Grishaverse Fic - Tumblr Posts

Masterlist

I do not write anything nsfw for underage characters

any smut is marked (*)

Tamar x Reader

sweet solutions *

thats when she knew she lost her

that's when she knew she lost her nsfw*

make every moment count

make every moment count nsfw*

almost too late

princesses get what they want

I better live so I can make fun of her for this

this is inconvenient

would it have been worth taking?

I made a promise

Zoya x Reader

I hate that I care about you

ache for you*

Tamar x Nadia

everything's different

under the stars one last time*

Quizzes

Bastard, Lesbian, Poet

Bastard, Wraith, Poet

Queen, Soldier, Arsonist

can I ask for a Tamar x reader where she is the healer in Sturmhond's crew, she and Tamar pretend to be "just friends" but for once the reader gets injured during a fight and Tamar is terrified of losing her and her first thing he does when the reader wakes up is kiss her

I better live so I can make fun of her for this

Tamar x f!Grisha Reader

Wordcount: ~1.5k

Warnings: descriptions of injury, discussions of death

A/N: Thank you for the request! I loved writing this

Summary: Y/n's always been certain she's someone who lives with no regrets, but she finds herself begging the Saints for a second chance, begging whoever’s up there to give her another shot. 

I’m fine with the situation - or I think I am. It’s easier this way, less complicated, and we can avoid unnecessary comments and conflicts. At the same time, it’s difficult to ‘act normal’ about everything when half of the time all I want to do is hold her hand, or give her a hug that lasts a few seconds too long. I’m not sure if she feels the same, I hope she does. I know it’s not a ‘friends with benefits’ situation, more of a ‘secret relationship.’ It feels cheesy, like something out of a romance novel. 

I’m working with one of the deckhands, checking in on an old injury. He’s distracted by something and I sneak a glance over to Tamar, she’s sparring with someone. I hold back a chuckle as he’s flipped right on his ass. Nobody lasts long against her. I turn back to the sailor. “You’re all set.” 

He thanks me and hops up off the crate, heading over to discuss something with one of his friends. I take over his seat and tilt my head back, closing my eyes so the sun can soak into my skin. ‘Maybe it’ll bring out my freckles some more.’ I think to myself. 

The wood next to me creaks, and I peek one eye open to check. Tamar’s sitting next to me. 

“You made easy work of him.” I tell her, mentioning the sailor she sparred with earlier. 

“Always happy to knock someone's egos down a few pegs.” She grins

I chuckle and turn to her. “Just have mercy on me.” 

She rolls her eyes. “You can hold your own.” 

“Not against you.” I mumble. That’s a sore point for me - after a year on board I haven’t been able to win against her. We tied once and I hold onto that like a grand victory. 

“You’ll get there one day” she nudges me with her shoulder. 

“I hope you’re ready for it.” 

She hums, turning her head up to meet the sun, I copy her and we sit in peaceful silence.. 

–

The pain shocks me, jolts me. I scream as I fall, a bullet hitting my chest - slightly to the left of my heart. I feel myself weakening, feel the blood dripping from me. I wiggle so my back is leaning against a crate, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself. 

“The bleeding.” I mutter to myself, “stop the bleeding. Keep the heart going.” I’m doing my best to use my powers on myself but it’s not quick enough. The fight is over, I hear the howls and cheers going up, the gunfire and clash of swords are gone. 

“TAMAR” I scream, seeing her just ahead of me, her back turned. Quick as lightning she’s sprinting to my side. She falls to her knees in front of me. I watch her eyes assess the situation. 

“Bullet.” I tell her, and point to the exact spot it hit. I take more deep breaths, trying to keep my calm, to keep myself centered - it’s not working but I feel her powers working, I’m grateful for the lessons I gave her - she picked up on healing quickly. I let a small smile drift across my face, I’m proud of her. 

“TOLYA.” I hear her scream - it sounds distant. I keep blinking my eyes, and keep fighting to stay awake. 

“Stay awake, love.” She whispers, her hands over my heart, working to try and heal it. I hear Tolya dropping to the other side, starting to work in tandem with his sister. It’s strange being healed - instead of doing the healing. 

“Hey.” I whisper, her eyes dart up towards me. “I love you.” I say, black spots start appearing around my eyes, I close them - squinting as hard as I can, I feel the tears start to leak from the corners of my eyes. If I’m dying - I'll do it with one less regret on my chest. I’m ready to accept it, to let myself be welcomed home, but before I can I hear her scream. I know I'm not awake but it pushes something forward in me, like a small tug to keep going - to try and fight. My soul is hovering - waiting, hoping for a body to go home to. 

–

There’s days where I think I know how important something is to me, how much it means, how much I'm willing to risk, and then something happens to change my entire perspective on it. 

I’ve never felt more helpless in my life. I’m out of my body - watching her cry over me. I can’t feel it, but I can see how pale and clammy my skin is. Whatever version of me I'm in right now, I still feel the ache -. I can’t feel the pain I know my physical body is in, but I can feel the heartbreak, see the devastation my injury is bringing. I know it's not my fault at all, but I’m a healer - I hate not being able to fix it, not being able to mend my broken self. Having to put my faith in others. I have faith in Tamar. I’ve always been certain I'm someone who lives with no regrets, but I'm finding myself begging the Saints for a second chance, begging whoever’s up there to give me another shot. 

The week passes by in glimpses, small dashes out of my body, watching Tolya and Tamar work constantly to keep my heart beating, to keep my blood flowing. I can see their concern and fear, but I also see their determination. If there’s any chance at me surviving - I know these two will make it happen. This version of me feels empty - I don’t have my powers. I can’t sense my own heart rate, I can’t detect blood pressure, or respiration rates, I never realized how big of a part of me my powers are. 

–

She’s singing, I realize. Sitting next to my bed and singing. Some kind of shu ballad I know she barely remembers. My out of body self starts laughing. ‘I better live so I can make fun of her for this.’ She really should leave the poetry to Tolya. But I don’t mind her singing to me, maybe I’ll convince her to do it more often. She has a nice voice - for a mercenary. 

She pauses for a moment, squeezing my hand. “I can’t lose you y/n.” I see tears swell in her eyes and have to look away. I’ve never seen her cry, Tamar’s never cried in front of me. 

–

My eyes blink open, I'm back in my body. Everything feels too bright, too overwhelming, I shut my eyes again, planting my hands firmly down on my sides, trying to push myself up into a sitting position. I groan, the motion making my ribs ache. Someone is at my side in an instant, their arm gently laying me back down. I turn my head, blinking my eyes open again, slowly adjusting to the bright lights. Bronze skin, golden tilted eyes, short dark cropped hair, a beautiful grin on her face - it’s Tamar, the first one I see. Millions of people could be in the room, but at this time, I wouldn’t see anyone else. I reach one of my arms for her, ignoring the pain in my side. She gets the message and leans down. Her hands cup my cheeks gently and she places a soft kiss on my lips. I tug at the back of her neck, trying to bring her in closer, deeper, meld her body in with mine. She just chuckles and pulls back to lean her forehead against mine. 

“You’re still hurt.” Her voice is low, but I can hear the love in it. The gentleness she saves just for me. 

“I’m the healer.” I grumble. “I’m fine.” 

“Excuse me, I’m the healer now. You’re my patient.” My eyes are closed but I can still feel her smile. 

She shifts away from me, and I start to protest but she pulls a chair up next to my cot, holding onto one of my hands. 

“I could see it all.” I tell her. “From above.”

Her eyes widen but she hesitates, like she doesn’t know what to say or how to respond. 

“I don’t want to hide anymore.” I tell her, willing my voice to stay strong. “I want everything with you, I don’t want any regrets.” 

She holds my hand up to her lips, gently turning my wrist to kiss my palm. “You’ll have everything. No more hiding, never again.” 

I break out into a grin that she matches, leaning back down to place another soft kiss on my lips. 

I hear a whistle in the background. Tamar leans up, Sturmhond is leaning against he doorframe. “I can’t say that was completely unexpected. How romantic.” 

“Get out.” Tamar snarls. He moves without hesitation, quietly shutting the door behind him. She turns to me, “where were we?” 

I laugh hard enough that I wince, my ribs aching from the movement.

“it hurts me, just how much i ache for you." With zoya and a female reader pls! Where zoya doesn’t want to confess and the reader was up to something like making her jealous then love making if its alright. Thank you have a nice day 😊😊

ache for you

Zoya x f!Reader

NSFW minors dni

A/N: oh gosh I'm so sorry this took me so long but I LOVED writing this and definitely will be writing more Zoya. thank you so much for sending this :)

Summary: “Then, Saints help you Zoya Nazyalensky. Do something about it. Don’t be a coward.”

“You don’t understand.” Zoya said, anger and frustration filling her stupidly perfect face. 

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, jealousy, smut

“Then explain it to me.” 

“It hurts me. Just how much I ache for you.” You could tell the words were painful, difficult for her to say, but at this point you didn’t care. You were sick of it, sick of waiting around for Zoya to do something. 

“Then, Saints help you Zoya Nazyalensky. Do something about it. Don’t be a coward.” You know all the right words to piss her off, all of the right buttons to push. A challenge, and Zoya’s never backed down from one. 

She took one slow step forward, her eyes meeting yours, the entire time. You could practically see her thinking, see her debating if she would do something or not. 

“I knew it. I’m going to find Lena.” You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the wall. Lena, your ex-lover. Someone Zoya had it out for the second you two started dating, but coincidentally stopped as soon as you’d broken up with her. Zoya froze as you took a few steps towards the door. “She says hello, by the way.” 

-

Lena, in fact, did not say hello. And Zoya knows that perfectly well. Just like she knows Y/n is going to make good on her word to find Lena. How long had they been broken up? She knows they haven’t seen each other since, but also knows that bitch would jump at the chance to be with her. To touch her girl. Her girl? When did that happen? Zoya made her mind up, and slid in front of Y/n before she could reach the door. “You don’t need her.” 

“You’re correct. I don’t need anybody.” She caught the way her bottom lip rolled in between her teeth. Nervous. Cute. 

“But you want me.” She purred, a hand reaching out to push back a stray hair. “You ache for me, just as much as I ache for you.” She took a careful step, invading her space, and let one hand drift down the column of her neck, her thumb brushing the velvety skin. “Don’t you?” 

-

“Don’t you?” 

Saints help you. You took another step forward, so close that if you took a large breath, you’d touch. “Show me..” You waited as her hand paused, thumb pressing gently on your pulse. You know your heart is beating rapidly, you can feel it nearly bursting out of your chest, and she knows too. Her move, you told yourself, wait for her to make the move. 

Her hand slid to the back of your neck, burying itself in your hair, gripping slightly. And Zoya took that final step, yanking you forward and tilting your head to meet her lips. It was angry but somehow soft. Her lips felt just like you’d dreamt they would. Not that you’d ever tell her that. 

Soft, but she moved with such certainty and aggression that you couldn’t help following her lead, your hands lazily drifting over her shoulders, before making slow strokes down her arms. She, on the other hand, gripped your hip tightly with one hand, pressing you as close as she physically could, all while backing you into the wall. 

Your slightly exposed back hit the cold wall, drawing a small gasp out of you. “I’ll have you making more sounds like that before the nights over.” 

“Zoya.” You looked to see if anyone was nearby.

“Let them see.” Her hand cupped your cheek, drawing your attention back to her. This time she leaned in softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. But, you weren’t having that, and pulled her in, fingers digging into her hair, tugging the ribbon, letting it all come loose. You tucked the ribbon in your pocket like a prize, all while keeping your lips on hers. 

-

Y/n bit lightly on Zoya’s bottom lip, and she couldn’t control the small moan that left her. That sound spurred y/n on, because she grew bolder, flipping Zoya so her back pressed against the wall, her hips pinning her in place. 

“So pretty,” the other girl cooed, fingers tracing her cheekbones and jawline. Y/N pressed a soft kiss to the bottom of her neck, and Zoya tilted her head to give more access. Her lips trailed up, sucking lightly on the skin - not enough to feel a bruise. This time Zoya bit on her own lip, keeping any sounds firmly in. 

She’d had enough and grabbed her hand, tugging her down the hall towards her rooms. She didn’t really want to let them see. As soon as the door closes,  she’s unbuttoning y/n’s Kefta, keeping her eyes directly on her as she takes her time. 

Y/n huffs, rolling her eyes, before swatting Zoya’s hands away and taking it off herself, tossing it somewhere across the room. 

-

You reach the first button on Zoya’s Kefta and wait, giving her a chance to back away, or change her mind. Zoya copies you, rolling her eyes dramatically before taking it off and throwing it across the room. She walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed, and you fall backwards, pulling her on top of you. 

All of your clothes are shed quickly after, and your thumbs ghost over her nipples, before your hands trail down her sides, stopping to grip her hips. Zoya’s eyes narrow and she grips the back of your head, crashing your lips together. The kiss leaves you dizzy and breathless, her lips trailing down your neck, before gently sucking on your nipple. 

-

Zoya loves how she keens into her, throwing her head back into moan just from the smallest touch. “So sensitive,” she teases. Y/n’s hands move, quick, pinching Zoya’s nipple between her thumb and forefinger, drawing out a small whimper. 

“Look at you,” Y/n says, “so sensitive.” 

-

You spent the rest of the night drawing out some rarely seen manners from Zoya, just as she kept you begging for more. 

“Are you going to go find Lena now?” She asked, as you curled up against her. You pretended to think about it, rubbing your finger against your bottom lip. “The correct answer is no.” Zoya ground her teeth, and you laughed, leaning up to press a kiss against her lips. She tapped her finger against your lips, “you wretch.” 

Searing Starlight (chapter 3)

A/n I CANNOT believe how many people have supported this story,, I’m so excited to continue it with you guys :)) 

Just a reminder that while this is based off the show i hope to blend in some book aspects/vibes and this is just a fanfic and it won’t be completely accurate/follow the show 100% and any changes I make/parts I chose not to focus on are for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell 

-- 

I can’t tell if I wish Kaz had let me go with Inej or not. She’s faster than I am, and considering that I have no real reason to be loyal to them, I’m a flight risk. That means I’m stuck here with only the Kaz Brekker and Jesper, who I tricked. I hadn’t exactly befriended Inej entirely in the few minutes I was alone with her, but she seemed more trustworthy than them. More susceptible to reason. And when she heard where I was from, who was responsible for raising me, something in the way she watched me changed. It was the oddest combination--a look of both tired sympathy and cautious admiration.

“What I don’t understand…” Jesper breaks the silence. “Is why you all go back there. He lets you leave, he gives you money--there’s no reason to return.” 

I try not to let the question anger me. I shift awkwardly, scratching at my palm. “We tried leaving.” My stomach knots. “Once.” How do I make them understand? “He caught us because we young and stupid, and then he…” I exhale slowly. They’re just words. They don’t change anything. Whether I speak them or not, the events of my history aren’t different. “He picked the youngest, a girl only six months younger than me, and he slit her throat from ear to ear and took a finger of anyone that flinched as her blood splattered onto them. He said her blood was our penance and to live with knowing what we did to her would be our punishment.” 

I don’t tell them that I was twelve. I don’t tell them Anya lied about my birthday on the records. I don’t tell them I’m missing the very tip of my pinky--a small punishment for the twitch of my lip. “When Kenya is truly angry, he never hurts you--he hurts those around you.” No one responds to that. They’re making me seem like such a bummer. “It’s not awful all the time...he borders on agreeable when you listen to him.” 

Most days we have peace, left to our own devices as long as we accomplish certain goals. Their silence does little to unnerve me. After speaking so freely of such a nightmare, the desire to be rid of the taste of those words from my mouth is almost overwhelming, but I hold to the silence. 

“Why has he never sold you to the grisha that are so desperate for you?”

Of course Kaz Brekker would ask a question like that. “He isn’t the business of money, he’s in the business of creating gods. He indentures people he thinks could one day become saints or something else entirely. He wants to be owed by the heavens.” 

I watch Kaz carefully, a part of me curious about how someone like him could react to a goal like that. I can see him understanding the ambition of it all, but I can’t imagine himself a person of faith. Perhaps he’ll think it a clever trick. Perhaps he’ll even agree with Kenya.

He nods once; something I get nothing from. 

Whatever. He can be coy and distant this entire time. They all can. I’ll be out of here soon enough, and I’ll find Anya. And if I can stop something bad from happening to Alina then that’s a bonus I’m willing to take risks for. 

“That man is awful.” 

Inej’s voice comes from right behind me. I snap my head around. “You’re in here.” 

She nods once, oblivious to how shocking her sudden appearance is. She hands me a knapsack casually, staring at Kaz. “What’s the plan? We have six hours.” 

I look around the room, only seeing one closed window and one closed door. “There’s one door in this room.” 

“We take the Inferni to the ship.” He doesn’t even bother looking in my direction. 

Okay, they can be mean to be all they want but they can’t ignore me. I don’t think I’ve ever been ignored in my entire life. Gods in the making get attention. It may be the cruel attention of fate, but it’s something. 

“Did she come in through the window?” 

Again, I am ignored. 

“And then what, boss?” Jesper casually crosses the room, sitting down next to me on the small couch. It’s like I’m not even here. “We’d need to break into the Little Palace to get Alina.” 

What? “You guys are going to--” No. No. I am not kidnapping Alina. And there’s no way she’d be in the Little Palace. “First off--if you want to kidnap Alina Starkov for whatever insane ploy you’re all playing at, you’d never find her at Little Palace. She’s not a Grisha and second--” I cut myself off, standing from my seat. “Why am I even telling you this? I shouldn’t be helping you kidnap her.” 

Kaz’s eyes dart to me boredly. At least it’s some kind of acknowledgement of my existence. “I thought you two weren’t close.” 

I seriously consider scorching him. Just a little. Not even enough to scar him, just enough to get him to shut up. “She’s still a person who has a right to her body and what happens to it.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but if we pull this off we get one million kruge.” 

What does he think I’m going to say? ‘Okay, well as long as you’re doing it for a good reason.’ Is that the response he expects. “Okay, well that makes it fair.” 

His eyes narrow skeptically, but Jesper is the one to ask, “Really?” 

“No,” I scoff, slumping back into my seat, “I was being sarcastic.” 

I drop my head back, neck craning over the back of the small couch. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it makes it easier to ignore them. I’ve kept worse company for less. There’s an odd silence for a long second. I look forward without moving, I see Kaz vaguely gesture in Inej’s direction.

“Y/n,” Inej’s voice is refreshingly measured, “I think after the kinds of things we’ve gone through we understand that there’s some relativity in morality.” 

I shift my head to the right so I can look at her. “...Yes, but you’re just forcing another girl into a similar situation.” Why is Alina even worth so much? “And why would anyone pay so much for Alina?” 

Inej hesitates, glancing at Kaz and then back at me. “She’s a Sun Summoner.” 

On instinct, I straighten entirely, my body rigid. They’re insane. “You all are cracked if you think Alina’s a Sun Summoner.” No. No. It couldn’t be her. “Bless your hearts, seriously, she’s--she was trained to be a map maker--she’s not…” None of them relax, none of them shift in any way. What good would lying about this bring them? They have no reason to lie about this. “Saints, I should have had more to drink while downstairs.” 

So what if she’s a Sun Summoner? She didn’t ask to be one. She doesn’t deserve this. I cross my arms. “It doesn’t make this okay.” 

“And would it make it okay if you were getting a cut of the profit?” What? 

Kaz is looking at me in that tactful way. It takes all of my focus to not let myself become unnerved. “What?” 

“If I offered you a cut, would you be able to push aside more protests in order to make working with you easier?” 

Could I do it? Could I betray Alina? I drop my gaze away from his, opting to focus on the forgotten lantern on the coffee table in front of me. It flickers to life with no conscious prompting on my part. The flame is low and blue. Still though, Kaz notices it. What doesn’t he notice? 

“I can help you do what I agreed to.” I swallow around a lump in my throat, “But I cannot help you kidnap Alina.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs downwards. “We’re just going to get her to work with us.” 

“Work with you?” 

“We never said anything about taking her, and if Alina is really your friend you should know that the entire world is after her. Better us who can get her out of an unwanted situation quickly than the brutal General Kirigan who will hold her hostage until she does what he wants.” 

...I guess he has a point. “Oh.” I’m not naive enough to think that their methods will revolve around making Alina comfortable, but perhaps it’s not as dark as I assumed. “Maybe I was a little quick to assume…” I trail off awkwardly, looking at Inej for some type of reassurance. She avoids my gaze. 

I scratch the back of my arm, feeling like a spiraling child. I pick up my knapsack and place it on my lap, fiddling with the strap. 

“Come on,” Kaz stands, adjusting his grip on his cane, “We only have until sunrise.” 

As I stand, I pull down the skirt of my dress, suddenly aware of how inappropriate my clothing is for this late in the night. “Can--can I change first?” 

It’s a sheepish question, leaving me feeling like a child. 

“Five minutes,” Kaz offers, stepping out of the room with the rest of them. 

Inej leaves last, feet more silent than a cat. She offers me the tiniest hint of a smile. Despite my reservations, I beam at her. Something about me finds her politeness endearing despite it all. I think she closes the door loudly on purpose, to assure me of privacy. 

Normally changing in a building so full of drunk men would leave me nervous, but knowing Inej is outside leaves me feeling safe. I may not trust her with my life but something about her being tells me she values personal autonomy enough to protect it. 

I sift through the belongings Inej brought me. Clean underwear I try not think of her searching for, a thin white dress, comfortable pants, shorts, a few casual shirts, my red hood, and a nightgown. When I get to the bottom of the bag, and I see the personal belongings Inej smuggled back for me, I’m moved so powerfully my hand flies to my mouth on instinct. She had brought the folded up piece of paper with the only information I’ve been able to find about Kamil, the book I left on my nightstand, the small candle holder Alina had given me the day before I was taken away, the blade Mal had given me the day I left, the deck of playing cards Anya had first taught me to play with, and my mother’s necklace. The silver north star on a long chain. 

Before I can become too emotional, I take off the Crow’s Club T-shirt Inej had given me when I looked cold. I change into black pants, tucking the small blade Mal had given me into the pocket. The shirt I put on is pale blue, breaking the dark theme of everything around me. I fasten my red hood over my shoulders, basking in the familiar fabric. Lastly, I pull the north star necklace over my head, watching the blue orb with a black dot at its center blink at me in the light. I always found the stone at the pendant’s center odd. I'm quick to walk towards the door, nervous about what wasting their time could mean. 

“Let’s do this,” I sigh, pushing open the door. 

They all pause. Or maybe they were never moving. I try to imagine them interacting normally, but it’s hard to picture them as anything but intense and unflinching. There’s something odd about them, though, Jesper practically sulking and Kaz dropping his head despite Inej’s harsh stare.

“What kind of stone is in your necklace?” 

I swear to the Saints that if Kaz Brekker tries to steal it I’ll melt those leather gloves into his hands. “Try to take it and--” 

“That’s what I get for trying to make ‘polite conversation.’” He throws a look at Inej as he speaks the last two words. 

Wait--did Inej tell him to try to make polite conversation? Wait--more importantly, did he just kind of, almost say something that borders on casual? 

Wrinkling my nose, I let out a slight sigh. “Sorry.” 

His eyebrows draw together quizzically. “Did you just apologize for assuming I’d steal from you?” 

Great. Now I’m fully embarrassed. “Can we just go?” 

“Not before meeting me, I hope.” The stranger’s voice means nothing to me, but the others tense at it immediately. What? The man continues to walk forward, his steps too casual and confident for me to trust. The stranger is quick to respond to the question on my face, “Pekka Rollins.” 

--

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/32979520/chapters/83900458#workskin

part 2 of kaz and inej matchmaking emma!au

ft. bed sharing, flashbacks, nina and matthias and way too many pop culture references