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mistiell · 1 year

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Strange Love Pt.2

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Healer! Reader

Summary: Your first day at the little palace goes relatively well. Until the General tells you that if you don’t take his offer to become an Oprichnik, you’ll be tried for treason.

Warnings: None as far as I’m aware

Word count: 2.3k

Part 1 < current > Part 3

The sun is just barely peeking through the window of your bedroom when you wake from a fitful sleep. The room is cold, the crisp chill of the steadily approaching Ravkan winter seeping through the glass panes of your window, forcing you further into your cocoon of blankets. After a nice long shower and some much needed dinner the night before, you'd returned to your room and passed out the moment your head had come into contact with your pillow.

With a sigh, you roll yourself onto your back, an arm thrown over your eyes to block out the annoying sliver of light that just so happens to be angled directly at your face. It can’t be later than six bells in the morning, breakfast won’t be served for at least another hour. You decide you might as well spend some time exploring. Getting to know the layout of the palace should aid you in escaping.

You roam the halls until breakfast, eating quickly before scurrying out of the dining hall. As confident as you are in your abilities, you feel it would be best to avoid Zoya for as long as possible. You’re halfway around a corner when you bump into someone, knocking you off balance.

When you regain your footing and open your mouth to apologise, you see the person you’ve just run into is none other than the heartrender you had rendered unconscious. He’s got a bandage on his forehead that you assume is because of you, “Oh, um… Hi.”

You offer him a nervous smile and he returns it, though his is a lot brighter than yours, “Hi. I’m Fedyor.”

Oh, so this is Fedyor. Great.

“Oh, Saints. Sorry for, uhm,” You point weakly at your own forehead to mirror where the bandage sits on his and he chuckles.

“It’s alright. I would have done the same.” His smile is contagious, but you still can’t help but feel bad.

“I can heal it for you, if you’d like.” He shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I was actually going to head to the infirmary right after I fetched you for the General.”

“General Kirigan wants to see me?” You ask, stomach twisting up in a knot.

“During lunch, yes.” He states, sensing your hesitance, “It’s nothing bad. I think.”

That does nothing to quell your nerves, but you force a smile nonetheless, “Alright. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course. Anyway, I’m off to the infirmary. I’ll see you later?” His words fill you with a pleasant warmth, briefly wondering if you’d made a friend.

The feeling is quickly squashed when you remember you don’t plan on staying.

“Yeah.” Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes, “Later.”

The hours after your encounter with Fedyor fly by. Practice in the anatomy room goes relatively smoothly. It seems your abilities are almost up to par with the others despite your lack of training, which is a pleasant surprise. Before you know it, lunch has rolled around and you find yourself standing outside of the war room.

You knock on the dark wooden doors, noting the carvings that mimic the ones to the dormitories, though this one bares a moon in eclipse. Your heart is thudding rapidly against your ribs when you hear the sound of his ‘Come in!’. You push them open and step through the doorway.

As you close the door behind you, your gaze roams over the room. There’s a large circular table in the centre of the room with what looks like well thought out plans scattered about the surface. Books and maps line the walls and the desk pressed against the far wall. It’s there that you spot the General sat looking over an important looking piece of parchment.

“General Kirigan.” He turns to you with a tiny smile that has you glancing over his shoulder to avoid eye contact, “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes, I did.” He states, gesturing towards a chair he’d pulled up beside his desk, “Please, sit.”

You make your way over and sit down wordlessly, picking at the grey embroidery on your kefta.

“I want to discuss your place here.”

“I thought you didn’t owe me an explanation?” You smirk and he huffs a soft laugh.

“I don’t, but I didn’t think it would be fair to leave you in the dark.” He states, gaze shifting to be a little more serious, “Do you know how I choose my oprichniki?” You shake your head, “Skill is an important factor. Ivan and Fedyor are two of the most capable heartrenders I know. They’ve trained for years, honing and perfecting their skills. What I want to know is,” He stares at you as if you were a puzzle, trying to put you together while missing half the pieces, “How did you manage to overpower him so easily?”

You’re silent for a moment. Should you tell him? What could he really do with the information if you gave it to him?

“I sped up my heart rate while he was slowing it. It wasn’t exactly easy, but I managed it.” His brows raise ever so slightly. He hums, and you think he almost looks impressed. You feel an odd sense of pride swell in your chest and can’t help the cocky little smile that creeps up on your lips. “That’s why you want to make me an oprichnik, isn’t it? I impressed you.”

He hums again, this one sounding a little more apprehensive as he narrows his eyes at you. There’s still a slight curl to the corners of his mouth that tells you you haven’t crossed a line, “Something like that. Speaking of, that brings me to my next point. The second quality I look for is loyalty, which is arguably more important than the first.” The humour slips from his face, his gaze turning intense, “Before I can place you in this position, I have to make sure you don’t have any intention of leaking any…important information, to outside sources.”

“What makes you so sure I want to be placed in this position?” He looks back down at the papers on his desk and sighs.

“If you don’t accept the position, you’ll likely be tried for treason.”

“Treason?!” You exclaim before clearing your throat in an attempt to compose yourself, “I haven’t done anything to justify being tried for treason.”

“Helping Grisha flee the country means less soldiers in the King’s army, which hurts our chance at winning the war,” When he looks at you, there’s something akin to sympathy swirling in those dark eyes, “No matter how pure your intentions were, they won’t see it that way.”

Anxiety prickles under your skin at the thought, but you furrow your brows stubbornly, “I told you. I run a clinic. Wherever they end up after they leave my home has nothing to do with me.”

He realizes that whether you’re trying to stretch the truth or not, technically, you wouldn’t be lying. You really wouldn’t know where exactly your patients end up after they leave. Still, he doubts you’d win against the king, “Would you like to take your chances?”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you huff frustratedly, “No.”

“Then I suggest you do your best to prove yourself.”

You have to stop yourself from scoffing. You’ve never been one that likes to be given orders, something he picks up on when he sees the way your jaw works and the way you glare over his shoulder for a split second, “What exactly do I need to do to achieve that, sir?”

If he picks up on the passive aggressiveness of your tone, he doesn’t say anything, “Well for one, you’ll continue your training with the other Corporalki.”

Alright, that’s doable.

“You’ll also be helping me with some of my paperwork.”

“What?” You frown, confused, “Didn’t you just say you have to make sure I won’t leak anything?”

“I did, and I will.” He states. It’s infuriatingly vague, but you don’t press him. Instead, you sigh.

“When should I start?” He smiles a little, grateful for your cooperation.

“You’ll report here after dinner every evening starting tonight. As for how long you stay, that’s entirely up to you.”

You nod, “Is that all?”

He thinks for a moment before nodding back, “That’s all.”

You leave without another word.

—

That evening after dinner, you find yourself outside the War Room once more. This time when you enter, the general is not sitting at his desk, nor is he standing at the war table. In fact, you’re unsure of whether or not you’ve got the time right—you swear it’s just after six bells in the evening—seeing as he doesn’t appear to be here at all.

You venture a little further into the room, hovering near his desk to skim some of the papers resting there. There’s a half finished letter sitting in the centre and you take a moment to admire the penmanship. His writing is rushed but admittedly very pretty as far as handwriting goes, the letters slender and slanted ever so slightly to the right.

There’s a distant thud to your right that sounds like a drawer closing and it’s then that you notice another door, one you hadn’t noticed when you’d been here earlier. It’s cracked open enough that when you lean forward over the desk to get a better look, you can see the corner of a bed and the edge of a dark wooden dresser. You lean a little further, placing a hand on the desk to brace yourself, and see someone standing in front of it. Someone who appears to be in the middle of getting dressed.

Your face flushes and you immediately right yourself as you realise that you’ve just seen none other than General Kirigan bare from the waist up. Granted, you only caught a glimpse of his back and shoulders, but it was enough to set your cheeks aflame and let loose a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

You back away from his desk and glance down at the papers again, finding a couple of the letters smudged a bit. A little panicked now, you look at your hands and find several backwards letters printed on your fingertips.

“Y/n.” You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, going completely rigid as you clasp your wrist behind your back and attempt to wipe the ink off on your kefta. He’s dressed now, donning a black robe that leaves a sliver of his collarbone visible. When you catch yourself staring, your gaze slides back up to his face and you find an amused smirk hung on his lips.

“Gen-,” Your voice cracks up an octave and you clear your throat, “General Kirigan.”

“I apologise for leaving you waiting. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” He comes closer and you back up to let him pull out his chair and sit down. There’s an awkward pause where you simply stand there rocking back and forth on your heels until he gestures to the armchair, smiling at you, “You can sit down.”

“Oh, right.” You curse yourself for being so flustered as you settle into the chair, “So, what am I helping you with?”

“You’ll be reading over and summarising some documents for me.” He sets a fair sized stack of papers to the side of his desk closest to you and hands you a large notepad and a pen. He clears off a little space next to the papers for you and looks up at you apologetically, “I hope you don’t mind sharing a desk.”

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head, taking the pen and scooting the chair closer to the desk. The documents he has you reading over don’t seem to be incredibly important, and summarising them proves to be a relatively easy task.

As you sit there writing away, the general can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye. Your brows are slanted downward ever so slightly in concentration, pen scratching against the parchment fast as you scrawl letters across the surface. He shakes his head subtly, turning his attention back to his own work.

Maybe two hours later, you sit back in your chair with a subtle huff and attempt to roll the stiffness out of your wrist.

“Perhaps we should take a break.” When you look up, you find the general leaned back in his own chair.

“That might be best.”

You take a few moments to look around the room once more, gaze landing on the nearest bookshelf and as you try to make out the titles from where you sit.

“Did you grow up in Duva?” He asks suddenly and you turn to him a little confused.

“Yes, why?” You answer hesitantly, unsure of his sudden interest in your life.

“Just curious.” He pauses, gaze flitting over your face, “I’d like to get to know you better.”

You pause and he notices the apprehensive look on your face. Still, you shrug, “What do you want to know?”

“What was it like living there?”

“It was just my mother and I and she rarely ever let me accompany her into town, so there really isn’t much to tell.” You state and he frowns.

“Why wouldn’t she let you go?” He asks and you shrug again.

“She said it was something about keeping me safe. Didn’t stop me from sneaking out when I was older, though.” You huff a soft laugh and he smiles at you before his brows furrow in confusion.

“You were alone when Zoya and the others found you.” He watches you tense and immediately regrets his words. A pained look flashes across your face before you will it to remain neutral.

You glance over his shoulder and swallow, “I was.”

There’s a moment of silence before the realisation dawns on him and a pang of sad understanding blooms in his chest, “I see.”

When you nod curtly and wordlessly return to your work, he takes it as a sign to stop talking and return to what he was doing. You only stay another hour before bidding him a rushed goodnight.

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova fanfiction #aleksander morozova x you #aleksander kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #the darkling #the darkling fanfic #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you

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bi-bard · 1 year

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Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with General Kirigan - General Kirigan Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with General Kirigan

Pairing: General Kirigan X Reader

Word Count: 1,921 words

Warning(s): manipulation, mention of death

Author's Note: I need it known that I am writing this will all the self-awareness in the world.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

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illicit affairs

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else And you know damn well For you I would ruin myself ...a million little times

At some point, being with Kirigan made me feel like I was invincible to the sick stomach and troubling thoughts that I had faced for years before him.

There was something about having him want me that brought me some peace. He offered me something that I had convinced myself that I was never going to experience. I felt like I owed him everything. My trust, my love... everything. I needed to hold onto that. No matter how hidden I was, how much time I spent keeping myself quiet... I needed him. I needed to be loved by him.

And then, Alina arrived at the Little Palace.

She was more than a beautiful girl.

She was a miracle. A walking gift from the saints. The sun summoner. The one that was destined to save everyone from the impact of the fold.

I should be thankful that she was found at all.

But I couldn't help the gross feeling that stabbed at my heart. Anger or sadness or something else entirely. I couldn't put a name to it. Not at the time.

The more I watched Aleksander with her, the more that the answer seemed to present itself.

I never wanted to express that feeling to her. It was truly no business of hers.

I never truly wanted to express it to Aleksander either. I would have been much happier to never disclose those feelings to them. They came with shame and guilt that were enough to seal my mouth shut.

Instead, that feeling manifested in different ways. Avoidance, misplaced anger... all things that I would go without noticing until later.

Aleksander didn't seem to have much to say for a while. I assumed that he was too focused on his saint to pay me any mind.

Until he confronted me.

I took a deep breath as I walked into his room.

"You asked to see me," I said as the doors closed behind me.

Aleksander stood on the other side of the large table. He looked at me with his annoyingly charming grin and his hands behind my back. His chin was raised slightly.

He believed he was royalty.

"I did," he confirmed.

I almost scoffed. "Please, share the reason for this meeting whenever you would like."

He raised an eyebrow at me as if I had proved his point before he had said it. "You're upset with me."

"Brilliant, truly."

He walked around the table, slowly walking over to me. "I assume that this has to do with Alina."

"Never assume that you know my feelings."

"Darling-"

"Please, don't use sweet names to distract me," I cut him off. "I... I have spent years listening to you soothe me with those names that are beginning to mean nothing to me."

Aleksander didn't have a response at first.

"I have no interest in being a secret or hidden property. Some little gemstone you place in a little box until you find value in me. You either see me as more than that or go hide away with your little saint and leave me be."

I looked away from him as the age-old guilt and sadness ate at my stomach.

He stepped even closer. His hand reached up and cupped my cheek, guiding me to look at him again. His eyes were always more intense than they deserved to be. Dark enough to blend into his pupil, giving me the feeling that my attention would be pulled to him. Fighting to pull my eyes from his would be like fighting the pull of the planet holding me to the ground.

"I never intended to keep you hidden," he said softly. "I have neglected you. That is not fair, but it was never my intention. I am so sorry, my love. Please... allow me to do better."

I took another deep breath.

"Please."

I wanted to believe him. I didn't want to pull myself away from the man that actually loved me. I just... couldn't let that go.

I reached my hand up and touched his. His grin only grew.

"I have every intention to hold you to your promise," I mumbled.

A chuckle escaped him. "I would hope so."

And all it took for him to keep me perfectly in place was to lean in and press his lips to mine.

I would have taken unhealthy love over no love at all.

it's time to go

I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all Then wondered why I left Now he sits on his throne in his palace of bones Praying to his greed He's got my past frozen behind glass But I've got me

I don't know when my embarrassing jealousy of Alina began to turn into this strange sense of sympathy and worry.

I could see the look on her face. One that I had seen in the mirror for years upon years.

This softness that so carefully masked the feeling of longing and yearning that Aleksander seemed to so easily command. The same feeling that had become all-consuming and ate at the very walls of m heart.

I wish I had learned to discern longing from anxiety. My fearful tuition from lovesick butterflies. Maybe I would have saved myself from some pain.

All I could do now was try to save Alina in the way that I should have been saved years ago.

Her escape path crossed right by me.

I could have stopped her. Tried to fight her. Yelled for Kirigan. Yelled for anyone.

But I didn't.

I would never be able to bring myself to do that.

"Go," I said simply.

Alina stopped, furrowing her eyebrows at me. That was the first time that I wonder how she saw me. I wondered if I had seemed so tied to the general's side that the idea of me turning my back on him seemed impossible. Like I was a pet.

"I will never get back the parts of my past that Aleksander holds," I explained. "But I will not let him take another ounce of my future. Or anyone else's. Go. Please."

She paused for a moment longer before stepping forward to hug me.

Every selfish, jealous thought that had crossed my mind while I had known her felt so heartless now. She was so much more than I could ever truly accept.

"Thank you," she whispered before stepping back and taking off down the path.

I knew that the chances were that I would not live long beyond the moment I let Alina go. I would never give Aleksander the answers he wanted. I was not going to be useful enough to warrant keeping.

And I was okay with that.

I would rather die by my own choice than live following the choices he made for me.

This was my end.

And I was happy to see it.

The Archer

I've been the archer I've been the prey Who could ever leave me darling... But who could stay?

I never realized how far I had run. I had no interest in knowing.

All I knew was that I was panting when I finally stopped. I looked around for a moment. I had found myself next to a fountain with intricate art carved into the base. The story of the Black Heretic. I was familiar with it. There were plants beginning to grow over the rest of the fountain.

I took a deep breath as I let myself fall. I sat with my back against the fountain's base, letting my head rest against the stone. I closed my eyes, taking even breaths for the first time in what felt like hours.

"What are you doing out here?"

I jumped at the sound of a voice. I looked over to see General Kirigan standing nearby.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he held his hands up for me to see his palms clearly.

"No, no, I was simply in my mind," I replied as I stood up quickly. "Distracted."

He nodded, taking a few steps closer to me. "May I ask what you have on your mind?"

"It is ridiculous, really," I tried to wave it all off.

I thought that it was best to hold onto whatever strength and composure I had. At the time, I only knew him as General Kirigan. He was powerful. So powerful that he was on a different level than the other Grisha.

"If you made your way all the way out here, then I have doubts about that," he said.

I took a deep breath. "Next week will be the anniversary of my coming to the Little Palace."

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"I am grateful for all that I've been offered here," I explained, hoping to not upset him too much. "However, my mom was the one who offered me to the Grisha so they could test me. She was... all too prepared to get rid of me. I... have trouble not feeling somewhat..."

"Abandoned?" Kirigan suggested.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Surely in all your time here, you have made some connections," he said, continuing to walk forward until he stood next to me by the fountain.

I shrugged. "Not truly. Many seemed to turn their noses up at me. Even those I did connect with would eventually walk away. I assume boredom."

"I'm sorry."

"Not really your fault, is it?"

He looked down for a moment. "It is the fault of my bloodline. The very reason the Fold exists. The reason that you were tested at all."

"I don't blame you. Not at all."

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Being blamed for our ancestor's mistakes does nothing but cause pain."

He nodded. "I could still hope to offer some comfort. Community to help make up for the lost time."

I scoffed. "And when you get bored of me?"

"I can't imagine that happening."

I didn't have a response. Not because of his statement, but because of his eyes. It was like they stopped me in my tracks. I wanted to say it looked sincere, but there was something more to it. Something just below the surface that I was unable to name, but I could see.

Kirigan seemed as transfixed as I was. His eyes jumped around to every detail of my face. He moved a little closer.

"May I," he asked.

I didn't know what he was asking, but I still nodded at him.

His hand cupped my face. I felt frozen. Entranced by the mere sight of him.

He leaned in slowly, carefully. As if he were waiting for me to run away from him.

When I didn't, that seemed to comfort him. It gave him enough of a push to press his lips to mine. I took in a sharp breath through my nose. I kissed him back, trying to follow his movements.

It was a short moment. One that I would have been content with playing over and over in my mind.

When Kirigan pulled away, I watched a grin slowly grow along his face. I grinned back at him.

I would later consider that my point of no return.

But at the time, I couldn't think of anything wrong with what had happened.

Being wanted was enough for me.

For the time being, at least.

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lostinthemind27 · 1 year

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“What are you?”

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Grisha!OC

Summary: Running and hiding. That’s what Arina was good at. She’s done it for years. Yet the moment she lets her guard down everything changes. Though she doesn’t know if it will be for better or worse...

Word Count: 2490

Warnings: Slight mention of wounds and acid burning. Some violence. I think that’s it? If I left anything out please tell me!

A/N: So I thought I’d share this A) because season 2 trailer of S&B is dropping tomorrow and B) because this has been sitting in my drafts since like last year. Also it is supposed to be the beginning of a whole multi-chapter fic, but idk when I’m gonna be able to actually get around to finishing it because I have like 10 other fics in my drafts...It’s a problem, I know. Anyways, came up with this because I thought that since Grisha powers are called “small science” I figured why can’t they expand their designated skill set and I always love the tent scene in both the book and show. Also this is set like centuries before the events of S&B. If that makes sense and sound interesting then have fun reading!

(Mood board was created by me! All the pictures were found on pinterest and belong to their rightful owners. I also have mood boards for both Aleksander and Arina which I’m still debating if I should share those...)

The howls carry through the air to her ears. The cracking of a twig makes her head look up from her frantic packing. She didn’t have a lot of time. The wind enhanced the crunch of the footsteps that they tried to hide.

They knew what they were dealing with, they’ve killed hundreds of her kind before without blinking an eye. This time shouldn’t have been any different.

She hoisted her bag up and let it rest across her body, the small satchel containing everything she needed. Her head twists, observing the snow-covered trees and ground. She can’t see them. Not yet, but the continued sound of footsteps gives her enough of an incentive to start running.

Her feet hit the ground as with each step her pace quickens, trying to outrun the hunting party whose steps she could hear match hers. The trees passed her as she weaved through the forest, trying to lose the hunting party in a wood they knew so much better than her.

Her foot caught a wayward root as she looked behind, crashing to the ground, her hands barely catching her before she’d face plant into the snow.

The growl of a wolf was in front of her now. The hunters closed in around her as she lay still, propped up slightly by her arms.

That wolf snarled at the woman as she stared at it. Its dark eyes reflected the moon and its pure white coat shone in the light. The woman and the wolf continued their staredown until she heard a twig snap, her focus shifting to the other hunters surrounding her.

She raised herself to a crouch, her eyes flicking from one hunter to the next, worried about some eager boy releasing his bowstring pushing her to slow her movements.

“Drüsje,” one of them spits at her.

She smirks to herself, slowly moving her hands closer together.

They tighten their grips on the bows and the wolves snarl once more.

Her hands touch and as soon as they move again, a circle of air blasts from her, knocking the hunters and wolves off of their feet.

She pushes herself to stand and takes off running once again. The hunters, wolves, and snow fade with each step she takes towards what she hopes will be her sanctuary.

**************

The screams were the first thing to reach Arina. Not the sound of acid fizzing, nor the smell of burning flesh, but the horrific screams of a fellow Fabrikator. Screams that haunt Arina’s nightmares.

Her feet started to move towards the sound, pushing aside the small crowd that had formed. A tingle emanated in her fingertips and slowly crawled up her arms, a sensation she hasn’t felt since she came to the Little Palace. The feeling travelled from her hands to the burning flesh under her touch, the sizzling stopping as the skin mended. She couldn’t hear the whispers of the people behind her or the grimace coming from her fellow Fabrikator, Arina was so focused on the wound in front of her that she didn’t hear the oprichniki enter the room.

She finally opened her eyes as the buzzing dissipated and connected gazes with the Fabrikator, who ended up being a girl named Iva. Instead of a “thank you” escaping her lips, Iva backed away from the older woman as she looked past Arina’s frame.

The fear in the girl’s eyes is one Arina has seen in thousands of people before when she displayed her power, but for once it wasn’t directed at her. As she turned her head her arms were grasped by two oprichniki. They dragged her from her feet and out the door of the workshop before anyone could say a word, including Arina herself.

They pulled her through the halls of the Little Palace, their hands still grasping her arms in a tight hold as two guards stood in front and two behind them. Arina felt like a prisoner in the one safe place for her people. “Where are you taking me?”

She received no response from the soldiers. Though as they turned a corner and the big black mahogany doors with the sun in eclipse symbol carved into them was revealed, it was pretty clear.

The soldiers standing to the sides, pull the doors open for the approaching party only to reveal the General standing with one of his trusted Corporalki.

“What is this?” The Darkling says, obviously annoyed with the group of soldiers dragging a Durast into his room.

“Moi soverenyi this woman, Yelena Ivanova, just healed a fellow Fabrikator after an acid spill.” One of the men in front reported as they stepped to the side to allow their General a look at the strange girl.

Not a girl. The Darkling studies the woman as she’s still held in the grasp of two of his oprichniki. Her light brown hair that’s tied in a bun with strands falling in her face, highlighting the beautiful shape and cheekbones of her face. Yet, for a practising Grisha, her eyes held slight bags and her cheeks look sunken in. She’s missing something, The Darkling thought. Though he puts aside studying her when it finally registers what his soldier said to him. A healer dressed in Fabrikator robes. How interesting. “What are you?”

“A Durast, General.” She answers with her head held high, no trace of fear on her face.

“You healed a fellow Grisha, something that is outside the skill set of a Durast.” He takes a step towards her, “So I’ll ask again, what are you?”

“A practitioner of the small science, nothing more.” He walks towards her with a small dagger. She knows what he’ll do, testing her again after she already passed as a Durast, hiding the other parts of her that are buried so deep down. “What reason do you have to test me again?”

“Call it curiosity. Now, your arm, please.” He holds out his hand waiting for her to place her arm in his grasp and motioning for his soldiers to release their grip.

Once they make contact, a rush of power flows through Arina. He’s an amplifier. As the dagger drags through her skin, she can’t hold the door close. His call is too strong, even after years of practice. That tingle that she felt when healing Iva grew to a roar through her body. The strength of her power cascaded down on her like a tidal wave after years of burying it deep down. While she felt the door break open a relief ran across her and a whisper from the man in front of her, “Don’t hold back.”

A rush of wind blows through the room, the candles burn brighter to a blinding white, the general’s heart rate picks up to the point he struggles to breathe while the guards around them start to collapse. The Darkling releases his grasp on her and their surroundings return to normal, his heart slowing down to a preferred rhythm.

“Leave us.” His voice boomed towards the recovering guards that resided in the room, dismissing the oprichniki and other Grisha.

The two Grisha study each other. The Darkling, a man who held himself with such power and strength was in awe of the young woman in front of him, whose skin brighten after her release of power. Though he didn’t know if young was correct. With her power, she could’ve been as old as himself.

Arina looked into the shadow summoner’s eyes. So dark and deep are the pools that hold so many secrets, much like her own. She could see the age and the weariness that he carried because she sees it in the mirror every day.

“How?” The General continues to analyse her as he waits for a response.

“How what?” The Durast feigns ignorance as she walks around the ornate wooden map table, studying the troop positions and staring at the scar on Ravka.

“You are able to heal a being with the ease of a born Healer if my soldiers are correct. You made the wind move and the candles burn like an Etherealki. My heartbeat sped up to a rate that only a Heartrender could manipulate it to. And you’re a Durast.” He takes a few steps toward Arina. “I will ask only one more time. How?”

Arina doesn’t know if she should tell him. Her walls have been built so high that no one was able to climb or topple them. And yet, when the Darkling connected with her a sliver formed. The door to one of her hidden rooms blasted open and she couldn’t fix it. Did she want to fix it? She’s hidden herself for years, trying to stay alive, trying to survive. She’s been successful. She found her way to a sanctuary, a haven for Grisha that only a few years ago didn’t exist. Why couldn’t she share what she’s learned? It’s not like it hasn’t been done before, give or take a couple of hundred years ago. But her secrets have kept her alive. She’s seen plenty of friends die because of just being Grisha, she doesn’t want herself to be next because she’s different from the rest. Yet the Darkling looks at her in awe, not in fear.

“I’ll make you a deal.” The Darkling scoffs at her, and she ignores him. “I’ll give you an answer for an answer.” She raises her brow at him, waiting for him to accept her rules. She knows he’ll accept, he’s too curious not to.

“And why would I accept that deal?” He’s curious, how could he not be? But he still has a reputation to uphold and he couldn’t be seen as to eager for her answer.

“Because I have something you want and the only way you’ll get the answer is if I get one in return.” She looks him in the eye. “Or else I can walk right out those doors and maybe even out of the Little Palace.”

No. The Darkling didn’t want her to leave. She could turn the tide and if she can learn how to summon the water, wind, and fire maybe… “Deal.”

“I taught myself.” He gives her a quizzical gaze. “What I learned most as a Durast is that everything, on a fundamental level, is the same. If I can manipulate wood or metal, why couldn’t I change chemicals? Or the human body? Or the flames? It’s not magic, it’s science. Or rather, small science. We do not conjure from nothing, we manipulate that which already exists around us, and everything is the same.”

“You taught yourself? How were you able to accomplish that in such a short time?”

“No. I gave you an answer, I want one in return.” He quells his curiosity for a moment, remembering the deal. He motions for her to ask. “How are you an amplifier?”

“Bloodline.” He answers simply, not willing to tell her the whole truth. His trust in others was shattered at a young age and only built again for a few. He didn’t think this woman had earned his trust, but maybe she could.

“I gave you a whole speech about the small science and you give me a one-word answer? How is that fair?”

“You wanted an answer and I gave you one. You did not specify the length of it.” He steps towards her, trapping her against the map. “Now, I would like another.”

Arina doesn’t shrink, she doesn’t look away from his dark eyes. “And what do you want answered?”

“How old are you?”

She’s startled by his question but hides it behind a smirk. “You should never ask a lady her age.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“I’m old enough to have seen the creation of the fold and the rise of a safe haven for Grisha.”

“Who’s giving the vague answers now?”

“Two can play a game, Darkling.” She analyses his face quickly, “How old are you? Your face may look young, but your eyes hold centuries of pain and torment.”

“Being hunted most of your life can add years to you. The pain and torment I hold is a burden shared by many Grisha.” He looks down at Arina, her eyes the opposite of his. They hold light, a glimmer he hasn’t seen in someone since Luda. Yet as he delves further he finds that shared pain. That shared suffering is covered by the warmth she holds for her people.

The Darkling takes a step back, distancing himself from the mysterious woman, and pulling at the sleeves of his shirt. “You’ll be moving to a different room and developing your skills with either Bahgra or me. You can continue to work in the Fabrikator workshop if you like.”

Arina couldn’t move. She couldn’t believe that she was getting treated differently than the other Grisha. Why was she special? She’s just another Girsha, it’s not like she can summon the stars or sun. Sure she’s a lot older than all of the Grisha here (minus the Darkling) but all she can do is what any other Grisha could. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you moving my rooms? Why am I being treated differently?”

“Because you are different.”

“I’m really not.”

The Darkling couldn’t understand why Arina thought so little of herself. She can manipulate the small sciences outside her original cast, and she thinks she isn’t special? She’s the only one to do so since Ilya Morozova, a man that used merzost, and she did it from years of studying alone. “Why do you discount how special you are?”

“Because I’m not special. I’m just a Durast that taught herself the small sciences. Any Grisha could do that.”

“But they haven’t.” That shut her up. “We’ll help you expand your abilities and maybe you can teach other Grisha as well.”

“And what do you know about the other classes?”

“Some. But it will be Baghra that shall advance your studies in the typical orders.”

“And what will you do?”

“I’ll help you grow.” He smiles. A genuine smile because for the first time in a long time, Aleksander has hope. “You may leave and gather your things, my oprichniki will show you to your new room.” Though as she turned to leave he remembered one more thing. “What is your name?”

“What?” She didn’t know what he meant. He already knew the name she gave, how could he possibly know that it was fake?

“Your name.” He approached her once again. “You most likely lied about your name when you came here, so Yelena, what’s your name?”

“If I tell you mine will you tell me yours? Because I highly doubt your real name is Leonid.”

All she receives is a smirk from him and she gives the man one in return. That smirk is the last thing he sees as she disappears through the door, both of their true names still kept in the dark.

#aleksander morozova x oc #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova fanfiction #darkling x oc #darkling #darkling fanfiction #general kirigan x oc #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #grishaverse #ben barnes

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crescentcampbell · 6 months

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ROYAL RAVKA UNIVERSITY: To defeat The Darkling, Aleksander Morozova was trapped by the Grisha in a time loop of sorts. Now in Modern Ravka, Aleksander must undo his past mistakes by making Alina Starkov fall in love with him. But with the Grisha having faded into mere legends, Alina's memories gone, it will be anything but easy. Posing as her mythology Professor, Aleksander must try to reawaken his Sun Summoner inn order to restore his people and power back to the land. But someone out there knows his past. Will he outrun the time loop he's been cursed into? Or will he have to watch as history repeats itself again in yet another era? *I used to be ArkStationsLibrary and I changed my penname.

A03 link Wattpad link

She rolled her eyes. “I’m friends with Mal Oretsev.”

He took a sip of his wine. “Schematics. You know me. If you wanted to, I could get you in. As long as you weren’t too precious about where you wanted to go. The world is yours, Alina. All you need do is ask and I can help you take it.”

Alina couldn’t help but be flustered. “That’s awfully kind, Mr---Aleksander. But I want to make my own way, even if it’s harder.”

He snorted. “Admirable, I’ll admit. Stupid, but admirable.”

She seethed at him. “Are you always so impossible?”

“No, but I know a do-gooder when I see one. You practically smell of innocence. I bet you’d taste like it too. The thing is, Luchik, you will get corrupted one way or another. We live in a world where darkness takes a living form, and sucks your soul before you pass onto the next realm. You might as well get whatever you can from this world before it tosses you to the fold.”

“Respectfully, Mr. Morozova, I like to believe that we can embrace whatever light we can get before the Volcra come.”

Aleksander scratched his chin, then chuckled wryly. “How young and naïve you are…”

“And how old and bitter you are,” she returned coldly.

He was looking at her again in that heated way of his. The same way he’d stared at her that first time they’d met at the school. Although he hadn’t been nearly so bold. He got his face dangerously close to hers. Alina’s whole body stiffened. “You know I think you like me old and bitter…” a smug look crossed his face.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #darklina #darklina fanfic #darklina fanfiction #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova fanfic #aleksander morozova fanfiction #alina starkov #alina starkov fanfic #alina starkov fanfiction #the darkling #the darkling fanfic #the darkling fanfiction #otp: like calls to like

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cannibalizedyke · 1 year

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🗝️aleksander morozova masterlist🗝️

key: ❤︎︎ - fluff, ☁︎︎ - angst, ★ - smut

coming soon!

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months

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hysteria

kinktober, day twenty-eight

a/n: look, we already know that I'm a nerd when it comes to medical history, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. only thing surprising about it is how fucking long it took for me to finally write this kinda fic, damn, because this fantasy is ancient.

summary: “miss, I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

warnings: doctor!aleksander morozova x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon, historical au, medical kink, time accurate sexism, fingering, sex toys (vibrator, fuck machine), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, size kink, squirting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation

word count: 1607

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

Eyes glued to the clipboard in his hand, doctor Morozova quietly read up from the list of symptoms he had just scribbled down, “…unmarried, insomnia, increased nervousness during social interactions… miss,” he then lifted his obsidian gaze and told you gravely, “I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

“I-I do?”

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” he laid the papers down on the desk before him, “seems like your womb is not where it’s supposed to be and that can cause all sorts of problems as you can see by your symptoms.”

Fingers weaved so tightly in the fabric in your lap it nearly broke through, ruining your dress, your panic began to bubble out, “what should I do, doctor? Is there a cure?”

“There is,” he nodded, subtly raising a hand up to soothe your nerves, “the way to relieve this disorder is by causing something called a hysterical paroxysm,” he informed, abruptly redirecting his stare down upon the woodgrain of the tabletop, “now, usually, if a woman is married, the husband is to perform the treatment, but since you’re not,” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “I’ll help rid your body of this ailment.”

“Really? Thank you,” you gasped, “what, uh, what does it entail?”

“Oh, it’s simple enough,” he waved a casual hand, “you just rid yourself of your undergarments and lay down on the exam table for me.”

“I-…” you blinked, eyes wide before you swallowed, “…alright…”

Getting up from the chair opposing his desk, you walked around the flimsy partition set up in the corner. Reaching under your dress, you timidly pulled your underwear down your legs, past your stockings and off. Folding the garment in a neat little bundle, you settled it on the small stool that stood back here before stepping back out from behind the cover.

Now settled at the bottom of the exam table on a seat, he gestured for you to get up onto the slab before you apprehensively did so.

“If you would please just put your feet up in these stirrups,” he adjusted the metal legs below you, “then we can get started.”

As you then shifted, settling your feet into place, your skirts tented and began to ride up, a gust of crisp air kissing your exposed centre and causing your cheeks to heat up.

Hearing his chair scoot closer, you then felt his touch softly ghost from your knees all the way up your thighs till his fingers were gently prying your petals apart. After taking a good look, he then briefly retracted his touch, unscrewing a nearby dark glass jar, swiping up some of the glossy contents before grazing through your folds once more, the cool temperature of the lubrication causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

“Sorry, if it’s a bit cold,” he murmured as he continued to smear it in.

Head faintly shaking, “it’s fine,” you tried just to focus on your breathing.

Pushing your dress a bit more out of the way, he told you, “just try and relax for me, it will go by a lot smoother if you relax,” his touch then suddenly changed, “now, tell me,” zeroing in and pressing down on your clit in a way that made the office around you go fuzzy, “how does that feel?”

Blinking down at him, you found that his vision was already firm on you, “I-… I don’t know… how is it supposed to feel?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” he rubbed a bit harder, “so, does it feel good?”

“I-I guess so,” your vision fluttered back up towards the ceiling, the doctor’s dark eyes being too much to stand, “yeah.”

“Good, good,” his attentive touch then shifted, “now let me just have a feel inside. Deep breath for me,” your lungs expanded at his command, “there you go,” and his long finger pressed inside, gently curving it around against your walls as he examined, “yep, there it is… your womb, it’s in the completely wrong spot,” he swiftly worked another digit in, watching as you stretched around his fingers, “it’s good that you came in now before it got even worse,” pulling back out, he ended the contact with an unnecessary rub against your buzzing clit.

As he then scooted a bulky and mysterious machine over, you asked nervously, “w-what is that?”

“Just a little apparatus that’s gonna help cure you,” he twisted a vaguely phallic shape into place at the end of the device’s long arm. After noticing your startled expression, you felt his warm hand sprawl across your thigh, “don’t worry, love. It’s all gonna be just fine,” lining it up, “just try and lay still,” he turned a switch and the attachment slowly drove into you.

“Oh my god!” your palm slammed down against the exam table.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he caught your eye till your body slowly began to give in, calming under his gaze. Reaching his right hand up, he tickled your puff as the gadget slowly eased in and out of you, “you’re doing great so far, just relax for me,” you saw his free fingers sneak down to enclose around the apparatus’s knob once more, turning the speed further up.

Feeling like you might fall off the table entirely, you panted, “doctor, I think something might be wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, love,” he nearly chuckled, “this is how it’s supposed to feel,” smiling as you let go an uncontainable moan, knees nearly closing as you tumbled over the edge, “there it is, good, good…”

Expecting for the machine to be shut off, the doctor instead pushed your trembling knees aside and conjured a bulky ward-like device that buzzed in his tight grip, the other hand firm on your leg as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive pearl, “ah! Doctor! What are you-”

“We’re not done yet,” he stated firmly, vision fixated on the mess he was turning you into.

The squelching of your pussy cut through the loud buzzing of the gizmos, “but it’s too much, I can’t-”

“You wanna get better, don’t you?”

Fists tight in your dress, crumbled at your waist, you let out a shaky, “yes.”

“Then quit your whining and let me treat you,” his stare snapped up as he warned you, “if you keep that up then I’ll have no other choice but to restrain you, is that what you want?”

“N-no,” the overwhelming sensation caused you to tremble like a leaf.

“Be a good girl and take it.”

When the second wave hit, it crashed into you so fiercely that you let out a lewd scream.

“There you go, that’s it!” the doctor bellowed as your pussy gushed, crying out around the intense toys, “oh, fuck…” unable to peel his eyes away as he finally turned off the machines, additional juices squirting out as they withdrew.

Limbs twitching, you hazily asked, “was that it? Are we done?”

Palming himself through his pants, his gaze stayed glued to your weeping core, “not quite yet, miss… that release of excess fluids was a very good sign, very good sign indeed, but we’re not quite done… there’s still more that needs to get out in order for your uterus to align itself again,” your eyes then flicked down to his fingers as they worked at the buttons on his slacks, swiftly freeing something much bigger than the apparatus he had just fucked you with.

“Doctor?” your eyes grew as he stepped closer, rubbing his tip against you in a way that made your eyes flutter.

Finally meeting your gaze, he uttered, “please, call me Aleksander,” before thrusting his hips forward, stretching you apart with his cock. Fingers digging into your thighs, he glanced back down and smirked, “I think your womb just needs a little reminder of where its home is,” before he slammed in, all the way, pushing the air out of your lungs as his balls nuzzled against you.

“Ah!”

“Just need to knock at its door a bit to call it home,” the tip of his generous length kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, borderline going too deep as you clambered around him, “that’s it, taking the treatment so well.”

Just as you had thought he had settled on a rhythm, he pulled the rug out from under you by suddenly withdrawing his girth entirely, spreading you apart so that he could watch how he made you gape, only to bury himself completely once again, repeating the cycle over and over, relishing in the way it drove you up the wall.

“Fucking hell… I can feel it, you’re getting close, clamping around me like a desperate little whore,” he groaned, watching as after a few more breath-taking rounds, your pussy began to weep once again, “oh, there it is,” squirting out every time he retraced himself, “atta girl,” the fullness he then granted you only persuaded more to appear.

When you were nothing more than a literal puddle in his grasp, Aleksander truly lost control, pounding into your trembling mess before he made it even more so, stuffing you full of his hot cum.

Low groans still flowed from his lips as he retracted from you for good, the sensation of his seed trickling out of you and onto the exam table nearly going unnoticed from how exhausted the treatment had made you.

“Was that it?” you asked weakly, “am I cured now?”

Tugging himself away as he caught his breath, he answered, “not completely,” glancing back up at you with a glint in his dark eyes, “I think you’re gonna have to come back a few more times …”

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a-reverii · 4 months

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▸ REVERII'S DECEMBER FIC RECS

━━ ✰ THE WIZARDING WORLD.

sirius black

aren't promises meant to be broken? ⇢ @perpetuallydaydreaming

style. ⇢ @bealovesmarauders

his favorite neighbour. ⇢ @kquil

attention. ⇢ @/kquil

right where i want to be. ⇢ @appocalipse

the dark night. ⇢ @bruisedboys

oblivious. ⇢ @bitesizedgremlin

regulus black

hidden messages in foreign languages. ⇢ @applebutter-and-cinnamon

vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche. ⇢ @/deactivated

his last letter. ⇢ @hamlets-ak

tricks and charms. ⇢ @curseofaphrodite

across the sea. ⇢ @/curseofaphrodite

the night we met. ⇢ @/curseofaphrodite

frosted practices. ⇢ @henqtic

remus lupin

by tired hands. ⇢ @luveline

skirts. @flwrbo

not so secret admirer. @/kquil

you're losing me. @astonishment

never his. @weasleykisses

wherever you stray i follow. @mediocre-daydreams

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

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angelaestheticbaby · 7 months

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The bunny and the wolf

Summary: Aleksander hates everyone except you. You could stay forever.

Warnings: I guess none, just fluff

A/N: it was inspired by this pic

Aleksander was always like a big, bad wolf. Snurling and growling at people who wanted to get close. He pushed everyone away and never let anyone near.

But when he attemped to scare away you, you just beamed at him like a literal sunshine and he immediatly fell in love.

You were like the innocent little Bunny and he was the big, bad wolf. You softened his heart and since then he was soft and gentle with you, hars and cold with everyone else. You were his Bunny and the sight of you made him melt.

Aleksander had been quite cold and stoic when you first met him. He always kept everyone at an arm's length distance, never really letting anyone close.

But it was you who finally broke that cold armour he had around himself. He soon became like a big, protective bear towards you. You were the light that brought out his softer side and made him melt.

No one else had ever seen him that way, they all feared him and his stern demeanour. But to you, he was like a gentle lamb, willing to do anything for you.

"Hi baby" you stepped into his office and hugged him from behind. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. He set his pen down on the desk and put his glass aside. He turned in your hold and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer.

"Hello, my Bunny" Aleks whispered.

"How's it going? You seemed stressed this moring when you left our bed" you nuzzled closer and he literally saw you as a little Bunny feeling comfortable.

"I'm better now" he said with a smile as he leanes down and whispers into your ear, "My Bunny is here with me."

He nuzzled your ear with his lips and ran his hands through your hair. "You have no idea how much I missed you today."

"I missed you too lovely"

Lovely. You called him lovely, when he was anything but lovely. His heart skipped a beat. He was so used to being feared and respected, he had never been called something so sweet yet intimate before, but it just felt right.

"I have some good news for you, Bunny" he whispers softly.

"Yeaahh? Tell me" you whispered sweetly. He didn't understand how someone so precious like you could be with someone cursed and bad like him. But you were there and he didn't plan on letting you go.

"I want to hold you in my arms forever" he says softly as he ran his fingers through your hair. He pulled you close, bringing his lips to your ear. "I want to spend my life with you, my Bunny. I will be yours, my love" he said in a passionate whisper.

He stared deeply into your eyes as he held your face in his hands, "I would die for you."

"I love you Aleks" you beamed at him. Your softness made an effect on him like nothing else. You didn't guite catch on that he was proposing to you, but he was willing to try again.

He smiled warmly as he held you close. "I love you too, my Bunny."

He looked you deeply in the eyes as he cupped your face in his hands. He stared at you for a long moment before he whispered softly, "I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"

Aleks was the type of person everyone feared, but with you he was soft and gentle. You have tamed the big, bad wolf.

You froze a bit then your knees buckled a little and started crying in joy.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes" you hugged him closer and started kissing his face everywhere you could reach.

He kissed you passionately as he held you tightly in his arms. He was never the type of person to show much emotion, but with you, he was like a completely different person.

"I love you so much. You're the person I want to spend my life with. I knew you were the one right from the first moment we met"

He nuzzles at your neck with his lips again, "I can't wait to be with you forever"

#aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling fanfic #ben barnes #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes x reader #the darkling fluff

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hottpinkpenguin · 4 months

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Could I request the Darkling x virgin reader where they go to bed together, but before they sleep together reader changes her mind as she's not ready. She's unsure how he will react, but darkling is super soft and reassuring and tells her they will only sleep together when she's ready/there's no rush or pressure etc...

A/n: I made you wait far too long for this anon!! this was a great prompt and i loved writing it. no one makes me melt more than Soft Darkling! hope you love it <33

Eager

Darkling X VirginFem!Reader Word Count: 2524 Warnings: fluff/spice (no smut), misogyny vibes (but not from Darkling!)

You felt utterly ridiculous standing in the middle of your expansive bedchamber, the lacy negligee Genya had picked out for you doing little to keep you warm. You had the bottom hem bunched in your shaking hands as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Deep breaths,” Genya cooed gently as she brushed your hair down your back. You tried to follow her instructions, timing your inhales and exhales with hers. No amount of self-control could quite stifle the terrified stuttering of your heart in your chest. She knitted her brows at your reflection in the mirror.

“It’s normal to be nervous,” she observed softly. “But you shouldn’t be… terrified.”

The corners of your mouth twitched as you fought the urge to cry. You were grateful for the dim light of the scattered candles in your room. It kept your sour expression cast in shadow.

“I’m not terrified,” you argued weakly. “I’m just…” Your voice trailed off impotently as you tried to find the right word. Apprehensive? Embarrassed? Exhausted?

“Stressed.” You settled on a word that captured such a small fraction of the emotions swirling in your chest as to be almost negligible. You were terrified, although not in the way Genya assumed. You were anything but unsure of what you were about to do. In fact, you were utterly consumed with desire for Aleksander. The warm knot that boiled low and deep in your stomach confirmed that. Your heart skipped a beat as your pent-up mind thrust imagined scenes into your consciousness: your lips on the curve of his neck… the muscles on his back flexing as he climbs on top of you… his fingers digging into the flesh around your hips…

No, it wasn’t sex that you were terrified of. And it wasn’t Aleksander either.

The source of your terror wasn’t anywhere outside of you. It was within you. You forced yourself to hold your own gaze in the mirror, staring down the demons in your own eyes. You need to confront this, you chided yourself. No more running.

You were terrified of giving up this part of yourself to someone else. It wasn’t about Aleksander, and it wasn’t about the actions involved in giving it up. The thing that held your heart in an ice-cold vice was the fear of repercussions. You’d been raised in the Ravkan High Court your whole life, and as the only Lantsov daughter, your worth still hinged on antiquated rules tied to your purity. Your brothers Nikolai and Vasily had never known that kind of pressure, had never been forced to preserve their innocence for the bitter reward of bartering an advantageous marriage.

You had Aleksander to thank for showing you your worth. He was the one who’d shown you what it meant to be truly valued, truly loved. He was the one who’d intervened on your behalf when you’d been standing at the altar, moments away from an ill-fated marriage to an abusive drunk. All your family had seen was the virginal princess wrapped in white - Ravka’s most valuable gift - and the massive coffers of your almost-husband’s family. Aleksander had seen a woman inches away from marrying what would ultimately be the death of her. He’d been the one to give you a choice. You loved him, completely and utterly, and he would be the one you’d choose to give yourself to, body and soul.

But as much as you hated to admit it - as much as it stung to confront just how deeply rooted the twisted morals of your upbringing had become within your own mind - you hadn’t come to peace yet. You were flexing your newfound freedom a little more every day. With Aleksander by your side. But you needed more time.

A gentle knock on the carved wooden doors that separated your bedchamber from the hall outside knocked you from your reverie. Genya stood hastily, smoothing her palm over the smooth waves of your hair one last time. She gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You caught her hand under your own, nodding calmly as you smiled at her. You wondered if she could see the gratitude in your eyes. Aleksander was the first to show you true love, and Genya was the first to show you true friendship. You hoped that one day you’d be able to put into words just how much she’d saved you.

She hesitated only briefly to smile back before she made her exit, disappearing through the doorway into the hall. You heard her exchange soft words with Aleksander before she closed the door behind her.

You chuckled when you heard Aleksander knock again gently, asking if he could come in. Ever the gentleman, you thought as you replied affirmatively. The door opened a crack, deep shadows darkening the doorway. Aleksander seemed to materialize out of the very darkness itself. It was a strange manifestation of his powers, and one that you weren’t sure if he was fully aware of. You’d never mentioned it to him, preferring instead to let yourself be caught breathless by his presence each time.

As always, you felt your breath tangle in your throat for an instant. The sight of him seemed to wipe your mind clean of all the worries and the conflicted emotions, leaving behind nothing more than that burning knot in your stomach. His dark eyes took in the scene before him, lingering on the vast expanses of your skin that he’d never seen before. For the first time since you’d slipped into the sheer, purple-tinted gown, you felt warm. You ignored the urge to demur and turn away under the heat of Aleksander’s hungry gaze. Instead, you rose from your seat in front of the dressing mirror and walked towards him. A gentle breeze from the open window next to your bed made the candlelight flicker, the hazy glow dancing in his eyes as he tracked your every movement. That delicious, warm knot low in your belly tightened at the closeness of him, the air between the two of you practically crackling with energy.

“You look-”

You silenced what you were sure would have been a devastatingly appreciative compliment by pressing a finger to his full lips. He fell silent obediently, his eyes simmering like coals. It was rare for him to see you so confident. Usually he was the one guiding the interaction, but you felt incredibly powerful as he fell under your spell. His usually tense and vaguely troubled energy completely erased in favor of awe as he drank you in without an ounce of embarrassment.

You replaced your finger with your lips, pressing yourself against his tall, strong frame. His hands raked up the side of your thighs, bunching the fabric of your gown up on your waist to expose the skin of your hips. His hands kept traveling upward, following your ribs from your sides up into the planes of your shoulders and your upper back. You let yourself melt into the kiss, moaning softly as he drank in every drop of what you were giving him with a hungry, seemingly bottomless need.

His hands finally found their way up into your hair, tangling his fingers gently but firmly against your scalp as he pulled you back from his mouth. You looked up at him through slitted eyes, feeling drunk and whining at the loss of his mouth. He smirked, relishing in the effect his touch was having on you.

“Eager are we, pretty girl?”

Your stomach somersaulted at the pet name, your head spinning wildly as he bore back down on your mouth. His tongue pressed through your open lips, tasting you as if he’d never be sated. You could feel the seams between your thoughts starting to loosen, your mind falling under the intoxicating spell of lust. His hands released your hair and slid down your spine and over the swell of your backside. He hooked his hands under your ass, and you leapt up into his arms, twining your legs around his waist. He caught you easily, the muscles in his arms and back flexing with ease as he guided you backwards towards the luxurious bed. You felt the softness of the sheets envelop you as he laid you down, his weight settling on top of you not an instant later. It was all warmth and friction between you two, each of your hands roaming freely over the other’s body as you kept driving the kiss deeper.

It wasn’t until you felt one of his hands slip over your naked hip and settle between your thighs that a familiar prick of uncertainty flared to life in the back of your mind. It was quiet but insistent, and like a lighthouse cutting through a thick fog, it brought your awareness crashing back into the moment with disappointing clarity.

Aleksander sensed your hesitation and broke the kiss, his eyes suddenly full of worry as he met your gaze.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, his voice husky around the edges. The sound of it nearly wiped away the trace indecision that flitted around your thoughts like a gnat. But, as gorgeous as he looked hovering over you with a concerned expression, his breath more ragged than usual, you knew in your heart what your decision was.

“I… I want you… desperately want you. But… maybe not… maybe not tonight.” As the words came out in a halting mumble, you suddenly felt incredibly sheepish. A nagging voice in your head made the sharp observation that you’ve let him go this far, the least you can do is give the man what he needs and finish the job.

You found you were unable to meet his eyes, afraid of what you’d see in his gaze. You weren’t sure you could bear to disappoint Aleksander of all people. Much like a few minutes ago, you felt the edges of your mouth turn down and tremble, tears threatening your eyes. That hot, lusty urge that had almost consumed you moments before crumpled like tissue paper in your blood, and your cheeks burned with shame.

“My beautiful girl,” he murmured, rolling sideways onto the bed and gently guiding your chin upward with his thumb. “Never discount your needs with me.” His voice was serious, each word heavy with emphasis.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, drinking in the flickers of emotion in his mahogany-black eyes.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled in reply.

“Do not say ‘maybe not tonight’ when what you mean is ‘not tonight’,” he clarified. His words felt like a riddle you were struggling to grasp. Sensing your confusion, he went on. “You deserve better than that. This-” he gestured to your two bodies, still somewhat intertwined on the bed- “will only give us what we want if we are clear on what we need.”

You’d never laid with a man, had never come this far into intimacy with Aleksander, but you recognized the truth in his words on an instinctual level. The bluntness with which he addressed you was strange and refreshing, and it emboldened you. You nodded in agreement, holding his gaze to show him you understood. He smiled after a moment, satisfied with your reaction.

“My affection for you is not contingent on your body,” he added, anticipating the direction of your worries before your thoughts had a chance to get there. “I love you for all that you are, independent of what you share with me on any given night.” Your head spun, struggling under the weight of what you were sure was one of the most pure and powerful expressions of love that anyone had put to words. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as a crushing wave of appreciation for the man in front of you swallowed your thoughts.

Aleksander watched your emotions flash in your eyes, the tears causing him to frown slightly in confusion. He brushed a thumb at the corner of your lash line, wiping away the moisture there. His touch still sent shivers rippling over your skin, and you smiled at him. Emboldened by his devotion, you took a deep breath in and began to speak.

“I don’t know how to give away this part of myself, Aleks. After having my virginity prized and sought after and protected for so long, I’m struggling to think of this-” you copied his gesture, referencing the space between you two where your legs tangled in his and your skin pressed on his torso “-as anything beyond duty. It’s getting better,” you added quickly, noticing the twinge of hurt in his eyes. “It is. Because of you. And I do love you. And I want this. I want to be yours, to give myself to you, including my body.” You had to swat away the urge to kiss him as you noticed the involuntary flicker of desire in his gaze at your words. “And I will. But not until I can think of sex as more than just… a gift.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you could catch them. When you were done, you bit your lip, unsure if anything you’d confessed had made sense. You waited, studying Aleksander’s face. As usual, he was drinking you in, his intuition grasping at every minute detail in your tone, inflection, and expression. When you’d first met him, you’d been unnerved by how observant he was, how quickly he deduced your feelings and thoughts. At times, his studious attention was irritating as it meant you couldn’t keep anything from him. But now, when you felt yourself drowning in a million emotions you weren’t sure had names, you were grateful for his ability to read you.

After a few long moments under his penetrating gaze, he smiled, softly chuckling.

“What’s funny?” you asked, more curious than offended. He reached down and found your hand, resting on your stomach. He interlaced his fingers with yours and brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm, reassuring kiss there. When he raised his dark eyes back to yours, you saw nothing but adoration sparkling back at you.

“You are, quite simply, the most incredible being I have ever known,” he said simply, as if he were reading a recipe list to you. “I would wait until the night swallows the sun for you. Whenever you’re ready, my love. You know where to find me.” His last words were mumbled slightly as he rolled over, twisting towards the edge of the bed. As elated as you were by his unequivocal acceptance of your boundary, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit rejected to see him turn to leave.

“And where’s that, Aleks?” you asked. He half-turned back to you, one eyebrow raised in question. “Where will I find you?” you clarified. He smirked, picking up the candle on your bedside table and blowing it out with a confident exhale.

“Right here,” he replied, settling in under the covers next to you, his arms wrapping around your barely clothed body and pulling you against him. You smiled in the darkness at the realization that he wasn’t going anywhere, and neither were you…

#shadow and bone requests #aleksander kirigan #general kirigan x oc #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x oc #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova #darkling imagine #darkling fanfiction #darkling shadow and bone #the darkling #darkling #ben barnes imagine

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padfootagain · 6 months

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Hold My Hand Instead of His

Hello everyone!! We're answering a request for my event today!

Here is the first request coming from two anons, actually, who have requested the same tropes: “Hiya! Can I request The Darkling Soulmate AU with an arranged marriage trope? But the reader is meant to get married to someone else? Can have a little bit of jealousy if you wish. Either that or enemies to lovers you choose” and “Hi carooole!!! Congrats for 6k!! I'm so happy when I see you on my TL again i've been following you since 2020 aaaa

I would like to request The Darkling, Soulmates AU and Arranged Marriage please !🫶

I hope you're having a good day and congratulations again <3”

I love this idea of an arranged marriage with someone else ifoeofueuojeji that’s amazing. I hope you like what I’ve written for your request, anon! <3

Hope you all like this. Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff; I’m distorting canon rules of Grisha magic to apply to a Soulmate AU I hope you like it

Summary: You are engaged to the Prince of Ravka, through an arranged marriage, in order to pacify relations between Grisha and otkazat’sya. The issue: Nikolai Lantsov is not your soulmate, and you are torn between duty and love.

Word Count: 3554

The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

What could happen if the world were to be devoured by shadows?

Sometimes, as you laid down at night, staring at the shining stars and moon, you asked yourself this question. Would it be the end? The beginning? The continuation? Would anything change?

You felt a little too lost in your life these days to be afraid of the shadows, of the blindness they carried. If you were so lost, weren’t you alone already?

Besides, these were his shadows. If anyone else could fear the dark because it was his, you felt the opposite.

Your gaze turned from the window to the door on the opposite wall. Why were you chosen to marry the prince anyway? Granted, you were a powerful Grisha, but there were others who could have done it, why did it have to be you?

You knew that Nikolai Lantsov was not your soulmate. There was no wonder about it. As a Grisha, your soulmate would be easy to detect: a simple touch and your powers would be amplified. A surge of power matching the rush of a heart. You had touched the prince before, had felt nothing. It wasn’t him…

Actually, you knew who was your soulmate. You had touched him once, without meaning to. While he was asleep, after a long day spent on a battlefield. You can see it all over again: the dry blood still tainting his forehead, the quiet of his breathing, the calmness on his features. He seemed so innocent then, so different from the man who had used his shadows against the world mere hours before. You remember as well the water you had been carrying to his tent, the reason for your presence in the first place. Because of course, you were a powerful Grisha, but he was The Darkling, a general, a leader, unreachable. You remember, though, the light shiver that shook his frame, the blanket that had fallen from his chest during his sleep. To this day, you didn’t know what had come over you that night, putting down your bucket of cold water, gently holding the blanket to cover his long frame once more. And it was an accident, really, a mere miscalculation of trajectory, when you brushed your fingers against his. And you remember the surge of power shaking your entire frame, making it hard to breathe, igniting every cell in your body. The sudden knowledge of your powers beating in your muscles at the same rhythm as your heartbeat. It was so strong, you could barely control your powers enough to not burn him, feeling flames surging to your hands. You were certain that the warmth escaping through every inch of your skin was warming the entire room. It felt like you could have burned the entire world…

It had taken you a long time to finally accept the truth that was revealed that night: the Darkling was your soulmate. Amplifying abilities could only happen between people bound by true love and fate alike, and that cold night spent on the verge of Fjerda, you had revealed an unbelieving truth. The Darkling was your soulmate. Your one true love.

Even now, you contemplated this fact with a tinge of bitterness. He was the Darkling, and you… it would be absolutely impossible for the two of you to be together. Now more than ever. You had been chosen to marry the prince of Ravka, it would strengthen the Grisha, protect them… you had worked hard to protect your people, you couldn’t abandon them simply because you were being a silly romantic. This wasn’t about love. This was about duty and the need of your people. Besides, it could have been worse. Nikolai wasn’t a bad man, marrying his brother would have been much closer to martyrdom.

These were the words you repeated yourself over and over again, every night since the announcement. And they were sensible and logical, but they did not prevent the aching in your chest, the tears at the corners of your eyes, or the urge to run across the Little Palace to the Darkling’s War Room to tell him the truth and beg him to take you away…

You closed your eyes, the world even darker than before. Against your eyelids, you painted his tall frame wrapped in his shadows, the dark of his infinite eyes, the sot beard on his cheeks. It was useless though, and terribly childish.

After all, how could the Darkling do anything against your union with Nikolai Lantsov? He didn’t even know you were his soulmate…

You didn’t know that he was your soulmate, and it was slowly killing him.

The Darkling looked at you now, dressed in the finest silk the kingdom of Ravka could offer. Your hand resting on Nikolai Lantsov’s arm, gloved in white fabric. He was showing you off, the bastard. He was playing his part in this political plot a little too well, took too much pleasure in parading with you by his side. And you were so unlike your true self. Too pliant, too obedient, smiling too politely. But Aleksander knew who you could be, this other side of you. The one covered with blood, the one burning like the flames ignited by your fingers and palms.

The Darkling was being ridiculous, and he knew it. He had worked too hard to reach this position, over the long hours of centuries, he had crafted his myth, his image, his power, his influence. And Nikolai Lantsov marrying a Grisha was a central part of his plot, it was vital, actually. It was a new step towards the throne…

But you… why did it have to be you?

He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. He had abandoned the idea of an everlasting love such a long time ago. Centuries ago. He had built an armour around his heart, he had grown as ruthless as his shadows, he had grown too determined to be drawn off-course by sentiments.

And yet, as he looked at you now, at the way you leaned against another man, he wanted to destroy the entirety of Ravka and the world beyond too, if need be. He wanted to tear the fabrics of the universe apart, and scream against the night sky.

The Darkling was selfish, and he knew it. And yet, his selfishness was always directed towards the same goal he had been pursuing for centuries, for lifetimes… he could not simply yield now. Of course he wanted you, you were connected by a power stronger than the Small Science he used as weapons and shields. Still… still he couldn’t simply yield, it would ruin everything.

Aleksander remembers, though. He remembers that afternoon, the clouds of smoke rising from the broken earth, the screams, the irony taste of blood in the air. He remembers looking for you, though he didn’t know why his instinct made him look for your frame across the battlefield. And yet, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to find you. He remembers the beating of his heart and his shallow breathing, the pain of his own wounds making his head spin. He remembers catching the colour of your hair there, lying in the dirt, his gaze moving to your closed eyelids… He remembers the sudden fear that shook him, even though he didn’t know why he felt that way. Because you were, of course, a powerful Inferni, he suspected that you were unusually gifted, and yet… you were just a soldier. Why was he so upset? He had seen thousands of people dying, thousands of his soldiers falling… why was it so different now? He remembers the way he had stumbled as he rushed to your side, falling by your side more than kneeling. Your still frame, your peaceful expression, you looked like you were merely asleep. He remembers too well the slow movement of his own fingers towards your throat, pressing against your pulse to feel your heart, and the surge of power that coursed through his frame, ignited his blood, sparkling every cell of his body. Such an overcoming beating of power in his heart, he didn’t control the shadows that sprang from his frame, that gathered from all around the two of you to cover both of your frames. He didn’t control it. He knew at once what it meant though. And his shadows pulsed, at the same rhythm as his own heart and, as he noticed your pulse, as your heart as well.

Two hearts. One heartbeat. Soulmates…

Aleksander looked away, focusing his dark eyes on the drink in his hands instead of your frame. This surge of power he had felt, unbearable, uncontrollable, too wild to be tamed… he knew what it meant, of course. When he was young, and naïve, and stupid, he had spent long decades looking for it. The reason of his failure then was obvious now. You did not exist yet, you were born centuries apart… how cruel the world could be, making him wait for so long, only to snatch you away…

The Darkling was being ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. For longing for you so much it hurt, for seriously considering walking over to you and lie about a need to see you alone, and kiss you in the safety of his shadows, with your back pressed against a wall and your skin under his palms…

But was he so ridiculous? He couldn’t help it, after all. If fate itself had weaved your two lives, your two souls together, how could he simply ignore it?

He could have laughed at himself for being naïve all over again, a boy who longed for a fairer world. Fairness didn’t exist, it wasn’t in human nature. Marriages had little to do with love at all when they involved the royal family. It was about politics, not sentiments.

But then, why did Aleksander felt your numb body in his arms all over again, the weight of your unconsciousness resting on his forearms as he carried you to safety that afternoon, the shallow warmth of your breath against his neck, as you turned to him and looked at him from across the crowd, catching his gaze with ease?

But then, why did he want nothing but to leave everything behind now, everything he had worked so hard on and had lost so much of his own self to reach, at the mere hope of running away with you?

But you didn’t know he was your soulmate. You were unconscious then, when he had touched your skin, you couldn’t feel the amplification held in his bones for you.

He turned around, his back to you now to relieve the temptation to stare at you for too long. The Darkling was patient, but Aleksander was selfish. Would he hold on, or tell you the truth?

The answer came with the breeze of spring and a kiss stolen by the lake.

It came from you, actually. From the feeling of warm lips against yours, and hands on your cheeks, and the sudden knowledge of a truth you had been pushing away out of duty.

You couldn’t do this.

You pulled away quickly, leaving a rather stunned Nikolai Lantsov behind. You didn’t look at him as you spun on your heels, as you ran away across the grass and towards the Little Palace. You didn’t look back as you spotted the Darkling there, under the trees, speaking with Ivan. You were crying, you realised it only because it made their frame a little blur. Still, you aimed straight for the Darkling, who frowned at the sight of you. He dismissed Ivan with a mere gesture of the hand, and walked towards you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

You wanted to rush into his arms, but didn’t dare to. Because he didn’t know you were his soulmate, and would notice if you touched his skin…

You were surprised when he held your upper-arm to steady you, though. But he was touching the fabric of your dress, you couldn’t feel the bond between the two of you…

“Y/N, what happened?”

You took a couple of deep breaths. You were being utterly ridiculous. You had fought battles, had killed people, had buried friends… this was a mere kiss, why did it upset you so much?

When you looked up at the Darkling, his expression was unreadable, a perfectly calm demeanour. There was but the ghost of a frown to show that he cared.

Did he care though? He didn’t know…

You couldn’t hold it back any longer. You had to tell him. Because he would probably push you away anyway, remind you of your duty towards Ravka, towards your fellow Grisha, and break your heart for good. And then, perhaps you could accept your arranged marriage with the prince…

“I can’t do it,” you let out in a breath, shaking your head. “I am sorry, but I cannot do it. I can’t marry Lantsov.”

The Darkling’s frown deepened, he leaned a little closer, his eyes searching yours, digging their way into your mind and heart until he could peer right into your soul.

“Did he hurt you? What happened?”

“He didn’t hurt me, he…”

You took a shaky breath, closed your eyes tightly for a moment, trying to release the words and hold back a sob.

“He kissed me.”

When you opened your eyes again, fell back into the gaze as dark as the shadows they summoned, you couldn’t read through them. Aleksander had clenched his jaw, but he was still as unreadable as ever.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do it… I can’t marry him…”

“Y/N, calm down. This is important.”

“I have a soulmate.”

His lips parted slightly, but he remained silent, frozen in expectation. His hold on your arm tightened, it was the only movement he made until you spoke again.

You wondered where your strength came from as you finally confessed the truth, you didn’t think you had it in you. Even if your voice was but a weak whisper, the words were let out, audible and clear, lifting a heavy weight from your shoulders and heart.

“It’s you. You’re my soulmate.”

You shook your head, eyes begging for forgiveness, even if none of this was your fault in the first place.

“I’m sorry. I… one day I touched you without meaning to while you slept, just… just your finger and… I felt it. The amplifying. And I… I didn’t tell you, because I know that you are focused on your task concerning Ravka, that this is not your priority, that you probably don’t even care but… You’re my soulmate. And I can’t marry another man, I simply can’t. I’ll fight as hard as I can, I’ll risk my life, I’ll kill and do whatever needs to be done, but as a soldier. Please… please, help me. Help me not marry him. I cannot marry someone else when I love you so deeply. I am not asking for anything else, I simply…”

Your voice died down as his hold on your kefta tightened, becoming almost painful, the hold unforgiving.

His stare was even more intense now, if that was even possible. You read hesitation in them, something you had never seen before on him…

His eyes fell from your gaze to your mouth, intense and holding you hostage, making your heart jump and crash against your ribcage. When his eyes flickered back to rest on yours, he was out of breath as he spoke.

“I know.”

You could only stare at him, stunned. You could feel your heart shattering…

“Do you remember when you were wounded in the South? About a year ago?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“I am the one who found you, unconscious, lying among the dead. I checked your pulse.”

“Oh…”

The ghost of an amused smile tugged at his lips.

“’Oh’, indeed.”

Slowly, you nodded. Because he knew, and yet he had done nothing to prevent this marriage.

“I thought you didn’t know,” he went on. “I thought it was better that way.”

“Because I must marry Nikolai to help the Grisha?”

But he was too earnest in his answer, his hand slowly rising to your cheek, but he didn’t touch you. Instead, he let his hand hover over your face, close enough to feel the heat of your skin, but still away, unbearably so.

“Because I do not want to have weaknesses. And loving you would turn you into a weakness.”

Again, you nodded, although you were more lost than ever.

“I can’t marry Nikolai,” you breathed again, the tears coming back into your eyes.

“If you do not, Ravka will be endangered, and Grisha more than anyone else.”

You looked down at your feet, the weight of duty too heavy on your shoulders now, despite the strength in them, the endurance of a soldier.

Aleksander could not bear the sight. Beyond duty, your frame was crushed by another burden he knew only too well, after carrying it for so many centuries.

Loneliness…

If he caved in, you would never have to be alone again, and neither would he…

Slowly, he closed the space between your two skins, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, guiding gently your face upward to look at him again. And the power that coursed through your bodies now was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help the flames that sparked in the air all around you, and he couldn’t master the shadows that twirled around your frames. Fire and darkness mingled in a whirlwind that covered the world, made you escape from it. It was a strange dance on your features, the burning lights of flames dancing with his shadows in your eyes…

The decision was easy to make.

He leaned down before you could move, or speak, or master your powers again. Only when his lips moved over yours, when you lost yourself in his touch, when he melted under your palms and pressed himself against you, did your powers calm down. You felt the warmth of the sun against your face instead of the heat of flames, the constant light of the distant star painting your eyelids red instead of the unsteady black of his twirling shadows. And there was no thought left to be thought, no breath to be drawn, no duty to cave under. Instead, there was the passion of Aleksander’s kiss, the gentle tug of your fingers on his hair, the tingle of his beard against your soft skin. There was nothing in the world but the two of you, feelings overwhelming, and at the back of your mind, still, the knowledge of immense power waiting to be freed.

When you broke apart, both of you out of breath, Aleksander pulled away just enough to look at you again, to capture your gaze with his, making your heart stutter all over again.

“Do not marry him.”

You stopped breathing altogether as the words passed his lips. He slowly shook his head. His hold on your face tightened a little, he moved a little closer, and his voice was dangerously tempting, almost begging, when he spoke again.

“I can take care of this,” he assured you, his tone sounding like a promise. “I can make him back down. We are soulmates, this is our right…”

“But what about Grisha…”

“Lantsov can marry someone else. He chose you because he had a crush on you, he will get over it and choose someone else.”

“Do you really mean that?”

He smiled.

“We are soulmates. Do you not know the answer already?”

And as you stared at him for a little longer, you did. You knew he meant it. You could see it in his dark eyes, in the tension of his jaw, feel it in the way he held you a little too tight, a little too close, a tinge of desperation searing cracks through his perfect composure.

One of his hands let go of you, and he offered it, palm up and open, an offering of weakness and vulnerability.

“Choose me,” he demanded in a breathy whisper. “I’ll manage Lantsov, I’ll get you out of this marriage. We could be together. We can fight. Choose me. Hold my hand instead of his. Share your heart with me, not with him. Y/N…”

He fell silent as you took his hand, as you pulled him down to kiss him again, passionate and breathtaking.

He smiled into the kiss, he couldn’t help it. Because of your lips against his, because of the love you shared, because of the relief coursing through his entire frame after finally surrendering to the feelings he had held back for months, because of the shushing of its constant loneliness under your palms, because of the power you released into his body by a simple caress…

Aleksander was selfish, after all, and he would have you, if you chose him. He would do without this alliance with the Lantsov family. He didn’t need it. Instead of political leverage, you were now offering a power of his own.

He broke the kiss, held you close to him, rested his lips against your hair. Yes, he would have you. And if need be, he’d take the light out of this entire world, while you burned it to the ground.

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #the darkling imagine #the darkling fanfiction #the darkling fanfic #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan #aleksander x reader #aleksander x y/n #aleksander x you #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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mistiell · 1 year

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Strange Love Pt.6

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem! Healer! Reader

Summary: You and Aleksander devise a plan to get you out of the palace and begin a journey to Duva with Fedyor and Ivan.

Warnings: None

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to write! A lot has been going on so I haven't had a lot of motivation to write anything lately.

Word Count: 2k

Part 5 < current > Part 7 (coming soon)

The harsh cold of the winter air bites at your face and freezes your lungs as you sprint through unfamiliar woods, a group of first army soldiers hot on your heels. No matter how fast you attempt to run, you can hear their footsteps grow steadily closer as you weave through the trees. In the back of your mind, there’s a part of you that wonders where exactly you are, how in the hell you wound up here, but your main priority is focusing on escaping.

A root catches the toe of your boot and you’re sent sprawling painfully onto the ground, the snow and ice stinging your palms and numbing your fingers. You attempt to scramble to your feet, but your body refuses to cooperate. By the time you’ve made it onto your knees, someone grabs your shoulder and wrenches you around onto your back.

You startle awake with a sound that’s something between a whimper and a shout just as a sword comes down on you. With a sigh, you push yourself up to sit against the headboard, palms pressing against your eyes until bright splotches dance against the darkness of your eyelids. It was just a nightmare, you know that, but it was so vivid that there’s some small, irrational part of you that wonders if perhaps it may have been something more.

You startle when you hear someone call your name but relax when you find Aleksander standing in the doorway. He’s discarded his kefta, leaving him in a fitted black shirt with matching trousers.

“Are you alright?” He asks slowly as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed in front of you.

You blink once and nod, “I’m okay.” When you look a little closer, you spot the dark circles under his eyes and frown, “Have you slept at all?”

He hesitates before replying, “I did.”

There’s the slightest spike in his heart rate before it quickly falls back to normal.

“Trying to fool me with half truths again?” There’s no bite to your tone and you chuckle when his cheeks flush a subtle shade of pink.

“I dozed.” He laughs softly, “Better?”

“Better.” You smile, though it quickly falls into something more serious, “Have you figured out what we’re going to do?”

The humour shining in his eyes fizzles out and he looks away from you with a sigh, rubbing at his mouth and leaning forward to rest his elbow in the divot where his knee bends, “We have to get you out of the palace.”

“I have a friend in Duva that runs an inn?” You suggest. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sparing a room.”

Immediately, he’s shaking his head.

“They’ll be searching for you there. An inn will be one of the first places they’ll look.”

“She’s also a rather talented tailor if that helps.”

He pauses and looks over your shoulder, clearly thinking through some sort of plan. Reluctantly, he nods, “We’ll need to find a way to transport you there without raising any suspicion.”

“You’re supposed to be searching for me too, aren’t you?” Slowly, he nods again, “It would make sense for you to volunteer to search the very place you found me. If we depart before dawn, you could use your shadows to keep me hidden.”

He thinks for another moment before he narrows his eyes at you with a small smile, “You’re rather talented at scheming. Have you done this before?”

“What? Plotted an escape or been wanted by the crown?” He laughs and you find yourself glad when he doesn’t press you about that first bit. You glance at the clock and your eyes blow wide, “Don’t you have a meeting you should be preparing for?”

He hesitates before running a hand through his hair, “I do.”

“You should get ready. If you miss anything important, it might raise suspicion.” He nods but doesn’t move to leave. You reach for his hand, “Go. I’ll be alright here.”

He nods again, leaning forward to peck your forehead before standing up to get ready.

<—--------->

The next morning, you rise before the sun and follow Aleksander out towards the stables. You’d need a team if this plan was going to be believable, so Aleksander had called on Fedyor and Ivan for the Journey. They were the only two people he’d trust with this mission.

You’d both agreed that you’d leave while the rest of the Little Palace was sound asleep — Aleksander’s excuse to the king being he wanted to start his search as soon as possible — Which leaves you with two rather grumpy Corporalki. Fedyor is still trying to be friendly despite the edginess caused by sleep deprivation. His partner, on the other hand, makes no such effort.

When you finally reach the stable, you make quick work of tacking up the horses and soon enough, Aleksander is hoisting you up onto his horse’s back. He settles himself behind you and you watch him make a fist with one hand and cup his knuckles with the other.

“Ready?”

You nod, and he slowly parts them, shadows flowing in the space between his palms. It isn’t long until they engulf you, shielding you from the world. You can still see what’s directly in front of you, but anything to either side of you is hidden by darkness. This is only temporary. Once you’re far enough down one of the old hunting trails Aleksander insisted on taking, he’ll disband the shadows until you’re out in the open again.

You travel until nightfall, only stopping when Fedyor nods off and nearly falls off his horse. You set up camp near the base of a tall oak tree a little ways off the path and eat a dinner that consists of bread and herring. There’s very little conversation, the crackling of the fire filling the silence. There’s this deep, sickening sense of dread that sits heavy in your stomach, no matter how many times you try to shake it off. Everything is so uncertain. You have no idea what you’ll do once you reach the inn, once Aleksander finishes “searching” for you. Scenario after dreadful scenario swirls through your mind and your stomach starts to hurt with worry.

You retire to your bedroll the moment you’re finished eating.

<—--------->

It goes on like this for two more nights. Sleeping under the stars, eating as much as you can stomach before crawling under your blankets. By the time night rolls around on the fourth day, you’re sore and tired and longing for the comforts of home. Whether that means your house in Duva or the Little Palace, you aren’t sure anymore.

This time, you’ve stumbled across an abandoned barn in a field along the path you’re currently on. You’d diverged from the hunting trail a while back, and though you can’t place where you are now, you’re glad to have a roof over your head. You go through your now nightly routine, helping Fedyor with the fire while Aleksander divvies up the food and Ivan lays out the bedrolls. Again, you eat your dinner quietly, listening to the others talk and nodding along when necessary. You aren’t following the conversation, only really listening to hear Aleksander’s voice.

When you retire to bed, you find sleep doesn't come to you. You’re about a half day’s ride from Duva now and all the dread and anxiety has come to keep you awake. After nearly two hours of laying there with your eyes closed, you slide out from under your covers and tip toe over a sleeping Aleksander to put your boots on.

When you step outside the barn, the air bites at your cheeks and dries out your eyes but you pay it no mind. Venturing a little further, you find a long forgotten hay bale pressed up against the wall and brush off the thin covering of snow to sit down. The sky is a vast abyss dotted with stars above you, not a cloud in sight. You try to pick out the constellations you know but give up after only a few minutes, choosing to just admire instead. The darkness would have scared you a few months ago. Now it provides you with a small piece of the comfort Aleksander brings you.

Speaking of, you hear his heartbeat before you see him emerge from the barn, rapid until he sets his sights on you and breathes a small sigh of relief.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” He states, voice still a little gravelly from sleep as he comes closer.

“I needed air.” He sits down next to you, thigh pressing against yours as he manages to wrap his cloak around both of you, “Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be.” He stares at you for a long moment and again you get the sense that he’s staring into your soul, “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

He tuts once at you and looks up at the stars. When he speaks, he gently knocks your shoulder with his, “You know, if I’m not allowed to lie to you, it would only be fair for me to hold you to that same standard.”

You sigh heavily and for a split second he can see the exhaustion, the hopelessness. When you drop your temple to his shoulder, he wraps his arm around your waist to hold you closer, “I want to believe everything is going to work out, and I trust you to keep me safe, but what happens once you return to the Little Palace? Do I just sit in Duva doing nothing? What if they send someone else looking for me once you’ve left? What if I have to run? What if they do find me–?

He says your name once, softly, but it’s enough to stop your spiralling, “I promised to protect you, and I have every intention of keeping that promise.”

“But–.”

“But nothing. I’ll leave Fedyor in Duva with you. Should anything go awry once I’ve left, I’ll be notified.”

You nod once and let yourself sink a little further into his side. When you speak again, it’s little more than a whisper, “Thank you, Sasha.”

“Of course.” He mumbles and as he presses his lips to your hairline, you feel that familiar tingle as your power rustles somewhere deep inside your soul and rises up under your skin to meet him. He’s an amplifier, you know that, but you don’t mention it. Instead, you let the feeling take you, the exhaustion dulling slightly as your senses are swallowed by him. His heart, his breath. All of him.

You look back up at the sky and try picking out constellations again.

“I used to be able to name them all, you know.”

He’s about to ask what you’re talking about when he follows your gaze, understanding once he sees the stars blinking above the two of you.

“Well, not all. But quite a few of them.” You continue, gaze searching the vast dark sea above you. Now that you aren’t so preoccupied, you manage to find one, “There,” You point, “That’s the Scholar.”

He follows where you’re pointing and sure enough, he recognizes the formation of stars you’ve spotted. To the right of it, there’s another. He takes your wrist gently and moves it so that you’re pointing at it, “That one’s the Hunter.”

You smile for the first time in nearly a week and he realises just how much he missed it.

The two of you continue searching the sky for as many constellations as you can find, pointing them out to each other until there are none left to find. You don’t see it, but he spends more time looking at you than the sky, stars reflecting in your eyes like little flecks of snow.

When you finally grow tired enough and your fingertips have gone numb with the cold, you both make your way back inside. After saying goodnight, you slide into your bedroll and this time, sleep finally comes to you.

Strange Love Taglist:

@watersquirtpewpewboomm @sorrow-and-bliss @sande5098 @rachlovesactors @trinity-dose-stuff @maggie-da-rat @budugu @winteryoungie @tartiflvtte @emmamooney

#aleksander morozova x you #aleksander morozova x y/n #aleksander morozova fanfiction #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #the darkling x you #the darkling fluff #the darkling x y/n #the darkling fanfic #the darkling x reader #the darkling #sab #shadow and bone au

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shawty-writes-a-little · 1 year

Text

Amongst the two of us

General Kirigan x princess!reader (one shot)

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Period drama misogyny, arranged marriages, arguments, angst, I’ll proofread in the morning pls sorry

Summary: The general and his wife of differentiating moral grounds make their marriage work somehow

An: This one was sitting in my drafts unfinished for so long and it was an alternate ending for another Aleksander fic which I never ended up posting but I worked on this one bc s2 darkling arose a LOT in me so oh well

This one is spoiler free for S2 :)

—

There were two sets of council meetings ever since the General had married the lady y/l/n. For one her name weighed a lot of political power, being the noble lord’s daughter, the princess it was a prestige to have that power at little palace, someone of that huge a name by the general’s side. Well the General himself never cared for the affection of it all, he was too smart the man to see past any political benefit. Y/n, in the peak of her youth had dreams and hopes for her marriage which her soon crushed one after another with every bit of unfolding of her relationship with Aleksander, coming to realise she hadn’t married an affectionate man, not even caring but someone just so powerhungry and cold he doesn’t think twice to bend his morals. Is what y/n thought of him coming to know so more and more of him but remained not so phased after a while, a year into the marriage she would just look back thinking how foolish she it was to expect anything of the man she married.

Yet she thought it worked just fine, if she truly meant to marry for love she might’ve had a summer fling, elope with some stable boy and call it love to be living in some cottage far away…but no, she was destined for duties more than that. She had her own first army council at the little palace, the king’s army. But the king never bothered attend. The Lady Kirigan, the princess, was considered capable with the set of officers she had for most decisions.

Your husband doesn’t share a bed with you but at least you’re the head of first army council meetings. Your husband rarely shares any intimate moments with you but at least you get to see him from camp base to camp base. And of course the most infamous facade of being the pair that does share affection for each other in the glamour dinner parties amongst drunk lords and ladies who believe it just fine.

Honestly on the political front the first army felt more liberated and open with less of the general’s inputs given he wouldn’t join their meetings anymore ever since Lady y/n was placed there neither were the first army officials…mortals rather, allowed in any second army business. “Leave, the room.” Too much for uninterrupted business, the general barged into the meeting room where Lady y/n’s first army officials were having an ongoing discussion given the maps and the reports laid out on the table. “I have some important matters I need to discuss with my lady wife.” He announced as the matters seemed to be quite the work regarding, given he had a letter or document scroll in his hands and it was the general himself who visited.

With a short nod from y/n the officers left the room leaving the two alone, y/n did feel a tad affront on him just barging in through her ongoing meeting well aware he wouldn’t have entertained it if it was the other way around but she wished for whatever matter it was to get done with sooner so she chose not to speak on it “What is it?”

Aleksander placed the letter in his hand on the table for her to read, as she picked it up he spoke “Its a letter to Lord Eldon, a dear friend of your father’s who’s not so particularly fond of me, we need his aid for more men by the Ravaka front since the second army is occupied by the fold but he wouldn’t comply if the letter went from me” Aleksander let out a short scoff on the fact that some lord of a land that covers barely about 5 villages would be distasteful to him, the general, the shadow summoner. But in his opinion these noble lords were so petty about their allies and Aleksander knew he wasn’t that friendly “I need you to sign that letter.”

Y/n had her eyes fixated on the letter reading through till the end, the letter written in a first person way with wordings seeming as if she did write it herself “Did you write this?” She asked looking up from the letter.

“No.” Aleksander replied flatly, surely the general wouldn’t be as free as to go about writing framed letters himself.

“Well next time you feel like writing a letter on by behalf know that I wouldn’t be this straight forward to a dear friend of my father’s who has know me my entire life…” her voice trailed off with a suppressed chuckle that Aleksander didn’t even seem to check the phrasings of the letter once.

“Alright then you write it yourself” He spoke sliding a blank paper across the table to her “Make it as authentic as you’d like.”

“I could write it but I am not going to sign it.” Y/n spoke with sincerity but she was calm to lay it out. “I don’t condone it.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aleksander said raising a brow quite phased that she would choose a decision revolting his.

“If I sign the letter Lord Eldon will surely send his soldiers given he is to watch over a larger estate with his handful of army it would be unwise so no…”

“That is exactly why I want you to sign it. If the letter is from you he will send his men-did-did you not hear me correctly the first time?” He asked budding quite misinterpreting what she meant to say as whole.

“I heard you just right and I am saying no.” Y/n still had a calm yet firm tone of her voice despite his obvious annoyance “Lord Eldon isn’t a sovereign lord his army is the third half of the Royal army…for him to send his soldiers, the domesticity of the people of his land would be compromised. I am not going to sign the letter and bind him with a moral obligation.”

“The domesticity of the people?” He repeated her words with a taunting amusement “You are crossing unnecessary lengths to spite me…just sign it.” Aleksander sighed not considering her genuine people caring intentions behind it.

“Oh I surely do have other things than to be free enough to spite you, General.” Y/n said crossing her arms to a firm stance “Should Lord Eldon send his men for you the crime, the looting, the disruption will increase in his lands with less men on patrol, when he doesn’t even have enough as it is. I am sorry but I cannot sign it.”

“Don’t you understand? This is important. We need those men and it requires just a mere signature of yours!” He exclaimed, very agitated as he let out an exaggerated sigh rubbing his eyes to get over the unwanted annoyance.

“It’s as if I am talking to a wall…you aren’t even trying to understand.” Y/n spoke shaking her head, Aleksander truly believed that y/n’s barrier for the sign was not the honour and morals she abided by but…pettiness. “If you need the soldiers so bad then write the letter yourself. Sign it and send it as yourself the general because frankly ‘we’ don’t need his men…the second army does, you do.”

“Y/n you don’t get to—“

“Lady y/l/n.” She corrected him mid sentence shrugging her shoulders, he wasn’t on first name terms with his own wife even the marriage was quite formal and political, should he believe that he had the authority over her to by using her first name in disdain she’d rather prove him wrong.

“Y/l/n.” He corrected his words with gritted teeth “Sign it. Be done with it.” Aleksander was running out of patience to convince or put forward any debate whilst she remained calm as ever as if he stance his words had no effect on her.

Y/n exhaled and she took the paper in her hands walking across the table to him, she looked at the letter one time as though she were considering signing it right before she tore it apart in his face and let the pieces of paper fall to the floor “I won’t.”

Aleksander huffed, he stood as if that action did not phase him, something he expected at the start of their conversation “It is almost humorous and immature to see how low you are willing to steep just to get a rise out of me.”

All of this over a sign…y/n said in her head yet she knew this conversation would only go further and further to no end. Aleksander was so head strong out of all she tried to explain it why she wouldn’t sign the letter he stood the same ground, “Ah yes of course my favourite hobby!” She said sarcastically rolling her eyes as she attempted to walk past him.

Aleksander stopped y/n in her tracks holding her by her upper arm, taken aback by this sudden action she tried to maintain her distance yet he gave her a firm tug towards him to sound more sincere “You might think you are so much above me with your moral grounds and your honour, silver spoon fed princess y/n, but you stand here, at the little palace, taking your council meetings as the general’s wife…and that’s what bothers you so much doesn’t it?” He sneered “It hurts your petty conscience…however you put it y/n you are not much different than me—you married me.”

“You know Aleksander, I did not have a say in this. It was announced I was to be married to the general…you. Before our wedding I didn’t even know what you looked like, my beliefs had nothing to do with our marriage my father simply married me off to a stranger on the king’s orders. You are just too arrogant to be around.” so much for the spoiled princess. Y/n replied bluntly as she looked at him and he seemed lost at words letting go of his grip on her arm. He instantly regretted his phrasing aware that must’ve stung her, he was not one to apologise but before he could even show his slight remorse for the words he chose she was already walking out her office, leaving him alone…a frequent sight for him. Sight he didn’t want to admit to but hated being used to, her walking away.

—

A distasteful marriage had both Aleksander and Y/n bound to societal presence of being a rather joyous couple, hand in hand and smiling at the guests of the gala. One of the king’s many monthly amusements. Gather Royal gossiping and as Aleksander put it, arse kissing guests time to time for fine dining despite of what goes on within the country. Y/n was raised amongst these dinner parties of fake smiles and niceties, just assuming her smiles wouldn’t be as fake around her own husband was something she hadn’t planned. But there they were, the general and his wife, y/n graciously laughing at his comments as they talked to the Royal guests, arm in arm as if it wasn’t mere hours ago that two of them had an argument over council matters. “Ah Y/n!” One of the ladies from the Royal guests called her as she approached her and Aleksander. “General” the lady nodded respectfully. “You look lovely tonight princess-or should I say lady general now?” The lady commented as she let out a cheerful laugh.

“You wound me by addressing me with titles when you’re quite literally my favourite!” Y/n exclaimed with a courteous smile, “You are on first name basis hmm? Don’t insult our bond with titles!” Truthfully y/n didn’t even remember the name of the Lady who so cheerfully greeted her and Aleksander, she remembered her face from a few of royal dinners and galas from earlier and that was about enough for a small talk. However the ‘first name basis’ was a taunt to Aleksander which he must’ve registered the way his lips fell into a thin smile to seem as if he wasn’t phased.

“They say marriage changes people quite a lot but you two just as gallant as your wedding day!” The lady exclaimed.

“Why thank you that is very polite.” Aleksander spoke with a short nod, he was never the one to get so much involved in any of the small talks it seemed his wife was quite the master with remembering a lot of details about almost every royal guest she did most the talking for him while he’d stand there with small courtesies.

“Surely! And for a marriage to change you it requires quite a lot of the couple to be so present don’t you agree?” Y/n said to the lady in such a subtle manner though her words weighed heavy sly comments directed to Aleksander.

“Oh you are so right! As workaholic as the general is I imagine it is difficult to get his time.” The lady joked unaware of the original scenario of their marriage being worse than that. Y/n didn’t get his time, his thoughts or attention outside of these dinner parties anyways. She never took it up with Aleksander of course, it was bound to be met with disdain. Yet it didn’t stomach her well how getting Aleksander’s time out of his ‘workaholic’ schedule seemed something difficult to the lady and not y/n’s time. She was on the first army council herself and worked just as much…nothing new.

“Happens so often…” y/n’s voice trailed off as she chuckled at what seemed to be a light hearted mention of her husband’s businesses to the lady, “you’d be surprised” y/n added softly for Aleksander to hear. And he did, he’d been hearing these comments and taunts quite a few times in the course of that entire evening.

He thought maybe it had something to do with the correlation of their argument earlier, wether it was or wasn’t his patience wore so thin. After the dinner of snide remarks it almost seemed endless to Aleksander. Once it was over he walked back to y/n’s chambers with her, they left these events together so it would seem that they had the same bedchamber. However when y/n got inside hers thinking Aleksander would walk further down the hall to his, he walked inside the room with her. Y/n simply turned around when he entered alongside her before she could begin to ask the reason for it he shut the door behind him and stood afar exhaling “What was all that about?” He spoke and it seemed so demanding.

“What?” She asked truly clueless, she didn’t think those comments would actually get to him, most of those she most probably forgot even making.

“You kept on taunting me the entire evening!” He said crossing his arms trying his best to maintain his composure yet his body language was so angry and frustrated.

“Oh did I now?” Y/n asked tilting her head trying to go though some of the conversations in her head where he must’ve felt that she had done that, maybe.

“Y/n it-“

“Uh?” Y/n interrupted him mid sentence as he used her first name.

Aleksander spoke further regardless “It was disrespectful to me.”

“Are you going to have another one of your tantrums again? I did not have enough wine for this…” y/n sighed with her subtle composure and if only irritated Aleksander more and more. However much he tried to result her misconduct to her she seemed to be treating it so trivially.

“I am serious.” He said flatly and brisk of frustration lingered his tone.

“So am I. I truly did not drink enough to go through this again” Y/n said raising her brows at him, she gathered that if she reacted and engaged with him seriously, it wasn’t as if he was going to listen secondly he was awaiting for her to react the way he wanted her to so he could tell her how much of an inconvenience to she was to him. To his plans.

“You can’t just ignore me with sarcasm!” Aleksander exclaimed and he felt as though he would loose his temper so he exhaled taking in a breath for that situation to not arise, he wanted to prove his point across and it wouldn’t happen if he acted rather harshly or she wouldn’t be open to listen to him “I am your husband-why don’t I get to call you by your name?”

“Why? Lady y/l/n, lady general, lady wife doesn’t suffice?” She replied leaning on the table in the large bed chambers where he still stood by the doors.

“I address you with titles when you are surrounded and in meetings out of respect but amongst the two of us—“

“There is no amongst the two of us!” Y/n said this time as the subtlety of her tone leaving her. It was beyond her understanding how he his thought process counted her the harbinger of their unpleasant marriage. She threw her hands in the air pointing this to him “This might just be one of the few times where we’re ‘amongst the two of us’ behind closed doors and we are arguing! That’s the most you see for us.”

“Why are you so strongly opinionated towards me? I have never wronged you in any way!” He said exclaiming as he walked a few steps towards her both of their tones so above decency as their conversation got heated.

“Me? I am strongly opinionated? My husband doesn’t even share the same bed as me and you are saying that? Under different circumstances you wouldn’t have married me I’m not your like am I? I am not grisha—had it not been for your political status you wouldn’t even have this conversation. Me! It’s me-I am the one who has never wronged you yet I despise you that much.” Y/n spoke as her voice cracked by the end of it, she had went through this in her head a lot. Everything she could be doing right for him to stop being as cold to her until he drove her to stop believing in them.

Aleksander took a long pause before he spoke, he had never realised that this is what she’d been feeling due to him but it wasn’t is intention. “You…you don’t despise me.” He spoke looking away from him almost as if he couldn’t meet her gaze.

“Alright…sure! You can say anything you want to have the last word of this argument but it does not change the truth!” She spoke frustrated just then Aleksander leaped towards her grabbing the sides of her arms and pinned her to the wall, y/n just started at him blankly just registering how fast that had happened.

“You want to know the truth y/n? The truth is I am exhausted to see you disregard my love for you over and over because you do not fathom it. I have always hated those galas and dinner parties yet you make me await them so I could get to be close to you, if only for the mask of being a happy couple but I so miserably await being close to you. It is difficult to even work around you knowing out of everything I could want of the whole world I want you, your love and it is the one thing I can’t have—you don’t deserve my infuriating love, the darkness of it and had I not pushed you away you would’ve loved me like someone entitled to. I don’t want that entitled, dutiful love…I want it yours. Wholly yours. But it is getting difficult to push you away..” he finished as the two of them gazed into each other’s eyes for quite the long moment. This was the most close they had been and neither seemed to move.

“Aleksander…” finally y/n said softly as her gaze softened towards him. Comprehending everything he just said. His expressions were truly taken aback when she said his name, for someone wanting to be that long buried part of himself, “Kiss me.” She looked at him unfaltering, as he pulled her into him from the waist letting go of her arms and crashed his lips onto hers. Such strong desire of a pushed away love, heavy, unfathomable, messy love. Y/n wrapped her arms around him as the two of them kissed their wearies away.

—

I’m going to write more w s2 plots so let me know if you want to be tagged or request something <333

Hi pls if you’re supposed to be studying or doing anything future you would hate you for being here instead of finishing that please go do it I am in fail girl summer rn and I regret it I love u

#general kirigan x reader #darkling x reader #darkling x reader angst #darkling shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morovoza #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader angst #general kirigan x reader smut #general kirigan #the darkling x you #darkling x fem!reader #darkling smut #shadow and bone fanfiction

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thebadgerclan · 1 year

Text

Unaware

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: Some at the Sanctuary are unaware of who you are...

A/N: This is the “protective husband fluff” that I mentioned earlier, but I don’t have an exam next week, so I’m gonna write the other one to lol

I was thinking about how much I think Aleksander would hate people saying that his wife “belongs to him” and crap, so voila

Y/G/T is your Grisha type (Heartrender, Inferni, etc.) and Y/G/C is your Grisha color (red, blue, purple)

Life at the Sanctuary was…different than you were used to. At the Little Palace, there was order; the Grisha had their duties and were kept busy by them, they had their ranks and they stuck to them. But here, in this abandoned noble’s country estate, with no formal training, no Second Army duties to attend to, no children to teach, the Grisha were restless. Restless, and some angry about what had happened to your people, angry that General Kirigan had taken so long to rescue some of them.

And there were Grisha being brought in every day, some that had never resided at the Little Palace, and therefore, had no idea who you were. It didn’t help that when you’d fled the Little Palace, you’d been in your Y/G/C kefta rather than your black, making you appear as just another Y/G/T rather than the wife of the General. There was one such Grisha, Androv, who hadn’t lived at the Palace, and had no idea who you were, that you tried impossibly hard to avoid, but to no avail.

You were in what had become the mess hall of the Sanctuary, several sheets of parchment spread before you. Aleksander had asked you to compile a list of the Grisha who had been known residents of the Little Palace that had yet to arrive at the Sanctuary, in the hopes that a search party could be assembled. But you’d barely scratched the surface when the roster you were referencing was swept from the table on a gust of wind.

“Hello beautiful,” Androv greeted, and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “Androv,” you replied curtly, rising from your seat to retrieve your paper. “Is there something I can do for you?” The Squaller smirked, flicking his wrist and blowing the paper further away from you. “You’ve been playing hard to get, haven’t you? Pretending you don’t see me, acting like you don’t know what I want.”

Everyone in the mess hall had turned to watch; those who knew who you were with fear in their eyes, those who didn’t with concern and interest. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, stooping to reach for the roster. Androv stepped closer to you, his body pressed to yours. You shot upright, body going stiff, blood running cold. “Get away from me,” you whispered, panic seeping in.

You knew you should shove him away, use your power to get him away from you, but fear had frozen you, stealing your ability to call your power. Unseen, the nichevo’ya that followed you always slithered from the room, intent to alert its master to your distress. Aleksander, who was in the room he’d claimed as his study, felt a knot form in his chest and abandoned his work, rushing through the corridors towards the pull he felt to you.

“And where would be the fun in that, darling?” Androv cooed, wrapping his arms around your middle. You wanted to fight, to scream, to do anything, but you were petrified. Tears streaked down your cheeks, and the Squaller laughed. “So pretty when you cry,” he sneered. A dreadful, cold, sickening feeling had filled Aleksander’s chest, and he broke into a run, needing to find you, to protect you from whatever was causing you such feelings.

“What are you doing?” Fruzsi, your husband’s new second, asked as she entered. Androv turned to face her, but did not let you go. “Oh relax,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just a bit of fun.” The Tidemaker stepped closer, and while you didn’t quite like the woman, at least she was coming to your defense. “She belongs to Kirigan!” It was at that moment that Aleksander entered, and at the sight before him and Fruzsi’s words, his nichevo’ya writhed angrily.

“I will give you exactly ten seconds to unhand my wife and explain what gives you the right to attempt to force yourself on any woman,” your husband said, voice dangerous. Androv shoved you to the ground, as if that would be any redemption, and you cried out. Aleksander came to your side, offering you his hands and gently helping you to your feet. “Aleksander, I… he…”

“Shhh, it’s alright, my love,” you husband soothed, wrapping you in his arms. His voice was calm and gentle, but his gaze was murderous. The nichevo’ya skittered around you, but you knew that they were protecting you, that they could never hurt you. “Do you care to explain yourself?” your husband asked. “I didn’t know,” Androv stuttered. “I didn’t know she belonged to you.”

You felt Aleksanders anger spike, as well as saw it; his shadow monsters shrieked. “Allow me to make one thing perfectly clear,” he said. “To all of you. Y/N does not belong to anyone. She belongs to herself. Yes, she is my wife, but she does not belong to me.” Aleksander flicked his wrist, and an inky gash opened on Fruzsi’s cheek. “Why?” she screamed, and your husband scoffed. “What have I done?”

“You implied that Y/N is property. That, Fruszi, was a warning. As for you.” Your husband pressed a kiss to your cheek and whispered for you to look away as he unwound his arms from your body. “Not only did I witness you forcing your attentions on one of my soldiers, I witnessed you forcing your attentions on my wife. And I do not take such an offense lightly.”

With another flick of his wrist a nichevo’ya surged forth and attacked, tearing Androv’s head from his body, his face permanently etched into a scream. Aleksander immediately took you back into his arms, holding you close. “Let this be a lesson,” he said, addressing his Grisha. “To those who would try to disrespect my wife, and to those who attempt to force themselves upon anyone else.”

Aleksander lifted you into his arms and carried you from the room, his nichevo’ya trailing obediently behind. When you were back in your rooms, he gently sat on the bed, keeping you in his lap. “My love, are you alright?” he asked, looking you over for any sign of injury. “I’m so sorry, I should have known, I should have taken care of him before.” “I’m alright,” you said, sniffling. “Shaken, but alright. He was really just irritating until…”

“That will never happen again,” your husband vowed. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you had to endure that.” Aleksander pulled you close, and you let yourself drown in his embrace. “You were there,” you whispered, kissing his collarbones, where your head rested. “He didn’t hurt me, and you were there.” Your husband squeezed his eyes shut, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you so much, my Y/N,” he whispered, and you pressed your lips to his. With your kiss, you felt some of the tension drain out of him, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will do everything within my power to protect you.” “I know you will, Aleksander,” you replied, kissing him again. “I love you.” In a perfect world, Aleksander would be at your side constantly, defending you from any and every threat.

But this was not a perfect world: he was at war, his people were fractured, his resources were spread thin. It simply wasn’t possible to protect you from everything, especially from the people he thought he could trust, the people he thought were on his side. But what Aleksander could do, he would. He would ensure his soldiers knew who you were; that you were to be respected and to be protected. He would have his nichevo’ya follow you, to alert him to any imminent threat. And while it wouldn’t protect you, he would love you–he would love you so fiercely and completely that you might just forget about the war raging on your doorstep.

#aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone reader insert

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kasagia · 3 months

Text

Today marks ONE year of my writing on Tumblr!

And I didn't manage to finish the oneshot for our Aleksander (I'm so sorry :c ), so I wanted to at least share with you a fragment of what I will publish soon.

And thank you for all the comments, hearts and follows (THERE ARE OVER 1111 OF YOU!!!!! I can't believe it!!!!) THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I love you all! 🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵

A fragment from: "His mortal saviour" - coming soon...

The first thing he felt was warmth. The warmth, which wasn't at all in the fold. He shuddered and remembered how the cold had penetrated his body even more the moment the volcra's claws had dug into his face.

Then he felt the softness of the mattress beneath his back instead of the hardness of the sandy, packed soil. Further evidence proving that he was entirely somewhere else was the sound of soft footsteps and humming a few feet away from him.

He opened his eyes hesitantly and hissed, unaccustomed to the light after being unconscious for so long.

He freezes as he feels a hand on his eyes, keeping the sunlight from reaching them. Little. Soft. Alina... a thought comes to him, and he quickly laughs it off. His little sun summoner would probably rather blind him completely with her sun than protect him from more pain.

"Take it easy. You've been badly harmed." A soft female voice breaks the silence and pulls him from his thoughts about the woman who betrayed him and their kind.

He feels a strange rush of fear as he hears a female voice. Aleksander unwillingly recalls the memory of the time when he and his mother were captured by the Drüskelle. He felt like he did now. Helpless.

He was unable to move even a small distance on his own. The only difference was that no one was hanging over him with scalpels and other blades or hurling insults. But he suspected that could change very quickly...

He had to do something. He needed to get out of here somehow, but every slight movement of his muscles was accompanied by a huge wave of searing pain throughout his whole body. And for a brief moment, it occurred to him that maybe destroying the fold wasn't such a bad idea.

"Don't worry. I am not a psychopath, mad, serial killer, or anything. I'm a nurse. I saw you near the fold and took you to my house to heal you. It's a miracle you survived your encounter with the volcra. Usually, no one gets out of the fold. Certainly not on their own." The woman says, slowly removing her hand from his eyes.

He's too dazed by the light, busy taking in his surroundings and seeing her face for the first time, to notice that she's adjusting the bandages on his face and checking his wounds.

But he hisses, feeling the burning pain on his forehead as she rubs some thick, gooey liquid onto him.

"I'm sorry, but I have to. It's an ointment against infection. This should also numb you enough so that you don't feel any pain in your face. How's your back?"

He is too shocked to respond. As he takes a breath, he has a sudden coughing fit. She moves away from him. He hears her quick footsteps as she returns a moment later with a cup of water and a tissue. He spits something black out of his mouth, desperately trying to get some air. She strokes his back gently and leans him more forward, making him spit out all the black goo mixed with his saliva from his throat.

He frowns, staring at the tissue soaked in black liquid.

"Don't worry, it's absolutely normal. Every time they bring a survivor from the fold to the infirmary, something like this happens. The air is different there, and volcra tend to infect their victims. Let's just say it's some kind of poison that comes out of you. That's a good sign. As well as the fact that you woke up. Here." The woman says, taking the tissue from him and throwing it into a nearby trash can. He glances there, seeing that it is half full of black dressings and bandages. He looks back at her as she hands him a glass of water.

"What do you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse from disuse (or screaming in the fold), not taking a sip from the cup you gave him. It could be poisoned or worse.

"I... I don't understand." You say, confused by his hostile attitude.

"What do you want from me?" He repeats it again, and the commanding, demanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Nothing. I'm just helping." You reply with a shrug, which annoys him even more. He laughs mockingly, making you frown.

"Selflessly? To a stranger? Don't make me look like a naive idiot. Tell me right now who you are, what you want, and where we are, and you won't get hurt."

"With all due respect, I doubt you'd be able to raise your hand right now, let alone hold a gun or sword, or hit me, even if you were a soldier of the First Army." He stares at you in surprise, realising that you have no idea who he is, and maybe you really just helped him.

Could a normal person dare to speak back to the Darkling with such courage and anger in her eyes? He didn't think so. But one name comes to his mind... even though he's too hurt to think about her.

"What?" You ask him as he stares at you for a little too long.

"Nothing." He clears his throat and stares warily at the offered water. "Not many people surprise me." He explains, still not believing in your good intentions. You couldn't be so altruistic as to help a strange man who got spat out by the fold. People weren't kind or helpful to the weak, at least never towards him. That's why he always had to be stronger than others. To never become prey again.

"I see that you don't trust many either. If I pour for myself and you water from one jug and drink it first, will you consider doing the same? You need to rehydrate." You say it calmly, completely unfazed by his distrust.

For some reason, this makes him more surly towards you. Maybe this whole act on your part was just to keep his guard down until someone came for him, for example, Shu, Drüskelle, or even Alina's group of heroes. He had to get away from here. As soon as he regained full control over his aching body.

“Try to deceive me, and I will make sure to wipe out your family lineage to the last living generation.” He growls hoarsely, trying to regain at least some semblance of control in this situation.

"It's good that I'm an orphan then." You say, pouring him and yourself a glass of water and showing him that both are empty.

Another orphan... he thinks as you reach both glasses so he can choose which one he wants.

[...]

"You will leave me alone?" He ask. He can't believe that you would really leave him—a strange man you didn't know at all—in your house all alone.

"Do you need a company?" You ask mockingly, using the exact same cold tone of voice he used before. Aleksander decides he liked you much more when you were soft towards him.

"Aren't you afraid I'll rob you and run away?"

"There are only herbs, medicines, and a few books here. I have nothing so valuable that I couldn't get it on the market if you decided to take it. You can look around if you want. Although I wouldn't advise you to get up, your wounds are still fresh and barely sealed, so they don't bleed."

"Are you insane?" He can't help but ask, as you really are going out.

"All the best people are. Try not to die. It would be a waste of medicines and bandages." You say this and smile amusedly as you close the door behind you.

Aleksander blinks, surprised, as he lays in your bed. He tries to understand what has happened here, but he still has a headache and needs to get out of here.

He didn't trust you at all.

So before anyone could come and get him from you, he stood up. His legs are shaky at the beginning, but as he walks around your (tiny) cottage, he regains the ability to walk… maybe not as well as he did, but enough to move.

He looks around, just as you suggested, but he didn't find any proff that would confirm his suspicion. But it doesn't stop him from taking some pills and herbs before he leaves your house. He makes sure to take only a little—enough to get to the village or somewhere where he could find his people.

You were too kind to be robbed.

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