#no beta we die like grisha

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Daughter of the Rain and Snow

Concept: Around ten years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa frees Maya Olsen from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is looking for revenge against the man who put her in her position, a man who she knows nothing about except his name: Kaz Brekker.

Tags: @wraith--2 @lunarthecorvus @just2bubbly @real-fragments7 @ethereal-maia @cartoon-clifford @origami-butterfly

If anybody else wants to be added let me know :)

Content Warnings: in more general terms I want to remind people to be aware of the nature of Kaz and Inej's experiences and relationship since even if I'm not directly addressing these things they tend to be implicit in any writing about them, but specifically to this chapter there's ptsd references and responses, murder, surgery (suture), blood and gore, violence, homelessness/rough sleeping, death, and implied sa (not explicit).

Chapter 16 - Aimee

Aimee had been at the Tulip Mill for 263 days. She had not been in the shelter for even one day. She had been hiding in the dark corners of Ketterdam for almost two days.

She hadn’t had a chance to change into other clothes before Maya dragged her from the shelter, and crouched uncomfortably in her pale orange silks and an old knitted jumper Maya had stolen and shoved quickly over her to try to keep her from the cold. Aimee didn’t understand. Maya had been so angry, Aimee had little marks on her wrist where she’d gripped her. But then she stole her a jumper.

Aimee wasn’t sure where she’d got it. Maya had made them promise to stay still and stay quiet in an alley in the Barrel before she vanished for about an hour. Princess Aimee could have formulated a plan, could have taken the opportunity to run and find her knight. To get out before she was stuck with a new monster. But Aimee was cold and frightened. She may have been Kerch, but it would buy her little favour in a city she didn’t know dressed in the silks of a girl from the Mill. Maybe they would drag her straight back - surely if Yen was gone another monster had taken up the ugly mantle. And there were other things to think about too. Like Kiada.

Kiada hadn’t spoken in 31 hours. Aimee counted them. When Maya had left them in the alley (1 and a half hours), the Zemeni girl had blinked, sat down, hugged her knees, closed her eyes. Aimee had watched her in stunned silence, no idea what to do to break her from her trance. Maya had returned at 2 1/2 hours and pressed the jumper into Aimee’s arms.

“It’s going to be cold tonight,” she said, as if it weren’t already cold, “This was the best I could get you,”

Aimee had said nothing.

“It’s going to be okay,” Maya whispered, “I promise,”

When Kiada did not move to Maya’s gentle asking, she took her hand and coaxed her to her feet. Aimee thought pain might have briefly flashed across the Fjerdan’s features, but it vanished so quickly she could have imagined it. Kiada let Maya lead her onwards as though she’d barely noticed they were walking. There was nothing else for Aimee to do. She followed.

She was regretting that now.

Maya had found them somewhere to hide in the dark, in a burnt out corner under a bridge, and then revealed that she’d also stolen a surgical needle and black thread. Aimee and Kiada had sat against the wall, watching as Maya removed her shirt from beneath her vest, so her arms and the bloody wound were exposed. She threaded the needle with deft agility, then dug it quickly into her flesh - Aimee supposed so she wouldn’t have time to think about it. It was nothing any of them hadn’t seen before, Aimee suspected both Maya and Kiada had done it themselves at least twice, but it still made Aimee wince to see it. She’d never done it herself - an older girl would always seem to find their way to her when she needed it done - and when her own cuts had been sewn she’d averted her eyes from the process, usually biting into a piece of ripped fabric the girls would give her. Maya clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, but she made no sound. Aimee stared, fixated, at the blood and the throbbing and the shimmer of the needle. Kiada looked blankly at the air, as though she could not see anything at all. 3 hours.

When Maya was finished, she wrapped the needle in her torn, bloody shirt and threw it into the canal. Aimee’s head hurt. Kiada leant against the wall, eyes flickering like she might be asleep.

By hour 10, Maya was angry again. By hour 12 she was crying - she thought that Aimee and Kiada were asleep. Kiada might have been, but Aimee wasn’t sure. By hour 15, Maya had seen Aimee stir and wanted to check if she was okay. She found some strip of fabric Aimee barely registered the shape of and wrapped it over the younger girl’s shoulders. Even though Aimee didn’t think she was safe, she knew that she was cold and tired and confused, and so she let Maya hold her through the makeshift blanket and whisper soft things as she closed her eyes. She didn’t sleep for long; when she did her dreams swam with her princess and her knight. But it was wrong. Off they went on their daring adventures, and everything was normal, then it all came to a sudden stop and a dark drop and Aimee awoke with cold sweat burning on her forehead.

She sat up slowly, breaths shaking, the world coming slowly into focus. Kiada was curled over herself, face shielded from the very beginnings of daylight, and Maya sat a little beyond her.

“What time is it?” Aimee had whispered, as though speaking any louder would be akin to breaking something.

“A little after 5 bells,” murmured Maya, “Try to stay rested if you can. We have a lot to do,”

“Maya what’s going on?”

“Be quiet,”

Maya got to her feet and brushed off her trousers. Her arms were bare since she’d shed her shirt and left her torso only covered by a knitted vest, and Aimee could see the thick black stitches near her collar bone. She shivered.

Maya was erratic - even more so than she’d been last night. Aimee tried to entertain thoughts of a plan, of an exit, of a way back to the shelter. But she was coming up short. She didn’t really know where the shelter was, or where they were now for that matter, and she couldn’t think of any way of safely bringing Kiada with her. She’d tried to get the girl’s attention and she’d flinched away, arms thrown over her ears as she flung her head deeper into her lap.

“We need to move,” said Maya, “I have a little money, we might be able to find somewhere real to stay,”

Aimee didn’t ask why that hadn’t been an option last night. She wondered if Maya had stolen the money, or if it was from the man who she’d said paid her for information. Aimee hadn’t understood everything she’d heard in the shelter, but she was piecing it together. She climbed slowly to her feet, the air cold on her half-bare legs as the makeshift blanket fell away. Her skin prickled and she rubbed her hands along the sleeves of her jumper. Kiada hadn’t moved.

Maya seemed to lean forward to place a hand on the Zemeni girl’s shoulder, then think better of it and pull away.

“Kiada? Come on, we have to go,”

Kiada blinked.

“Kiada,”

Aimee tensed.

“Kiada,” demanded Maya again

When there was still no response, Maya’s questionable patience snapped. She was shouting again and Aimee felt her feet anchor in place as though they weighed a thousand pounds. Maya yelled something that turned to buzzing in Aimee’s ears, and suddenly she’d grabbed Kiada by the hair and forced her closer. Kiada cried out in pain as her braids were almost ripped from her scalp, thrashing to try and break free of Maya’s grasp.

Princess Aimee would do something. She would help. She was strong.

On Day 126 at the Tulip Mill, Aimee had witnessed her first death. She’d lost before, grieved and mourned; but she had not seen the moment itself until Peony, a scrap of a 15-year-old you wouldn’t have thought was older than Aimee, had released a near-painfully loud screech of a scream from the room next door. When there was no rushing of footsteps along the hallway after a minute had passed, Aimee summoned enough courage to creep out of her room and slip inside the next. Peony had stood in the centre of the room, staring blankly at her blood-soaked hands. The man on the floor was shaking violently.

Aimee had later learned that the man had scared Peony so badly that she’d screamed and plunged a knife straight through his stomach. No-one knew more detail than that. No-one knew where Peony had got the dagger. There were ceaseless whispered rumours, passed between walls and partly open doorways.

It was his knife, she’d heard one girl guess, brought it with him so he could gut her when he was done. Can’t blame her for getting in first.

She kept it in her mattress, and was planning on killing Yen with it.

She’d killed clients before; this was just the first time she got caught.

She was deranged.

He was deranged.

He wanted to slice her into neat little pieces and rearrange her like a jigsaw puzzle.

But that all came later. In that moment, on day 126, two girls had locked eyes over a nearly dead body. The man’s blood had gurgled and it made Aimee feel sick, but she could not draw away. Peony sighed, when he died, as if she were glad it was finally over. She looked at Aimee, her eyes feverish and wild and frightened - and protective.

“Hide,” she’d whispered, and Aimee had.

She’d bolted into her room and sat with her back against the closed door; listening. She heard footsteps and shouting and someone screaming again. But she did not leave her room. She heard new voices, authoritative voices she realised with a harsh crack must be Stadwatch. That they would come here, would arrest Peony but not Yen, that they would see everything that happened in this building and not blink an eye until they took one of those poor, pretty girls away killed a tiny little something inside of Aimee. That, she thought looking back on it, was the second death she witnessed.

From her window, Aimee had watched them drag Peony away. And for a second, a barely imperceptible movement as the girl looked up at the Mill, Aimee thought their eyes might have locked again.

The older girls said Peony would swing. No-one ever confirmed it.

Maya dropped Kiada’s hair and let her fall against the pavement. Aimee did not want to hide. She wanted to be brave and strong and she wanted to be able to save herself. She wanted to be able to rescue Kiada. She wanted her body to be as strong as her mind, but it was not. She wanted her actions to be as fierce as her will but they weren’t. More than anything, she wanted to go home. She couldn’t.

Princess Aimee would intervene. She would protect Kiada, find a way to fight the monster with her mind. She was strong. She was fierce. She could argue; stand up for her beliefs. She could. She could. She would.

Aimee opened her mouth, but her voice did not exist.

[thera-daydreams]

SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

series masterlist & synopsis • thera's masterlist

chapter three.

▪︎ reflection ▪︎

You are confronted by a certain Shadow Summoner about your motives in bringing the kids to the Little Palace. He realizes that you've loved and lost so deeply, eerily the same as he had. Perhaps that's the reason why he was so drawn to you; he could see his reflection in your eyes. But the more answers the Darkling got, the more questions he had. Unfortunately for you, Aleksander was a patient and persistent man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

warnings: grief, implied depression, mentions of the many tragedies of wanda maximoff, the darkling is getting very suspicious and that's not a good sign for you, no beta we die like wanda

word count: 4.8k

(author's note: so we see his vulnerable side and scheming side all in one chapter, lol.)

The fallen leaves had a crisp crunch to them today.

As you go about your duties in the garden, you hear familiar footsteps approaching. When you look up, you see the Darkling making his way towards you, the ever-present regal air about him.

“Good morning, moi soverenyi,” you greet, placing the packet of seedlings down on the grass. Moonflowers, he notices the labels on them.

He stops a few paces away from you, his gaze fixing on you, the sharpness in them never fading. “A word, Miss Maximoff?”

You blink, slowly standing. He seemed much more serious today. Not that he wasn’t, usually, but you felt a… change in his approach to you. General Kirigan glances around the garden, his expression almost cautious for a moment. Then, he motions for you to join him as he strides towards a more secluded corner of the garden; an area that's shielded from view by a large flower bed. He stops beside a stone bench beneath a tree, motioning for you to sit. Once you're seated on the stone bench, he remains standing for a moment, his back to you as if he's contemplating something. Then, he turns and takes a seat beside you.

It was quite tempting to read his mind right now since he seemed to be thinking so hard.

The General glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his gaze almost watchful as he seems to consider his words. The silence stretches on for a few moments, the only sounds coming from the garden around you - birds chirping, a light breeze rustling the leaves in the trees.

“I heard something about you,” he reveals. Your eyes widen slightly, somewhat alarmed. What did he say?

“Pardon me, General?” You very nearly stammered. Kirigan looks at you, his gaze meeting yours directly.

“You were not entirely truthful about why you became a gardener here in my palace.” He regards you with a knowing look.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow, sir—”

“Katyusha, Dmitri, and Henrik. Familiar names?”

The color almost drains from your face. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze never wavering. There's a slight hint of curiosity in his expression, almost as if he's trying to decipher something about you.

“... No, moi soverenyi,” you lie. But you were awful at it sometimes, for a powerful witch.

“Is that so?” He hums, sounding in disbelief. “But I heard from the boys themselves you actually brought them to the Little Palace. Not a traveling hunting group, as indicated in their papers. And sweet Katyusha appears to miss her… mama.”

You close your eyes, calming your beating heart. Did he talk to the kids himself? Were they questioned? Shit. It would be very hard for anyone to lie to the Black General, more so children under ten! Kirigan watches you intently, his eyes studying your features.

“I’m sorry, General—” He holds a hand up to cut you off.

“None of that. My only question is why?” He asks suddenly, his voice low. “Why did you do that? Help not one, not two, but three young Grisha orphans?”

I frown at his incredulous tone. It was terrible that it was a world where acts of kindness to Grisha were so unbelievable. “They deserve to be cared for properly as Grisha, sir. They were very young when they exhibited their abilities, especially Katyusha as a Heartrender.”

The General nods slowly, processing what you've said. His gaze was mixed with something that almost looked like respect. He's silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next words. “And... how did you know they were Grisha, at such a young age? Usually, the Grisha testers—amplifiers are needed.”

“I took them under my care from the streets for a year, sir. And with how… powerful they seemed to be at their age, it was a bit obvious,” you mutter. The Shadow Summoner raises an eyebrow at your response.

“Obvious?” There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“With Katyusha's temper tantrums added to her separation anxiety when she was so young… and her being Heartrender... you can imagine.” You sighed, rubbing your face. “The boys were already using their powers by the time I took them in, sir. Probably because they often had to be on the run to survive.”

The Black General frowned. He knew what that felt like, centuries ago. He hated the fact that even until now, with Grisha of the new generation, it was still the same problem.

You look at him, swallowing a little nervously. “General Kirigan, I... will confess. I did apply for the gardener position here at the Little Palace to… mainly to see them every once in a while. If there is a punishment for this, I am more than willing to—”

He shakes his head, stopping you. “You care about them. All three of these children."

“Of course! They are still children, Grisha or not,” you interject. He senses the protectiveness in your voice. “They deserve to have a chance at a good life!”

The Darkling observes as you get a little riled up. He looks as if he's considering something, his expression almost contemplative, as if he's weighing his next words carefully. “And... you, Miss Maximoff... are not Grisha, are you?”

You shake your head. That was one truth you did not need to change, thankfully.

“Your care for them is quite remarkable, Miss Maximoff. Especially since you're not Grisha,” he remarks curiously.

“My care for them should not be remarkable. It is human decency,” you huff indignantly. A spark appears in his dark eyes at the sight. “I did not want them to be persecuted by the villagers who don't know any better... just because they are Grisha. That's why I brought them here. Some people are just… heartless.” You exhale.

Kirigan nods, fingers tracing the smooth stone of the bench you two were sitting on. “Many Grisha are feared and hunted, even as children. They are perceived as... unnatural. Monstrous.” His eyes darkened momentarily, unpleasant memories running through his mind. “It was noble for an otkazat'sya like you to personally bring them to the Little Palace.”

The General tilts his head slightly, watching you silently. There's that curiosity again in his gaze, as if he's contemplating something, trying to figure out something... you.

“You’re not like other otkazat'sya, are you, Miss Maximoff? At his words, you do your best not to freeze like a deer in headlights.

“... What do you mean, sir?” Your voice was measured. Controlled. Neutral. The lying was never the easy part of all your secrets, huh?

Kirigan leans closer to you now, his gaze focused intently on your face. He's studying your features as if he's searching for something. “I've met many otkazat'sya in my life. But... you're different. There's something about you. Something I can't quite place…”

Mother of all saints, he was onto you. Though, he did not know much about it yet, thankfully. Still, you weren’t doing anything illegal in Ravka. So why was it so disconcerting?

He tilts his head. There was something about you that seemed so very familiar. “Miss Maximoff, have… we met before?”

That made you pause. No. Never, as far as you could recall. You shake your head. “Not that I remember, General.”

“Well, Miss Maximoff, do you disagree with my observation? Do you not believe there is something different about you?” You honestly had no idea how to respond to that.

“I don’t know, sir…”

He looks at you, his gaze steady; intense. There’s a look in his eyes that seems almost... expectant. It’s as if he’s waiting for another answer. Or an explanation. What could you say?

“I can easily have you taken away for questioning if you’re lying, you know,” he prods, his voice casual; a hint of humor in his tone. “I could also have you executed, if you like. Possibly for insubordination.” It was as if he were discussing the weather and not the idea of ordering someone’s death.

“... You could, yes,” you murmur calmly. Too calmly.

“But it seems like you’re not afraid of death, Miss Maximoff.” Kirigan was impressed. Perhaps he should retrieve Ivan or Fedyor to see if you were truly unafraid as you appeared to be. Another reason why you seemed to be such an intriguing otkazat’sya.

At his remark, you chuckle. The Darkling looks at you, his gaze now more intrigued than before. There’s a hint of fascination in his eyes, as if he’s trying to figure out what makes you fearless in the face of mortality. “How peculiar. Why not?”

“I guess you could say it's an old friend,” you reply vaguely. His expression turns slightly puzzled at your response.

“An old… friend?” he mutters. You nod.

“Explain.” A deep frown had curved his lips down. He did not understand.

“Is that an order, moi soverenyi?”

He looks at you, his gaze unwavering. “No. It’s not an order. It’s a… request, Wanda.” His voice was slightly softer than before. And it was the first time he used your first name.

“Hmm... death is…” You look up at the fluffy clouds in the sky, trying to word your response. Kirigan looks at you, his gaze intent, listening closely as he awaits your response. “... Like a friend, always there. Always waiting... patient, silent. It bides its time until it’s your time.”

He was silent, almost considering your words.

As you fiddle with your fingers, you add quietly, “When you've lost enough people in your life, you'll realize that... death may not be something to fear. It's almost... peaceful, the finality of it. That all of the suffering and pain is gone.”

Unbeknownst to you, the words struck a chord in the Black Heretic himself. There’s something in your words that resonates with him. 

“You have a unique understanding of death, Wanda,” he mused.

“Do I, moi soverenyi?”

“You do. Most people fear death, but you seem accepting of it. You talk as if it’s a comfort to you.”

“And if it is?”

Kirigan watches you closely, noticing the tiny smile on your lips as you gaze downwards at the grass at your feet. There’s a moment of silence as he studies your expression, trying to understand the depth of your acceptance of death.

“Powerful Grisha age slower... don't they?” you asked suddenly.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he confirms. “Powerful Grisha live longer than ordinary humans. But why do you ask?”

“You're perhaps the most powerful one right now. So it stands to reason that you must be much older than you look, General.” You pointed out, an inquisitive look in your eyes.

The Darkling looks at you, a hint of surprise crossing his face at your observation. He grows a bit more guarded, and there’s a hint of something else now in his eyes—a slight wariness at the thought that you’ve managed to deduce something about him.

“You have a keen eye,” he says curtly.

“Just been reading at the library,” you murmured, before adding. “When the Apparat is not around. Although servants aren’t prohibited to go there—as far as I can recall from the rules—I prefer to read in peace.”

Kirigan looks at you, an almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. From your answer, it sounds like you’ve just been casually reading about Grisha and their powers. “You’ve been studying... Grisha in the library?”

“I wanted to know more... especially for Katyusha, Dmitri, and Henrik,” you share honestly. “To understand who and what they are even more.”

At your answer, the Darkling feels a strange tug on his heart… and his lips.

“If you're older than you look because of your powers... I'm sure you have some thoughts regarding death as well.” You rest your elbows on your knees, leaning forward as you sit on the bench. “Perhaps you disagree with me. About it being an old friend.”

The dark-haired general doesn’t respond immediately, but something in his eyes suggests you may have hit a nerve. His expression remains solemn and contemplative for a moment before he speaks again. 

“I don’t disagree,” he mutters, his voice soft but slightly distant. “But death… is not something I have accepted.”

Wistfulness washed over his stony facade, like he was contemplating something far beyond the conversation you’re having now. “I am not immune to death, even as a powerful Shadow Summoner. It is inevitable, unfortunately. But... I do not accept it so easily. I am not yet ready to embrace the finality of it all.”

“I can understand why,” you whisper, meeting his eyes for a moment. He appears surprised, his eyes searching your face for a moment, as if he’s trying to see something deeper within you. There’s a touch of vulnerability in his gaze now; a glimmer of what he’s keeping hidden.

“What makes you say that?” he clarifies hesitantly. You tilt your head at him. Even without you reading his mind, you were certain about his motives. It was clear from everything that you’ve read about the current history of Grisha and Ravka and the Black General.

“You are the Black General. An infamous Shadow Summoner. The leader of all Grisha. I figure that you dislike the finality of death because there is still much you wish to do... to accomplish,” you remarked after a few seconds of scanning his features. “And I have a feeling it's for your people, the Grisha. Or for Ravka…”

General Kirigan looks at you, faint astonishment and... could that be admiration in his eyes? He seems almost taken aback by your astute observation. 

Little did you know how accurate your words were.

For a moment, he stands in silence, his expression thoughtful. Finally, he responds, his voice soft.

“You are too perceptive, Wanda.” He mutters, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Too good at reading people.”

You could read minds, too, but you haven’t done that since you sent those Grisha slavers away from you and the children months ago. The general did not need to know that, though. Not ever, you hope.

You laugh softly as the two of you sit on the stone bench in the garden, the gentle breeze rustling the leaves and plants, leaving a fragrant, fresh scent in the air.

“My apologies, then, moi soverenyi.”

“No need to apologize,” he assures you, shaking his head with a slight smile. “In this palace full of fools, it’s refreshing to talk to someone with a modicum of sense.”

“You shouldn’t call your people fools, sir.” A small giggle escapes your lips. He finds himself drawn to the sound.

General Kirigan looks at you, an amused expression on his face at your playful scolding. He pretends to be affronted by your comment but there’s mischief in his eyes.

“Am I not allowed to criticize my own Grisha?” he hums, a hint of a smile on his lips.

You smile at him. It made your usually gloomy demeanor brighten the same way it did when he spotted you with those Grisha children days ago.

He likes seeing you smile, he finds.

“Well, I'm an otkazat'sya. I don't think I have a valid opinion on that.” You gaze at the nearby flower bed.

He shakes his head slightly, a soft breath of amusement leaving his lips.

“Ah, but your opinion is welcome nonetheless,” he mutters, his voice a touch fond. You return the tiny smile he shows, before he asks. "Why... may I ask, have you accepted the finality of death?"

You somber down at his words, the smile fading. “I do not have many goals or aspirations left in life, sir. I guess the only one I have now is seeing Katyusha, Henrik, and Dmitri happy and thriving as growing Grisha.”

He examines you, his expression becoming more serious as he notices the subdued tone in your voice. The hint of a smile on his face slowly fades away, and he gazes at you, his eyes gently studying your features.

“Your only aspiration is seeing the children thrive as Grisha?” Was there concern in his voice? Maybe you imagined it. You nod.

“You... don’t have aspirations of your own?”

“... No. Not anymore, at least,” you whisper.

He studies your face, as if he’s trying to see the depths of your soul. “If you have no aspirations, then you have nothing to live for,” he comments solemnly.

“But... the children will grow up. They will be grown Grisha, capable of taking care of themselves someday. What then?”

“Then…” You focus on your dirty garden gloves. “I'm more than content to be with my old friend.”

Death, he remembers. And the relentless Darkling didn’t realize that a part of his cold, broken heart could still break. He searches your face for any sign of jest or insincerity. When he finds none, something strange passes through his eyes—something he doesn’t want to admit, even to himself.

“You... you would truly accept death so easily?”

This time, the smile you gave was nothing near joyful.

He shakes his head, “You are strange, Miss Maximoff.”

Silence grows between us for a minute. Then, he breaks it.

“You said you’ve lost enough people in your life… who, if it’s alright for me to ask?”

Everyone, you think. But one person always stood out. Vision. “... My late husband. Amongst… many other people.”

He can sense the pain and sorrow in your words, and he gives a soft, quiet hum in response.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” His voice was low and gentle as he offered his condolences.

At his words, you smile a bit. Genuinely. “Thank you, moi soverenyi.” You scoff a little, amused. “You're... actually the first person to say that.”

The general���s eyes widened.

“Am I really?” Disbelief coated his voice. “No one else has said it to you?”

“I grieved his death alone,” you whisper. “I did not exactly have… a body… to bury. So there was no funeral.” Realizing the weight of your own words, memories of creating the Hex to cope with your loss ran through your mind.

You don’t notice him staring at your forlorn expression, mirrored in his face. His heart seems to tighten at the thought of you having mourned your husband alone, with no one to comfort or reassure you.

“You... you mourned his death alone. No one was there to comfort or reassure you during those dark times?” Kirigan was stunned. You inhale sharply.

“... No.”

Unbeknownst to you, he knows exactly what it's like to grieve alone.

Only the rustling of leaves and chirping of birds could be heard in the garden.

Unable to help himself, he finally speaks up in a low voice. “You did not deserve that.”

Your head snaps to him, a questioning look in your glassy eyes. Both of you make eye contact for what seems like forever as you await his next words.

“You… you did not deserve to go through such grief, alone. No one should have to endure that burden alone,” he murmured.

You smile sadly, fingers fidgeting. “I was ten when my parents died. But I had my twin brother, Pietro…” The mention of the name on your lips stings your eyes. “We were practically inseparable after… the incident.” The bombings of Sokovia which left you and so many orphaned.

General Kirigan waits for you patiently, not interrupting what you wanted—needed to say out loud.

“And when Pietro died… it was like this wave washing over me again and again. Knocking me down. When I try to stand up… it just comes for me again." Unconsciously, your hand comes up to rest on your chest, where your heart was. "I… thought I was drowning every time I breathed.”

Kirigan watches, jaw clenched at how you described your grief.

You paused, a melancholic smile appearing on your face. “But my husband was there to comfort me. Not yet as my love, but as a loyal friend.”

His features soften as he sees the sadness in your smile. “Your brother was there when your parents passed... and your husband, even before you loved him, was there after your brother was gone,” he echoes.

“But when my husband passed…” You laughed humorlessly.

“Where were your friends?”

You shook your head. “... It's complicated. It was a... tough time for me and my... friends.” The Blip reunited many loved ones. Good for them. “I cannot blame them for not being there.”

“Not even one of them?”

You ponder sadly. “Natasha would have been there, I think. If...”

The Darkling has a questioning look on his face at the new name. “Natasha.”

“A mentor of mine. Also my best friend,” you smile fondly, then shake your head. “But she died around the same time, too.” On Vormir for the Soul Stone to revive the snapped other half of your universe.

The Soul Stone for your best friend and the Mind Stone for the love of your life. How tragic.

General Kirigan was left speechless. How many people you loved did you exactly lose? You seemed so young. But it was as if you could more than fully grasp the depth of solitude he had experienced. And he was centuries old.

The Black Heretic himself.

“Did... you have any children with your husband, if I may ask?”

“Twin boys, just like my brother and I. Billy and Tommy.” There was a sparkle in your eyes as you remembered them. Kirigan takes in your smile at the mention of your twin sons. He listens quietly as you whisper their names, as if you've thought about them for a long, long time.

Suddenly, you shake your head and stand, finding the conversation a bit too much. “I—I’m sorry, General. This must all be too overly personal. I'm oversharing—”

He shakes his head, motioning for you to sit back down on the stone bench beside him. “No, no. It’s fine. And besides, you look like you need someone to talk to, Wanda.”

“...”

And should that be the general and the head of the palace you were currently working in? It was quite embarrassing that you were venting out to this man.

Sighing, you sit, chuckling. “... You must be wondering where they are if I'm here living at the Little Palace, spending all my days gardening.”

His brows raised, but he had a feeling he knew the answer to that question, too.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around it. My boys are… in a better place now,” you whisper.

The man senses the heaviness of your words; the weight of your grief. Obsidian eyes swirled with emotion, as if he can relate to your pain in a way that few can understand.

“Is that why you're so resigned to death, should it come?” he asks quietly, his tone low and gentle. "Have you been alone for so long, Wanda?"

You give him a sad smile, “Perhaps it is simply my fate.”

The Darkling himself had mixed feelings about fate. He was old, so very old, and yet, a part of him still held onto the hope that maybe the Sun Summoner—his balance and other half—was true. But this fate of eternal solitude that you spoke of… he did not want to believe it at all.

“And yet, despite all that you have lost, you still chose to care for and bring those three children here to the Little Palace,” Kirigan noted.

You look down on your hands. “They were never mine.”

Many people told you the same thing with Vision, Billy, and Tommy. Not yours. Not real.

He can tell that he's just on the cusp of understanding something about you, a hidden depth to your character. There's a strange pull to you, some indefinable quality that's drawing him to you more and more.

“You're stronger than some Grisha I know,” he says, true admiration in his voice. His eyes linger on the jar you're holding, watching as the snail moves slowly inside the glass jar. “You’ve endured solitude, grief, and loss more than once, and yet you continue to live, to breathe… to love.”

You meet his gaze. It feels like you were being beckoned by the intensity of his inky eyes.

But before you could respond, you two hear the crunching of grass and rocks, someone approaching you. Quickly, you stand from where you were seated beside the General, placing a more respectable distance between you both right as one of his oprichniki comes into view.

General Kirigan turns to look at the approaching guard, a slight frown on his face. He eyes the soldier that has come to see him, a slight annoyance evident in his gaze. As soon as you move away from him, and he notices the distance you've put between you and him, his frown deepens even more and a flicker of something almost… possessive passes through his eyes.

“What is it?” His eyes narrowed.

The oprichniki spoke, bowing. "Moi soverenyi, your carriage to Ryevost is ready.”

He nods, sighing exasperatedly at the soldier's words. He glances at you for a moment, then back at the soldier.

“Very well, I’ll be there in a moment. Go wait at the gates,” Kirigan commands. The soldier bows once more and quickly turns and leaves, leaving you and the General alone once again.

“... Thank you, General. For listening,” you say before he could leave. Said man looks at you, the frown on his face slowly fading. He studies you for a moment, his eyes roaming over your face. It’s clear that he’s still somewhat annoyed by the soldier interrupting your time together, but he tries to hide it from you.

“Apologies, but duty calls." There’s a hint of something… almost satisfied in his gaze, as if he’s pleased by the realization that you’re not such strangers anymore.

His gardener was even more of a fascinating person beneath all the layers.

“Safe travels, moi soverenyi.” You bow. You don’t see the slight smile curving his lips upward as you do.

“Until we meet again, Wanda.”

ᱬᗢᱬ

As the General rides in his carriage to Ryevost, his thoughts continue to circle back to you. He thinks about every little thing you said, everything you did, every expression on your face and movement of your body. He’s unable to shake you from his thoughts, running his fingers idly across the top of the leather seat of the carriage.

What an enigma.

An otkazat’sya woman who willingly brought three Grisha orphans to the Little Palace out of her own volition? And even applying as a gardener to covertly watch over them?

You must be truly dedicated to those kids.

His brows furrowed as he remembers once more that when those two boys—Henrik and Dmitri—had admitted that you were the one to personally escort them. Alone. You guys did not accompany a traveling hunting group, as they initially mentioned all those months ago.

“Fedyor, those three children I spoke to earlier this week,” he starts, turning the man inside the coach with him. The Heartrender listened attentively.

“Ah, the boys who are so attached to little Katyusha?” Fedyor smiles. He’s met the very young girl before, amazed that her being a Heartrender manifested at such an age.

“Where did they say they traveled from again?” the general asks.

“Hmmm… I believe it was a little town somewhere in Tsibeya, sir. They traveled on foot for days to get to the Little Palace,” the Heartrender replied, unaware of the General's growing concern. “Brave little ones.”

Aleksander’s eyes turn to the view outside his carriage, thinking deeply.

Tsibeya was so close to the Fjerdan border. And you were out there alone. In the cold. With three Grisha children. The boys didn’t mention either if there was anyone else accompanying your group in your journey into Os Alta. Only that the traveling hunting group was a lie.

A few months ago, too, Fjerda had sent a fresh batch of drüskelle past the Ravkan borders. He remembers it quite clearly, given the number of casualties in his northern regiments during that time.

It would have been very unlikely for your small group to have survived had you encountered a drüskelle in your trip. Moreover, it should have been likelier that you and the children would have encountered one whilst traversing Tsibeya.

The children were not clearly Grisha yet without their keftas and all, he supposes, but the drüskelle still could have attacked any Ravkan—Grisha or not. He’d also seen that Henrik and Dmitri were already somewhat well-versed with their powers so young. If a drüskelle, say, saw a young Inferni lighting a fire to keep his group warm in the cold…

Something was not adding up.

Plus, there were a couple of units of Grisha assigned in those areas. Surely, your group could have passed any of them. You could have chosen to hand over the kids to them, too—it would have been safer if they were protected by the Second Army soldiers, right? The children would have had Grisha escorts bringing them to the Little Palace.

But no, his mysterious little gardener did it all by herself. 

And not a single hair was harmed on the children’s heads even after such a long, dangerous journey.

He scoffs to himself. They were even more unharmed than the armed, trained soldiers he sends to the north.

The more he knew about you, the more questions Aleksander was having. But he had to be patient. This conversation would have to wait until after his stay in Ryevost.

Unfortunately for you, Aleksander was an incredibly patient man with centuries of experience.

He would get his answers from you soon enough.

next chapter

Reblogs, comments, and interactions are welcome here! 💖🙏

What do you think about Sasha here getting even more sus of you, hmm? Will Scarlet Witch-in-hiding be able to hide from the Darkling? 🤭

taglist: @idohknow

[wesper-ao3feed]

Do You Know The Problem With Saints? They Always End Up Dead.

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/XtDHk4P by Obsessed_Book_Lover467 When I was young, I was afraid of the dark. When I got older, I learned darkness was a place, and it’s full of monsters. I live in East Ravka, but I’ve never been welcome here because I look like my mother, and she looked like the enemy. Written Version of the Shadow and Bone TV show because Leigh Baridugo said the show was like a high-quality fanfic so it should be written like one. Words: 2409, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Genya Safin, Zoya Nazyalensky, David Kostyk, Tamar Kir-Bataar, Tolya Yul-Bataar, Nikolai Lantsov, Nina Zenik, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, David Kostyk/Genya Safin, Mal Oretsev & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Zoya Nazyalensky, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov & Alina Starkov, Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Zoya Nazyalensky & Genya Safin & Alina Starkov Additional Tags: Warnings May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Angst, Rewrite, writing the shadow and bone TV as a fanfic because I can, Has beta reader because we don't want to die like David, Writing Exercise read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/XtDHk4P

[ao3feed-eremin]

On the Other Side

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/RlVCqsu

by Cooch_Demon

Words: 1333, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Multi

Characters: Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman, Eren Yeager, Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Reiner Braun, Sasha Blouse, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss, Ymir of the 104th (Shingeki no Kyojin), Bertolt Hoover, Hange Zoë, 104th Training Corps Ensemble (Shingeki no Kyojin), pretty much all the titan shifters, yes unfortunatey zeke aswell

Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager, Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Ymir Fritz/Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert

Additional Tags: Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Titan Shifters (Shingeki no Kyojin), Fluff and Angst, Blood and Injury, Titan shifters as a species, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cultural Differences, Eren Yeager Needs a Hug, Armin Arlert Needs a Hug, Mutual Pining, Everyone Is Gay, POV Third Person, Eren Yeager is Bad at Feelings, Armin Arlert Has PTSD, Titan Eren Yeager, Eren Yeager is From Outside the Walls, no beta we die like marco, The Survey Corps | Scout Regiment (Shingeki no Kyojin), Reiner Braun Acting as Eren Yeager's Parental Figure, Grisha Yeager's Bad Parenting, Minor Gabi Braun/Falco Grice, Armin Arlert is a Little Shit, Minor Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein, as a treat

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/RlVCqsu

[klaroline-overdose]

New trashy Klaroline and Darklina AU crossover fanfiction drop

So here's the thing, since Shadow and Bone premiered on Netflix I got a little obsessed with all the Klaroline and Darklina parallels.

It got into the point that I even started a crossover crack fanfic Klaroline X Darklina.

I wrote this for my personal scenarios and fun, so I won't be posting on fanfiction.net or AO3. I've never read the grisha books and I completely ignore the originals show existence and its characters, except for Davina and Marcel ofc.

It's not beta proofed, but it's 21k long and i don't know if I ever will be able to finish it due to work.

THAT BEING SAID, I think it's a hilarious old tvd Klaus x Caroline fic and the interactions with Alina x Darkling are just pure gold so that's why I'm sharing with you. Here's the link for reading it. Don't take it serious, it's purely for entertainment.

Tldr: Bonnie uses a crazy spell to stop Mikael and it causes Klaus and Caroline to be taken to the grishaverse.

@howeverlongs Paula my love I tried really hard to finish it and because of your support as usual I'm putting it here. Hope you have fun 💗

If you guys have any problems with the link let me know!

[myshadowsandmybones]

TO KNOW YOU’RE NOT ALONE

After the ending of Ruin and Rising, Alina loses her summoning abilities and goes on to live her perfectly ordinary life with Mal and their children in Keramzin, leaving the Grisha world in the hands of her friends. Time passes and while her loved ones start to shown signs of it, wrinkles decorating their faces, grey painting their temples, Alina remained the same, perfect porcelain, frozen.

And time kept passing, and passing. Until it didn't, and Alina opened her eyes to face a world she knew dead for centuries.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

P.S. I suck at summaries and tagging.

Good day everybody!

You have found yourself a girl with a keyboard and the courage of anonymity. I have no clue where this journey will take us, as I am doing this mainly for myself. If you choose to join, I do hope you will enjoy the ride.

The end notes will be used for additional information or disclaimers.

All the best,

O

Prologue

Chapter  1

[six-magnitude-girl]

The Dawn of the New Ackerman

Summary: Countess Dina Yeager neé Fritz married Duke Kevan Ackerman and it might not be the worst thing ever.

Chapter: 1/5

Tags: Pseudo-Incest, Alternate Universe - Medieval Fantasy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Found Family, Possessive Behavior, Eventual Explicit Smut, Mildly Dubious Consent, no beta we die like Kuchel, this is what happens when you write with Goblet of Fire playing on loop, this is off the mark tbh, my self indulgent saccharine concoction

A/N: This fanfic is inspired by Tywin Lannister/Joanna Lannister from Game Of Thrones and Patrick Zala/Lenore Zala from Mobile Suit: Gundam SEED.  

Note: Italics are either inner thoughts or dream sequences.

***

Eren Yeager reeks of death as he blankly stares at the two caskets before him.  Hollowed out cheeks, chapped lips,  purple-reddish under the eye as if he hasn't slept or eaten in many moons. His gaunt figure was stuffed in all ill-fitted black garb. He looks like life has been sucked out of him. The only thing indicating that he was still alive is his dull green eyes, shining in the sea of black clothes and white flowers. But even his only sign of life contained something unbecoming of a nine-year-old boy. 

The way everyone looked at the two remaining Yeagers is astonishing. One with compassion and the other with rejection and derision. After all, it was widely known that it was only because of Countess Dina's grace that Eren was even allowed to attend his father and older half-brother's funeral.

The funeral attendees all sympathized with Countess Yeager, her kindness and pitiful state were well spread. 

"How could such misfortune befell the Countess?" Their eyes roam to Eren when talking about the Countess. 

"Truly a devil's child." is what they called Eren. His face remained blank despite being at a funeral for his family members who raised and loved him despite his questionable birth.

"I am telling you, this is proof that it's the goddess's will to drown bastards instead of raising those ingrates." 

Eren tries to think of any love shown by both Zeke and Grisha but his mind comes blank. Does Zeke calling him a little brother in private only to treat him badly when they are in front of their father count? Does Grisha stopping Zeke from beating him bloody count? He couldn't think of any good memory… but he still felt heartless all the same because he couldn't muster even a single tear for the last of his blood.

Eren wonders if they knew that he could hear what they're saying. I suppose that was the point, isn't it? he thought. 

Oddly enough, despite having a disturbing amount of rage running through his veins, he couldn't muster the energy to even feel annoyed. He just felt empty inside.

Before someone dies, it was said that everything would go really slow and you'll be granted a moment of complete clarity before passing. 

That clarity came for Eren when he thought how pointless it is to get angry at them as they are only being true to their nature, cruel and oppressive to the people they think are below them. Eren knew early on that all nobles have a brand of cruelty in them. It was their birthright he learned. So imagine Eren's surprise when his stepmother Dina, still didn't kick him out on the streets or leave him out to fend for himself months after the mourning period. 

When he thought hard enough, Dina's angel-like image around the circle flashed through Eren's mind, and was once again blown away just how appearances and their reputation are everything to these nobles. 

When Grisha and Zeke died, Dina followed the will to the tee, the instruction for her to take care of Eren till he's of age and let him manage the Yeager estate. Manage what exactly? Eren thought. Their gold mines dried up a long time ago, Dina doesn't know the first thing about business and even though women can now do business to some extent, they still aren't exactly advertised to do so. The logical thing for her to do to maintain her lifestyle is to remarry and so she did. 

Dina instructed him to pack his things because they are now going to live in the Ackerman mansion since she and Duke Kevan Ackerman are going to get married. 

The Ackerman estate was so big that it even had a forest with a stream running through it. Eren was blown away and he felt more nervous than he wanted to because he knows for a fact that even among all the noble ranks, the only one above the Ackerman ducal house would be the Reiss Royal family of The New Eldian Empire. 

"Be sure to get along with your new father and older sister, okay?" Eren continued to observe his surroundings and nodded without looking at Dina. If the Countess felt annoyed with him, she didn't say anything as she continued to tell him all that he needed to know about the Ackermans. He listened intently even though he acted as if he didn't. 

Eren knew it wasn't good manners to give nonverbal replies to direct questions but he didn't care. He hasn't spoken since the funeral, he hasn't spoken much anyway even before. 

As Eren continued to listen about the great Ackerman Dukedom, he thought that they must be even more arrogant and nasty than the other nobles. Eren inwardly shudders as a montage of the worst-case scenario plays inside his head. After all, he's just a powerless kid who can't even protect himself so if keeping his head down and taking the beating gives him a fighting chance, he'll take it. He knows he doesn't have many options if he wants to rise to the top and be able to live as he wants. 

"My name is Dina Fritz." Her smile was as bright as the sunflowers that decorates the bonnet that she was wearing. It makes Eren inwardly gag at the saccharine fakeness of it all. 

When his father and older brother were still alive, life wasn't perfect but there was a sense of realness where they didn't have to pretend in front of each other. They knew for a fact that Grisha was a nutjob who constantly pressured and pitied his heir, Zeke against his much younger illegitimate child, Eren. 

Zeke Yeager, despite having the softest heart in the Yeager family surprises everyone with his brutal but effective mindset; maybe it was because of his softness that he still wanted his father's approval even after everything. 

Dina Yeager just sits there and turns a blind eye to Grisha's mistreatment of Zeke. Truth be told, Eren hated Dina more than Grisha. Because in his mind, the one who neglects and turns a blind eye to the abuse is worse than the abuser. If Dina gets a sadistic satisfaction of his perils at the hands of his father, he'll hate it but ultimately understand. After all, Eren was not her son. Nobody loves or ever loved him, nobody cares about him except maybe Zeke to some extent... whatever that was left of him that wasn't set on getting their father's approval. 

"This is my son, Eren. He's younger than you so please take care of him." 

Unlike Dina's fake smile and Kevan's polite smile, Mikasa Ackerman didn't smile nor made any effort to match anyone's energy of forced excitement. She looked different than what Eren expected, it wasn't just because of her mixed heritage, she was only fourteen but she's the very picture of beauty, grace, and composure. She's wearing a simple light gray dress with her silky dark tresses falling on her back. You can tell with the way she carries herself, how effortless it is for her. It was something she was born with. 

Mikasa solemnly bowed to her new family members to show respect. Eren found that more reassuring than any smiles anyone could offer him at the moment. 

***

Contrary to his grim expectations, things weren't so bad. Kevan is away on business a lot and Dina always comes with him. Eren and Mikasa are left alone most of the time as their parents were never home. 

Even if Eren's new life wasn't the hell that he expected, he still felt anxious. His demons still come and go as it pleases, it visits him like an old friend who couldn't take the hint that he's finally outgrown them. He retreated in silence because he doesn't want to speak of what happened to his late father and brother. It's not like anyone would ever ask him. It was swept under the rug like all things. Even in private he doesn't like thinking about it because it's like he's breathing life back into them but it didn't matter because even beyond the grave they still haunt him. 

Eren still gets nightmares about their deaths. He reminds himself that he could have ended up like his birth mother who is six feet under the ground, buried in a nameless grave, forgotten. But he didn't. He's alive. 

He walks in on them in the forest. 

Grisha is standing not far from Zeke who is slumped on the ground. His father was immediately on to him when he took a step back. "It didn't work on your brother, Eren." There's a crazed look in his eyes that has him backing away even further. 

"I've always known that he was weak. But not you…" by the time he held out a sharp contraction on his hands, Eren was sprinting away. 

"Give me your arm, Eren!" Grisha was chasing him. 

"You've gone crazy!" 

"I'm not crazy! Don't you ever say that!" 

Eren knows that it's a dream but he cannot snap out of it. His legs felt heavy and it was like he was breathing underwater. 

Everything plays the same way as it does. Eren fights but they are still dead and everything is closing in on him. 

He's losing either way. Why must he be forced to relive this?

"–Ren" It was a firm but gentle voice. 

"Eren" 

When Eren's bloodshot eyes snapped open, he was screaming and swinging his fists at some invisible enemy. Mikasa was hovering over him to snap him out of it. 

"Eren, wake up." Some of it landed on her arms but she ignored the pain to engulf Eren in an embrace to stop him from potentially hurting himself. 

"It's Mikasa" Eren eventually stopped screaming and flailing his arms. His body went limp as Mikasa cradles him because even though it's not unwelcome, its warmth is unfamiliar to him. His head rested on her chest listening to her heartbeat. He was drenched with his sweat and is still breathing heavily but he has finally gotten back to his senses. 

"It's a dream." Mikasa wipes a tear that fell out of Eren's right eye. Eren didn't even notice that he was crying because he was too busy trying to breathe. 

When he gets nightmares in the past, a servant who would awaken from his screams would just shake him until he's awake and leave him to pick himself up alone. That was the norm for him, that's the only thing he has ever experienced. He didn't like anyone's presence anyway but Mikasa's steady heartbeat and scent calmed him down. Concentrating on the clear beats of her heart, he closed his eyes again. 

When Mikasa felt Eren's heartbeat steadying she tried to get some water for him but Eren suddenly snapped his eyes open and felt like screaming again with the thought of her leaving. He tried to speak but only rasped noises came out. His throat felt so dry that the air coming from his mouth felt like setting his lungs on fire. 

"You need to drink water, Eren." His grip on her nightgown tightened. "I won't leave." She held him tighter to reassure him. 

Her voice was gentle and patient. "I just need to get your water on the table." Eren peaked at the table from her embrace and slowly let her go. 

His room was illuminated slightly by Mikasa's candle at the table. She handed Eren a glass of water that helped to soothe his sore throat. She ran soothing circles at his back when he coughed up some of the water.

"I'm sor-sorry…" Eren never felt so embarrassed in his whole life. Besides sounding like a frog trying to speak, not only did he disturb her sleep, he hurt her… Clung to her like a newborn babe and now he can't even drink water on his own. 

Mikasa only shook her head at him as if to say that it was no big deal "Don't be." and brushed his hair away from his forehead to prevent sweat from coming to contact with his eye. 

"I get them too." 

That was the end of that. Mikasa could tell that Eren was embarrassed so she never mentioned or asked about his night terrors. 

But something changed after that night. Mikasa now takes the initiative to come to Eren's room with a mug of warm milk. They still don't know what to say to each other whenever she delivers his nightcap. 

"Do you like it?" Eren nodded. The warmth of the drink bringing some color to his cheeks as his eyes peek out behind the mug is enough for Mikasa. She wordlessly leaves a glass of water at his table before she retires to bed. 

Eren doesn't thank her and he pretends not to notice how she sometimes goes to his room in the dead of the night to check on him. Neither does he admit to himself that it makes him sleep better at night. 

***

Even though they always eat together, they always eat in silence, until now. "Is there something wrong with the food?" 

"...they are okay." Eren scrambles to think about what he did wrong. Did he eat too much? Was he too eager? Did he use the wrong knife? 

He felt uneasy with Mikasa's eyes on him and ate the vegetable on his plate by mistake. He can't spit it out so he tried not to gag while chewing it.  

"You don't like vegetables." It was an observation that wasn't meant to berate or belittle him. Eren knows that but nobody has ever commented on his eating habits unless to criticize him so he still felt uneasy. Evenso, he still felt ashamed. He felt like Mikasa just found some sort of fatal flaw or disability in him. 

"Do you want to go out on a picnic with me tomorrow?" Mikasa's voice snapped him out of his spiral towards self-loathing and shame. Eren was dumbfounded by the sudden change of topic. Is she really asking for his opinion? Usually, people just decide for him. He didn't know what to do with this newfound privilege of choice that Mikasa was giving him. Before Eren can calculate Mikasa's ulterior motive, he finds himself nodding.

"Do you have any friends you want to invite with us?" He shook his head and prayed for her not to figure out that he has no friends… Eren doesn't want to look like a loser in front of Mikasa. 

"Just the two of us then." He doesn't understand why he felt so relieved hearing that it would be just the two of them. 

***

There are two maids, a footman, and a driver escorting them. They are underneath a big tree at the top of a hill, overlooking a field of flowers. After setting things up, Mikasa waves the escorts off with a generous amount of coins for them to enjoy the whole afternoon to themselves. 

Eren allows himself to observe and enjoy the scenery. 

It was a perfect day for a picnic. It's windy and Eren watches as the fluffy white clouds in the sky move and changes their shape. Aside from the blue mountains, there's an assortment of flowers surrounding them. It's the most beautiful place he's ever seen. 

Eren turned to Mikasa. She's sitting on the right side of the blanket. All the food was placed on a table with short legs so it was only slightly elevated but not unreachable. Mikasa takes out a box of matches to light the ten little candles in a round chocolate cake. Her eyes slightly curled when she looked up to offer him a small smile. 

"Happy 10th Birthday, Eren." Judging by Mikasa's smile, Eren knew that she knew that he had forgotten about his own birthday. It wasn't his fault. Again, he was unsure how to react. 

Eren can only numbly sit on the left side and helplessly blow out the candles at  Mikasa's urging. Negative feelings are swirling deep inside of him. He looked at all the food and it was all of his favorites.

Nobody, dead or alive, knows about his food preference. Nobody cares about his birth date… so how did she know? 

Mikasa was saying something but Eren couldn't hear her. His eyes widened when he saw her reaching for a serrated knife. 

Before he could even stop himself, the birthday boy grabbed the older girl's wrist. "How did you know?" he inwardly winced at the accusatory tone that his voice carried. "...about the fo-food or my birthday?" Eren knows that Mikasa doesn't deserve anything less than his best behavior around her but he is always near hysterical on the inside with the way she treats him. She has never done anything wrong and that's the problem from Eren's perspective. How is he supposed to treat her? 

If Mikasa was surprised or offended by his tone, she never showed and calmly answered him. "The food was a gamble. I noticed how you eat more when they are at the table. Your birthday… I asked Dina all about you when we had tea before father married her." 

Why would you go that far for someone like me? is the only thought running through Eren's mind.  

"Eren, what's wrong?" Mikasa tried to touch Eren with her other hand but he caught it with his other one albeit more gently. Eren wasn't angry, frustrated, or in pain so he didn't know how to react. He should be relieved but it only riddled him with anxiety. Before Mikasa, he had never known kindness, gentleness, or anything close to those feelings. 

Everything that comes to mind when Eren thinks to describe Mikasa is a foreign concept to him. It's not real, or at least not someone like him is allowed to have. He liked his life now. So much… that it pains his chest and burns into the remaining pieces of his soul.

Eren felt an ice-cold rush of panic when he realized how tightly he's been holding onto Mikasa's wrists. "I'm sorry..." he slowly lets go of her wrists. 

Why can't he stop hurting her? Eren inwardly beats himself up remembering how he hurt her when he was thrashing because of a nightmare and how he's done it again. 

Eren hugged his knees and bowed his head. "My mother was a maid who died giving birth to me. Nobody has ever celebrated my birthday… ever." Eren knows it wasn't an excuse for the way he treated her or much of an apology but he wanted her to understand. He wanted her to know that he never meant to hurt her. Ever. She has to know that he never meant to hurt her. 

Mikasa interrupts Eren from alternating between guilt and self-loathing for being vulnerable. "I have always wanted a sibling." he blinked at the revelation. She tucked her knees and rested her head in them, facing him. 

"My mother died giving birth to me too and as you've observed my father was always away on business." she paused for a bit and continued. "So I have always been alone." 

Is that why you get nightmares too? He wanted to ask but he kept his mouth shut which urged her to continue. 

"Of course, there are servants around and I can easily befriend them if I insist but I found out early on, on several occasions that it only brings unnecessary troubles." Mikasa grimaced, remembering her pathetic attempts before she gave up. 

Maids either want to climb her father's bed, actively spy to sell information, or simply use her for her wealth. It doesn't sound so bad for Mikasa but she wanted something real, as naive and nonexistent as it may be.

"The friends that I seek are as rare as a love match." she tried to put it lightly, "And I don't think I can ever really quite fit in with the ladies in high society." but the loneliness was deeply felt. 

Nevertheless, she remained perfect in his eyes. The respect that he felt for her increased because she was strong enough to admit what others try so hard to hide.

Eren remembered Dina and her friends –vultures as he calls them in his mind– that frequented the Yeager estate. "I can see that. You are different from them." Mikasa was not sure how to reply. 

"In a good way!" he waved his hands around trying to think of ways to convince her but came empty "Different but in a good way," Eren added hastily because he was truly complimenting her but was afraid of getting misunderstood. 

Mikasa patted Eren's head to reassure him. "Thank you but I don't think I am much different, Eren." She sat up straight and stretched her legs. "I am just like everyone else. For one thing, I like beautiful things." Eren couldn't keep his eyes off Mikasa as she lovingly gestured at the field of flowers and closed her eyes to feel the gentle breeze on her face. 

She opened her almond eyes with a new resolve in them. "Protection and safety for me and my family are also important to me." It was the most important thing for her. 

"Tea parties are a great way to establish trust and connection. That's one of the reasons why everyone gets so caught up with appearances. One discord or wrong word out of your mouth can ruin an entire household. Loyal servants also have families to feed." Eren has never thought of it that way but listening to Mikasa puts things into perspective. 

That's why she's different. Eren can agree with her statement to some extent but he doesn't think most nobles have the same mindset as her. Most are just animals that wear human skins as a disguise. 

Mikasa noticed Eren's struggle to comfort her so she tried to lighten up the mood. "That's the reason why I was excited about your arrival!" 

Eren tried to remember the day they met and thought out loud. "I never would have guessed with the expression you were wearing." and she welcomed that change in him, no matter how small. 

"How could I act excited when you just got out of mourning?" Mikasa explained herself. How could anyone greet someone so cheerfully who just got out of mourning?  It's only been a year since Grisha and Zeke died. 

Eren was once again blown away by Mikasa's thoughtfulness. He has always felt as if he had no right to even grieve having lost his father and brother. They never had the best relationship and he wasn't even sure what that looks like but they were blood. Not one soul but Mikasa recognized his grief.

"I know it's selfish but I just thought since you arrived that I never have to be alone again… at least not for a while." In his eyes, she was anything but selfish. 

Eren and Mikasa shared a moment when they looked into each other's eyes. It was a moment where they truly understood each other more than the strange circumstance that they found themselves in. They won't need to be alone anymore. 

For the first time in forever, Eren felt content. He realized that with the way things went down, this is the best thing that could have happened to him.

Not long after, Mikasa eagerly asked him to eat some sort of a round-wrapped sandwich first. "I assisted in making it myself." Eren warily unwrapped it and despite his hesitation, took a generous bite. His expressive green eyes lightened up when he tasted it. 

Mikasa felt satisfied seeing him happily eating it then dropped a bomb on him. "There are at least four vegetables in that sandwich." 

"What?!" Eren was shocked. What kind of sorcery is this? Mikasa nodded to reaffirm the fact and smiled. 

"I know that you only eat meat and that vegetables can be unpalatable at times but your body needs them to grow healthy and strong." Eren felt offended and dodged her attempts to pat his head again. 

"I am not a kid! Don't treat me like a child! You are only older than me by five years!" Eren quickly covered his mouth to stop himself from ruining things but to his relief, Mikasa only chuckled which made his cheeks pink. He was annoyed because Mikasa treats him like a child when she is a child herself but liked the light atmosphere between them. 

"I haven't given you a gift yet. Is there anything you want?" his eyes widened. He gets a gift too?! "You don't need to. This is more than enough!" 

Mikasa thinks of the things that her little brother may want and smiles indulgently. "But I want to." 

"I can't think of anything." A total lie. 

Celebrating his birthday with just the two of them is enough. 

"Alright then, you need to tell me when you think of anything and I'll get it for you to the best of my abilities." He wants her to promise to always celebrate his birthday with him. Eren still didn't say anything and just nodded. Even though the levity between them didn't disappear, there's a certain stone weighing on his heart because of his inability to communicate what he wanted. 

“How about your dreams?” she got his attention back on her. “Do you have any dreams for the future?” 

There is no hesitation on Eren's part this time. “I want to be powerful. I want to win and get what I want.” If Mikasa found his answer strange, she didn’t say anything and only contemplated for a bit. 

“If that’s what you want then I’ll help you.” She told him that one way to ensure prestige is to excel in the academy that all nobles are required to attend so he needs to have a head start in his education. 

Mikasa asked him if he was okay with her being in charge of his education or if he wanted her to hire a tutor. 

Eren is elated that someone is taking his dreams seriously and is even actively helping him but was then plagued with his deep-rooted insecurities. "Is that even possible considering the circumstances of my birth?" 

Mikasa is not a liar to assuage him of his worries because it wasn't entirely unfounded but she ached the same because he sounded so vulnerable so she let him in on something she wasn't entirely comfortable touching on. "You are born into this world. A man. With work, you can almost have anything that you want. It's not a guarantee but you have more leeway and chances than most have." It would be years until Eren can finally understand what Mikasa meant, “I’ll help you, Eren. I’m with you, every step of the way.” nonetheless he believed her when she said she'd help him and goddess help her, she did. 

Mikasa helped Eren get everything his heart ever desired and more. 

***

Mikasa found out that Eren doesn't possess a natural-born talent like her or her cousin, Levi, instead he is focused and has a sheer will and determination once he decides to commit to something. She greatly admires his consistent effort and grit in his studies. Even with her natural talent, not even she can display such dedication towards it. It was displayed most especially when it was time for their history lesson. It was Mikasa’s favorite subject so it pains her to see just how bored Eren was with it. 

“What do you have against history?” Eren shrugged. 

“I am not questioning its inclusion in our lessons. I know self-important nobles-” Eren corrected himself “-people won’t want anyone to forget their achievements so I am going to memorize it all but don’t expect me to understand why people read stuff like this for entertainment.” and Mikasa took that as a challenge.

Later that evening, “What are you doing here?” Mikasa's presence isn't unwelcomed but he's generally puzzled. 

“I am going to read you a bedtime story.” Eren’s first reaction is to yell that he wasn’t a kid and she should stop treating him as one but Eren saw the history book they were studying earlier and sighed. Eren decided to indulge her because she’s surprisingly stubborn and he doesn’t think he can win against her. 

Mikasa sat on Eren’s bed and motioned for him to get comfortable since it was going to be a long bedtime story. 

It was an eye-opening experience for both of them. Mikasa never knew how fun it was to talk to someone about her interests and Eren didn’t hate it because she told him stories from the past in a way that wasn’t boring. He doesn’t want to admit it but he wants more. 

Mikasa surprised him by asking questions and it felt strange to him that he just knew the answers like the back of his hand. Eren rolled his eyes at Mikasa when she smiled triumphantly at him. 

This was the first of countless nights Mikasa spends in Eren’s bed telling him stories of the past, inadvertently curing his crippling nightmares. Instead of white flowers stained in blood, he now dreams of giants and the heroes that saved the world. 

***

"Do you want me to get you a magic tutor and a swordmaster to continue your training?" Mikasa asked Eren while they were having their afternoon tea. He was doing so well with his studies that she was forced to increase the difficulty as months went by.

It was perfect timing because the person she had in mind to be Eren's swordmaster finally wrote back. 

"How did you know?" Eren and Mikasa spend most of their time together now. It brought them so much joy that they didn’t know a human being is possible to feel. The feeling of belonging and acceptance that they make each other feel is intoxicating that they forget what their life was like before meeting each other. "Right… Dina." Eren answered his own question. 

When Mikasa first talked to Dina about Eren, she realized early on that she'll most likely be in charge of practically raising him and she'll be damned if she leaves him out to dry like how everyone did as she was growing up. 

There is unspoken transparency between them that builds up the mutual trust they have for one another. But one thing Mikasa wasn't willing to divulge is how Eren's stepmother can barely tell her anything about him. It wasn't a big problem for her as she resorted to other means to get the information that she wanted. Visiting her uncle Kenny and his lover, Uri at the underworld was more than enough to know everything about Eren Yeager. Remembering how Eren was before he had fully adjusted, she's so glad that she did.

*** 

"Let's just hope Crazy Mage doesn't get you killed when they get their hands on you." this is the only thing Levi said to Eren after assessing his abilities. 

Levi Ackerman was a distant relative of Mikasa but Eren noticed how they are alike in more ways than Mikasa ever was to Kevan and he was relieved to have another person like her around. The only condition Levi has for teaching Eren the art of the sword is for him to cease any sort of magic training until he deems him ready. 

Eren's lessons with Levi take up most of his time now. Aside from their meals together, he doesn't get to spend much time with Mikasa anymore. 

Privately, Eren was saddened but had this resolve in his heart to better himself. At night, aside from their bedtime story ritual, Mikasa attends to his injuries because Eren refuses to let anyone touch him. It was a curious thing how the two of them don't acknowledge how Mikasa was Eren's exception.

As Mikasa gently rubs a generous amount of cream on Eren's calluses, his eyes are shining with excitement telling her all about his lessons with Levi. "I just don't understand how he can spin like that!" 

The young boy paused and looked up to Mikasa, lowering his voice. "He must be lying and using some sort of magic because humans don't move like that!" 

Mikasa couldn't stop herself anymore and fully laughed now. 

"The Ackermans are mostly, if not fully magic resistant." Magic doesn't work on the Ackermans but they also can't use magic. She reminded Eren of their bloodline quirk and he groaned but he didn't sulk that long because Eren always liked the adrenaline in his veins. 

"I'll beat him someday!" Eren vowed revenge. 

"I know a way for you to be able to land a hit on Levi." Mikasa's eyes twinkled because she liked getting the rise out of Levi.

Eren was so eager earlier but now felt reluctant when he noticed where they were heading. It is known that the Ackermans are the only people allowed inside their infamous tower. 

When he voiced his concerns, that made Mikasa pause to reiterate how her father adopted him and that he's an Ackerman now. "Tell me immediately if someone dares to tell you otherwise." Eren was a bit annoyed by Mikasa's protectiveness of him but it reassured him of his place. 

The infamous Astronomy Tower with its stained glass ceiling is the tallest in the Ackerman estate. It has an upper and lower dome. The lower dome has several rooms but is mostly a huge library with unlabeled leather books and the upper dome houses a telescope. 

When Mikasa took out a music box and the music played in the background, that's when he started having doubts. "Are you sure about this?" He knows she only intended to help but Eren really couldn't comprehend how learning how to dance would make him better at fighting. 

"Most people don't know this but–" Eren could see where this was going and he interrupted Mikasa. 

"Are you sure I am allowed to know Ackerman's family secrets?" he said jokingly but mostly because he was skeptical. 

Mikasa's leveled stare stopped him from talking. "-Levi is a phenomenal dancer and he moves just as fluidly and gracefully as he does in and out of combat. This isn't a sure way of winning against him but if you want a shot at winning, learning the flow and applying it to your combat skills is the way to go." 

Despite Eren's skepticism, Mikasa is the person he trusts the most so he follows her to the center of the room. Eren stared up at Mikasa, resolute that someday he'll grow bigger and taller than her even if it's the last thing he does. His complex was all forgotten when she asked for his hand. 

Eren was annoyed at how he was now reduced to a blushing maiden in front of her. He took her hand instead and she lightly pulled him closer to her.

Eren pursed his lips and looked up at her. "Why are you on your tiptoes?" Standing face to face, their height difference is already so emphasized and it annoys him so much. At fourteen, Mikasa is taller than the average female and stands at 171 cm while Eren at ten years of age is 1 cm.

"It's easier to move when you are on your toes." Mikasa sighed at Eren's constant scrutinization. She dropped his hand. "Go stand in the corner first and let me give you an idea of how the dance will go."

Eren raised an eyebrow at that. "Without a partner?" 

"I'll act as if I have a partner." Mikasa on her tiptoes positioned her hands as if she had an invisible partner. 

Eren's jaw dropped when she started. Mikasa spins at a breakneck speed. He couldn't even tell her how her nightgown is riding up and exposing her bare legs with tongue-tied he is. He could only stare at her as she spins in reverse around the room back to her initial position at the center. Don't even get him started with the body tilts and the leaping, Eren legitimately thought Mikasa was flying. 

If anyone were to attempt what Mikasa did, they'll probably only look stupid. But not her… She looked beautiful. 

"Follow my lead." Eren would never admit how thankful he was that Mikasa slowed things down for him as she was teaching him. 

"Don't be afraid, I won't fall." Mikasa smiled because she can tell that Eren was concerned that she'll get hurt if he fails to support her weight. What she didn't tell him is how she's holding her own weight instead of resting everything on him as it should because she doesn't want to bruise his pride. He's young so, understandably, he won't be able to but Eren is a breed of crazy persistence that insists on subjecting himself to these ridiculously high standards. 

Neither slept until the early signs of dawn but it was worth it because after a week of dance lessons… 

"I managed to land a hit on him!" There's a blooming bruise on Eren's head and his arm is bleeding but it didn't take away the shine in his eyes as he joyfully recounted the story to Mikasa who was attending to his wounds. Since his arm is injured they decided to take a break from their dance lesson and just continue to talk on the terrace underneath the stars. 

Both of them turned to each other when they saw a shooting star. "What did you wish for?" Mikasa asked. 

Eren realized as the star-filled sky as his witness that he's happy and if things continue to stay the way they are that he has nothing more to wish for. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to stay that way. 

***

The Ackermans have always been a powerful ducal family with a long history. 

Despite having connections, beauty, talent, resources, and everything one could want; they often have tragic ends. It's said to be the price they had to pay for letting the royal family experiment on them to obtain their infamous magic resistance. 

The tragedy is like an Ackerman trademark at this point. The members of the Ackerman clan are known to often fixate or obsess about a specific thing or person that they'll do whatever it takes to obtain it and cut down anyone who stands in their way. 

A single-minded devotion that each family member shared. Depending on who you ask, it was seen as a birthright, curse, or mental defect because of the family’s inbreeding to maintain their bloodline in the earlier generations. 

That’s the reason why Kevan Ackerman married a princess from a far east country with the sole purpose of providing an heir for duty. Because just like Kenny, he never wanted the ducal seat. 

The Duke of diamonds is Kevan Ackerman's moniker. He has an obsession with them and personally supervises the mining. He has an uncanny talent and luck with everything that has something to do with diamonds. Diamonds are everything to him, they defined him and will be his legacy. He doesn't have any room in his heart for anyone or anything else. 

Mikasa found that out when she was nine years old. She was on her way to the kitchen for some water when she passed her father's study.

“Don’t cha' think you should take it easy with your diggin?” Kevan only replied with a faint laugh that somehow only made the pit in Mikasa’s stomach who was eavesdropping fall even deeper. “I am serious. At this rate, yo’ gonna be buried alive. Don’t want sweet Mika to be orphaned like little Levi.” Even though Kenny is supposed to be in exile with the deposed king, Uri Reiss, he still visits his old home to check on things when time allows it. 

“Us Ackermans must go where we want to go and die where we must.” The little girl that loves unconditionally tried to understand where her father was coming from but only the truth remained that she was all alone in this cruel world. 

Mikasa now prepares a pitcher of water by her bedside before going to sleep. She doesn't want to overhear conversations again that manage to lower her already low expectations. 

As she lay in bed, she set aside her feelings to think about it and it all suddenly made sense to Mikasa. 

That stormy night, she went up to the Astronomy Tower to check on those journals again.

It wasn't just the Ackermans being born privileged to have the best of everything that sets them apart from the other noble families. 

Usually, with power comes great responsibility, but contrary to that, their privilege allows them to be free. Free to pursue whatever it is that they want. They weren't pressured to fill in societal expectations, they were raised to look after themselves. 

The only thing that the family requires is for them to write about their life. 

At nine years old, Mikasa has already read every single journal stored inside the Astronomy Tower. There must be hundreds of them… She was mostly left unsupervised and was privy to every single detail of her great but fallen family members. 

In the Titan Age, centuries ago, the last Ackerman knight: Henry Ackerman who has the undying knightly faith to serve the Reiss royal family only to be betrayed by them which resulted in having his immediate family members hunted and killed. 

The Iceburst Age's Luxana Ackerman who has an obsession with reaching the clouds in the sky, only to plummet to her death on the cold hard ground with the flying machine that she spent her whole life making. 

To Kuchel Ackerman, who was engaged and gave nothing but love to Marley's crown prince but the said prince chose to marry another woman from a baron family. If that wasn’t enough, framed her for a crime she didn’t commit to justify jilting her. It didn’t matter that their schemes were obviously disproven or how Kuchel was already pregnant with the crown prince’s child. He refused to take responsibility or acknowledge Levi as his son. Kuchel Ackerman still spent her whole life in disgrace. People reduced her to this whore, as some caricature of a villainess and shunned by high society until her death when Levi was only six years old.   

How many more of them should fall until the next one learns their lesson? 

Even though it gave Mikasa a strong sense of justice, she learned from those journals that a good heart doesn’t give you a pass for a happy ending. Good or bad, the world is equally still cruel. Even then, she is resolved to live a peaceful and happy life away from high society.

Every noble child in their kingdom is required to attend The New Eldian Empire Academy once they turn fifteen. Attending the academy is crucial as it also serves as a noble's debut in society. Most engagements, alliances, and animosities alike are most likely built within those four years inside the academy walls. 

Mikasa felt more at ease with her decision now that Levi is around to hold the fort. The future of house Ackerman is already secured with her little brother, Eren. So she has nothing to worry about anymore and she can do whatever it is that she pleases. 

Of course, there's this option for Mikasa to attend and just keep to herself but with her position, she doesn't think it's possible. 

Everyone is dying to get their hands on the Ackerman dukedom. 

Mikasa could get a fiancee who preferably doesn't want the duke's seat which is very unlikely or someone she can dump after she graduates to get the target off her back. The problem with that is one wrong judgment of character from her, and she could endanger both Eren and Levi who also has the right to inherit the duke's seat. Mikasa doesn't like how high the odds are of her setting a conspiracy in motion. That's why she'll do whatever it takes to escape those four years. 

That's where Mikasa thought of the Church Of Ymir. It wasn't a popular choice for nobles because its study mostly focuses on healing and theology. Founder Ymir's grudge against King Karl I still remains to this day, which is why her temple only caters to women. Signing up means you'll need to study and serve for nine whole years without going out of the temple. You can send and receive letters but it wasn't as luxurious as studying in the Academy and by the time your nine years are up, you'll be considered an old maid. So the small percentage of women who chose the temple over the Academy almost always wanted to be a full-time priestesses. Mikasa didn't want that. She just wanted the most diplomatic way to evade and avoid playing anyone's game. 

***

"Nosy brat." Mikasa smiled seeing Levi's face souring upon seeing her face.

"I wish I could have seen your face when he landed a hit on you." he only glared at her before handing her a small box with a bow on it. 

"You're fifteen, gloomy brat." A moment of heavy silence passed between them. 

"Thank you, Levi." Mikasa offered a small but sincere smile at him. 

"Are you sure about the temple?" Despite the family not being his priority, Levi cared deeply for Mikasa. She was the closest thing that he has to a little sister. 

"Have you already told him?" In the short few months that he has known Eren, Levi doesn't think he'll take the separation easy with how attached they were to each other. 

Still getting no answer from her, he goes for the jugular. "He's going to lose it. That brat has anger issues." 

"Look who's talking. Are you sure you're not projecting?" she tried to deflect but he didn't take the bait and continued to wait for her answer. 

Mikasa dismissed the thought of Eren's face when they first met. "He's still young, he'll meet more people and get over it." 

Levi only sipped on his tea to stop himself from further commenting. 

"I wish I could see Eren's reaction when he meets his magic tutor." she knows she'd be long gone by the time he revisits his magical studies. 

"You're going to take care of Eren, right? He's still young so someone needs to nudge him in the right direction." it wasn't Mikasa's intention to imply anything but Levi gave her a resigned wistful smile. 

"Yes, I'll even take him with me when… I travel to meet my… friends." She laughed at that. 

He mumbled troublesome brats before shooing her away but not before she went for his weakness "Give Hanji my regards!" Levi glared at her and she scrambled out of the door, lightly giggling at successfully getting a rise out of her cousin. 

***

Eren was vibrating with excitement as he ran up to their spot at the hill with Mikasa closely following behind him. "Hurry up!" Mikasa only smiled exasperatedly but finds herself moving faster at his cajoling. 

It was Mikasa's fifteenth birthday and they'll be spending it on their spot together. Eren's current excitement was quite a contrast with how he was when he first climbed the hill with Mikasa.  

When they first celebrated Eren's tenth birthday, he was determined to return the favor but immediately felt letdown when he found out that her birthday had already passed. She's quick to reassure him that they'll have more birthdays to celebrate together in the future and he liked how that sounded so he shut his mouth. He started scribbling on parchment because he was already planning Mikasa's birthday next year. 

They are already setting things up on their spot underneath their tree. Levi, after giving Mikasa her birthday gift, went out to meet his friends who happened to be in town for some ale. Kevan and Dina were not home as expected but it was alright, their absence was even welcomed as they were happy with just the two of them. 

They were on the carriage on their way home when Mikasa remembered that he forgot to tell Eren about her impending departure. He was sound asleep with his head resting on her lap. She didn't want to put a damper on the day that he planned for her. 

She helplessly stroked his brown hair while thinking of a way to break the news to him. Mikasa speculated in her mind that perhaps it was more for her than for him. She didn't want to break the news yet as if that would somehow delay everything. 

***

"What about…" me? The feeling of everything closing in on him is back. "–our studies?" He felt like Mikasa was talking in another language. 

Mikasa walked slowly towards him as if approaching a wounded animal but he only backed away. "Levi will handle your education until it's time for you to go to the academy." She tried catching his eyes to no avail. "He might be small but he's actually better than me so you'll be okay." It was an attempt to lighten up the mood but it did nothing. She didn't attempt that and remained silent as Eren tried to absorb the news.  

After a long silence, "You'll visit once a year during breaks?" Mikasa winced at Eren's hopeful tone. 

Her throat felt dry and her mouth refused to let him down once more so she only shook her head. 

His nostrils flared and his head jerked up to look at her directly. "Why not?" he got better at masking his emotions but she could tell that behind his question there is this underlying anger and frustration. 

Eren unblinkingly listens to Mikasa's explanation. 

"Nine years?" He suddenly has the urge to break every single thing he can get his hands on but most of all he wanted to beg her to stay.

Thoughts of thrashing anything he can get his hands on were dismissed when Mikasa holds both of his hands because even though he's grieving, he doesn't want to hurt her. 

"I'll write to you every week." She squeezed his hands and tried to crouch down to catch his eyes but he stubbornly refused to look at her. 

"I won't write ba-back." he snapped back. 

Mikasa bit her lip but shook her head to shake off the feeling of rejection. "That's okay… I'll still write to you." 

Mikasa is set to leave in a week. They still do their routines together but there is this tension. 

Eren refused to speak once more, clinging to his silence like a security blanket. 

Even Levi could see the strained atmosphere between Eren and Mikasa. "Quit being a brat. If your sister gets married someday, are you not going to talk to her anymore?" 

Yes. Eren didn't answer and continued to strike at Levi but the older man had enough and hit him at the solar plexus using the back of his sword. Eren backed away and violently coughed. 

"You are an Ackerman now and Ackermans don't do regrets." Eren is an Ackerman now but how could he live without regrets when he doesn't even want to live anymore with the thought of Mikasa being gone?

***  

Mikasa was telling him a bedtime story as usual but unlike before he doesn't chime in or say a word. She swallowed the heartache of being punished with his silence. She closed the book and was preparing to leave when he grabbed the hem of the sleeves of her nightgown to stop her from leaving. 

"Eren, what's wrong?" He didn't say anything and only pulled harder, refusing to meet her eyes. 

"...do you want another story?" Mikasa is just confused. 

Eren growled in frustration. It was the first time that they made eye contact since he learned of her eventual departure. 

Mikasa didn't know for sure if it was his eyes or her growing weariness but she let him yank her back to his bed. She waited for him to say something but he didn't say anything. 

Sleep took her with the view of his blank face stubbornly keeping his eyes on the ceiling. 

When Mikasa's eyes closed, that's when Eren finally turned his head to face her. He stared at her face, to immortalize it in his mind as if he hadn't already. 

She was asleep and he knows she'll be spending the night but he couldn't let go of her sleeves, he doesn't want to let go. Tightening his grip, that's when he allowed himself to be pulled into a dreamless sleep. 

Even with the recent schism and tension between them, they still prefer that rather than spend the last of their days without each other. 

Levi temporarily suspended his lessons with Eren. 

Eren didn't contest Levi's decision and spent his time shadowing Mikasa, even as she did her work to turn over and divide the household duties. 

Mikasa formally introduced him to the key members of the household. She looked at him, wordlessly asking for his consent and he nodded at her. 

Mikasa's voice was still soft but she raised her voice a bit. She clearly wanted her next words to be heeded. There was an authority in her voice when she instructed them to come to him if they needed assistance. "Eren is good with numbers and any problem you present to him, he'll surely find an unconventional way of solving it." He understood the opportunity she was giving him but his heart remained heavy as she was leaving him. 

When all the business of the household was taken care of, Eren and Mikasa used their remaining days dancing. She told him that if he wants dancing lessons for balls and parties, they can hire an etiquette teacher or dance teacher since she doesn't have experience dancing other than with Levi and Eren but the latter insisted on her being the one to teach him by grumbling.

Rather than get annoyed with Eren's moodiness and monosyllabic way of communicating, Mikasa was grateful that at the very least they are communicating again. 

They spent their remaining days hardly talking but also barely leaving each other's side. It was also unspoken how Mikasa would sleep beside Eren now. They spend as much time together as possible but her departure hangs over their heads, a noose sucking the life out of them. Because it will never be enough. 

Their eyes felt heavy but the two of them refused to retire to bed. They stubbornly remained on the Astronomy Tower’s terrace to watch the stars. 

Mikasa broke the silence. "Eren, dance with me?" something about her tone struck a chord in him. Almost like in a trance, he followed Mikasa to the center of the lower dome just underneath the stained glass ceiling where the light of the moon creates a kaleidoscope of colors around them. 

They didn’t dance the waltz or any other dances they practiced in the last few days. They just held each other as closely as physically possible while slowly swaying to the music box’s tune. They didn't say anything the whole time, their heads are also free from thoughts. They just savored the moment of them being so close to each other. 

When the song stopped, Eren slowly let go of Mikasa to close the music box whilst she remained dazed in the middle of the room. He went back for her and pulled her sleeves to guide them back to his room.  

They lay at their sides facing each other. 

“...Eren?” she called out to him in the dark.

“Mikasa,” he answered and she slightly beamed that he was finally talking to her again. 

She couldn't find the words to express herself as words were never her strong suit. 

The dawn is not far away and she'll be leaving soon. When she looks into his eyes all she could feel is the feeling of immense gratitude. 

"Thank you." She thanked him for talking to her again.

"Thank you–" for being someone I could care about. She choked and could only get the word thank you out. A perfectly shaped tear flowed out of her eye when she blinked.

Eren pulled Mikasa close to him and softly wiped her tears with a gentleness he never knew he was ever capable of. Because Mikasa deserves nothing less and she's the only one who ever showed him that he was capable of ever being happy. They were happy. He was happy and now it's over. She's leaving him. 

Mikasa slid closer to Eren. She stroked his hair and rested his head on the nook of her neck. "...thank you, Eren" tears uncontrollably flowed out of her eyes "…for caring about me." Thank you for caring enough about me to get mad that I signed my youth away. 

Eren's eyes burned and a large volume of hot tears steadily flowed out of him. 

The two of them silently cried themselves to sleep holding on to each other in the dark hoping the light would not come at all.

[wafflesandkruge]

what the water gave me

“David and Genya were wed with little pomp on a rather hasty trip to Ketterdam."

aka the denya wedding featuring ride or die best friends, sudden storms, and almost certain doom

ao3

Happy bday @sanktnikolais!!! Here’s to another year of brainstorming ideas we’ll never write 😊 Thank you for putting up with me even if I always pass out mid-convo and can’t make up my mind about anything 🥺🥺 You’re the best cowriter anyone can ask for and I hope you have a great day 🥺 ❤️ 

Also thanks to @generalstarkov​ for helping beta this fic and coming up with the title!

Zoya Nazyalensky could summon storms, restart hearts, and send men cowering with a single pointed look. But something she couldn’t do was spend an extended time on a moving ship without feeling queasy. She muttered angrily under her breath as she sat on a wooden step and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle.

She supposed her suffering was all for a noble cause—saving a Grisha boy from a life of servitude, ensuring parem couldn’t be mass produced, etcetera, etcetera. But truth be told, she would much rather have been in her soft bed in the Little Palace and sleeping in rather than sailing to an almost certain doom.

The pill of poison Genya had handed her felt impossibly heavy in her pocket.

“It’s just a precaution,” her friend had told her, but the tight set of her mouth suggested otherwise. The enemies they’d encounter in Ketterdam—the Fjerdans, the Shu, maybe even the Kerch themselves—would have liked nothing more than to capture a member of Ravka’s infamous Grisha Triumvirate. Zoya supposed being poisoned by her friend’s handiwork would be a better way to go.

Her nausea temporarily subsided and she let out a sigh as she lifted her head from between her knees. The weather was surprisingly clear today with no interference from her part. At the bow of the ship, she could make out Nikolai, his bright turquoise coat almost painful to look at. A few paces away from him, perched on a barrel, was Tamar, sharpening her axes with a whetstone. David, another third of the Triumvirate, was bent so far over the railing in order to study something Zoya feared he’d topple into the water. And Genya was nowhere to be seen, but she usually sulked belowdecks during the day to “protect her complexion” as if she couldn’t just Tailor herself to be even more infuriatingly perfect.

She trusted them, she realized suddenly. When had they turned from a ragtag group of survivors to a shoddy government trying their best to keep their country afloat? There were no other people she’d trust with her back, and she knew she wouldn’t hesitate to lay down her life for any of them. Well, except for Nikolai, but the man seemed to have nine lives anyhow.

“Zoya,” a voice suddenly hissed from behind her. She jumped to her feet, arms raised and ready to defend herself. However, instead of a wraith or an assassin, she only found Genya poking her head out from the door to the galley. “Come here.”

“All Saints,” Zoya muttered as she slipped into the room. Genya locked the door behind her and the two sat at the worn wooden table. “Are we planning an assassination?”

“A wedding.”

Zoya’s eyebrows shot up. “I beg your pardon? Perhaps save your frivolities until we’re off this saintsforsaken bucket that Nikolai calls a ship.”

“You don’t understand,” Genya said with a small shake of her head. “My wedding. To David.”

Zoya stared blankly at her, not quite catching what she was insinuating. Genya sighed. “Porridge for brains indeed.”

She scowled. “Say that again and I’ll blow you off this ship.”

Genya tacitly ignored her threats and nervously smoothed down the front of her bright kefta. “Well, to start, there is a non-insignificant chance that none of us will make it back from Ketterdam.”

Zoya forced her hand to stay still instead of drifting to her pocket. “Scared, Safin?”

“Only those with porridge for brains wouldn’t be.”

Zoya lifted a hand and a gust of wind sent hanging pots and pans clanging threateningly. Genya only sighed and looked sorrowful.

“If I am to die tragically young and beautiful, I’d like to do it with a ring on my finger. Genya Kostyk Safin just sounds absolutely divine, doesn’t it?” she asked with a dreamy expression on her face. Zoya still couldn’t see how this was related to herself. She snapped her fingers impatiently in front of her friend’s face.

“And?”

“And!” Genya exclaimed, her lower lip trembling, “Everytime I bring up the subject of marriage he flees to the nearest laboratory! Do you think he doesn’t want to marry me? Am I too damaged for-”

“Of course not,” Zoya said fiercely. She reached across the table and clasped Genya’s hands tightly. She’d seen the way David looked at Genya, like she was the most fascinating puzzle he’d ever laid eyes on. A puzzle he wanted to spend a lifetime figuring out. “You know how he is. He probably can’t figure out how to make it perfect for you.”

“I don’t need it to be perfect. I just need him.”

Zoya gazed into her friend’s beautiful face, at the longing and hope apparent in every feature. Was that what love did to someone? To require nothing else but the other? Saints, she’d take her chances by herself then.

She patted Genya’s hand awkwardly until her sniffling subsided. Then her friend’s amber eye gleamed.

“When we’re about a day off the coast of Kerch, I need you to summon a storm big enough that the ship is on the verge of capsizing. I’ll get Nikolai to marry us as captain of the ship, in a sort of last wish situation. Then you can call off the storm, the ship will be safe, and I’ll have my husband.”

Zoya gaped at her. “That’s certainly…” She dug around for the right word. “...inspired.”

Genya beamed, previous tears seemingly forgotten. “Isn’t it? I was reading one of Tolya’s novels and got the idea. So? What do you say?”

Zoya paced outside of Nikolai’s room. She wasn’t scared to knock. Of course not. No, she just had to finish thinking through this entire crazy, convoluted plan before approaching him with Genya’s proposal. Or rather, David’s lack of a proposal.

Without warning, the door swung open. Nikolai was silhouetted in the door frame, his hair messy with sleep. He looked younger that way, not a king, not a pirate, but— Zoya swallowed and sketched a quick bow, hoping the dark would hide her flaming cheeks.

“Do you have something to tell me, or do you just enjoy wearing holes into my ship?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

“I’m sorry for the late hour, Your Majesty-”

“No need to stand on ceremony. Just Nikolai is fine.”

She decided to get straight to the point. “I need you to officiate a marriage, as captain of this ship.”

Nikolai blinked at her. “Why Nazyalensky, I’m flattered, but-”

“For Genya and David!” Zoya hissed. If she hadn’t been blushing before, she was now. Did the king really think that she had meant— She didn’t want to dwell on it.

Nikolai shrugged off his mistake like a cheap coat. “I didn’t know the two were engaged. My congratulations to them both.”

“That’s the thing,” Zoya said, her patience wearing thin. How on earth were they going to pull this off? “They’re not engaged.”

She could practically see the gears in his brain turning. “An...elopement then?”

“Not quite. Can we sit to discuss this? It will take some explanation.”

Bewilderment rolled off of him in waves, but he moved aside and let her into his room. Zoya settled herself into the large chair at his desk. Too late, she realized that left no seat for Nikolai, but he perched on the edge of his desk without complaint. He let out a yawn.

“Well?”

Zoya laid out Genya’s plan for him, all the while trying her best to avoid looking at him for too long. In the darkened cabin with just the moon as a source of illumination, it felt too unbearably intimate. She knew these moments would come back to haunt her later when she couldn’t sleep.

Nikolai nodded along with her words, remaining silent until she had finished. He had moved closer without Zoya noticing, the side of his leg nearly brushing her hand gripping the armrest of his chair. She hastily folded her hands together in her lap.

“So if I’m understanding this correctly, you want to risk sinking my ship just to shove those two into marriage?” He seemed fully alert now, his hazel eyes gleaming.

“That’s correct.” Zoya realized how absolutely insane it sounded, but she owed Genya at least this. “The risk will be minimal, I’ll have everything under control.”

Nikolai smiled. “I’ll hold you to it, Nazyalensky.” He moved towards a cabinet and removed two glasses. “How about a toast to celebrate our new partnership? Young love, how exciting.”

Zoya cut a glance at him. The king wasn’t married, nor was he engaged to anyone. He’d never even courted anyone, and by all accounts, he had lived the life of a most cautious bachelor. She couldn’t see why. He was young, handsome, and now with a throne to his name, a desirable match by all counts. She remembered the words she’d spoken to Alina nearly a lifetime ago.

Toss him over. Break his heart cruelly. I will gladly give our poor prince comfort, and I would make a magnificent queen.

Well, a king now, she corrected herself. And kings came with too many complications.

He handed a glass to her, their fingers brushing briefly. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, and in the dim light, she could make out his blackened fingertips, the dark veins that ran across the back of his hand like ink. He noticed her gaze.

“Not too pretty up close, is it?” His tone was light, but she didn’t miss the way his fingers curled into a fist to hide them.

“We all have our own scars,” she replied. “Yours just happen to be harder to hide.”

She could feel his curious gaze on her as they clinked their glasses together and drank. Perhaps she’d said too much. She’d seen the way men’s eyes had lingered on the scars on her back, the romantic stories they no doubt convinced themselves of. Nikolai would be no different.

A few drinks later, Zoya made her excuses and slipped out of his cabin. There was a pleasant warmth in her body that hadn’t been there before, but whether it was from the drinks or the king, she couldn’t tell. She leaned against the wooden paneling of the hall for a second to clear her head.

As charming as he was, there would never be anything between them. Could never be anything between them. Zoya vowed it to herself silently as the world settled back into place.

In her stupor, she missed the soft footsteps behind her, and the sight of another shadow slipping into Nikolai’s room.

“I must have hit my head, because I could have sworn I just saw Zoya Nazyalensky leaving your room,” Tamar accused as she shut the door behind her. Nikolai was sitting at his desk, a glass still in his hands. Zoya’s abandoned glass lay on the table, lipstick smudged around the rim. He could still feel her presence, her sweet wildflower scent clinging to his clothes like perfume. It made his head spin pleasantly.

“Is everyone on this ship determined to prevent me from having a good night’s sleep?” he asked lightly as he drained the rest of his glass and set it down. Tamar didn’t look amused. She crossed her arms over her chest, her tattoos shifting as her muscles tensed.

“I don’t need to tell you how spectacularly bad of an idea that would be.”

“What would be?” Nikolai asked innocently.

“Zoya. Nazyalensky. The world’s worst idea since allowing you to become king.”

Nikolai frowned. “That’s not very nice of you, Tamar. What about the time you convinced Privyet to let you knock an apple off his head with an axe? He still has the scars.”

“It was the wind. What I’m trying to get at, and what you’re too obtuse to admit, is there are limits to what your charm can get you. Nazyalensky will rip out your heart and mount it on her wall.”

“I think my heart would look ravishing on her wall,” Nikolai countered. “But,” he amended when he saw Tamar’s dark look, “I will keep your advice in mind.”

“She’s dangerous, Nikolai,” Tamar said, uncharacteristically serious. “Don’t play with her.”

Nikolai played with his glass. He’d seen the way Zoya had toyed with the hearts of men, and how cruelly she’d tossed them over. He thought that would be a small price to pay for even just a moment of her attention. Maybe he would have considered playing along in his youth, but he was a king now, and kings had other cliffs to dash their hearts against.

“I won’t,” he promised. He got up from his desk and flopped back into his bed. “Now, if you have nothing else to say, I would like to scrape together a few hours of decent sleep.”

Tamar didn’t look convinced of his sincerity, but she left his room. Too late, Nikolai realized he’d forgotten to tell her of Zoya’s proposal. Tomorrow, he promised himself as sleep dug its claws into him again. I’ll tell her tomorrow.

The day arrived. Zoya couldn’t sleep all night, stray breezes flitting about her cabin, scattering papers and blowing out lamps. Genya kept sending her knowing winks which did nothing to calm her nerves. If the ship actually capsized, she didn’t know how to swim and drowning in the freezing waters of Kerch was a rather stupid way to die.

“Wait until noon,” Genya whispered conspiratorially as they brushed by each other on the deck. “I’ll look radiant.”

Zoya pretended to brush dust off her kefta and nodded. From the bow of the ship, Nikolai caught her eye. He gave a playful salute and motioned for her to join him. Zoya cast a furtive look around, but she couldn’t find an excuse to occupy herself with. Reluctantly, she approached him and stood at his shoulder. He looked completely at ease despite the damage she was about to wreak upon his ship.

“A fine day for a wedding, don’t you think?” he asked as he surveyed the horizon.

“As gloomy as any other.” If Genya had wanted to look radiant, perhaps she should have had Nikolai charter a trip to Zemeni waters. This close to Kerch, there was nothing but mottled clouds and gray waters. At least a storm would be believable.

“I’ve informed the crew of the upcoming nuptials. Everything should be tied down already, so feel free to do your worst, Nazyalensky.” He smiled at her. Zoya scowled back.

“If you want my worst, the fish will be picking at your royal bones and Tolya will have to be crowned king in your absence. Just make sure you do your part, or Genya will Tailor your pretty curls white.”

“I’d look rather distinguished, don’t you think?”

Zoya resisted the urge to knock him over the railing. She tucked her hands into her sleeves and stared stonily out across the sea. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I suppose I ought to brush up on my liturgical Ravkan. I’ll come running back when the storm starts.”

“Running is unbecoming of a king,” Zoya said with a sniff. He only flashed her another smile before heading for his cabin, whistling all the while.

The sun eventually broke through the clouds and crawled higher into the sky, though it didn’t seem to get any warmer. Zoya kept checking the watch clipped to her pocket, but time seemed to be slowing down. Genya and David were still nowhere to be seen.

“They’re late,” she muttered to herself as the hands on her watch finally pointed to noon. She clapped her hands together, feeling a storm building in her bones. Dark clouds rolled across the sky and her ears popped as the pressure dropped. The sea roiled.

When the first droplets of rain splashed down, Nikolai strolled out of his cabin, somehow perfectly at ease. He stood at her shoulder, his presence a distraction. She raised an arm and a particularly sharp gust of wind slammed into the ship, making the deck tilt beneath their feet. Her stomach flip flopped. Nikolai’s crew scrambled across the deck in a well orchestrated show.

Soon, her wet clothes were clinging to her as lightning forked across the sky. Her blood sang at the release of power. More, more, more, a voice cried within her. She had half a mind to do just that when Genya and David burst onto the deck. Her eyes locked onto Nikolai.

“I suppose it’s my turn,” Nikolai said. He didn’t look bothered by the storm even though his hair was plastered across his forehead and he’d lost his hat to the sea. Zoya reluctantly lowered her arms, the storm content to continue without her urging.

Genya and David stumbled across the pitching deck, their arms thrown across each other. Zoya wondered if her friend thought it was a foolish idea yet. Tamar followed close behind them, an arm shielding her eyes from the lashing rain.

“Captain!” Tamar cried. “We’re taking on water in the hold!”

Zoya saw the brief flash of panic in Nikolai’s eyes. She didn’t know much about ships, but that didn’t seem like a good thing. The deck pitched violently again and she stumbled into him. He caught her neatly and held her close for just a moment too long.

“I hope you have a plan that doesn’t involve us all drowning,” she hissed as she shoved herself away from him.

“All in good time, my dear commander,” he replied. “Let’s get the lovebirds married first then we can start fixing things.”

“I really don’t think-”

“Your Majesty,” Genya gasped, reaching them at last. Zoya pushed away from Nikolai. She was soaked to the bone and her crown of braided hair was beginning to come apart. David looked no worse than usual except for the tightness in his shoulders. He gripped Genya’s arm tightly to prevent her from slipping.

“We need a favor,” David said in that abrupt way of his. “Marry us. Immediately.”

Zoya locked eyes with Genya, who gave her a smile. Somehow, even soaked to the bone with her hair a mess, she truly looked as radiant as she had promised. And instead of the jealousy she might have felt if she were younger, Zoya found herself wishing Genya and David nothing but the best. She knew no one else who deserved a happy ending as much as the two of them. Well, assuming the ship didn’t capsize and dump them into the middle of the freezing ocean.

“Are you sure?” Nikolai asked. He had to shout to be heard above the roar of the storm. Tamar had appeared from belowdecks, a fierce grin on her face despite the grim circumstances. Zoya thought the five of them made a rather ridiculous picture, but she would have expected nothing less from Ravka. She raised her arms again and tried her best to rein in the storm.

David nodded. He was still clutching Genya’s hand tightly as if he would never let go again.

“Do you have your vows?”

David’s face paled at that, but Genya stepped forward, a determined glint in her eye. “I do.” She turned to David. “You have seen me at my darkest and still loved me for everything I am, and I will love you until our bones are dust and our atoms have been returned to the making at the heart of the world. I will love you even if continents and oceans separate us, in times of sickness and health, through whatever obstacles the world puts us through. David Kostyk, my love, I trust no one else to make me happy for the rest of my life.”

It was not the traditional Ravkan vows, or even the Grisha vows, but Zoya knew they came from the heart. David had a dumbstruck expression on his face, like he was seeing her for the very first time again. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I am not the most well-versed in love. I do not understand most of your jokes, or when you say something and mean something else entirely. But I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world, Genya Safin, and my heart and hands are yours as long as you want them. This I swear before you.” His face suddenly flushed scarlet. “And the Saints. They’re important too.”

Genya’s face shone, tears lining her eye. “Oh, bother the Saints.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him.

Nikolai smiled softly as he said the blessings, then Tamar placed crowns of braided rope upon their heads in place of the traditional thorn-wood wreaths. Scattered applause came from the crew members still rushing about to secure the ship. Zoya couldn’t help grinning as David removed a ring from his pocket and slid it onto Genya’s finger. Something was finally going right in this cursed country.

The storm continued throughout the day, but nothing could dampen the crew’s spirits as they moved belowdecks to celebrate. Zoya smiled indulgently as she watched Genya kiss David on the cheek again, a rosy glow on her cheeks from the champagne. Tamar gathered the couple into her arms and swung them around. Genya shrieked with laughter while David looked dizzy.

“Job well done, I suppose?” Nikolai asked as he slid into the seat beside her. He looked like he’d lost a fight with the storm again, but even with his bedraggled appearance, he still looked like a prince out of a fairy tale. Zoya supposed it was the lighting.

“Is your ship okay?”

“We’ll make it to Ketterdam, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Zoya shifted her gaze back to her friends and took a sip from the flute of champagne Genya had pushed into her hands. It seemed Nikolai was content to watch from a distance, as was she.

“Do you think you’ll ever find someone like that?” he asked suddenly, his fingers drumming against the wooden table nervously. Zoya didn’t see what he had to be nervous about, not when he had half the women of Ravka, and a good number of men too, falling at his feet. “Someone who thinks of you as the whole world. Someone who would gladly fight the Saints themselves for you.”

Zoya cut him a look under her lashes. “You’re drunk, your majesty.”

“Captain.”

“You’re drunk, captain.”

He laughed as he got to his feet again. “Maybe I am, Nazyalensky. I’d certainly have to be to ask you to dance.”

He offered her his hand, his hazel eyes expectant. Zoya rolled her eyes as she took his hand. A dance was innocent enough, she supposed. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Someone has to be.”

Nikolai pulled her over to where Genya was giggling as she tried to feed a bite of cake to David. Her amber eye widened as she saw the two of them. “Dancing! Oh David, let’s dance!”

He frowned, frosting smeared around his mouth. “I’ll step on your toes.”

“That’s alright. You’ll still make me the happiest woman in the world.”

“Truly?” David’s brows furrowed. “Give me a second, dear.”

He reached into his kefta and procured a small notebook. After flipping past several pages of mechanical sketches and notes, he found a fresh page and wrote ‘ things that will make Genya happy: dancing (stepping on toes optional?) ’.

Zoya averted her eyes, focusing on forcing her feet to move. “They’re so horrifyingly in love,” she grumbled.

“No one likes a cynic,” Nikolai said sagely.

“You’re just as bad as them.”

“Who knows,” he hummed happily as he twirled her under his arm, “We may be due for another Triumvirate wedding soon.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That would be difficult to arrange, but I’m sure we’ll manage.”

Zoya stomped hard on his toes, but he only laughed.

[sabficinspo]

I Didn’t Want To (Have to Haunt You) - Lalaith_Yamainu

Chapters: 60/60

Fandom: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov

Characters: Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Baghra (The Grisha Trilogy), Zoya Nazyalensky, Ivan (The Grisha Trilogy), Fedyor Kaminsky

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Waking up in the past, Mostly show based, some Book spoilers, Alina is confused, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no beta we die like Alexei, Now Aleksander is confused too, Soft The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, what’s the opposite of slow burn?, Politics, its only treason if you lose, Flash Fire?, Everyone Needs Therapy, Fluff, Queen Alina Starkov, actually Alexei lives, he's too cute to kill, "How to Stage a Coup Responsibly" by Alina Starkov, and its companion volume:, "How to End All Wars" by Aleksander Morozova, HEA, Nikolai doesn't read Yelp reviews

Summary:

At the beginning of everything, Mal is just a second too slow to pull Alina out of the way of the incoming carriage. But the Alina who wakes up is not the young girl who had been walking down the road a moment ago.

Time Travel AU.

[snowie130]

Chapters: 7/? the final chapter of the first arc is here! 

Fandom:

The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo

,

Shadow and Bone (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, Ivan & Alina Starkov, David Kostyk & Alina Starkov, Ivan & Fedyor Kaminsky, I/F implied

Characters: Alina Starkov, Original Characters, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Ivan (The Grisha Trilogy), David Kostyk, Fedyor Kaminsky, Botkin Yul-Erdene, Zoya Nazyalensky

Additional Tags: (is it just me or relationships in Grisha tag are kinda limited?), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alina is taken to the Little Palace as a kid, everybody thinks Alina is Inferni, and nobody suspects the truth. so far, dialogues? don't know them, (when they come they will be awful), author's favorite: the way Alina gets her first amplifier, no beta we die like ships in canon, if i tag one line of library porn u ll probably misunderstood me..., the first part of the series is perfectly Gen, it's not the first time my tags are disaster, if u're reylos look at my SW works and u ll see, i’d tag Alina & Zoya but it’s more like Alina vs Zoya, big brother Ivan, is Alina using her powers without realizing it? well, the kitchen raids have the purpose other than to fatten up our heroine, the author hits herself to close to home when the fic mentions, Bullying, vaguely but still. that’s the, Angst, in here but we also have, Fluff, Humor, Found Family, and i forgot to mention ch1’s, A Very Different Take on The Meadow Scene, Fistfight, Slytherin Alina, oh just wait for the way ch6 ends!, the strangest object of hero worship EVER

Series: Part 1 of

grisha classification

Summary:

What if young Alina was taken to the Little Palace... as Inferni?

[kikidi]

New chapter up! ❤️😉

Chapters: 11/?

Fandom: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo, Shadow and Bone (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov Characters: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, Baghra (The Grisha Trilogy), Genya Safin, David Kostyk, Ivan (The Grisha Trilogy) Additional Tags: Darklina - Freeform, Because we deserved a better ending than that, Aleksander deserved a taste of happiness even for just a split second, i dont hate mal, but i dont like him either, I love Nikolai, so he might show up in later chapters, Maybe - Freeform, not sure yet - Freeform, I suck at tags, i also suck at titles, i might change the title when i think of a better one, can we appreciate ben barnes as Aleksander, ben barnes - Freeform, OOC, Not Canon Compliant, Major canon divergence, because duh, no betas we die like men, Mal is not special, baghra is not who she seems, Their bond through the tether develops sooner, He is just a gifted tracker and nothing more Summary:

He is darkness. She is the sun. Will he let her in in time to save Ravka? Will she accept his darkness enough to save him from himself?

OR

A rewrite to include The Darkling's POV. Here, they meet before her powers are revealed. We see them fall in love and hopefully, get the ending that i hoped they were going to get.

[thera-daydreams]

SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

series masterlist & synopsis • thera's masterlist

chapter two.

▪︎ coincidence ▪︎

The Black General finds himself magnetized by the seemingly inconspicuous gardener in the Little Palace. He gets to know you, contemplating life. Just when he thought you were just a strangely wise, young otkazat'sya woman, he finds out why exactly you decided to work in the Little Palace.

warnings: darkling may be somewhat ooc (?), talks of death and loss, accidental eavesdropping and stalking (?), no beta we die like wanda

word count: 2.5k

(author's note: did you guys know that this all started with a chat on character.ai? and this was supposed to be one chapter but i decided to split it into two. chapter 3 already loooong, bro. this one is shorter.)

He’s here again.

For the past couple of days, you observed that the General appeared to be taking a lot more strolls in the palace gardens—if he was not preoccupied with his paperwork, training, missions, the Second Army, and whatever the King asked of him. Most of the time, he would simply pass by.

But today, he appeared to be in a... talkative mood as he examines the bushes you were pruning.

“In the span of only a couple of months, you’ve turned this neglected section of the palace gardens into perhaps the most pristine one out of all of them, Miss Maximoff,” the Darkling began. You turn around, bowing as he approaches you.

“Sir.”

“The former gardeners tend to stay away from this area given how stubborn the weeds are and how dead the soil here seems to be,” Kirigan pointed out. “Yet, look at them now. Perfectly manicured. You must have magical hands.”

Hah! If only he knew. Not that you used magic, though. This was pure hard work and talent.

“I'm glad you are pleased, General,” you reply politely, not meeting his eyes out of respect. You were absolutely not expecting to get compliments from the feared General of the Second Army. Hell, you didn’t think he would talk to you again after he had asked your name.

The General tilts his head to the side, crossing his arms as he continues to regard you. There’s a hint of a frown on his face.

“You have a talent for avoiding attention, it seems. That could be useful,” he mutters, making your brows furrow. What was he implying? “Tell me, why is someone like you working as a mere gardener?”

You blink, somewhat baffled by his strange question. “Because... I like gardening, sir?"

The man lets out a small scoff, as if your answer is somehow preposterous to him. He takes another step forward, his presence even more intense than before. “That’s it? You garden because you like gardening? No other reason?”

“Well... I get to watch the plants grow day by day, to nurture them, and care for them.” You murmur, glancing at one of the blooming rose bushes. “And it's peaceful. No one bothers me, and it's not as tedious as the maids' work, always running around…”

And you get to watch over your little Grisha trio without raising suspicion, you mentally add.

Kirigan follows your gaze, taking in the sight of the roses and other plants, before returning his gaze back to you. “Mhm. And a gardener’s wages and quarters are good enough for you, I trust?”

“It is enough to keep me living, sir, so I must be grateful,” you answered, still wondering why on earth he kept talking to you. Was he suspicious of you? Oh no. Or you were overthinking it.

The General nods, but you can tell he’s still trying to figure out the mystery that is you. “No family? No husband or children?”

You pause, brow furrowed. That was a bit too personal but you shake your head.

“No?” He raises an interested eyebrow as he watches you closely. With each piece of information, he only seems to grow more intrigued with you. “I see.”

Kirigan studies you for a moment longer, the wheels in his mind clearly turning, but just when you think he’s done with the questions, he suddenly asks another. “You’ve lived here at the Little Palace for a couple of months now, correct?” You nod in response. “And you’ve spent that entire time here in the gardens…”

The General lets out a thoughtful hum before continuing. “Surely you’ve observed many things during your time here, have you not?”

You were really, really wondering if he was suspicious of you considering how much of a conversationalist he was being right now. “I... guess so, sir.”

A sly smirk slowly crawls across the General’s face, and you can sense a subtle shift in his demeanour. He takes another step toward you, his voice tinged with barely-concealed curiosity. “Tell me, what do you think of us Grisha?”

Was that a trick question? Was he cornering you?

You pause. “Uh... you are... special people, sir?” That sounded a bit dumb. But it was short and vague enough so that he doesn’t think you’re racist to them. You didn't care if someone was otkazat'sya, Grisha, or whatever race there was! Kirigan is silent for a moment. He shakes his head faintly, but you can still see the hint of a smirk on his face.

“Special?” He repeats, clearly expecting something different.

“Well, humans with special... abilities. But still like any other human, nevertheless,” you elaborate. You racked your brain for an answer which hopefully would not offend the man. The General lets out a small scoff, but it lacks any real malice. He regards you with a look that’s almost appraising in nature.

“Special abilities... so, you have no disdain or fear of us?”

You frown, turning your focus to the plants. “People... fear what they do not understand, General. Some just cannot fathom some differences in humans. But... no, sir, I do not hold disdain or fear Grisha.” You gaze back at him.

Kirigan’s gaze is fixed on you as you speak, taking in every word you say with great interest. There’s something about your simple logic that seems to catch his attention. Not many thought the same way you did, unfortunately. His eyes wander over your features, as if trying to decipher some hidden secret that you’re keeping. However, there’s no hint of anger or irritation in his stare—only intense curiosity and a subtle hint of… something you could not understand.

Finally, he speaks, his voice soft yet with an edge of command to it.

“Come walk with me.”

You tilt your head, but comply. He seemed like someone who disliked repeating himself, after all, from what you’ve heard from the other servants. You silently follow him as he walks through the Little Palace gardens, keeping a respectable distance. Even from behind, General Kirigan’s strides were confident and purposeful. Imposing, with his height.

“You seem quite comfortable in my presence,” he remarked casually, breaking the silence.*

“Oh. Forgive me, General.” You weren't exactly that comfortable with his presence, but compared to the other servants, perhaps you were. The Shadow Summoner lets out a small huff, amused by your response. He shakes his head faintly as he glances sidelong at you.

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing, did I?”

“Ah…” you muttered, purposely not making eye contact. What exactly did this guy want from you?

The General smirks as he watches you out of the corner of his eye. There’s something about your reactions that seems to fascinate him further, and he begins to ask another question as you continue walking through the gardens.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

“Is… that… wrong of me, sir?” you clarified. It was kind of hard for someone like you—a witch who’s seen thousands of universes, scouring time and space itself to destroy the Books of the Damned—to be afraid, nowadays.

He lets out a small huff of laughter, a slight smirk on his face. “No, not wrong. Just unusual. Most otkazat’sya are terrified of me, if not outright hostile due to some perceived slight or threat. And yet, here you are.” He gazes at you from head to toe. “Quiet, reserved, diligent, and respectful, but completely unafraid. That’s rare from the otkazat’sya, even my Grisha.”

Maybe you should have acted more meek and terrified as the new palace gardener.

The General continues to regard you in silence for a moment longer, a subtle hint of something that looks like… curiosity in his gaze. There’s a strange mixture of intensity and fascination in his eyes. “Indulge me, Miss Maximoff,” he murmurs as he stops at a small fountain. “Is there anything you fear?”

Another strange question from the general to a gardener. Still, you mull it over seriously.

General Kirigan waits patiently, watching you carefully as you think. There’s a hint of anticipation in his expression, as if your answer is something he’s been dying to know.

“... Grief, sir,” you finally reply, a misty look in your eyes. He raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that answer. He tilts his head to the side, his gaze fixated on you.

“Grief?” He echoes, surprise lacing his voice. “That’s what you fear most?”

“The ultimate price for love,” you murmur, staring into your reflection in the water. You remember the words of the love of your life. Vision was too human for someone who was not. “Because what is grief, if not love persevering?”

A muscle twitches in the General’s jaw as you speak. His own eyes—for the slightest second—become glassy, as if your words touched some hidden nerve. Momentarily, the memory of a certain Healer being stabbed to death came to mind. But his expression quickly returns to its usual cool and collected demeanor.

“... A fair fear,” he acknowledges, his voice low and contemplative. Kirigan continues to walk beside you, his gaze occasionally flitting over to your face as if he was trying to figure out how genuine your responses were.

“And what about pain?” He suddenly asks, a hint of something like a challenge in his voice. “Most people fear pain.”

“... Enough pain makes you numb, General,” you counter quietly, lightly dipping your fingers into the fountain waters. They rippled, breaking the perfect liquid mirror.

He grows silent, pondering your answers. You see him peer into the water from beside you. “Have you ever been in love?”

What a question from the Darkling himself.

“... Once, sir.” And saints, did you pay the ultimate price for it.

The General raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your answer. He continues walking, his gaze still fixed on you. “Just once?”

You nod resolutely. “My greatest, and I believe, my last love.”

Kirigan says nothing for a few moments, his gaze fixed on you like a hawk.

“And what happened?”

“He died,” you answer tersely. His expression is unreadable as he listens to you. His jaw clenches faintly, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes—pity, perhaps—but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

“And you haven’t loved since?” He asks, his tone almost soft in comparison to his usual authoritative demeanour. You nearly forgot you were talking to the most terrifying man in all of Ravka.

“... I don't think I can.” You chuckled tiredly.

The Shadow Summoner raises an eyebrow at your admission, and there’s a hint of surprise in his expression. He seems to be studying you intently, as if trying to understand you better. His voice is quiet as he responds.

“Why not?”

“Probably can't handle the grief if I lost someone I loved all over again,” you admitted. You were now quite aware of your horrible coping mechanisms; the constant self-deception and spiral into madness you often fell into. Can you ever escape them? You don't know.

He nods slowly, a hint of understanding in his gaze. “But you truly don’t think you can ever love again, Miss Maximoff?”

“No.”

But that was a lie. You already did love again when you arrived into their world. Henrik, Dmitri, and Katyusha were living proof of your love. They would have likely died from either starvation, the cold, illness, or Grisha hunters had you not intervened.

Kirigan’s gaze is fixed on you as he continues to walk again. There’s a frown on his face, as if your words have stirred something in him that he can’t quite identify. He’s silent for a few more moments before he comments.

“That’s quite lonely, isn’t it?” He touched one of the white rose bushes, mindful of the thorns.

You chuckled again, “Sometimes, solitude is the easier option, General.”

There’s a tinge of understanding—and maybe his own loneliness—that makes it clear he knows what you're talking about. After a minute of walking in silence, you decide to share your thoughts to the man. You might be overstepping, but it was a change of topic you needed.

“You told me earlier that I have a… talent for avoiding attention, sir,” you start. “Perhaps I simply prefer to watch than act.”

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it seems like he's not going to respond, but then he lets out a small huff, almost as if he finds the truth in your observation amusing.

“You must be quite observant, then, hm?” he mutters.

“There is much one can see when on the sidelines,” you answer, frowning as you spot a relatively large snail on a leaf. At the sight of the pest, he lets out a soft huff—almost a chuckle, but it’s hard to tell for sure. He takes a step closer to you, his eyes following yours to the plant and the snail on it.

“Ah, so you notice everything?” he asks, his tone a little more teasing now.

“I'm just the gardener. Hardly everything, sir.” You excuse myself, quietly retrieving the snail and placing it into a glass jar you procured from your pockets.

The Black General watches in silence as you handle the snail, his expression a mix of intrigue and amusement. He gazes at the snail in the jar.

“... Do you often keep a jar at the ready? Expecting to find a snail?”

“Or some ravenous caterpillars munching on my hard work,” you snort. Kirigan lets out a real chuckle this time at your answer. There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he glances at the jar in your hand.

“Can’t have those pests ruining your precious plants, can we, Miss Maximoff?”

You raise a brow, a tiny grin on your face—the first he’s seen. “Technically, you're the head of the Little Palace, so it's your plants, not mine, General.”

He glances at you, amused. He lets out another soft huff, his gaze flickering from you to the plants around you. Alas, you reached the end of your walk in the palace garden.

“I hope the garden's... state of being was to your liking, sir.” You bow your head.

He nods, his expression now more aloof. “It’s up to my standards, yes. You’ve done well.” The Shadow Summoner says this almost distractedly, as if the status of the garden is not his primary concern at the moment. His eyes are still fixed on you, his gaze sharp and perceptive as he studies your features.

“... Is there anything I may assist you with, moi soverenyi?”

General Kirigan hesitates for a moment, considering your question. His gaze shifts from you to the garden around him, almost as if he’s thinking of an excuse to keep you here a little longer. But then, he seems to decide against it, and the expression on his face becomes impassive.

“No.” His voice was measured. But then, he adds, “You may just want to consider planting moonflowers."

You think over his suggestion, then give a small smile. “Very well, sir. I'll see to it.”

And then, without another word, he turns and strides away, disappearing into the Little Palace corridors.

ᱬᗢᱬ

You don't notice—a mere week later—that by chance, the Black General had been near the Little Palace lake when you were secretly visiting Henrik, Dmitri, and Katyusha at the Grisha children's school. At first, he was wondering why there were kids were sneaking away somewhere from the supervision of their teachers.

Now, he understood.

You may be talented at gardening, but it wasn't the main reason why you were even at the Little Palace, Kirigan realized. Not even close.

When he spots you handing them candies from the kitchens, laughing as they embraced you, kissing their foreheads so tenderly—he hums, extremely pleased with himself that he decided to visit the summoners' pavilion and the lake this afternoon.

The fates were on his side today.

Aleksander was going to have to look into the history of those three Grisha children and how on earth his gardener knew them so closely.

next chapter

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[wesper-ao3feed]

Whats done in the dark will always find a way to shine (I done did so much that when you see you might go blind)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/B10aXDH by Fandomsqueen1 Wylan Van Eck had no friends. That was the ugly truth. He had people who tolerated him. He sat with them at lunch, He talked to them, He might have considered them his friends, but they didn’t consider him theirs. It was something that had been drummed into him for years.   Or Wylan Van Eck Had a cursed existence, he was abused at home and constantly lived in fear of something happening to him. He starts sitting with the Crows and learns what it is like to be loved and have a real family who would love you no matter what and do anything for you. The rest of the crows had had cursed existences too, but together they could overcome anything. Words: 5113, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo, Shadow and Bone (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar, Alys Van Eck, Jan Van Eck, Gert Van Verent, Original Characters, Kuwei Yul-Bo Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik, The Crows Ensemble & Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker & Wylan Van Eck, Matthias Helvar & Wylan Van Eck, Wylan Van Eck & Nina Zenik, Wylan Van Eck/Original Male Character(s), kinda original - Relationship, Kaz Brekker & Jordie Rietveld, Alys Van Eck/Jan Van Eck Additional Tags: Wylan Van Eck Needs a Hug, Wylan Van Eck-centric, Dyslexic Wylan Van Eck, POV Wylan Van Eck, Hurt Wylan Van Eck, Snarky Wylan Van Eck, Hes not rlly at the start but he gets there promise!, what 16+ yrs of abuse will do to you ong smh, Flirty Jesper Fahey, Jesper Fahey Loves Wylan Van Eck, so muchhh i want what they havee, Kaz Brekker is Bad at Feelings, search up emotionally constipated and youll get a photo of kaz, Kaz Brekker Loves Inej Ghafa, omg i want what they have too ily inej, protective crows, rlly they all wanna punch van eck he rlly needs an entire trigger warning, Bad Parent Jan Van Eck, Jan Van Eck Bashing, Rlly hope he dies Jan Van Eck more like Jan Van DICK, Wylan Van Eck & Nina Zenik are Best Friends, not at the start but they will beee, Kaz Brekker & Wylan Van Eck Friendship, half beta we die like i hope jan van eck will, Protective Kaz Brekker, Protective Inej Ghafa, Protective Nina Zenik, Protective Matthias Helvar, Protective Jesper Fahey, High School, yall the fact i listen to not like us on repeat will be rlly obvious soon i swear, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, LOVE J COLE not related at all but yall should know, Wesper centric, but theres PLENTY of the other ships too promise, Bullying, Gambling, Racism, only for the grisha tho, will only be mention with matthais and or ninas pasts dw, shadow and bone guys r there just not relevant enough to tag i think, also im not from america not even close, i went to LA for a week and thats all i act real american tho ikk, kaz is wylans big brother yall aint no way youre telling me otherwise read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/B10aXDH

[ao3feed-eremin]

you hate me, but i know you cant get enough

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/teAuLbx

by thenoddlenoodle

Armin, who has been recovering from mental rehab, finally returns home to restart a semblance of normal life, and nothing more. Eren, returning back from living abroad for a year with his dad and suffering a huge heartbreak, wants nothing to do with romance. But after every twist and turn of events, the two end up running into each other more than once, and something familiar begins to blossom in the air. Is it the bubbly, flying feeling of romance, or the scorching burn of hatred?

Words: 8483, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager

Additional Tags: Modern AU, School AU (probably college but idk yet), ymir and mikasa are adopted by carla, historia and armin are adopted by eruri, this is meant to be slow burn im sorry, no beta we die like levis comrades, i procrastinate on writing a lot im sorry, armin has issues but everyone else does too, they kinda hate each other at first. teehee, Armin Arlert & Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss Are Twins, not sure where this is going but this will be good i promise, Angst, by the way, every character is in their s4 glow up rn, carla and grisha are divorced, jean and eren are exes, yes it is awkward, sorry - Freeform, Everyone Is Gay

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/teAuLbx

[starberry-08]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, David Kostyk/Genya Safin, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky, Genya Safin & Alina Starkov, Fedyor Kaminsky & Alina Starkov Characters: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Alina Starkov, Genya Safin, Fedyor Kaminsky, Ivan (The Grisha Trilogy), Ivan Kaminsky Additional Tags: Time for some fluff, Alina and Aleks are happily married, Alina finds out she is pregnant, POV Alina Starkov, Plenty of Fluff, Some Crack, some smut, pregnancy reveal, Aleks is overprotective, What's new?, a bit late but for Darklina Server Fluff Month, domestic Alina and Aleks, and some Genya and Alina friendship moments because I love them, Darklina are in love and everyone knows it, no beta we die like mal should have, Darklina server makes the canon now Summary:

Alina and Aleksander are happily married and leading Ravka after the coup, when Alina mysteriously starts feeling ill. Ivan and Aleksander panic, what if she's been poisoned? But Genya has another idea which turns out to be correct, and plenty of sweetness ensues.

[filhadoboto]

Chapters: 1/1 (Explicit)

Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Nikolai Lantsov

Characters: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov

Additional Tags: hello welcome back to more filth, yes i wanted to write a fic about the real triumvirate, the darkling nikolai and alina are getting DOWN AND DIRTY, Good for them, Alina Starkov is Still a Sun Summoner, aleksander is alive and well thanks for asking, Threesome - F/M/M, no double penetration - not yet, lets get kinky lol, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Light Dom/sub, Blow Jobs, no beta we die like the grishaverse books should have after crooked kingdom, nikolai is king, aleksander is the general, alina is aleks wife, nikolai and aleksander are bi - i dont make the rules, my titles suck leave me alone, fuck canon embrace fanfic, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Control, Creampie, aftercare because we love tender moments here, also a bit of degradation - we are all whores here, Darknikolina, PWP without Porn, they fuck because they can okay??, happy smut everyone, Overstimulation, okay bye for now its 7 am i need sleep, no mal because who needs him anyway?

Summary: Alina wants one night to forget the responsibilities and everything that comes from being a living saint. Her two favorite men - Aleksander and Nikolai - are only too happy to help her.