#genya safin imagines

[heliads]

Hello Could i request Genya x Fem!Reader where Y/N is Nikolai's little sister and just about Genya's age so they used to play together a lot when they were little. Since Y/N was from the royal family she had little to no freedom and 0 opportunity to make friends, so Genya was her only one and they grew up together. I just picture her sneaking into Genya's room and climbing into her bed when she had a nightmare because the queen didn't like her sleep being disturbed and Genya braiding her hair until she calms down. Nnow that they're older, they're slowly learning that this friendship could be something more. Just a very soft childhood bestfriends to lovers, you know? Thank you anyway

'my home is you' - genya safin

masterlist

A lot is expected of the princess of Ravka. She must sit straight in every assembly, no matter how long or tedious the function. She must be able to converse with foreign dignities without seeming too exuberant or, worse still, not interested enough in many hours’ worth of old war stories. She must connect with her people, but still float above each and every crowd. And, most pressingly of all, she must be able to learn a hundred state secrets and then abstain from the urge to immediately gossip about them with her oldest friend. Especially if that friend is a Tailor and a lady’s maid to boot.

Genya Safin sits across the small round table from you, fingers idly tapping on the creamy tablecloth. In front of her rests a teacup, mostly untouched. Neither of you are here for the tea itself, more the information that comes with each and every delicate china cup. In the process of growing up and into your role as the darling princess of Ravka, you’ve been doing your best to maintain decorum. It would be wrong to immediately spill your true feelings on the latest round of political appointees to Genya. It would also be exactly what you want to do.

You take a sip from the cup in front of you as a way to buy yourself time. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into when you invited Genya over to your quarters for tea, but you’d like to at least try to hold out for as long as possible. You can do this. You don’t have to tell your best friend everything.

“Nice weather we’re having,” you muse.

Genya arches a brow. “Indeed. It was also nice out last night at the diplomat’s ball, was it not?”

“It was,” you state, eyeing her cautiously.

The corners of Genya’s mouth flash up into a barely obscured smile. “You looked lovely that night. Have you captured the hearts of any more suitors?”

You feel your cheeks heat up and look away, eyeing the pattern woven into the tablecloth even more thoroughly than before. Every girl blushes to discuss potential suitors with her friends, but for some reason, discussing the men and women that you may marry feels even more embarrassing in front of Genya. 

Although you love talking over anything and everything with the redhead, there’s something about your marriage prospects that feels almost wrong to bring up in front of her. You want to guard her from it, almost, pretend as if you’ll never have to be married off even though both of you know it’s only a matter of time. You’re a princess, and at some point, you may even be queen. Although your two older brothers will likely fight amongst themselves for that title far before you could ever claim it, you’ll still have plenty of merit as a political pawn.

So, when it becomes clear that Genya is still waiting for an answer, you sigh and give in. “Yes, Genya, I danced with several young men. Charming, all of them.”

Genya gives you a knowing look. “Really? All of them were charming?”

The teasing lilt of her voice brings down the last of your walls in one final tug. “No,” you admit in a rush, “They were terrible, Gen. Like you wouldn’t believe. The first one stepped on my feet five times in one waltz. Another wouldn’t stop preaching the virtues of Kerch beer, as if I’d ever willingly drink anything other than kvas or champagne. And the last one–”

You break off into a shudder. Genya leans forward, evidently delighted. “What did he do to be worse than the others? Did he actively declare war on Ravka?”

“Worse,” you grimace, “He said his sister was prettier than I was and offered to put me in touch with her so she could give me some beauty tips.”

Genya’s jaw drops. “No way. He couldn’t possibly have done such a thing.”

“He did,” you declare, still horrified over the memory even though it happened many hours ago, “I mean, it’s already a terrible faux pas to say someone isn’t pretty, but to say that his sister was better– There’s so many problems there, Genya. So many.”

“So many,” Genya agrees, laughing. “Oh, that’s horrific. You poor thing.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you say crossly, “I have been suffering. And yes, I am quite aware that it sounds foolish to complain of being the belle of a ball, but I was deeply unhappy the whole time.”

Genya smiles again, just barely managing to suppress her laughter. “I’m not making fun of you, darling, you know I could never do that. I just think it’s funny that you’re hung up on some boy who’s that blind. I couldn’t fathom looking at you and not being blown away. You’ve always been pretty to me.”

“Because of your handiwork?” You ask, one brow raised.

Genya shakes her head definitively. “A little bit, maybe, I shan’t deny my talents, but not completely. You’re a lovely, lovely girl. Even when you’re gossiping about political matters that you had better keep to yourself.”

You poke her in the arm. “You can’t chide me for gossiping, Genya, when you’ve been practically dragging the information out of me. You’re a terrible influence.”

She grins broadly. “Don’t I know it? And don’t give me that look, Y/N, I think you need my terrible influence. It makes you well-rounded if you’re both angelic and terrible.”

You laugh quietly to yourself. “Well, I appreciate your efforts. I’m sure the suitors will be glad of it.”

Genya’s smile slips slightly. “Yes, of course. The suitors.”

For some reason, the look on her face makes your stomach twist in an infinity of knots, so you quickly change the subject in an effort to see her smile at least one more time. “So you’ve been at this from the very start, huh? Even when we were children, your end goal was always to improve my character?”

“Always,” Genya snorts, “But maybe I just wanted a friend.”

“That too,” you smile softly. 

You’ve known Genya for a very long time indeed. Talking about the early days now brings back a rush of memories. You were just a little girl when Genya was brought to the palace, and you got along with her instantly. Both of you were about the same age, and although you were quiet around each other at first, it didn’t take long before you were the best of friends.

The Grand Palace of Os Alta wasn’t the friendliest place for a girl to grow up, especially not when you were under the influence of so much political pressure. For once, though, you didn’t spend endless cold winters walking by yourself through the empty halls. Genya was there, and Genya swore that you would never be alone again. From what you’ve seen, she intends to keep that promise for as long as you both may live.

Your parents were always busy with their lives as royals, so you didn’t see much of them. Your older brother Vasily was difficult, less pleasant to be around than not, so you avoided him as much as you could. Nikolai was much better, but he was gone before you knew it, off to the army and university. He was genuinely sorry to leave you, but he left anyway. Genya never left.

You have many, many memories of waking up in the cold darkness of your room, desperately alone and in need of company after a bad dream. You had tried to wake up the queen when you couldn’t sleep once and only once; your knuckles still smart from the memory of that mistake. Instead, on nights like those, you’d sneak into Genya’s room. She’d pull you under the covers so she could braid your hair with neat, skillful fingers, or you would talk quietly until both of you fell asleep.

There had been lovely days when the two of you explored the castle grounds, finding secret rooms or deserted corridors. After you were taught ballroom dance by the prickly dance master your parents employed, you dragged Genya out to one of the many ballrooms so the two of you could waltz around the empty space, twirling until you were dizzy and fell down, laughing, to the ground.

And then you had blinked and both of you were older, almost adults and expected to make your way in the world. Genya is still a constant in your life, but she’s different somehow. She’s more than a friend, but not quite a sister, something more. It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before, even when presented with the most dashing of princes.

It’s a feeling that keeps repeating itself, over and over again when you least expect it. You try to push it from your mind, but then Genya does her hair differently and your heart won’t stop stumbling over itself. There is a lot demanded from you as princess, but when you’re with Genya, every stress is banished from your mind. All you can do is think about her, how to make her happy, how to chase each and every one of her smiles like seeing even one more will make you live forever.

This is wrong. You know who you are and what is expected of you, your future. The king and queen will pick out a noble or royal and you’ll marry them. Odds are, they won’t even be from Ravka, and you’ll disappear from your home forever to end up on strange lands, cursed to forever wander the halls of a palace that will always be unfamiliar to you. You’ll go to sleep with a stranger by your side, and when you close your eyes at last, you’ll dream of a girl with hair like burnished copper who used to know you better than anyone else, who you’ll never see again.

The future is terrifying, so you ignore it as best you can. No marriage proposals have been finalized, so you don’t have to think about them. Why should you, in fact, when Genya is here to tease you about your speeches at upcoming political banquets and endlessly dream up new ways to style your hair so she can stay close to you for as long as possible. You don’t have to think about anything else but her. You don’t need anyone else but her.

The thoughts feel as if they might consume you whole. You’ve started sleeping less and less, because whenever you dream, your mind torments you of visions in which you are married, but not to some nameless prince, but a girl with fiery hair who smiles at you like she loves you because she does. In your dreams, you have a home together just for the two of you, a home where no one bothers you or separates you. It is a paradise, and every time you wake up, you weep for the life you could have had.

It hurts to wake up from the dream and remember that it will never be yours, so you’ve started pushing off sleep in order to avoid that awful recollection that Genya is not yours, not like that, not ever. Dark circles form under your eyes; Genya fixes them every morning, chiding you for not going to bed early enough, but you never tell her that it’s done on purpose so you won’t be haunted by her.

She must guess at it, though, or at least be able to tell that the loss of sleep is your fault, because one evening when you’re about to push off unconsciousness for yet another night, Genya knocks on your door and announces that she’ll be forcing you to take care of yourself since you seem to be allergic to doing it yourself. When you stammer about it not being proper, she just laughs and says that you’ve been doing this for years, so how could you care about it being proper now?

You’ve never been able to argue with her, not really, so you push off the last of your principles and let her lead you back to bed like you’re a child again and still in need of her to make you safe again. You still need her like that, of course, but it’s different now. Everything is different now.

You let out an involuntary sigh of relief when your head hits the pillow. It’s been a long day, of a long string of long days, and the thought of sleep is, admittedly, quite wonderful at a time like this.

“See?” Genya chides from beside you, “You can let yourself rest, Y/N, no one will die because you decided to get a proper night’s sleep.”

“I know,” you mumble.

“Then why haven’t you been allowing yourself to go to bed?” She presses.

You look away. “Just busy, I guess.”

You can feel the weight of Genya’s stare burning into the side of your head even without looking directly at her. She has always been able to see directly through your lies, hasn’t she? “Just busy, huh? With what?”

“Princess things,” you mutter vaguely. “We have to, uh, think of suitors.”

Immediately, Genya goes stiff beside you. “Suitors? Now? Isn’t that a little early?”

You hate yourself for saying it, for ruining this moment, but it was the first thing that popped into your head. “I guess, but you can’t be too sure. It’s an important decision.”

“Most marriages are meant to be happy,” Genya comments, “Will yours be happy?”

There are many answers that you should give her. Yes. Of course. I’ll find a way. However, what comes out is a desperate, broken, “No.”

Genya lets out a quiet breath, reaching out an arm to pull you closer to her. “Why not?”

Your head is tucked against her collarbone, and you can hear the even rhythm of her heartbeat like a drum guiding you to peace. You don’t have it in you to lie, not anymore, so you whisper in the stillness of this shared night:  “Because it won’t be you.”

It is silent. Absolutely silent. The sound of Genya’s heartbeat seems a hundred times louder in the face of all that quiet. Genya has never had a problem saying the perfect thing as long as you’ve known her, but right now, not a single word comes to her lips. You wait for her to tell you that it’s okay, you wait for her to say anything, but nothing happens. You imagine a thousand scenarios– her, hating you forever, breaking that promise to never leave your side because you’ve done that first by being so stupid as to fall in love– each one worse than the one before it, each one capable of tearing your heart into a million awful pieces.

You should leave. It’s your room, but she doesn’t leave. If she wanted you, she would surely have said something by now. You start to pull away, but just when you’ve lifted your head enough that you can see her face, you realize that she doesn’t look angry at all, not in the slightest. In fact, she’s– she’s smiling.

You sit up slightly. Genya follows suit. “You want it to be me?” She asks at last, voice quiet from disbelief.

“I’ve always wanted it to be you,” you confess. “Is that okay?”

You’ve never seen a sunrise as bright as her expression right now. “Y/N, it’s more than okay,” she declares. “It’s fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” You repeat carefully.

“Fantastic,” she confirms. “I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything.”

You have heard stories of people having their best and brightest dreams come true, of explorers discovering uncharted territories, of brave generals winning wars and soldiers coming home to their sweethearts. This one night blows all of them away. Right now, you think you are happier than anyone has ever been in their lives. The only person who could rival your sheer delight is Genya, and so long as she’s here with you, you know that you won’t have to fear unhappiness ever again.

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

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[fanfics4world]

Hello! I love how you write Genya and I thought of something. You could write about Genya x reader x Alina. Some angs with a happy ending. Maybe the reader argues with Alexander and they comfort her. With some alcohol involved.

Not my night

Word count: 1645

Pairings: Genya Safin x Fem!Reader x Alina Starkov

Summary: After a confrontation in a bar and a fight with your brother, you finally return home, with them.

The sound of derisive laughter filled the air as you stood at the bar, drowning your sorrows in a glass of whiskey. 

Aleksander had sent you to "convince" several Grisha to join his cause, you got a few newbies, and the ones that didn't accept... well, they wouldn't be a problem anymore.

You finished your drink in one gulp and placed the glass on the bar with a thud, signaling the barmaid to give you another drink. "Another one? Don't you think it's time for you to go home dear" you looked at the waitress without saying anything, who simply shrugged and refilled your glass.

You were tired, tired of being your brother's errand dog, of doing his dirty work. "Soon everything will change" he said, "we will regain our power" he repeated. But everything remained the same, to the point that you had lost all faith in his plan, and all that was left was guilt.

The cheerful conversation around you had become a distant murmur as you became lost in your own thoughts, but you were abruptly pulled out of your reverie when a gruff voice cut through the air.

"Did you guys see that? Looks like The Darkling has brought his dog back to us. All that's missing is the sun summoner to complete his circus of freaks" sneered one of the men at the nearby table, pointing disdainfully at you.

You clenched your fists in fury, feeling the heat of anger burn in your chest. You were used to the taunts, the looks of fear and disgust, but you weren't going to let anyone make fun of Alina, especially not in her absence. You rose from your seat with determination, facing the group of men with a defiant look in your eyes.

"Do you have a problem?" one of the men asked, rising from his chair with a cocky grin on his face.

"I think I do" you replied, your voice cold as ice. "And I'm willing to solve it here and now"

"Well, well. Don't you need your brother to defend you anymore? Why don't you go back to your stupid palace, daughter of the shadow"

That was the straw that capped it all, the atmosphere in the bar charged with tension as your fist sliced the air with a swift and decisive movement. The blow carried with it all the pent-up frustration and resentment, manifesting itself in an accurate arc aimed at the man who mocked you and Alina. The fist connected with a solid impact, causing the man to recoil in surprise, his expression turning from arrogance to disbelief in an instant.

The room erupted in chaos as onlookers reacted to the sudden violence. you braced yourself for the counterattack, anticipating the man's angry response. However, before you could react, another individual stepped in, throwing a punch aimed at you from the side.

You felt the impact hit your side, a burst of pain that sent you back a few steps. However, adrenaline and determination kept you on your feet, driving you to confront your aggressors with renewed ferocity. With a snarl of rage, you counterattacked, throwing quick, precise blows towards your opponents while fending off incoming attacks.

The fight developed into a frenzy of movement and action, with you at the center of the fray. Fists flew in all directions, meeting their target with dull impacts that echoed through the air.

The sound of blows mingled with the screams of fury and grunts of pain, creating a discordant symphony of chaos and violence. You moved with agility and dexterity, dodging incoming attacks while throwing your own blows with deadly precision. Every move was calculated, every blow a step towards the victory you so craved, you didn't need your magic.

Finally, after a series of swift and brutal exchanges, the fight came to an end, leaving you gasping and covered in blood in the center of the bar. You approached the man who started it all with a determined stride, his gaze reflecting terror, which only satisfied you more.

"I'll tell you only once, speak ill of Alina again and I'll invoke the cut by splitting you in two, got it?", the man nodded frantically, which made you smile. In one swift motion, you grabbed his head and smashed it against the wall, knocking him unconscious.

Before you could do anything else, the doors of the bar opened wide, revealing a group of Grisha, followers of your brother.

Letting out a sigh, you stood up and walked out of the bar, finding your brother's carriage parked outside. You were definitely screwed.

"How dare you! Do you know the trouble you could get me into, are you incapable of behaving yourself just once or what?" Aleksander shouted, you avoided his gaze, focusing on the scenery as you made your way back to the Little Palace.

"They brought this on themselves" you said, still looking out the window, Aleksander growled, before you could react one of his shadows held your face, forcing you to look at him. "I'll tell you only once, make a fuss like today again and I'll-"

"What are you going to do, lock me up like Mom? If you get me out of the way you'll be left without your errand dog, who'll do the dirty work? Because it looks like you're afraid to get your hands dirty now-"

The sound of the slap echoed through the carriage, filling the space with a dull pop that cut through the silence like a bolt of lightning. 

Your cheek burned with the sharp pain of the slap, your brother's gaze burned with a mixture of frustration and contempt. "Don't ever speak to me like that again" he said, the carriage stopped, you had arrived.

You quickly got up and got out of the carriage, heading for the entrance, ignoring your brother's shouts, calling you angrily. When you entered, you quickly wanted to get to your room, but were stopped by your brother's strong grip. "Y/N, I swear that if-"

"No! I've had enough of all this! You may like to play the great General Kirigan, but I'm tired of following your orders and seeing nothing change!"

"And what was your plan sister? To let them exterminate us? To hunt us down until we're finished? Don't you see? With the sun summoner we will achieve our goal" you broke free from his grip, facing him full of anger.

"I swear that if you do anything to her, I will kill you Aleksander" you spat, he smiled, "Don't play the saintly little sister, your hands are as stained with blood as mine, but there is something you don't have and I do... The power to destroy you".

Before you could react, you were pushed against the wall, falling to the floor with a thud. Aleksander knelt down in front of you. "Continue to defy me and you won't like how this ends for you"

"Y/N?" you both turned your heads to see Genya and Alina in the doorway. Aleksander stood up, ignoring their presence he turned his attention to you. "You have been warned" and with that, he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

"God... I thought it would never end..." you stood up awkwardly, instantly feeling a pair of arms wrap around you. You looked up to see Genya's worried face, before you could say anything, Alina's hands reached for your face, examining it.

"Did he do this to you?" she asked firmly, you couldn't help but raise a small smile at her protective side. "No... well, he slapped me, but the rest were drunks in a bar" you replied.

"Am I wrong if I say you started the fight?" said Genya, which made you roll your eyes. "I may have thrown the first punch, but I swear on Ravka they started it" you replied, Alina shook her head.

As soon as Genya closed the door, you collapsed on the bed, you were exhausted, both mentally and physically. You felt the mattress sink in on both sides, you opened your eyes to see Alina and Genya watching you worriedly.

"I'm fine, I swear, it's just been a horrible night, I'm sick of following his damn orders! And when I mentioned you Alina... I don't know, I got mad, I've seen what my brother has done to so many Grisha, and the mere thought of him doing anything to you made me-"

Your rambling was interrupted by Alina's lips on yours, when you parted, Alina's hands caressed your face tenderly. "Hey, you don't have anything to worry about okay? I'm fine, I know nothing will happen to me as long as I'm with you two" Alina looked at Genya, who smiled.

You couldn't help but smile, if someone had told you that after what happened in the shadow you would find love and be happy, you would surely have punched them. But here you were, sharing your heart with the two Grishas.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve you two" you sighed. "Well, being tremendously sexy, I assure you and also being the most amazing Grisha I've ever met" Alina gave Genya a pinch, which made you laugh. "One of the most amazing" she corrected, before depositing a tender kiss on your lips.

"Because you, Y/N Kirigan, deserve the best" Alina said. "I certainly got it" you replied watching them.

Finally all the whirlwind of emotions around you calmed down, you were home, together with Alina and Genya, you couldn't wish for anything else. The blanket of the night hovered over you, warning you that it was time to end that day, lying on the bed under the covers, Genya and Alina's arms around you. You didn't know what would happen in the future, but as long as you stayed together, nothing else mattered.

A.N: Hello, the truth is that I had never written anything like this, but as angst is my daily food, I have enjoyed it very much and soon I will upload some Alina x reader. As always, thanks for the request and if you have more ideas don't hesitate to write.

[criminalamnesia]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings.

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread, no gendered pronouns used (that I know of), grisha!heartrender!reader

author’s note: dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift inspired this! also listen I love zoya and nikolai but nikolai is just sooooooo ksjfjsjs I wanted to write a reader insert for him.

—

What you had with your captain was something no one understood– not even the two of you.

Sturmhond– or Nikolai, as you knew him in secret– was your friend. Your captain. But he was also something more.

He was a rogue ship, and you were a lighthouse guiding him home. He was a dangerous sea, threatening to drown you if you tested your luck– and oh, how you were so close to seeing what would happen if you did.

You shouldn’t even know his true identity. But, as fate would have it, he needed a heartrender with a specific set of skills that you just happened to have, and you needed an escape.

You were his tailor– disguising his appearance and turning him into the infamous Sturmhond. That was the only reason you were allowed to see him without his mask– you were the one to put it back together.

“You’re not surprised?” He had asked you the first night your services had been requested.

The ginger hair of Sturmhond had faded. The crooked nose had straightened, but the same smug grin was still present.

“No,” you had said. “I know that heartbeat. I knew it was you a mile from your ship.”

That took him aback. How did you know his heartbeat?

You had laughed, your eyes twinkling with something he found mesmerizing. He didn’t know you– he was sure of it. He wouldn’t forget a face like yours.

One of your hands was on his shoulder, holding him still. The other roamed his face, fingers dancing across his skin as you worked.

“You’re staring,” you stated, your fingers moving to his messy blond hair. “Trying to figure out how I know you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, eyes watching your face intently. “Were you at the Little Palace?”

You nodded. “I was.” The blond of his hair started to turn red. “But I spent most of my time in the Grand Palace.” You paused, your hand leaving his shoulder to move to his chin, tilting his head to the side. You could hear his heart beat a tad bit faster.

“The Darkling gave me to your mother, as he did with Genya. I was her apprentice. She taught me how to tailor.” You told him.

“I didn’t suffer the same fate she did, if that’s what you’re wondering. Your father had eyes for her, not me.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice. Nikolai flinched.

“You were rarely home– but I met you once, when we were both still small. That’s why I know your heartbeat. The only one of the Royal Family to have a good heart– not a sour one. It stuck with me, I guess you could say.”

“I don’t remember you,” he admitted, and you gave a small laugh. His blond hair was almost completely red now.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re not the only one being tailored, Captain. The First Army can’t take me back if they don’t recognize me, now can they?”

“Are you listening?”

Nikolai’s voice broke you from your thoughts. He was sitting on the bed in his quarters on the ship. You stood between his knees, your hands on his face as you changed him back into Sturmhond.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You weren’t. This routine was something you could do in your sleep, and truthfully, you found your mind drifting off more and more whenever Nikolai required your assistance. It’s not that you found his company dull– quite the opposite, actually. But you didn’t want him to know that.

“No you weren’t,” he gave a small chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab one of yours. He pulled it from his face as he intertwined your fingers.

“Nikolai,” you hissed, pulling your hand from his grasp. “Do you want me to mess up? I was in the middle of reforming your nose.”

He sighed, his hand falling back to his lap as you raised yours once more. You avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw in them.

Between the two of you, he was the more open with his feelings. For the past few weeks, he had continuously tried to corner you and get you to talk about whatever the two of you were. To try and figure things out. You had successfully avoided him thus far, but you knew you were dancing on thin ice.

It was only a matter of time before he recruited one of the twins to subdue you while he forced you to listen. You wouldn’t put it past him, and you knew for a fact Tolya would help him. Curse that hopeless romantic.

“You’re insufferable. And exhausting,” he told you as you grasped his chin gently between your fingers, turning his face this way and that to examine your handiwork.

“I know. You tell me quite often,” you remarked, nodding to yourself as you moved to focus your sights on his hair.

He sighed. Silence engulfed the two of you. It was almost smothering, full of unsaid words and the tension between the two of you. You were suddenly aware of how close you were to him– his knees caging you in as you stood between his spread legs. His face in your hands, his hands now on your waist.

“We keep dancing around this,” he said. You didn’t reply, choosing to focus more intently on the roots of his hair. “The whole crew thinks we’re sleeping together.”

That caught you off guard. You gave a snort, rolling your eyes. “Of course they do. You call me to your quarters in the night, every week. You always stare at me, especially when you think I’m not looking. And you’re handsy– you’ve always got a hand on my back or my shoulder or something.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Well, you’re one to talk. Every time you laugh at something I’ve said, you grab onto my arm and go ‘oh Sturmhond!’. And don’t act like you don’t stare, too.”

“I do not say ‘oh Sturmhond’,” you said, looking down at him. He grinned that same crooked smile.

“I know you’re thinking it. Probably thinking some other things, too. Like how you’d like to–”

“Shut up, or I’m going to give you a black eye.” You hissed, pulling his hair harder than you should’ve.

He laughed. “You wouldn’t. You like my face too much.”

“Im sick of it, actually,” you remarked. “I see it everyday.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.” He replied.

“You say that as if you’d let me leave. I’m the only tailor you’ve got.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the reason I wouldn’t let you leave, and we both know it.”

You dropped your hands as the last of his blond turned red. Your job here was done. There was nothing stopping you from bidding him goodnight and excusing yourself to your own cot. You knew he would drop it and let you go without another word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You didn’t want to say anything.

“So now you’re keeping me prisoner?” You said, suddenly all too aware of his hands squeezing your waist.

“Maybe I am. At least until you admit you like me,” he said, and you scoffed.

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here–” you began, but he cut you off.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He moved to stand. You tried to step back, but his hands on you kept you rooted to the spot. You looked up at him, heat rising to your cheeks. Your chests were touching now, and there were only inches between your lips and his.

“When are we going to stop playing this game?” He whispered, one of his hands moving from your waist to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You like it too much to stop.” You retorted.

“I’d like honesty more,” he said, and you shook your head. “As much fun as playing cat and mouse is with you, I’m growing tired of chasing. And we both know you’re tired of running.”

His hands were on your hips as he swung you around the deck, a laugh on his lips as you clung to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile as he dipped you, your eyes meeting his. There were unspoken promises in his gaze– too many feelings, and you had to look away.

Others danced around you two as a few of the crew played some song you’d never heard on makeshift instruments. Laughter and conversation made it hard to think straight. Spirits were high– you’d all just succeeded in breaking through a Fjerdan blockade– and that called for a celebration.

“They’re all going to think we’re together,” you had told Nikolai as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. He had laughed, leaning in close to whisper “let them” in your ear.

He had kissed you for the first time that night, after the party had subsided and everyone was asleep but the two of you. You had been talking quietly, watching the stars and listening to the waves, and he had kissed you and you had melted.

“Nikolai..” you sighed, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t care,” he told you, and his heartbeat was as steady as it had ever been.

“I do,” you told him, meeting his gaze. “You can’t play pirate forever. What happens when you go back to Ravka, back to your family? You can’t marry me. I’m nobody– not a princess, not a diplomat. I’m an escaped servant who knows too much and would be imprisoned or executed for escaping.”

“Privateer,” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. “And I’m the second son– a bastard second son. I’m already a disgrace in their eyes,” one of his hands moved to the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. “I can’t disappoint them any more than I have.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think of you now, they still won’t let me anywhere near you.” You replied, and he shook his head.

“Why are we even talking about this?” He asked. “We’re not in Ravka. We’re in the middle of the ocean, and no one cares what we do.”

He was right. You were far from Ravka and his family and your pasts. You were someone new, and he was, too. You weren’t an escaped servant– you were Sturmhond’s first mate. You were his most trusted friend– besides the twins– and you were the one he wanted.

And you wanted him, too.

“I don’t care about details,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t care about families or consequences or rumors. I care about you, about that little smile you always get before you win at cards, about how you let me drag you onto the dance floor while the crew stares, and how you put up with me more than you should.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned for words.

“I would do anything,” he began, his face slowly inching towards yours. “To dance with you again. To kiss you again. To not hide behind stolen glances and little jabs at each other.”

“Nikolai,” you murmured, your eyes flitting down to his lips.

“Yes?” He asked as your eyes found his once more.

“Just shut up.” You said, and you closed the gap between the two of you, your lips meeting his.

Maybe nothing he said would be true in the morning. Maybe he would realize this was all a big mistake, but you didn’t care.

He was right. You were tired of running, and you were so glad he was tired of chasing.

And as you kissed, that heartbeat that you’d remembered after all these years– that you’d always remember– soared.

And you knew he wasn’t lying.

[bi-bard]

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

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

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 3,303 words

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

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

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

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

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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

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

I had a lot of night left to waste.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I found myself grinning at the thought of Kaz.

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

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

"Excuse me-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Everyone out!" the original woman yelled.

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

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

"Unbelievable," I muttered.

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

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

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

"Excuse me?"

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

"And that includes watching me bathe?"

"What if you were to drown?"

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

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

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

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

"What are you doing," I asked.

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

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

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

"Wasn't joking."

She reached up and dragged her thumb along my cheekbone.

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

"What did you do?" I snapped.

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

I walked over and glanced at my reflection.

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

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

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

"Healer?"

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

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

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

I just nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn't respond to her question.

Her smirk just grew.

Yes. It was me being sentimental.

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

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

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

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

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

I took a deep breath before listening to her.

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

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

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

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

"They suit you well," she replied.

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

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

I turned to her.

"You should be a little more grateful."

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

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

"Was that necessary?"

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

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

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

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

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

Inej.

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

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

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

Genya didn't speak on her statement more.

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

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

"A very comfortable cage," Genya shrugged.

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How was your rest?"

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

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

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

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

"What," I asked.

"I understand that these are not ideal circumstances-"

"You kidnapped me-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I rolled my eyes.

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

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

"Thank you-"

"Save it."

We walked to the Grand Palace in silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good morning," the queen added awkwardly.

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

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

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

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

I felt his eyes turn to me again.

"Starting now."

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

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

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

It glimmered as the light tore it down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I mimicked his bow.

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

"Welcome home, (Y/n)."

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

I was left with the guards and the Grisha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I was okay with that.

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

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Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[ineffablelvrs]

btw now that the second season of the show comes out in less than a week, i want to remind yall that it does not matter that ben barnes plays him, it does not matter that he's "hot so it's okay", the darkling is a fucking creep, a groomer and a manipulator and yall just like him bc he's a powerful, conventionally attarctive man. he's NOT "morally gray". grishaverse characters who ARE actually morally gray are for example kaz, nikolai and zoya. darkling is straight up a villain, an unredeemable one to add to that. to sum up, fuck darkling and his apologists :)

[delfiore]

—THE GHOST YOU LEFT BEHIND.

pairing: zoya nazyalensky x fem!heartrender!reader

synopsis: a painful past between you and zoya comes to light when you are sent on an intel mission on behalf of the king.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: men being gross, a mild spoiler for the SoC book (?) idk i found the info on the wiki

a/n: hahAA 4k. shadow and bone has consumed my life and so has sujaya dasgupta ok thank you goodnight.

You looked down at the map strewn in front of you, a small smile creeping its way onto your lips. You didn’t look up, but you could imagine the fury on Zoya’s face.

“If I may, moi tsar—“

“I have made my decision, General,” Nikolai interjected, “you are my best fighter, and well, Y/N can be quite persuasive. I trust that you two would make an excellent team.”

For the glory of Ravka.

Finally, your eyes found her across the table. Her jaw was tight and her eyes hard as she looked back at you. “We depart at dawn,” she said, regal and in the manner of a good soldier, and left the room.

“Something humorous, sister?”

You shook your head, but the grin remained. “Now I think you’re just doing it for the hell of it.”

“I need all the information I can gather about jurda parem,” your half-brother reasoned, “and my advisor and general to not be at each other’s throats every time they enter the same room.”

“And your solution is to send them away alone with each other?” You scoffed.

“Precisely.” Nikolai nodded, with the same shit-eating grin. “I expect you back in a fortnight’s time with useful intel.”

By the time the sun was above you the next day, you and Zoya had been on horseback for hours outside Os Alta. Unsurprisingly, in complete silence.

You breathed in deeply. “Well, isn’t this lovely?”

“No.”

“A thrilling adventure back to my motherland,” you continued much to Zoya’s dismay, “almost like that time when we went to seek out the Crows. Just thinking about those Shu dumplings at the market makes my mouth water.”

Her silence was poisonous, and you felt the poison seep into your bones. The horses huffed as they trotted leisurely side-by-side on the dirt path.

“You know, we are going to be together for the next fortnight. Are you really going to do this without saying a word?”

“I am,” she said adamantly, “unless you’d like a punch to the jaw for breakfast, I suggest you shut it.”

“Speaking of breakfast, I am famished.” You looked down at your stomach delicately. “Perhaps we should stop. There should be a tavern in a couple of miles.”

To your surprise, Zoya let you stop at the tavern for some food, but not before she gave you a look that made you reconsider everything you’ve ever said around her. You were in the middle of devouring bacon and eggs, when you heard a scoff coming from her on the opposite end of the table.

“You eat like an animal,” she said, grimacing.

“Sorry that my table etiquette isn’t to your liking. I’ve learned to appreciate food having lived at sea where sustenance is never certain.”

“Why’d you pick it then? You were royalty.”

You huffed. “Not exactly. My status at court depended entirely on how my father, the King, felt about his illegitimate child that day. And that, in it itself, was fragile. But you knew that.”

Zoya shifted uncomfortably. You knew you had touched on a sore subject, but it was the most you had exchanged with her since returning home with Nikolai. All the spats and arguments left you little room to fill her in on all your adventures as you’d hoped. You wrote countless letters addresses to her, but you never received a response, so you’d only assumed that your words on paper had been reduced to ash by now.

“I’ll have you know I got the money for it. You just got to tell me where.”

“I’ll sell it to ya when I make sure I’ve got more coming in from Koba. The Crown’s maximizing security at the borders so it might take a while.”

“Are you listening?” You looked up at her, whispering quietly, so as not to alarm the men at the next table.

She nodded wordlessly.

“Thought the Fold being gone would make it easier, instead it’s just another useless king waving his magic wand around like a little prick.”

“Name the man. I’ll have my men do business with him.”

There was a stiff silence. Her hand fiddled with the napkin anxiously as she waited for the response.

A heavy fist slammed down on the table next to your plate, and the rugged men had surrounded your table.

“Got a couple of eavesdroppers, haven’t we?” One of the sneered.

“Oy, give us a bit of fun and maybe we’ll let you off,” another put his foot on the chair in which Zoya sat, and stroked her face greedily. “I’ll take this one.”

You could see the desperation in her eyes, begging you not to fight back. So, you held your tongue. You knew you couldn’t reveal the status of your being here. It was the reason why you and her dressed in plain clothes, and not your kefta.

“We’re just passersby, boys. Not looking for any trouble,” Zoya said sweetly, but you could tell that she was fuming too.

“C’mon, sweetling. No harm in a little fun, eh?”

You hated the way that prick was hovering over Zoya, it made you see red. In a quick motion, you whipped your head back against one of them, effectively breaking his nose with a loud crunch. With the other that stood beside you gawking, you pulled on his heart, until you could feel it squeezing in your hand, and he fell to the flooring, arresting.

The tavern once animated quickly fell silent, and the only sound left was the brawl that you found yourself in. Needless to say, a bunch of otkazat’sya were no match for two Grisha. But it was only you using your powers. Zoya had knocked down two of the men with her bare hands.

You found the informant amidst the brawl, now battered with blood on his face, and held him by the collar. “Tell me who the seller is and where I can find him.”

When the man refused to answer, you gritted your teeth, and pulled the air from his lungs.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll tell you!” He gasped. “Yuri Enkhbaatar, in Koba. Please, let me go.”

You nodded, satisfied, and punched him in the face, rendering him unconscious.

“Grisha scum!” One of them shouted as they all ran out of the tavern with their tails between their legs.

You took a moment to catch your breath. When you looked down at your hands, they were shaking and your right was bloody at the knuckles. The silver ring on your middle finger, fortunately, was still intact.

“It’s fine,” you said to Zoya, seeing her look at your wound with apprehension.

The sound of the horses neighing alarmed you. "No," you whispered and set off to chase the men, only to see them galloping away with one of your horses. You quickly ran after them, but they had rounded the corner and descended the hill, away from your immediate eyesight.

You let out an angry yell, just as Zoya caught up to you.

"Well done," she said sarcastically, a grin on her face.

"Save it," you grumbled under your breath, and keep walking in the direction you were supposed to go.

You heard Zoya's horse trot behind you, and you turned around in an attempt to counter whatever teasing comment she was going to throw at you. "Hop on," she said.

It took you a second to realize what she meant, frankly because you didn't think she'd be that hospitable. It might have been a different story if it was her horse that had been taken. You never liked being around an angry Zoya; a simmering Zoya was enough of a headache.

"You do realize that this means I'm going to be very close to you for the rest of our journey?"

"I'd rather that than have to wait for you every few paces," Zoya said, extending a hand to you. "Go on, we don't have all day. And if you keep babbling, you will walk.”

You took a deep breath before pulling yourself upwards; now you were very close to her. You thought the years of being apart would extinguish that bubbling feeling you get whenever you were around her, but here you were, trying your best to keep calm, as your legs wrapped around her. Thank the Saints she wasn’t a Heartrender.

“I’d say this is quite nice—“

“No.”

You sighed. It was going to be a very long ride to Koba.

On the fifth night, you arrived at the city. The sun had long disappeared behind the mountains, and the city lights could be seen from miles away.

“We should probably find our accommodation before doing anything,” Zoya said, “we might be here for a bit.”

You found a cheap inn in a small alley near the market. If you weren’t on a mission for the king, you’d almost see it as a much-needed vacation. You knew Zoya was exhausted by the way her eyes were barely open she waited for the innkeeper to assign you your room. She grabbed the keys as soon as it left the woman’s hand and went upstairs.

“All the Saints above in good Heaven,” you heard her exclaim as you peered inside.

“What?” You said. There was one single bed in the middle of an otherwise quite spacious room.

“It’s alright. You catch some sleep.” You said, sensing her annoyance. “I’ll go into the night market—“

She didn’t let you finish your sentence before throwing her day-bag somewhere on the floor and collapsing onto the bed, her limbs sprawled out across the entire width.

“—For a bit,” you said quietly, and closed the door behind you in the hallway, a small grin on your face at the unusual display of fatigue.

When you returned about an hour later, she was already in a deep sleep, but still in her riding clothes. Careful so as not to wake her, you pulled the cover from underneath her, earning an annoyed murmur from the girl, and throwing it over her body.

The commotion from the market had faded out the moment you stepped into your shared room. The quietness, not silence, that enshrouded the room, became loud. Your mind became loud as you thought about the past. Your past with Zoya.

You began to hear her voice, her young laughter as she chased you down the hall at the Little Palace, effectively putting many servants in charge of your wellbeing in distress. You despised your so-called family, the only one you liked was Nikolai, but things got better because you had your best friend, Zoya, the new Squaller that came from Novokribirsk.

You found her crying alone one day in a hidden part of the courtyard, when she was supposed to be training with Botkin. She had come only a few days before, and she was missing home.

“I’ll be your friend,” you remember saying to her, “that way you’re not alone anymore.” The pair of you were nine.

You sat by the side of the bed, resting your head against it, watching her sleep. She had every right to hate you, you knew that, but it hurt a lot. It hurt because you had promised yourselves to each other in the form of two silver rings. You didn’t understand the magnitude of that promise then, but you did now; Zoya Nazyalensky was your first love.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, but you knew she couldn’t hear. Quickly, you placed your hands above your chest to slow your racing heart, and keep the tears at bay. Once calmed, you settled back against the side of the bed, listening to the other steady heartbeat in the room as you succumbed to sleep.

Ten years old. You pushed down on the door handle quietly, being careful not to wake the other girls in the room. It was way past your bedtime, and you knew you would have to sneak back into your own room before the sun rises. In the dark, you made your way to where you knew was Zoya’s bunk. She was fast asleep, facing away from you.

“Zoyaaaa,” you shook her softly. The raven-haired girl turned around, and rubbed her eyes.

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered.

Wordlessly, she moved over, albeit barely as her bed was tiny, and you happily got under the cover with when as she pulled you closer.

“What are you ever going to do without me?” Zoya whispered back.

In the pale moonlight, your best friend looked like the entire universe. “I’d just never sleep.”

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up!”

You jolted awake, feeling the weight of reality crash down against your heavy eyelids.

Zoya was hovering above you, furrowing her eyebrows at the snorting noise you made when you woke up.

“Look,” she said, pointing out the window.

You rubbed your eyes and squinted subconsciously at the bright light that penetrated the room. Deep into the alley, a space opened up to what appeared to be a tea shop, and there sat two of the men you encountered at the tavern in Ravka.

“Shit,” you grumbled.

Next to them was another man, the front half of his head was shaved, the back of it skirted down his back in a long braid. He had Shu features, Enkhbaatar.

“There’s our man,” Zoya said.

You lunged towards the door when she pulled in your sleeve. “What are you going to do?”

“Stopping those bastards from importing the drug into our country.”

“By doing what? Asking them nicely?” Zoya hissed. “Y/N, we’ve already directed enough attention to ourselves the other day. We’re not in Ravka anymore, we don’t have the same kind of protection here. If they find out what we are—“

“They kill us, I know.”

She nodded firmly. “So, I have a plan.”

Zoya was good at many things, a good Squaller, a loyal soldier, a resolute decision-maker. It led you to believe that her plan might just work, it checked out in your head. You got the name, Bo Yul-Bayur. But then, you found yourself chasing after Yuri Enkhbaatar down many winding alleys, until you stopped at what seemed to be a brothel and his goons looked like they were about to swallow you alive. Turns out the men that you had beaten up at the tavern alarmed him of two Grisha nobles looking for jurda parem.

“Kill them!” He shouted to them in Shu.

“We just want to talk, Yuri!” You held your hands up in defense.

“I don’t talk to Ravkans, most of all Grisha!”

“But you’re not human, are you? You’re Grisha too.” You laughed, albeit carefully. “You’re a Fabrikator, an Alkemi.”

The look on his face shifted, as he scanned his men.

“Let us go, and you will have protection in Ravka from the King himself until we arrest Bo and bring him to justice,” Zoya prodded.

“I don’t need protection from your boy king,” Yuri growled. “Tell me, will your Saints be there to watch over you in the afterlife?”

The men charged, and all you knew was to defend Zoya from their blades. But there were too many of them. You were getting overwhelmed by the others as you try to subdue one. Men piled on top of one other trying to fight you, and there was a moment when you thought you wouldn’t get out.

It would be poetic, you thought, dying with your best friend, and your first love. Word would reach your brother of your failure, and he would do with it as he willed, but you would be here with Zoya, and you would be alone together.

Through the chaos, you spotted Yuri fleeing the scene. He really meant to kill you. You looked over to Zoya, seeing her struggling to fight three men at once. One of them, in her blind spot, with a gleaming sword in hand sliced her arm and she reacted with a painful yelp.

“Zoya!” You yelled. The added strength of seeing her in pain allowed you to stop two of the men’s hearts at once, something you’ve never done before, as they instantly dropped like flies to your feet.

You sensed an opening in the disorientation, and quickly grabbed Zoya to make a run for it. You hid in another small alley under ropes of aired out laundry for added concealment, as you attempted to catch your breath.

Zoya’s sleeve, once royal blue, was now stained with a dark red where the open wound was. It looked deep, and she was trying her best not to let the blood mark your whereabouts on the ground. She clutched it poorly in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but her face turned pale as she looked closer to fainting.

Quickly, you tore a piece at the end of your garment off to wrap it around her arm. “Keep pressure,” you said, but she turned away and refused to meet your eyes.

“I don’t need your pity, Y/L/N.”

“Pity?” You scoffed incredulously. “Zoya, you’re bleeding out!”

“Don’t pretend like you care about me now!” You knew it was her pride talking. Years of being the perfect soldier—alone—has hardened her, and having her plans fail so spectacularly. “I’ve survived worse. I took a bullet to the leg, an arrow to the shoulder. This is nothing.”

“Zoya, please let me just—“

“And you weren’t there!” You saw your own reflection in her glossy eyes, like a crosshair, like a wanted poster. You saw yourself in her disappointment.

“I left because—“ your voice was breaking, “I left because I couldn’t stand it anymore. My . . . family, never saw me as anything more than a bastard child! I felt like I didn’t have a family. I was on my own.”

Zoya laughed bitterly, sniffling her tears. From the wall she was slumping against, she took a step towards you, her eyes burned with contempt. “I was your family, Y/N, and you left without even saying goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes were wet. You balled your fists, your right hand fiddling with your ring. “I loved you.”

“There was a time where I would have said it back to you,” she said, her voice wavering, “but that time is long gone.”

With that, she left, no doubt to find her way back to the inn, but you didn’t bother trying to show your face for at least until that evening.

Nikolai heartily welcomed your return. He had worried for your safety when word got back about the tussle at the tavern.

"Well done, Y/N. I never doubted your abilities."

"Truly, it was Zoya that came up with the plan to catch Yul-Bayur," your voice trailed off, and you shrugged.

Sensing your discomfort, your brother came to your side by the table. "You talked, then?"

"If by 'talk' you mean we screamed in each other's faces, then yes," you sighed, your last verbal interaction fresh on your mind. “The only times I regret leaving with you are when I think about her.”

Your brother understood not to make his thoughts known, but to be your comfort when he pulled you into his chest.

The way Zoya handles her emotional baggage was never something she was proud of. Her confrontation with you in Shu Han had dug up a lot of things she wished she had forgotten about. She had promised herself to never let anyone in as much as she did you, and it scared her how easily still you got under her skin, even now.

So she figured the best way to deal with you was to pretend you never existed at all. The only times she would see you were at dinner and training anyway, but she never bat you an eye. She wanted you to know what it felt like to be left behind.

“Lady Y/N asked about you,” Genya told her, “asked how your arm is doing.”

“‘S fine.” Zoya answered courtly.

In the little time Genya Safin had the privilege of knowing Zoya, she knew the girl could be difficult to talk to. However, it never deterred her from trying.

“Why do you deprive yourself so? You know you still care about her.”

“It’s none of your business, Safin.”

“It is. It’s everyone’s business, Zoya, when you both have been lathering those longing, melancholic looks at each other all over our faces! You don’t think the other notices when you look at each other, but Saints it is so blatant that it makes me nauseous.”

Zoya didn’t reply, but opted to observe some younger Grisha mucking about during their breaks from training.

“And what about those letters? Why’d you keep them then? For decoration?”

“I—I don’t know.” She must have read every single one of your letters at least ten times, each time hanging onto every word. She would find herself smiling as some of the stories you tell her, but quickly catch herself slipping. There would be three to four letters every few months, then the numbers dwindled until she had to get used to not receiving any at all. Five months later, you returned.

“General,” a guard made himself known to the women. “His Majesty requests your presence in the council chamber.”

To her utmost dismay, you were there too, along with Tolya and Tamar. She let herself settle by the table, ignoring the burning gaze you were directing at her.

“You called for me, moi tsar?”

“Yes, I was hoping to get your input on how we shall proceed with Yuri Enkhbaatar, and subsequently Bo Yul-Bayar.” The King leaned on the edge of the table. “You were face-to-face with Enkhbaatar, what do you think?”

She let herself glance over at you for a split second, seeing you already looking at back at her with a crestfallen look. Straightening back up at the King, she answered, “We may need some time before we are able to get to Yul-Bayar. With him hiding out in Kerch, the only thing we may do is issue a bounty for him. Might I suggest our . . . friends in Ketterdam?”

By the time the meeting was over, Zoya used her best effort to leave the room as quick as possible, but, as if you had known she was going to, you caught her in the hallway.

“Zoya,” you said. There was a hesitant pause. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk,” she spoke calmly, almost too much so. You winced at her aloofness.

“Please, I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and that I thought about you every day when I was gone. You must believe me.” You clung onto her sleeve with a desperate look. Zoya almost faltered at the glossiness that been to form in your eyes, you looked so defeated.

“I still think about you,” you confessed quietly, “you are all I think about.”

Your confession hung in the air like a puff of smoke, one that she wished she could condensed into a ball and throw away. There were other things that should be said after, but if she said them, her beating heart was going to jump out of her mouth into her hands for you see. There was a time when she wouldn’t have been afraid to let you see. Parts of her wanted to return to it.

“Th-That’s it,” you mumbled quietly, but something shifted in your eyes. You avoided her eyes and visibly deflated.

Zoya watched you floated down the hallway like a ghost, regretting choosing silence.

That night you couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning in bed, you let your last conversation with Zoya played out in your head. You didn’t know what she was thinking, you used to be able to read her like a book. There were very little expressions on her face to indicate any emotion, and yet her heart was pounding in your ears like a scared prey.

One can wear as many faces as one needs, but the heart will always want what it wants.

You kicked off your covers, and quietly opened the main doors to your room. There was not a single sound in the hallway, the Castle had gone to sleep long before that. You had learned where everything was now located in your absence, and you stopped in front of a room right by the stairs leading down to the main atrium.

She opened the door, and didn’t bother to hiding the surprise on her face. “Y/N,” she called your name.

You gulped, and let yourself run your eyes across her features. Her face was bare, free of cosmetics, her hair was dark as the night and cascaded freely down her shoulders.

“I can’t sleep,” you said, smiling sadly.

There it was. You saw the walls cracking, and finally tumbling down. Her lips quivered as she stifled a small sob. She had been pretending so hard, and it all cane tumbling down.

Wordlessly, she pulled you into her room, her hands finding their ways to the nape of your neck. You let her cry against your forehead, as your fingers found the wound on her arm that has now closed.

“I’m so tired of pretending.” Zoya said.

“Then stop,” you shook your head lightly. “I’m never leaving again.”

You let her push you back towards her bed where you sat by the edge, as she slowly guided you onto your back, raven curtains divided her face from everything else. You let your hands roam free, all night, for a thousand nights.

[barbarianbookhoe]

I just finished King of Scars and bitches😭

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

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

[witchthewriter]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬! 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

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

Warnings: spoilers for season 2, may allude to the trauma that Genya has suffered, and mentions of scars. Not Yandere Genya but mentions of possessiveness.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  

・After David, Genya thought she’d never be able to love again

・In all honesty, she still had doubts that she could be loved 

・Living with an eye patch, covered in scars; and that was only the physical part of her. Genya believed she was unlovable, or rather, too difficult to love. That she had too much baggage, too much that weighed her down. 

・But you couldn’t disagree more 

・It took time and a lot of effort. But you broke down Genya’s walls and she allowed you to become a part of her life

・You were a hidden Grisha, done so by your family who didn’t want you to be taken away from them

・And because the Fold had been destroyed, your family was able to move to Ravka without trouble

・You had been reunited with siblings, who had been separated from you while young 

・They too were Grisha. Taken by the testers when they were barely thirteen

・The Darkling may have had a point, but he tore apart many families in the process. Including yours.

・And to say you were happy about his death... was an understatement

・It’s what drew you and Genya close

・After Nikolai’s coronation, Genya needed someone to lean on, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And with Alina being busy growing as a future monarch, and Zoya...not the type of person to give comfort, you were the best option

・Genya didn’t want the friendship to be based on a need of hers

・But she couldn’t help how comfortable she felt around you

・And soon you were joking around with each other; teasing, having ridiculous amounts of banter

・It was a facade at first though; a way not to talk about the deeper stuff. The hurt. The pain. The unbearable grief. 

・But sifting through that pain was the only way for Genya to grow, and get past David

・It took a year, but she no longer cried whenever she thought about him. She no longer cowered at shadows or whimpered in the darkness. She had embraced it. 

・But something else grew, a sort of ... possessiveness from Genya

・She called it having a need to protect you

・However, what it really was, ... was a deep seeded worry that you too would be taken away from her. That someone or something would take you away, either by force or by putting thoughts in your head. 

・So jealousy became an easy emotion to erupt from the Tailor. 

・At first you would appease her, try to calm her down and tell her that nothing would take you away from her. But after weeks turning into months of doing so, you were ready to make it a little fun

・Now when she sees you with a pretty girl, you twirl your hair and flutter your eyelashes just a bit more, or when someone asks to do something with you - you accept, to watch the face of Genya. 

・Some would say it was mean, but you never truly meant anything you said when you knew she was listening. 

・And when you were alone with her, you cup her face and kiss it all over. Feeling the warmth, the jealousy practically seeping through her skin. 

    “Now do you believe me?” You whisper.

[swanimagines]

LITTLE ROMANCE | DANYA

Summary: Imagine teasing Genya about her feelings for David, because you know he too is in love with her.

There weren’t many parties at the Little Palace, but when there was, they were magnificent and you all were dressed in your absolute best.

Genya was beside you, David not far behind, and you caught them sneaking glances at each other, like they always did. You had known about their mutual feelings for a long time - Genya denying them of course. But you knew the look she had when she looked at David, the same look David looked at her. They were definitely in love, both thinking their love is unrequited.

Saints, people in love could be stupid sometimes.

“When are you going to just admit it?” you mumbled into her ear, and she shot you a look, an obvious blush coming to tint her cheeks. “He’s looking at you right now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “And you probably see wrong.”

You glanced at David, and he immediately looked away as your eyes met. Genya nudged you with her elbow. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For trying to embarrass me,” she muttered, trying to keep a straight face and you rolled your eyes at it.

“I don’t have to be a heartrender to know his heart is pounding just as much as yours is right now.”

“Don’t listen to his heart.”

“I don’t need to. It’s rather hard to ignore, I barely hear my own thoughts over your hearts.”

Genya was silent for a moment, watching people dancing as the orchestra played.

“I have an idea, ask him to dance,” you suggested with a smirk.

“What?”

“Or I can do it for you.”

Genya’s heart skipped a beat as she swallowed, her face reddening further. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You sighed, settling to look at all those posh people all around the world dancing, trying to make up a new way to encourage Genya to finally make a proper move rather than staring at David and telling him his work is amazing while they both stared at each other, stiff as statues.

“Does his heart really pound that loud?” Genya suddenly muttered, and your smile widened again as you turned to look at your best friend smugly.

“There’s a way to find out,” your eyes shifted at David as a side glance, and nudging Genya lightly, and she finally dared herself to look at David, who was too late with looking away and you chuckled. “Told you.”

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[sophierequests]

genya safin

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Angst: ☾ ┃ Fluff: ♡ ┃ Hurt/Comfort: ☆ ┃ Smut: ♤

“I am not ruined. I am ruination.”

oneshots

scars don't change a thing (☆) → After the attack of the nichevo'ya, Genya distances herself from everyone, and the reader doesn't know how to deal with that. In a last attempt she tries to ask Zoya for advice.

The people at court called her razrusha'ya - the Ruined - and it made you feel sick to your stomach. Beauty had always been one of Genya’s specialities, her own exceeding the ones of any other Grisha. She was a Tailor, after all, so her affinity with the pretty and aesthetic little things made sense. To you, she was more than just her looks, but it was a harder task to make her see that.

the writing on my arm tells stories of a different time (♡) → Everyone has a sentence written on their arm in black ink, revealing the first words your soulmate says to you. After the first conversation, the ink turns red. The reader almost stopped believing in her soulmate, until she meets them completely unexpectedly.

There were many rumours surrounding the scarred Tailor, but if you had to approve one, it would be that she was absolutely stunning. Her vibrant red hair was curled perfectly, sitting on her head like a carefully crafted wig. Even though her face was scarred, and her missing eye was covered by a flawlessly fitting eye patch, she still looked incredible.

they don't know about us (♡) → Unbeknownst to their best friends the reader and Genya had been dating for quite a while now. But what happens when Nikolai and Zoya are set on getting the two of them together?

“I don't want to irritate you, but I just can't watch the two of you act like little lovesick children whenever you’re around each other any longer.” he insisted, making you roll your eyes in dismay, “Just…go ask her out or something! I can’t take it anymore. The flirting and constant eye fucking is getting way too much!”

will i ever be the one you see while falling asleep? (♡) → Oblivious childhood friends try to figure out whether their feelings are mutual.

It was common for her to have nightmares, even before the king’s advances. When you both were children, she would often sneak into your room and wake you up, telling you about her dreams and letting you comfort her. Even though she stopped doing it as you got older, she still wanted to return to these simpler times, when she could just come into your room in the middle of the night without thinking about it.

all my life i've been heading for hell (☆) → After the threat of the Darkling's reign of terror became a more present threat, the reader decided to leave it all behind. Genya stayed.

Genya watched you silently while you hastily packed as many of your belongings as you could. You had heard her entering, but you didn’t even spare her one look as you combed through your room. She chose her side a long time ago, and you wouldn’t stay to watch this nightmare become reality.

just how fast the night changes (♡) → Nikolai's younger sister has been crushing on Genya for years now, but for some reason said Tailor just won't see her as anything else than the king's baby sister.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’m not particularly busy today, so having someone to talk to wouldn’t be all too bad.” The words tumbled out of your mouth rather clumsily, and you internally prayed to anyone who might listen that you didn’t appear too awestruck.

tree decorating (♡) → Genya helps the reader with decorating the Christmas tree.

“Weren’t Tolya and Tamar supposed to decorate the tree?” she laughed, finally entering the room fully to take in the absolute chaos you had produced.

headcanons

being married to genya headcanons pt. 1┃pt. 2 (♡)

lady-in-waiting!genya x princess !reader (♡)

[heliads]

So because there can’t be enough drama (if you don’t want to write that it’s okay!): Male squaller that is now married to Genya, travelling with the darkling (basically being a second Zoya) on the hunt for the amplifiers with the kidnapped Alina. However when Stormhound arrives he realises how dangerous the darkling is, throwing Genya onto the other ship and saving her this way. Now the one who gets tortured by the shadow monsters, always forgetting their names, is him (since he clearly worked against the darkling and the darkling probably is like „who needs two squallers that are fiercely loyal when you already have zoya?“) and when they finally met each other at the chapel he is convinced he isn’t worthy of Genyas love anymore because of the scars. Pretty dark, but at least he is staying alive in this one 😹

i love drama with all my heart

masterlist

It is a difficult thing, realizing that you might be on the wrong side of a war. It is worse knowing that your friends were aware of the truth all along and failed to convince you to come to the right side. Now, you’re stuck among monsters, wondering if you’ll ever get a chance to switch sides or if you'll be doomed to die with the wrong people. 

Being trapped on a ship with somebody who you’re now growing to appreciate is the enemy certainly doesn’t help matters either. The Darkling has always been cold, always shifty, but now you can add treacherous to that mix.

It’s not the best place to be at the moment, to say the least. Factor in the fact that you also got your wife into this mess and you’re looking at far more risk than you’d ever like. Outside the protective walls of Os Alta, the danger seems to be heightened tenfold. Your mixed feelings only add to that paranoia.

Usually, this is the point at which you go to your wife and beg for her counsel. Genya Safin is brilliant at strategy, a fact that bewilders most people who don’t know her well. They take one glance at her then stop cold, thinking that gilded trappings and pretty, batting lashes are all they need to gauge someone’s character.

You thought differently. Perhaps that’s why you were lucky enough to marry her. Since you first arrived at the Little Palace and were able to practice your gifts as a Squaller without fear of death, all of your memories have seemed to glow with light, but your wedding day shines with an entirely different kind of power. Images of Genya smiling at you and reciting her vows are the sorts of things that never leave a person. Even a man as tormented as you.

You’ve come to rely on Genya’s advice, but in times like these, she’s just as worried as you are. Ever since Alina ran from the Grand Palace the night of the Winter Fete, ever since the Sun Summoner was dragged back and had those antlers locked around her throat, ever since she blew up the skiff and ran, Genya has been conflicted. Some part of her wonders if she’s truly doing the right thing. You wish you could help ease her mind, but you’re struggling with the same thoughts.

After all, what proof do you have that the Darkling’s side truly is the right one? Yes, he supported you as a young Grisha in need of a home, and yes, he protected the practitioners of the Small Science like no one else, but he’s done some terrible things as well. Alina tried to tell you that the Darkling was the one to create the Shadow Fold in the first place. Maybe she was right.

The two of you are reminded of this revelation in twofold now that Alina is back with you again. The Darkling managed to capture her and that otkazat’sya tracker, Mal Oretsev, a short while ago, and now you’re all on the same ship, searching for a new amplifier. You have no idea if you’ll truly be able to find the sea whip, but you seem to be growing closer by the day, if Mal’s restless mutterings are to be believed.

As more time passes, you find yourself convinced that the Darkling is in the wrong. You’ve seen how he keeps Alina locked away, how he leverages lives in an effort to regain the Sun Summoner as a weapon. Genya doesn’t want to talk about it, but you get the feeling she’s starting to come around, too.

It is now, in the depths of your terrifying revelations, that you gain a new piece of information. It was not meant to drift to your ears, this conversation, but any words whispered on the air have a way of making their way to a nearby Squaller. You and Zoya learned this trick a while ago, and you use it now to great effect.

The secret you learn is that the captain of this ship, Sturmhond, is planning on deceiving the Darkling as soon as the sea whip is found. He’ll have another ship join up and then ferry Alina, Mal, and the mythical beast away under the guise of an attack.

Seeing as you’re supposedly on the Darkling’s side, you have free rein over the ship, able to wander wherever you see fit. This allows you to visit Sturmhond’s office later and present him with a deal:  you won’t tell the Darkling about the privateer’s upcoming escape attempt if he takes Genya with him.

At first, Stumhond isn’t having it. He has no proof that you or Genya won’t turn him in anyway, and besides, he only counted on having two extra mouths to feed. It takes a bit of bargaining, but you think you’ve managed to win the captain over. The only problem is that you’ll have to find a way to get Genya onto Sturmhond’s ship when it pulls up, a feat which will be difficult to accomplish in the middle of the fight.

Regardless, you’re willing to do it. Alina needs a shot to free all of you from the Darkling’s influence, and you need an opportunity to get your wife to safety. You harbor no illusions about being to escape alongside Genya; the Darkling will be fighting to reclaim all passengers trying to leave him, there’s no way you’d be able to flee as well. If you’re lucky, Genya can make it over, but not you.

That’s a fate you’re willing to accept, however. You bide your time, and soon enough Mal is shouting that the sea whip is within sight. Harpoons are launched and the beast is dragged close to the ship. You have to hand it to Sturmhond, he picked his moment well. In all the tumult of trying to capture the sea whip, no one notices another ship approaching, especially not with Sturmhond’s Squallers conjuring up mists to disguise it. You’re certainly not about to inform the Darkling otherwise.

Before you know it, dozens of rogue sailors are appearing out of nowhere, securing the sea whip to their ship instead. You see Alina and Mal being tossed over to the ship, and through the chaos of the scene, you see Stumhond nod once at you. It’s time.

Genya is by your side; she doesn’t like to leave you, not when both of you feel so threatened by the Darkling’s wrath. You pull her close one last time, and whisper in her ear that you love her, you always will. Genya has just enough time to realize what you’re about to do. Her face drops with horror, but you’re spreading your hands, using your gifts as a Squaller to lift her carefully to the other ship. 

With the last of your energy, you join Sturmhond’s Grisha in pushing the Darkling’s ship away. You sense shadows looming around you, and then all is lost. The last sound you hear of your lover is her scream carried over to you by the whistling winds, begging you to return to her. You’re not sure that you will.

Although all Grisha feel protected by the Darkling’s might, none of you much like the idea of crossing him. The Darkling’s temper is infamous, his ideals of revenge bloody and brutal. You have the chance to understand that fully now that you’ve betrayed him by helping Genya and the others escape.

You are not sure of where you are, nor where you got where you did. All you know is pain, neverending pain, the howls of the Darkling’s merzost shadow creatures as they tear into your flesh and bone. The Darkling wants information, but you have none. You did not turn him into a rival agency, you simply wanted to protect your wife. He keeps searching, expecting some corner of your mind to give up your secrets if he applies enough pain, but there is nothing. Still, he keeps looking.

The names disappear first from your head. You’d thought it would be the faces. Usually, that’s how memories work, isn’t it? You picture scenes from your past but the characters themselves are blurred, blocked from you forever by an inability to remember the details. As the torture progresses, you start to forget just why you’d betrayed the Darkling that day on the ship. 

It was for someone, you remember that. A woman. A brief thought occurs to you that she was yours, but it disappears just as quickly. There’s a ring in your finger, but you can’t remember why. Those gaps in your memory aren’t enough to convince you to remove it, though. Something much deeper than your own distinct thoughts keeps the ring with you.

The pain stops eventually. It might be months later, maybe only weeks, but it is for quite a long time indeed. You run your hands over your face when that light pressure doesn’t produce agony and marvel at what your fingers find. You had a vague recollection of what you looked like, but the deep scars and gouges in the skin are new. One of your eyes is gone, plucked from your skull as penance. An eye for an eye. The Darkling was always quite literal in his threats.

There are fragments of memories swirling around in your subconscious. A woman with red hair, smiling at you and only you. The churning of a restless sea. Someone screaming a name that could be yours. You suppose you’ll never know why or how it happened. There is only the pain, and then the uneasy restlessness of being alone in endless darkness.

The Darkling comes for you again, forcing you to walk with him. He travels a great distance to somewhere that seems familiar. The merzost creatures snap at you, reminding you how much they enjoy the taste of your blood. You stay by yourself. You stare at your hands, which have remained untouched. Although the Darkling punishes traitors, he would never rob a Grisha of their gift. That is his idea of mercy.

You are needed some time later. The Darkling stands in the ruins of a church. He surveys a battered and bruised group of Grisha before him. They can’t see you, not yet, so you have a chance to study them. A quiet voice in your head whispers in shock that this can’t be it, that surely there are more of you. You have no idea what would tell it otherwise.

A girl at the front of the group, dark-haired, holds up her hands and they glow with light, forcing the shadows back. Another young woman stands at her side, her face as entrancing as a fantasy. Something twists in your throat, bringing tears to your eyes, and you realize she’s the redheaded woman from your dreams, the one who refuses to let you rest. Genya. Your Genya. Yours no longer.

As if reading your mind, the Darkling extends an arm, and you’re forced to your feet. Genya’s face contorts with horror, and you feel sickness expand in your stomach. She is beautiful, always has been, and what are you now? Some scarred thing, a wreck of blood and bone. If you were ever fit for her, you certainly aren’t now.

The sun-girl raises her arms, shouting for the rest to go. You stay motionless, waiting to die, but Genya rushes forward, dragging you back with her. You move on instinct, running with the rest of the pack until you stop moving. You hear whispers that you’re protected by the Soldat Sol and you’re in a place called the White Cathedral. You don’t like to talk to anyone much, even after the running starts and the hiding begins. The others have a way of staring and muttering that you don’t much like.

There is one person who refuses to leave you alone, though, and that is Genya. At first, you cannot fathom why. She keeps up a happy bubble of conversation, utterly one-sided. It only faltered once, and that was when the dark robe you wear shifted back to reveal your scarred hands. She saw the ring on your finger, how you stubbornly clutch to it like it might save your life, and burst into tears.

She was better after that, and slowly, carefully, you remember why it might have upset her. Genya is your wife. You are her husband. She thought you were dead, and in truth, you might be, but even in the midst of life-ending pain, you kept your wedding ring. That is love if nothing else.

As the memories start to piece themselves together again, you tell Genya to leave. She doesn’t deserve to be stuck with someone like you for the rest of your life. You are the thorns to her rose, scars and grief compared to a flawless image. She refuses every time, recounting how you’d stood by her when she needed help. You were the only one who saw her as more than a face, she said, and now she’ll do the same with you.

It will take a while to fully let yourself believe her. It will take longer to mend and heal and come back to who you were. Still, you think you’d like to try. It would be nice to be you again. It is good, then, that you have someone by your side who remembers who that was.

requested by @schroedingers-kater, i hope you enjoy!

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

[fanfics4world]

Nothing else matters

Word count: 1250

Pairings: Genya Safin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Shadows loom over both of you as you try to escape, you have one thing on your mind, protect her.

You were running through the stone corridors fleeing the darkness, looking for some source of light. You could hear the Nichevo'ya behind you.

Your hand was tightly gripped in Genya's, you were not going to let go, you were not going to lose her because of your brother's madness.

You turned a corner and came to a dead end corridor. You looked at Genya, whose face had an expression of pure terror.

"We're going to die…" she said defeated. You turned and held her face in your hands, lightly stroking her scars.

"No, do you hear me? We're not going to die, I won't allow it," then you saw it, a door to your right, you cursed yourself internally that you hadn't noticed.

"This way," you opened the door and both of you stepped inside, you had reached one of the kitchens. There seemed to be no way out. You heard the Nichevo'ya approaching the door.

No, this would not end like this. You ran to the dumbwaiter at the back and lifted the door, there was space for one person.

"Come in" you said to Genya, she hesitated for a moment, but finally entered the dumbwaiter.

"Y/N, how will we do it, there's only space for one-", before she could finish, you lowered the door and placed a board to lock it.

"Y/N? Y/N?! What are you doing?", Genya desperately tried to open the door, knocking as she watched you through the small mirror of the dumbwaiter.

"You will go up to the kitchens upstairs and wait for everything to pass" you said ignoring Genya's pleas for you to open the door.

"NO! Y/N! Please! I can't lose you, open the door!" tears welled up in Genya's eyes, the sight broke your heart, but it had to be this way.

"Genya, look at me, everything is going to be fine. But you have to promise me that you won't come out until it's completely safe" you said, Genya shook her head, but finally nodded.

You heard the Nichevo'ya knock on the door, they were coming in. "When you come out, find David and meet up with Alina and the others. I will come and get you, I promise" you said placing your hand on the glass.

"I love you Genya" you said before pressing the lever for the freight elevator to go up. You heard her screaming your name, but you snapped back to reality when you saw the kitchen door fly out and two Nichevo'ya coming in.

"Were you guys hungry? I'm afraid we finished all the soup" you said drawing your shadow sword.

"That was… heartwarming…" you saw your brother coming out from behind the Nichevo'ya. "Love… That was always your weakness little sister" Alexander said. You knew Alina wanted to take his life, but if the opportunity presented itself, you would do it yourself.

"At least my weakness was real, and not for the purpose of gaining more power" you replied, you saw Alexander's face become serious.

Genya had told you many times that your words would end up killing you, maybe the time had come.

"Everything I did was to protect us, to protect you!" he shouted, another lie…. This was starting to get repetitive.

"You did it for you, for your own ego. You said you created the shadow to protect the Grisha, and I believed you, I forgave you, because I thought you could change…. But I was wrong, you didn't change Alexander, you simply hid your plans…. And you almost killed us all" you answered.

"It hurts me that you think like that…. But I want you to remember, I gave you a choice" he said before disappearing surrounded by shadows.

[...]

Pain… That was all your body felt…. You fought, you tried, but those monsters were practically indestructible, not even your shadows could protect you.

And there you were, sitting against the kitchen wall, blood emanating from the hole in your abdomen, you would have rather died.

You felt your body numb, unable to move and you felt how with each breath, the next one became more difficult.

With all the pain going through you, you moved your hand and pulled out of your pocket a small black felt box.

Genya always said you should change color, but black would always be with you, even if you didn't want it, a constant reminder of your ancestors' deeds.

You opened the box with the press, and looked sadly at the ring, a red ruby on top.

Genya… The only light that was able to remain in your darkness, the light that guided you to do something you never thought you would experience again… Happiness…

"She's okay, you saved her…" you reminded yourself, and in that moment, nothing mattered. She was your world, and if she was okay, nothing else mattered.

"Y/N? Where are you taking me?" you turned to see Genya, hair was down and she had a smile on her face, there was a black blindfold covering her eyes.

You find yourselves walking through the corridors of the Little Palace, it was night time and everyone else was resting in their rooms.

"I have to show you something, it's a surprise" you said as you pulled her towards one of the balconies.

"Mmmm, I already deduced that from the tape covering my eyes" you couldn't help but laugh, which made Genya's smile widen.

You both stepped out onto the balcony. "Do you trust me?" you asked, you knew the answer, but you loved hearing it.

"Always," she said. You let go of her hand and closed the door. You stood behind her. "Ready?" you asked, Genya nodded. You removed the tape and watched as her eyes lit up.

The stars were shining brightly in the sky, reflecting in her pupils. "It's a beautiful night Y/N" she said looking at you. You grabbed her hand and both of you walked over to the stone railing.

"Despite the darkness of the sky, the stars shine, managing to pierce the darkness. In the old days they were used as maps to reach destinations, as guides" you explained while looking at the sky.

"You are my star Genya Safin, you broke through my darkness and shone, guiding me" you confessed.

Genya turned to look at you and your gazes met, you could get lost in those eyes a hundred times, you loved it.

"You are my light, my guide. You stayed with me despite my darkness, and I can never thank you enough for that" you said clasping her hands.

"But I can promise you that as long as you are with me, I will do everything in my power to make you happy, I will give you the world if you ask me to" you added and you could see how Genya tried not to cry.

"I love you Genya, as I have never loved anyone" you confessed.

Before you could say anything else, Genya's lips caught you. The kiss was sweet, but in that moment all promises were sealed.

Your hands traveled to her waist, pulling her closer to you. That moment was yours, nothing else mattered.

When you parted, your hands remained on her waist, and your foreheads pressed together.

"I don't need the world, because I have you Y/N"

"I love you" she said, in that moment you felt like the happiest person in the world. You were together, she was yours and you were hers.

You blinked several times coming back to reality.

You clenched the ring tightly in your hand.

"Forgive me Genya…", you let the darkness consume you with only one thought in mind.

Her.

A.N: Hello! I know I've been missing for a while, but I'm back with new ideas that I'll upload soon. As always, if you have any ideas or suggestions, write to me

[in-my-feels-probably]

alright my loves…

my shadow and bone and six of crows phase has officially resumed, especially with the new season coming out.

and i need requests!

(book or show, it doesn’t matter)

i really enjoy writing for kaz, and prefer requests for him.

however, i’ll write for pretty much any of the other characters, except for a few. (if you send me a request with a character that i don’t write for, or i can’t do the request, i’ll let you know and see if i can write you something else). so feel free to send me a request for any of the characters you like besides kaz, too, and i’ll take it.

if you have any questions, let me know. otherwise, that’s it! i’ll get more specific with details once the new season is out, but i’m really excited to write for the grishaverse again. both the show and the books.

✨feel free to send in any ideas or requests!✨

[youremyonlyhope]

I wish they went further with the make up for Genya's scars. They already look half healed. I wanted more at least at the beginning.

[bi-bard]

I Can't Control the Overflow, Emotions Rolling Like a Stone - Genya Safin Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: I Can't Control the Overflow, Emotions Rolling Like a Stone

Pairing: Genya Safin X Reader

Word Count: 1,545 words

Warning(s): mention of injury, mention of Genya's past (very, very vague SA mention)

Summary: [Inspired by "Crushing Me" from Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies] In which Genya has to deal with feelings that are going to interfere with her work.

Author's Note: First of all, I don't want an ounce of judgement for this, got it? Second of all, Genya deserves a bit of softness because we just can't give the poor girl a break.

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

"You can't just fix all of my training injuries."

Genya didn't bother to look away from the burn wound on (Y/n)'s arm when they spoke to her. A rough day training with an Inferni. She just hummed quietly, still dragging her thumb over the skin.

"I'm never going to learn if you do," (Y/n) added.

Genya scoffed.

If that truly mattered, then she would have stopped her habit years ago when they first became friends.

She and (Y/n) had known each other for almost as long as they had been at the Little Palace. Their obligations were far different. They truly had many factors working against the two of them being as close as they were. Their friendship managed to make it through all of that.

And they were both grateful that it did.

There was a small grin of pride when the skin on (Y/n)'s arm ended up completely healed.

"Artwork, truly," (Y/n) complimented. "What would I do without you?"

Genya chuckled. "Still get yourself hurt?"

"Well, that was just mean," they muttered.

Genya rolled her eyes before moving forward in her seat. She touched (Y/n)'s chin, holding their face still as she moved her other hand and ghosted over a wound on their lip.

They both seemed unbothered for a moment. However, as one of Genya's hands fell away, they both suddenly realized just how close they truly were. Genya's eyes went slightly wide while (Y/n)'s mouth remained just slightly opened in some poor attempt to hide a shocked expression.

Oh, saints, life would be so much easier for both of them if these moments never happened.

It was no one's fault but their own. They both had let their feelings follow them through the years. They never entertained them, never confessed them, but the feelings were always there. They hung over the pair's heads like a cloud. Constantly there. Both of them had some understanding of it, but they willfully ignored any and all possibility that such feelings could be shared. Each one in denial of ever being enough for the other. And even if they were, it would never be allowed.

Genya leaned back suddenly, clearing her throat. "Please, be more careful."

There was a small pause between them before (Y/n) mumbled a response, "You too."

Genya's safety.

Another topic constantly on each of their minds that they each seemed to refuse to ever acknowledge.

Those small moments taunted Genya.

She thought of them constantly as she moved from one task to another. Everything became automatic motions. She would be stuck with (Y/n)'s face, voice, thoughts on a constant loop. Even when she was speaking to someone.

It was becoming an interference that Genya feared would come back on her in some way.

Sleep offered little peace. She would either dream of the possibilities if she just moved an inch closer to (Y/n) or she would be plagued with sleeplessness, contemplating finding them and trying to find some peace in being held.

It was both heaven and hell.

Being infatuated with someone offered a cursed sweetness. This innocence of longing and love with this haunting fear of being pushed away if that longing should be known. Or worse, never being able to have that longing be known at all.

Genya always noted how (Y/n) never seemed as affected as Genya did.

They would still smile as bright as ever. They would laugh and ramble and pretend as if the two of them weren't being held apart by whatever cruel hand that the saints had played in the hopes of taunting them.

She saw (Y/n)'s shell crumble once.

They had snuck away somewhere in the dark, both needing a break from the world around them.

(Y/n) had told the story of being dragged from home kicking and screaming. Begging to go home to their parents. Their mother had been sick when they had been taken away. (Y/n) never heard from their parents again, but was convinced that their mother was long gone by that point.

Genya sat and listened with a crumbling heart. She watched a tear roll down their face and instinctually reached out to wipe it away.

Genya was convinced that she fell in love (Y/n) then and there. When this trust between them was so clearly established that nothing felt like it was off limits.

It would be a few weeks later that Genya confessed to what all of her tasks included. She had to beg (Y/n) not to tell anyone or do anything. Their temper was much worse then, still filled with an anger for Kirigan that never truly dissipated. Such anger merely moved to the background.

(Y/n) only agreed because they valued Genya more than anything else they had.

(Y/n) was never clearly as angry as they were that night.

Veiled threats were made at times. Quiet promises of the king's downfall as soon as given the chance.

Genya would force a scoff, mutter about being guilty of treason.

(Y/n) would play ignorant, "I am not saying that any such technique should be used on any member of the royal family. Merely that such a technique would be very efficient if it was needed."

That would usually bring a genuine chuckle from Genya.

Those discussions were reserved for those late nights together. When there was no interruption. No interference.

During the day, (Y/n) remained focused on being happier, softer. A constant source of kindness.

That kindness was what wore down Genya's armor the most. The soft smiles and kind words. The moments of softness that seemed to greatly contrast the world around them both.

And at the end of the day, that kindness would be the reason that Genya broke.

It would be the last ounce of weight before Genya's walls seemed to break. The dam broke.

Genya was in the halls of the Little Palace, watching the sun outside the window as it moved. The hall was empty. It was a rarity. One that she had learned to cherish very early on.

"Genya!"

The whispered call of her name snapped her out of whatever daydream she had been caught in.

(Y/n) walked quickly around the corner, an excited smile clearly painted on their face. Genya couldn't help but smile back at them.

"I have a gift," they explained. That was when Genya noticed their arm behind their back.

"What is it," she asked.

(Y/n) moved their arm, holding out a small pastry sitting on a napkin.

"How did you get that?"

"Rare moment of kindness during dinner," they said. "I thought you would like it more than I would."

Genya took the napkin from them. (Y/n)'s smile was still unmoving as Genya took a bite.

"How it is?"

She covered her mouth to maintain some manners as she responded, "Delicious. You are wasting your treat on me."

"I am afraid that you are wrong about that," (Y/n) chuckled.

"Here," she moved to rip the treat in half.

"You can't give back a gift," (Y/n) refused.

"You can't decide what I do with a gift," she countered. "Now, take it."

(Y/n) dramatically rolled their eyes like it was such an inconvenience to take half of the pastry. They took a bite, letting out a quiet hum.

"That's amazing," they muttered, crumbs already gathering just below their bottom lip.

"And you are a mess," Genya laughed quietly, reaching over to wipe away the crumbs.

"What would I do without you," (Y/n) asked.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure that you would be completely lost without your tailor," Genya said sarcastically.

"I would," (Y/n) replied genuinely. There was a pause as the sentiment sunk in for both of them. (Y/n) tried to push past the moment. "And you would be lost without your Inferni. You would get so bored if you didn't have my wounds to fix up."

Genya chuckled. "I would get tired if all I got to work on was the queen's... bits."

"I did not want to think about that."

"I sincerely apologize..." Genya's sarcastic tone trailed off when she realized just how close the pair of them were.

(Y/n) noticed it too. Their entire face seemed to soften as they did.

Genya's face started to turn red as she nervously pulled her hand away. (Y/n) was ready to mutter out some other sarcastic response in the hopes of covering up the entire event.

Before any word ever slipped from their mouth, Genya leaned forward and pressed her lips to theirs. It was a mere moment before she leaned back again. A second, at most.

(Y/n)'s smile grew wider as they realized what happened.

"I... I should get going," Genya mumbled, face becoming even warmer than they were before.

"Are you sure," (Y/n) asked.

"Yes, I... I'm certain that I'm needed somewhere," she replied. "Thank you for this, by the way."

"You're welcome," (Y/n) nodded. Genya started to walk away. When she was a few steps away, (Y/n) spoke up again. "Genya!"

She turned to (Y/n), eyebrows raised.

"That was... nice," they grinned. "The kiss... it was nice."

She paused for a moment. "I agree."

The pair smiled at each other before each going in their respective directions.

And for the first time in a long time, Genya didn't mind having daydreams of (Y/n) playing while she worked.

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[charliekellybutworse]

alina & genya:

would you pick me in a room full of people?

well of course! you’d be lighting up the entire room, i’d be stupid not too!