Ok I Need To Rant About This, Rn-

ok i need to rant about this, rn-

THE WORD "MENAGERIE" HAS A LITERAL MEANING!! LIKE, HOW COULD I NOT KNOW?!

Menagerie: A collection of wild animals kept in captivity for exhibition.

Like, when Inej was referred as the — Suli Lynx

And the Fjerdan Wolf, the Zemeni Fawn, the Kaelish girl is known as the mare for her red hair, the Ravkan Fox, the Shu Serpant in the Menagerie

THEY WERE ALL REFERRED AS ANIMALS !! LIKE, THAT'S WHY THE ANIMALS' NAMES NEVER CHANGED!!

During the Ice Court Heist, when Inej dressed up as the Suli Lynx, initially she was not held back, because no one other than Tante Heleen knew about the true identities of the girls!!

And the fact that no one even suspected a thing about the Kaelish switch that Nina did, really makes me question whether Heleen even bothered to keep a track of all the girls or not...

So, Heleen knew about Inej because Kaz invested in her?

"I can help you." Those were the first words she’d spoken to him, standing in the parlor of the Menagerie, draped in purple silk, eyes lined in kohl. She had helped him. And she’d nearly destroyed him. 

Kanej || HOPE

Prologue

masterlist // chapter 1 —>

He gently put his gloved hand on her shoulders. A sense of warmth flew through her entire body. She felt loved, protected. He made her feel worthy. He was everything to her. Being around him gave her a sense of comfort, she could never express into words.

   The boy with the blazing pistols seemed to be drawn to the fragile heart. He had gifted her freedom, serenity......

Yet, he knew. He knew that she was only a mere figment of imagination and would slowly fade away. He knew that she was nothing but a sphere of illusion. 

Stay With Me

masterlist

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2027

Summary: Zoya takes care of a sick Nikolai, who happens to be down with the flu.

---

The fierce winter winds howled outside, as Nikolai Lantsov lay in his bed, pale and feverish. The once vibrant and indomitable king now appeared frail, his skin flushed and clammy, his breath coming in labored gasps. The room was cold, despite the roaring fire in the hearth, the chill seeping through the stone walls and biting at Zoya's skin.

Zoya stood by his side, her expression a mask of composure that hid the turmoil within. She had seen him wounded before, seen him on the brink of death more times than she cared to count, but this was different. This was an enemy she couldn’t fight, an illness that didn’t respond to her powers or to any remedy they could find.

"Nik," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the wind. "You need to rest."

Nikolai’s eyes fluttered open, and he managed a weak smile. "Rest is for the dead, my dear," he replied, his voice hoarse. "And I am not quite there yet."

Zoya’s heart clenched at his words. "Don’t say that," she said sharply, her fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. "You’re going to get better."

He reached out a trembling hand, covering hers with a touch that was both comforting and heartbreaking. "Zoya," he said softly, "we both know that’s not true. The healers have done all they can, and even you…" He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

Zoya looked away, unable to meet his gaze. She had tried everything, pouring all her power into him, but nothing worked. The flu was relentless, a silent killer that showed no mercy.

"I can't lose you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Nikolai squeezed her hand gently. "You are stronger than you know," he said. "And Ravka needs you. You’ve always been the strength behind the throne, Zoya. You can lead them without me."

"I don’t want to lead without you. You are the heart of Ravka."

He smiled then; a ghost of his usual grin. "Then you’ll have to be its heart and soul."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She had to be strong for him, for Ravka, for herself. "I don’t know how to do this without you," she admitted.

"You’ll find a way," he assured her. "You always do."

Hours passed, the night dragging on in a haze of fever and whispered conversations. Nikolai spoke of plans and contingencies, of allies and enemies, trying to prepare her for a future without him.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he knew it was necessary. He had to make sure she would be alright, even if he wasn’t there to see it.

"You know, when I’m gone, you should really redecorate this room. Maybe something less gloomy. Brighten it up a bit."

Zoya rolled her eyes, despite the ache in her chest. "Stop talking like that," she said, her voice hard. "You’re not going anywhere."

"Always the optimist," he chuckled weakly. "But seriously, Zoya. Promise me you’ll take care of things. Of yourself. Of Ravka."

"I promise," she said, her voice trembling. "But I’m not giving up on you. You’re too stubborn to die from something as mundane as the flu."

"I do like to make a grand exit," he admitted with a tired smile. "But just in case, you should know… I trust you. More than anyone. You’ll make a fantastic queen."

Zoya’s breath caught in her throat. "Don’t you dare," she whispered fiercely. "Don’t you dare leave me."

His eyes softened, and he reached up to touch her cheek. "I wish I didn’t have to," he said. "But you’ll be alright. You’re the strongest person I know."

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes against the flood of emotions. "You’re not allowed to die, Nikolai Lantsov," she said, her voice breaking. "I forbid it."

He tried to laugh, but it quickly turned into a fit of coughing that left him gasping for breath. "Is that an order, my Queen?" he managed to choke out between coughs.

"Yes," she replied, her voice trembling as she handed him a cloth to wipe his mouth. "An order from your queen."

His smile faded, replaced by a look of profound sadness. "I wish I could obey," he said softly. "But some things are beyond even a privateer’s control."

The night dragged on, and Nikolai grew weaker, his breathing more labored. Zoya stayed by his side, refusing to leave him even for a moment. She held his hand, whispered reassurances, and tried to keep the fear at bay.

Nikolai's coughs continued to grow frequent through the night, each one more violent than the last. The sound echoed through the room, a harsh reminder of the relentless grip of his illness. Zoya clung to his hand, trying to pour her strength into him, but she could feel him slipping away.

The room seemed to close in around them, the walls a silent witness to their anguish.

"Stay with me," she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. "Just a little longer."

Nikolai's eyes flickered open, and he managed a faint smile. "I'm trying," he coughed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's hard, Zoya. So hard."

She brushed a damp lock of hair from his forehead, her touch tender despite the turmoil inside her. "You have to keep fighting," she said, her voice fierce. "For me. For Ravka."

He closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. "I'm so tired," he admitted. "I don't know if I can."

Zoya's heart clenched at his words. She had never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so close to giving up. She had to be strong for him, had to keep him grounded in the world of the living.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She had to be strong for him, had to show him that she could carry on. "I can't lose you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Not now. Not ever."

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with a mixture of love and sadness. "You won't lose me," he said softly. "I'll always be with you. In your heart."

The minutes stretched into an eternity, the night closing in around them. Each cough wracked Nikolai's body, leaving him weaker, his breaths more labored. Zoya's heart ached with every labored inhale, every painful exhale.

"Do you remember," she said softly, trying to distract him from the pain, "the night we first met?

Nikolai's lips twitched in a faint smile. "I remember," he said, his voice barely audible. "You saw right through me."

"And you never gave up," she continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You fought for Ravka, for all of us."

His eyes opened, and for a moment, there was clarity in his gaze. "Promise me you'll keep fighting, even when I'm gone."

A sob caught in her throat, but she forced it down. She had to be strong for him, had to keep him grounded in the world of the living.

"I promise," she said, her voice breaking. "But you're not gone yet, Nikolai. Stay with me. Please."

"Zoya, I. .. I love you."

The words broke something inside her, and she felt tears spill down her cheeks. "I love you too." She leaned over him, pressing a gentle kiss to his burning forehead. "So much. Please, don't leave me."

He gripped her strong hands with his pale and trembling fingers and pressed her knuckles to his lips. "Be strong," he whispered, "for me."

And then, with a quiet exhale, Nikolai Lantsov, King of Ravka, grew still. His hand went limp in hers, and Zoya felt a profound emptiness settle in the room.

He was gone.

Gone.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She stared at his still form, unable to comprehend the reality of his death.

"No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "No, please. Come back. Please, Nikolai."

But there was no response, no sign of life. The man who had been her anchor, her strength, was gone, leaving her alone in a world that suddenly felt unbearably empty.

She clung to him, her tears falling onto his lifeless chest. "You promised," she sobbed. "You promised you wouldn't leave me."

She couldn't contain her grief any longer. She screamed.

She screamed, a guttural cry that echoed through the room and mingled with the howling wind outside. It was a raw, primal sound of loss and anguish, carried away by the winds that seemed to mourn with her.

Outside, the storm raged on.

Zoya's heart felt shattered, her entire being consumed by the void left in Nikolai's absence. She collapsed beside his bed, her sobs wracking her body.

Eventually, the healers came, their faces solemn as they gently took Nikolai's body away. Zoya stood frozen, her eyes fixed on Nikolai's still form, unable to fully grasp the finality of his absence.

She watched them go mechanically, her movements slow and deliberate, as though moving through thick fog. The world seemed to move around her, but Zoya felt suspended in a moment that refused to end.

It was Genya's gentle touch on her shoulder that finally broke through the haze. Zoya turned to her, tears streaming down her face.

"We need to go," Genya said softly, her voice breaking the silence that enveloped them.

Zoya nodded wordlessly, allowing Genya to guide her out of the room.

Each step felt heavy with the weight of the loss. As they walked away from Nikolai's bedside, Zoya couldn't shake the feeling that a part of her had been left behind with him.

Outside, the morning light filtered through the windows, casting a somber glow over the palace halls.

"Zoya, we need you. Ravka needs you."

Zoya took a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain. She had promised Nikolai she would be strong, that she would carry on. She couldn't let him down.

"I know," she said, her voice steady despite the tears still streaming down her face. "I'll be there."

Genya nodded silently. She knew this feeling.

"I remember when David..." Genya began softly, her voice carrying the weight of her own memories. "When he died, it felt like the world had stopped. Like I couldn't breathe without him."

Zoya looked at her, gratitude mingling with her grief. "How did you do it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you cope with it?"

Genya sighed, her eyes reflecting the pain of her past loss. "At first, I didn't cope. I just existed, moving through the days because I had to. But then I realized... David wouldn't want me to just exist. He would want me to live, to find purpose again."

Zoya listened intently, drawing strength from Genya's words. "And did you?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Genya nodded, a small smile touching her lips despite the sadness in her eyes. "It took time, Zoya. Time and the support of friends like you. I found solace in helping others, in channeling my grief into something meaningful."

"You did everything you could," She murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair from Zoya's tear-streaked face. "He knew that. Nikolai knew."

"But it wasn't enough," Zoya whispered, her voice filled with anguish.

Zoya swallowed hard. "I want to honor Nikolai's memory," she admitted, her voice wavering. "But right now, I don't know how."

Genya reached out, squeezing Zoya's hand gently. "You will," she said with quiet conviction. "In your own time, in your own way. And until then, I'll be here for you, just like you were there for me."

They stood together in the alcove, the two women bound by grief and resilience.

As the morning light grew brighter outside, casting long shadows on the palace walls, Zoya felt a flicker of determination ignite within her.

She would carry on for Nikolai, for Ravka, and for herself, knowing that though his physical presence was gone, his legacy would endure in the strength of those who loved him. With Genya beside her, offering silent support and understanding, Zoya took a deep breath, ready to face the challenges ahead with newfound resolve and purpose.

Kanej || HOPE

masterlist//prologue//previous chapter//next chapter —>

---

Anika

The job had not gone as planned. It was far from perfect. It was a complete blasphemy!

On top of that, she had managed to anger the boss.

Great! Just amazing!

She could hear a distant murmur, someone calling her name, asking for her.

She dropped the limp figure on the floor, as she took a step back. The World was swirling around her....

"Anika, what happened?" Kaz could only fathom the worst, "Anika?!"

"Water," she croaked.

The explanation would come. First, she needed to steady herself.

*********

She was walking down the lane, hood up, crouched low. The Dime Lions were rumored to have gotten their territory expanded to their old warehouses. She was supposed to sneak in on their conversations and find out which ones were being used. They were careful enough not to leave any recorded documents behind. She would be back within an hour. In and out.

*********

"How did they know about Inej returning from Ravka?" Kaz rasped coldly.

"The latest slave trader intercepted by Inej, Volkov, Dreke Volkov, was one of their valuable assets. Dreke had somehow managed to communicate with them before being a prisoner of the Wraith."

"And they are planning what?"

"To hold her as a captive at the warehouse near the Van Eck Mansion."

"Does Jesper or Wylan know about this?"

"I don't think so," her voice quivered, "No."

"Umm, Kaz?"

Kaz followed her gaze to find Roeder waking up.

Zoyalai au idea! Pre sab

Young Nikolai and Zoya meet at the winter fete. He has just decided to join the first army, and she doesn't think an otkazatsya can actually make any difference in the field. She seems mean, but he still wants to ask her to dance. Yet he doesn't, because people are watching and he has learnt to please the court, he doesn't want to draw his family's attention to the grisha girl. He is leaving, he doesn't need any more ties to this place.

But maybe in another life he will be braver, maybe in another life he will ask and she will dance with him.

**In Another Life**

Under the high-vaulted ceilings of the Grand Palace ballroom, laughter and music mingled with the clinking of crystal glasses. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a warm glow on the lavishly dressed guests who danced and chatted, oblivious to the cold winter night outside.

The Winter Fete was a display of Ravkan nobility at its finest, but to Nikolai Lantsov, it felt like a gilded cage.

Nikolai stood near the edge of the ballroom, surveying the scene. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, having just committed himself to join the First Army. It was a bold move, one that he hoped would forge his own path away from the expectations of his royal lineage. He yearned for adventure, for a chance to prove himself beyond the pampered life of a prince.

As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on Zoya Nazyalensky. She stood apart from the crowd, a striking figure in a sapphire gown that matched her sharp, observant eyes. Zoya was a Squaller, one of the powerful Grisha, and her reputation preceded her. She exuded confidence and a touch of aloofness, seeming almost untouchable.

Nikolai took a deep breath, steeling himself as he approached her. “Good evening, Miss Nazyalensky,” he greeted, bowing slightly.

Zoya turned to face him, her gaze cool and appraising. “Prince Nikolai,” she replied, her tone polite but distant. “To what do I owe this rare honor?”

“I’ve just made a decision,” Nikolai began, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m joining the First Army.”

Zoya raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “An otkazat'sya in the First Army? That’s ambitious.”

Nikolai chuckled, though her words had a sting of truth. “I thought you might have some advice. After all, you’ve seen more of the real world than most here.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing him. “Advice? Surprising that a prince would seek advice from a Grisha.”

“Everyone needs guidance,” Nikolai replied, meeting her gaze. “And I think there’s more to you than the court gossips say.”

Zoya’s expression softened, just a fraction. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But let me warn you, Your Highness, the battlefield is no place for pampered princes. It’s harsh and unforgiving.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work,” Nikolai said earnestly. “I want to make a difference.”

“Wanting and doing are different things,” Zoya said, her tone almost gentle. “But perhaps you’ll surprise us all.”

Nikolai felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a glimmer of approval from someone he respected. He hesitated, then, his eyes flicking to the dance floor. “Would you care to dance?”

Zoya’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but before she could respond, a group of courtiers nearby turned to watch them, their whispers and curious glances weighing heavily on him. He remembered his place, the expectations, the scrutiny of the court.

He smiled, a touch ruefully. “Another time, perhaps. When the eyes of the court aren’t so intent on every move.”

Zoya’s gaze softened, a hint of understanding there. “Perhaps,” she said, inclining her head.

Nikolai took a step back, bowing once more. “I hope to see you again, Miss Nazyalensky. Maybe on the battlefield, maybe somewhere else.”

“Until then, Prince Nikolai,” Zoya replied, her voice carrying a promise.

As he walked away, Nikolai felt a pang of regret. He imagined a different life, one where he was braver, where he asked her to dance despite the eyes watching them. In that life, perhaps they would have shared a dance, a conversation that revealed more of themselves, and the start of something neither could predict.

But for now, he had chosen his path, one that led away from the glittering halls of the palace and into the unknown of the battlefield.

He cast one last glance at Zoya, her figure still a striking presence amidst the nobility, before stepping out into the cold night, ready to face whatever awaited him.

Beneath the Howling Moon

masterlist

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 937

Summary: It a Full Moon Night and Lupin has to go to the Shrieking Sack where he finds Sirius.

---

The full moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the grounds of Hogwarts. Remus Lupin felt the pull of it deep in his bones, a reminder of the monster lurking beneath his skin.

He had always been good at hiding his pain, his fear, but tonight felt different.

More intense. More desperate.

He walked the empty corridors, each step echoing like a heartbeat, until he reached the familiar wooden door of the Shrieking Shack. Pushing it open, he was met with darkness, the kind that swallowed everything whole. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, sealing himself away from the world.

Except, he wasn't alone.

"Sirius?" Remus's voice was a whisper, barely audible over the sound of his own breathing.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and lean, with a mop of black hair that fell into stormy gray eyes. Sirius Black, his best friend, his everything, stood before him, looking as tormented as Remus felt.

"I couldn't let you go through this alone," Sirius said, his voice rough with emotion. "Not tonight.

Remus swallowed hard, the familiar ache of longing mixing with the ever-present fear of losing control. "You shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous."

" I don't care," Sirius snapped, stepping closer.

"I care about you, Remus. More than anything."

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Remus closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He felt Sirius's hand on his cheek, warm and steady, grounding him in the moment.

"I hate seeing you like this," Sirius murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I wish I could take it all away."

"You can't," Remus choked out. "This is who I am."

"Then let me help you carry it," Sirius whispered, his lips ghosting over Remus's. "Let me be here for you."

Sirius's eyes were filled with a fierce determination, a promise of unwavering support. He gently cupped Remus's face with both hands, his touch tender yet resolute. Remus felt the warmth of Sirius's palms seep into his skin, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. For a moment, they just stood there, breathing each other's air, their foreheads touching. The tension between them crackled like electricity, a tangible force that drew them closer.

"I've seen you at your worst, Remus," Sirius continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I've seen you at your best. None of it changes how I feel about you."

Remus's breath hitched, the weight of Sirius's words settling over him like a comforting blanket. He opened his eyes, meeting Sirius's intense gaze, and saw nothing but firm love and acceptance.

The air grew thick with unspoken emotion, the space between them charged with anticipation. Sirius's thumb traced the line of Remus's jaw, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Remus's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the silent plea he couldn't bring himself to voice.

"You're not alone," Sirius said softly, his breath warm against Remus's lips. "Not as long as I'm here."

Their mouths met in a desperate kiss, a clash of need and fear, love and anguish. Remus clung to Sirius, his fingers digging into his shoulders as if letting go would mean losing him forever. Sirius responded with equal fervour, his hands roaming over Remus's body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

They stumbled back, falling onto the rickety bed that groaned under their weight. Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the need for connection overpowering everything else. Remus felt the heat of Sirius's skin against his own, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

"Sirius," he gasped, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Sirius promised, his eyes dark with desire and determination. "I trust you."

Remus wanted to believe him, wanted to lose himself in the moment, but the fear was always there, lurking in the back of his mind.

Still, he let Sirius guide him, let himself be swept away by the passion that consumed them both.

Sirius's hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, and exploring every inch of Remus's body. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, a reminder that he was alive, that he was loved. He arched into Sirius's touch, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Please," Remus begged, his need almost painful. "I need you."

Sirius didn't hesitate, positioning himself over Remus, their bodies aligning perfectly. He moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust a promise of love and devotion. Remus's world narrowed down to the feeling of Sirius inside him, the pleasure building with each movement.

They moved together, a tangle of limbs and whispered words, their connection deepening with every touch, every kiss. Remus felt the tension coiling inside him, tighter and tighter, until it finally snapped, sending him spiralling into ecstasy.

Sirius followed moments later, his release punctuated by a guttural moan that echoed through the room. They collapsed together, a tangle of sweaty, sated bodies, their breaths mingling in the stillness.

For a long time, they lay there, neither wanting to break the fragile peace that had settled over them.

Remus felt a strange sense of calm, the fear that had gripped him earlier receding into the background.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Sirius tightened his hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Always."

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the cracks in the walls, Remus allowed himself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to face the darkness alone. With Sirius by his side, anything seemed possible.

Even love.