence right away.' The guard stood in front of you, the panic so vivid on his face it sobered you up substantially.

'What's the matter?' Your voice was short and annoyed as you watched the blue kefta disappear from your line of sight.

'We caught an intruder trying to escape after murdering Marie. The General thinks it is the conductor' At this you froze and your eyes widened twice their size. You suddenly felt a pang of guilt as Marie's name was mentioned. You were in charge of Marie and Alina, and if you had just done your job tonight instead of being in your head then maybe Marie would've been alive.

'And where was Genya Saffin?'

'She fought him off as much as she could but he fired at her'

'Saints' You were mad now. Not only was this man killing Grisha in their home, but he was the conductor. You had read Nina Zenik's reports about him, but knowing he somehow penetrated the walls of the Palace you had so tirelessly tried to fortify angered you beyond compare. The limping man, the silks artist, now this.

'Was he alone?'

'Seems so, Ivan and Zoya are interrogating him now, they wish for you to accompany them.'

'I'll be down momentarily, but for now come with me.' You nodded him to follow you as you hurried to the chapel not giving him a second to object. The noise of the party fizzled out, no foreign dignitary finding it appealing to pray to the Saints at this hour.

Your joined steps echoed through the golden halls and your heart rate picked up. This evening was turning sideways really quickly, maybe you shouldn't have had all those drinks. Maybe you should've told Aleksander about your predicament. Maybe you should have stayed with Marie instead. So many maybes.

You directed more guards your way as you walked, all of them silently obeying your command and not speaking. If you were right, the whole Palace was compromised and you would need reinforcements.

'You three head that way, I'll take this door.' You pointed down the hallway and turned into the door to your left. The chapel was silent and peaceful. The candles were all lit, begging to be witness to prayer, but the room itself screamed danger.

You listened for a heartbeat, felt the air for a body, but came up empty-handed. Still, you couldn't shake that strange creep of unease. Your feet took you behind the altar and between the pews, where with a gasp and a curse, you found the Inferni's body dead and surrounded in a puddle of his own blood. The gash in his head was obviously made with a knife, but the remnants of the blade were gone.

The rage flew through you like a ghost in a graveyard. A Grisha was murdered in a chapel. It felt like both a personal attack and an attack on all Grisha living in the Little Palace. The Inferni lying dead at your feet was killed in his home, murdered in the home of his Saints. You needed to find Aleksander and tell him. You needed to get the King and Queen out of here even though that would be the last thing you wanted to do.

But as soon as you found Aleksander in the courtyard facing Baghra, that unease turned into outright fear. Aleksander loved his mother, but the way he looked at her right now spoke the opposite of love. He always had doubts about her, always assumed she was scheming but she rarely ever acted. The fear pushed you to assume she definitely did something.

'What is it?' You were shivering, the bottom of your gown ruined now with dry leaves and dirt clinging to it as you made your way to the two. 'What have you done Baghra?' So much has already gone wrong.

She looked at you with a smirk, a smile that yelled in triumph 'I won' but uttered no words. You turned to Aleksander for an explanation. The shivering now chattering your teeth and turning your lips blue.

'Alina is gone, the tracker is dead'

All the air in your lungs vanished as your hands unknowingly went to wrap around the old woman's throat. 'You wretched old witch. How could you do this' Your words dripped in venom so vast it made you wince. She didn't respond to your assault in the slightest, just kept that condescending grin stuck on her lips.

You felt his hands grasping at your arms, roughly pulling you back from his mother and your chokehold. 'Y/N stop it' You didn't care about Alina too much, but purposely doing all of this to pull you and Aleksander off the rails was like a thorn in your side that never got pulled out in 98 years.

'Are you the one who killed the Inferni in the chapel too? Or the one who let intruders into my Palace? Huh? ANSWER ME' You pushed his arms away from you and ignored his questioning look. Baghra still said nothing, just shook her head as if in pity. 'Every time you leave that damn hut you cause nothing but trouble'

Taking a step back and then another, you forced yourself to walk to the dungeons to interrogate the conductor not caring if Aleksander followed you or not. If you didn't leave, you would've surely killed her.

-------

Part 23

Masterlist

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