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lassieposting · 11 months

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Anyway, fucking obsessed with the implied Kirigan/Ivan friendship, so have some headcanons

- So Ivan is one of a relatively small group of survivors old enough to remember the previous Darkling - Aleksander's last identity. He's a military brat and the only Grisha in an all-otkazat'sya family, so he lost a lot of family members very young. Aleksander has always refused to have First Army emissaries coming onto Little Palace property with hostile attitudes and condescension to traumatise baby Grisha, so when a student loses a First Army family member, he tends to break the news himself; it's the least he can do given none of them asked to be forcibly enlisted in a war they didn't start. Ivan, whose family were virtually all First Army, got pulled out of classes for a sombre talk with "Kirigan Sr" a few times, and developed a lot of respect for him.

- At some point, while Ivan is still young, the old Darkling retires to the family estate, citing age-related health concerns; even Grisha get old eventually. He completes the rest of his service via correspondence, and sends "his son" Aleksander into the Second Army to train to replace him.

- This is a habit of Aleksander's - when he changes identity, he starts back at the bottom and works his way back up through the ranks. A General needs a lot of things to do his job effectively: a network of loyal, trustworthy lieutenants to delegate to, a history of proven military experience, and the trust of the monarch he serves. Changing identities essentially means he loses all that, and the best way to build it back is to rejoin the army. His old guard - who not only remain loyal to his old way of doing things but also could potentially figure out his ruse - can be respectfully grandfathered out to less strenuous positions, replaced with new underlings loyal to his new self, who served with or under him on the front lines. By the time he takes over at court again, he's gained a whole new military history, and the king has met him several times already, to pin medals on a very promising young officer. It's easier to just have a new military career than to come in unproven and deal with the consequences at court.

- When Ivan is old enough to fight, he ends up serving under then-Captain Aleksander Kirigan. He has no idea that his new CO is the same old man who patted his shoulder while he bawled into his kefta over his dead father and brothers, but Aleksander remembers Ivan, and earmarks him for future leadership roles. There's always a superior/underling professional boundary there, but over the years Ivan and Kirigan become quite close, and eventually Ivan becomes his de facto #2. As someone who has no one, this relationship is incredibly meaningful to Ivan, and he responds with the kind of gruff affection and trustworthiness that Aleksander hasn't had in a long time. So while he'd never admit it, Ivan's friendship is very important to him too.

- Ivan's period of compulsory service ends. He has options, limited though they are, to leave the Second Army; he could take a research postgraduate place at the Little Palace, or become a teacher for small Grisha, or find paid work in a noble house somewhere. He refuses all of them. What he wants - what he's always wanted - is to be a career soldier.

- So when he's medically discharged from service, he's devastated. It's battle-shock, they tell him, and it makes him a danger to himself and others on the front lines. Kirigan takes a bullet dragging him, frozen, out of the way of advancing Fjerdans with repeating rifles. He's not fit to fight.

- And suddenly, he's utterly lost. Fighting is all he's ever known, the only thing he's good at, the only future he ever saw himself having. He makes a few comments to friends that leave them seriously concerned, and one of them goes to the newly-minted General. Aleksander pulls some strings on Ivan's behalf to stave off a complete discharge. Instead of being booted out of the army completely, he's shunted sideways into a new job as Kirigan's aide-de-camp - basically a personal assistant to run his life for him while he focuses on Military Things.

- It's not what Ivan saw in his future, but he's incredibly grateful not to be sent home to rot. He throws himself into his new role with everything he's got, determined not to make Kirigan regret it. He makes sure correspondence is sent on time, he makes sure the General gets where he needs to be when he needs to be there, he manages supplies and personal requests and bodyguarding. He's still Kirigan's right hand man, just in a different sphere. And over time, as the pressure of chessmastering two wars ramps up, he takes on more and more little tasks and becomes increasingly indispensable until Aleksander really isn't sure how he used to function without Ivan. There's a kind of symbiosis there, eventually. Ivan is Pepper Potts to Kirigan's Tony Stark: he usually knows what his boss needs before Kirigan asks for it, he knows a lot more about Kirigan than he'd ever let on, and Kirigan would be far less effective and put-together without him.

- One day, Ivan meets Fedyor Kaminsky. Ivan proceeds to spend the next few years pining over Fedyor Kaminsky, because he is emotionally inept, sharp-tempered and struggles to endear himself to anyone that isn't also a gruff, hardened war veteran. Fedyor is young and idealistic and still believes in things like hope and heroism. He's still in active service, but he's thinking of maybe leaving after the compulsory term to teach. He's good with the little Grisha.

- This crush shocks fucking everyone who knows Ivan, because at this point it's basically a running joke among the Little Palace's higher-ups that he'll never marry - he's too devoted to the General to have room in his life for romance. Fedyor is not what anyone - Ivan included - expected Ivan to like, but hey, opposites attract. Kirigan tolerates several years of long-distance Yearning™ with good grace.

- Fedyor and Ivan court for quite a while, and figure out how they fit a) together and b) into each other's lives. Fedyor has a long hard think about whether he can see himself marrying a man like Ivan - he knows Ivan is pretty codependent with General Kirigan, knows how traumatised he is, knows how dedicated he is to his job, knows he's uncertain about ever wanting children, knows that their marriage would essentially be "This is my husband Ivan and Ivan's boss, General Kirigan." And eventually, he decides he can deal with that; Ivan is worth it. He stays in the army rather than leave, to be close to Ivan.

- Ivan brings up the wedding to Aleksander precisely once, to tell him that he'd be honoured if Aleksander would officiate. The way he says it is offhand, low expectations, because a General has more important things to do than go to an employee's wedding. Aleksander hmms, not even taking his eyes off the report he's reading, and says, "Give me a date when you have one and I'll see if I can spare the time."

- He makes the time. Ivan usually manages his schedule, but he damn well makes sure that day is free personally, because he knows Ivan won't prioritise his wedding over a meeting with the king, or whatever, and nope. He's unavailable for meetings that day. He has somewhere to be.

- He marries them. And wrangles a whole three weeks off for Ivan, so they can have a honeymoon.

- However. Going on a honeymoon means leaving Kirigan unattended, so Ivan coming back from his honeymoon is basically this:

- And like, it's not that Aleksander can't look after himself. It's just that Ivan has been doing so much for him for so fucking long that he's forgotten he needs to do those things. He's so used to Ivan Handling It, that it's only when it comes back to bite him in the ass that he's like oh, yeah, Ivan is on leave. Ivan has literally never seen Kirigan this openly glad to see him, please fix his calendar he has four meetings today in four different places and they're all at the same time, never leave again.

- Fedyor becomes bodyguard #2 after a brief blip in their marriage where he and Ivan spend a lot of time rowing over how little they see each other. He feels neglected, and he's second-guessing whether he can tolerate the Ivan-Kirigan codependence issue. Ivan and Aleksander are not the type to have deep conversations about their feelings - they bully each other into self-care once it starts affecting their ability to do their jobs. Ivan bullies Aleksander into eating or sleeping or getting fresh air, and Aleksander bullies Ivan into admitting he's having marital issues. His solve is to offer Fedyor a job - that way, he and Ivan will get to spend most of their time together. Sharing his duties with Fedyor also frees up a fair amount of Ivan's time, which is hard for him at first, but good for their relationship in the long run.

- Fedyor develops his own relationship with Kirigan, over time. Sometimes, his softly-softly approach can get results out of a stressed-out sleep-deprived General where Ivan's no-bullshit confrontational style would cause a row. They respect each other, and like each other as boss/underling, but there's not the friendship there that there is with Ivan. The professional barrier is a lot more pronounced - Ivan can get away with calling Aleksander "Kirigan" at times - when he's being particularly vexing, mostly - but Fedyor could not.

- By canon, they've settled nicely into their You, Me & The General Makes Three marriage. It's become an in-joke between them that Kirigan is, in turns, the third spouse, the kid, or the dog:

("Fedya, I don't know if I'll ever be ready to be a father. I have no idea how to look after a child."

"Oh, nonsense, darling, you do a wonderful job every day with General Kirigan.")

("Beloved, you should go rescue your other husband. The Kerch ambassador has him cornered by the punch fountain.")

- Genya also gets in on this vein of in-joke from time to time - but only with Fedyor, never with Ivan.

("So if you two ever divorce, who gets custody?"

"Of the General? Oh, he does. It'd be cruel to separate them, you know? They'd pine.")

- They are all under the impression that the General is completely unaware of these jokes, because they're unprofessional and he'd surely disapprove. They have no idea that when Aleksander enters a room without Ivan half a step behind him, half the time Nikolai still thinks it's funny to ask, "Where's the rest of you?"

- And despite everything, they still both refuse to admit they see each other as anything more than, basically, boss and devoted servant. The last ~150 years? Entirely professional.

But. Yeah. Nah. Friends.

#aleksander kirigan #ivan kaminsky #fedyor kaminsky #fivan #darkolai #sab headcanons #also gonna tag this as #sab d3 #because all my headcanons are d3-inspired #sab

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wednesday-fanatic · 11 months

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Who I Will Write For and What I Will Write For

Will: Smut, fluff, angst, death, I will do Dom/sub dynamics, choking, masterbation, overestimulation, hard doms, soft doms.

Wont: Piss kink, shit kink, creampie, not too rough of sex (but I will do rough sex), and I will not write for use of toys.

Fandoms:

FREE REIN

Pin Hawthorne

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SHADOW AND BONE

Kaz Brekker

Jesper Fahey

Alina Starkov

General Kirigan

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MANIFEST

Ben Stone

Olive Stone

Cal Stone

Zeke Landon

Jared Vasquez

TJ Morrison

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DEADLY CLASS

Marcus Lopez

Saya Kuroki

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HARRY POTTER

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

Lorenzo Berkshire

Matteo Riddle

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MARAUDERS ERA

Young!James Potter

Young!Regulus Black

Young!Peter Pettigrew

Young!Remus Lupin

Young!Sirius Black

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NARNIA

Edmund Pevensie

Peter Pevensie

Prince Caspian

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BUNK'D

Griff Jones

Xander McCormick

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HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON

Hiccup Haddock

Astrid Hofferson

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ZOMBIES 2

Wyatt Lykensen

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SECRETS OF SULPHUR SPRINGS

Griffin Campbell

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DRAGONS: THE NINE REALMS

Tom Kullerson

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WEDNESDAY

Wednesday Addams

Tyler Galpin

Xavier Thorpe

Ajax

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Barry Allen

Caitlin Snow

Alex Danvers

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MARVEL

Loki Laugherson

Tony Stark

Peter Parker (Tom Holland and Andrew Garfield)

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OUAT

Peter Pan

Felix

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MIRACULOUS

Chat Noir

Adrien Agreste

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HEARTLAND

Ty Borden

Dylan Westfield

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ENOLA HOLMES

Sherlock Holmes

Tewksbury

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ANNE WITH AN E

Gilbert Blythe

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RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

Jack Frost

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I do requests. I will do X Reader and X OC.

Message me through my profile if you have a request. I do not really check comments, so it's easier for me to get requests through a message then a comment

I will write for characters from Kings Choice which is a game on the Google play store. I dont know why but im in love with some of the characters, like, the way their animated is hot. Here's who I'll write for from the game:

Lance

Beth/Ian

Ryan

Esmerelda

Eva

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I will do smut, fluff, and angst for the Kings Choice game. I take requests for them too

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rose-sophia-isabella-rogers · 1 year

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A Tale of Stolen Hearts: Chapter I - How Stealing One Thing Led You to More Than You Bargained for

Summary: You meet General Aleksander Kirigan in an unusual circumstances. You steal something from him. To get out of this mess, you're forced to travel with him all the way to Fjerda. You don't take a liking to each other, but you become stuck with each other for some time. During these weeks, you slowly start to understand each other more… and feel something. Together, you face many dangers but you prevail. But will you succeed in your mission? And will your fragile heart survive the closeness of one handsome General of the Second Army?

A/N: I have returned! With the promised fanfic about General KiriganxReader. It took me longer than I thought, but I had a lot of distractions. But it is here now and I really hope you will like it. Happy reading! As usual, I don't own anything from "Shadow and Bone". Also, remember I didn't read the books (yet?). And English isn't my first language, so if you see some mistakes, let me know.

Chapter Summary: What happens when you steal from the most powerful man in Ravka?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader

Word Count: 3936

A/N: Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089550833/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533161/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533260/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533275/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533209/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533284/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089550815/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533242/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533271/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089554932/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

It's night. Caryeva is mostly deserted. Darkness holds the city in its hold and does not want to let it go. It's perfect time for various of criminals and people with dark intentions to walk the streets. Since this is exactly what you're doing, does that make you a bad person? You'd argue about it.

Shadows are your friends. You feel more at ease in them than in the light. Easier to hide, easier to disappear. But you don't think you're a bad person. But you know you're not a good person either. However, the guy that suddenly shows up next to you probably is.

'Money or your life?' he snarls, pressing the gun in his hand to the side of your head. You laugh.

'Bold of you to assume that I want to live,' you say. 'And that I have money.'

The man looks at you, confused. You turn your head. Moonlight shines on your face. The man looks at you, horrified. You sigh inwardly.

Here we go…

'Miss Elizabeth [L/N]!' the man stutters and pulls away the gun from you. You stop yourself from sighing for real. This situation? It's not the first time.

You often get mistaken for your twin sister. It never used to bother you, but now that she's become the most dangerous crime boss in the city it's starting to get awkward. But sometimes, like tonight, it can be useful.

'Scram,' you say to the man, your eyes ice cold. The man is gone in a second. You sigh heavily and continue on your way. You stop a few minutes later in front of one of the bars. You enter it and at once are attacked by sounds and smell of alcohol.

'From all the places…' you say, scrunching your nose. You take a deep breath and get into the crowd of drunk people. Every hand that gets near you gets immediately slapped. Finally, you reach a table occupied by one man. His hair is blonde, eyes are blue and his smile is dazzling.

'Hey, [Y/N],' he says and gets up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 'Glad you could make it.'

'I did, Dominic, but next time please pick a different venue,' you ask, looking around you with disgust. 'This place is horrible.'

'Trust me, it's still not the worst place I could think off,' Dominic says, grinning. 'What's your poison?'

'You know very well I'm not here for drinks,' you say, giving him a look. Dominic sighs and raises his hands in surrender.

'Fine, fine,' he says and sighs. 'Sometimes you're not fun at all.'

'You know I'm in a hurry,' you say. 'So? What do you have for me?'

Dominic's eyes shine. He grins.

'Oh, you're gonna love it,' he says. 'Do you know who have arrived to our city? Grisha. And not just any Grisha. They are from the Little Palace.'

'Are they having something valuable with them?' you ask. Dominic nods.

'Some very important pendant,' he answers. 'Apparently, a Saint gave it to one of the Grisha. Don't ask me which Saint and which Grisha, I didn't listen. I hear only words: important, pendant, expensive.'

'I hope you also heard where it is being held,' you say. Dominic presses a hand to his chest in a mock offense.

'Have I ever failed you?' he asks. You raise your eyebrow at him.

'Do you really want me to answer that question?' you ask. Dominic is silent for a moment.

'Fair enough,' he says finally, shrugging. 'So? Did I meet your expectations?'

'I'll tell you once I get this pendant,' you answer. 'Tell me what I need to know.'

'The Grisha are staying in our very fancy hotel,' Dominic says.

'I feel for them,' you say.

'Yeah, I know. Anyway, the pendant is in a room 222.'

'Doesn't sound fancy.'

'Did you expect more from our hotel? The pendant should be kept in a drawer. I think it was next to the bed.'

'You think?'

'Yeah. Also, there's some party tomorrow night and all Grisha from the hotel are going to be there. I'd say it's a perfect for a little theft.'

'I say. Well done. Just tell me one thing. Did you gather all of that information while having sex?'

'Why do you think that?'

'By the lack of some information. It sounds like you were… preoccupied to remember them.'

'… I won't deny nor confirm it.'

'… You're such a dork. Thanks for it.'

'Yeah, no problem. Good luck with that… and that other thing.'

Dominic looks at you with compassion. You stare at him for a moment. You force a smile.

'Thanks,' you say and stand up. You pay him for his trouble and hurry out of the bar. No need to stay there longer than necessary. Once outside, you breath in the fresh air. Or at least fresher.

'Hello, lady,' a drunk man says, staggering toward you. 'Are you up for some fun?'

'Not tonight, sorry,' you answer, scaring him with a knife to his throat, and grin. 'But tomorrow… tomorrow is gonna be full of fun.'

You watch the hotel from the shadows. After a few minutes you walk to the back door and open it using your tools. You hear a click and smirk. You open the door and sneak inside. After locking the door behind you, you look around. You hear voices of the hotel service but they're far away. No one is around.

You take off your coat, revealing clothes of hotel service. You hide your coat, straighten up and walk forward, acting like you belong here. A moment later you're between the staff. You bump into someone.

'Oh, sorry,' you apologise and continue on your way. And just like that you have keys to hotel rooms. You quickly grab some hotel cart with cleaning supplies and make your way to an elevator. You press the button for floor number two and wait. Soon the door opens and you step outside.

You look around the corridor and head toward room 222. After finding it, you use the keys you snatched and open the door. You enter it and cautiously look around. But like Dominic said, no one is inside.

'Perfect,' you murmur and push the cart inside, then close the door behind you. 'Now, if I were to stash something valuable, where would I hide it?'

You leave the cart by the door and start snooping around. Remembering Dominic said the pendant is probably in a drawer next to bed, you head toward it. The room is nothing fancy, same as the bed. There's a cupboard next to it with three drawers. All of which are locked.

'Do I have the key or do I not have the key?' you murmur to yourself, checking the keys. 'Of course, I don't. The fun way, then.'

You take out your tools and start working on the locks on the drawers. Soon you're checking them one by one. No pendant in any of them. You sigh and look around the room, searching for any more furniture with drawers. Your eyes fall on a chest of drawers at the other end of the room.

'Let's try this one,' you say and hurry to the piece furniture. You unlock the drawers with your tools and start checking their contents. In the third one you find a black box that could be used to put a piece of jewellery inside it. You open it… and you find a gorgeous pendant inside.

'Hello, my friend,' you say, grinning. You take the pendant out of the box. You close the box and put it back in the drawer. Then, you quickly lock all the drawers back. You hurry to the cart and stash the pendant among the cleaning supplies. You grab the cart and leave the room. You lock it with stolen keys and walk away. You're almost at the at of the corridor when three men turn to corner.

They're wearing keftas so you know at once they're Grisha. You don't know what made them to return early. You don't wonder about it. You just drop your head and walk past them. None of them pays you any mind. You turn the corner and wait a moment. Then, you look back carefully. Sure enough, the three Grisha enter the room 222. Because life's never easy, is it? And when something can happen, it does.

You grab the cart tightly and walk toward the elevator, praying they won't check the drawer with the box right away. Or the box. You enter the elevator and ride down. You walk past hotel service to the corridor with the back entrance. You leave the cart and drop the keys there, while taking the pendant with you. You find your coat and hurry to the exit, hearing someone's coming. You unlock the door and dash outside.

You don't breathe with relief yet. You're still too close. You tie your coat tightly around yourself and walk away from the hotel. You don't walk fast, so not to draw any attention to yourself. But you're also don't walk too slow, wanting to be as far away from the hotel as fast as possible.

A few minutes later you came across carriage waiting to pick someone up. You walk to the coachman and hand him some coins.

'Where to, miss?' the man asks.

'To the pub "Lady Luck",' you answer.

'Not sure if it's a place for such nice lady,' the man says and shrugs. 'But it's your money.'

You enter the carriage and close the door. A second later you start driving. You reach into your pocked and take out the pendant. You smirk.

'Who said I'm a nice lady?' you ask and hide your loot. You relax and wait to reach your destination. Finally, fate is smiling at you.

It's been a few days since your little theft. You return to your small apartment in the middle of the night. You're in the good mood as everything is going according to your plan. A few more days and you're going to leave this city and start your mission.

You unlock the door and enter, humming a soft melody. You close the door behind you and at once you realise something's wrong. You know it's night and it's supposed to be dark in your apartment, but there's something off about this darkness. It's too… thick. Too dark.

'Did you really think you could steal from me and get away with it?' a voice asks and a figure comes out of the shadow. You stiffen and reach for a knife hidden in your sleeve. The man looks familiar but you can't place where have you seen him.

'I'm afraid you broke into a wrong apartment, sir,' you say. The man glares at you.

'Don't play dumb,' he says. 'We both know you're the one who stole a pendant from me.'

Ah, now it clicks. He was one of the Grisha you passed in the hotel. Still, you're not going down that easily.

'Doesn't ring any bell,' you say, shaking your head. 'Could you leave my apartment, sir?'

'Really?' the man hums and picks up a book from the table. He opens it and points at the library stamp. Ah. To be honest, you forgot about stealing that book.

'Are you really going to tell me you're not a thief?' the man asks. You put your hands behind your back, carefully taking out your knife.

'I'm not a thief,' you deny innocently. 'I'm just really good at acquiring things that aren't mine.'

The man scoffs. He walks closer to you. You stand still, showing him he doesn't scare you.

'You're not as smart as you think,' he says.

'I beg to disagree,' you say. 'Anyway, why do you think I'm the one who stole that pendant of yours? Plenty of thieves in Caryeva.'

'It took some time to find you, I admit,' the man says. 'But when I asked questions, no one would dare to lie to me. Everyone I talked to said you're the only one who would dare to steal from me.'

You blink and stare at him. That's all? You have no idea who that man is. You stole the pendant because it was valuable. Not because you're the only one who'd dare it. He has to try harder than that.

'And…?' you ask. 'Any other leads on me? Because, sorry, sunshine, but I have no idea why stealing from you would be so outrageous.'

'You really have no idea who I am?' the man asks, frowning slightly.

'You'd think the confused look and blank stare would have answered that for you,' you answer. The man stares at you. You stare back. Were it different circumstances, you'd call him handsome. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark beard, dark clothes. It gives him the air of mystery. But he's in your apartment and is not happy you've stolen from him. Oh, well.

'Where is it?' he asks.

'I don't know,' you answer, shrugging. 'I didn't steal it.'

'Very well,' the man says after a moment of silence. 'If you really want to keep insisting.'

Before you can even move, you feel something grabbing your arms and pulling them up, causing you to drop my knife. Yes. Something. You look up and see… shadows? Another one grabs your throat and squeezes it. You look at the man and see his hands close to each other. Ooooh… Now you know who he is.

'I will ask again,' General Kirigan says, slowly walking to you. 'Where is my pendant?'

'Hard to say… when you choke… me…' you manage to say. Instead of letting go, shadow squeezes your throat tighter.

'Will you tell me where you hid it?' the Darkling asks. You stare at him defiantly. Shadow chokes you harder.

'Think if it's really worth your life,' the Black General says. You clench your teeth. Shadow holds your neck even tighter. You start to see spots. You're going to pass out in a minute…

'I'd appreciate it if you let go of my sister, kind sir,' you hear a familiar voice. General whirls around. At once the apartment is flooded with light. You see your darling sister with her always present guard that consists of at least ten muscly men.

'I am not kind,' Kirigan says. 'And if she wants me to let go, she has to tell me where my pendant is.'

'I don't… need your… help…' you choke out, glaring at your twin sister. Elizabeth gives you a dubious look. Then, she turns her eyes to Kirigan.

'Let go of my sister,' she demands. Darkness seems to become even more thicker.

'Don't you know who I am?' the Darkling asks. You can hear anger in his voice.

'Yup. I just don't care,' your sister answers. You'd snort if you could.

'General, there's no need for this hostility,' Elizabeth says. 'I'm sure we can work something out.'

'Oh, really?' Kirigan asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. But your sister smiles in that way you hate. There's that glint in her eyes that she means she knows much more than the person she's talking to.

'Yes,' she answers. 'Because I know why you've arrived to Caryeva. And I may know the solution to your problem.'

The hold on you lessens a little, letting you know General is intrigued. Your sister looks at him meaningly. He sighs but the shadows let go of you, dropping you on the floor. You groan and stand up, sending glares at your sister and the Darkling.

'Now, let's talk like civilised people,' your sister says, sitting herself behind your desk. 'My name is Elizabeth [L/N].'

'Ah, the uncrowned queen of Caryeva,' the Black General says.

'Give her a few more years,' you murmur and cross your arms at your chest. 'And yes, sister, you can sit there, no problem.'

'Thank you, hon,' your sister says, smiling at you. You scoff and stand next to General in front of the desk. Your sister forms her hands in a pyramid. She has now her 'business look' on.

'Now, let's chat,' she says. 'I've heard the rumours about Fjerdans' new invention.'

'The one that allows to neutralise Grisha?' you ask. Your sister and General look at you.

'You know about it?' Elizabeth asks.

'Please,' you say, rolling your eyes. 'I'm one of the first to now about new things. Why does that matter? That thing?'

'It's a threat to all Grisha,' your sister says and turns her gaze to the Darkling. 'And General Kirigan wants to take it from Fjerdans and make sure they will never invent it again.'

'I still fail to see how could you help me with that,' Kirigan says to Elizabeth.

'Me? Oh, no,' your sister says, shaking your head, and smirks at you. 'But my sister can.'

'What?' General asks.

'Huh?' you ask at the same time, surprised. 'No, I can't.'

'You can and you will work with General Kirigan,' your sister says, giving you a hard stare.

'What do you mean "work with him"?' you ask, astonished. 'He tried to kill me!'

'And you stole from me,' General says, glaring at you. 'Where's my pendant?'

'I already sold it,' you answer smugly.

'You…' General growls, taking a step toward you. Your sister clears her throat.

'No killing, please,' she says. 'We can make it beneficial for all of us.'

'How so?' Kirigan asks, crossing his arms.

'My sister is the best thief there is,' Elizabeth says and smirks. 'She did, after all, managed to steal from you.'

You smile smugly. General glares at your sister.

'And in return I'd forget she stole from me?' he scoffs. 'Or is there something else?'

'I want nothing from you,' you snort.

'Yes, you do,' your sister says and gives you a pointed look. 'The invention is in Fjerda after all.'

You shoot your sister a warning look. Your sister ignores you.

'My sister is going to Fjerda anyway,' she says. 'Help her get there and maybe deal with her stuff and she will get the device for you.'

'I will not!' you protest angrily. 'And don't order me around!'

'What business do you have in Fjerda?' the Darkling asks, frowning slightly.

'Her friend was taken by Fjerdans,' Elizabeth answers. 'She's about to be put to trial. And then killed.'

'She's a Grisha?' General asks.

'No,' you deny fiercely. 'She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Fjerdans assumed she's the Grisha that was responsible for an attack of their forces. But it wasn't her. She's human.'

'Are you sure of that?' Kirigan asks, raising his eyebrows. You glare at him.

'Yes,' you say through clenched teeth. 'The Grisha that really attack them was a coward and didn't come forward. But I know who it was. She's innocent. And she's going to die along with other Grisha that were taken with her.'

'That's actually why she stole your pendant,' your sister explains. 'She needs the money to get to Fjerda and get her out. Even though she could just ask me for money.'

'I don't need your charity,' you spat. General looks at you for a minute.

'Very well,' he says, surprising you. 'I accept this.'

'What?' you ask, dumbfounded. Your sister smiles.

'Excellent,' she says. 'I will feel so much better knowing she's not travelling alone. She loves to get into troubles, this one.'

'One more word…' you growl and look with suspicion at the Darkling. 'Why do you agree?'

'I do need someone to steal that invention from Fjerdans,' Kirigan sighs. 'And I don't like leaving Grisha in need. So, this is something I can help you with.'

You fight with yourself. You don't want to work with him. But it would be useful to have him with you to save your friend…

'Fine!' you finally spat and walk to the front door. 'I will do it!'

'I didn't catch your name,' the Black General calls after you. You look over your shoulder.

'I didn't throw it,' you say and leave your apartment. Your sister shakes her head.

'[Y/N],' she says. 'Her name is [Y/N].'

'[Y/N],' General repeats. 'Can't wait to work with her.'

You enter the basement of the building. Only you're allowed to enter here, you bought that right from the landlord. You light up the room and are greeted with a sight of knifes of all kinds.

'You know, normal people don't have a basement full of weapons,' you hear behind you. You sigh internally and turn to face General Kirigan. He's leaning on the doorframe, his legs and arms crossed.

'I'll have you know that every single one of these knives saved my life at least once,' you say.

'What about that gun over there?' Kirigan asks, pointing with his head. You turn and your eyes fall on an old gun.

'Oh, that?' you ask. 'That's just for decoration. But you may be right.'

You walk to a wall and open a secret storage. You take out a simple gun from it and attach it to your hip.

'I may need a gun,' you admit and start picking out knives. 'When are we leaving?'

'Tomorrow would be ideal,' Kirigan answers. 'Will you be ready?'

'I was going to leave tomorrow or soon anyway,' you answer, shrugging.

'Good,' General says and walks toward you, putting his hands behind his back. 'Now, I think we need to establish some rules. Just to make sure we're on the same page.'

'Page?' you scoff. 'We're not even in the same library!'

Kirigan exhales through his nose slowly. You seem to really annoy him.

'Look, we don't have to like each other,' he snaps. 'But we're going to be stuck with each other for the next weeks, so we have to learn to tolerate each other.'

'Don't send your shadows on me and we're going to be fine,' you say, crossing your arms.

'As long as you don't steal from me,' Kirigan says, also crossing his arms.

'Fine,' you say, shrugging.

'Fine,' Kirigan snaps. You glare at each other. After a moment the Darkling runs a hand through his face, sighing.

'I know you don't really want it… but your sister may be right,' he says. 'We can help each other out.'

'I know,' you say. 'It doesn't mean I have to like it.'

You stare at each other for a moment. General walks closer to you. You have to look up to meet his gaze.

'Trust me, I don't like it either,' he says, looking at you with disdain. 'I'm not happy to work with a thief.'

'And yet I'm sure I still have more honour than you,' you say, glaring at him. His lips curl upward in amusement.

'Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, little thief,' he says. In a second the gun is in your hand. You point it at his face. He stares at the barrel of your gun and smiles.

'Do it,' he says. After a tense minute you lower your gun.

'I won't give you the satisfaction,' you say. Kirigan chuckles quietly and walks to the door.

'I expect you at the entrance to the hotel in the morning,' he says. 'I hope you know the way?'

He sends you a smirk over his shoulder. Oh, you want to strangle him so hard!

'I'll be there,' you say flatly. Kirigan nods and leaves the basement. You huff and cross your arms.

'I hate you, Elizabeth,' you murmur. 'How could you get me into this mess?'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47256868/chapters/119072821

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bakerstreethound · 1 year

Text

Read before Requesting - General Guidelines

This is long overdue, but welcome to the alleyway guidelines! First things first, I can never guarantee when a request will be fulfilled or that I can match it to exactly how you’re wanting it as I have to allow my creative liberty to take hold and come in to play. Regardless, these requests are ultimately in place to make my job easier.

Before requesting, please provide the following through my asks. If you request through my messages (DMs), I may not see it. Also please don’t be demanding, us fic writers are only human after all and a greeting and “please” and “thank you” go a long way (: Also, please don’t forget to comment or reblog, it really helps encourage and motivate me to write more, plus I love hearing your thoughts!

IN YOUR REQUEST, please provide the following:

~ the fandom/character ~ genre/mood (ex. fluff, angst, etc.) ~ any tropes (ex. friends to lovers, one bed, etc.)

Note: If requesting an x reader fic, please specify gender if desired. Otherwise fic will be written in 2nd POV (You). I never utilize Y/N in any of my work so 2nd person POV (You) is always implemented.

Who I am currently writing for

Fandoms

BBC Sherlock: (Sherlock Holmes {also the variations of Strawberry Sherlock / Victorian Sherlock})

The Sandman: Morpheus (Dream of the Endless) & The Corinthian

Good Omens: Anthony Crowley (David Tennant)

Star Wars: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian), Boba Fett, and Poe Dameron

Star Trek (aos): Khan Noonien Singh

Stranger Things: Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson

Marvel: The Moon Knight System, Dr. Stephen Strange, and Yelena Belova

The School for Good and Evil (Netflix): Rafal and Rhian Mistral (only at my discretion. I only write them when inspiration strikes).

Shadow & Bone/Six of Crows: General Kirigan (The Darkling/Aleksander), Jesper Fahey, Nikolai Lantsov, Matthias Helvar, (Kaz Brekker? - still uncertain)

What I will write

My fics are reader inserts, where the reader is female, afab, or gender neutral. I write fluff, hurt/comfort, and angst. When I am in the mood I can write smut, but it’s more focuses on the intimacy between the characters and not the explicit act itself (this is what you get from an asexual writer haha. If you need to see examples, you can go through my masterlist)

Off limits, no go, what I absolutely will not write

(TW) non-cub/dub-con, A/B/O, underage sex, incest, abuse/harrasement, eating disorders or where a character contemplates suicide or self-harm. Most of my fics revolve a lot around the reader being romantically involved, so I won’t write parent/child fics.

******

ALSO if I receive a request I feel I am not able to write or that makes me uncomfortable, it is within my right to not write it out. (I don’t mean to come off as rude, but it has to be said, regardless).

Again, I cannot guarantee when your fic request will be written or published. Life tends to happen, and my posting varies by day so I cannot guarantee a publishing date either because of this. Thank you for your understanding!

Special thanks to @frostandflamesfanfic and @starks-hero for whose own request rules I drew inspiration from. xoxo

#bakerstreethound #request rules #ace's request rules #request rules masterlist #rules of the alleyway #ace's alleyway

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jomiddlemarch · 1 year

Note

Holiday prompts: snowfall + darklina. ❤️

“You were right, Sasha,” Alina said softly, trying to match her tone to the gentle drift of the snowflakes still visible through the many-paned windows that made up the entire back wall of their bedchamber in what was still called the General’s retreat, though Aleksander had moved far beyond that position and he refused to sleep without Alina beside him in the wide bed with its walnut headboard most delicately carved with all the flowers found in the valley below. Ivan had scowled so fiercely when he first saw the room that Aleksander had spontaneously offered to have David replace the glass with a material of his own design, diamond hard, clear as crystal, impenetrable. It was still cold to the touch, which Alina found both reassuring and provocative when Aleksander made love to her with the glass against her bare back.

“I’m always right, milaya,” he said, with too much joy in his voice to sound smug. Nevertheless, she could not help rolling her eyes just a little, knowing he would not see it, the smallest secret.

“So you believe,” she said. He shifted slightly, finding some impossible way to bring her closer within his embrace, the sense of his shadows around her holding the dark warmth of her sable cloak. There was no name for his scent, but it made her feel the same way the snow did, safe and contented, with a tremulous sense of loveliness inviolate within her.

“I do not believe, I know. Tell me how, though—how was I right this time?”

Alina looked down from the view of the snow falling in the dusk, the peaks of the mountains growing dim, and let her eyes rest on Aleksander’s hands on her wrists. He was so finely made it took the most gifted seamstress in Os Alta to make clothes that did not seem crude and coarse in contrast to his skin, the perfect balance of his sinew and bone, the elegant and vulnerable line of his throat. The boot-maker had an easier time though the man swore there was no noble in Ravka who could match Lord Kirigan’s distinction. Tonight, she and Aleksander lay in their nightclothes, Alina in a shift of unadorned Zemla flax woven to the same sheen as silk, without silk’s coolness, and Aleksander in a pair of the loose trousers favored by the nomads of the fells, his meryno banyan draped across a chair in the corner of the room. If she turned her head, she’d feel his skin against her cheek and then his lips at her temple, the hands at her wrists moving swiftly to her waist, her hip, the curve of her thigh pressed against his. She kept still, wanting the anticipation before the satisfaction, waiting for the night to finally obscure the snow.

“You said we should spend the afternoon watching the snow fall. That it would be better than any other occupation I could imagine, to be quiet together,” Alina answered. “You said I wouldn’t regret staying inside, being idle.”

“You don’t regret it then, umnaya?” he asked. When they were alone, he hardly ever addressed her without an endearment, as if he must make sure she knew how cherished she was with every phrase, every breath. She turned her hand so that she could slide her palm against his, let him feel the light within her beckon his shadow, a subtle and ardent embrace only two Summoners could share, as intimate as climax, his name on her lips when she had no voice left to cry out.

“I said you were right, didn’t I?”

“I needed to hear you say it,” he said. “I knew it, but I needed to hear your voice, to feel you as you spoke—”

“Why, Sasha?”

“So I could believe,” he said, as simply as the night fell suddenly, the skies clearing. The moonlight was reflected in the snow, the world without silvery. When she turned to look at his face, Alina knew she would see the moonlight in his dark eyes.

#darklina #prompt fill #snowfall #romance #canon au #holiday #merry christmas eve #a little naughty #alina/aleksander #never enough endearments #vesperass-anuna

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prismatica-the-strange · 6 months

Text

I'll Forgive Your Sins | What You Knew Was Inside Me

Warnings: 18+

Krynn can't seem to pay attention or take her session with General Kirigan seriously

Word Count: 935

Song: Warrior by Beth Crowley | Picrew Link | Dividers by @saradika

He should have known this was a bad idea.

But she seemed so forlorn to be stuck inside as she gazed out the window at the snow-covered courtyard. He thought indulging her wistful look would surely help her concentrate.

So he ordered the garden clear and told her to meet him there.

He'd quickly pulled on a pair of gloves and his warm cloak, but when he came out he found her knelt in the snow in front of a frozen rose bush, no gloves, no extra layers, just her kefta. At least it had been buttoned for the first time since she arrived, but that was about it.

The closer he got the better he could hear that she was muttering to the plants in a tongue he was yet to understand.

He sighs fifteen minutes later, snapping his fingers in front of her, "The longer you take to listen, the longer we'll be out here."

"Sorry," She chuckles, "What did you ask?"

"I said, What- Krynn!"

She freezes mid-step as she begins to wander.

She looks at him with a mix of amusement and annoyance, "How do you expect me to stay still on such a perfect day?"

"The same way I expect you to on every other day, now..."

"Now I want you to grow a..." His eyes catch her hand twist as small green vines wrap around her fingers. He reaches around her and grasps her wrist, huffing, "Focus."

"Right."

"Wrap the bench in Ironwood roots."

He tries to not laugh at the face she pulls, knowing she finds that particular species difficult.

His eyebrows furrow when tendrils of reddy wood wrap around the stone bench, "I said Ironwood."

"Ironwood is boring."

"It was what you were told to grow," He argues.

"I felt inspired."

"Krynn."

"I'm out here, surrounded by my namesake, and you expect me to focus on things like Ironwood?"

"Namesake?"

She looks at him in wild disbelief, "Well, what else were my parents going to name me for but the snow? Look at me, Virre'tcha."

"So what does that mean?" He asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"What you just said. Krynn means Snow, what does Viretchya mean?"

She snorts at his very Ravken pronunciation and shakes her head, "It doesn't matter. And no, krynn does not mean snow."

"But you just said-"

"Now who isn't focusing?" She teases.

There's an amused glint in his glare and his look urges her to explain.

"Krynn isn't my full name," She smiles playfully, "It's just easier for clumsy, Ravken tongues to pronounce."

"And," He motions at her target. She waves her hand and the roots around the bench disintegrate, before she squares her feet, "What, exactly, is your full name?"

Her hands twist and make a raising motion, Ironwood roots rising from the snow, weaving around the bench.

"Krynnl'ntfryce," She says quickly, "Daughter of Falros."

He tries his best to repeat the word, not quite getting it and she laughs with a small nod.

"Roughly translated, it means Fallen Snow."

"And more literally?" He asks, peering down at her

She glances above them, biting back a smirk.

"It's more... like a feeling."

She wrings her hands together before flexing her fingers. There's a faint creak in the branches of the tree next to them, but before he can look up, a flurry of snowflakes come crashing down on and around them, and Krynn breaks out in giggles.

He lets out a startled chuckle when he realizes what she did, too distracted by the melodious sound of her mother tongue when she laughs something at him.

They've been working together for four months as he studies her gift and he's heard her curse him in it, but this... this is warm and endearing, and he'd never admit it, but his heart thrums at the sound.

"And with that, we're done for the day."

"Oh," She pouts teasingly, hand swiping the snow settled on the fur of his cloak, "Have you no sense of humor, General?"

"I have no time for childish pranks," He says, unable to hide the small smile forcing its way to his face.

"No, of course not," She nods, still grinning.

"I have much more pressing matters."

"I understand, not everyone is built for the cold."

"Minx," He regards her as she saunters by.

"You wouldn't be laughing if you didn't somewhat enjoy my company," She calls over her shoulder.

He smiles to himself, agreeing with her words, he must.

"Fuck!" She curses in her mother tongue, her foot coming out from under her when she slips on a snow-covered cobblestone. She lands hard and he's quick to get to her side.

"Are you alright?"

Much to his surprise, she bursts out laughing and he worries she hit her head.

"Do you need a healer?"

"I'm fine, Virre'tcha," She assures him, sitting up in the snow beside him, his large hand on the small of her back, "My feathers are ruffled, but I'm alright."

"We should get you inside," He says, his left hand taking hers. His right stays firm on her back as he helps her to her feet. He looks down and snowdrops have sprouted along the outline of her imprint where she landed.

He absent-mindedly brushes the snow from the back of her kefta as he leads her inside.

"Wait," She murmurs, turning just enough to disperse the ironwood roots. She groans when they don't decompose, "Fucking Ironwood."

She motions with her hands and stomps with one foot, and the roots crack at their base before fading into dirt. She rolls her eyes with a defeated sigh, "Close enough."

#Short and sweet #a tester #I'll forgive Your Sins #The Darkling #Shadow and Bone #prisma self ships #prisma writes #self ship story #self ship writing #Aleksander Morozova

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rist-ix · 1 year

Text

S&B s2

I’m feeling unhappy with s2, and im not even completely sure why, so im gonna ramble my way through my thoughts and hope clarity finds me along the way. I might change my mind later and im not gonna be accurate about anything. I just feel weirdly dissatisfied with how the handled Alina and Aleksander especially, even though there’s arguably more hope for Darklina endgame than ever before??? It’s not gonna happen, realistically, but the potential is there.

Spoilers under the cut.

This season somehow felt flatter and more juvenile despite the higher stakes. The Darkling was portrayed almost cartoonishly evil, and while I didn’t expect Book!Darkling’s cunning from him, he was also a little bit too easily fooled for THE main antagonist. Likewise, his death felt anticlimactic and far too sudden. His last moments are spent pleading with and trying to prepare Alina for all that he fears is coming for her, and there’s no emotional reaction from anyone. His followers aren’t large numbers of frightened Grisha, desperately latching on to the stability and safety he offers, but a handful of violent, power-hungry fanatics who are all slaughtered in the end like the soulless villains the plot needs them to be. What was even the point if they were just gonna tell another generic good vs evil story? The thing that made the books stand out was that the heroine and the villain were polar opposites, mortal enemies, but that they were the only ones who truly understood what the other was going through. Who could see each other with a clarity no others could. The core of the series was that neither of them could budge in their goals and ideals, that they defined them, but that they still knew each other so intimately and could not stay apart. Even without the sexual/romantic angle, that premise was fascinating. Alina still killed her villain because it had to be done, but she mourned him, too. The show set this all up wonderfully, and then dropped it like a hot potato and never followed through. It feels like in order to make Alina into the Marketable Girlboss archetype all women with power must fall into, they had to rid her of all emotions except Power of Love!!1!, righteous outrage >:( and humble saintly despair. What made Alina so appealing to me was the selfishness she struggled with. The wishes and desires for herself she felt that she couldn’t share with anyone. And a big part of that was the tether, and the temptation that came with it. The whole PURPOSE of it was to constantly offer her an easier way, an alternative, and that made her attempts to find her own path even worth anything. Book!Alina was in an incredibly difficult position. She faced in-fighting, opposition at every corner, distrust from the royal family and alienation from the army she was leading — and she was leading them. And the Darkling, who had lived all this first hand and sympathised and understood it all PERFECTLY, was constantly there with her offering her an easy way out. Her refusal is so powerful because she wants to accept, wants to lay down some of that weight, but knows others would pay the price and therefore cannot. Will not. Show!Alina severely lacks that complexity. The one moment she approaches Aleksander at all is pure manipulation, trying to get close enough to burn his hand out. And it’s probably meant to make her look cunning, and making choices that are morally grey, but instead it just makes the Darkling look dumb. It’s such a generic “You were right all along and I’m suddenly completely on your side” exchange. The tether scenes in general, which was supposed to be their common ground where neither can harm the other, are so incredibly one sided. Kirigan is always pleading with her, and Alina is always rejecting and condescending him, so why even have it??? Why introduce this mechanic if not to show humanity and nuance??? In Alina especially, Kirigan is actually doing fine in that regard for once. Show!Alina feels to me like what the Apparat wanted Book!Alina to be: a perfectly desire-less Saint whose only wish is to eradicate Heretics and marry her good orphan soldier friend. Her becoming General falls similarly flat. She announces herself leader of the second army, but immediately afterwards the old power structures crumble anyway and everyone is only on the run afterwards. She does not face any of the uglier sides of leadership, the diplomacy and everyday work necessary to protect the Grisha under her command, and so her “My beloved Second Army” speech in ep 7 feels completely undeserved. Girl, you’ve been here for like half a week. All four people in the room are on first name basis with you. In interviews its stated she would have to make difficult choices but I don’t see any!!! I don’t even see her leading!!! Her one struggle is that she might have to kill Mal, and that’s a personal conflict, not one that comes from her position as General of the Second Army, or even Saint or Future Queen. She’s not supervising the training of young grisha, or seeing how they are treated by nobles and first army, because both die like five minutes later. She’s not forced to deal with the King who looks down on her and her people, who raped her friend since childhood. There is no real struggle other than “How do we kill Kirigan”. Instead, Alina breezes through all of this on a plot-armoured airship of McMuffin hunts and self-righteousness. Her story, and by extension her character, feels incredibly hollow after her captivating arc of self-discovery last season. She kills her narrative foil and doesn’t feel anything, she happily makes plans as his body lies awkwardly in the shot. Where are the fucking EMOTIONs, or my god. Season 2 is okay I guess, definitely has its moments. But still, it’s such a downgrade. The ending is just that everything is fixed now because the new king is nice, actually :). There’s a teeny tiny hint that all those complicated things can still show up in her future, now that Alina doesn’t have the shield of a pretty, saintly power, but instead Aleksander’s reviled shadows. But unless they revive him to complete the narrative foil symbolism, I doubt it’s gonna be worth anything.

Other minor nitpicks:

Sea whip is tiny. Fetter design looks cool tho

Marie is never mentioned again, Nadja is never shown mourning and so Alina never even learns what happened to her

In order to keep everything completely black and white, 100% two-dimensional, Fedyor is completely written out of s2. He never appears again, never learns what happened to Ivan. A wonderful opportunity for nuance, lost

The amount of „epic battles“ this season that are just Grisha yelling and running at each other without summoning is a little ridiculous

in ep 7 where everyone was being eaten by volcra for a solid minute or so. and alina only decided to do shit once it was Mal. What was the script there, why was there so much dead space

That sword and everything about it. Hated it. Sankta Neyer and her thief husband were great, but that plot wasted so much time that could have been put into the main conflict.

The amount of „epic battles“ this season that are just Grisha yelling and running at each other is a little ridiculous. Either they are straight up not using their powers, or doing so at a light jog while rhythmically grunting.

Baghra is so down with murdering her child. No hesitation or conflict. They stripped her of her the one thing that made her interesting, which was rejecting her son but still never helping to move against him, because she does still selfishly love him.

Kirigan. Stop keeping your prisoners in the place all your important plans happen. That is so stupid.

Love how they insisted all Alina needs for the cut is practice and then she never practiced ever haha. And I don’t mean this in the Star Wars “Why can the heroine do anything if she didn’t go through gruelling training montages first?” way, I mean why did they specifically emphasise practice as the way to success if it would play no role whatsoever, not even the ATTEMPT at practice. The only experiment she did was way before that conversation, mind you.

“The world doesn't need a Saint to protect it. It needs a monster. And while I remain... Let me be your monster. […] There is no light without darkness. Without me, you have no counter, no balance. Let me carry the hatred of this world.” They really have this, followed up by him defending her against his monsters (“NO! Leave her alone!”) and kill him without a single tear????????? Im repeating myself but WHY

Alina’s cut looked beautiful. I wish she’d used it more often.

the overabundance of dresses and gloves and severe lack of kefta’s was visually unsettling

if nikolai was behind dreesen all along that means he’s the one responsible for Alexei getting interrogated and shot. That, much like Baghra’s murder attempt at Mal and Marie’s sacrifice, is never brought up again

On that note, Nikolai had that much money lying around to pay the crows???? Guess they dropped the “coffers are running dry” plotline too

“I wouldnt be here if it werent for my friends” youve barely talked all season. I miss the Zoya who questioned her for 2 books before somewhat warming up.

Fuck that sword, once again. Felt like runtime padding.

#darklina #s&b season 2 #shadow and bone spoilers #i was so looking forward to alina i feel so robbed #i dont wanna talk it down for ppl who enjoyed it #I just wanna know if anybody feels the same #because i dont really know if im making a big deal out of nothing while the wound is fresh

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lavendarneverlands · 1 year

Text

Shadow and Bone Season 2: Genya looks upset — 2023 FIRST LOOK

With Kirigan emerging from The Fold looking stronger and more homicidal than ever, and Alina bracing for the fight of her life, danger looms for Shadow and Bone’s embattled heroes in Season 2.

It’s not surprising, then, that Genya looks so upset in TVLine’s exclusive first look at the fan-favorite tailor in the upcoming season. Still, we have plenty questions about the above photo: Why is the Queen looking at her like that? And what are they discussing?

Season 2 — premiering Thursday, March 16 on Netflix — finds Alina on the run and determined to bring down the Shadow Fold and save Ravka from ruin. That might be easier said than done with General Kirigan returning to finish what he started.

With a terrifying new army of “seemingly indestructible shadow monsters and fearsome new Grisha recruits, Kirigan is more dangerous than ever,” according to the official synopsis. “To stand a fighting chance against him, Alina and Mal rally their own powerful new allies and begin a continent-spanning journey to find two mythical creatures that will amplify her powers.”

Meanwhile, in Ketterdam, the Crows must “forge new alliances as they contend with old rivals and even older grudges that threaten not only their place in the Barrel, but their very lives. When a chance at a deadly heist comes their way, the Crows will once again find themselves on a collision course with the legendary Sun Summoner.”

———————————————————————

Thoughts:

GRISHAVERSE THERE IS ANOTHER SNEAK PEEK

… so I’ve got a lot to say and a lot I’m thinking and feeling but mainly this:

Genya’s face is half shown, it looks like her lip is split, and I have a feeling the other side of it is mauled from the nichoveya (missing eye and all). I think this is the scene from Ruin and Rising.

By set; they appear to be in a castle, or underground, the lighting implies Night. Could be the base, maybe castle, maybe pre Siege background or even the Tailors storyline. But I’m betting this is R&R.

The costuming color shift says a lot especially in tone; the queen is still royal but she doesn’t look as regal. She looks a bit disheveled and more than from missing a day with her tailor. She’s sad, and shocked, and defiant, and angry. She looks like someone looking down upon another, from a place she doesn’t even hold.

Genya looks terrified, and sad, and angry, she looks like the kind of heartbreak that brings wildness that breeds impulsive truth because there’s nothing to loose. She looks like there’s nothing holding her back whether this is a pleading beg and last shot or belligerent vindication. I think this is I am ruination. And we see the black cloak, no longer white no longer royals servant, no longer her own. Perhaps the darklings siege but it looks to weathered. And by shape alone the shown of old (either a pack or both) of old keftas and gathered scraps, on the runC or hidden, or desperate. And possibly more burdened so the shape would make Ruin make even more sense.

Aesthetics on point.

Daisy Head is amazing. I’m already heartbroken and worried and can’t wait to see our girl…

whoever said the line via Darkling about “are you willing to sacrifice that which is most precious to you” being to Genya NOT Alina has some amazing ideas and I’m thinking the same. Plus Daisy Head got bumped up to main so it would make sense. And the show gives us the perk of multiple view points so why not hers, she deserves to tell her story. And I can’t wait to hear it though-I’m sure it’ll give me all the feels, heartbreaks & healings. Just that’s my girl!!! We love her! We Stan!

And I’m intrigued to see there take on it, and any possible changes or spins.

And just the class they handle tragedy with, it helps and doesn’t hurt those suffering. And I really love the inclusion in that that this show has.

… and yeah - this looks amazing. And I legit didn’t recognize the show for a sec lol (I thought it was one of the popular new ones right now by first glance lol) perhaps I’m still thinking this is fake, I must be dreaming!!!

Can’t wait for March!!! And now I’m gonna go over analyze and cry and squeal over this!!!

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amiramorozova · 2 years

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Secret Penpal within the little palace pt. 2 -First Letters-

Amira's pov:

I sat around with my friends trying to figure out what to write since my person was the General. I didn't know what the A stood for but since the rules were the first initial I just had to keep going. Nadia and Marie were already finishing their letters and I hadn't even started. I saw them smile at each other but when they looked at me I looked down feeling embarrassed.

"Amira, what's wrong?" Nadia asked as I rubbed the back of my neck. "I don't..know what to write.." I admitted

Marie and Nadia seemed to sympathize with me but I shrugged, but then Fedyor walked over handing me a paper. I was surprised. "Your first letter." Fedyor said as I accepted it and took it from him but he could see mine was blank and he just walked away. Marie and Nadia got exicted as they move and sat on each side of me. "Well open it." Nadia said as I took a deep breath and opened it.

Hello Summoner,

Your symbols are intriguing, but I did check my list and you are not listed as a Sun Summoner as far as I know. While I may not know who you are right now, I can only assume you are one of our Tidemakers. I question what it may be like for someone to have a dual nature and why you choose to hide who you are? You must feel isolated from the others of 2nd army with having to conceal yourself. Please indulge in what you do to maintain such a silence to your secret.

Are you intentionally wanting to keep yourself unknown for the fear of the pressure that would fall on you? I know that with the fold it must been an easier way to conceal yourself from others knowing the truth. A burden you now have put yourself in with people never knowing who you truly are.

Know if you decide to come forward with the truth to the others, you will have an ally.

-General Kirigan

I read over it a few times seeing his letter was sincere, but I'd already cracked that door I was hiding behind and there was no going back. I couldn't close it again..not like this with writing letters to participate in this exchange. It made me nervous and also worried that he would figure it out within a just three letters.

"He's curious about you...you wrote your true nature on your card." Nadia said as I just nod. I knew I owed him a reply. Marie though couldn't shake an opportunity to tease me "Aw, what if you and the General end up together? That's happened during this thing...every year one or three groups of two end up together..or end up sleeping together." Marie said as I just blushed at the thought now. I shook it off after a few minutes before deciding to write my letter back.

General,

You're right, I am not listed as a Sun Summoner but then I have lived with this burden my whole life. Ravka needs a true Sun Summoner who is not a mixed breed Grisha so I choose to hide within a group of summoners I am comfortable with. Isolation is something I did once feel, but I have friends who accept me so it's not that lonely of a life.

I never intentionally kept anything from anyone but it is my life to choose what I felt was best for myself. A child could not live with such a burden on their shoulders and yet I've known since I first arrived that I would. I had no choice but to choose silence for my own gain of getting stronger. I train hard without someone looking at me and expecting me to push myself until I nearly die.

I don't expect you to understand what it is like for someone like myself to look in a mirror and know I'm playing a part. I remind myself everyday that I'm only showing half of who I am and I've accepted that. But I suppose that I'm losing my need to remain silent...I wanted to share with someone else who I am.

I wonder, you skip out every year of this exchanging letters so why this year? Surely you had other options or did you have a feeling something was going to happen? I'm quite curious and wish to know.

-A

Marie and Nadia noticed when I was done, I smiled as they looked over my letter and laughed a bit. "You'll keep the mystery going for awhile." Nadia said as I laughed before folding it and then Marie took them handing them Fedyor who went to deliver them. I merely just tried to relax.

Aleksander's Pov:

I wondered if I inquired too much with this summoner as I looked over the list again of the ones with the letter A. I knew I couldn't narrow it down by the rules but it still bothered me that a Sun Summoner could slip through my fingers. Still when Fedyor brought a letter, I was actually surprise she wrote so fast as I'd expected she wouldn't have.

"Your letter sir." Fedyor said as I took it and then looked over it. She was bold that was clear by her handwriting but she was signing it with A. As I read her letter back though I could tell she did not feel she was worthy of being Ravka's savior. That had to change now that I knew a Sun Summoner was there within the little palace. She had friends, that was a clue to who she was but did not name who.

The part she said about not expecting him to understand what it was like to play part of herself. He knew all took well with the fact that he was the Black Heretic but played as he was a descendant of the black heretic.

It does not matter if you are a mixed breed Grisha what you can do is amazing. Summon the light, the light is hope for everyone but you also have Tidemaker. No one could ever compare, not even a normal Sun Summoner. The idea you want summoners around to accept you must mean you have shared your secret of being a Two class summoner with them.

Everyone has a choice on what they do with their small science. even you who has gained not one but two. It is great to hear that you have trained with both, the saints must be looking down upon you if you made it this far without being detected by any of those who haven't know.

You have taken a risk of revealing yourself to another, but did you expect your card would end up in my hand? I am looking forward to the day I get to put your Grisha symbols to your face and know the person who is. Perhaps with time you will be ready to embrace your true nature of being both.

Things have been busy but Fedyor asks every year and every year I told him no. Perhaps the saints have given me the feeling of something was different this year. Now that I've answered your questions. Perhaps you will answer mine since I am sure you are far from wanting others to know.

Are your parents Grisha? Sometimes Small science can be inherited directly from a parent. Has Baghra known about you all this time and kept you concealed? Do you long for the day you can walk amongst your peers and be accepted for who you truly are?

-General Kirigan

TagList: @lifeisingrey, @houseoftoomanyfandoms, @mizelophsun11

#Secret PenPal within the little palace #darkling x reader #Team Darkling #darkling x oc #the darkling #darkling #penpal #Grishaverse #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone #dual summoner #Amira Silina #aleksander morovoza #general kirigan #ben barnes #sunsummoner #shadow summoner #tidemaker

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libraryofloveletters · 2 years

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Hi hi! I was just wondering if you could please give me some advice on writing if you didn’t mind?

One of my major challenges when writing is dialogue. Description and painting a scene comes easy to me, but I just have such a hard time coming up with dialogue that’s natural, flows, and actually interesting to readers. I guess I struggle with this because I’m a shy person and my anxiety makes socializing in real life fairly difficult for me. But still, I really want to improve and make sure the dialogue in my stories aren’t cringy because sadly this struggle is what always ends up deterring me from continuing with a work in progress or writing in general.

I don’t mean to bother you with this and I hope it’s okay that I’ve come to you about this. I just really love and admire the way you write, especially the dialogue. It always so fun and feels genuinely real — like an actual conversation is taking place. You’re one of my biggest inspirations and a major reason behind why I started writing again after stopping years ago. So any word of advice you can offer would truly be appreciated and mean the absolute world to me. Thank you so much and I hope you’re having a wonderful week 💞

hi baby! you’re more than welcome here anytime!! you’re so sweet, you're literally making me tear up right now. 🥺 to be someone’s biggest inspiration is such a pinch me moment lmao like I came on here to write for fun and to think that someone likes my writing so much, it’s crazy to me lmao

as for the dialogue part, I do get what you mean. When I first started writing, it was one of the hardest parts for me. It took me a while to get confidence enough to be like okay yeah I like the way I wrote this.

If the dialogue is the character/person and not the reader, I find watching episodes/movies/interviews of theirs to better grasp how they speak is a good way to make the dialogue sound real. After watching a few, you’re usually able to have an idea of how they’d say something.

This next part might sound so stupid but I promise it works; if they have an accent, try and speak with that accent in your head or outloud (whichever works better for you) and it helps with the formation of the sentences.

For example, if I’m writing for general kirigan, I know he has a British accent so speaking with the accent helps me figure out how he’d say something. if I would say “let’s go see what they’re doing”, he might say “shall we to find out what they’re doing/up to?” small changes in the wording helps too!!

If it’s for reader, just talk out loud. Imagine the person is in front of you and say what you want to say + their part. This usually helps me figure out if it makes sense or not. If I have a general idea of what I want to say, I’ll say it out loud and then it makes it easier for me to figure out what's next because it feels like an actual conversation.

Plus imagine yourself as reader, makes it so much easier to write - at least to me. I know what I would say in certain situations so I usually put that in or if I find my own idea to abrupt, I'll reword it or something like that.

If you wanna chat, bounce ideas or anything else, shoot me an ask or message me!! hope this helped!! have a good week!! 💕

#nice anon!!

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labyrinth-runner · 3 years

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“I might already be on me knees, but I’m still gonna make you say please.” Darkling x Fem!Reader

Title: Worth the Wait

Summary: Reader is insecure of their powers and their ability to be the sun summoner. General Kirigan assures them that they have what it takes.

Word Count: 2600

Warnings: It's sinful sunday folks. This is literally going to turn into smut. Unprotected smut. Marking.

You'd been at the Little Palace for almost a month and by now you felt like you should have been making progress. They called you a Saint, and prayed to you so that you would be their deliverance, but who would deliver you? Who would save you? The weight of your responsibilities was almost debilitating on your shoulders. Most of the Grisha looked at you like you were so much better than them, like they could only dream of being you.

If only they knew the truth. You were a sham. You could barely manage to bring forth your power on the good days. Your arm had felt the wrath of Baghra's rage more than once this week.

Your power on your own was nothing like when Aleksander touched you. When his hand closed around your wrist, it was like your power would do anything for him. It bent to his will, and you were okay with that. The warm sureness washed over you and made you feel for one small moment that you might actually belong here. With the Grisha. With him.

The way he looked at you made you feel like you were more than you actually are. He made you want to live up to that look.

After another failed day of practice, you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned in your comfortable bed, unable to relax. Eventually, you decided to get out of bed.

Your feet took you down to the main hall downstairs. The room was empty. Fires crackled in the hearths as their embers cooled from neglect. Your hand dragged along the tables, settling on the Darkling's seat. He had never used it in your time at the Palace, yet the Grisha fought over where they sat in relation to this chair.

There was nothing special about the chair. Its dark wood was smooth under your fingers. Casting a glance around, you pulled it out and sat, looking out over the empty chairs around you.

"It suits you," a voice said from behind you.

You jumped up, turning to see the silhouette of the General leaning against the open door to the war room. "I-I'm sorry, General."

"For what?" he asked, "For taking your rightful place? You should be sitting there, anyway. Not with the other Etherealki. You're not like them, Starling."

You blushed, looking down. "I know I'm not like them. They belong here. I don't."

"Come," he murmured, pushing the door wider for you to enter. "Let me set your mind at ease."

You passed by with bated breath, smelling the familiar scent of ash and cedar wash over you. Your eyes fell on the map resting on the table. The armies of Ravka were stretched thin, with enemies surrounding from all sides as well as from within. The door closed with a thud.

"Do you know why our enemies wish you dead?" he asked cooly.

"Because I am Grisha and Fjerdans hate our kind?" you replied.

His lips turned up slightly, "A good guess, but no. With your power, you can destroy the fold and reunite Ravka. A united country is stronger. We would loose less men, have more area to farm, and would have a better supply route. With you gone, we remain divided, an easy target for those who would wish Ravka harm."

You sighed, shoulders bowing forward. "I'm not capable of that."

"Not yet," he replied in your ear. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, "But you will be."

"How can you be so sure?" you asked, stepping forward out of his reach. Nervously, you rubbed your arms as you looked over the map.

"For a sun summoner, you surround yourself with darkness," he commented. A chill went through you as one by one the lights were consumed by pitch black night. "If you surround yourself with darkness, it's no wonder you can't find the light."

Your hair stood on end as you bumped into the table. Pieces on the war map toppled over. "If you're testing me, it won't work. There's no light here."

"There's no light in the fold, either," he countered.

"I'm not strong enough."

"Yes, you are." His voice was all around you, like the darkness. "You're just looking in the wrong places for the light."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a sun summoner. Your power comes from within. You need to stop looking outward for the power, the validation. The only person who can unlock your true potential is you."

"That's not true! When you touch me I-"

"When I touch you, I amplify what's already there. I make it easier for you to find it within you, but it's always been there, Starling."

You swallowed. The darkness was oppressive. Your voice was softer, less sure. "I can't."

"You can," he murmured. "All of those people believe in you. Why can't you believe in yourself?"

"Because they don't know me!"

"But they do. You are their Saint! The world has known you before you knew the world!"

"I'm no Saint. I'm just... I'm just me," you replied, frustrated.

"And what are you?"

"I..." Your mind was swimming. You used to say a member of the army. You used to say you were an orphan, someone without a place to belong. Then, after the incident in the fold, you were welcomed here. You wanted so badly to belong here. The Little Palace was everything you dreamed of. When you walked into a room, you were noticed. When you stood next to General Kirigan, you felt like an equal. You were no longer a nobody. You were a somebody. In the darkness, you reached for his cheek, and with precision you found it.

"I am Grisha" you replied, dragging your thumb across his cheek. Warmth surged through you as your power snaked it's way up to the surface. Your blood rushed in your veins. Every fibre of your being felt alive. You pushed away the darkness, surrounding you and Aleksander in a halo of light.

You pulled away from him and the room dimmed back to normal. His dark eyes focused on you, seeing you as he always had. His gaze was intense as you slowly backed away, your backside nudging the table.

"You're not just Grisha," he murmured stepping into your space. His hand reached up, his ring lightly grazing your cheek as he pushed a strand of hair out of your face. Your eyes fell from his to his lips. The air between you was charged. "You are mine, Starling."

His lips crashed against yours, his stubble tickling your skin. Your hands sunk into his raven hair to pull him closer to you. His large hands slid up your thighs, pushing your robe further up as they hooked behind your knees to lift you onto the table. Your back knocked over multiple little pieces, causing you to chuckle as his lips made their way down your neck to your clavicle. His thumbs drew lazy circles on the inside of your thighs as his lips trailed lower. Landing on his knees in front of you, his lips sucked marks up the soft flesh of your legs, inching the fabric further up.

"Are you scared?" he murmured, looking up from between your legs.

"Of you?" you asked, smoothing a lock of his hair out of his eyes. You thought back to all the moments between you, the pull, the charge, the familiarity of him. There was a crackle between your skin as your atoms grew closer, wanting to bond. You knew it now, you were two halves of the same whole. He was darkness, you were light. You could not exist without each other. Just as you could not know light without dark, you hadn't known yourself until you knew him.

"Starling?" he asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

"No," you admitted. "I'm not."

"Well, Starling, what do you want?" Aleksander asked, his fingers slipping up to hook around the band of your underwear, tugging down gently.

"You," you groaned, your head falling back to look at the ceiling as the cold air hit your skin.

“I might already be on me knees, but I’m still going to make you say please," he smirked, nipping your thigh.

"Please, Aleksander," you breathed, subconsciously opening your legs wider for him. "I want you."

The smug grin that you got in response made you bite your lip. His eyes seemed to get impossibly darker with desire as his hand slid up your chest to push you flat back against the table top. His other hand tugged on the bow keeping your robe closed, letting it fall open. He stood between your legs, taking in how you looked spread out over Ravka. All of it would be his from this moment forth: Ravka and you. The world was at his fingertips.

The anticipation was killing you as he gently dragged his fingertips down the valley of your chest before settling on your hips.

You had to wonder what he thought when he looked at you. Was this love? Or was it simply lust? When two beings such as yourselves existed, was there any other course to take besides falling for each other? When you were the only two beings who could potentially live forever, why would you fall for those who could die when like should end up with like?

"I've waited so long for you," he whispered.

"Then why wait any longer?" you asked breathlessly, propping up on your elbows. You had never felt more bare; more seen.

He tapped his fingers in a cadence on your thigh as one would impatiently tap a table. "You make a good point, Starling."

Reaching up, you grabbed ahold of the lapels of his coat, pulling him down to you. He rested his forehead against yours as your hands smoothed up his chest and over his shoulders to push the fabric off his body. Then, your sure fingers worked his buttons over with determination.

He grabbed your hands, bringing them up to kiss your wrists. The Darkling took over from where you left off, shedding his own shirt and pants until he matched you.

Hooking your heels around his abdomen, you pulled him closer. His hard length bumped against your slick. His eyes closed at the feeling.

Suddenly, it was if something had come over him. One hand gripped your hip as the other cupped the back of your head somewhat roughly to pull you into a kiss.

This kiss was different.

It was rough, passionate, but it wasn't all sunshine and roses. Part of it was frustration. Anger. Disgust at himself for not being able to be the cool, controlled Darkling he was known to be. He blamed you. He blamed himself for becoming undone by you.

You kissed him back with the same ferocity, but opposing emotions. Your kiss was a resignation, an acceptance that this was how the world should be. Your kiss was relief. Your kiss was love and admiration. Your fingers tugged at his hair, making him open his mouth to fight your tongue for dominance. It was a long battle, but you won. You twirled your tongue around his, soothing him. Your breaths mingled as one, a balance. Your breaths were tantric as he pulled your body flush against his.

Unexpectedly, he lifted you, carrying you towards his bedroom.

"What's wrong with where we were?" you asked softly as he placed you on his bed. It was softer than yours.

"I don't want to think of the war while I make love to you," he sighed in your ear. He pulled back to kiss you softly. "I just want it to be you and me. Here. Now."

Lining himself up with your entrance, he took a deep breath. He kissed you again as he entered. He wasn't forceful, but it was still an adjustment. He swallowed your noises of discomfort with his mouth, waiting for you to become accustomed to the feel of him. When you nodded, he started to move.

He started slow, rocking back and forth into you, kissing you as he did. His hand dipped down to push your knee towards your chest to increase the angle. He hit somewhere deep inside you, causing you to gasp. The gasp quickly turned into a moan as he hit the spot again and again. His pace quickened in speed and increased in roughness, but you liked it. Your body had taken worse beatings that left you feeling less pleasure than this before.

Your fingernails dug into his shoulder, looking to ground yourself. Deep within you, your power was surging, giving you energy that you spent on the Darkling. You matched his thrusts.

"Saints," he gasped.

You grabbed his chin, bringing his face back to look at yours. "I am yours. Take me as you want me."

His gaze was unfocused, seeing through you, but he nodded. His hips snapped into yours at a pace that shook the bed. Your hand gripped his hair tightly as he bit your neck, sucking a mark that you knew would be visible.

It was almost on the precipice of being more pain than pleasure. Your body was incredibly hot. A slight sheen of sweat glistened on your skin as you gasped for air from the exertion of it all. Every muscle in your body was pulled taut, like a slingshot ready to fire.

"Let go," he instructed in your ear.

You screamed his name. Your toes curled as a blinding light filled your vision and you saw stars. You saw the light within you, soaring up towards the heat of your inner sun until you could almost touch it.

And then you were falling. Crashing into a pool of cool darkness. The cold washed over your skin and you realized it was Aleksander's release. The darkness quenching the heat of the sun.

He slowed his pace, fucking you both through your orgasm until life came back into focus for both of you. You blinked through your daze until your vision cleared and you were back in the arms of the Darkling, resting on his bed.

The Darkling had lived a thousand lives before you were even born. Part of you wondered how often he had laid with someone like this, wondering how you'd compare to the rest.

He flopped on his back to catch his breath, chuckling as he stared at the canopy of his bed.

"That was...." He turned to look at you, a boyish grin on his face that you recognized as a happiness he never wore. "Worth the wait."

You let out a breathy laugh of your own as you turned onto your stomach. "Good. I'd hate to disappoint."

"You'd never disappoint, Starling." His smile softened as he reached up to hook his thumb under your chin.

Your eyes trailed down his body, looking at his chest and scrutinizing it for the first time. Scars marred his body. "I'm surprised you never had Genya erase those."

"They remind me of what I'm fighting for." He followed your gaze and sighed, the wall of sadness back in place, and also, you realized, grief.

You reached out to take his hand, kissing his palm. "The fight will be over soon."

He held his arm up so that you could tuck into his side. Hugging you into his side, he kissed the top of your head. "One way or another, Starling. One way or another."

#darkling x reader #darkling smut #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan smut #aleksander morozova imagine #darkling imagine #general kirigan imagine #sinful sunday

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 2 years

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Orphan of Shadows Chapter 3

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1056

Summary: Life in Ketterdam and meeting a stranger with a cane

Life in Ketterdam was . . . hard, far harder than the Suli had led you to believe, but getting there was leagues easier than you’d thought. By offering to help a ship’s cook--and because you were a small child instead of a mangy teen begging for passage--you’d managed to secure passage to the Kerch city without even having to trade the overlarge kefta you’d grown quite attached to. The coat had rarely left your injured shoulders since you’d stolen it, so between how dirty the thing had become and the impossibility that a little girl would have a real kefta stolen from the Darkling, no one commented or attempted to steal the thing.

So you’d arrived in one piece (mostly healed from your foray across the Fold), snuck away from the crew of the ship before they could get any ideas about what to do with you in a place like Ketterdam like the cook warned you to, and set to work establishing a home in the Barrel. With your stolen funds and ‘rare’ items from East Ravka, you paid for a room in a place called the Slat for the next few months; it seemed no one in these parts cared enough to bat an eye about yet another orphan needing a home due to the plague that recently burned through the city.

Somehow, you found work in a nearby tailor’s shop. The shopkeep was apparently getting on in years and needed someone to do the tedious, often stabby, work of hand-picking unwanted embroidery out of the local prostitutes’ dresses. She could get away with paying such a young girl next to nothing, so the job was yours.

Years passed with you barely squeaking by, but you made damn sure that your boss never found any reason to be upset with you because you quickly realized how sought-after a job like yours was in the Barrel. Gangs were the only other real option around for employment, offering pay to those who were willing to work more . . . outside the law, but you steered clear of all gangs but the Dregs. That particular gang apparently ran the Slat as well as the usual bar you haunted when you wanted to get out of the house, the Crow Club, so you made friends with a few of its members rather quickly.

Then one day not long after you turned fifteen, a new face strolled through the door of the tailor’s shop. He was, in a word, beautiful. Sleek, black hair, slightly shadowed brown eyes, a well-fitted suit, and an expensive-looking cane tucked into his hand. Those eyes were cold and calculating when they landed on you after studying the shop for a moment.

“Hello, can I help you?” you greeted pleasantly.

“You’re the one that’s rented a room in the Slat for the last few years, correct?”

Not the type of question you’d expected to be asked in the slightest, at least not while working. “What’s it to you?”

That calculating glint in those coffee brown eyes turned the slightest bit amused. “As the new owner, I thought it would be wise to know my tenants.”

Your eyes widened. Nervously, you wiped your palms on your apron--hoping there was no residual blood on them from varios pinpricks--before offering one of them along with your name. After a moment of him just staring at it, you slowly retracted the appendage and asked instead, “This you telling me to get my shit and get lost, then?”

His gaze landed on the coat hook behind you. “That’s the Black General’s kefta.”

“A copy,” you lied. To most, it would have been believable, but you could see that he was absolutely not buying it. “Something I acquired when I was little and first came here.”

“Now why would a young girl do that? General Kirigan is a strange person for a child to idolize.”

You shrugged. Truth mixed with lies were always the best way to talk your way out of something, you’d learned. “I’m from East Ravka. Came over when I was eight, and it reminded me of home.” At your feet under the desk, your shadow squirmed slightly out of its usual shape with your discomfort; hopefully, he wouldn’t notice that little detail from where he was standing. “Who doesn’t want to be a grisha at that age after a trip like that?”

“And you've kept it this long?”

“It’s warm.” You knew your gaze was challenging, but like hell would you give up your secrets without a fight.

A cruel smirk formed on his handsome face. “To your earlier question, no. You are not being evicted so long as you keep paying on time. The deal is the deal, and a contract is a contract even if it was the previous owner is the one that made it.”

“The deal is the deal,” you parroted quietly, voice borderline breathy with relief. Then your curiosity got the better of you. “Then why are you here?”

“The Dregs do a fair bit of work in the Slat,” he said plainly, both hands folding over the top of his cane. “Either I need insurance that you know how to keep your mouth shut, or we need to come to some other agreement.”

You crossed your arms. “The Dregs have always been good to me; I’ve no interest in selling them out. I won’t join, but you have my word that I know how to keep quiet.”

“What good to me is the word of a girl I don’t trust?”

You swallowed nervously. Yeah, you really should have seen that coming.

Seeming to expect that reaction, he suggested, “Given your record so far, I’ll bargain with you. What do you say?”

“I say, ‘What is the bargain?’”

“Smart girl. We will both continue exactly as we have been, but you will owe me. One favor of my choosing to be used at any time.”

Your eyes narrowed. Something that open-ended wasn’t something you liked agreeing to, but honestly there wasn’t much you were unwilling to do as long as you got to keep living your life freely. “I won’t kill for the Dregs.”

He nodded calmly. “Do we have an accord?”

“The deal is the deal.”

It was only as you were heading home for the night that you realized you never got his name.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone imagine #shadow summoner!au #six of crows imagine #soc imagine #reader insert #sab imagine #10k

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

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Draw your swords, pt.4

Summary: In his attempt to get to know his wife, the Darkling realizes he might be getting too close.

Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual innuendoes, slightest bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three

=================================

Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. Not only did she agonize over the slightest possibility of his words being true, but the lingering of his lips on hers even hours after they’ve left tormented her mind. Instead of sleeping, she sat outside in the darkness with nothing but stars to keep her company. She shuddered with the cold wind as it chilled her, even the kefta didn’t protect her as well as she thought it would.

Sighing, she smiled up at the night sky, watching the stars in their celestial dance. It’s undeniable, she’s envious of them – their freedom is undisputed, their beauty unmatched by anything earthly. No one can force a star to marriage, no one can dull its brightness.

“Are you alright?” Genya spoke up, startling Y/N into a loud gasp.

Turning around, Y/N giggles in slight panic, a hand resting on her chest. “You scared me!”

“I didn’t mean to”, she chuckles too, coming closer to Y/N who let out a relieved sigh, only to look up once again.

“I couldn’t sleep”, she explains, “So I came here to watch the stars.”

“Most people are afraid of the dark”, Genya raised an eyebrow as she fixed her gaze on Y/N instead. She studied her carefully, unsure if she should invest all her hopes and dreams in her – no matter how striking she is.

“Oh, I’m scared of the dark!” Y/N exclaims, pointing up at the sky, “But the night sky is littered with lanterns, meant to guide you home. My mom always told me to look up whenever I feel lost, because the stars will help me find answers to any worry.”

Pursing her lips, Genya frowned, “Does that mean you doubt your plan?”

“No”, Y/N replied with haste, “I am simply trying to understand some of the chess pieces I thought I had figured out.”

Looking back at the Palace, Y/N’s eyes found the window of her room in an instant. A dark figure passed by it, the candlelight revealing the figure is pacing.

“He’s not a bad man, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Holding her breath, Y/N’s eyes find amber ones, “That’s not what I’ve heard. His deeds have spoken plenty about the strength of his character.”

“He’s fighting a war, not just with the outsiders, not just your father, but those on our side as well.” Pausing, Genya steps before her, “Do you know what they call him?”

“The Darkling”, she states, “A starless saint, a demon, a shadow king.”

“So many of those names are meant to demonize him, to shun him from society simply for the power he was born with”, licking her lips, Genya reaches for Y/N’s hand. “His own people are dying simply for who they’re born as – humans, Shu, Druskelle, they’re all sharpening their swords. If he’s not feared, we’re all dead.”

Nibbling on her lower lip, Y/N closed her eyes. Exhaling, she faced Genya once more.

“Does that mean I should applaud him for the way he’s treated the First army so far? How can you defend him when he’s the one who brought you here…to the emperor?”

Retracting her hand, Genya flashed a smile – one too strained to be believable. “He tried to defend me and got himself punished for it. So I’m here and I’m telling you to give him a chance.” Walking past Y/N, Genya stops just a few paces behind her, “He might surprise you.”

All the things Genya said became faint echoes inside Y/N’s head. When she returned to the room, she was ready for a new quarrel with Kirigan. Despite her readiness, he was sound asleep as she slipped her kefta off. With trembling fingers, she lifted the comforter only to stifle a laugh upon a surprising sight. Not only had there been a pillow to separate them, but three to ensure she wouldn’t accidentally roll on his side during the night. Perhaps she did smother him the night before and for once, she didn’t feel ashamed, rather satisfied. If he’s so insistent on sharing a bed, why would she make it any easier on him?

Tossing the pillows aside, she slid onto his side. Pressing her lips in a thin line, she tried to wrap an arm around his middle, but she couldn’t do it with her heart clenching wildly inside her chest. She drew back, forming tight fists at her side as she glared up at the canopy in frustration. If she’s going to play well and win, she’ll have to swallow her pride and withstand some discomfort.

Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N held her breath as she half climbed atop of Kirigan. Waiting to see if he’ll wake, Y/N finally released a shuddered breath. Burying her nose in the crook of his neck, she finally felt herself warm up after being outside for so long.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled his scent – woodsy and clean as if he had just had a bath. She never realized it before, but he smelled the same way on their wedding day…and night. But also earlier when he was pressed against her, devouring her mouth. Just the thought of his arms around her, his tall frame against her and the feverish kiss they’ve shared had caused her heartbeat to quicken with no shame.

And while she drifted off, she failed to realize something else – the Darkling was very much awake.

Instead of moving away when he felt a weight atop of him, he struggled to even his breathing. She smelled like spring, like lilacs and oddly enough, he enjoyed it. Most times, he’d crinkle his nose in disgust for strong, flowery scents made him nauseous, but she didn’t have the heavy, unbearably thick air of perfume cling to her – it felt like it’s her natural scent.

Smiling, the Darkling allowed himself to relax once her breathing calmed down and while her hands and feet felt like icicles, her cold nose brought most of the discomfort. Once she warmed up, by stealing his body heat, the Darkling began to drift away too. After all, he was winning.

A single ray of sunshine came through the window, its heat tickling Y/N’s nose. Sleepily, she brushed at it then tried to turn away, but something blocked her way. She lazily opened her eyes and saw the strange bed canopy overhead. When she remembered where she was and how she fell asleep last night, she felt her face grow hot as blood rushed to her cheeks. Even her body seemed to blush. She moved her head toward the other side of the bed and looked at where her husband’s supposed to be, yet he was gone – only the pillows she could have sworn she removed remained.

There was no way of knowing it, but each morning, the Darkling opened his eyes and looked at her first. No matter if she was drooling or her hair matted on her face, he quite enjoyed his view. She seemed gentle, almost like a saint sent to remind him light can exist along with darkness he’s been shrouded in.

Disgruntled, she sat up and huffed. She wanted to wake up at the same time as he did. One, she wanted to see his reaction and laugh, two, she really wanted to discuss the kiss from before. Then again, she just wanted to see the general at his most vulnerable state – waking up disheveled, just like any human would. His perfectly styled hair unnerved her and she couldn’t help but wonder if Genya used her power on it because she had never once seen a hair out of place, not even after their kiss.

For the rest of the day, Y/N tried to catch him alone. Unfortunately, she barely saw her husband at all. A fleeting glance of acknowledgement was all she received as they passed each other in the hall, both surrounded by others.

At night, she laid awake in hopes of speaking to him before bed. The faint candlelight on the bedside table kept the darkness away, relieving her fear. Would he laugh at her if she admitted to it? After all, isn’t he the one who can create darkness out of thin air? Perhaps he’d shroud her with it and prove he truly is cruel, but she had no way of being sure. He must never know of it and she truly hoped never to see his display of power.

Lost in her thoughts, she blinked and it was morning.

Wide eyed, she sat up and looked to his side. It was unmade, the pillow dented right where his head was and yet she can’t remember hearing him arrive in the night or leave in the morning. She never does.

“Fuck”, she mutters under her breath as she slams a fist in his pillow. Grunting, she buries her face into it, muffling her frustrated scream.

“Are you done?” Genya frowned at her, waiting by the door while Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs into a pillow.

“YOU’VE GOT TO STOP SNEAKING UP ON ME!”

Scoffing, Genya rolled her eyes. “You need to be more perceptive about your surroundings.”

A knock on the door had startled them both, enough for them to both let out a strangled scream. The door opened before either of them gave the permission and once they realized who it was that entered, they didn’t need a reason as to why.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The Darkling grinned at his wife who narrowed her eyes at him immediately.

“Your voice gives me a headache”, Y/N complains.

Squinting at her, the Darkling wondered if a woman could be so infuriating without wielding some mystic power to make her so.

“I believe you agreed to ride with me.”

“Oh”, Genya smirks, “She’ll ride you –“, covering her mouth, Genya giggles as she sees Y/N’s glare is on her, “I meant, with you.”

“I’ve prepared the horses”, he waited for her to respond, to give him reason to dislike her yet she didn’t.

“I will keep my word”, Y/N stood with her formidable gaze on his. She dared not look at his lips for they brought memories and self-loathing she’d rather avoid. After all, what kind of a woman quivers for her enemies touch?

“Wonderful”, he smirks, “I’ll wait for you to dress.”

Remaining in his spot, his hands at his sides, Kirigan raised his eyebrows as both women stared at him.

“Get out”, Y/N waves him off and he clicks his tongue.

“You may not let me touch you, but I can look.”

Angry, she narrowed her eyes at him, “That didn’t stop you from pinning me to a door.”

Genya’s eyes widen, pressing her lips to stop herself from commenting on their little exchange.

Shrugging, he stepped closer. His eyes raked over her body, the nightgown leaving little to imagination. “You didn’t seem to protest”, he leans in, “Especially since you proved you could easily escape me.”

Swallowing thickly, she exhaled through her nose. She couldn’t argue with that, now could she? If she wished, she could have forced him to unhand her. She could have fought him, but she didn’t. She may have been startled when he kissed her but she barely tried to push him away and still, when she had the option to back away, she was the one leaning in for a kiss when he lifted her onto the table. He played a game with her and she lost that day and now he gets to be smug about it.

“As your husband, I promise to protect you from all others. If anyone harms you, they’ll part with their life. For that alone, I deserve an occasional view.”

Winking, he takes a step back and sends a smile in Genya’s direction before turning on his heel and walking out.

“YOU KISSED HIM?!”

Groaning, Y/N throws her head back, “Sort of. It’s more like he kissed me and I didn’t fight him on it.”

“So, does this mean you like him?” Wiggling her eyebrows, Genya squealed in excitement. “Are you bringing him on this plan of yours?”

Holding out her hand, Y/N shook her head, “No, no and no. I don’t trust him one bit and he isn’t exactly a man who’d go along with it.” Exhaling loudly, Y/N decided, “He must be removed along with the emperor.”

When she walked outside, Y/N breath was caught in her throat. The sight of the general on a horse truly felt like a fabrication. Never had she seen a man as majestic as him, as proud and aggravatingly cocky all at once. With his black kefta and the cape, he rode on a black stallion as if he were a mere extension of his will.

She wasted no more time in mounting her white mare, chasing after the Darkling who seemed to only then notice he’s not alone.

Her horse was not above average size, but she was alert and slender-limbed. Her muscles and good nature allowed Y/N to keep up a fairly good pace, never too far behind the black stallion her husband rode. The stallion was clearly riled up, competitive by nature. Anyone else on its back would be a great danger for the rider, but he clearly trusted Kirigan.

The wind blew her hair back and the cold was rather unforgiving on her skin. Passing him narrowly once they entered the woods, she didn’t look back. Instead, she gripped the reigns tighter and continued to breathe as the cold air made her mouth dry and throat scratchy.

Feeling his gaze on her, she relents, looking back at him.

“Where’s your coat?!” He shouted after her and only then did she realize it must have fallen off. Genya made it pretty for a romantic ride, not quite as practical for a race. But that’s not what truly made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. The hint of worry laced in the words of an angry general is what betrayed him and she couldn’t help but wonder – what if it’s more than just lust for him?

“It was slowing me down”, she couldn’t suppress a victorious smile just as he couldn’t suppress an annoyed grunt. Yet they both slowed down, neither of them speaking as they turned around and headed straight to the palace.

“You’re an avid rider.” The general conceded as he dismounted. Before she could blink, he was beside her, his hands on her hips as he pulled her of the horse and effectively stole her breath away.

The rosy colored cheeks left him defenseless as he stared at her too, a little too intently for it to be innocent. Taking her hands in his, he brought them up to his mouth, blowing at them. She kept her gaze at him, undoubtedly in shock as her cold hands started to tingle with the warmth of his breath.

“I’ll have to leave for a few days”, he speaks before she has a chance. “You’ll have the bed all to yourself.”

“Don’t I have to come? If it concerns my peo –“, she began, but he silenced her.

“It’s got nothing to do with the army. I’m merely doing an errand for the emperor.”

Looking at her hands still in his, she pursed her lips. “Doesn’t he have enough servants to do his bidding?”

A breathless chuckle escapes him, “Why? Will you miss me?”

Rolling her eyes, she snorts, “Why? Do you fancy yourself as someone of importance?”

He looked at her like she's the Sun, angrily squinting at every second she spent in his presence. He never looked at her other than in frustration. At least she thought so. It’s how he looked at her a month ago when they first met on a field stained with Druskelle blood. He stood there, alone and victorious as she stepped over the bodies after arriving on this side of the fold with a Sandskiff.

All of their conversations were arguments – she’d narrow her eyes and he’s squint at her, throwing jabs at each other every chance they get, but this felt different. Something changed after the wedding and she wasn’t entirely sure what.

Achingly aware of their closeness, she couldn’t help but ask. "What is this between us?"

Pausing, he looked at her with wonder. If he could put it to words, it wouldn’t make any sense. His mind could hardly fathom what exactly she meant to him other than being a nuisance, but he didn’t exactly hate her as he believed at first when he admittedly hoped she’d find herself eaten by Volcra while crossing the Shadow fold. What he hated was not having a choice. He hated how arrogant she is and how little respect she has for her superiors. He especially hated her mortality, her species and all the atrocities they’ve committed against him and his kind.

He didn’t love her, that he was sure of. He couldn’t possibly care for her either. Lust, winning this game, feeding his ego by having Zlatan’s daughter at his feet is what he longed for. So no, he didn’t love her, but a part of him feared he might love her in time. For the first time in a very, very long time, the Darkling had a fear and it carried her name.

Perhaps that’s why he reacted the way he did when she asked him if there is something between them.

"Nothing." He grabbed the back of her neck, his lips pressing against hers hard.

He was right, she realized. There was nothing between them, nothing between their lips, not even air.

Pulling away, he smirks as she inhales sharply.

"Did you feel a connection?" He looks her in the eye, his lips set in a firm line.

"Yes", she whispers shakily.

His eyes harden as an ache in his chest reminds him of his fear. Someone like him must give up anything he could possibly love for the loss and disappointment are inevitable. She’s mortal, an enemy behind his borders he can never trust. So he will shut his heart out. Love is not an option for the Darkling, he reminds himself. The last time he allowed himself to love was also the day his heart turned to stone. So, he will not love her and she will not love him. He will destroy that possibility, cut any ties that bind them. Lust is the only thing he will let fester.

Leaning in, his lips brush hers softly as he whispers against them, "That's why you're a fool." Stepping back, he heard her gulp. “The connection you feel is lust, that’s all we have and it’s all we will ever have. Accept it.”

“Is that true or are you just afraid?!” Her voice wavers and she instinctively steps toward him, asserting dominance she felt was lost.

“General”, Ivan calls out, just in case Kirigan needed an excuse to leave.

“Afraid?” The Darkling chuckles dryly, averting his gaze to Ivan who waited for him at the entrance. “I’m not afraid of anything”, he remarks as his eyes lock on her lips again, “Certainly not of my wife.”

As he stepped back, the Darkling caught the strangest look in her eyes. It looked like clarity, total and complete sobriety from the ecstasy his presence gave her. She stood proud, despite the self-loathing in her previously warm eyes that slowly turned them back to the ice she held when she first laid her eyes on him.

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Part 5

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling au #the darkling fanfiction #the Darkling fic

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light-yaers · 3 years

Text

Fools in the Darkness: Chapter One

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: I caved. I am a wildly stupid individual who has no control over her actions. I know I might come to regret posting this so fast and thus forcing myself into my third ongoing x reader fic, but I also just generally don’t care. I’m still working on No Saints and Sweet Esacpe, just as a slower pace due to my mental health, but this baby here floated out of me like melted butter. I’ll be alternating between uploading this fic and my currently ongoing others! I just had to get this shit out of my system about Shadow and Bone, fr.

Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 3.4k

Chapter One

Ketterdam covered up your secrets perfectly. It’d only been a matter of weeks since you’d fled there, after travelling the exhausting journey across East Ravka until the Fold had stood before you; brooding, dangerous, a death-wish just to look at, let alone enter it.

Maybe you had to thank him for one thing, General Kirigan, because without him—

You never would have crossed the Fold on your own.

Maybe Ketterdam was made for a person such as yourself. Dark, danger around every corner, full to the brim with power-hungry men and women trapped behind silks. You’d never warmed to anyone yet, but that wasn’t a surprise—it was easy to hate people in the Barrel, but even easier to take their kruge and send them sailing upon the True Sea without another glance.

Kerch was a merchant port, stuffed with expensive clubs and those with no money troubles, armed and ready to open their pockets if they so wished. There were two sides of the docks—Fifth Harbour; the lavishly bright sector for the rich and wealthy—and the Barrel; a breeding ground for crime, killings and losing all of your kruge in one night.

You’d made acquaintances with the Barrel rats from the very beginning, hearing stories about the destruction they caused. You’d much rather not be on the side of the wealth, but the side of fear.

“I found her wandering the harbour, Kaz,” A petite lady in dark clothes spoke to her boss. She’d dragged you from the bustling harbour, flying you through the dark streets of Ketterdam. You tried to hear her footsteps across the cobblestones, but she left no footprints, like a Wraith in the night.

Kaz approached his desk then, stepping into the small lamp light of his office in the Slat. Kaz Brekker was a man that no one wanted to cross. With his clenched jaw and unforgiving stares, the Bastard of the Barrel was cut-throat in every sense of the description.

“She’s a rat, Inej. Not our responsibility—,”

“Do you see the clothes she’s wearing?” Inej cut over Kaz, stepping towards him abruptly. He stayed in place, looking at his Wraith in the eyes, unwaveringly. He regarded her for a moment, taking all of her in, before turning back to you.

His eyes skimmed you up and down, traversing the darkened and muddied fabrics on your body.

“A Kefta,” He whispered it, his eyes widening. “It doesn’t look like the usual Second Army attire,” He added. You perked up, trying to keep your expression as blunt as possible. After your journey, it wasn’t hard not to show anything—you’d been forced to endure a quiet and agonising journey for a month, while trying to stay in the shadows at the same time.

“Because it’s not,” You spoke up, for the first time since entering Brekker’s office. Kaz turned his attention to your face, stepping forward menacingly. His crow-headed cane slammed the wooden floorboards threateningly, but you weren’t scared—

You’d crossed the fucking Fold on your own. Nothing scared you anymore.

“Who are you?” He questioned, trying to keep his voice steady. Men like Kaz tried not to show off what they felt either, but the curiosity in his tone was undeniable. You cleared your throat.

“How much time have you got?”

Fjerda, 1 Year Ago

It was a risk to take, that was for sure. But choosing whether to go through the Fold or around it was a no brainer. Evidently, it had paid off so far, as you and your sister travelled through the barren coldness of Fjerda, headed for the Ravkan border.

“How much farther?” Your sister chided. She was older than you by a year, but on this mission, you’d taken charge. You shuffled into your pack, pulling out a tattered map and a compass. You set the point to North, calculating the miles you had left to trudge to safety.

Your sister wasn’t Grisha, no—you were. A Squaller; untrained, unenthusiastic about your power and utterly afraid of the Druskelle. But you’d had no choice in getting you and your sister safely around the Fold. There was no other way to go from where you’d first found asylum in Novyi Zem; going through Fjerda was the safest route to the Ravkan army.

You smiled at the map. “Five miles. Then we’ll be in Ravka,” An exhausted but relief filled scoff fell from your lips. You locked eyes with your sister, before the two of you embraced tightly. “We’ll be safe soon,” You whispered in her ear, enjoying the small warmth you got from her bare cheek pressing against your jaw.

“You’ll be safe soon,” She replied, bringing a hand to rest on the back of your neck. She pulled away then, as the tears began to well in her crystalline eyes. “You put yourself in this danger to keep me safe. I’m the older sister—I should be keeping you safe,”

“It was this, or through the Fold,” You spoke, furrowing your brows at her. “I’d rather take on twenty druskelle than step foot in that heaping mound of darkness,” Laughter trickled from both sisters, floating over the snow-covered trees and giving you hope.

You both continued forward tirelessly, mercilessly, trudging through inches of untouched snow and praying to whichever god out there who was listening. You prayed for your sister’s safety, for a safe life for her in the First Army. You prayed that you could stay with her—

A Squaller you were, yes, but over your dead body would you be taken to the Little Palace. You knew that’s where Grisha were trained for the King, you knew it was different. Your abilities didn’t define you; Saints, you barely even used them.

They were unpredictable. And you were scared of hurting those around you without meaning to. Ever since an incident when you were younger, you’d almost been afraid of your own power. You kept it hidden from those who you didn’t know closely.

Those who knew you were Grisha in Novyi Zem called you zowa—blessed, in Zemeni. It also meant Grisha, so you didn’t know if they were simply calling you what you were, or if they were commenting upon how strong your Squaller abilities were.

You’d never even met another Sqauller. You had nothing to compare yourself off of.

With a mile until you hit the Ravkan border, you stopped abruptly. Plumes of smoke rose high above the skies, coming from somewhere further on before you. You stuck your hand out, halting your sister from walking any further.

You were silent, listening for any signs of breakings twigs, compacted snow, or other indications of druskelle being near.

“Saints, you look like a fentomen,” Your sister scoffed beside you.

“Quiet,” You hit back with.

“What is it?” She spoke again, quieter this time, but not by much.

“Quiet,” You hissed.

You both waited another few minutes, silently standing like statues in the garden of the Grand Palace. You let out shaky breaths as you eventually straightened yourself once more, clutching onto your sister’s forearm for dear life.

“It’s okay. We just need to be wary,” You whispered. She nodded in response.

You both set off once more through countless trees and untouched snow. But you didn’t get far—until two druskelle spotted you. Neither of you could speak Fjerdan, and you were a fucking Grisha. This couldn’t have been any worse, when you were so close to being free.

“Hje marden,” One of them spoke. They were both tall, with broad shoulders and the white hair and blue eyes of Fjerda. Neither had beards—they were in training to being full druskelle. The trainees were always worse than their commanders, you thought. They would do anything to prove themselves to their superiors.

You tried not to shake as they circled you and your sister.

“I’m sorry, we don’t speak Fjerdan,” You said honestly. The druskelle immediately changed. Their hands rested upon their guns, ready to fire if need be. You raised your hands to the sky as your expression dropped. “Please! Please, we are just travellers—uh—we are perjenger—,”

“Perjenger? Travellers? To where?” The second druskelle spat.

You glanced at your sister quickly, knowing that if you answered Ravka, you’d both be shot immediately. Ravka was at war with Fjerda—Grisha were at war with Druskelle.

“Kerch,” You said strongly. “We have to go through Ravka and Shu Han. We can’t cross the Fold,”

For a moment, you thought it had worked. The druskelle looked at each other gruffly, muttering some words in Fjerdan. You clutched onto your sister’s arm tightly, not planning on letting her go now until you’d both crossed the border.

“Wait here,” One of the men said, as he began trudging back through the snow. He disappeared in the white landscape, leaving you with one druskelle.

You stayed quiet, feeling the warmth of your sister next to you. You glanced at her then, traversing your gaze over her side profile. Her nose, which was the same as yours; her eyes, brighter and more beautiful than your own, mimicking your mother; her hair, lighter and softer than yours. She was shorter than you, smaller than you, getting a lot of genetics from your mother, while you took from your father greatly. His height, his broad shoulders, his darker hair.

But she was your only family left, your only love and focus and everything.

And you were less than a mile from getting her to safety. You were less than a mile from being free of this Saint forsaken country, full of killers and fascists and men who only cared about power.

It was one druskelle against a Squaller. One against one. You could do that. You could beat him.

That’s what made you push your sister back, falling into the snow slowly as you brought your hands together. The druskelle yelled as he saw your movements, trying to aim his gun at you between your eyes, but it was too late—

In a flash, you summoned a storm that whipped him off of his feet. It circled him, gliding him backwards through the trees as you kept pushing and pushing, ignoring the raging winds as they whipped your hair from your face and agitated the snow on the trees.

“Come on!” You yelled behind you, as your sister scrambled up from the floor to stand beside you. She held your arm sturdily, watching fearfully as the druskelle struggled against the rapid winds that you wielded.

You thought that was it—you could both run with the time you’d bought—but that’s when the entire druskelle camp rocketed through the tree line. They yelled and boomed as they came to aid their brother, pushing back against the furious winds you were trying desperately to wield.

“Drüsje!” The commander yelled, storming through the group as he set up the largest of their guns—a machine gun, aimed and ready fire. You gasped, and for a second the winds wavered—they wavered long enough for the machine gun round to penetrate the small snow snuffed tornado that you’d created—

Until those bullets trickled over the blanketed ground, moving steadily closer and closer—

Until one landed straight through the heart of your sister.

All you remembered was that time slowed, then, as you saw the bullet exit her shoulder blade. She fell to the floor, unclasping her hands from your forearm and collapsing into a shocked heap on the floor. You remembered the way her blood dyed the snow. You remembered the way her eyes stayed open—

And then you remembered screaming.

It was a blur, as you tensed all of your limbs to the point where they yelled beneath your skin. You mustered all of your strength into this one storm; one that was merciless and unforgiving, circling all the druskelle in the clearing around you. You knew that soon all of the air would fade from within the eye of the storm that whipped devilishly around them.

You knew that soon they’d all begin to run out of oxygen and pass out, or better yet—maybe their hearts would stop. Cease to beat, drained of any energy to fire more rounds of bullets or kill Grisha for no fucking reason.

The storm was the largest you’d ever summoned, engulfing the entire druskelle camp and uprooting trees from their homes in the cold, hard Fjerdan ground. You saw them get sucked into your whirlwind, flying high, high, high until they eventually slipped out of the storms’ gusts; then they fell back down to earth, landing aggressively and dangerously on the ground below and being spat out at any random location.

You didn’t stop the storm, not even when you saw a tree fall atop a druskelle, crushing him where he’d stood moments before. The commander was the last one standing, rising above his suffocating men to look at you, face on, menacingly.

“Drüsje like you deserve to lose that which you love,” He boomed, using his remaining energy to cast you to Hell.

You wasted no time when you adjusted your stance, focusing the brunt force of the storm onto him—you decreased the eye of the storm until it flowed over him, and only him, grunting all of your strength into the circling winds that now surrounded him utterly and completely.

You collapsed at the same time that the commander did, falling into inches of snow and crawling exhaustedly to your sister. She was motionless, cold, her lips turning blue by the second as her blood continued to flow on Fjerdan soil. Dead. Gone.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks without any indication of stopping, but you couldn’t sob. It was impossible when you were already holding your breath, too afraid that if you were to breathe, only screams would pour from your coarse lungs.

The clearing was deserted, now, as druskelle bodies laid motionless on the snow-covered ground, their camp up ahead completely destroyed. Broken branches, twigs, tree trunks were dotted around, acting as just another indication of the destruction that you were truly capable of. Saints, you wanted to know if you were a normal Grisha, a normal Squaller, since those old women on Novyi Zem had looked at you like a weapon from the first day you could summon and control hurricanes and tornados at will.

Your fingers found your sister’s forehead then, swiping the hair off of her face. You cupped her cheek, laying your other hand upon her stomach. “Vaarwell,” You whispered shakily. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—,”

“Who’s there?” A voice spoke up from just beyond the clearing. You got up from the floor immediately, feeling a strange sense of power surrounding you. You waited silently, until First Army soldiers made their way to the clearing. A few stopped and checked the pulses of the druskelle upon the floor, before continuing forward until you were finally spotted.

A young man approached you slowly, holding his gun tightly, draped against his shoulder. “Was this... you?” He asked, looking you in the eye. His gaze dropped to the ground by your feet, seeing the blood-stained snow where your sister lay dead, before he looked back up to you.

He was joined by the rest of his crew. They slowly approached you, almost as if they were trapping you within a circle of their bodies. You stepped back once then, keeping your chin high and proud. The young man at the front was trying everything to keep you calm, you could see it in his eyes, but what he didn’t know was that you were seething—

And nothing would stop that.

Without your sister, you’d be taken to the Little Palace. Without knowing she was safe in the First Army, nothing would get you through the rest of your life—

You were dead. Inside and out. Nothing would change that.

Without a word, you brought your hands together, far too quickly for any of the soldiers to raise their weapons in defence. You ignored their begs and pleads as you circled them within in your storm, slowly suffocating the air out of their lungs and seeing the way their eyes bulged uncomfortably in their skulls.

“General!” The young man shouted, clutching at his throat as he tried desperately to suck air into his lungs. His voice echoed throughout the clearing, travelling through the trees slowly, until an eery type of silence settled into the air around you.

That’s when he arrived—his horse just as black at the Kefta on his frame, the stubble on his chin and the irises of his eyes. He dismounted, ignoring the cries from the soldiers within your raging storm as he began to approach you, step by step by step, crunching through the snow broodingly.

You knew who this man was; General Kirigan of the Second Army.

The Darkling.

He got ever closer, walking around the circular storm. The gap was beginning to bridge, and the more it did, the more you faltered. He took one more step, and you lost it.

“Stop!” You yelled. “Don’t come any closer, Darkling,” He stopped on command, keeping his arms by his sides, but the corners of his mouth upturned into a smile. “You find me amusing?” You spat.

“By the looks of this,” He gestured to the druskelle. “You were trying to get to Ravka. We’re here to help, yet you’re trying to suffocate my men,” You ignored his words, but you found your energy waning slightly—or maybe your heart was finally giving in. It didn’t really want to hurt anyone else, didn’t want to cause more damage than was already on your hands. “You’re a Squaller?” Kirigan asked, and that surprised you.

“Isn’t this how all Squaller’s are?” You asked in reply. Kirigin raised a brow at you.

“Not usually,” He said honestly. “You’ve never met another Grisha before?”

“I know what you’re doing,” You furrowed your brows at him. “You’re trying to distract me, to make me let my guard down and go with you willingly. I’d rather die than work for the King at the Little Palace,” Your breaths were getting more laborious the longer you held on to the storm. You were losing energy rapidly.

“Interesting,” The Darkling muttered.

There were a few moments then, where he was simply staring at you. Regarding you, analysing you, or perhaps— waiting for you to lose all of your energy. You were in a somewhat sticky situation, losing a grasp on your power with every passing second and feeling the intense gaze of Kirigan to your left.

“Let go,” He spoke softly. “I can see you’re tired, you don’t truly want to kill these men,”

“You don’t know anything about me,” You forced your eyelids to stay open as a wave of exhaustion flowed through you.

“And you know me?” He chided. You moved your gaze to him then, as your limbs finally lost momentum. Your hands dropped to your sides, your storm dissipating into the cold air at the Fjerdan border. Soldiers sucked in breaths noisily, gaining back their vision.

You stumbled back once, forcing yourself to stay standing despite the immense urge to pass the fuck out. Kirigan stayed still the entire time, a softness on his jaw that you hadn’t been expecting.

“Everyone knows you,” You mumbled. “I never wanted to meet you, though,”

Your heart jolted then, when the General let out a scoff. You forced yourself to move. Step by step through disturbed snow, until you were back where your sister lay on the floor. You collapsed to your knees unwillingly, as your body threatened to blackout at any moment.

You laid a shaky hand on her collarbone, curling your fingers up to her jaw. Kirigan moved slowly in your peripheral, turning towards you but staying at the distance he’d always been.

“Don’t take me to Os Alta,” You muttered. “Please, don’t take me,” You looked up at the General with pleading eyes.

“Why?” Kirigan whispered with furrowed brows, as if he was trying to work out why on earth you didn’t want a life within the royal Ravkan walls, living in luxury, fighting with other Grisha and honing your power.

Your vision began to blur then, as black spots dotted the white snow that surrounded you.

You never answered the General, your body gave up before you could—

And all you saw was black.

Tag list of those who were interested from my earlier post (tell me if you want off/on the list): @notawritergettingtherethough @rbg1993 @mayallyourbaconburn @luminous-99

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Corridor Moments

A/n this is a request from @mariannagris for a fic with the Darkling x Sun Summoner! reader where they're having a cute moment and then Zoya walks in and sees that they're together and gets jealous.

I'm working on a longer fic that should be up this weekend!! I'm working through a bunch of requests/updates rn I promise lol

He's no longer guiding me, but he hasn't moved his hands away--one on my waist, one on my shoulder.

"Aleksander," I try to keep my tone casual, only hinting at a warning.

There's no way he misses it, but he still allows the hand on my shoulder to ghost across my collar before setting his palm on my cheek. "Yes, my sun?"

Before I can roll my eyes, he brushes his thumb across my cheek softly. His touch has started to become more casual, but I'm not sure the comfort it brings me will ever lose its novelty. I tilt my head slightly, leaning into his touch.

"We're not alone." The reminder is more for me than him. All of his actions are intentional, he knows the risks of his sudden bout of affection. "We may be in an empty hallway now, but we're not alone."

Aleksander leans forward slightly, forcing me to press my back into the wall to avoid melting into him. I don't miss his half-smile, a confident smirk breaking across his features. He knows what he's doing. "And what would we need to be alone for?"

The slightest hint of annoyance bubbles in my chest. For someone so determined, he enjoys playing coy more than he should. My lips part, prepared to call him out for his teasing, but Aleksander senses my hesitance like always. He leans forward again, this time pulling my chin up slightly so that our lips could brush together if I just inclined my head slightly.

The closer we get, the more I feel our distance. His eyes flicker downwards, focusing on the slight part of my lips. Aleksander angles his head downwards, allowing our lips to meet fully. Now that the barrier's been broken, I have no choice but to reciprocate with full force, my hands leaving his chest and finding their way into his hair. Aleksander's hands grab the collar of my kefta. He pulls me towards him sharply, as desperate as I am to eliminate space.

And then he pulls me away. I'm left pouting on instinct, lips slightly swollen and breathing a little uneven. "Easy," he chides, "We can't afford to get distracted."

I wrinkle my nose at him. He started this, pulling me out of the meeting under the ruse of important, private conversation. "And who's the one doing the distracting?"

Aleksander smiles fully. A real grin, the kind of grin that rivals any amount of sun I could ever produce. "You," he breathes, leaning in again and brushing his lips against my cheek, "Considering you won't leave my thoughts."

I let myself grin back, his unexpected softness an arrow that pierces through whatever's left of my composure. "You're awfully sentimental today."

He straightens slightly, expression still light. "Is that a bad thing?"

Squeezing the hand that he's placed on my waist, I beam at him. "Not bad at all--just different."

He's still looking at me with a fierceness that sometimes frightens me due to its wholeness, but something ancient and dark is settled behind his eyes. Something haunting that he won't let me help him with. I haven’t known him that long, but I’ve figured out that his affection is often a secret plea, a silent attempt to rid himself of darkness. What's the point of being able to summon the sun if you cannot banish the darkness that haunts those you care about? I raise his hand to my mouth, kissing each of his knuckles deliberately. He exhales at the contact, some sort of tension coiling in him at the chaste contact.

I like us better when we’re alone. When he lets things like this slip from him as he tries to let my light in him. I could stay in this corridor forever with him. I could hold him by his hand to make sure he can’t slip away from me.

Reality does not allow me to coddle my dreams. If I lose focus, he’ll be able to convince me to do anything--to forget my own name even. I drop my gaze to the hand I’m still holding, running my thumb along his knuckles. “We can’t--we can’t stay.” Not the truest sentiment--he can do whatever he wants. “I can’t stay.” The correction leaves me bitter. “Not for long.” The addition only softens the harsh edge of reality slightly. “People are already starting to think you’re extending favoritism towards me.”

Aleksander lifts the hand I’m holding, taking my hand with him. He turns my hand over before placing a kiss on my palm. The contact is warm and fleeting and I’m powerless against the sentiment it stirs. “And this isn’t favoritism?”

I roll my eyes, his warm breath is still against my skin. “That depends--am I your favorite?”

His hold on my hand tightens slightly. “You already know the answer.” I let the corner of my mouth twitch upwards. Aleksander has already offered me more than I expected today, but it’d still be nice to hear him say it. “You, my darling, my sun, will always be my favorite.”

I beam a little easier, warmth expanding in my chest. Still, the feeling isn’t enough to burn through all of my reluctance. His affection stems from the fact that he believes me to be his salvation. That’s the only thing that makes sense to me. How else could i have won his affections?

“It’s easy to favor a Sun Summoner,” the response is soft, a bit of forced teasing edging my words.

His eyebrows draw together as his hold on my hand tightens, turning from a gentle squeeze to a desperate grab. “Sun Summoner or not, no one else has ever held my favor the way you do.” Aleksander leans towards me again, the comforting heat of his breath on my cheek. “And no one ever will.”

I’m reduced to nothing more than happy neediness, letting him cup my face and pulling me towards him. His lips meet mine with a desperate understanding that’s both bruising and coddling. Aleksander’s teeth graze my bottom lip, testing waters that are unfamiliar between us. I reciprocate, pushing even closer to him. He pushes us backwards, pressing me against the wall as he moves his attention away from my lips and down my jaw, leaving a trail of hot skin wherever his lips brush.

“Aleksander,” I breathe, placing a hand on his chest, “Meeting--we need to--”

He pulls away just enough to let me feel his grin, “That can wait.”

“They’ll think things,” Despite my warning, Aleksander doesn’t pull away, his fingertips brushing against my collar. “They’re waiting,” he sighs against my hair, still careless, “Alina--she’s waiting...” He continues to touch me like I’m an illusion of the light. “And--” He smiles at my waning resolve, attempting to move forward to silence the last of my protests with a kiss.

I turn my head, suppressing a reluctant laugh at his carelessness. Aleksander is not discouraged, pressing a kiss against my cheek. Shifting my gaze while placing my hand on his chest to make it easier to push him off fo me, I freeze. He must feel my new stiffness, because Aleksander pauses against me.

Zoya. She’s standing at the entrance of the corridor, watching us--watching me--with such a sharp look of ill-defined displeasure I’m surprised I’m not physically withered by it. Awkwardness and something akin to guilt leave me blind as I try to create space between me and the unbudging General. Does he not see her?

“Yes?” His voice leaves goosebumps against my skin--not an ounce of shame, but not a drop of that easy-going softness either. He’s General Kirigan again--sharp and incapable of shame or regret. He’s in complete control, all the power in the world is at the fingertips that are still on my skin.

Zoya’s expression does not waver, eyes still locked on me. “Those in the meeting were beginning to worry, but I see that you’re occupied.” I was wrong. She’s not staring at me, she’s staring through me--like I’m nothing more than a thin curtain on a cloudless day during high noon. “I’ll inform the others.”

“You’ll inform them of nothing I don’t approve of.” He’s fierce, the threat of venom apparent in each syllable. “And it’d do you well to meet the Sun Summoner’s gaze with a little more respect.”

I’m quick to grab his forearm, desperate to articulate how much I’d rather him not pick this fight--not when most can barely stand me, not when the more I think of Zoya’s look I realize any bitterness towards me is something else. Not hatred, no--resentment. The kind of resentment that’s only ever a byproduct of something else. If I was bolder, I’d assume it a look of jealousy--maybe not over the man, but the attention and praise received for being nothing more than new and shiny. Her eyebrows knit together as Aleksander’s hold on me adjusts slightly. Okay, maybe the fact that I’m with Aleksander has something to do with it--but it has to be more than that. Her dislike of me, her constant myriad of comments and looks all points to a jealousy much more bitter than that of someone love sick.

If something in her has been broken over time here, time around Kirigan and his pension for manipulating that I am not blind to and my presence and joy is a reminder of that, than I can bear her hatred. “She was looking at me normally.” Before he can challenge me, I move his hands off of me gently and slip away from between him and the wall.

I guess that’s what it takes for him to understand that I mean it, Aleksander straightens and takes a step forward. His eyes linger on me as he walks forward. I stay a few steps behind him, a pathetic attempt to cling to any kind of properness I can manage.

“If I were you, I’d at least comb your hair with your fingers before entering that room again unless you’d like to announce yourself as a form of entertainment.”

Being a decent person is nauseating sometimes. “And take the fun out of it for you?”

I don’t wait for her reply, moving down the hall to catch up with Aleksander. Still, when I’m no longer next to Zoya I brush my fingers through my hair in hopes of correcting any damage she’s created. Maybe I should be more worried. Maybe I should care about the opinions of others more. But every reason to stay away from Aleksander entirely feels so small. I’m not naive enough to fall blindly, but the thing about being a Sun Summoner is that you can bring light with you, no matter how dark the path you chose is.

I watch Aleksander as he places a hand on the door to the room. He offers me one last, genuine smile. His path isn’t as dark as he wants it to seem, and even if it is, I don’t care.

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