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seronsalk · 2 months

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A pretty little nightingale...

Part 1

Alastor x female reader (sorry gents and non-binary pals, I'll do you next!)

Masterlist AN: An idea I've been obsessed with recently...sorry if it's bad. Dividers from our lovely @saradika-graphics Warnings: Mention of Violence

"Sometimes I stare at my ceiling for so long that I forget where I am. I forget I am in a fiery pit where at any moment a knife could be jabbed into my shoulders or back and twisted. At any moment I could be killed, kidnapped, tortured, or even feasted upon. Would I taste good? Would my killers be satisfied with my death or would they too be disappointed in what I could have been for them? And even now as my alarm goes off, I wonder where my soul would go if I did one night, not wake up."

The morning in hell was pretty normal to the morning's you were alive. Wake up, get ready, go downstairs to the club, dance and sing. That beautiful structure, belting one's heart to an audience every day with no worry.

Until you found yourself doing the same thing, but in your afterlife. In hell. You will forever curse yourself because who else would you blame for your eternal damnation?

As you walked down the stairs to the dark empty club, the other performers were there already practicing.

"Look who rolled out of bed! And how is our princessa this morning?" Dante spoke, he was an insufferable demon to be around this early in the morning, and that Spanish accent rolled off his tongue right into his trumpet. He was a beautiful demon; all the musicians were. It made you wonder why such pretty boys were stuck down here with you.

You smiled at him before speaking, "doing just fine til you opened your mouth, save your air for the horn." Another musician whose name was Hernando, forced everyone to refer to him as Sir Pesci for some weird reason then spoke with a laugh in his voice. "As if saving his air would help him sound better!"-"Hey Hernando, did your mom get the flores I sent her?" Dante suddenly spoke. "Ahhh, vaffanculo," the Italian man cursed back as he waved his hands dismissively at Dante.

You laughed at the scene as the other band members didn't understand a word being said under the accents before they all turned to you. It was warm-up time and it would go on for at least three hours.

By the time the jazz club was about to open you had dolled yourself up. The servers and bartenders had finally rolled in.

Throughout your shift many older sinners had trotted in at the sound of the music. But as you went to take a break in-between songs Dante came up to you. "Y/N, apparently some big shot wants to talk to you backstage."

You looked at him curiously, "Why m-" but you were cut off by your boss. He was an arrogant man who cared less for what others thought of him unless they were giving him money or popularity. One time just to get him to hear you when you complained about fixing the door in your dressing room, you had to pay him twenty bucks. He was built like a bull and like a bull, he sometimes charged in without thought or reason.

"Y/n let's go, got a big customer who wants to meet you!" he dragged you away with his bulky hands. Dante gave you a shrug as he walked off.

Alastor's POV:

It was a normal day in hell, he strutted down the road cane in hand. He was on his way to the cannibal colony to meet with Rosie.

When demons saw him they would jump into traffic or even through windows to avoid his gaze. His devilish constant smile sent even the tougher, bigger demons groveling.

As he was walking though, his ears twitched. The sound of jazz, but more prominent, a beautiful voice. He could recognize the song immediately, Heatwaves, by Ethel Waters. He followed the voice around the corner of the street and saw some demons trickling into a club. He twirled his cane in interest and his smile became wider.

He walked towards the bouncers, two of the biggest mobsters stood strong and firm, but one look at Alastor made them sweat. "Good'ay my good gents, tell me what is this fine establishment about then?" A little hint of Alastors transatlantic southern accent sprung like cattails in a bayou.

One of the bouncers spoke in an almost whisper, "It's The Spotted Fawn jazz club, sir." Alastor's smile widened in interest again. "Well, pay me no mind gentleman, I simply will be taking a look around." And with that, he walked past them and a second later one of the bouncers told the big boss.

He walked in, it smelled of rye and smoke. He loved the atmosphere, it was like he was in New Orleans all over again.

Then your voice struck his ears like lightning. He looked over towards the stage, jazz musicians playing behind you as you sang. Your h/l h/c hair bouncing as you swayed your hips to your own song.

Your boss had interrupted his train of thoughts, "Why I wouldn't have expected the radio demon to be in my club-welcome sir." He offered his hand to shake and Alastor's smile twisted as he ignored his hand. "Charming establishment you have here sir! I appreciate people who are still following the more traditional...ways." Alastor spoke his eyes wandering back to you as you danced on stage with one of the musicians.

"Say, my good man, who is that lovely dame singing?" Alastor inquired as he twirled his cane. "That'd be y/n sir, one of my finer performers." Y/n....your name twirled circles in his mind. You were gorgeous, as was your voice.

And for the first time in a while, since his mother and Rosie, he felt admiration for a woman. He spoke again, "Well I would love to meet h-" he was cut off. "2k upfront," was all the bull-built man said. Alastor's neck basically snapped as he looked at him, "Excuse me?" he said. "I don't trust any of you overlords and the last thing my performers need is the attention from one of you causing them, or me, problems. You wanna talk to her? Pay me or strike a deal sir." This bull had no class it made Alastor cackle. "Normally I'd kill you where you stand, but because I'm feeling generous about how lovely this establishment I'll let you off with a warning. Talk like that again towards me and I'll pull your guts out and serve them to your customers." His radio static backed his voice like a snarling panther. "Now about this deal, tell me what do you desire?" "Follow me we talk business in the back." The bull led Alastor away.

The bull brought her into his office, where Alastor was sitting. Her eyes widened a little, but she quickly sat down. "I was told you wanted to speak with me?" she asked. They were alone now.

EN: Hi guys so I like this idea, I was gonna make a part two, but let me know what you think!

#alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #x reader #hellaverse #alastor altruist #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader

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seronsalk · 1 year

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MY REACTION TO JUST THE WARNINGS

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s the night before the engagement party at the Spinning Wheel, before the plan you and Aleksander have orchestrated comes into fruition. Sleep eludes you, but Aleksander is able to offer a solution for your nerves.

Warnings [18+]: smut, unprotected sex, mentions of Grisha contraception methods, fingering, Aleksander’s sweet talking is a warning in itself.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

There’s a muffled thud in the hallway and your unsuccessful attempts at sleep are enough motivation for you to throw your covers back and move to investigate. It’s only once you reach your door, fingers curling around the handle, that you hear the whispered laughter.

There’s a small creak as you open your door, and the whispers lower themselves as you peer out into the darkness. Soon your eyes land on your next-door room neighbour.

“Fruzsi?”

She grins a little sheepishly as she turns further towards you, allowing the low level of moonlight to fall onto the person beside her.

“Hi Vatra,” you say quietly with a smile.

She smiles back widely.

“Hi.”

People often say that inferni and tidemakers don’t get along well, but despite their opposite powers Fruzsi and Vatra have always had the same determined spark in their eyes.

“Don’t stay up too late,” you warn them teasingly. Then you add, more seriously, “We have a big day tomorrow.”

They both nod, subtly drawing themselves closer together. Their eyes meet momentarily, a conversation without words being exchanged between the two of them. Then Fruzsi looks back at you with a smirk.

“The General’s light is still on,” she remarks pointedly.

Rolling your eyes, you can’t fight the smile tugging at your lips as Vatra turns the handle of Fruzsi’s door and the two of them disappear inside.

In the sudden silence of the hallway, you consider the doorway at the end of the corridor where a thin strip of light can be seen at the bottom of the door there. Aleksander’s door.

Without much prior thought, you slip back into your room and pick up your robe. Shrugging it on over your shoulders, you re-enter the hallway, closing your door behind you before you head towards Aleksander’s room.

There’s no hesitation as you reach his door, pushing it open to reveal the man himself as he sits frowning at some papers on his desk like he usually does.

Once he sees you, Aleksander stands immediately. He says your name softly, his expression mirroring the softness in his voice as he looks at you.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

Shaking your head, you step closer, stopping at the edge of the rug which lies in front of his fireplace. He rounds his desk smoothly, stopping beside the fireplace.

“Not really.”

With a small sigh, he sits down in the armchair beside the crackling fire, running a hand thoroughly over his face. His dark eyes scour over your figure as his fingers trace absentmindedly over the scar on his chin.

“You look tense,” he remarks quietly.

He’s right. There’s been a tension in your body all day, your muscles aching in anticipation of tomorrow - the attack on the Spinning Wheel that you’ve been planning over the last week.

“Come sit here,” he says in a low voice, gesturing towards the spot on his lap - the same space where you have often dreamt of curling up.

As you move forwards, preparing yourself to shift into your fox form, Aleksander shakes his head.

“Not the fox, I want you.”

Halting in your step, you frown when you realise he recognises how you look when you’re about to change form - and that in this moment he just wants you.

Slowly, you tread your way over the worn-out rug beneath your feet and stand directly in front of him. As he looks up at you, he settles his hands on either side of your waist, turning you around and guiding you into sitting with your back against his chest.

As you get comfortable, he settles his chin on your shoulder and turns his face towards the crook of your neck to nuzzle his nose there. The breath halts in your chest as you attempt to process the affection he’s offering you.

Turning your head to look at him, you meet his gaze and the two of you stare at one another for a long moment. A thrill runs through you when he glances down at your lips and your stomach flips as he leans closer.

Heat prickles over your cheeks, the sensitive skin there burning at the intensity in his eyes. His forehead grazes lightly over yours and you breathe out a small sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

When the tip of his nose catches against yours unintentionally, longing claws desperately at you, prompting you into whispering,

“Aleksander?” He hums softly in acknowledgement, his eyes remaining locked steadily on yours. “Promise me this isn’t just a before-battle tumble for you.”

His brows lift slightly, and a tension enters his jaw as he traces his knuckles gently over your cheek.

“Has that happened to you before?”

The corner of your mouth twitches wryly as you look down at his lips and admit,

“Durasts stay at the Little Palace, we’re a last piece of familiarity for anyone heading out into the field.”

Aleksander leans closer, his nose brushing delicately against yours in reassurance.

“I’m far too old for meaningless tumbles,” he murmurs with a small smile.

Breathing out a soft laugh, you seize the courage to lean forwards, capturing his lips with yours. There’s a pleased little sound of surprise in the back of his throat and you smile into the kiss.

Aleksander’s hand cups the side of your face, keeping you close as he moves his mouth against yours leisurely. When he pulls away you’re breathless, gasping in air as you lean against him.

He lowers his mouth, sucking at your lower lip before he takes it lightly between his teeth. The fox buries himself down into your instincts, leaving your mind quiet while your body begs for Aleksander.

The urge to sink your teeth into his throat seizes you, making you long to worry the skin there and leave a blossoming mark, claiming him as your own.

“Aleksander,” you breathe out in a whimpering sigh. He moans lowly, bringing you back for yet another kiss.

He squeezes the top of your shoulders with both of his hands, running each of his thumbs over your collarbones.

“But why don’t we get rid of some of that awful tension, hm?” The corner of his mouth quirks and your stomach flips at the suggestive sweetness cloying his tone like honey.

“Aleksander?” you whisper, and he hums in encouragement. Embarrassment burns over your cheeks. “I haven’t… touched myself since claiming the fox. At least not properly.”

He stills slightly, tilting his head at you.

“May I ask why?”

Lowering your gaze, you look down at the creases in his dark shirt. He must have discarded his kefta somewhere before you arrived.

“The night I merged with the fox, when I returned I was just scattered pieces of a person that you managed to put back together.”

As you lift your eyes to watch his reaction to your words, his expression softens considerably under your gaze as you find the confidence to continue with your explanation.

“Every time I try to touch myself, it’s like I’ve forgotten what it’s supposed to feel like. Whenever I get close, I can’t do it, I just want you.”

“Me?”

Faintly, you nod.

There’s an unspoken agreement between yourself and the fox, and during your attempts at self-pleasure he has always left your thoughts alone. But even without his meddling your mind always drifts to Aleksander, something inside you protesting against finding your peak without him.

“Please Aleksander, I need you.”

He watches you intently, with far too much distance between the two of you for your liking.

“You’re sure?”

Nodding, you grasp the front of his shirt to urge him closer, and that is all the encouragement he needs to lean forwards and kiss you once again. Both of you sigh into the kiss, gripping tightly onto one another.

Aleksander’s hands push up the skirt of your nightdress, pushing it up to reveal your bare thighs. His fingers are cold as they trace over your flushed skin, and you shudder when he begins to play with the edge of your panties. Knuckles brushing delicately over your skin, Aleksander hums lightly in approval as you suppress the urge to squirm over his thigh.

Despite trapping your lower lip between your teeth, a keening whine escapes from your throat as he rubs firmly over the front of your panties. The sound makes you burn with embarrassment, pressing your palm to your mouth.

Aleksander curls his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand away from your mouth.

“I want to hear you,” he murmurs against your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your neck.

Hooking a finger into your panties, he pulls the fabric aside, pinning it to your thigh with his large hand whilst slipping another finger over the length of your dripping entrance. The barest hint of friction and you’re already moaning loudly.

Aleksander leans against you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he breathes out heavily.

His finger traces your cunt in a firm circle, collecting your slick as he increases the size of the circle with each rotation. Each time he gets closer and closer to your clit, a dizzying burst of pleasure warming your abdomen as he nears the small bundle of nerves.

A startled cry escapes you as he finally touches that sensitive spot, his slick-covered fingertip pressing firmly against the swollen nub.

“I know, darling. I know,” he coos, and a shiver runs down your spine at his words. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

His voice is soft and encouraging, not unlike the doting manner he uses when you're in fox form.

“But it’s alright, sweet girl. I’m here.”

Slumping against his body, you surrender yourself to his touch, allowing his other hand to wander over your body as the other rubs delightfully against your weeping cunt.

He tugs down the top of your nightdress, your robe already pooled by your waist. The air of Aleksander's room is cool and your skin prickles with shivers as his warm mouth presses a line of kisses along your shoulder.

Toes curling, you tighten your grip on Aleksander, unsure whether you want to scream or cry at the sensations. He mouths at your neck, murmuring praises and encouragements against your skin, accompanied by his own heavy breathing as he begins to lose himself amongst your pleasure.

“You’re safe. I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” he whispers and something inside you cries out in relief as you climax. His next words are faint over the roaring in your ears as pleasure floods through your body. “There we go, my sweet girl.”

Gasping for air, tears gather in your eyes and all you can do is cling to Aleksander. Bliss threads it’s way under your skin, lingering in your muscles and buzzing in your lungs as you catch your breath. He strokes your cheek gently and without thinking you nuzzle your face into his open palm.

His smile is fond when your eyes flutter open and you smile back. Slowly, he traces the tip of his finger over your lower lip, admiring the kiss-swollen flesh. He chuckles softly when you take his finger between your teeth in an affectionate nip before you tug playfully at his digit.

“Would you like to take this further?” he asks in a low voice.

Nodding with a small smile, you watch his expression intently.

“Would you like that?” you ask.

Instead of answering, he takes your hand, lowering it to press your palm against the sizable bulge in his trousers.

“Oh,” you breathe out with widened eyes.

His smile widens and he leans towards your lips.

“Oh indeed.”

He kisses you hungrily, hands grasping at your body as if you might slip away from him at any moment. Aleksander stands and the two of you stumble backwards towards his bed without separating from each other.

Somewhere along the way you tug down Aleksander’s shirt and he tosses your nightdress aside. Fabric hits the floor and soon his trousers and underwear have been discarded too.

When you collapse against his bed, naked body jolting with the impact, Aleksander follows you with his mouth, kissing his way up towards your lips. His teeth graze lightly over your breasts, and you whine as you writhe beneath him before he settles between your thighs.

There’s little time for you to admire his body as he hooks his hands underneath your knees and spreads you open for him.

His eyes remain locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort as he eases his way into your cunt. He moans as you gasp out his name, whispering it over and over as he presses his cock deeper inside you.

He entwines your fingers with his, locking your hands together as he rocks his hips forwards experimentally, pressing your body further into the mattress.

When he hears you moan after the motion he repeats it, settling into a steady rhythm that has you digging your nails into the space between each of his knuckles.

The old rickety headboard of his bed creaks, occasionally thudding against the wall to the beat of Aleksander’s thrusts, but neither of you care enough to restrain your vigour.

With your hands pinned under his, all you can do is keep your legs spread widely, hooking one of them over his waist as he changes his angle to take you deeper.

Dropping his forehead down against yours, Aleksander groans quietly, a tension in his jaw as he hits a spot inside you that has your toes curling with pleasure.

Aleksander grits his teeth.

“I would usually last much longer than this,” he admits, his breathing ragged and for a moment you remember that this is the man who has been taking tonics daily to maintain his health. “But with the merzost… and Saints… you feel incredible.”

Rocking your hips against his, you clench hard around his cock and begin to kiss along his throat and chest.

“It’s okay,” you whisper hoarsely. “I’m close too.”

“Where would you like me to finish?”

As your eyes flutter closed, you admit quietly,

“I know where Vladim keeps the contraceptive tonics.”

The rhythm of his hips jolts shakily and he slows as if to gain better control of himself.

“Inside?” he rasps. There’s a sharp glimmer of desire in his eyes.

“Please.”

He groans lowly. Releasing one of your hands, he splays his palm over your stomach, rolling his hips determinedly against yours.

“Here? You want me to spill inside your warm little cunt?”

Inhaling sharply, you nod before begging shakily,

“Please Aleksander.”

He reaches down towards your clit, rubbing the little nub as he continues to thrust inside you. Overwhelmed by sensation, you grasp onto his bicep with your free hand, digging your nails into his flesh before dragging them down his arm.

Aleksander gasps, squeezing his eyes shut as he reaches his peak and mere seconds later you climax. Through your own whimpered cries, you hear Aleksander groaning at the sensation of your cunt clenching rapidly around his leaking cock.

He slumps over you, a comforting weight against your body as your chests heave simultaneously in a desperate symphony.

Aleksander kisses you a few times, mouth moving lazily against yours as the two of you soak up your highs.

Once he slides his cock out, he rolls onto his side before collapsing at your side with his back against the mattress.

As you turn to look at him, you see his eyes fluttering closed. There’s a looseness to his limbs that you haven’t seen before, and although he still looks as tired as he always does satisfaction curls at the corner of his lips.

Gently, you thread your hand through his hair, playing with the dark strands, and he makes a small hum of pleasure as he smiles. His eyes remain closed and you’re almost totally certain that he could fall asleep like this.

But there’s a stickiness between your thighs that is becoming unpleasant, and you know he would be uncomfortable waking up with the dried remains of the mess currently on his thighs and stomach.

With that in mind, you stand on shaking legs and move towards the bathroom. Aleksander’s eyes snap open the moment you begin to step away from him. The weight of his gaze on your naked form is heavy as you fill a jug of water and retrieve a cloth from the bathroom cabinet.

When you return to his side you smile softly and begin to clean the two of you up. Aleksander’s attempts to help only earn him a gentle swat on the hand as you scoldingly insist on taking care of him.

There’s an intimate symmetry between this moment and the night you merged with the fox. That night, Aleksander had wiped the blood from your hands and face, bringing you back to yourself with patience and a gentle touch. He knows and understands you better than anyone else ever has.

Settling down at Aleksander’s side, you contemplate something as he drapes his arm over your waist and tucks the covers over you both.

“If I tell you something crazy, do you promise you won’t ask me to leave?”

Curiosity enters his eyes, and he tilts his head aside as he murmurs softly,

“I promise.”

Silence lingers for a moment. Then you speak.

“The fox thinks we’re mates. You and me.”

Aleksander brushes his knuckles gently over your cheek, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead before he tucks you against his chest. He rests his chin on the top of your head as he whispers,

“I don’t think that’s crazy.”

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marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @housekeeperjjswife

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

KYJ Tag List: @tartiflvtte @weepingwitchofthewest @issybee0611 @poemfreak306 @nanapuddingisasimpformrballs @writerloversjm @prochnost513 @meg-the-second-greatest @allinestarr

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seronsalk · 1 year

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THANK YOU ALL!

My Masterlist

YOU ALL HAVE BEEN SO INCREDIBLY KIND! <3

Happily knowing and seeing all you people like my Shadow and Bone fics has been making me feel so content! PLEASE REQUEST STUFF SO I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!!!

#ben barnes #grishaverse #fic writing #thank you #requests open #love youuuu #x reader

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seronsalk · 1 year

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A waltz with shadows

My Masterlist.

Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x Sun Summoner fem!reader

AN: I had this idea, and I changed some things because I always thought it was really silly how Alina, a girl from the army, suddenly just started trusting a shadow man. (It's not extremely romantic sorry)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mention of alcohol and other substance use.

Cute starry dividers from: @saradika (who is an absolute blessing with their creativity!)

Word count: 1,310k

It was the day of the winter fate and the atmosphere couldn't have been more busy.

The constant thought of the last couple of weeks remained at the front of your brain, everything was so different, especially you and the general.

You still didn't trust him, but the eerie longing feeling you had towards him lingered on your skin. Craving him to wrap his hand around your wrist again, no. You pushed those thoughts away, you didn't need a man to be there, Baghra was right as much as you hated to admit it.

As if on que, snapping you from your thoughts, Genya barged in holding a kefta and a servant brought in her kit before exiting swiftly.

"Saints, thank goodness I got here in time," she said widening her eyes at the look of your messy hair.

You breathed out a small laugh and with that Genya was at work.

"I know the general insisted on black for the performance, but afterwards I was thinking you could go back to the blue?" Genya expressed.

"Unless somehow he convinces me otherwise, I probably will, though I wouldn't want to come off as ungrateful, " you stated.

Genya paused her tailoring, "Don't feel like you have to always please him, I want you to be careful." "Careful of what?" you asked, a little confused.

"Powerful men."

"I know, I've seen a corrupted general or two, if he is like them, there is no difference," you stated, thinking back about some of the generals who you knew had used there army salaries to just drown themselves in liquor.

You decided to not clue Genya in on how you were weirdly drawn to Kirigan. Immediately hearing your thoughts say 'Kirigan' made you remember he had given you his name, though you had honestly ignored him.

Genya smiled, before continuing her work.

Later,

you both were walking through the hall and many of the ambassadors and guests of the royals were definitely gawking at you.

You were certain that if self control didn't exist a couple of them would have asked to marry you right then, not that you would have said yes.

As you and Genya walked you came to the main hall, "I can't enter with you, besides they aren't ready for you." However before she could get that through your brain, your gaze landed on Kirigan. He was speaking to the king and queen, you immediately walked in.

Murmurs caught his attention as he turned his gaze meeting you, you noticed his eyes wandered downward. His eyes were always so enticing as somehow you could see no emotion on his face, but every emotion in his eyes.

No matter how deep, dark and black those two pools were, getting lost in them was honestly a gift.

Before you could continue to think about his eyes, you came to your senses noticing he was now in front of you, "you were supposed to enter accompanied by guards," he said his eyes looking around before meeting your gaze.

Ah, there they were again, "You look lovely by the way."

"I can see you really got dressed up as well," she said with a teasing smile noticing he was wearing the same black kefta he always wore.

He smiled, "You don't like my different shade of black?" Then again their conversation was interrupted.

The Inferni twins started their demonstration, keeping the eyes on them and not you and the general for too long. Tossing balls of fire between each other with a few murmurs of interest from the audience.

When they finally ended their demonstration everyone clapped, but you nor the general did not. "It's time, let's show them all." He stated, before you could ask him any of your many questions.

He led you up on the wannabe stage-like platform before he drew the shadows into the hall quieting the guests and plunging them all into complete utter darkness.

As he turned, you focused on his eyes as you called your light. You split the beams into two and then heightened the light into the chandelier, like you had practiced.

Sending light bouncing off of everywhere in the room and the intensity of 'ouuing and ahhing' put a small smirk on your face.

When the light finally commenced, lots of them immediately started getting on a knee or so praying and saying "Sankta y/n." It felt extremely weird to be referred to as a saint.

The general helped you down and his facial expressions were unreadable, yet you found a strange emotion in his eyes almost hopeful.

Your suspicions had been confirmed when he simply said, "You are amazing, Miss l/n."

After being introduced to a few hundred people, you rejoined the general thinking about your bed and how tired you were. As if on que, the general held out his hand to you, "Would you like to dance?" You couldn't have imagined him dancing, especially with you.

As realization hit you hadn't given him an answer and instead left him patiently studying your facial expressions, you got out a quick, "I would love too."

With that he led you both to a part of the ballroom where a dance was about to begin. You grabbed his hand and rested your other on his shoulder. He placed his other hand on your waist and a chill was sent down your spine.

You both moved elegantly as one, and if anyone was watching, all they could see was the sun in the eclipse.

Your eyes locked with each other's as he spun you around before speaking.

"I know you aren't fond of my color on you, but I must say you look magnificent," he gawked.

Thinking on how to respond you smiled, "I must say its grown a little on me."

He smiled a little wider before they waltzed into a turn, even for a second of moving from each other's gaze it felt cold immediately, lost and empty.

And when it returned it was warm and sweet, safe and longing.

Feeling the need to say something you spoke up, "I would like to say that all these demonstrations of grishas abilities are honestly annoying, they aren't entertainers after all." He took a moment before responding, "No, We aren't." A slight smile creased your lips.

"It means a lot to know I am not the only one who doesn't appreciate these antics," he added.

Something in his eyes told you he was holding himself back on something else, but you didn't have to pry, he spoke softly, "You mean a lot to me and not just your power and what it means for everyone, but you yourself." That had your heart rate speeding up and you were sure Fedyor or Ivan were somewhere in the crowd silently smirking.

"Thank you," you paused before he pulled you closer for the last turn and in a near whisper so only he could hear it against his earlobe,

"Aleksander."

And the look in his eyes was all you needed to see, to know that he was your one and only future.

An: Alright shawty's I don't know about y'all, but this wasn't even like a big sappy thing I wanted, its just a little longing here and there let me know if you think I should I don't know make a part 2 or something!

Requests are always open, let me know what you got!

Thanks for reading, proud of you!

Shadow & Bone Masterlist!

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #general kirigan x reader #the darkling x reader #genya safin #fedyor kaminsky #fanfiction #sun summoner #shadow summoner #baghra morozova #grishaverse

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seronsalk · 1 year

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Shadow and Bone Fics

One Shots:

Tea Time

A waltz with shadows

Want more? Request information on my Masterlist!

#shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #masterlist #fanfiction #x reader

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seronsalk · 1 year

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(Graphic credit to @saradika-graphics)

AN: Hello! This is my alternative less private account, my ao3 account is under the same tag as this place. @seronsalk

I am not the most fluent in pronunciation or spelling, because I’m used to writing in a different style. I still hope you enjoy what I have to offer!

Request Information

I don't take fan-fiction requests from minors. I will accept Fashion Blog and meme requests though. (with the exception they are minor appropriate.)

I accept smut, I only ask you don't request anything horribly gross. I also ask you to respect the characters themselves, so if someone is asexual—not requesting a sexual scenario with them. Because I wouldn’t want to be disrespected like that either.

Multi-fandom, taking Requests for these:

Grishaverse

Dr Who

Westworld

Marvel

Star Wars

Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss

Lord of the rings & Hobbit

If you don't see a fandom you love, still feel free to ask!

Always accepting requests for fashion recs and memes!

Fandom Lists:

Shadow and Bone Masterlist

(More coming soon.)

Fashion Lists:

70s fashion

(More coming soon.)

Thanks for reading my Masterlist!

#masterlist #fanfiction #x reader #vintage fashion #fashion blog #memes #new writers on tumblr #grishaverse #lotr fandom #the hobbit #marvel #dc comcis #westworld #star wars

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seronsalk · 1 year

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Tea Time!

My Masterlist.

AN: I thought this was a cute little tea thing I wrote. Lol.

Warnings: Just some fluffy stuff!

lil dividers from: @saradika (thank you)

Word count: 301!! (short baby)

The general sat at a small table in his private chambers, the fragrant aroma of tea filling the air. You sat across from him, you had begun to notice he had taken a particular interest in something, your eyes.

Her eyes.

He poured two cups of tea, one for himself and one for you, and gestured for you to take yours. You felt nervous, but when he smiled reassuringly at you, it put you at ease.

You sipped your tea in silence for a few moments, the only sounds of the gentle rustling of leaves outside the window and the occasional clink of china on the table.

Finally, the general spoke. "I am pleased with you, y/n, your potential means a great deal to me." His words paused, something in his gaze changed, as if he was meant to say something, yet was denied the opportunity to do so.

Your face lit up with a smile, and you felt almost surprised at the praise. "Thank you, General." The silence had felt like eternity, but to him it was probably only a mere second you thought.

"You mean a lot to me," he said. "y/n." As your name left his tongue, he studied your expression, looking for a reason to immediately regret and deny saying it.

You looked down at your tea. "You mean a lot to me too," a little smile came across your face. "Aleksander." You did it, you had said his real name.

He smiled. He smiled.

Your smile only grew.

Aleksander felt a sense of contentment washed over him. It was a rare moment of peace and quiet in his busy life, and he savored it for as long as he could. Planning on replaying your smile in his mind until later when he was asleep.

I hope someone will enjoy this. crying.

#aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #the darkling #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader

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seronsalk · 1 year

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EEEEEEE I LOVE THIS SERIES

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Five

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Progress is made with your work regarding the amplifier, and you grow closer to the General.

Warnings: canon level violence (mentions of Grisha persecution, death, and amplifier claiming), minor spoilers for season two.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

“You cannot fix everything, child.”

A frown creases at your brows as you work on the rip you had caused in Fruzsi’s kefta during a sparring session of which she insists you had cheated. She hadn’t specified a no knives rule and hiding a blade up your sleeve has become a new habit of yours.

The frown on your face isn’t a result of the kefta, which knits itself back together neatly as you smooth a circular motion over the fabric with your palm. The frown is because the workshop is empty, meaning you are the unlucky target of Baghra’s scorn – something you thought you could live the rest of your life without.

“It’s a kefta, Baghra. I learnt to make these when I was twelve.”

She scoffs.

“I’m not talking about that measly scrap of cloth. I’m talking about your beloved General.”

Fruzsi would certainly be offended by that comment about her kefta and something inside you cringes at the old woman’s sneer at the word ‘beloved’.

Doing your best to ignore Baghra, you trace your fingertip over some of the frayed embroidery, using your power to weave the deep blue tidemaker pattern back into place amongst the glossy silk.

“The merzost is poisoning him, and there is no cure.”

Without looking at her, you muse quietly,

“No cure, yet.”

She hums mockingly, the corner of her mouth lifting into a smirk. Her clothing shifts against metal bars as she leans backwards on her stool.

“A little optimist.”

Rolling your eyes, you glance over at her.

She’s been playing the weak old woman act whenever David or Vladim have been in the workshop, hoping to incite some pity from them. After all, neither of them had been subjected to her lessons, unlike you, they don’t know what she is truly like.

“I know what you’re doing. It won’t work.”

She holds your gaze for a long moment. Baghra certainly isn’t afraid of you, but something makes her fidget with the bandage wrapped around the remaining stub of her finger.

Then she calls out,

“Stop lurking, boy.”

Turning your head, your eyes lock with the General’s as he steps into the workshop. His expression shifts as he looks away from you to glower at Baghra, his voice terse as he speaks,

“Mother.”

Finished with mending Fruzsi’s kefta, you stand up slowly, hoping not to draw attention to yourself. As you pick up your book of folktales, tucking it against your chest as you fold the kefta under your other arm, you feel the weight of the General’s eyes on you.

Giving him a small nod, you move towards the door he had just stepped through.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you say quietly.

He inclines his head as you walk by him.

At the sound of your name, you turn back with a small frown. For a moment the General doesn’t seem to know what he was going to say to you.

“Any further developments?” he asks, gesturing lightly towards the table beside him where Vladim has curated an extensive collection of ingredients.

The search for the fox amplifier meant that you now spend a lot of time out in the woods, and as a result Vladim’s desk has new additions on a regular basis. Whenever you find a plant that could be useful, you retrieve some leaves or seeds to aid him in his experiments – and hopefully improve the General’s condition.

“I made some adjustments to Vladim’s tonic,” you tell him, fiddling with the spine of your book. “Added bramble leaves which should help with your throat and the fatigue.”

As you’re speaking, your gaze flickers over his shoulder, landing on Baghra who stares at you with a pointed look that makes you bristle as if you can hear her thoughts.

There is no cure.

Almost instantly, you have a determined response. Not yet. But there will be.

He nods in acknowledgement, his eyes skimming over the cordials and glass bottles perched on Vladim’s desk.

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause between you both, as his gaze flickers over to meet yours and you offer him a small smile. For a moment you think the corner of his mouth moves to return you smile.

As the silence hangs, you step back.

“I should go.”

He nods again before he turns away and you step out of the workshop, making your way down the corridor towards your room to change out of your kefta and into your walking clothes.

»»---------------------►

Dampness hangs in the air, making the horizon hazy with mist as you walk through the trees, boots collecting dew from the grass you trek over quietly. Birds chirp overhead, providing you with some comfort. If the birds are here, then it must be safe.

Walking alone in Ravka is becoming more and more dangerous these days, especially for Grisha. First Army patrols change course regularly in an attempt to find the General. There’s been rumours of Grisha hunters – Ravkan not the Drüskelle – tracking down Grisha that had gone on the run.

The General doesn’t allow many people to leave the Sanctuary and he has increased the number of Grisha patrolling during both day and night to ensure the house is well protected.

Alongside Fruzsi and Fedoyr, you make up the small council that the General keeps, the four of you meet regularly to discuss patrols, rescue missions, and general housekeeping for the Sanctuary.

It feels strange, to have suddenly gained such importance for your people, but despite the pressure you feel, it’s much better than whatever meagre task you might have been doing if you were an ordinary durast.

A snap in the distance has you freezing in place, eyes scouring over your surroundings to seek out any threats. If only you were a corporalki, all you can do is clasp your hands together and search for any nearby metals. But there’s nothing. No armour, no swords or guns, no knives – aside from the one up your sleeve and at your waistband.

Then a flash of red catches your attention.

Hazel eyes lock on yours and the breath stutters in your lungs.

The fox. You’ve found him.

He moves slowly, gaze unwavering as he studies you intently. Halted mid-step, he places his paw down in front of his body, edging his way towards you slowly.

When you had heard that Morozova’s stag existed – a towering white stag with huge antlers – you had expected all amplifiers to be large and majestic. But the fox looks like any other you might find in the woods.

Except his eyes. There’s a cunning edge there that reassures you that this is the fox you’ve been searching for. Power glimmers in each strand of fur, dewy from the raindrops that cling to the tall grasses surrounding him.

Above you, the birds flee, and you immediately look around, hearing voices in the distance. Heart pounding, your gaze whips back to the fox, but he’s already gone.

Right now, your priority is getting back to the Sanctuary safely, without being seen.

»»---------------------►

From that moment onwards, you visit the fox regularly, bringing gifts of berries and dried scraps of meat whenever you can. His bright hazel eyes always watch you intently, a peaceful presence by your side as you sit in the long grass.

The first time you trace your fingers over its thick fur a shiver runs through your body as you feel the fox’s power sing in your bones.

The theory you have is that if you can bond with the fox before claiming its power then it might be easier for you to merge forms. In all honesty, you have no idea how Grisha of the past had managed to execute such a feat.

Perhaps it isn’t even possible. But you have to try. Not only would becoming one with the fox allow you to use the full extent of your power, but it would also give you an advantage over any opponent you might face.

The General hasn’t asked you about the fox recently, though you often spot him watching you intently as you train, finding new ways to use your power to fight. Maybe the fox’s power lingers inside you, even when you return to the Sanctuary, because your power seems to flow within you better than ever.

Perhaps it isn’t about you claiming the fox, maybe the fox is the one to claim you.

Nevertheless, you find yourself enjoying your days, even with the threat of civil war and the General’s worsening condition dangling over your head.

»»---------------------►

Whilst the tidemaker’s mist keeps the Sanctuary hidden, it also makes the air chilly, and the lingering moisture in the air clings to your kefta as you rub your fingers together in an attempt to produce some warmth.

A peaceful quiet has settled over the grounds, in this moment where sunlight has risen over the mountains but very few people are awake. Soon enough, training will begin, and Grisha will be bustling about as they hone their abilities in preparation for whatever your next move will be.

Confrontations with the First Army have been increasing and you’ve heard rumours of Grisha being executed by firing squad.

The small refuge built here by the General feels more temporary by the day. East Ravka isn’t a large country. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds the Sanctuary.

Shifting slightly, you attempt to ease the ache that has settled into your legs from sitting on the edge of the low stone wall. Tucked away at the back of the house, your position allows you to see into what was once a small garden.

Now, the rose bushes are overgrown, and the stone plant basins are cracked and crumbling, but watching the rabbits explore the undergrowth provides you some entertainment, drawing your attention away from the book of folktales sitting in your lap.

The sound of wood creaking has you turning your head slightly, as the door behind you opens and the General steps out onto the smooth stone paving that makes up the worn out patio.

The dark circles under his eyes appear more defined this morning, the symptoms of his merzost use must have been keeping him from sleeping. Perhaps you should suggest another cordial, something for him to drink nightly, to ease his symptoms and allow him to sleep somewhat soundly.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile as his eyes meet yours.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “May I join you?”

You nod.

“Of course.”

Bundling up the excess of your cloak, you edge your way closer towards the garden to give the General enough space to sit beside you.

“I read through your proposal.”

His voice is low, and he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. Looking down at your feet, you trace the toe of your boot through a dewy patch of grass.

“You think I’m insane.”

At the corner of your vision, you see the General shake his head.

“It has been quite some time since I last met someone whose ambition rivals my own.”

For some reason, his words bring a smile to your face. This man has done terrible things, dabbled in forbidden magic that is slowly corrupting his body, stealing his health from him. But the thought of being just a little bit like him makes a warmth settle in your chest.

Less than a year ago, you were an inconsequential little durast, tinkering away in the materialki workshops, making corecloth for the war effort.

Now you’re sitting beside the General, feeling a strange kinship with him.

“You wouldn’t have looked twice at me, back at the Little Palace,” you remark quietly, keeping your gaze away from his.

Two rabbits chase one another in the distance, weaving among the grass and leaves, kicking up dirt as they scurry about. It’s only once the silence has dragged on that you find the courage to look at his face.

His eyes scour over your features, studying you intently as you wonder what he’s thinking. His expression doesn’t change as he says in a low voice,

“Perhaps. But I’m looking at you now.”

»»---------------------►

The woods are quiet today, which unsettles you. Something in the back of your mind is warning you about something, but you continue along the familiar route towards where the fox likes to roam on sunny days like this.

At the sound of horses approaching, your heart hammers in your chest, and without a thought you take off running towards a mound of rocks where you know there’s a small cave.

Skidding as you near the entrance, you practically throw yourself down into the cave, pressing your back against hard rock as you strain your ears for the sound of horses or their riders.

Voices echo in the distant, but you can’t tell if they’re moving towards or away from you.

Clutching your knife in your hand, you attempt to slow your heart down, annoyed by the sound of it rushing through your ears and hindering your awareness of any oncoming threats.

At the sound of movement at the entrance to the cave, you retreat further into the stony depths, hiding in the shadows. The sight of red fur glistens in the low light and a pair of hazel eyes find yours.

Sighing in relief, you allow the knife to slip from your fingers, dropping to the ground as the fox approaches and you extend a hand towards him.

He moves over towards you without hesitation, stopping briefly to duck his head down by your feet before he nuzzles against your legs.

“You know what it’s like to be hunted too,” you muse quietly.

As you stroke your hand over the white fur at his chest, you realise what’s in his mouth. Your knife. Eyes flickering up to meet his hazel ones, you find an almost determined glimmer amongst the swirling golden browns and blues there.

Leaning back, you settle yourself down onto a chunk of rock, and the fox drops the knife in your lap, nudging your hand with his nose. Slowly, you curl your fingers around the hilt of the knife, eyeing the fox with a small frown.

“You’re sure?” you ask softly.

His eyes don’t waver from yours.

Tightening your grip on the knife, you look down at the blade as it shines in the low light. He licks at your knuckles, almost reassuringly. This is what you had wanted, the opportunity to become more powerful than you ever thought possible.

With your abilities amplified, you could protect more Grisha, perhaps you could even save the General. The theory you’ve been working on, balancing the merzost in his body, will require a powerful durast.

One of the reasons why you had been attempting to master the Cut was so that you could ensure that the fox’s death would be painless, but you hadn’t managed to do much more than a scratch with your power. The knife will have to do.

The creature’s claw should be a suitable material to create the connection between you both, and being a durast means you can fabricate your own amplifier as soon as possible.

Steadying the knife in your hand, you straighten your shoulders, breathing out a smooth exhale as you press the tip of the blade over the fox’s chest. Power thrums through you as you feel the metal of knife, poised to sink into flesh, the angle you’ve chosen will ensure it is unhampered by the bones that will amplify your abilities.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The knife sinks downwards.

»»---------------------►

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @housekeeperjjswife

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

KYJ Tag List: @tartiflvtte @weepingwitchofthewest

»»---------------------►

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