"Do you know what the girls back at the White Cathedral called him? Beznako.”

A lost cause.

          – Ruin and Rising, Leigh Bardugo


thirstyagron:

I never will.



"So many men had tried to make her a queen. Now she understood that she was meant for something more. The Darkling had told her he was destined to rule. He had claimed his throne, and a part of her too. He was welcome to it. For the living and the dead, she would make herself a reckoning. She would rise." | insp

"So many men had tried to make her a queen. Now she understood that she was meant for something more. The Darkling had told her he was destined to rule. He had claimed his throne, and a part of her too. He was welcome to it. For the living and the dead, she would make herself a reckoning. She would rise." | insp

posted 2 weeks ago via lbardugo · © hearthorne with 175 notes

“I will pray for you, Alina Starkov.”


“He leaned against the window, and the gilded frame came into sharp focus. “Do you think it would be any different with your tracker beside you? With that Lantsov pup?”
“Yes,” I said simply.
“Because you would be the strong one?”
“Because they’re better men than you.”
“You might make me a better man.”
“And you might make me a monster.”


"Do you know what the girls back at the White Cathedral called him? Beznako.”

A lost cause.

          – Ruin and Rising, Leigh Bardugo


theloupgaroux:

I sought Morozova’s amplifiers for you, Alina, that we might rule as equals.


“I hope you weren’t looking to me to be the voice of reason. I keep to a strict diet of ill-advised enthusiasm and heartfelt regret.”

posted 1 month ago via starkovs · © daylightres with 258 notes


The less you say, the more weight your words will carry.
The less you say, the more weight your words will carry.
posted 1 month ago via starkovs · © parbatais with 107 notes

I took another step. He stilled. Our bodies were almost touching now. I reached up and cupped his cheek with my hand. This time the flash of confusion on his face was impossible to miss. He held himself frozen, his only movement the steady rise and fall of his chest. Then, as if in concession, he let his eyes close. A line appeared between his brows.

“It’s true,” I said softly. “You are stronger, wiser, infinite in experience.” I leaned forward and whispered, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “But I am an apt pupil.”