#Taking on the entire fjerdan army

[thebadgerclan]

Coronation

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: The Coronation of His Most Royal Majesty, King Nikolai Lantsov...

A/N: I wanted to write something for Aleksander, but Nikolai’s had me in a chokehold lately, so here we are 😂

Also the reader can be either a Heartrender or a Healer, doesn’t really matter

“You look absolutely stunning, my love.”  You stood before the mirror, adjusting the sapphire encrusted crown perched atop your head.  Nikolai Lantsov, soon to be King of Ravka, was mooning over you, like he didn’t moon over you every other day, and you felt yourself blush.  “You look quite dashing yourself,” you replied, turning to face him.  Your husband wore fitted black trousers paired with a matching jacket, embroidered with the double eagle in striking gold.  

Your own ensemble was equally as regal: a gown of midnight blue silk, the double-eagle embroidered in glittering golden thread on the billowing train.  A pair of white silk gloves adorned your hands, your wedding and engagement rings atop them.  “Have you been to see Alina?” you asked, and your husband nodded.  “I have.  I think she’s equally as nervous as I am.”  The Sun Summoner would be standing alongside you and Nikolai, being given a position of honor in his court as Ravka’s savior.  She would serve as a bridge between the Second Army and the Crown, hopefully to smooth over a rocky past.

“You will be just fine, my love,” you said, moving to stand before him, taking his hands.  “This is what you’ve worked for your entire life, and I am so immeasurably proud of you.”  Nikolai smiled, bending to kiss you.  “Thank you, Y/N.  I would be the loneliest King in the world were it not for you.”  “Well, you’ll never be without me.”  He kissed you again, lingering for several minutes, until the guards informed you it was time.

***

Nikolai stood at the altar of the Royal Chapel, Alina to his left, you to his right.  Sankt Grigori’s bearskin was draped over his shoulders, as was the ceremonial cloak; dark blue velvet bearing the double-eagle, and the King knelt, allowing the Apparat to place the crown atop his head.  Your husband winced when the scepter fell on his right shoulder, the wound from the Darkling’s monsters not quite healed yet.  But when he rose, scepter in one hand, orb in the other, the chapel burst into applause.

Pride swelled in your heart, seeing your husband crowned, to see your people’s love for him.  But your joy was short-lived.  A woman stumbled into the aisle, her eyes glassy, gaze fixed on Nikolai.  At first, no one noticed her, too focused on the newly anointed King, but then, she spoke.  “Strymakt Fjerdan!” she cried, raising her hands and making fists.  At once, everyone in the chapel doubled over, hearts constricting, airways closing, lungs collapsing.

You clutched your chest, feeling as if your heart was trying to force itself from your body, watching as this woman, this monster, advanced down the aisle.  She was focused on the King, yet the King was focused on you.  He, like most everyone in the church, was clutching his chest, face contorted in pain, but as he fell to his knees, he was reaching out to you.  “Y/N,” he groaned, and when you toppled to the ground, you reached for his hand.

How could this be how you died?  You had survived the war, survived the Darkling, but this would be your death?  At the hands of an assassin at your own coronation?  If this was to be your end, at least you were with Nikolai.  At least he would be the last thing you saw before you died.  You retched, and blood burbled from between your lips.  Nikolai, pain radiating to every inch of his body, somehow gathered enough strength to crawl to you, to throw himself into your embrace.  

“Love…you…” he gasped, voice wheezing, face red.  Whoever this assassin was, she was focusing her attack on Nikolai; the King clearly her target.  But she also wasn’t afraid of collateral damage.  Blood was trickling from his nose, his mouth, yet he smiled.  He was in absolute agony, but you were here, and he supposed that was all that mattered in the end.  Unseen to you or Nikolai, Alina was pushing to her feet.  

She had saved Ravka, she had killed the Darkling, she had reunified her nation; she would not let it all fall so quickly.  The Sun Summoner threw out her hand, calling every ounce of her strength and rage, and lashed out.  But it was not sunlight that struck the assassin down, it was shadow.  With the assassin dead, you were able to breathe freely, your heart resuming its normal rhythm, and, weak as you were, you managed to rise to your knees and get to your husband.

“Nikolai!” you cried, turning him onto his back.  “Nikolai!”  “Y/N,” he breathed, weak and aching, but alive.  Alina was on her feet, staring at her hand, which was emitting wisps of shadow, and those at the front of the chapel were slowly rising.  “Y/N, I-”  “Don’t,” you said, folding your hands and beginning to heal him.  “Just be quiet.  I’ve got you.”  It was instinct to heal him, impulse.  He was your King, but he was your husband, and you would not let him die.

Several of his arteries had ruptured, his left lung had collapsed, and his intestine had perforated.  But you had ample combat and field training to heal his injuries with little issue.  Nikolai would need to be looked over by a more experienced Healer, but you knew he was no longer at risk of bleeding out.  You pushed yourself to sit, and Nikolai flopped into your lap, his head resting on your shoulder.

“It’s ok,” he whispered.  “I’m ok.”  You nodded, holding back tears, and kissed his brow.  Guards had flooded the chapel, along with Grisha and otkazat’sya Healers to tend to the wounded.  But Alina was staring blankly at the corpse of the assassin, her shoulders separate from her head.  Inky tendrils emanated from the wounds, a few wisps still hovering in the air around the Sun Summoner’s hand.  You’d seen the Darkling’s power enough times to know what that meant…

“Alina,” you called, voice trembling and weak.  “What… how did you…?  That wasn’t your Cut.”  The last part wasn’t a question, but a statement, and she nodded.  “How?”  Alina could feign innocence, pretend to be frightened of the power that now resided within her, but she couldn’t fight the smirk crawling onto her face.  It felt good, and she knew exactly how it had come to pass.  “Merzost always has a price,” she said, and through the lingering haze of pain, for the first time, you feared for the Sun Summoner.

***

The King was weak, but he was alive.  25 people had died at the coronation, but your friends had not been among them.  Nikolai had been checked over by an experienced team of Healers before being released, prescribed bed rest for a week to be on the safe side.  He sat in bed, propped up on several pillows, his War Council gathered around him.  “They call it jurda parem,” Councilwoman Alexi said.  “A variant of normal jurda.  It amplifies a Grisha’s power a thousand times.  Highly addictive and lethal.  What we saw, what we experienced, was what a Heartrender can do on the drug.”

You looked at your hands, horrified at the thought of causing such death and destruction.  Your husband noticed and took them in his, kissing the backs of your hands.  “What do we know about it?”  “Very little at this time.  Apparently the scientist who created it was Shu, set to seek asylum in Kerch.  But the Fjerdans intercepted him and are now setting him for trial.”  Nikolai nodded, though he wasn’t retaining anything.  He’d nearly died, he’d nearly watched you die, and though he was healed, he still wasn’t quite right.

“Is this an immediate threat to Ravka?” you asked, sensing Nikolai’s fatigue,  and Councilwoman Alexi shook her head.  “No, moya tsaritsa.  This appears to be an isolated incident, possibly in retaliation for staging the coronation on Hringkälla.”  You nodded, rising from your perch at Nikolai’s side.  “Then I must insist we reconvene at a later time.  The King is exhausted and needs to rest.”  The Council apologized and fled, leaving you and your husband in peace.

You shrugged your dressing gown off and climbed into bed, Nikolai eagerly snuggling into your embrace.  You held him tightly; both of you having come far too close to death for either of your liking.  “I love you,” you said, smoothing his beautiful blond hair down and kissing his head, his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and finally, his lips.  “I love you too, Y/N.  Saints, will this country ever give us a moment’s peace?”

That was your Nikolai: somehow making you laugh after the hellish day you’d had.  “I don’t think so,” you replied, cupping his cheek tenderly.  “But luckily, she has a King who can lead her through anything.”  Your husband hummed, coaxing your head closer to kiss you.  “And  a Queen to hold her King when he’s weak.”  “Of course, my love.”  This new drug posed an unimaginable danger to your people, but Nikolai would fight with everything in him to protect him; and you would be right by his side through it all.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone reader insert

[candy-necklace]

⁀➴ dark paradise

⌞ general kirigan x fem! healer reader ⌝

summary : The reader has been instructed by the king to help tend to general Kirigan's wounds after his long battle from Fjerda. With such close proximity might something ignite? perhaps the beginning of a flame. word count : 2.4k a/n : Hello! this is my first ever oneshot on tumblr, i do realize this is quite short. Do let me know if you like it or if there's any thing else you'd like to see written! This fic was definitely inspired by the song 'dark paradise' by lana del ray. It means the absolute world to me that you're reading this <3

" there's no remedy for memory , your face is like a melody " 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ “May I go in?”- you ask patiently waiting outside the general’s chambers. After the long battle with the Fjerdans, you were specifically instructed by the king to aid the general upon his return. Being a healer wasn’t necessarily the best but you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter in your chest at the prospect of being so close to the general.

One of the guards standing outside the general’s door nods in acknowledgement of your presence, and then moves out of the way so you can step inside the general's chambers. The general was not warned that you were coming, so he looks up curiously with his dark eyes fixated on you with a piercing stare.

“I’m here to help”- you start nervously 

General Kirigan leans back and crosses his arms. He seems less brooding than he was a few moments ago as he watches you step into the room. His gaze is steady and his look is intense, but there is a hint of something else in his expression that you have not yet been able to pinpoint.

“I heard our army won the war” You make your way to the general walking past the table onto where he stood. You raised your eyebrows when you saw the maps splayed on the table. “Yet you seem to be plotting on another”- you say studying the maps. 

General Kirigan nods his head as you study the maps on the table. "Indeed we have succeeded in our mission to liberate Fjerda, yet there is something troubling me," he pauses for a moment and glances over at you with a look of contemplation. "You are quite observant, Y/N. I must admit it has been a while since someone has caught an anomaly so quickly." I smile shyly in response, focusing my attention on him. “The king sent me to help you with your battle scars” 

General Kirigan leans forward slightly and stares into your eyes intently. They meet yours for a long moment without him blinking and then he finally nods. “I see. The king sent you to ease my injuries. Quite thoughtful of him don’t you think?”- he says proceeding to remove his kefta. 

I look away pretending to study my surroundings as he undoes his shirt. “Of course”- I reply softly, fidgeting with the hem of my dress nervously. 

“I must say I’m quite pleased you accepted to offer your help Y/N” You turn around and notice the general seated on his arm chair. He casually leans back making himself comfortable. Immediately your eyes fixate on his body.  You take in the way his pale chest glistens under the chandelier lights. His chest rises and falls with every breath and all of a sudden you’re unable to form words. The heat seems to have risen in the room.

You seat yourself next to him and subtly ask for permission to inspect his arm. “Tell me about the war”- you say softly, attempting to make conversation just so you could keep your mind distracted from any foolish thoughts. He simply looks at you intently and nods. 

“We grisha are difficult to eradicate” You frown as you gently run your hands over his scars tracing his arms to his shoulders. “Though they put up quite a show”- He answers smiling in amusement. 

You hum in response as your mind is preoccupied in healing him. You were too fixated on what you were doing to realise the general’s gaze was upon you the entire time. You work your way to his muscular torso. He sucks in a sharp breath when your hand lingers over his chest. You snap out of your trance and look at him in guilt “Does that hurt?”

The general's breathing grows heavy and he swallows tightly as your touch lingers on his chest. When you ask if he feels pain, the general shakes his head slightly. "It does not pain me." He closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly. The general glances down at his torso to see where your hands are resting, but instead notices that you are looking at him. He smiles softly. 

You blush profusely under his gaze and nod continuing your work. "You're very brave"- you say sitting up inspecting his body for any more wounds. 

The general is quiet for a moment as he watches you inspect his body for any more wounds. His breathing is slow and steady, and his eyes seem to be gazing right through you. He is clearly enjoying your attention.

Finally, he speaks up, but you cannot help but notice that his voice is still deep and dark in tone. “Brave?” The general glances down at the scar on his torso and back up to you. “I don’t really think of myself as brave. I simply have the best interests of Ravka in my mind. It’s my honour to serve the kingdom” 

You smile amused. "Not a lot of people are brave enough to lead a battle" Your eyes lock with his and you quickly look away "There is a cut on your face, may I?"- You ask politely 

The general nods his head slightly as he hears your question. “You may.” His eyes follow your hands as they reach towards his face, and they meet yours for a moment when your hands make contact with his skin. The general’s features remain stoic as you begin to treat his cut and your fingers move across his face. His heartbeat quickens. 

His hand envelops yours that’s on his face. “Y/N”- he starts leaning in gently. “Thank you for your help” He hastily stands up and you’re taken aback. His face is expressionless and you’re unable to comprehend what had just happened. 

You clear your throat and nod unable to meet his eyes. “I must return to my chambers, I’ll be sure to send the king your regards”- you said quickly, turning away clearly hurt. 

Just as you take a step he grabs your hand. “Wait” You turn around sighing only to see him staring longingly at you. He gently tugs on your hand and pulls you closer until your faces are inches apart. 

“General I-”

“Call me Aleksander”- he replies sternly 

As you’re about to say something he places his finger upon your mouth. “Shh”- he whispers, his breath heavy on your neck.  Your eyes flutter close and you lean in. The general leans forward towards you and his lips meet yours in a slow and heated kiss. He slowly slides his arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to him, your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. His lips linger on yours before he pulls away and looks directly into your eyes.

You blink as if in a trance and a smile forms on your face. The general seems overwhelmed by your smile and he looks at you for a long moment without saying a word. He looks as if he is trying to find the right thing to say.

Finally, he clears his throat and looks away. His face is slightly red and he speaks quietly.

“I hope to see you again Y/N”

“I hope so too”- You reply and make your way out. Your cheeks are still tinted red and there are countless thoughts in your mind. You linger for a moment more outside the door and walk away smiling. 

#shadow and bone #aleksander morovoza #darkling x reader #general kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #ben barnes #soc #grishaverse #the darkling #the darkling x fem!reader

[infin1ty-garden]

GUARDIAN ANGEL

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ summary: hearing rumors of the fountain of youth and finally finding a heading, nikolai decides to follow the rumors ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ pairing: nikolai lanstov x gn! siren! reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ warnings: drowing, darkling, a bit of spice ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ word count: 2k ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ author note: inspired by this and sorry for not posting in a while I was on vacation

masterlist.

"Are we sure that compass even works?" Asked Tamar swaying from side to side due to the heavy rain and storm they were passing through. "It points to what the holder wants most. I think the instructions are pretty clear," Nikolai's attention only being on the compass. It's arrow spinning from one direction to another.

"You are going to crash the ship," yelled Mal as he fell down sliding to the other end of the ship. "Don't worry we're almost there," and then he let go of the wheel entirely. Tolya grabbed it but as if they'd entered another dimension. The storm was nowhere in site and not that far away, an island.

"See, I was right," as he said that the ship hit something causing him to fall overboard. He tried to swim up but the waves kept crashing in on him. He could hear people yelling for him and orders being thrown around. They turned incoherent as he sunk deeper.

He felt two hands taking hold of his arms as he was lifted out of the water in seconds. Once he managed to open his eyes, he was miles from the ship. He wanted to turn and see his saviour. "Don't strain your body too much, just relax your safe," he heard the most angelic voice say.

In a blink of an eye his feet met the sand. He coughed up what felt like half the ocean. When he turned to thank his saviour they were nowhere to be seen. Had he imagined it? Then he saw it, his ship being attacked by sire

But he could not help his crew. If he even attempted to swim to them, he would be instantly attacked. His gun was wet, so it was useless, and what could he do with a sword. All he could do was watch and hope they make it.

Most of the crew was alright. No deaths but they had to dry dock the ship, as going in the row boats would have been a death wish. Now, they had to find the chalices. "Captain," Tamar handed him a spyglass. Looking through it he saw Second Army flags. The Darkling was here or his grisha were.

"How did they get here before us?" Alina asked bewildered. "It doesn't matter we just need to get the chalices before them," he really should have better timing. "Hand over the map," the Darkling appeared, along with his forces. "There's no map," Nikolai replied, confidence radiating off of him in waves.

Then one by one his grisha disappeared until he was the only one left standing. "You and what army," Kirigan looks behind himself. Worry coating his face but then he smirked. "I don't need an army," as he raised his hands the sand beneath his feet disappeared. He dropped down into the newly formed puddle like it was a slide.

"Well, that happened," all anyone could do was nod along to Mal's statement. As they continued on following the compass, it seemed to lead them in circles. "I think your magic compass stopped working," Alina gave him a sympathetic look. "We have more company. Tamar reported seeing Fjerdan and Shu ships," great just what they needed.

"We still need the two chalices. Let me give that map a try," Mal took the map from Nikolai. The map was written in a language no one could understand. It wasn't in Fjerdan, Kerch, Ravkan, Shu, Zemeni, Suli, or even Old Ravkan. But now that they were actually on the island, they could at least recognise the landmarks drawn. Mal's tracking skill would finally come in handy.

After spending hours walking, they've decided to make camp and rest for a bit. They couldn't let the Fjerdans or the Shu be the first to discover the secret to the fountain. As Nikolai was starting to close his eyes, he heard a splash of water near him. He looked to where he assumed the sound came from and was met with the most beautiful pair of eyes.

Was this the person that saved him? He couldn't be sure. He slowly moved towards the person, worried that any sudden movement might scare them away. "I am not some kind of rabid animal," that voice, his guardian angel. "Your friends are on the west side," you could mean the Fjerdans or the Shu.

"They're not our friends," you sent him a sceptical look. He suddenly remembered why they were on this island in the first place. "You wouldn't know where someone could leave two chalices around here, would you?" At this point Nikolai was fully laying down in the mud that surrounded the pot of water.

His face inches away from it. "Hypothetically, I would know where something like that could be hidden." He smiled and then asked. "Hypothetically, could you show me?" You disappeared, only to emerge a few seconds later. Slowly moving closer to him as he had done only minutes ago.

What you did next was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. You kissed him. It was slow at first, as if giving him the chance to pull away if he so wishes. Instead he placed his palm on the back of your head. Pulling you as close as he can and uped the ferocity of the kiss. You placed your fingers at the bottom of his chin.

Putting slight pressure on it, due to this he opened his mouth. You quickly slipped your tongue in. He felt something foreign enter his system. You quickly pulled away and submerged yourself, only the top part of your face could be seen. Watched him swallow whatever you had just given him. I really hope I don't die from this.

You made a motion with your hand for him to enter the water. Waited for him, as he took off his jacket and shoes. His feet were searching for the bottom of the pond or whatever it was. He felt a hand grab his foot and pull him into the water. "You're taking too long," he realised he could breathe underwater. You gently grabbed his waist and he placed his arm around your neck.

He finally saw your tail. You were a siren. He was so gonna die but why had you saved him and why were you helping him now. He had too many questions. None of which he could ask. As soon as he had entered the water he was out of it. In Front of him was a ship, but none of the text in any language he knew. It did match the art on the map.

"Thank you," you nodded with a smile on your face. He walked closer to the ship. It was suspended in mid air. Wedged in between two huge pieces of stone. How could he get up there?

He finally entered the ship with your help and a lot of trial and error. Each step on the deck was taken with extreme consideration as one wrong move could send the ship falling. Even if the ship seemed to have been here for years with the plants that have taken over the deck. Nikolai didn't want to take any chances.

As he descended down to the lower levels of the ship, he was greeted with copious amount of dust and rot....and gold? But he had little care for it. Maybe after they find the fountain of youth, he could bring some of that gold back to Ravka. One room in the ship was clearly meant for dining. The table comfortably fit nine people.

The seats were filled with skeletons. The stench of the rotten food and empty glasses of wine could signify that these people were poisoned. The ship without a crew was probably left to roam the sea and had met its journey's end. Crashing into the rocks. Or maybe all of them have been stabbed, who knows.

The chalices were nowhere to be found. He went searching different rooms until he reached the captain's quarters. In the middle of the room the captain was sitting a skeleton like the rest of the crew but on the bed next to him a chest. Nikolai made his way to the bed as he did the ship swinged and then the voices came.

He wasn't alone anymore but he recognised one of them as Zoya. He needed to work faster. He got to the chest but it was locked. Nikolai could hear the voices getting closer. The key was laying on the chain around the captain's neck. Unlocking the chest and...nothing, just some documents. Where could the chalises be? He looked in the drawers, desk and finally under the bed.

There was another chest, this one without a lock in it, the chalices inside. Then the door burst open. "Hand them over," before he could think or even form a plan the ship was falling. When he awoke he was tied up, next to him, Zoya. The flags were the first thing he'd recognised, Shu. The second one, that they were tied to a tree. "Finally, the sleeping beauty's awake," one of the guards said.

Whatever they'd done to Zoya, she'd seen better days. Cuts were littering her face and bruises were starting to form. "The others," he'd simply asked. "Probably dead." The guards had left their posts to fetch their superior. In the corner of his eye, Nikolai could see something being thrown next to his feet. A knife, he quickly picked it up and placed it near his hands. Cutting himself and Zoya lose.

"We need to plan our next steps carefully since we don't have our weapons," just as he said that his and what he assumes is Zoya's sword were thrown out of the water. If she had found the ordeal weird, she didn't mention it, just grabbed her sword. "This way, I saw them place the rest of the weapons there."

They managed to escape the camp unseen. "I will let you go but the next time we meet, you won't be given the same courtesy," with that she disappeared in the forest.

The chalices weren't with the weapons. The Shu must have taken them. Then out of nowhere Tamar, Alina, Mal and Tolya come charging past Nikolai. Tamar carrying one chalice while Mal carries the other. "Sturmhond," Alina says just realising he was even there. "Run," yells Tamar as she grabs him.

Then he sees it, the Darkling and his volcra. His feet do the rest as he joins the group running. Hoping to lose him in the woods. "What happened?"

"What happened? Where were you? You left and didn't even tell anyone," Alina retorts.

"I got a lead to where the chalices might be."

"But WE found the chalices."

"And WE are going to lose them if you two don't shut it," Toyla interrupted, silencing them both as they hid. Once they saw the Darkling walk pass. They slowly walk in the other direction. "Where did you find them?"

"Near the entrance to some caves but that was nowhere close to where it had been marked on the map," Mal said in disbelief.

"Let me guess there was a river or some pond close by," Nikolai asked. Mal nodded. "But how could you know, it wasn't marked on the map." Nikolai shrugged. You must have taken them and brought them to his crew. "Now, we just need to find the entrance to the fountain," water splashed nearby. "Give me one moment," he said to the rest of them as he took the map and walked towards the water.

Tamar and Alina followed him. He kneeled down. "Yes," he asked, looking at the water. You slowly lifted your head and swam to where he was kneeling. He held up the map. Mal and Toyla joined the rest. Alina lifted her palms up as Toyla readied his weapon. "You are here and the entrance is here," now they could see the scales coating your arms, along with the tail.

All of them were thinking the same. You're a siren and you're helping them.

Thanks for reading! If you want a part 2 leave a like or comment

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #s&b netflix #s&b show #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone s2 #shadow and bone x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #alina shadow and bone #mal oretsev #malyen oretsev #mal shadow and bone #tamar kir bataar #tolya yul bataar #tolya and tamar #zoya nazyalensky #shadow & bone #grishaverse #sturmhond #sturmhond x reader #sturmhond x you #nikolai lanstov x y/n #siren au #pirates of the caribbean #fountain of youth

[fiddleabout]

(previously on the fabulous adventures of sun summoner ava and the druskelle who’s gonna fall in love with her)

It’s their third day of walking, from one whaling shelter to another, and so far Ava has learned that the druskelle is fastidious to the point of absurdity, that she sleeps on her left side-- potentially due to the cruel burn scar that Ava had seen on the first night, in spite of the way they had both burrowed deep under their respective bearskins until their clothes dried; it starts below her ribcage on her right side and snakes down past her hip, terminating in a splotchy discoloration halfway down her thigh-- that she sleeps light but pretends not to wake up when Ava wiggles closer in the middle of the night for warmth and starts each morning with a set of fifty pushups, and that she’s proven herself impressively immune to Ava’s charming habit of chattering to fill the silence.  

She still doesn’t know her name.

Ava’s halfway into a hilarious story-- in Fjerdan, just to irritate the druskelle-- about when she and Diego had managed to prank Frances at the orphanage with an elaborate plot involving a rabbit snare, a basket full of fresh mushrooms, and a piece of twine stolen from the kitchens.  She’s taken a detour in her rambling, away from Keramzin and towards her first and only experience in the unsea, stowing away on a skiff in a desperate attempt to keep her little brother safe, and has been on an impressively colorful five-minutes-and-building rant about how the First Army had treated the both of them after her powers became known.  She can feel her own frustration building, at the situation and at the druskelle and at the darkling, when the druskelle speaks for the first time in hours.

“--and then the lieutenant, that cunt--”

“Should you really refer to your commanding officer so crassly?”  

Ava nearly trips at the sound of her voice.  It’s melodious and soft, her accent rounded warmly.  The other druskelle on the ship had sharper accents, thinner edges to their vowels: a Djerholm accent, urban and rich, the accent of the children of nobility plucked for elite service.  This druskelle, though, has a quiet, rural accent that differentiates her from the rest of the druskelle as her dark hair and eyes had differentiated her from the rest of Fjerda.

“She speaks,” Ava manages to say after a split second.  “And here I was thinking that the druskelle had made you take a vow of silence.”

“I speak,” she echoes thinly.  “Only when there is something worth speaking to.  Such as insubordination.”

“Don’t tell me you’re concerned with me respecting a Ravkan lieutenant.”

“You are a soldier, even if you are a witch,’ she says.  She steps around a patch of snow that looks exactly like the rest, and Ava follows automatically.  “Soldiers should respect their commanding officers.”

“Well,” Ava says grandly.  “Forgive me for not agreeing to let my brother get sent to slaughter.  Some of us have beating hearts instead of unwavering obedience to work with.”

The druskelle doesn’t respond.  She continues hiking, and Ava nearly drops the bearskin she’d hauled with her for the last two days, wrapped around her shoulders like the druskelle’s cloak is wrapped around her own.  An irritation builds in her stomach, itching and impossible to ignore.  

“Hey,” she says sharply.  “What should I have done, then?  What would you have done if it was your brother?”

“I never had a brother,” the druskelle says without hesitation.

“Fine, play with semantics,” Ava says, unwilling to give up.  She hitches the bearskin higher around her shoulders and scrambles after her.  “Someone you love.  Your best friend.  Your mother--”

“My parents threw me out,” the druskelle says.  She turns abruptly, quick enough that Ava nearly falls on her ass trying to stop from barrelling into her.  “They took me on a carriage out into the wilderness and left me there.  When I tried to go home, my entire village had been destroyed by an inferni.  My parents burned in their beds.”

Ava stares at her, the bearskin heavy at her shoulders.  She’d grown up in Keramzin, meaningless and unimportant and dreaming like all orphans do about parents who loved her, a mother and a father who would love her if they were still alive.  It had never occurred to her, a war orphan whose only memory of her parents was them trying to protect her when the war spilled into their town, that there were parents who might cast their children aside.

“I am druskelle to protect Fjerda,” the druskelle says, fury snapping in her dark eyes.  “To protect other children from losing their families to witchcraft.  From people like you.”

“To protect people from me,” Ava says slowly.  “People like your parents, who threw you away?”

The druskelle’s jaw clenches, muscles in her neck working in stark lines, faint freckles dark against the flush of anger spreading across her cheeks.  “I became druskelle to honor them in their death as I should have when they lived,” she says, voice shaking with anger.  

“You hunt people who just want to exist so you can honor people who abandoned you in the woods?” Ava shoves at her shoulder.  It’s weak-- she’s exhausted, and hasn’t eaten in two days, and the druskelle has broad shoulders and powerful arms that Ava has become more familiar with than she’d ever want to, thanks to the Fjerdan cold and the unheated huts they’ve been forced to sleep in, and she barely flinches with the effort.  Ava slams a fist into her shoulder, stubborn and unwilling to give up.  “I never wanted to be grisha.  I didn’t ask to be this.  I just wanted to keep my brother safe and then--”

A groan snaps through the air, and she cuts off when the druskelle’s eyes go wide.  There’s a split second when she’s about to pick up her anger and keep ranting, and then the world cracks below her feet and she falls.

She slams into the side of the crevasse, her shoulder nearly dislocating and an aching pressure around her wrist.  Her face crashes into the ice of the ravine when her momentum stops, and she lets out a pained noise through gritted teeth before looking up.

Above her the druskelle is flat on her stomach, both hands closed tight around Ava’s wrist, and they both freeze.  Ava hangs from her grip, her entire body aching as it hangs from the druskelle’s hands.  She could drop Ava, could just let go and let her fall into the unending dark below her, leave her here to die alone and cold in the middle of the wilderness, and no one would ever find her.  The druskelle who killed the sun summoner, a hero to the Fjerdan people for killing the first hope the Ravkan people have had in four centuries..  

Ava hangs in her hands and finds the same desperate need to live, the one that had burst out of her when a volcra’s claws had latched onto her on the deck of the skiff and tried to pull her away from Diego, crawling up her throat.  Sunlight warms under her skin, but sunlight won’t save her here.

“Please,” she says, aching and scared.  The unwavering grip on her arm aches, radiating beautifully down her arm, the only thing keeping her alive.  “Please.”

The druskelle stares down at her, hands still tight around her wrist, and Ava watches her eyes narrow and shoulders somehow square even as she lays half-hanging over the edge of the ravine, and then, suddenly, she pulls.  

Ava’s shoulder screams, the joint protesting the tension it’s under, until she can get her other arm up and gripping at the druskelle’s wrist and square up her weight.  It’s only half a minute, maybe, before Ava is able to reach up and latch onto the druskelle’s arm to help pull herself the rest of the way up and crawl over the edge, sprawl onto the snow, but it feels like an eternity.  Her body aches with the effort, but she collapses onto her side next to the druskelle and then rolls onto her back, gasping and shaking and staring at the cold gray sky.  

Next to her, the druskelle flops onto her back as well, and Ava’s head rolls to the side to stare at her profile and the way her chest is heaving.

“Beatrice,” the druskelle says eventually.  “My name is Beatrice.”

Ava keeps staring at her, at the straight line of her nose and the arc of her cheekbone and the sweep of her jaw.  The druskelle who saved her life.  Beatrice.

“Beatrice,” she echoes after too long staring.  She speaks carefully, testing the way the name feels in her mouth.  “I’m Ava.”

Beatrice’s head tilts to the side, precise and meticulous, until she can look at Ava.  Her dark eyes are unreadable but her mouth is soft and uncertain, and Ava fights the urge to shift closer and curl herself into Beatrice’s side.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”  Beatrice drags one arm up and offers it awkwardly across the space between them, and Ava meets her in the middle without thinking about it.  Her hand is warm, somehow, despite the cold they’re lost in; her palm calloused and her thumb folding carefully over the back of Ava’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Beatrice,” Ava finally says.

Ava means to let go, but her hand lingers.  Beatrice doesn’t let go either, and Ava can barely feel the cold seeping through her kefta-- the bearskin had fallen away, lost into the ravine-- for long seconds before Beatrice pulls her hand free and stands up, only to offer it back to Ava and pull her up to her feet.

Wordlessly, Beatrice strips her cloak off and wraps it around Ava’s shoulders.  She fastens the clasp and her knuckles brush against Ava’s throat, and a warmth that has nothing to do with her summoning spreads through Ava.

#s2 of s&b was all over the place but it has been jarring my feelings about #grishava #writing tag #warrior #ava silva #sister beatrice #sun summoner ava and the druskelle who fell in love with her: a fic by me that will probs never be fully written #though who knows #trying to shake off the cobwebs for chef au and needed a palate cleanser

[lassieposting]

So anyway

I finished S2 firmly like "Nikolai and Kirigan should've been friends". Because they want the same fuckin things. They both want to end Grisha persecution, they both want to improve Ravka, they both want to end Lantsov corruption, they're both military, they're both willing to fight on the front lines or sacrifice for their people. Nikolai would've served under Kirigan during his military service, and seen him at court besides. They'd absolutely have hit it off.

But then I found out that Nikolai/Kirigan is actually a ship in this fandom. And I kind of get it? But mostly I'm cackling at the idea that like.

Nikolai is That Kid. The one that's like "I have a crush and I'm going to make it everyone else's problem."

It's like, a cute little hero-worship thing, at first? He's at that age where he's allowed to sit in on court proceedings, because even though he's the spare he's still expected to learn how to rule, and he's either just started his own military service or he's just about to, and unlike Vasily, he's proud to serve his country. And Kirigan is? Someone to look up to. Ravka has been at war for longer than Nikolai has been alive, besieged on all sides, and he knows that it's not his father the king who's keeping the Shu Han and the Fjerdans at bay. It's not Vasily, who's in his twenties now and would rather fritter away the country's coin on whores and horses than ever set foot on a battlefield. It's General Kirigan.

And - well, and the other chap, the First Army General in West Ravka, but Nikolai has never met him.

And like. Nikolai is a little people-pleaser. When he thinks of himself as king - which he knows is unlikely to happen, and he knows he shouldn't wish for it in the first place because the only way he'd ever get the throne is if something terrible happened to Vasily, he knows - but when he thinks of himself as king, he wants to think he'd be a good one. A benevolent one, who'd make life better for the common people and not just his own family. He pictures himself as a brave, respected leader of men. Independent. Strong-willed, driven, self-assured. Handsome. He pictures himself as someone like General Kirigan.

(He'll admit that, one day - the image he had of the Black General growing up, as the hero archetype a king ought to be - and Kirigan - Aleksander, by that point - will laugh himself stupid and say, "You're an appalling judge of character. There's too much monster in me to make much of a king." And maybe that's true - he knows Aleksander's done some terrible things, what soldier hasn't in war? - but he's Nikolai's monster, and Ravka's, keeping invaders away from their borders and assassins away from Nikolai's private rooms, so he'd argue that perhaps that's not entirely a bad thing.)

And, well, he gets a little older, and discovers that people are attractive, and childish hero-worship develops into full-blown hormone-addled teenage puppy love and. He's not subtle about it, like, at all.

It's like...Father invites the General to eat with the family one evening after a late meeting, and Nikolai bribes Vasily to switch seats so he can spend the evening charming his hero with his wit and maturity. What actually happens is that he goes all shy and mostly just Yearns™ across the table while all the adults present delicately ignore the moon-eyed elephant in the room.

He has a servant take some of his favourite books on military history over to the Little Palace, in case the General might like them, because he's fairly sure the Grand Palace library is..well...grander...than the Little Palace library. It literally does not occur to him how patronizing that is coming from a spotty sixteen-year-old with net zero victories to his name. He knows Kirigan must be a bit older than he looks - he swore the Grisha to the crown when Nikolai's grandfather was on the throne - but he has no idea that Kirigan served in the wars the books were written about.

When he's a little older and has more time to himself, he starts dropping in to visit at the Little Palace, which...isn't really the done thing, for some reason - none of his family ever have much call to visit outside of official events - but? Who's going to say no to the tsarevich? He has a tendency for a while to pop up wherever Kirigan is working and pelt him with enthusiastic questions - why did you form the Second Army? When did you build the Little Palace? Why do you bring all the Grisha to live here? Where did you grow up? What's the Cut? Can I see it? Why have you never brought your family to court? Do you have a family? Is there no Lady Kirigan? How long did it take you to make General? What did you do to get promoted?

Kirigan is polite. He answers harmless questions as honestly as he thinks he safely can - which lowkey affects how Nikolai's political opinions end up differing from his family's, because it turns out the General makes a lot of good points about how badly Grisha were and are treated outside the Little Palace, and it's not really Nikolai's place to have opinions on how his father rules but he thinks they should not be treated like that, maybe - deflects personal ones, entertains Nikolai's interest in strategy when he's in a good mood, gives him some harmless busywork tasks to do so he feels useful and lets Kirigan get actual work done. He's a bit flattered, even, that the boy sees him as a role model, because it's surprisingly easy to forget how impressive your military career has been, even in just this "lifetime", when all most people ever see when they look at you is the big bad scary Darkling. But at some point Nikolai does something stupid - tries to kiss him, gets too familiar, idk, he's like 17 and horny - that makes it blatantly obvious that he's misreading indulgence as interest, and Kirigan has to slam up some boundaries sharpish. Nikolai starts finding Fedyor posted outside the war room to tell him cheerfully that he's sorry, but the General is very busy and can't be disturbed.

(Fedyor and Ivan have been finding the blatant crush highly entertaining. Kirigan hasn't - he's fucking cringing on the inside - but he tolerates the subtle teasing from his heartrenders with something approaching good grace.)

Anyway, Nikolai grows up, spends years at a time away from the Grand Palace, has a pretty successful military career with the First Army and then amuses himself by turning privateer and fleecing the Fjerdans as Sturmhond. He grows up enough to realise how deeply cringey he was for a few years there, because he's gone through something similar with an overeager young deckhand who had a real thing for the Sturmhond persona. He's not far off thirty when Father has a heart attack and Vasily has a horse racing accident not long after and Nikolai finds himself recalled to Ravka to take the throne. He has to work closely with Kirigan, which suits him fine, because not only do they have compatible plans for Ravka, it turns out that as adult men on equal footing, they get on like a house on fire, and can even joke about his awkward younger self. And if he happens to...cross some conventions of propriety...well, he's old enough to know his own mind, and he's had it off with enough of his own crew to know how to balance a professional relationship and a personal one. Kirigan understands grief, understands pressure, understands having countless lives in your hands and no way to save all of them, and Saints know Nikolai needs to lean on someone, because Mother's too beside herself to have his fears and hurts on her shoulders too.

(Kirigan - Aleksander - understands that, too. Difficult mothers. Nikolai is learning all sorts of things about his General these days)

Actually you know what I've talked myself into the ship. This was supposed to just be a short post about the comedy potential of long-suffering Darkles dealing with a pampered princeling's obvious crush but have some headcanons instead bc all aboard the HMS Darkolai I guess

#sab headcanons #darkolai #nikolai lantsov #aleksander kirigan #i have not read the books and i am entirely fudging the timeline #but yeah ugh i was so hoping these two would vibe and get along #sab

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Keep You Near - Tolya Yul Baraar

This one, this one was due to a car ride conversation and won't leave my mind so.

Content Warnings: Canon Compliant Threat, Violence And Injury. Not Beta/Proof Read, We Die Like Men.

The job was meant to be simple enough, especially given you were being sent on it with Tolya and Tamar, two of Sturmhond's finest, arguably the finest he has to offer, and the most adept to violence if the need arose. Each as much as a threat with their weaponry of choice as they are as Heartrender's.

You had boundless trust in the twins, not just from the way Tolya moved with such certainty despite the treelike stature, you cannot help but recall all the times you had known exactly whom anyone was referring to by the expression "the giant with the golden eyes."

It wasn't even the way in which you fully believed Tamar could and would likely take down the entire Fjerdan Army over as little as a spilled drink or out of line comment about her natural born gifts. A fight you had no doubt she would win.

It was down to the simple fact of trust, in the time you had spent with the twins, the eagerness to fight, the resilience of their nature and the power of their skills with both their gifts and weaponry was not what had you believing in them. But their unwavering loyalty.

One of the crew aboard the Volkvolny had described Tamar once as "the most trigger happy woman" he had ever met. You thought that sentiment did her a misjustice, for all of Tamar's willingness to fight she did not out of a sheer desire for violence, it was always with reason, maybe not always a perfectly agreeable reason her brother would often argue but a reason nonetheless.

As for Tolya, you had come to believe there was nothing he was not capable or willing to do in the name of his faith and his loyalty. You'd never known someone so fiercely devoted as the bare armed giant.

He had no death wish, that many of the crew you'd seen before have had, but he wasn't unwilling to die for what he believed in, and you admired that, even if it scared you in ways you could not express, to depths of your soul which whispered quiet concerns in the emptiness of conversation.

You would willingly lay down your lives for either of them, and you knew that to be true, but there was something in the way you feared Tolya coming to harm that made missions like this, with just the three of you increasingly difficult.

Tolya offers you a grin and you're brought back to the moment, for all his size and skill, Tolya possessed a softness and a kindness you would have never expected from such a man.

You understood why those who did not have the pleasure of knowing him as personally as you, would fear such a giant. His stature alone was enough to be threatening, and then his sword which remains unholstered besides the looming risk it presents. But knowing him as you do, it is the poet within the warrior that you see above all.

"This is where I advise we part ways," Tamar comments looking at the fork in the path ahead. "Not least of all because I can sense Tolya is about to start reciting and I cannot fathom a worse pastime right now."

This is the part of the plan you like least of all, the part in which for the remaining sunlight you shall part into separate groups.

Before you manage to get a word out Tamar just gives you a large smile. "Enjoy my brothers company, and try not to run into trouble, I hate to think of you having fun without me," she says.

"See you by dusk sister," Tolya says, watching her eager to get out of here. Once she is out of earshot Tolya gives you a small sideways smile. "She was right, I was about to start."

"I do not mind," you remind him. "I quite enjoy your poetry."

The stop at the boarding house was entirely unplanned, the journey should have been straight on until you two reached the market and likely had Tamar waiting for you both, acting as if she had won some imaginary race.

But things had not gone according to plan.

You knew Tamar had volunteered for the path in which she took because she believed it to be the most dangerous path of the two to take, meaning that if anyone was likely to get attacked during the mission, it would've been her and she could have had the joy of a fight for the first time in a while. But as likely as the odds had favoured that outcome, it was yourself and Tolya that had run into trouble.

A few Fjerdan's much further south than you'd ever seen them to be, and a few mercenaries looking to make a quick Kruge where the Fjerdan's failed. One of those would've been easy enough to deal with, between your combined skills and training, but back to back fighting the arsenal of the Drüskelle and then the numbers of the mercenaries, it was a unfair fight to say the least.

An unfair fight that had left you with likely broken ribs and a contemptible cut across your forehead that seemed to continue to bleed no matter how much you tried to attend to it. Which admittedly is not as much as it needed with your focus being elsewhere, for all your injuries you had sustained against the attack, Tolya had sustained worse ones in an attempt to keep you safe. A fact you were not letting slip by unnoticed.

With no Corporalki Healers in any kind of distance, and only the one Otkazat'sya at the boarding house that has remotely any knowledge of true healing, barely even a boy in age. There is no way to let Tamar know what has happened, and your only option is to allow Tolya, who despite the haze of pain and faded consciousness, is insisting you needn't worry about him, to have some time to heal in the way the body intended. Slowly.

Once you had paid for a room, and twice as much for silence on the two of you being there, you had gotten Tolya to lay down, which between the sheer size of him and his repeatedly insistence that he can continue to the ride, was no easy task.

Now lain with his shoulders against the bedpost, making it only comically more obvious that this bed was simply far too small to hold him, his eyes find yours again, as you are emptying out supplies looking for any kind of remedy or assistance that may have been hidden away inside the satchels you'd been carrying.

"You are worrying too much," Tolya insists, but you can hear the pain as he breathes in, the way it is a struggle to get the sentences out. You cannot help but worry that you must keep him away for at least a little while longer, to be sure that if he falls asleep he will in fact wake again.

"Tolya, tell me a poem," you insist, trying to keep him engaged, trying to keep him aware so you can focus on the task of treating him. Trying to keep your mind from wandering back into a memory, from how quickly and without thought Tolya put himself between you and the danger. Like it was nothing. Like it was second nature. Like there had been no other option but to do so. And just how quickly that had got him knocked to the ground. You try not to think of how your heart stopped in the moments where you weren't sure he would make it. How you're still not convinced he might make it. How if he doesn't make it, he will have died to save you. You try to push that thought as far from your mind as you can, but it is ringing out in your mind like the a message from the Saints.

"It’s time, my friend: it’s time! The heart wants rest –," he begins.

"Maybe not this poem," your voice cannot withhold it's tremble. But he doesn't seem to hear you through the fog of his own pain and the feeling of his mind slipping into unconsciousness.

"the days slip by, the hours take away

fragments of our life: and you and I," he continues. As long as it keeps him awake, as long as it keeps him awake, you tell yourself over and over.

"plan how to live and, – just like that – we die.

No happiness on land, yet there’s freedom, peace.

I’ve long dreamt of an enviable fate –

I’ve long thought, a weary slave, to fly

to some far place of labour and true joy," he finishes and he must be able to feel your eyes boring into him, and the sound of your heart threatening to tear its way out of your chest to aid him in any way you can. He laughs and tries to hide the wince as he does.

"You cannot die now, koja, because you cannot leave me on that poem," you don't even realise you've said it.

"Everyone mourns the first blossom. Who will weep for the rest that fall? I will remain to sing for you, long after the spring has gone," Tolya whispers, his voice so quiet is sends a ice cold wind of fear right through your blood and into your bones.

"Kebben’a," you say quietly, recognising this one. You pull out a small glass vial from one of the satchel pockets and thank the Saints that there was some kind of elixir to be found.

You recognise from the colour and the vials stopper shape that it was not exactly meant for injuries like Tolya's, being a low level assistant to healing and a medium strength painkiller, but your grateful for it regardless.

You hand him the vial and he drinks it. "Now that won't do massive amounts but at least it'll help," you say, more for your own benefit than his. You still cannot tell exactly how severe the injuries are, and Tolya is ever insistent on hiding it.

"I am not in need of your courage right now Tolya," you say, moving to sit beside him, "I am in need of your honour and your honesty, I cannot help you without knowing just how badly you are hurt."

"Not so badly," he says, but his voice is still quiet. It crosses your mind that with injury and pain like this he may not even remember most of it come tomorrow. The blanks in memory when it comes to injury are usually a gift, a measure to protect yourself from the intensity.

But you know even if he was to forget what he had done for you today, you never could.

"You needn't have thrown yourself towards the mercenary like that," you say matching the quietness of his voice.

"He was not unsteady," Tolya says between a laboured breath, "he likely would've killed you."

"He nearly killed you," you remind him, allowing your voice to carry more loudly with this sentiment. "And where would that have left me?"

"He didn't" Tolya reminds you.

"If you're improved by morning," you start, "then I will ride ahead and let Tamar-,"

"No," he whispers, the relief from the elixir taking affect but bringing some well needed sleep with it, "stay."

"I will return," you say.

"Please stay," he insists. "I want you to stay with me."

You doubt he is lucid enough now to be much aware of what he is saying, and you're almost grateful because if he could notice the way your heart was hammering in your chest there is no way you would be able to hide how you feel any longer. There would be no denying anything with the way your heart is calling to him now.

"You want me to stay with you?" You ask. "Now?"

"Always," he says, the whisper turning into a mumble, he reaches out and grabs a hold of your arm gently, lacing his fingers around you, as if to be sure to keep you near. "But especially now."

The room falls quiet as Tolya finally gives into the sleep. You do not rest, making sure to keep a close eye on him, his breathing, his heart.

It's a miracle you can hear it over the sound of your own. But you must stay awake, to be sure, to make sure he is healing, improving.

Not that you could sleep if you wanted to, with the racing of your mind. His grip on your arm is not tight but it also doesn't waver in his slumber even once. "Moi sol ye tselai," you whisper, "I will stay, for as long as you want me to, I will stay." Even though he is asleep you daren't say the last part aloud.

Eya fyela chi.

For as long as you shall live.

#shadow and bone #six of crows #tolya #tolya x reader #tolya yul bataar #grishaverse #Spotify

[qqueenofhades]

I don’t know if you’re currently taking any sort of ficlet writing prompts, but this popped into my head earlier. Fedyor to Ivan as newly graduated grisha trying to figure out where they stand with each other after having spent all of training hating each other, “you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid and don’t you dare deny it”

It is a sad but common fact of Fedyor Kaminsky's life that Ivan Sakharov absolutely loathes him. This isn't exactly news, because as far as anyone can tell, Ivan Sakharov absolutely loathes everyone. The tall, skinny, angry northern kid from Chernast with a permanent chip on his shoulder and an apparently pathological aversion to making friends, taking it easy, or even smiling at anyone in the dining hall or the dormitories, ever. Even the other junior Heartrenders, including Fedyor, think he's a little much, and they tend to start conversations with any of their fellow trainees by apologizing for whatever Ivan did to them all yesterday. It's an oddly common currency for cross-Order friendships at the Little Palace. Who knew.

The thing is, which Fedyor doesn't get, is that Ivan seems to especially hate him. This doesn't make sense, because Fedyor is about as friendly and outgoing as a Heartrender can possibly be (maybe that's why he's so offensive to Mr. Doom of the World over there?) He can get along with almost anyone, he's the only one who has attempted to stand up for Ivan when the rest of his friends are bagging on him, and it just seems unlikely that of all the fledgling Grisha, Fedyor is somehow the most intolerable. It bothers him, not least because the two of them have had what you might call moments. A few of them. From time to time. It's hard to tell with Ivan and his complete inability to grasp basic human emotion, but still.

Now, however, it's the celebration for the newly minted Grisha cadets, allowed an evening of drink, food, and revelry before they're all packed off to the Fjerdan frontlines tomorrow and get to prove how much that training was actually worth by whether they stay alive. Fedyor has been enjoying it with his friends, raising toasts and convinced, as every young soldier is, that they're in fact immortal. But he's also taken note of Ivan sitting in a corner and glaring at everyone daring to do something so heretical as enjoy a party, and after his third cup of wine, Fedyor sees no need to put up with it. He gets to his feet, brushes off the heavy new black-embroidered red kefta that they all officially get to wear, and marches over. "Sakharov."

Ivan eyes him up and down, chewing his tongue. There is a very long pause. Then he snaps, "Kaminsky."

"Look at us." Fedyor, displaying more bravery than the entire Second Army combined, flops himself down directly in Ivan's lap. He is running a real risk of being the first casualty of the autumn campaign, but while a muscle leaps in Ivan's cheek at this unbearable familiarity, he doesn't actually try to murder Fedyor on the spot, and therefore Fedyor knows in smug vindication that he is, in fact, correct. "We're real soldiers now and everything."

"Get off," Ivan says, after several moments too long, "my lap."

"Actually? No." Fedyor snuggles closer. "Because you want to know what I think, Sakharov? I think you secretly like me. More than that, I think you want to fuck me. So bad that it makes you look stupid."

Ivan stares at him. Fedyor stares at himself (you know, metaphorically). Even with three cups of liquid courage, that is more than he has ever pushed it before, and he winces and braces himself for his heart to abruptly stop. Still, it doesn't. Ivan's muscles are coiled as tightly as steel wire. His gaze flicks over Fedyor's head at the other partying young Grisha -- who, probably for their own welfare, haven't noticed anything. He doesn't move for a final instant. The entire world hangs and waits.

Then, all at once, Ivan gets up with a jerk, dumping Fedyor ignominiously off his lap and onto the floor. Fedyor hits with a thump, too surprised to catch himself, but he doesn't have long to wait. Ivan reaches down, seizes him by the wrist, and yanks him to his feet. "Fine, then," he says, in a growl that should not excite Fedyor nearly as much as it does, but here they are. "Come on and stop talking."

(Fedyor moves all his clothes and belongings into Ivan's room two weeks later. Ivan gets back and discovers it already finished, grumbles helplessly for a few hours, and then gives in. They have been together ever since.)

#anonymous #ask #heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #this has been sitting in my inbox a while (apologies) #but the fivan gifset earlier made me go 'yknow. reasons.' #i also have the other one (possibly also from you?) about their wedding night #which i meant to do a while ago and then uh #did not (again apologies) #we will see

[ignyxdaughter]

𝐗𝐈𝐗 - 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍

(𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 /𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐱 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧)

MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

A/N: English is not my first language. I’m gonna mix the books and the tv show to make the story line clearer (I read soc, the grisha trilogy and its tales). I don’t own Shadow and Bone and TO/Legacies characters; they’re, respectively, Leigh Bardugo, L. J. Smith and Julie Plec. Also, this is how I think the Darkling is,and some of the events will be changed due to the story's course!

words: 2873

warnings: mentions of witch/grisha hunt

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

They are now cuddled, both their backs resting on the Black Heretic's fountain while gazing at the woods. The witch rests her head on the Grisha's chest, hearing the calming rhythm of his heartbeat. Him, on the other hand, lets his thumb caress her arm.

This is all so new to them, so... peaceful. It seems like a weight has left their shoulders as soon as they found equality in each other, the desire of wanting someone to understand them finally fulfilled.

"So—", Katherine's soothing voice breaks the comfort silence "what made you change your mind?"

Kirigan doesn't take his eyes off the tree he's been looking at for the past minutes. He is still enjoying the fantastic sensation of believing that everything is going to be alright now. "I started to think about what you had said. The Second Army is young, none of them have experienced the Ravka before the Fold. They have the idea that the Unsea is the issue, and that all of Ravka's problems will be solved once it vanishes. However, it is the complete opposite: if we destroy it, things will worsen." She nods, patiently waiting for him to continue. "There is no way to guard the entire border, therefore, Ravka will be exposed to many travelers. The Fjerdans and Shu Hans will take advantage of the country's vulnerability and attack. The drüskelle will have more access to accomplish their hunts too." He turns to the woman by his side, who is gazing at him since he started speaking. "Grishas will be in great danger if the Fold is destroyed."

"The Supernaturals too."

"Ravka will be no more safe haven."

"No, it won't."

"Also—", he takes a sharp breath to gather forces to tell her his conclusion "you were right."

The shadow singer's smile almost reaches her eyes. Oh, how she loves to be told that! No matter how many times that often happens, the pride feeling filling her chest always appears. "Pardon? I don't think I quite heard you."

"I won't repeat myself, Katherine."

"Why not?" Her smirk increases as she sees him scowl towards her. "Your words had such a beautiful sound."

He rolls his eyes. "You are not used to hearing that, I assume."

"Oh, no—", she chuckles. "I am more than used to it. After all, I am always right."

"If people see Alina's powers expanding the Fold, they will label Grishas as aberrations again." He ignores her to continue his line of thought. "Another hunt will be made and, with the Unsea blocking the borders, it'll be difficult to escape. The only way to protect ourselves will be killing all the hunters, which will practically be almost all otkazat'sya."

Ravka will be the stage of a massacre, the unsaid words float through the air. All due to the fight for survival.

"I want my country to be a safe haven, not a remembrance of a bloodshed."

Katherine's gaze softens in compassion. She shares that wish with him; she wants the Grishas and Ravka's Supernaturals to see their country as a secure place where they cannot fear. It would be wonderful if Os Alta transformed into what New Orleans is to many: home.

"Although living now more peacefully, your people still dread, Kirigan. Even receiving all the trainment in the world, there is still the terrifying thought of being attacked by the drüskelle and losing a fight with them. That fear will only grow if they witness a magical imbalance, especially one made by their General. Your Army will work based on dread instead on loyalty, and that is dangerous, because, soon, they will grow tired of feeling this." Her light green eyes are full of worry as she looks at him deeply. "This happened a lot through the centuries, and it always ended with the leader murdered by his own people."

"I know. I searched about those historical revolutions." Her eyebrows raise in surprise to see The Darkling agreeing. "Most of them were because the monarchy prioritized the court instead of the commoners, which were the majority. Only a few people had good life conditions, while the plurality suffered with poor ones. They got sick of injustice and repression, tired of having to survive to make others live. They wanted that possibility for themselves, so, after generations had passed and nothing had been done, they decided to fight for it."

"I witnessed some revolutions and that is what happened, indeed."

"I have lived the conditions of these commoners." Kirigan admits with a heavy chest. Sometimes, he is still affected with the memories of his tough childhood. He used to eat poorly, suffer from the cold, fear the dark when the night came, train for straight exhausting hours in order to learn how to control his powers, have to make new identities in a short period of time, and pass through many other unpleasant experiences. "It was terrible."

The sudden warm hand on his cheek tells him that he is not alone, that Katherine has suffered the same as him and as the many unfortunate people that were part of revolutions. "Survival isn't life, Kirigan. But it is just when you are old that you learn that the change will only come if you fight for it. That's why your Grishas are so immersed in the Fold's utopia: their youthness makes them believe that the time has finally come, that Alina will be the savior to fix all the problems." She offers him a sad smile. "My people are old and are struggling to live in Os Alta poorest area. One of the reasons why they hate your lightscum is this, since she represents all the illusion they had once believed."

"So they are willing to fight for change?"

She nods. "With all of their strength."

"If I promise better life conditions, will an alliance be possible?"

"Only if you guarantee that you have no intentions to destroy the Unsea. Firstly, you have to win their trust, especially the leaders' trust, then you may focus on a deal."

He gently grabs her hand that still is on his cheek. "I think I'll need a bit of your assistance, then."

The witch smirks as soon as she sees the glint on his dark brown eyes. "It will be my pleasure."

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

"I swear it was her, Genya!" Michelle stops on her tracks as she hears Alina's voice echo through the room she was entering to clean.

"That's impossible."

"No, it isn't, and you know it!"

The Tailor shakes her head, making many of her red strands fly in the air. "Ms. Anya was playing a dangerous game here, Alina. The Darkling saw her as a threat and sent the oprichniki after her. She's probably dead now."

The Sun Summoner's brown eyes widened in shock. "Dead?"

"Yes." No. Michelle had to restrain a scoff. "I honestly think she was a spy."

"A spy? Really?"

"She knew too much for an ordinary otkazat'sya."

While starting to tie the room where the two Grishas were, Michelle began to make her own opinions. They aren't completely wrong: this specific servant knew too much and was considered by the General himself a threat, which led him to hunt her. However, she is pretty much alive, or better, Katherine Mikaelson is alive. No one knows what happened to Ms. Anya, she just... vanished.

"But, Genya, I swear I saw her today!" The blond's body stills as she cleans a desk. "Are you sure about that all? She seemed so real."

"There's no way Ms. Anya isn't dead, Alina. You probably were tired and hallucinated."

The younger girl looks deeply at the other, brown eyes meeting blue ones. "I know what I saw. Ms. Anya was at the beginning of the woods early this morning. She was hidden, but I saw her looking at Kirigan's chambers."

Oh, damn it, Katherine! You let yourself get caught by a teenager?! Michelle's face instantly turns into a scowl due to the anger she is feeling towards her cousin. By the Ancestors, Kat, you really turn into a fool when you like someone!

The Tailor takes a few seconds to answer her friend, but, finally, she shrugs her off with a hand. "I still think it's nothing to worry about."

I hope so, Genya, because I'm gonna kill Katherine if she drags the family into another trouble with insane plans.

The water singer leaves the Sun Summoner's chambers with heavy steps. As a way to calm herself, she goes to her little room and begins to read one of the books she had picked early in the morning. It is written in French, which eases her off with the thought of being close to her native language, and the author describes actions that may help people who are suffering with memory loss. After all, Michelle isn't certain that a spell will recover all of Agatha's remembrances.

Former lovers who had a long and healthy relationship with the victim may trigger good memories. However, the paramour must reproduce habits that were performed frequently during the time they were a couple.

Her blue eyes widened in sudden realization. There is someone that can aid them.

Of course, she didn't talk to Agatha's ex-lover for decades, but she had a good relationship with her; every Mikaelson — unless Katherine — had. The woman is a mesmerizing person and powerful witch, always willing to help the Supernatural. Michelle is sure that if she sends her a letter explaining about Agatha's current situation, the woman will appear in Os Alta in less than a day.

The water singer closes the book with a smile and immediately stands up. She needs to tell Katherine her new idea, but if her cousin takes too long to arrive, then she will handle the matter in her own hands.

With that in mind, the blond confidently states: "If there's any of Kat's shadows here, tell her to meet me at the Little Palace's library now."

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

Hours had passed, and the couple had to go back to their respective places. After Kirigan had just left with his horse, Katherine was almost entering a shadow to go to Praecantrix when she heard Ikatris' smooth voice: Your cousin wants you at the Little Palace's library now. Seemed urgent.

She frowns with the unusual situation and mentally asks the dark figure: Which one?

The spoiled French.

Despite knowing patience isn't one of Michelle's virtues, she can't help but worry, her intuition wanting to alert that something is about to happen. However, as an attempt to ignore this uncomfortable feeling, the witch rolls her light green eyes at the shadow's answer. You know their names, Ikatris. So why do you insist on calling them with these nicknames?

She can almost feel the creature smirking. Because it irritates them.

Katherine can't help but chuckle. Her cousins indeed hate all of Ikatris' nicknames and always tell her to talk to the shadow in order to make him stop, however, it never worked. He is immediately delighted as he sees Hope — manic tribid — sends him a death glare, Michelle — spoiled French — huffs in impatience, Nick — justice alpha — rolls his eyes in annoyance, Agatha — dramatic queen — holding the urge to attack him, and Levi — Kol's counterfeit copy — walking away from him to not get into a fight.

Why don't you give me a nickname too? I have never received one from you.

Because you're Katherine, there's no one like you. You are already unique.

She smiles, a warm sensation reverberating in her chest. Thank you, Ikatris.

The witch then orders her shadows to guide her to the Little Palace's library, where she finds Michelle pacing through the Norse Runes book session. She seems nervous, clenching her fingers on the long white skirt, her blond hair that is usually perfect, is now disheveled. "What happened?"

The French woman turns abruptly and looks at her in rage. "You!" She extends her hands towards the brunette as if wanting to strangle her.

Katherine frowns. "What have I done?"

"What have you—" She seems to be using all of her control to not start yelling in fury. "What have you done?!"

The shadow singer seems uncertain of her actions now. Has she found out about Malyen Oretsev? "Yes?"

"You let yourself be seen by Alina!"

The nervousness began to grow in her stomach. "What?"

"Today's morning she saw you in the beginning of the woods, looking at Kirigan's chambers. Is this true?"

Shit.

"I... I, ehm—"

"Damn it, Katherine!"

"I didn't know she was there! I was focused on a more important task!"

Michelle grabs her cousin's shoulders to make her look straight at her. "She's sure Ms. Anya isn't dead, and now I think Genya suspects that too."

The older woman shrugs as an attempt to exhale confidence in order to calm the blond down. "They don't know much, Michelle. I am sure it will do us no harm."

"You were supposed to be the responsible one who fret about things that go out of control, not me!" She lets go of the brunette and crosses her arms, a pout forming on her red lips. "I didn't enjoy this."

"Well, welcome to my life.”

"It sucks."

"I know." Katherine sighs and slowly approaches her frustrated cousin. "But I also know that you wouldn't call my shadows only to yell at me. What happened?"

Her blue eyes face the light green ones. "I have a plan that may work."

"About?"

"Agatha." She passes a hand through her long blond strands, a habit that she does when is restless. "There is someone that may trigger some of her memories, and, maybe, even help with the spell."

"That is wonderful news!"

"Yeah, but not for you."

She raises an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

The water singer looks away, averting her cousin's gaze. "I just want to know that this is the best for Agatha. I would never do anything that could harm her."

If Kathreine wasn't sure why the French woman was acting like that, now she knows: Michelle did the idea before consulting her, the brain of the family and the mastermind behind the plans. "Michelle—"

"And, maybe, I-I've become a little anxious because I haven't found Hope and it was taking too long for you to arrive."

She clenches her teeth, already predicting the enormous trouble she got themselves into. "Michelle—"

"So I took the matter in my own hands before consulting any of you and sent a letter to her."

"Michelle, who did you call?"

She gives her a nervous smile. "The brightest person in this world."

The shadow singer frowns, though her stomach is currently twisting in dread, since it seems that this someone could be a horrible person. "Who?"

"She is just so full of light, you know." Despite continuing to smile, the younger one  begins to hug herself, as if this would protect her from Katherine's reaction.

The realization sinks at the brunette's chest like an anchor. Soliel Alvarez is a light singer witch that was Agatha's paramour for half a century. She is a woman obsessed with power and very practical: get in her way and you will die. For her, time is precious, so, unless it's necessary, she doesn't waste time with torture ceremonies.

Beyond hating shadow singers for their ability to dim her glow, she also hates her own kind. According to her, light singers are people devoid of character and who do not deserve trust or loyalty. For these reasons, she feels no remorse when draining an equal; in fact, she takes satisfaction in seeing their despair as she senses the victim's power entering her veins and thus making her stronger.

For sharing the same thought as her about lightscums, Katherine doesn't hate Soliel, however, she is always careful towards the woman. After all, light singers aren't trustable. The adopted Mikaelson relationship with her is tense, and only Levi knows that his cousin slightly likes Agatha's ex-lover.

Soliel is a difficult person to deal with, someone that will always try to trick you if you aren't aware of her true nature. In other words, she is a brutalest version of the shadow singer, and Katherine isn't in her right mind to meet her. She is already worried with Agatha's cure, about her affair — is that what they have now? — with Kirigan, with Ravka's Supernatural's current situation and with the execution of the coup. Soliel here will only overwhelm her and worsen the emotional weariness she is still feeling.

"You didn't."

Michelle looks at the ground as if it was the most mesmerizing thing in life. "Her and Agatha's relationship was so healthy and ended so well. They're still friends and see each other sometimes!"

The British woman can feel her breathing fasten. "Please tell me you are lying."

"And the book said that a good ex-lover can help on triggering memories, so—"

"Oh, Michelle!"

"—Soliel's coming to Ravka."

Everything stops. The air in her lungs, the frustration, the racing thoughts in her mind and the nervous twisting in her stomach are all gone. Suddenly, the forces in her entire body disappear too. Soon, her clear vision is replaced by the dark and she falls on the floor.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #darkling fic #darkling shadow and bone #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x oc #darkling #darkling x reader #darkling x oc #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan x oc #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x oc #the vampire diaries #the originals #legacies #the mikaelsons

[rotzaprachim]

one thing i’ve thought for a long time is that while i liked the idea of mal and alina running the orphanage it wasn’t something i really bought for either of their characters as an immediate sort of thing, alina especially. (mal being sturmhond now IS in fact about my favorite thing ever.) 

 but the character who i absolutely DO think would find his calling being Dad to a bunch of war orphans and abandoned children? Matthias Helvar. it’s one of the most interesting possible Matthias Lived fallouts to me. like, he absolutely needs a Lot of time to deprogram first and negotiate his own relationship with the world and his religion and relationship with violence, but matthias being a bunch of lil grisha kiddos lame awkward dad hits the sweet spot of being 

a) hilarious 

b) something wildly needed canonically in-universe - whose gonna take care of the grisha kids born into fjerdan culture or their war orphans without the existing requirement that all grisha kids assimilate entirely into ravkan culture and religion and join their army 

c) matthias’s nurturing side is one of the most interesting aspects of his character 

d) something that really engages with his story in terms of the fact that! he was shot by someone younger than him. his story is about failing to break the cycles of white male goyische military-nationalist violence, so a good HEA for him is one where he doesn’t just get to live but gets to address those root causes in the first place! and given that jarl brum was HIS terrible foster father and the root of a lot his problems and expressions of violence, walking back to that place and doing better, breaking the cycle, is so important 

#matthias helvar #look this man was born for akward conversations in his fantasy world pickup truck. #sankta alina was one of the greatest saints of our age and soemtimes she would be gay #listen i'm tapping the dadtthias sign it's so real to me. #for real i think all he really wants to do is pull some kids up a snowy hill in a sled and have a big dog #and then stuff keeps getting IN the way #what not enough people understand is that crooked kingdom is about terrible dads and that's why the entirety of bruce springsteen's #independence day starts playing when matthias punches brum you know? #shadow and bone

[theabominableblogger]

My Reaction to “Shadow and Bone” S1E2

Episode 2!  Gimme some goods!

Wait so are you chosen for certain roles in this society?

*Mal reaches out to grab an unconscious Alina’s hand*  Why are you doing this to me, show?  I’m only an hour into it

*cheers when Kirigan turns around*

I love how all these Grisha and Kirigan are drilling Alina on her schooling and she’s standing in the middle of the tent like “Guys, I just recovered from a broken collarbone and I was promised Wendy’s.”

*Light from Alina’s arm shoots up through the tent*  The beacons of Gondor are lit!

So I’m guessing that everyone is after Alina now since she’s an all powerful Jedi Grisha?  Fabulous

The Menagerie?

*chuckles when Kaz takes Jesper’s shot and downs it*

I really like the world building in this show, I gotta say.  So far I’m really impressed by how much sociopolitical stuff they’ve squeezed in so far.

*chuckles when Inej starts pulling out dozens of knives from herself*

So is the Menagerie like an all female assassin group?  Except much more... seedier?

*Jesper showboats in the mirror*  Very nice...

Wait so the Grisha is a personal army then?

Five hundred bucks says that Kirigan is a bajillion years old and he’s the one that created the Fold.

Ooh we got some bloodbenders in this group!

*All the shadows cave into the forest clearing as Kirigan arrives*  WHOOOOOOO

THAT DUDE’S ARM

“You ride with me.”  OK, Mr. Sudden

“Handsome decoy is also not a Jesper talent.”  I really like Jesper so far

OF COURSE THE HANDKERCHIEF IS BLACK TOO

Oh I just noticed that he [Kirigan] got the knee high riding boots on too

“Why can’t you [Kirigan] get rid of it?”  I still think he created it in the first place

*laughs in shock at the little cape flick Kirigan does*

There’s a King in Ravka?  Who’s he? 

“How long until they [the Grisha] are just as useless as the rest of us?”  Well I saw at least five of them go down in the squabble against the Fjerdans so you’re not entirely wrong.

Wait Poppy’s a drag queen?  That’s awesome!

Scratch that:  so far I really like the Crows

Every time Ben Barnes plays a villain of some kind, he’s always a splash bitchy and honestly I will continue to throw money at him for that

*Alina gets locked in a bedroom at the palace*  WAIT THIS IS BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!

*Alina immediately places a makeshift weapon under her pillow*  Atta girl

*Kaz gives up the Crow Club for Inej*  Dude

Ugh these two [Mal and Alina]....

*laughs*  Meanwhile Kirigan is just furiously doing the “she likes me, she likes me not” routine on a random flower in the hallway

#the blogger reacts #shadow and bone #s&b spoilers #alina starkov #mal oretsev #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #general kirigan #ben barnes

[bengalaas]

Shadow&Bone, S2E7

Watching S2 of Shadow & Bone and I just can’t stop laughing at the genius, strategic decision to throw all the forces of First and Second Army at Kirigan in order to save an abandoned orphanage. Which has zero defenses and is in the middle of a goddamn field several day’s march from Keramzin (except in this season everything is a 20 min trip away), and which is also the spot that Kirigan chose as a potential place of battle.

Like, ffs, if Kirigan hasn’t killed the orphans the moment he went there, maybe you shouldn’t take his bait so lightly, General Alina?

Behold, the location of a pivotal battle. Marvel at the empty, dark windows of this orphanage, and the lack of any strategic upper hand, like maybe raised ground, or natural obstacles to cover your back, or even a somewhat solid stone wall around the property?

“Extraordinary,” says the Darkling about some conjured ice blades (by a Grisha he says he’s always known to be valuable to him, but we only randomly learn her name in the penultimate episode?). It’s like he has never encountered Fjerdan machine guns?

Behold the Darkling giving orders to his terrible, scary, overwhelming army of rebels, consisting of... maybe 20 people max? Yeah, Ravka is shaking in its pants.

Also, why is he camping in tents, instead of under the orphanage roof? Is that how his “forces” have “fortified their hold at Keramzin”?

“We must act quickly,” says General Alina, and King Nikolai nods sagely. Indeed, what would they do without her wise guidance and strategic insight? (ffs, she is SO underqualified to hold any rank at all; Mal has more military sense than her, and Tamar can think outside the box; why the hell did they let Alina play the general??)

Behold the great position the army is leaving in order to go kick Kirigan’s ass. Note the defensible position, the solid walls? But nooo, let’s go have this decisive battle in a meadow, all, what, 50 people that make up the combined remnants of the First and Second Army?

Here we see King Nikolai giving a rousing speech to the 35 people randomly milling about the yard. And then leaving with both Nadia and Adrik, the two people Alina was going to leave in charge of Second Army while she and Mal were gone? (without any scouts actually confirming Kirigan’s position first?)

“We have each other, and that’s everything we need,” says General Alina strategically, once she and Mal have finished strategically running from the monsters she set out to defeat. While Tamar, being a random mercenary, starts actually giving orders for defending the fortress and saving the King.

But then we see also the terrible, scary, no-good rebel army of amplified ranged fighters... rounding a corner with no cover fire and running into melee? Or is (amplified) Grisha attack range really something like... 10m?

Yeah, awesome tactics. Are the bulletproof keftas really that good?

Now, why didn’t they come round the corner in this neat formation right from the start? Here we also see that there seems to be a grand total of 20 rebels.

At least the First Army have the sense to get up and take shots at them from above. For a moment, it almost feels powerful, the way they advance as a unit and work on fireballs together, fire and air, the way Fruzsi (yeah, apparently that’s the name of the Darkling’s new confidante) rains those ice shards over our heroes. But still... machine guns would have been more powerful?

And then they manage to take down Fruzsi’s friend, and our heroes, including a goddamn amplified Heartrender, just sit behind their cover and politely give Fruzsi a moment to pull her shit back together??

This was such a painful episode, ugh. Thank the Saints the Crows came and together with the twins kicked ass and saved the day. At least someone is still creative and competent.

For a story that wants to be about saving a whole-ass country, and about mending the rift between two entire classes of people, the “army” fight scenes were so ridiculously underwhelming.

#beng has salt to share #oh gods why #beng watches s&b s2

[somethhing-someethinng]

I posted 2,573 times in 2022

That's 1,126 more posts than 2021!

27 posts created (1%)

2,546 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@firefly464

@random-meme-bot

@three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat

@izzymrdb

@thefirstpaleontologist

I tagged 441 of my posts in 2022

#jjk - 44 posts

#naruto - 35 posts

#the grishaverse - 35 posts

#desi - 30 posts

#dc - 27 posts

#dream smp - 26 posts

#fma(b) - 23 posts

#mcyt - 21 posts

#mlb - 17 posts

#this - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#they were rivals bc of several factors: naruto not knowing how to be sasuke’s friend and being jealous of him which caused him to childishly

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Naruto AU where Uchiha Sasuke is not The Cool DudeTM  who swears a lot, but the biggest nerd you have ever seen.

The dork grew up in a giant extended family who were very traditional and probably got scolded for saying darn.

Idiot (affectionate) was later on hell bent on getting revenge. So I need you tell me he sometimes didn't stay awake at when his poshy rich kid persona resurfaced out of the trauma and he had a little whatamidoingwhydididothatwhatwouldeveryonethinkofme- moment.

Heck, the only reason he was seen as the cool kid in school, was cuz it was school. we all cringe looking back at it.

I'm just saying, Sasuke probably spent all his time in Konoha either talking like an old man or a rich kid with a poshy ascent.

31 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

#4

We don’t talk about this scene enough

Aleksander, approaching Alina with her guards having just received the news of the stag and seen the tracker, already planning to celebrate taking over the other nations using the fold and testing one final time to see if the tracker is who he claims he is and if he is any threat to his other plans with Alina: *Offers flowers* For you.

Kaz and Inej, disguised as Alina’s guards, having just gotten rid of Arken who was going to betray them, having nearly died many times, knowing dang well that Jesper is sleeping with the stable boy as he was suppossed to be their get-away driver and were just about to kidnap Alina: *Side-eyes with an ‘Is This Guy Serious’ look*

Alina, blissfully ignorant of all the attempts to kill and/or kidnap her that are currently taking place, that one of her friends have been murdered, her childhood friend that she thought had given up on her is on the palace after nearly dying so many times just to talk to her, all the people around her want to use her but for different reasons and the the fact that her entire life is going to get thrown into a roller coaster in a few hours: *Taking the flowers* Thank you.

47 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

#3

yall, sometimes i forget how much funny the darkling can be. like we don’t give him enough credit for it.

like i know he is the big bad guy who did a lot of horrible stuff but every time he makes an appearance i get all giddy to see what dramatic shit this bastard is going to do now.

like that one scene in Siege And Storm: where he personally took Alina to her cabin and through the prison and one time she tripped and he “put his hand on the small of her back to steady her and didn’t let go”. for what? just to make Mal jealous? “You’ll know when I make her scream.” (sir????????????)

and then Rule Of Wolves comes out and i actually got to read his POV and ooooh boy, i was not dissapointed.

Aleksander, watching his army of fateful Starless gather and prepare to follow his orders and march to the northern front of the war: Never in my centuries long life have i ever regretted being sober more than I do now at this moment.

and in the final fight with the fjerdans where he arrives with his cult to get favor and popularity for Zoya and in Nikolai’s POV he was like,

Aleksander: ;)

Nikolai: Did that bastard just fvking WINK-

like, hes funny man

58 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

#2

Sakura, abt Sasuke: How do you think we can trust him?! May I remind you thet he tried to kill us before!

Sai: He did try to kill me.

Naruto: He also tried to kill me on several occasions.

Naruto: There was this one time when we were genin and her turned himself into a frog 'cuz he knew I love frogs. And I was like "Ooo a frog!". And I picked it up to admire it.

Naruto: Then he turned back into himself and was like "Blearg! It's me!" and then he stabbed me.

Everyone:

Naruto: We were twelve at that time.

75 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Her love language is violence, and I am a masochist.

- BR!Wilbur to Techno abt Sally

106 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[genyasafinwife]

Row major spoiler ahead

Imagine if Leigh had an astablished deaf character in the battle lmao they would be too powerful

Deaf Nadia Zabin, in this essay i will-

#grishaverse #rule of wolves spoilers #rule of wolves #Row #Nadia Zabin #Like imagine that one deaf soldier just not fazed by the song bird #Taking on the entire fjerdan army #Brum would never recover #Brum is so ableist he didn't even Consider people who might not be ble to hear

[caprica99]

Shadow and Bone rant, because I need it

Shadow and Bone has some incredible potential, both the books and the show, but neither actually lives up to it.

Alina could have been interesting. Cartographer is a rare profession for fictional characters, but in the books/show she's just a beginner (at 17/20 it's understandable). Make her at least 25 with 9 years of experience in the army, give her a promotion with subordinates she's responsible for and you would get a more interesting character who saw some serious shit in the army, acts like a soldier, and knows responsibility. (And maybe wants to stop the war at all cost, utilizing the Fold maybe.*wink, wink*)

It bothered me that we never saw her using cartography this profession that makes her unique for reaching her goals. In the show, she has dreams about the stag. It would have been interesting to see HER figuring out the whereabouts of the stag by using the stag's surroundings like mountains, specific types of trees, topography, etc. Work smarter, not harder.

Diana Bishop suffers from the same passiveness in the first book of the All Souls trilogy, but she actively uses her science historian background and those passages are the most interesting parts of her POV. Alina's interest in drawing and geography would give her a unique personality, and made her relatable to many (see ADoW and history nerds). Many YA heroines have a specific and useful skillset: Katniss-archery, Clary Fray-drawing, etc. Sadly, her entire personality is running away with Mal.

Mal's character feels pointless to me. The story depicts an oppressed minority group with special powers, and their struggles in the world, the heroine and the antagonist are both part of the said minority group, and he's constantly shown to be a bigot against the Grisha, so what makes him so important to the plot? His tracking skills? Give the job to a no-name tracker and I wouldn't miss him.

At least the show made him more likable, but Archie and Jessie still lack romantic chemistry. However his chemistry with his friends Mikhail and Dubrov was spot on, I really liked it. They showed life as a simple otkazat'sya soldier on the front, and their death was painful to watch. I thought that his friend's death would make a bigger impact on Mal, him wanting to get revenge on the fjerdans and end the war at all cost, and saying that maybe Kirigan's plan actually makes sense would make an interesting narrative. (They are at war dammit, there's no black and white only grey.)

Mal and Alina don't act like soldiers in a war-torn country, they act like American teenagers, and it's annoying. The General and Ivan are the only ones who act as soldiers in a 3 front war. When the villain shows the most responsibility in your story you should rewrite your heroes completely, or make the villain your hero.

The show is better than the books. It's a rare phenomenon but it is something everyone agrees upon. To me, the first book reads like a draft the author forgot to expand. The worldbuilding, the Grisha, and the characters were a perfect base to an original fantasy universe, but it all falls flat. The show made it richer by introducing multiple POVs and giving the actors more leeway (Ben Barnes ladies and gentlemen). But in the end, they had to stick to the books.

This is incredibly confusing to me because we have numerous fanfictions about Alina staying at the Little Palace, embracing her Grisha side, helping the Darkling because his plan makes sense, or changing his plan by coming up with a better one, or having dark!Alina etc... Clearly, this is what book fans wanted: giving Alina agency, make her realize that she had to work with the Darkling because she's Grisha too and they have the same goals but have different methods, let her be Professor X to Alexander's Magneto, ending the corrupt and incompetent Lantsov line, anything would have been better than taking Baghra's words at face value and running off.

Change I like: the whole West-Ravka storyline, it made the General decision understandable. Zlatan sold Grisha to the fjerdans, wanted to kill Alina and his actions could have led to a civil war, Kirigan only acted as a general of his time (not 21 century guys, we are talking about the unforgiving 19 century) and besides we only see the destruction of Zlatans army (BTW they were ready to kill everyone on the skiff) and not the whole city.

Change I don't like: making Alina half Shu. I'm not completely against it, but it was poorly executed. The racism Alina faces overshadows the Grisha-hate, rather than complementing it. Alina acts like being half Shu is somehow worse than being Grisha, eventough there are literal Holocausts going on against Grisha in two neighbouring countries, slavery in another, and the show never addresses it. This is the biggest problem with her character, she never embraces being Grisha, sides with the muggles, and makes her mission to kill the only person who stands between Grisha and persecution.

Would have been good: the show could have made little 5 minute scenes depicting the plight of Grisha in other countries. Either at the beginning or the end of every episode.

Episode 2: the Ice Court

Episode 3: the Shu concentration camps with the experimenting

Episode 4: slavery in Kerch

Episode 5: the Wandering Isle with consuming grisha blood

Episode 6: the Demon in the Woods storyline

Episode 7: Luda+Aleksander

And now... The Darkling/ Aleksander Morozov/ General Kirigan: the most interesting character in the entire series.

In the first half of SaB he was depicted as every soldier's dream general. Sitting and eating with his men, fighting side by side with them, constantly checking on his troops while other generals prefer to attend court. But in the second half, he transforms into a Mustache Twirling Villain TM and makes rather OOC decisions throughout the trilogy. He could have been a generic villain from the start, but why make him then a compelling character with understandable motivations?

In the books, I understood his motivations, but in the show, he was completely right. His backstory shows that he tried peaceful tactics but those never worked out. The only thing that worked against his enemies was power and violence. The price of hesitance was Luda's life (I'm willing to bet they were married). The Fold was actually a mistake born from desperation. He spent centuries in hiding, seeing his people persecuted. Even with the Little Palace and the Second Army Grisha are considered second-class citizens, they can't hold properties. He has to walk the fine line between usefulness and being a threat. He has to bow to incompetent Kings who don't give a shit about the state of the country. If Alina had to go through so much how would she end up? Because it's a miracle that Aleksander still has it in him to fight for the Grisha.

Many bring up Nikolai Lantsov as the Darklings foil ( or Diet Darkling as @ambitious-witch calls him) to show there is an alternative to Aleksander, but it's wrong. Because Nikolai was never part of an oppressed minority group, never had to fear centuries of persecution, he's an actual prince, it's easy to not be radicalized with his background.

Bonus: If Bardugo wanted to create a fictional world with tsarist Russia as a base, the least she could have done is to open a Wikipedia page or a dictionary for the correct names and terms. Starkov is a man's name: Alina Starkova is the correct form. Ilya Morozov, Aleksander Morozov, and Baghra Morozova would be the correct forms.

EDIT: They could have shown the building of the Little Palace and the start of the Second Army. I wanted to see the normal life at the Little Palace before Alina came along, little Grisha enjoying their powers, their reaction if the Darkling comes to see their training (I headcanon he visits the lessons at least once a year), the other teachers, and their reaction to Alina. Alina in canon is good with kids, maybe if she had spent time with little Grisha, she could have embraced her powers sooner. Having met with foreigners (Fjerdan, or Shu) and hearing their gruesome accounts of the foreign treatment of the Grisha would made her willing to fight for their future.

#shadow and bone #sab netflix #sab spoilers #grishaverse #anti leigh bardugo #the darkling #alexander kirigan #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova #alexander morozova #alina starkov #shadow and bone cast #shadow and bone netflix #darklina #alina x darkling #malyen oretsev

[thebadgerclan]

That Would Be Enough

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Aleksander returns from the front to a big surprise...

A/N: Some lines are based on/taken from the song “That Would Be Enough” from Hamilton

You stood at the entrance to the Little Palace, black kefta fastened around your steadily growing belly.  You were barely showing now, but it was plain to see to anyone that you were pregnant.  The Healers said you were 3 months along, which put the conception of your child a few weeks before Aleksander had departed for the Fjerdan front for 12 weeks.  But your husband had no clue about your pregnancy; you hadn’t told him in any of your letters, not wanting him to worry over you when he had far more important things to focus on, or rush home when his men needed him.

His black coach rolled up the drive, and you breathed deeply, pushing the nerves that you felt about your husband’s reaction down.  Aleksander exited the coach, and your eyes found his, a smile on your face.  But Aleksander’s eyes trailed down to your belly, disbelief on his face.  He strode quickly to you, pulling you into a long, tight embrace.  “Aleksander,” you whispered, your entire body feeling warm.  “Sasha, I missed you so much.”

“Darling,” he said, pulling back so he could look at you as well as your belly.  “Are you….?”  “Pregnant?” you finished for him.  “Yed, Aleksander, I’m pregnant.  We’re having a baby!”  You could tell he was happy, elated even, but his joy was overshadowed by the look of concern and slight disappointment.  “How long have you known?” he asked, voice a bit strained.  “3 months,” you said, and Aleksander’s eyes went wide.

“Y/N, you should have told me!”  But you shook your head, taking his hands in yours.  “You had bigger things to worry about-”  “No-”  “I didn’t want you rushing home for me.”  “You should have told me,” he reiterated.  “Maybe I should have, but I’m not sorry.  I know you, Sasha, I know you’ll fight until this war is won.  But you deserve a chance to meet our child.  Look around, Aleksander.  Look at how lucky we are to be alive right now.”

Aleksander shook his head, resting his forehead against yours.  “Are you happy, Aleksander?” you asked, and your husband rushed to affirm it.  “Happy?  Y/N, I have never been happier than I have in my life.  To have a child with you is the greatest thing to ever happen to me.  I only wish you would have told me.  I could have come home to you, my men were more than capable of handling things up north; I could have been here with you, I could have-”

“Sasha,” you cut him off.  “Sweetheart, don’t.  You were needed on the front, and I was perfectly fine here.  I had Genya and the best Healers.  Other than the morning sickness, I was perfectly fine.  Well, that and finding waffles revolting.”  Aleksander cringed, to know you were ill while he was away and that there was nothing he could have done.  “But I’ll need you soon,” you continued.  “When I start getting bigger and can’t move around as easily.  When we start putting the baby’s room together.  And I need you here when they’re born, Sasha.”

“Anything,” he said, clasping your hands firmly.  “Anything you need, Y/N, you will have it.  Saints, a baby.”  That was when the worry crossed his mind, and his face crumpled.  “Oh Saints, a baby.  We’re having a baby.  Y/N, I’m the general of the Second Army, I’m a target, our child could be a target, oh Saints, what have I-”  “Aleksander,” you said, stopping his spiraling.  “Look at me.  I won’t pretend to know the challenges you face, but I am not afraid.  I know who I married; a good, kind man who will go to the ends of the earth to protect his family.”

“I will,” he said, voice steely, and you knew he would raze the earth if it meant keeping you and your unborn child safe.  “All I need is for you to be here with me, Aleksander.  Stay here, stay home, with your wife and your baby.  That would be enough.”  Your husband nodded, pressing a kiss to your lips, hands moving from your belly to your face, bringing you closer to him.  “Consider it done, my love.  No more trips to the front.  No more extended trips to military camps.  Not for a long time.”

You knew that Aleksander would still have to travel on occasion, but you also knew that he meant what he’d just promised.  You knew he wouldn’t travel to the Fjerdan or Shu Han border for years to come, you knew that week-long journeys were over for the time being.  An overnight trip here and there, maybe, but you also knew they’d be far and few between.  “I’m not going anywhere until our child can go with me,” he vowed, and you smiled against his lips.  That, his promise to you and your child, would be enough.

Aleksander kissed you for a few minutes more before abruptly pulling back, dropping to his knees before you.  He placed his hands on your belly, his grey eyes soft and brimming with love, a sweet smile on his face.  “Hello, little one,” he said, face close to your bump.  “Daddy loves you so much already.  I promise you that I will always protect you and keep you safe.  You will be the most loved, most cherished, and most adored child of Ravka.  I promise, little one, I will always be here for you.”

Your husband pressed his lips to your bump, making your heart skip several beats.  You rested your hands on his shoulders, and Aleksander rested his cheek against your belly.  “In all my years, I have never been this happy,” he said, keeping his head on your bump.  “Thank you, Y/N.  Thank you for this incredible gift.  I love you so much, and I love our child.”  “I love you too, Aleksander, and I love our little one.”  You carded a hand through his hair, smiling to yourself.  Your husband was home, you were having a baby, everything in the world felt right.  You were surrounded by love and happiness; and that was enough.  More than enough, even.

#aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone reader insert

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six  

=================================

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her. 

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

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

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. 

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open.  But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

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Part 8

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadown and bone