#grishaverse genya x reader

[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.

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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.

[seronsalk]

A waltz with shadows

My Masterlist.

Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x Sun Summoner fem!reader

AN: I had this idea, and I changed some things because I always thought it was really silly how Alina, a girl from the army, suddenly just started trusting a shadow man. (It's not extremely romantic sorry)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mention of alcohol and other substance use.

Cute starry dividers from: @saradika (who is an absolute blessing with their creativity!)

Word count: 1,310k

It was the day of the winter fate and the atmosphere couldn't have been more busy.

The constant thought of the last couple of weeks remained at the front of your brain, everything was so different, especially you and the general.

You still didn't trust him, but the eerie longing feeling you had towards him lingered on your skin. Craving him to wrap his hand around your wrist again, no. You pushed those thoughts away, you didn't need a man to be there, Baghra was right as much as you hated to admit it.

As if on que, snapping you from your thoughts, Genya barged in holding a kefta and a servant brought in her kit before exiting swiftly.

"Saints, thank goodness I got here in time," she said widening her eyes at the look of your messy hair.

You breathed out a small laugh and with that Genya was at work.

"I know the general insisted on black for the performance, but afterwards I was thinking you could go back to the blue?" Genya expressed.

"Unless somehow he convinces me otherwise, I probably will, though I wouldn't want to come off as ungrateful, " you stated.

Genya paused her tailoring, "Don't feel like you have to always please him, I want you to be careful." "Careful of what?" you asked, a little confused.

"Powerful men."

"I know, I've seen a corrupted general or two, if he is like them, there is no difference," you stated, thinking back about some of the generals who you knew had used there army salaries to just drown themselves in liquor.

You decided to not clue Genya in on how you were weirdly drawn to Kirigan. Immediately hearing your thoughts say 'Kirigan' made you remember he had given you his name, though you had honestly ignored him.

Genya smiled, before continuing her work.

Later,

you both were walking through the hall and many of the ambassadors and guests of the royals were definitely gawking at you.

You were certain that if self control didn't exist a couple of them would have asked to marry you right then, not that you would have said yes.

As you and Genya walked you came to the main hall, "I can't enter with you, besides they aren't ready for you." However before she could get that through your brain, your gaze landed on Kirigan. He was speaking to the king and queen, you immediately walked in.

Murmurs caught his attention as he turned his gaze meeting you, you noticed his eyes wandered downward. His eyes were always so enticing as somehow you could see no emotion on his face, but every emotion in his eyes.

No matter how deep, dark and black those two pools were, getting lost in them was honestly a gift.

Before you could continue to think about his eyes, you came to your senses noticing he was now in front of you, "you were supposed to enter accompanied by guards," he said his eyes looking around before meeting your gaze.

Ah, there they were again, "You look lovely by the way."

"I can see you really got dressed up as well," she said with a teasing smile noticing he was wearing the same black kefta he always wore.

He smiled, "You don't like my different shade of black?" Then again their conversation was interrupted.

The Inferni twins started their demonstration, keeping the eyes on them and not you and the general for too long. Tossing balls of fire between each other with a few murmurs of interest from the audience.

When they finally ended their demonstration everyone clapped, but you nor the general did not. "It's time, let's show them all." He stated, before you could ask him any of your many questions.

He led you up on the wannabe stage-like platform before he drew the shadows into the hall quieting the guests and plunging them all into complete utter darkness.

As he turned, you focused on his eyes as you called your light. You split the beams into two and then heightened the light into the chandelier, like you had practiced.

Sending light bouncing off of everywhere in the room and the intensity of 'ouuing and ahhing' put a small smirk on your face.

When the light finally commenced, lots of them immediately started getting on a knee or so praying and saying "Sankta y/n." It felt extremely weird to be referred to as a saint.

The general helped you down and his facial expressions were unreadable, yet you found a strange emotion in his eyes almost hopeful.

Your suspicions had been confirmed when he simply said, "You are amazing, Miss l/n."

After being introduced to a few hundred people, you rejoined the general thinking about your bed and how tired you were. As if on que, the general held out his hand to you, "Would you like to dance?" You couldn't have imagined him dancing, especially with you.

As realization hit you hadn't given him an answer and instead left him patiently studying your facial expressions, you got out a quick, "I would love too."

With that he led you both to a part of the ballroom where a dance was about to begin. You grabbed his hand and rested your other on his shoulder. He placed his other hand on your waist and a chill was sent down your spine.

You both moved elegantly as one, and if anyone was watching, all they could see was the sun in the eclipse.

Your eyes locked with each other's as he spun you around before speaking.

"I know you aren't fond of my color on you, but I must say you look magnificent," he gawked.

Thinking on how to respond you smiled, "I must say its grown a little on me."

He smiled a little wider before they waltzed into a turn, even for a second of moving from each other's gaze it felt cold immediately, lost and empty.

And when it returned it was warm and sweet, safe and longing.

Feeling the need to say something you spoke up, "I would like to say that all these demonstrations of grishas abilities are honestly annoying, they aren't entertainers after all." He took a moment before responding, "No, We aren't." A slight smile creased your lips.

"It means a lot to know I am not the only one who doesn't appreciate these antics," he added.

Something in his eyes told you he was holding himself back on something else, but you didn't have to pry, he spoke softly, "You mean a lot to me and not just your power and what it means for everyone, but you yourself." That had your heart rate speeding up and you were sure Fedyor or Ivan were somewhere in the crowd silently smirking.

"Thank you," you paused before he pulled you closer for the last turn and in a near whisper so only he could hear it against his earlobe,

"Aleksander."

And the look in his eyes was all you needed to see, to know that he was your one and only future.

An: Alright shawty's I don't know about y'all, but this wasn't even like a big sappy thing I wanted, its just a little longing here and there let me know if you think I should I don't know make a part 2 or something!

Requests are always open, let me know what you got!

Thanks for reading, proud of you!

Shadow & Bone Masterlist!

<3

[allthornsnopetals]

{Hello, everyone I am allthornsnopetals, and welcome to my garden of mentally-ill fanfiction. Here you find a mix of Fandom's I write for. I am a bisexual mess of a woman, and I have no reason to not brain-rot, so here is my garden, enjoy!}

[ Rules ] [ Fandom's/Characters I write/Master lists ] [ Prompt list ] [ Writing tips found on Tumblr ]

[naddybln]

Headcanons Grishaverse x reader

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

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

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

- having lessons with Bagrah were hard but effective

- Bagrah and Aleksander proteticing you at all costs

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

- Ivan cracking a smile around you

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

- she likes you nevertheless

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

- trying to encourage her about David

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

- you visit David from time to time

- him explaining his new inventions

- you got hurt during training once and Aleksander went furious

- threatening everyone around him

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

- him not leaving your side for the first few days

- Genya taking care of you if she has the time

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

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

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

[amsgrey]

Smitten

Zoya Nazyalensky x Fem!Grisha!Reader

I am such a Zoya simp I love her so much. I wrote this in like an hour, so it's not that good but I just needed to write for my queen.

Synopsis: You return to the little Palace after the Civil War. You find you aren't the only one who came back for Ravka.

Warnings: not at all proofread or edited, some spoilers for sab s2 obvi, show!Zoya bc I haven't read the king of scars duology yet, kind of ooc Zoya bc I'm trying to learn how to get her right, reader and Zoya being smitten and Genya making fun of them, not really any good plot lol.

You had come to the little palace when you were 8, your father bringing you from your village at the border with Frejda. He worried that the Frejdan raids would get you killed, especially after he realized you were Grisha. The day he said goodbye to you was the last day you saw him, leaving you in the big world with no family. That quickly changed when you became friends with another Grisha your age, a squaller with strong powers and an even stronger will.

You two grew up together, getting closer and closer. You even went on missions together in The Wandering Isle. That changed when General Kirigan found the Sun summoner and Ravka became unstable. You had been stationed in Kerch, working to recruit Grisha and free Grisha slaves. After news of the Darkling's attack, you stayed and found a place to live hiding away from the Civil War that raged back home. You only returned after Tsar Nikolai's coronation, bringing Grisha you freed in Kerch.

Walking into the Little Palace after years away, you felt a strange feeling of wistfulness. You used to love walking the grounds of the little palace, often with Zoya or Nina, enjoying the nativity of childhood.

Standing on the steps leading into the Little Palace was Genya Saffin, neatly dressed in a pale gold Kefta. Once, she would be in a bright Red kefta to show her station as Corparlki, but now every Grisha wore the same Gold Kefta. Gold being the colour of the Ravkan Crown. She looked radiant, but you always thought that.

"Y/N," Genya greeted as you approached, "It's nice to see you again."

You smiled, reaching out and pulling her into a hug, "I've missed you."

Genya grinned, standing beside you as you looked out over the grounds. Grisha and Otkazat'sya were lounging in the autumn sun, enjoying a peaceful afternoon.

Genya told you to follow her, leading you up the stairs and into the palace. She ran you over the current operation, how Alina had set out to make friendships with Shu-Han and Nikolai was trying to win the war against Frejda.

"Zoya is in charge of training," Genya said, watching your face change at the mention of your best friend, "She's in a meeting with Nikolai and some of his Generals."

You nodded, "She always did say she would be the leader one day."

Genya couldn't help the smile that crept on her face as she heard your heart rate spike and watched a blush creep up your cheeks as she stared at you.

"Come," Genya insisted, leading you back down the stairs and towards the Palace. There were hardly any guards around the grounds, they used to patrol every inch of the palace grounds, but now they only did on the fences. Genya lead you into the Palace, through the winding halls and towards what you assumed must be the meeting room. You had never actually been in the main palace, it was an honour reserved for The Darkling's favourite Grisha and the servants of the crown.

Genya didn't have to knock on the doors, the two guards opened it for her without a second thought.

The room was occupied by a massive mahogany table, with enough chairs for every General in the Ravkan army. Only two people were sitting at the table, though. Tsar Nikolai and Zoya Nazyalensky.

You and Genya both curtsied, "Moi Tsar."

"Y/N?" Zoya was on her feet quickly, she rushed to you and pulled you into a tight hug. You savoured it, Zoya wasn't really one for hugs.

She pulled away and held you at arm's length, "You cut your hair."

You laughed, flicking her hair, "So did you. I like it." Zoya tried to hide the blush on her cheeks from Genya, you were blissfully unaware.

Nikolai stood from his seat at the head of the table, "Y/N L/N?" He walked over to the three of you, "I've heard a lot about you."

You looked between Zoya and the King, "Good things, I hope?"

Zoya rolled her eyes at your pointed stare. Nikolai looked between the two of you, and then to Genya to confirm what he was thinking. Genya was just smiling at the two of you being hopeless.

"Only good things," Nikolai answered, nudging Zoya playfully. In the last few weeks the two had become good friends, now Nikolai could see how smitten the squaller was.

You settled in quickly, the little palace always was and always could be your home. You quickly slipped into a routine, helping fellow Grisha with their training and even teaching Otkazat'sya how the small science worked. Zoya had valued your advice greatly, often letting you consult on decisions about your own powers.

Today, you both had cleared the afternoon to spend time together, having a picnic by the lake like you did when you were children.

Genya had been teasing Zoya about it for days, giggling at how the girl grew red in the face at the mention of you and her. Zoya had been dropping hints for a while, even before you parted ways before the Civil war. There was always something more between you.

You were laying on the grass in the sun, listening to Zoya rattle off what had happened during her morning.

You hummed once she finished, "Sounds..."

You searched for the right word. 'Exciting."

"Tiring," Zoya offered at the same time.

You laughed, turning your head to look at her. The sun cast her in a glow, framing her like a saint. To you, she might as well have been. You were always amazed by Zoya, her power, her mind... her beauty.

Zoya looked down at you, thinking similar things. Your hair was splayed underneath you, framing you in a kind of halo. You could have been her sun in your golden Kefta - which Zoya was convinced was your colour. Glowing up at her with a smile that warmed every part of her.

"Saints," Zoya mumbled, realizing how head over heels she was.

You blinked up at her, "What?"

Zoya felt her ears burning, she was not the fumbling blushing lover. She knew what she wanted and went for it.

You reached out for her hand, clasping it tightly, 'Somethings off with you."

Zoya scoffed, "You're imagining things."

You laughed, sitting up and moving a little closer.

"I think I'm seeing things very clearly."

"Oh? And what is it you see, Koshka?"

You giggled at the old nickname, one she had given you when you were both 12.

"You are as quiet as a cat, Y/N."

It gave you the same warm feeling now as it did then.

"I see a lot," You said defensively, watching Zoya quirk an eyebrow at you.

"I see the way Genya nudges you," You said, watching Zoya's face, "I see the way your ears get red when I compliment you and your brilliant mind."

"They do not," Zoya argued.

"They are right now!" You laughed, grabbing her face in your hands and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I love it when they do."

Zoya rolled her eyes, pretending to look irritated at you.

"I see the way you act all tough and intimidating," You continued, "The toll it takes on you."

It was true, the whole time you had known Zoya she was this way. In some ways, she needed to be. But you missed how gentle she was as a child and her love for Ravka.

"I see how hard you're working for our Grisha."

Zoya melted a little bit at the 'our Grisha'.

"And," You continued, grabbing both her hands again, "I see just how much your work is helping."

Zoya sighed softly, "Slowly."

"Slowly," You agreed, "but surely."

You both fell silent, you watched her face as she gazed over the lake.

"I think I needed to hear that," She said quietly.

"Can't be having our fearless leader forget how fantastic she is."

Zoya turned to you suddenly, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. With a sudden surge of confidence, she reached out, cupping your cheek in one hand and pressing her lips to yours. You kissed back almost immediately, your heart exploding in your chest. Your best friend, your Zoya, was finally kissing you.

When you both broke away, Zoya's face lit up in a grin.

You hummed a soft response, trying to show how you felt the same way. That made her smile even bigger. Her hand was still sitting gently on your cheek. You leaned into her hand, relishing the moment. You gently took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"Saints," You sounded breathy and Zoya leant in a little more, pressing her forehead to yours, "I love you."

[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

[notelcol]

Last vote!❤️

The top two characters in these results will be shipped together, with the story trope previously voted in as a guide. While the top character will feature in an x reader story of the same trope!

Thank you to everyone who has participated 🌹

[writerslittlelibrary]

Aleksander Morozova masterlist

main masterlist

fluff#, Angst *, Dark^

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

"What, are you?" when your abilities show themselves during a viscous Drüskelle attack, General Kirigan has you immediately transferred to the Little Palace for protection (coming soon)

[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

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

omg hi could you maybe do a high-school au where you're failing English lit and Tolya is assigned as your tutor and you had no idea he was good at English and just mutual crushing vibes over poetry and maybe he's a jock and you go to his games to cheer him on and yeah...

the song could be Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift

Okay, look. Normally I don't do AU stuff, because, so many reasons, but I looked at this request and thought about it, and then I thought about it out loud and it sent me and bestie spiralling so fast into a whole Shadow and Bone High School AU concept, that I kind of, have to write this. I kind of have to, but it will have a lot (A LOT) of AU background info so hold on tight buddy. It may get to the point where you're asking yourself "what happened to the original plot of the movie," and to that I say... Idk.

Between Classes And The Bell - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Explicit Language. Spoilers for Seasons 1 & 2 And Potential Book Spoilers Implied Throughout. Not Canon Compliant, As AU But Canon Referenced Throughout. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Word Count: 5k+

"My expectations are low," Kaz says, tapping his cane against the table as he passes Zoya, a gentle taunt. Zoya purses her perfect lips and taps her pencil against the table, refusing to take the bait. "But they can always go lower, of course."

"You really think this is an argument you'll win, Brekker?" Zoya asks, turning in her seat to look at him. He smiles, eyes darting to make sure there is no teachers to oversee the devilish smirk, and clasps his spare hand over the one holding the cane.

"Never been in a fight I couldn't," he says. Zoya looks ready to explode. And you can understand why, Kaz never loses Debate, and she was just beginning to think she had the upper hand on him, but he had only wanted her to think that.

"I don't think we need to take this so seriously," says another classmate, "we aren't being supervised."

"I think taking things more seriously when unsupervised is essential to a thriving environment," Kaz is mocking Zoya and she knows it. She wants to do something, and if she let her heated nature get the better of her, she might. But she just folds her arms, and takes in a deep breath. As Head Girl she has to be composed, and as Captain of the cheer squad she has long learnt composure. When Zoya breathes it is like even the air is competing for her attention, she is that kind of beautiful. You glance at her and she has her eyes closed, calming herself. She shouldn't let Brekker get under her skin so easily, but Zoya takes everything very seriously, whereas Kaz gives the illusion of caring about school, all the teachers think he is a perfect student, and his grades suggest as much, but it is more of a game to Kaz. But that would go unnoticed by most, after all, no body tends to look too closely at a boy with a cane. But you don't doubt he is probably the most threatening of all of you. You'd heard a rumour once that he was running a blackmail scheme and that's why his grades were perfect without trying. But you knew Kaz was smarter than he cared to display, and you didn't want to put too much stock in rumours. School is so full of them after all.

You get up as the class empties, and you try not to pay close attention to the way Kaz hovers in the room, awaiting it's empty, you cannot tell if he is waiting for someone or waiting for the silence.

Zoya is headed for cheer practice and you are quick to step out of her way, it is best not to get under her feet at the best of times, yet again when she is fuelled with rage from an argument and especially when she is running late at the expense of losing said argument.

You step to the side to let most of the crowd pass, but as the corridors empty you feel yourself getting confused about where you were going. You catch a glimpse of your science partners leather messenger bag, and watercolour eyes and you nod to yourself, science, you're sure you've got a science next... but which one? Probably Chemistry, you'll settle for Chemistry.

"You're getting all turned around again," comes a voice from behind you. You turn and the familiar face of Inej Ghafa, is closer than you expected it to be. Inej is one of The Dregs like Kaz, you hated that name, but High School will be as High School will be and names like that sort of stuck. They called them The Dregs because they were scholarship students who couldn't afford to be in the school without the scholarship, 'Dregs Of Society' as a senior had not so politely explained to you one day when you were fresh in and dumb enough to ask. You nearly jump out of your skin, seeing here so close to you, without sensing her at all. She has a tendency to do that, so light on her feet, petite and so quiet. You have often wondered if the ability to walk unheard came first or if it was something she had learned from being a gymnast. If the acrobatics came naturally and the silence was learned, you're not sure which would be more impressive. Inej is simply a marvel, her scholarship is based on her gym skills and you would never doubt why, you've never seen someone able to preform with such confidence and prowess as her. But more than that, it's her heart you've noticed most, so quiet and yet so endlessly kind.

"Am I?" you ask her. She nods.

"You have English," she tells you, pointing towards the arts block.

"I have Chemistry," you say quickly but Inej shakes her head.

"No you had Chemistry last semester in this time slot on a Thursday," she corrects you, "now you have English."

You pause, but you realise she is right. You don't bother questioning how she knows that, one of the things you were quick to learn about Inej was she seemed to know everything about everyone, it came with the quietness you guessed, that she can hear and learn everything about everyone while no one even notices she's there. You wonder if that's what Kaz sees in keeping her so close, but then again based on the way the boy looks at her, you'd guess that was something else.

You turn to thank her but she has already disappeared from sight.

You're not late but you are cutting it close when you make your way to your seat. Nina, who you know relatively well from the short time you spent in the drama department last year, at her own coaxing, throws you a smile. "Pass this back to the pretty one?" she asks, handing you a note.

You glance over your shoulder and you don't need to ask who she means, you should have guessed. Matthias is looking even less eager to be in this class than you feel, but you don't blame him. For an exchange student Matthias doesn't seem to be thrilled to be here at all, most of the time, except when he is with Nina, which he is every moment he has the opportunity to be.

Every time you hear him speak it is to tell Nina that something she is doing is improper, and where he grew up that would've never been allowed, and yet every time you see him he is staring at her with a look in his eyes that could make you believe in love all on its own.

"Please?" Nina asks, fluttering those long beautiful eyelashes at you. You've never seen anyone say no to Nina Zenik, it might not be at all possible.

"Of course Nina," you tell her and hand the note back. Matthias frowns, and you can see the thoughts bubbling to the surface. He mumbles something about etiquette and respect for educators and then recognises Nina's handwriting and stops his grumbling.

"I think I am winning him over yet," she grins before turning back to the front of class. Nina was studying to be a nurse, but after a particularly rough semester switched carer plans and now intends to be a mortician, most of her bubbliness has come back to her, but it's clearest enough when she has the blonde in her eyeline, he truly brings out the best in her.

You find yourself tuning out most of the lesson, which you know you shouldn't, your Literature teacher is old enough that you feel like you should be able to get away with not paying attention, but you know she sees everything, and you're more than a little convinced everyone is afraid of her. So you're knocked sick immediately when Miss Morozova asks you to stay behind as the class is finishing up. You hope for a moment you might have misheard her, but her cold eyes on you is confirmation that you didn't.

She beckons you to the desk with a flick of her wrist and you approach, wondering what misstep you took, but she just slides your previous paper across the wood at you, and you see your mark and goose bumps spread through your skin. Fuck.

"You're going to fail," she tells you. She has never had a knack for encouragement or being gentle with her students.

"That is not what I had hoped," you admit. She laughs, it's a cold type of laugh, all apathy and disappointment.

"Not about hope child, it's about application and effort, I am not sure if you're missing the point or if you are not trying to see the point at all, either way you're not getting where you need to be," she shuffles a few papers, "so I have assigned you a tutor, hopefully that should fix your shortcomings, if not you will fail this class."

"A tutor?" you ask, the cold feeling just continues to spread through your body. Please not Zoya, please not Zoya. You don't doubt she is good at it, you've seen the turn around of Zoya's tutoring, but she intimidates you if you're honest and you don't think that is optimal for your learning. "Who?"

"Tolya Yul Bataar," she says, not bothering to look at you, "I have already informed him, the rest he will sort out, you're dismissed."

"Tolya?" you ask. You hadn't thought about it, you know he is in the advanced class, but you'd never given it much thought. Always seen the jock first, which isn't surprising, his education likes to focus on his sports, they treat his twin sister Tamar the same. Their skills making your school highest in competitive sports, it makes the school want to focus on their athletics. But you're a little annoyed at yourself for not even thinking about it.

You've thought about Tolya more than enough to have justified thinking about his academics. But the slight crush you've had on the athlete who stands taller than you can reason and with arms you're convinced could move mountains, you have had time to think about him.

You had lunch with his sister once, just the once. Tamar is nowhere near as tall as her brother, with short cropped hair which is a contrast to Tolya's own, but her strength is just like his, even for her size she is fierce and unrelenting. She looks like she could fuck you up, and you know she has the power behind her to back that up, and she would, and is willing to if the need arises. Her girlfriend Nadia had also been present at that lunch and you'd wanted to talk more than you had. Tamar was a type of brave you often wanted to be, unapologetic in her braveness, equal parts bark and bite.

You don't try asking anymore questions, you're pretty eager to get out the classroom that you walk straight into the corridor, not thinking to look around you, and are met by a leaning Tolya, who is rested up against the notice board beside the door. If normally he makes your heart skip a few beats, seeing him waiting for you nearly makes your heart stop. You tell yourself that's a fear response, but you know you're lying. "Tolya," you say breathing a little too heavily.

"I didn't take you for the flunking English type," he smiles at you, "but then again how well do you know a person?"

You smile, trying to not blush too deeply and give yourself entirely away. "I didn't know I was flunking," you admit.

"That isn't reassuring," he says, but he isn't criticizing you, you know criticism when you see it.

"It wasn't supposed to be."

"I am sure we can fix it up, I am... fond of prose."

You're supposed to be studying Remains by Simon Armitage, but even in his tutoring state, you can tell Tolya is finding the poem just as painful as you are. You don't want to be difficult, you don't mean to be, you're stressed about the fact you're going to flunk English Lit, and you know Tolya wants to help. But this poem is driving your attention elsewhere, and in an attempt to not stare at the large, pretty, tutor doing his best to go through themes with you, you let your eyes wander around the library.

Jesper Fahey, the lean theatre student with the true talent for dramatics in every aspect of his life, right down to the way he is dressed with bejewelled collar pins and matching cufflinks, is leaning over your chemistry partner, giving him that smile you recognise. Jesper has always been a flirt, and he never misses the mark, you've seen him flirt with nearly everyone around, but he only ever gives Wylan those eyes. You'd seen it first the day Wylan has suggested pyrotechnics for one of their next play, the same day Jesper tried to pitch Rocky Horror, they were a strange match, but perfectly matched in their strangeness. You especially liked Wylan, as your partner in the sciences you spent enough time with him to know that he is so smart, the kind of smart that makes your head spin, he could be a scholarship student, but he actually is a Legacy, not that you'd know it by looking at him, or talking to him. He doesn't really talk about his family, and you never pushed, knowing he runs the tech for the drama kids and can make homemade fireworks is a decent amount of know about a person.

"Am I boring you?" Tolya asks, his voice soft.

"No," you chuckle, "but I won't lie Simon Armitage is, maybe to death."

Tolya offers you a chuckle in response. "In honesty, I would like to say there is credit in all poetry, and I think there is, something for everyone, but I am inclined to agree this is no Keats," Tolya concedes.

"Or Wordsworth, or even Larkin," you add. He smiles.

"So you do like poetry?" he asks. You frown.

"Did I leave you with the impression I didn't?" you ask. He tilts his head, and he looks so unreasonably large in that blue library seat that you bite your tongue to not giggle at it.

"I had to read your previous paper to prep," he says, "you made it sound like poetry was the lowest form of art."

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that, maybe that poem," you joke, "but not all poetry."

"So, what poems do you like?" he asks, closing the book.

"What poems do you like, I didn't take you for the type," you give that preconception willingly, hoping to dismiss it quickly, and get his true interests locked into memory in a hope to know him better.

"All muscle and no appreciation for art?" he asks. You shrug.

"I never thought you were only muscle," you say, "you've got height too."

He laughs a little too loud for the library but you're too busy smiling to care. "I like classic poetry, epic prose," he admits.

"Iliad?" you ask. He grins.

"Yeah, Homer is up there," he nods, "also The Cantos."

"Oh is that... Ezra Pound?" you check, genuinely unsure if you're right but the gleam in his eyes tells you that you are before his words do.

You sit for a while, swapping favourites and preferences and you don't hear the sound of the bell ringing, calling you to classes, you just keep listening to Tolya reciting from memory and you think you could listen to that forever.

"I hate to pull you away," comes a voice anyone would recognise. You look up and the resident Lantsov, Nikolai with his puppy grin and sparkling eyes is looking at Tolya, "but you are very late."

Tolya glances at the time, as long in you as you were in him, and gets up a little too quickly. "I lost track of time," he admits.

"I can see that," Nikolai spares you a glance, and smiles back at his friend. Nikolai is charming, charming in all the ways a politician might be without half the deceit and double the bravado. Handsome in the way that he knows he is handsome and leans on it, but doesn't rely on it solely like people as pretty as he often do. But it works for him, and you understand where it comes from. Lantsov is a Legacy student, which gets him a lot of allowances, but his older brother got expelled a few years back and he has been under a lot of pressure to not fuck up like Vasily did. So he goes the extra mile, does the extra work, head boy, and boy scout all in one, just to fix what his brother broke. The new girl Alina is hovering not far behind, Nikolai took a liking to her immediately, she looks lost in this place, she got in on a scholarship for a sport she didn't play and has been trying to juggle everything ever since. But she mostly talks about missing home, she has a boy back at her old school, a boy her heart aches at the absence of. Usually that sort of thing is a lie, but the way she talks about him, you would never doubt, you're not sure of his name, you've heard it once or twice, Hal, Mal maybe, you don't let your mind linger on the thought.

"I have to go, but I promise to meet you here tomorrow?" Tolya asks you, bringing you back to the library and out of your mind.

"I'll be here," you say. You watch the three of them walk away, the twins have been close to Nikolai as long as you've known any of them, thick as thieves and twice as protective of one another. You can admire a friendship like that.

"And the final stanza, ending with that imagery," Tolya is trying so very hard to stay on topic, but you are tapping your fingers across a very old copy of Odyssey and he knows you're trying to pull his attention away, and you know it's working.

"or six-feet-under in desert sand, but near to the knuckle, here and now, his bloody life in my bloody hands," you recite. "I know Tolya, it is ingrained in my mind I promise you."

"If you fail the next essay you won't be stuck with me anymore, you'll be failed," Tolya reminds you.

"I am very aware of my predicament," you straighten up, "fail and well fail, or succeed and be told the tutoring is effective and I must continue to spend these hours with you."

The way you tease him makes him want to forget the studying all together and just keep you in his company for longer, without explanation or reason beyond just wanting you there.

"This is such torture for you, isn't it?" He asks, not meaning a word.

"Not in the slightest," you confess. "My favourite part of the day, and not just because you bring really good snacks."

"I do," he agrees reaching to take a biscuit from the centre of the table. "Are you coming to the game?"

The question strikes you as odd, you have spent weeks with Tolya and you've discussed art and music and poetry at length, but you've avoided talking sports, you thought because he had wanted not to talk about it, but with this question you wonder if maybe you've been negligent in not asking him about that aspect of his life. If you've come across as uninterested in the athletics and dismissive because of it, and that thought fills you with an uncomfortable nervousness.

"I hadn't been planning on," you say slowly, "should I?"

"It's going to be a good game," he says, "a competitive one." You nod, trying to seem more enthusiastic than you're sure how to be about sports. "It's an important game," he admits, "and I would... like to have you there, if you want to come?"

"Are you asking me to come watch your game?" you ask, twiddling your pencil between your fingers. He smiles.

"Yeah, I kind of am," he admits, "is that okay?"

"Yeah," the blush creeps up your neck but has the respect to stay away from your cheeks, weeks alongside Tolya you've had to train yourself to blush more subtly, "I'd like that."

Genya and Nina are both fussing over Zoya in preparation for the game, Genya because she wants to be beautician and it is helpful, Nina because it's her prerogative to get involved wherever she wants to. Seeing Genya and Zoya be so friendly with one another is still a little unnerving, due to a not so friendly rumour about Genya and a teacher Genya had been the subject of a lot of hate from the girls at school. Zoya was among them. But the last year has brought everyone a lot closer, and everyone has become a lot more understanding, and Zoya with the help of Alina went around getting Mr Kirigan fired for his unprofessional behaviour, that which they could prove anyway. Genya weathered the worst of it all, and she never seemed to shake.

"Genya if you do not stop fussing me," Zoya warns her, but it's coming from a softer place than her normal warning tone. Zoya holds a lot of guilt when it comes to Genya, about not defending her, about not believing her, about not protecting her from the rumours.

Even Zoya had her fair share of rumours, the real reason as to why she doesn't date, the way her eyes linger moments too long on a pretty girl in the hallway, but again, you didn't like to put too much stock into rumours.

Genya twirls one of her red tendrils around her hand, trying to keep them off Zoya's long dark hair which she has pulled up into a ponytail. "Can I at least-,"

"No," Zoya says sternly. "David, please come get your girlfriend."

David, the reed thin brunette who rarely understands half of what is going on around him, looks up from the book he is reading, something on geology and metallurgy, to look at Genya who gives him a sweet smile, and he gives her a little wave, not having heard exactly what Zoya said. David and Genya are high school sweethearts, the type that you're not even aware you are rooting for at first, but at some point you realise the happiness of their relationship is the thing you are basing your idea of true love on.

"You're coming tonight right?" Nina asks you, throwing you a look across the room, you hadn't realised she noticed you being there, between trying to keep Genya from trying to colour Zoya's hair and Zoya from trying to kill Genya with a look.

"To the game?" Genya turns her eyes to you and they're glistening with anticipation. "I didn't realise you found your school spirit."

"I was invited," you explain.

"Yeah, by a tree with the muscles of a Saint," Nina quips giving you a wink. "I don't think it's school spirit they've found."

"Tolya?" Genya asks, tone shifting up a pitch with her eagerness.

"Don't say it like that," you say. Genya leans up on her elbows, resting her pretty face over her crossed hands.

"Like what?" she asks.

"Like," you gesture to her in her entirety, "like that, like you think you know something I don't know."

"If your truly flunking Lit, I think we all know something you don't know," Zoya says, "now can we get this show on the road, I cannot and will not be late."

"Ignore her," Nina mouths, "she's just cranky because... well because she is Zoya."

The air is brisk but you don't feel cold as you walk towards the field, you see Brekker underneath the bleachers talking with someone you don't recognise, but you pretend not to see anything.

Wylan has his arms around Jesper's neck in the back of the stands, and he looks less lost and more found. Matthias and Nina are bickering by the food queue about how acceptable sweet toppings are on savoury foods and she is too wrapped up in her fun game of wind up Matthias to see your wave, but you don't mind.

Zoya has corralled the cheerleaders and they're all pretty ready, Alina is staring trying not to get roped into anything as one of the cheerleaders in blue tries to tell her how good cheer is for the spirit.

Nikolai is trying to convince Zoya of something but you're not sure what, but you are at least sure it isn't working.

You are brought out of your people watching by feeling a presence close to your side, you turn your head and Inej is walking in stride. "Tolya is looking for you," she says, and you expect her to disappear into nothing as quickly as she appears, but she doesn't. She is a girl after all, not a ghost.

"When does the game start?" you ask.

"You have time," she assures you. She points south and you follow that guidance, and you see Tamar leaning on the gate, she is talking with some of the other players, and she looks so at home. It would be hard to believe there was a time when Tamar had to argue her way onto the team, given how much she has to offer.

Tamar gets a warning for cursing with enthusiasm and you cannot help but chuckle. If the other team wants a fight, they will definitely find one with her. You're about to ask if someone has seen Tolya when you feel the shadow casting across your shoulder.

"I'll get them back," Tamar is insisting.

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much," Tolya quotes, standing beside you. Tamar throws her brother an unamused look.

"Oscar Wilde," you say craning your neck up to look at Tolya. He looks different in his sporting kit, but his hair is still held back the same, and his arms are still exposed to the cold air, just not with rolled up sleeves this time. Looking at him makes you feel cold, and you want to ask him how he isn't.

"You're shivering," he points out.

"I am?" you ask, glancing down at your own body, "I hadn't expected it to be so cold."

"Here," Tolya reaches behind him into a bag and pulls out a jersey, it's for the team and is sporting his number on the back, he hands it to you with one hand. "So you're warm."

You take it slowly, mind racing with the many implications of such a small, kind gesture, and you don't want to jump the gun with this, with him. "Thank you," you manage, slipping the fabric over your shoulders. "I didn't even realise you had one of these."

"Everyone on the team has one," he says.

"No, a jacket," you tease, "you never wear one."

He shrugs. "I don't get cold," he explains, looking around to see how quickly he needs to make his way to the field.

"Then why did you carry it with you?" you ask. The jersey smells like Tolya, from being in his bag you'd guess, and you feel a weight in the side pocket, reaching in you find a small packet of dried mango. You let yourself smile at that.

"I've got to run," he says, "wish me luck?"

"Break a leg," you say, "or is that just something you say for theatre?"

"I'll take it," he says before joining the team.

You'd not given the sports of your school too much thought, but watching Tolya play you must admit you weren't giving the sport aspect much thought even now. You cheer for Tolya, not the game, you're watching Tolya, not the game. If anyone asked you what was happening you're not sure you'd be able to offer more than this name.

If you had any doubts about your schools victory they would have been quickly squashed by the victory cries from Tamar, all fervour and for more expletives than the coach is happy for there to be. She gets a whistle of a warning and a stern look which she just brushes off, letting her brother pull her into a hug.

You are leaning on the fence, which you hadn't noticed until now, with Tolya approaching you. The field is lower set than the stands but Tolya still feels very tall as he gets closer. You can understand why Nina described him as treelike. "Good game," you say. The warmth of his jersey on your skin feeling as secure as that embrace you watched him give Tamar, and it leaves you reaching out for him with eager thoughts and hesitant hands. You tuck them deep into your pockets- his pockets, trying not to give yourself away.

"Thank you," he says, the adrenaline in his smile is dizzying. "Thank you for coming by the way, it means a lot."

"Thank you for inviting me," you say. You want to say more, you want to find the words for this feeling, this gentle buzzing that is sparking between the two of you.

"Ask her you coward," Tamar calls from her place now sat next to Nadia, straddling the bench of a lower section of the bleachers, sharing a milkshake with her girlfriend.

Tolya laughs. "I made a bet with my sister, if we win I had to take that win, and take a risk," he says, and for someone so tall he looks so nervous. "And we won."

"You did," you nod, "quite well I think."

"Really well," he admits, laughter echoing in the spaces between the words.

"So what risk?" you ask, feeling yourself leaning onto your toes, needing to know, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

"I was wondering if you'd like to see me, outside of school hours?" he asks.

"Like now?" you ask, trying to keep the smile at bay. He tilts his head in a nod.

"Yeah, like now, but maybe more... just us," he says. You feel like you might fall down but you can't help but tease him.

"For studying?" you ask. He can tell you're playing with him.

"No," he says, "not for studying."

"Are you trying to ask me on a date Tolya?"

"I am trying."

"I would like that, I would like that a lot."

[spaceagebachelormann]

hello 🥺 i just finished shadow and bone s2 and i wanted to ask if you would write some cute fluff for a poly genya x david x reader relationship, please.

being poly with genya safin and david kostyk.

-> ft. genya safin and david kostyk

-> warnings. none!

-> mars thoughts. the two loves of my life in one request. sorry for the wait!! remember that reblogs >> likes. if you like my writing please reblog it to show your support. divider (under) by @/benkeibear

-> links. m.list || s&b m.list || navigation

oh <3 they are absolutely lovely

they both literally adore you so much

genya wakes you both up every morning, since she typically gets up around 6am and doesn’t want you sleeping in all day

meanwhile you and david just wanna lay there and sleep

genya bby will not allow it

they have very similar love languages!! but ofc there are some differences

genyas are words of affirmation, physical touch, and gift giving (both receiving ofc, genya cares about equality)

she likes to hold your hands and tell you how pretty you are and how much he loves you while giving you a little gift!! her only condition is that you do it back

meanwhile david’s love languages are physical touch, gift giving, and quality time

he likes taking you (and genya) out on walks and picnics and stuff like that where he can hold your guys hands and give y’all random stuff he finds on the ground

they are always right by you when you’re sad. like babes have a 6th sense or something cause you sniffle for a sec or show your upset in some way and those two are by your side immediately

and they’re so sweet when they comfort you!! don’t leave your side unless you need food or water, they listen intently, all the good stuff <3

and they’re super supportive of your interests btw

david hates bugs but if you like them he’d go into the woods and bring you a whole 7 story bug hotel cause he loves you that much

^^ genya doesn’t mind bugs but prefers to stay away from most of them

same for her though

IMMA COME BACK AND ADD TO THIS LATER!! i accidentally posted the draft too soon 😭

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐙𝐨𝐲𝐚

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

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

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ  

SFW🌿

⭑ At first, it was a love triangle -

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

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

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

⭑ You were confused, completely and utterly. 

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

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

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

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

⭑ Because just by being around you they felt uplifted 

⭑ So that’s why they fought for your attention

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

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

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

       “Well... I have to...”

“Who says?”

        “Everyone?”

“Fuck everyone.”

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

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

⭑ Zoya on the other hand ...

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

⭑ But no one was pushed into this relationship. 

⭑ There was no rush

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⭑ SO MUCH SASS ALL THE TIME

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

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

⭑ Power houses, because you train together - 

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

⭑ Relationship Tropes: 

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

  ✧ Touch Either One Of My Girlfriends And You Die x3

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

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

  NSFW🔞minors dni!

⭑ They both LOVE TOYS; dildos, nipple clamps etc

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

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

⭑ Have had library sex 

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

⭑ Mutual masturbation

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

⭑ Leaving marks on each other to find when getting dressed

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

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

⭑ Probably have been caught a few times\

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

⭑ Genya is a dom 

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

[mythsha]

chapter 1

Summary: Does past define someone, or perhaps what they were born as? Everyone looked at Alina Starkov as if she was the answer to all their questions. But Alina felt that Kyra Kozlov was the answer to all her problems. Kyra was a mystery, a powerful Grisha, and somehow she started to be the sun summoner's home too.

Kyra always heard whispers but for once they weren't about her presence;  the grisha had found a new topic to talk about; the hallways were flooded with talks of a summoner who could call the sun.

Kyra yet hadn't met the summoner, but felt pity for the girl knowing how pestering grisha can be if they wanted to be. Maybe that's why she opted to serve at the country's borders away from the little palace.

She had arrived at the little palace only days before the sun summoner; and though it had been only two weeks she already wanted to leave the little palace. She wasn't close with many grisha and the ones she knew were either in the front lines or in the darkling's inner circle. She kept her distance from the latter, having enough of political matters.

Usually she would be by the lake, teaching and supervising the training tidemakers or in her room sitting at her desk with piles of paper. Yes, she had declared she hated political matters but being a grisha of her rank, she had no choice but to manage the issues in the borders. Hey, at least they were far better than the atrocious things the king's advisers suggest the general.

A book was open in her lap, the words glaring at her for her attention but her focus was on touching the edges of the book lost deep in thought. She had been sitting like that for a long time since she had wandered the halls and settled in the library after dinner. The footfalls of someone and a soft hushed voice got her to glance up from the book. Turning to look she figured it was someone behind the bookshelf possibly searching for a book.

Indulging into the book again she failed to sooth the glare the words had set upon her; she got up to leave placing the book on the bookshelf where it belongs. Rounding the corner of the bookshelf she spotted the person she heard before, it was a girl and by the colour of her kefta she was an etherealki.

The girl muttered something under her breath when she couldn't reach the book on the shelf, pulling her hands down she moved away from the shelf not yet noticing Kyra standing. When the girl disappeared from Kyra's sight she moved towards the book the etherealki was  trying to reach and grabbed it with much ease spying at the cover; it was a book about ravkan folklore. Hearing a thud Kyra saw the girl again now with a stool by her feet a defeated look on her face. It took a moment for Kyra to realise what the girl must have thought, she took her book. 

Kyra smiled stepping towards the girl extending the book towards her. The girl eyed it for a moment a took it, giving a slight nod.

"Ravkan folklore?" Kyra offered to the girl who looked increasingly uncomfortable. really? ravkan folklore?

"Something wrong with it?" Dark brown eyes stared up at her. Kyra now took notice of the embroidery in the girl's kefta- Saints, this was the sun summoner. 

"No, there's nothing wrong with it. It is good book, a lot of illustrations;" pointing towards the book, " A lot of hidden meaning are expressed beautifully in the illustrations."

The girl hummed, she looked pretty relaxed now but there was a bit of stiffness in her shoulders as if she were alert for some danger. Kyra lifted her hands, as if in surrender "Relax, I'm not going to bite you;" her words ending with a chuckle, "I'm Kyra Kozlov, if you're up for introductions?" Kyra offered her hand forward.

"Alina Starkov" the girl accepted Kyra's hand, a truce of sorts to whatever was going on. Alina shrugged her shoulders, "I-I just didn't realise anyone was in the library other then me" She slightly tilted her head, smiling.

"Well I apologise then, I didn't expect anyone to be in the library at this hour either; grisha usually don't linger by the library after dinner" Kyra moved away from Alina reaching for another book on the shelf. "This one, Miss Starkov;"  She tapped at the worn cover, "Is also really good. Similar genre" 

Alina reached forward, running her fingers over the cover. "Thanks Miss Kozlov, I sure will read it" looking up at Kyra, she gently took the book from her hands. "It's alright, and Kyra is enough" Kyra's eyes followed her hands watching the gold threads by her kefta's reflect the soft light.

"Only if you call me Alina, Kyra" she shifted her arms positioning the two books more comfortable, raising her eyebrow

"Then as you wish, Alina" Kyra whispered leaning against the shelf, drawling her name.

Alina felt heat creeping up her neck at that, huffing a small laugh,"I- better get going. Good night Kyra" Alina muttered, nodding towards the library doors and kind of hurrying towards it.

"Sweet dreams then!" Kyra called after the girl. Well she met the sun summoner. Kyra's eyes moved to the window, it wasn't that late and she nothing to do. Why not have an early night as well?

chapter 2 sankta masterlist