Leighbardugo - Tumblr Posts
yuyeh sesh
despise your heart / hate it hate it hate it / let go of love, of hope and all / things that make you human /
to love / is to destroy / to make weak the warrior inside you / fierce has no need for kindness / there is no mercy /
to be loved / is to be destroyed / that gentle hand, that loving touch / only prepares you for a blade / to come crashing down upon your head /
i have no heart. i loved with it and was loved; my love was killed and my heart ripped out. i despised it as i held it in my hands, still beating. i hated it, what it had done to me, how it had torn me apart. i crushed it and let the pieces fall. ni weh sesh.
i have no heart.
Detail I haven’t noticed anyone talking about
You know something I noticed about six of crows that I don’t see anyone talking about so maybe I’m just overthinking it?
Jan Van Eck is always on about how Wylan is stupid and useless because he can’t read, right?
But Wylan goes on the Ice Court Heist, considered suicidal and impossible, and he may not be a POV character in SOC or as flashy as Jesper, but he does play an important role. He gives them information on the layout of the Ice Court. He draws maps. He gives us the iconic “just girls?” moment. He saves Jesper’s life by pretending to be drunk. He helps them at the harbor when they’re ambushed before leaving, setting off a flash bomb. He helps get the tank. He voluntarily disguised himself as Kuwei to trick his father--also to, you know, see if his dad would actually kill him, but it was hard to do, knowing he might never get his real face back again.
Nobody notices that Wylan can’t read or write for the ENTIRE novel. There’s a moment where he doesn’t have his map labeled, but I only caught it on a reread, and his explanation that he doesn’t know Fjerdan is honestly convincing. Nobody thinks about how he has trouble reading signs or thinks too hard on why he doesn’t have his map labeled. Wylan gets through a whole ass novel without anyone noticing his inability to read. The book doesn’t have to go into long arguments about how not being able to read or write, or being otherwise unable to do things that others can or exactly the way they can, doesn’t make you stupid or helpless. Because Kaz shows us long before we get deep into his own thoughts regarding his disability. And Wylan showed us way before we even knew he had one.
Anyways, Six of Crows is a gift to humanity, bless Leigh Bardugo :)
Suffering is cheap as clay and twice as common. What matters is what you make of it.- Bhagra.
0 | Prologue
PAIRING: The Darkling / Aleksander Morozova x OC
WARNINGS: blood, violance, angst, hurt, paranoia, hinting at death, anxiety, panic attack, threatening, persecution
WORD COUNT: 1K
Masterlist Dark Blood and Light Masterlist
PREVIOUS . 0 | PROLOGUE . NEXT
Running, a term awfully familiar to the fleeing shadow. She knew this could mean her end and she was on her own.
No one helping. No one to cling to in her last moments. No one that would mourn over the person running in the dark.
Bare feet were hurting as the ginger-haired woman ran through the deep gloomy forest, her eyes constantly searching left to right, desperately trying to find a way to escape the unavoidable. Leaves scrunched beneath her, and the raw feeling of the snowy earth send shivers down her spine.
Regrettably, caring about such insignificant things were the least of her worries as the sound of clapping horse hooves was getting louder and louder.
The young woman knew looking back towards her followers would seal her fate, not only for her but so many others.
Escaping them seemed to be impossible, every turn she took only bought them closer. An indescribable pain ran through her left thigh, but she could not stop now, she was so close. Only a little bit further and she would have escaped them.
Dark red liquid poured down into the pure snow and her footprints, leaving a trail as she kept on limping towards her freedom.
Without warning her feet buckled under her weight. The sole thing the woman could feel, as she tumbled down the hard forest ground, were the branches pulling at her hair, scratching her and the small bork pieces that kept sinking into her tender flesh.
The ginger-haired woman’s kind eyes felt heavy, the blood loss and constant running finally taking its toll.
But the only thing her mind wandered to were dark obsidian eyes lovingly staring down at her and warm embraces that used to make all of her fears disappear.
As she laid there helpless the three men kept closing in on her, merciless looking under every nook and cranny. Bringing up her last bit of strength, scarred terribly shaking hands grasped the earth beneath her in a last attempt to escape. The woman’s vision was hazy. Barley making out her surroundings she kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Now listening to the small sounds of sturdy boots getting louder, she slowly crawled towards her last hope of surviving: an old tree trunk. Letting herself rest against it, hidden from their sight, her breath came out short and hasty. The woman’s chest clenched as her heart put up the courage to finally take a look at her visible wound. A bullet was burning itself inside her leg from deep within. The unbearable pain that she felt as her nails plugged inside the open bleeding flesh made her want to scream in agony.
It was hard motivating her body to not give up on her as her vision faded over and over again. The young woman knew her body would not endure the pain much longer, but she had to; she could not abandon him, not after all these years. Gradually pulling the bullet out of her body, concentrating on not making a sound, made her careless as she failed to notice her pursuers inching closer to her hideout.
Now that the bullet was finally gone, blood gushed out in long thick streams. Her relieve was short lived as she committed the most mindless mistake of her entire life: she called for him, wishing for a miracle.
A distance away, a deep scratchy voice called out for his companions, having finally determined her location. Ragged breaths increased as she slapped her hand over her own mouth and shut her eyes out of fear. Silently she prayed that her savior would rescue her once again, even though she knew her prayers would remain unanswered.
Her time was running out, and she was torturously aware of that. A painful sting ran through her scalp as she was harshly jerked upwards. The young woman's body was too exhausted to fight back as the man kept her captivated. Two silhouettes stepped forward, smiling as they imagined the fear reflecting in her radiant light blue eyes that resembled the sky and silk sash of the royal bloodline.
She could barely make out the look of the two silhouettes as her vision failed her once again. That moment she knew, her life was not hers anymore, it laid within the hands of her adored saints.
As they came towards her slight frame the snow seemed to melt after every step they took. An ironic warmth wrapped itself around the red heads body and blinded her fear, transforming it into a gentle feeling of acceptance.
Not long after, they stopped. Mockingly looking down at the traitorous human right before them.
Both fit perfectly into the scenery, covered in mud, leaves and every dirt that laid underneath the snow. It was well deserved, she thought; at least she made them struggle. The person who stood before her possessed similar hands to the ones captivating her. He was immensely large and bulky in comparison to the other man beside him, who stuck out like a sore thumb. Brilliant colors were the other persons way of presenting his noble heritage. She could not manage to make out every detail of his checkered west or his expensive sash that clearly showed his superior status, but she would always remember his eyes. His beautiful ocean blue eyes that glimmered like he just received the most extraordinary gift he had ever been gifted.
Hot salty tears stung as they ran down her once smooth face while she kept on thinking about all the horrid things they could do to her, and it only got worse the longer she thought about them.
His delighted grin grew as her fear finally rose above the surface; happy the handsome man could grasp her trembling beneath his eyes.
Eagerly he took three large confident steps towards her cowering frame, now crouching down to her height. Gently he grabbed her chubby chin between his elegant fingers and twisted her head upwards, facing his own. Tilting his youthful face towards the shell of her ear, he whispered in a pleasant voice glazed with honey but poisoned with amusement and a hollow soul.
„Got you little dove“
Written in 2021. Do not copy, translate or reposte without my permission
Hello! I hope you enjoyed the prologue, even though it propably could have been longer. I again apologize for all my spelling and grammer mistakes, as you know English is not my natice language, but I tried to erase as many mistakes as possible.
If you find any mistakes, please make sure to inform me of them!
shadow and bone
the darkling
dark, blood and light (series)
Rip Kaz Brekker. Wish we could’ve seen you pull a man’s eyeball out