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myhairpintrigger · 11 months

Note

hellooo i would like to request something <33

basically hanahaki disease w/ Aleksander? when alina arrived at the little palace, reader had been coughing and Aleksander noticed then reader found out that she was coughing petals and eventually got to know it was a disease with the help of some of the plant expert grishas i guess perhaps the healers? then reader starts to distance herself from Aleksander so he wouldn't know but he eventually found out because one of the grisha witnessed one of reader's coughing session and maybe an angst to fluff fic 👉👈

first of all, i am so sorry.. she's a long one... this has been tentatively proofread so i apologise for any grammar or spelling errors. this is my first time writing this trope so i hope it will do alright. thank u for ur beautiful req, my lovely anon, i love u!

warnings: hanahaki disease, blood, vomiting, aleksander is an idiot here lowkey.

word count: 11.9k

To Love Another & Be Loved (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

The Sun Summoner had to be one of the nicest people you’d met in your entire life.

You wanted to dislike her, after all, she was the center of Aleksander’s attention almost all of the time. Not even the scraps of his time had been reserved for you as of late.

But you simply couldn’t hate her. She was nothing but kind to you. You spent much of your time with her, anyway. You were the only other Tailor besides Genya and often helped her ready herself for important things when Genya was tending to the Queen. At first, your service to her was only out of obligation to Aleksander. After all, he was your best friend and he fought the King constantly to keep you away from the Grand Palace. The least you could do was help a bit. Surely it would be temporary.

You sat in Alina’s room with her and you focused hard on twisting her hair up and braiding little bits of it to create an elaborate updo. She was to have dinner with the King and Queen and the Prince that night along with Aleksander. You wordlessly pinned up a thin, tiny braid and Alina sighed.

“At what point does this all just… stop?” She asked warily and you eyed her through the mirror she sat in front of.

You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, “What do you mean?” You questioned and flickered your eyes back on her hair.

“Just… the showiness of it all. When do I become a person with capabilities rather than a spectacle?”

“Likely never.” You replied with a frown and you met her eyes in the mirror, “But that shouldn’t discourage you. Be the best damn spectacle this country has seen.”

Her shoulders squared a bit and she seemed to at least somewhat like what you had to say. You smiled and went back to her hair, your fingers deftly weaving braids and little twists together for a while longer. You sat back after some time and then placed a few decorative pins in her hair, giving her an approving smile.

“Lovely. I’m sure the royal family will just eat you up.” You teased and rose from the stool you sat on.

“I’m sure Aleksander won’t like that.” She countered playfully and the smile slowly faded from your face.

You blinked in surprise a few times and then let out an uneasy chuckle, “So he’s told you his name?”

You didn’t know why it bothered you. But it did.

Alina nodded and she slid on her kefta and buttoned it up while she hummed. You eyed her and bit down on the inside of your cheek. It was black, of course. You glanced down at your own kefta and smoothed it down almost self-consciously. You wore a red kefta that was intricately embroidered with blue threads, and you’d never been disappointed in it until now.

Why not dress her in gold? You asked silently as you stared at her and you felt that same bitter twinge of jealousy you’d felt ever since she came to the Little Palace. Furthermore, the little sparkle in her eyes when she said his name didn't go unnoticed by you.

“Yes, is it not very common knowledge?” She asked once she finished buttoning up her clothes and you shook your head.

You opened your mouth to speak but a knock on the door cut you off. You took this as an opportunity to end this conversation before it made you more upset and you hurried to the door. You opened it up and you were instantly met by a familiar pair of dark eyes. A little weight was lifted from your chest and you smiled up at Aleksander who gave you a smile right back.

“I figured you’d still be here.” He remarked and leaned down to press a chaste and polite kiss on your cheek. Your skin felt warm and tingly where his lips had made contact and as he pulled away, you prayed he didn’t see the way your face was flushing.

“It probably wouldn’t have taken so long if Alina didn’t have so much hair.” You noted and then tucked a piece of your own back behind your ear, “I haven’t seen much of you recently.” You remarked, trying your best to keep your tone casual.

Aleksander clasped his hands behind his back and he gave you a wide smile, “Well, as you know, I’ve been very busy. Join me for tea tomorrow afternoon, I would love to catch up with you.” He said earnestly and you felt a tug in your chest.

“Of course. Tea sounds wonderful.” You replied, and watched as his eyes shifted over your shoulder.

The look on his face made your own smile falter. His eyes were fixed on Alina who stood behind you and his smile had turned into an awestruck expression, his eyes softening in ways they didn’t even soften for you.

“Miss Starkov, you look dazzling.” He commented and you suddenly felt very small, standing in the middle of them.

Her shy giggle sent a gravelly itch up your throat and you blinked a few times, trying to fight back a cough.

She thanked him and said something else, but you didn’t hear it because a dry, gritty cough came tearing up through your throat. You held your hands over your mouth frantically and doubled over. You felt a hand on your back and slowly you straightened yourself back up and gasped for air, the coughs ceasing.

“Are you alright? Would you like a bit of water?” You heard Alina ask and you shook your head, shifting your eyes downwards.

“What was that? Did you choke on a fly?” Aleksander asked with an amused little chuckle. You gave him a terse laugh in response and felt your throat burn again. Another much smaller and shorter cough reverberated through your chest and you held your hands tightly over your mouth. A warm, wet feeling coated your palms and your face paled.

Once you recovered you frantically balled your hands up in fists and lowered them to your sides, clearing your throat, “I’m not sure where that came from. I think I’ll go make some tea. Have a lovely dinner.” You murmured hoarsely and scurried past Aleksander, not bothering to look back at them. You made it halfway down the hallway before you slowly unfurled your hands and held them up so that you could see your palms.

They were sporadically coated in blood.

“You don’t have a cold, y/n. Perhaps it’s just the dry air. Winter is upon us.” Genya stated as she stirred a sugar cube into her tea.

You looked over your shoulder and expected to see Aleksander any time now and then you turned back to Genya with a shrug.

“I don’t know what else it could be. I can’t stop coughing.” You replied, leaving out the part where most of your coughs dragged blood up from your throat.

She hummed and took a sip of her tea before shaking her head, “No. Grisha don’t get sick, lovely. You can’t have a cold. Perhaps you’re allergic to something you’ve been smelling or using or eating. Anything new in your diet? Perfumes? Lotions?” She pressed and you shook your head, “Well, then I’m not sure what to tell you. See a Healer if you’re concerned about it but I’m telling you it’s likely the dry air.” She urged.

You looked down at your own tea and watched tendrils of steam climb the air above it. You let out a sigh and reached out to grab a sugar cube, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and spun around, feeling instant relief when you saw that it was only Aleksander who had his hand on you. You sighed contently and leaned your cheek down against the back of his hand.

“Please, forgive me. I know I’m a bit late to tea. I just had a rather disappointing conversation with a few trackers.” He hummed and then pulled his hand away from your shoulder, leaving you with a certain kind of emptiness.

He slid into the chair next to you and grabbed your hand tightly, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. Genya must have heard it, because she smirked and quickly raised her teacup to her lips to hide it.

“You weren’t at breakfast this morning.” He commented and tapped your knuckles with the side of his thumb.

“I wasn’t feeling the best.” You drawled and looked up at his face. He didn’t seem overly concerned when you mentioned that you didn’t feel well, but he didn’t brush it off, either.

“Odd. Perhaps you should see my Healer.” He pressed and then he reached out and poured himself a cup of tea with his free hand before he released your hand.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you turned back to your own tea and took a sip of it, looking up at Genya who cleared her throat and stood up.

“Well. I’ll leave you two to it then. I’ve got to get back to the Queen.” She stated and gave you a small wave before scurrying off.

“Y/n. My Healer?” Aleksander pressed and you glanced up at him.

You gave him a polite shake of your head and you smiled, “No, it’s all okay. I feel much better now.” You insisted. And it was partially true. You did feel a bit better now that you had some tea.

You felt his onyx eyes on you as you turned back to your tea and before you could turn towards him, he reached up and brushed a bit of your hair back behind your ear.

“You look very tired.” He commented and frowned, letting his fingers linger against the side of your face for only a second before dropping them.

“I am tired. But I have a lot to do today. Besides, I’m getting fitted for my dress today. For the Fete.” You commented, trying to change the subject.

He hummed and then picked up his teacup, “What are you going to wear?” He asked curiously and he shifted his entire body towards you.

You looked over at him and slowly turned yourself to face him as well and you gave him a little smile, “Well, not red. That’s for sure. I picked something soft. Pink. A pretty pink dress.”

“Pink is a form of red.” Aleksander pointed out, an amused little smile forming on his perfect lips.

You giggled and then shook your head, reaching out to give his arm a very gentle smack, “Pink is a very nice color and even if it is red at the very core of it all, I will be wearing it.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and then he chuckled, “Determined little thing, aren’t you?” He asked and then set his teacup down, “I’m glad you’re coming. I was worried you would skip this Fete like you did last year.”

“Well, last year Vasily was all over me. And I hated it. Of course I didn’t go.” You remarked with a little snort. Aleksander laughed softly and shook his head, turning back to his tea.

You looked at him, your face softening. Everything about him seemed so… inviting in that moment. The way his hair was immaculately brushed back and curled around the back of his neck, the little curve of his lips as they stayed in their smile from your antics. His dark eyes shone with a rare light of humor and the light of the afternoon sun illuminated them perfectly as you stared at him from the side. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful.

And you wanted him so badly. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted him to hold you, you wanted him to look at you the way he’d looked at Alina the night before. You wanted to wear black with him and you wanted to be at his side during the Fete.

You were desperately in love with your best friend, and the worst part was that you could never tell him.

Your silence must have concerned him in some way, because he slowly turned to face you, the smile slowly vanishing from his face.

“Y/n, you look like you are about to cry, darling. What’s going on?” He asked softly and you shook your head a few times.

“N..nothing is wrong.” You lied and felt your throat begin to tingle with the familiar preceding another coughing fit, “I think I just need to go lie down. I feel… unwell.” You added, your voice getting weaker as you tried to keep a cough at bay.

“Please,” Aleksander began and slowly rose from his chair, “let me walk you to your room, my dear. You are starting to worry me a little bit, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.” He stated and held his arm out for you to take.

You reached up to grab his arm but instantly yanked your hands back and brought them to your face as you began to cough violently into your palms. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled your mouth and you heaved forward on your chair, nearly falling off as you coughed. Aleksander’s strong hands caught your shoulders, and before you could protest, he was lifting you up into his arms.

“Alright. I’m going to take you to your room and then I’m going to send for a Healer. This isn’t natural. You shouldn’t be coughing like that.” He stated.

You held your hands over your mouth for a while longer as your coughs subsided and you blinked a few times. Once you were sure no more coughs were to come, you pulled your hands up into the sleeves of your kefta and you cleared your throat, wincing as it burned, “No, you don’t need to. I swear to the Saints it’s just allergies, Aleksander.” You said wheezily.

He looked down at your face and his brows furrowed together and he shook his head, “You have blood on your chin.” He commented and you gaped up at him.

You reached up and wiped your chin with the sleeve of your kefta and he simply shook his head. You closed your eyes exhaustedly and let him carry you the rest of the way to your room. Once he’d gotten you to your bedroom, he laid you out on your bed and frowned down at you.

“I’m sending a Healer up here. Don’t be stubborn, please let them help. I’d stay but I’m taking Alina riding. Promise me you will accept the help I send for you.” He said sternly and you opened your eyes.

You stared up at him, something snapping in your chest. He couldn’t even stay to make sure you were okay?

“That’s fine. I promise.” You said bitterly and then shook your head, “Have fun riding with Alina.”

You were sure he caught the bitterness in your tone, because he scowled slightly and then shook his head. He looked as if he might argue with you but instead he wordlessly turned on his heel and left your room, slamming your door behind him.

A brutal cough tore itself free from your chest and it sent you shooting up into a sitting position. You held your hands over your mouth to catch the droplets of blood that loosed themselves from your throat. Your throat burned as if you were swallowing acid and you miserably pulled your hands away from your mouth between coughs. You stared down at the blood in your hands and suddenly your stomach twisted. You launched yourself off of the bed and grabbed the waste bin that sat near your bed and you coughed violently into it until something sharp tore its way up through your throat and out of your mouth. You had to blink a few times before it registered what exactly sat in the once-empty waste bin; what exactly came out of your mouth. A small cluster of thorns lay in a thick puddle of your blood, and a cluster of bloody rose petals laid around it.

Your mouth hung agape as you stared down into the wastebasket and you pushed it away from you with a frightened yelp.

Something soft slid against your tongue and you reached up and shakily pulled a blood wetted rose petal off of your tongue, and it was the last thing you saw before your vision went black.

Something wet and cold mopped across your feverish forehead and you slowly opened your eyes. Someone’s hand moved back and forth in your line of sight and you heard a loud gasp before your hands were being clutched tightly. You cleared the fuzziness from your vision by blinking a handful of times and you slowly sat up a bit to see Genya standing over you with her hands clasping yours. A Healer stood at your bedside with a cloth in her hand and you looked back and forth between the two of them before you let out a raspy sigh.

“Y/n! Sweetheart! What is going on? Emilia found you this way. She said The Darkling sent her up here to you and that when she came in you were out cold on the floor.”

Emilia must have been the name of the Healer girl at your side and you looked over at her with a terse smile before you looked back at Genya. Her wide eyes were even wider with fear and you frowned, not wanting to have frightened her.

“I’m fine, I promise. It just must be aller-“

“It is not allergies!” Genya cut you off viciously and dropped your hand to point at the waste bin, “What kind of allergy has you throwing up… plants?” She demanded and you simply shrugged.

She exasperatedly squeezed the hand of yours that she still held and she frowned, “Emilia tried to heal you but couldn’t find anything wrong with you. Your lungs sound terrible but other than that, you’re healthy.” She said with worry lacing every word she spoke, “When The Darkling gets back from riding-“

You shook your head and held your hand up, “No. No we are not going to tell him a single thing, do you two understand me? You will tell him I am suffering allergies and will be fine in a week or two. I don’t want him around.” You said in a clipped tone.

Genya looked surprised when you said this but she didn’t protest. Instead, she comfortingly brushed her thumb across the back of your hand and let out a defeated little sigh, “Oh, honey. Are things that bad?”

You slowly looked up at Emilia and Genya did as well. Emilia looked between the two of you and she let out a little sigh.

“I’ll go get you some tea for your throat.” She said, excusing herself from the conversation that you so desperately wanted to keep private.

The moment the Healer left the room, you burst into tears. Your ragged breaths seemed to tear trenches into your throat as you cried and little coughs escaped your lips between sobs. You buried your face in your hands and barely noticed when Genya sat right next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you against her side.

“Sweetheart, what happened? This afternoon you were all smiles for him.” She breathed and gently rubbed your arm, soothing your cries just slightly.

“Oh, Genya. I love him. I’m so very in love with him and he hardly gives me the time of day anymore. He speaks of Alina like she’s hung his entire sky. He looks at her like she’s more precious than jewels. He noticed I wasn’t feeling well, and he couldn’t even stay with me. He just tossed a healer at me and left to go with her. It hurts, Genya.” You cried, hiding your face against her shoulder.

The red haired girl stroked your hair and your back and your arm as you cried against her and at some point, reached out to grab the cool cloth Emilia had left behind. She gently dabbed it against your cheeks and the side of your neck and she frowned, letting you cry.

Your chest ached terribly at the idea that you loved your best friend who would never love you back, but it seemed to hurt more that you were all in all losing said best friend. Genya coaxed you down until your cheek was against her upper thigh and she ran her fingers through your hair, dabbing the cold cloth against your burning skin still.

“Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, honey.” Genya said softly, still trying to soothe you.

Tears rolled down your cheeks still, but your cries subsided for the most part. You exhaustedly closed your eyes and relaxed underneath the Tailor’s touch. You took painful, deep breaths and attempted to calm yourself. You laid in silence against Genya’s thigh for a long time, the only sounds being your sniffles and coughs and little whines. You desperately tried to clear your head of Aleksander, and nearly had, before your door swung open. You heard the handle smack against the wall, and heavy footsteps made their way across your floors. Aleksander. You laid still against Genya and prayed that he thought you were asleep.

“Emilia says it’s only allergies.” Genya said quietly and you felt her hand slow in your hair until it rested protectively against the crown of your head.

You heard him shuffle for a moment before he hummed, “She looks miserable.” He remarked.

He lifted his hand to touch your arm, but Genya shooed his hand away and shook her head.

“Let her sleep.” She murmured and you heard Aleksander snort.

“Well, according to my Healer, she’s been unconscious for three hours up until now. How is she sleeping again?” He asked and you could tell he didn’t believe you were asleep.

That didn’t stop you from pretending, still.

“Because she is feeling unwell. Why don’t you come and see her tomorrow morning?” Genya suggested and slowly began to drag her fingers through your hair again.

“I don’t want to see her tomorrow morning. I want to see her now.”

“I don’t think she wants to see you, moi soverenyi.” The Tailor countered.

The room was silent for a moment and then you heard the rustle of his kefta as he shifted in place. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back every desire inside of you that screamed for you to launch yourself into his arms. Maybe if you did, he would carry you like he had earlier. You wanted to scream how you loved him in his face and cry on his chest about how he was hurting you. But you stayed rooted in the bed.

“Mm, alright then. Let her know that she needn’t seek me out then. If she truly does not want to see me. I won’t bother her.” He said coldly and you felt your face screw up in despair.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m only saying she likely doesn’t want to be bothered and roused from an already uncomfortable sleep just so you can ask her what I’ve already asked a hundred times. It’s just allergies. It happens with the turn of the seasons.” Genya explained calmly, her voice steady.

“I’ve known her for years now and she’s never had allergies at the turn of the seasons.” He stated.

“Well, that’s the only thing that it can be. The Healer said it herself. She’s perfectly healthy otherwise.” Genya insisted.

There was another long silence in the room and you could feel his near-black eyes boring into you, traveling your crumpled form. But he said nothing more. After a while, you heard his footsteps as he left the room and the door closed, much more carefully this time.

You didn’t dare open your eyes until Genya sighed and gently tapped the back of your head, “He’s not here, it’s okay.” She murmured and you slowly opened your eyes.

Another cry escaped your lips.

The next few days were absolutely miserable. You’d spent the first day and half in your room, and when Genya wasn’t waiting on you, you were alone. Aleksander didn’t come to see you once, and you came to accept that it was just going to be your new normal.

The first time you emerged from your bedroom in days was for dinner, and Genya held you tight to her side as she walked with you down to the dining hall. Normally, she didn’t eat with the other Grisha, but she had neglected many of her duties to the Queen to take care of you for the past two days.

Now, three days had passed since you had last seen- or heard, rather- Aleksander, and you sat out in the courtyard on the grass with Genya. The red haired girl had insisted that you needed sunlight and she sat and read under a tree with you while you laid your head in her lap. You could hardly speak, and when you did, your voice was raspy and quiet. Every now and then, the girl would look over her book to check on you, and each time she did, she’d give you a kind smile.

“Are you hungry?” She asked after a while and brought her hand up to your forehead to feel for your temperature.

You shook your head weakly and rubbed your cheek with the back of your hand, “I don’t have an appetite, admittedly.” You murmured and she clicked her tongue, but didn’t press the subject.

You tried your best to enjoy the cool breeze on your feverish cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to distract yourself from the pounding in your head and the raw burn in your throat.

“What are you reading?” You asked Genya absentmindedly and she hummed.

“Reading up on rare diseases. I found a few books that have information about sicknesses and accounts of Grisha becoming ill with certain ones. I thought maybe it would help us figure out what’s going on with you.” She stated and turned a page as if on cue.

A warm feeling tickled your nose and you felt it travel downwards until your skin was wet and you gasped and let out a curse. You sat up quickly and held your hand over your nose as it bled and you glanced down at the little bloody spot on Genya’s kefta.

“Saints. I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess.” You breathed and cupped your hands underneath your nose to catch the rapidly flowing blood.

The girl simply shook her head and pulled handkerchief out of her pocket and passed it to you, “Don’t be sorry. We can get the stain out easily.” She insisted, and you gratefully took the handkerchief from her and held it against your nose.

“Perhaps we should get you inside?” She suggested and you nodded once. You grabbed onto the tree with your free hand and balanced yourself as you rose to your feet. You felt winded as you stood and your throat began to prickle and you let out a groan that was cut short when you leaned forward and coughed viciously into the sleeve of your kefta. Little petals spewed out of your mouth as you coughed and got stuck with your blood onto the fabric of your sleeve, but you weren’t surprised anymore. Thorns and petals came along with the coughs now. At least now your nose had ceased its bleeding. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve and groaned in pain as you felt Genya touch your back.

“Oh, Saints. Hurry. Let’s go inside. The Darkling is out here.” She said in a hushed tone, and though you two tried to hurry into the palace, it seemed you weren’t fast enough, because Aleksander called your name.

You looked up at Genya worriedly and she took a glance at your face. Blood was smeared under your nose and on your chin and she let out a huff before she snatched the handkerchief from your hand and quickly cleaned up your face. She stuffed the soiled fabric into her pocket once more and you turned around just in time to see Aleksander approach you with Alina not far behind.

His kefta billowed like smoke behind him in the breeze and when he reached you, his face was nothing short of irritated and accusatory. His beautiful face was set in an angry grimace and his eyes were hard. You shied back slightly and felt Genya’s hand press encouragingly into your back.

“It must be rather fun ignoring me, since you’ve done it flawlessly for three days now.” He snapped and you looked down at your feet, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“I haven’t felt well, I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

He snorted and reached out to grab your jaw, tilting your face up so that he could look down upon you, “That’s not an excuse. I don’t expect you to be prancing and frolicking around, but as someone who cares about you, I would at least like to be updated about your state.”

His words sent a shockwave of sadness through your chest and you frowned, your eyes watering. You blinked away your tears rapidly, refusing to cry in front of him and Alina. He let go of your face slowly and he shook his head.

“My dear, I worry about you, that’s all. I’m not truly angry, oh please don’t cry.” He said softly, his expression ridding itself of all anger as he watched your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

You shifted your gaze over his shoulder and watched as Alina gently grabbed his arm and he subtly pulled her into his side. The action had you biting down on your cheek hard, a terrible cough fighting its way up your throat. You felt something sharp rise to the back of your throat and you shoved past all three of them to get inside of the palace, holding your hands over your mouth as you raced to your bedroom.

You were unsure of how you held it in for so long, but as soon as you got to your room, a violent retching sound ripped it’s way up through your chest and your throat and you fell to your knees and a slew of blood and petals came spewing out of your mouth. The heavy, sharp presence was still in the back of your throat and you coughed, and coughed, and coughed until you felt something shred the back of your throat and come loose. A rosebud tumbled from behind your lips, followed by a thick mixture of blood and saliva. You stared down at the sticky, bloody mess you had made all over your pale blue rug and you brought your shaky hands up to your clammy face, covering your mouth as you sobbed.

Your chest ached and burned as if you’d swallowed blades and you let out a shrill scream of frustration. You sunk down onto the floor even further and curled up into a ball, your cheek resting a bit too close to the sticky puddle of blood and floral matter. You were too exhausted to care. Everything hurt, nothing made sense. Every breath you took sent shards of glass sliding down your throat and you coughed again, bits of petals getting stuck to your bloodied lips. You slowly closed your eyes and shivered once, reaching down and holding your knees to your chest.

No one had followed you. Not even Aleksander. Even just thinking his name sent a pang of raw emotion through your chest and a few little tears rolled down your cheeks as you laid against the ruined carpets. Too busy with Alina. Too busy with everything. When did the busy excuses end? At what point did you need to accept that he didn’t love you as much as you loved him, and certainly not in the same way. You cursed yourself for thinking of him. Why were you thinking of him? He surely wasn’t thinking of you. You should have been thinking about why the hell you were sick.

But all you could think about was Aleksander.

You weren’t sure how or when, but at some point, you’d been moved up onto your bed and your blood-ruined dress had been switched out for a light, breathable nightgown. A hand dragged itself through your hair slowly and you almost thought you were imagining in your half-asleep state, until you heard voices.

“I don’t really care. I will remove someone from the frontlines if we must. I need a very, very good Healer and I need them promptly.”

You recognized Aleksander’s voice anywhere, and now that you were a bit more aware, you could tell that it was not Genya’s delicate little hand running through your hair.

It was his.

You kept your eyes closed and tried to enjoy the very minimally important action of his hand stroking your hair so gently.

“Then find someone. But I don’t think this is anything to worry about.”

That voice belonged to Genya, and you felt a sense of relief that she was still covering for you.

“Genya, do not give me excuses any longer. I know she is ill. To the extent and with what, I am unsure. But she is my dearest friend, and I will not be so easily deterred from finding a solution to her health.” He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to wake you and you felt your lip nearly wobble.

You didn’t know if you were joyful or devastated to hear him call you his friend. You longed for ignorance. You longed to think that he was here to confess his love for you, you wanted him to play with your hair like this for hours and hold you in his arms while you slept.

You wouldn’t get your wish, though.

“Sir, I think it would just be best to give her space.” Genya suggested quietly.

Aleksander’s hand stilled against your head and went rigid, “And why do you say that?” He asked coldly.

“Well, you just hardly… see her anymore. I think perhaps she’s a bit bothered by your neglect.”

“Has she told you this?”

“Yes.”

The room was silent and you wanted to sob as you felt his hand slowly leave your hair. You wanted to catch his wrist and bring it back, beg him to never let you go.

“Well, she always has been a bit of a jealous little thing. She’ll get over it. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow sometime.” He said dismissively and you felt the bed move and assumed he had climbed off of it.

You waited until you heard him leave to open your eyes and you let out a long, ragged sigh. You felt the bed dip beside you and Genya was placing her hand against your forehead. She let out a little hum and then shook her head.

“You’re very lucky I managed to clean everything up before he came barging in here.” She said softly and reached down to grab your hand.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you blinked them away, shrugging.

“At some point we need to tell him what’s going on, Y/n.” She urged gently and then squeezed your hand as softly as possible.

You felt a little wave of gratefulness in your chest at Genya’s determined and dedicated presence and you squeezed her hand back, “Eventually.” You murmured and then closed your eyes again, still feeling exhausted.

“You sound terrible.” She noted and sat up against the headboard, resting her back against it. You very slowly rolled over and laid your head against her thigh and you sighed.

“You’re my best friend, Genya.” You murmured.

She let out a little sigh and she laid her hand on top of your head, “You really love him, don’t you?” She asked quietly.

You didn’t answer her at first. She knew the answer and so did you, but the moment you spoke it aloud, it became real and it became capable of ruining everything.

“Yes.” You finally answered in a squeak.

There was a silence that filled the air around the two of you and you felt her lean over the edge of the bed for a moment. When she settled back in her spot, she tapped your head very gently and cleared her throat.

“I found something. While you were sleeping.” She said almost nervously.

“What do you mean, ‘something’?” You asked and stared off at the wall ahead of you.

“I mean about your… condition.” She said quietly and you could hear her flipping through a book above you.

Finally, she laid the open book down in front of your face and you reached up with a shaking hand to grab it. You sat up slowly with a bit of her help and laid the book in your lap as you peered down at it. The pages were old and weathered but the drawings were clear as can be. Roses were sketched onto the page and you ran your fingers over the paper as you read the text next to it.

‘In extreme cases of unrequited love, the affected person will become sick with envy and begin to exhibit signs of serious illness…’

You blinked a few times and read through the recorded symptoms.

Every single one was something you were experiencing.

“No. Absolutely not.” You breathed and looked up at a frowning Genya.

“The symptoms are all there. This is what’s ailing you.” She said, her eyes growing watery.

“Genya-“

“I’ll spare you the heavy reading. There is no cure, not unless he confesses his true and honest love for you.”

You felt dread add itself to your already sore chest and you turned your head to look up at her.

“Oh.”

She brought her hands up and cupped your cheeks and she shook her head, “I swear, we won’t let you die. We will find a way. Me and Baghra, Saints, I’ll even tell Him-“

“You can’t tell him.” You whispered and looked up at her tearfully, “You have to swear to me that you will not tell him. Genya, I’m begging you. Let him just… let him be happy with his Sun Summoner. He’ll forget about me, he’s already beginning to.” You said and sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

Tears were falling down the redhead’s cheeks now and she shook her head, “No, this isn’t how it ends.” She said sternly and wiped her own eyes with the backs of her hands after she lowered them from your face.

You leaned your head against her shoulder and closed your eyes, “I’m so tired.” You whispered, feeling exhaustion course through your body at a rapid rate.

“Sleep, sweetheart. Please. I’ll stay here with you until morning.” Genya promised and you nodded.

She helped you lay back onto the pillow behind you and she tucked the comforter around your shoulders before feeling your forehead once again.

“Thank you for being so good to me.” You whispered and she gave you a heartbreakingly sad smile.

“What are friends for?”

The next morning was excruciating. A terrible coughing fit roused you from your sleep and you’d- yet again- made a bloody, flowery mess all over. This time, you helped Genya clean the mess up despite her protests. Once she’d helped you clean up, she announced that she had a hot bath drawn for you.

You followed her into your bathroom and pulled your clothes off before you stepped into the hot water and let out a long, relieved sigh as you sunk down into it and sat.

“I need to go tend to the Queen for a little while. I shouldn’t be too long. Will you be okay if I leave for just a few hours? If you need anything, I’ve already informed Baghra of your condition, you can go find her.” She explained and then gave you a little smile.

“You’ve been busy this morning.” You commented and she shrugged.

“Well, I’m just making sure you’ll be alright while we figure this all out.” She said softly and patted your head a few times, “Well, off I go. Please, please be careful. And if you have a coughing fit, do it over the tub. We can drain the water easily.” She said, half joking.

You bid her farewell and she left your room and you sank deeper into the water, letting it soothe your sore muscles, though it didn’t do much for your stinging throat and aching chest. You brought a hand to your forehead and you felt a wave of melancholia drag you down.

There was really no way that you were going to get out of this alive. It wasn’t like Aleksander was going to burst in on his knees and confess that he’d loved you the entire time, and you highly doubted that if a Healer couldn’t help you, then you were beyond help. You rubbed your temples very slowly and let out a very long, exasperated sigh, which triggered a few coughs. Little droplets of blood flew forward into the water from your mouth and you winced as a few petals loosed themselves from your throat as well. They floated atop the hot water and you picked one of the soft, pink petals up tentatively. It looked like a rose petal. It was a rose petal. You were grateful that it was only a few soft petals this time rather than the thorns and stems you’d cough up other times. You dropped the petal back in the water and you laid your head back against the edge of the bathtub weakly.

Your chin wobbled slightly and you closed your eyes just as tears started to stream out of them. You soundlessly cried as you sat in the steaming water and you reached up to hold your hands over your face as you cried. Soon enough, your cries were no longer soundless and you sobbed into your hands. Your whole entire body hurt and you were in agony. Emotional and physical agony. You wished for it all to stop and you pulled your hands away from your face and gripped the edges of the tub as you continued to cry with your eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Your mind wandered to Aleksander, something it often did, and you gasped painfully. You could practically feel his fingers running through your hair again, and you pictured what it would have been like if he had gathered you in his slender arms instead of just messing with your hair. The thought brought you a split second of comfort before it brought on waves of pain, crashing against your chest like rogue waves in a tumultuous ocean.

Oh, you loved him. You couldn’t just stop loving him. Even though you sat and wished so desperately that you could. You gripped the edges of the tub impossibly tight and sputtered out a few heavy coughs that left your chest feeling split open. Your bathwater was tinged pink now and there was an arrangement of fragmented and full rose petals floating around in the water.

A little tap made you open your eyes and you looked up to see Aleksander standing in the doorway of your bathroom. You made a move to cover yourself but he simply shook his head.

“I’m not looking, it’s okay.” He stated, staying in the doorway.

You glanced away from him sadly and you gave him a nod. You heard his boots tap against the marble floor and you heard a bit of rustling before you turned your head towards him again to see that he was now kneeling at the side of your tub.

“You look terrible. Really, really terrible.” He commented.

“Thanks. You really know how to make someone feel great, Aleksander.” You snapped and narrowed your eyes at him.

He let out a sigh and shook his head a few times, “You’re still lovely. You just look miserable. Have you looked in a mirror recently? You look malnourished, you look poorly rested. Your face is sunken, your eyes are lifeless, you look terrible.” He explained and you laid your head down on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll be fine.” You said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, you all keep trying to tell me that but I don’t believe it all that much. Look at you. You can’t even move without it looking like it’s causing you pain.”

“What do you care?” You asked and closed your eyes, biting back a sob.

“What do I care? What do I care? Are you an imbecile? I care more than you seem to even care to imagine!” He snapped angrily and stood up abruptly.

“Whatever. I know you’d rather be with your Sun Summoner right now. Please just go.”

“Saints, you’re such a bitter thing! You knew what the Sun Summoner coming here would mean. You know what it does mean. Get over yourself, this is bigger than you and your need for attention!” He exclaimed.

Though he hadn’t, you felt as if he’d lifted you to your feet and slapped you until you fell. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him. Your eyes grew glossy with tears and you bit down on your cheek before you shifted your eyes away from a seething Aleksander.

“Please just go away.” You whimpered and brought your hands up to your face, hiding it from his sight.

You cried silently for a moment and you rubbed your eyes vigorously before lifting your head out of your hands to tell him once more to leave.

But he was already gone.

The week leading up to the winter fete was exhausting.

Not that you had been doing much other than laying around in your room and taking brief walks whenever Genya had a moment to accompany you outside.

Nothing had improved though.

You were still weak, still coughing, still in pain. Nothing was better, in fact, it seemed to only worsen by the day.

The day of the fete was upon you and you had argued with Genya for nearly two hours so that she’d let you go. Finally, she had conceded and told you that you could go as long as you left early and were very, very careful not to cough around anyone.

“And if you start feeling worse, you’re going right back to bed. Do you understand me?” Genya asked critically as she held a big, white box to her chest. Your dress. She was holding it hostage until you agreed to her terms.

“Yes, fine, anything! I’ve waited so long to go.” You weren’t sure why you were so excited to go to the fete. You had previously been excited to go because you’d be going with Aleksander, but of course, that wasn’t the case now. You hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. Genya told you he’d been in to check on you while you slept, but you doubted it. You doubted a lot when it came to Aleksander these last seven days.

Genya set the box down on a small table near the fireplace in your room and she opened it up, humming softly to herself as she did, “Pink? I didn’t pin you as a pink girl.”

“Well, I am one. And it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You asked and watched as she pulled the gown out from the box.

It was beautiful. It was a pale shade of blush pink with long sleeves and lots of beautiful embroidery and bead work. The dress earned you an approving sound from Genya and she looked over at you as you sat on the edge of your bed.

“It is pretty, yes. I’m a bit worried you’ll stain it.” She said and eyed you with a frown, “Are you sure you want to go? You’re still so sick. Worse, even.” She said with a frown as she walked towards you and laid the dress out on the bed at your side.

“I want to go. We can go together. Besides, I’ve been stuck in here for so long now.” You said, sighing dramatically. Your throat burned with your sigh and Genya watched as you brought your fingers to your throat.

She quickly grabbed the waste bin next to your bed and held it up to you and you grabbed it. You coughed over it painfully for a few minutes, an array of petals and a few small thorns freeing themselves from your inflicted lungs. Genya held her hand against your back comfortingly and waited for you to spit the last of the sticky blood out and then she gently took the waste bin from your hands. She passed you a glass of water from your bedside table and you sipped it, even though it felt like you were swallowing broken glass.

“Y/n, you look awful.” Genya said sadly and pushed some of your limp hair away from your face.

You knew she was right. Your entire face had sunken in and you were aware of the dark circles under your eyes. Any luster your hair or skin once had was now gone and you looked dull and lifeless. You looked almost like a walking corpse. Your nails were thin and brittle and your lips were chapped and had traces of dried blood on them. You did look awful.

Realistically, you could use your abilities and make yourself look better, but you had absolutely no energy to do so. You were lucky if you had the energy to get up and take a walk with Genya. You sighed quietly and wiped your lips with the back of your hand and shrugged once. You shakily passed the glass of water back to Genya and you rubbed your eyes.

“Will you help me get ready? Nothing fancy, I just don’t wanna look so unhealthy.” You asked quietly and she nodded a couple of times.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and then offered her hands down towards you. You accepted them gratefully and pulled yourself to your feet with her help and she passed you your dress.

“Go change, I’ll help you button up.” She prompted and you took the dress from her and wandered off towards the dressing screen in the corner of your room.

You slid behind it and undressed yourself with weak, shaking hands, and you pushed your nightdress off of your body. You tossed it aside and then took on the next task of stepping into the soft pink gown. You climbed into the dress clumsily and once you’d pulled the sleeves on and gotten it situated on your body, you wandered out from behind the screen. Genya awaited you by your bed and you made your way over to her and turned around so that the undone back of your dress faced her.

“You need to promise me one more thing.” Genya said quietly as she began to button up your dress nimbly.

“What is it?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder at the redheaded girl.

“Avoid the Darkling at all costs tonight please. Your condition worsens after he’s around, I’ve seen it. Please just, don’t seek him out, stay away from him. Have fun, mingle, have a drink, but leave him alone. For your sake, please.” She begged softly and then finished buttoning your dress.

You nodded compliantly and you ran your hands down the front of your dress, smoothing it all down before turning around to face her. You smiled up at her and she pointed at a chair in the middle of the room.

“Sit. I’ll fix up your hair and make you look a little less tired.” She said softly and you walked towards the chair. You sat down in it and you closed your eyes, a prickling becoming bothersome at the back of your throat. You swallowed it down and winced at the sharp pain sliding back down your throat.

You just had to get through tonight.

Genya stood behind you and she worked at your hair for a while until it was in simple waves. She then walked around to face you and she determinedly waved her hand over your face a few times slowly. After nearly fifteen minutes of this, she pulled away from you and handed you a hand mirror.

“I did all that I could. How do you feel about it?” She asked.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hummed. Though you still looked frail, you didn’t look nearly even half as bad as you had beforehand. You looked as if perhaps you hadn't slept in a few days but otherwise you seemed healthy. You looked up at her with a smile and you nodded, passing the mirror back to her.

“Thank you. Truly, thank you.” You said softly and she gave you a sweet smile in return and kissed the top of your head.

“I have to help the Queen get ready. Will you wait for me? I’ll come back and accompany you to the party.”

You looked over at her and gave her a little nod and stood up from the chair you sat in. You gave your friend a little hug and she hugged you back delicately, as if she was afraid you’d break.

“Thank you. Really, Genya. For everything.”

“Don’t start talking like that. It almost sounds like goodbye and I won’t have it. I’ll see you in an hour or two.” She stated and then marched out of your room.

Goodbye. You scoffed. You didn’t even want to think about goodbye yet.

But of course now you were faced with the reality of it all. There was no obtainable cure to your ailment. The thought of it spread dread through your body like you’d never felt before and you felt even sicker than you ever had prior to today.

A particular wave of nausea had you sprinting to the waste bin by your bed and you dropped to your knees and retched into it, your throat getting sliced up with an especially sharp slew of blood and thorns and a few battered petals. The door behind you opened and you heard a gasp from the doorway and wiped your face with the back of your hand before you turned around.

Still on your knees, you looked up to see Aleksander’s personal favorite Healer, Emilia, standing in the doorway. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before she walked towards you and gently helped you to your feet. She looked over your shoulder into the wastebasket and then she looked up at your face, her mouth making a little ‘o’. She glanced back in the bin and then she shook her head.

“Are those…?”

“Yes. They’re petals. Why are you here?” You asked and slowly sat down on the edge of your bed.

“The Darkling sent me to check on you.” She whispered and then she placed her hand on your head, feeling your temperature.

“Genya is doing a fine job on her own, thank you, Emilia.” You wheezed and then leaned your head into your hands.

She stayed put for a moment and looked back and forth between you and your bloody, flowery vomit and then she gave you a tedious nod, “Yes, okay. I’m sorry to have intruded.“ she said quietly and you gave her only a small hum in response before she scuttled out of the room, retreating as if you were some feral dog, before you could even think to stop her. You would have certainly been wise to.

You glanced at the door and felt a cold, sick dread fill your stomach. She was going to tell Aleksander.

You sat, slumped, in the chair by your fireplace and you closed your eyes, letting out labored breaths. Your chest had become impossibly tight and you sat in fear that Aleksander would burst in and berate you at any moment now.

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought of just Aleksander and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It wasn’t like you couldn’t miss him. He was, at the end of the day, your best friend. Or at least, he had been. You didn’t really know where you stood with him now.

Panic gripped your lungs when you heard hurried footsteps down the hallway and when the door swung open you winced. No yelling ensued and you turned around to see Genya standing in the doorway, gazing over at you with a little frown.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” She asked softly as she strode towards you.

You simply gave her a little nod and you rose to your feet off of the chair and grabbed onto the hand she was now extending for you. She helped you steady yourself and she frowned once, pulling you into a gentle side hug.

“Okay. The party has already started, I hope you don’t mind. There was a… choreographed display. Of shadow and light.” She explained slowly and then glanced down at you. You knew who she was talking about. Aleksander and Alina.

She gave you a sympathetic smile and you realized your face must have fallen, “I just figured you didn’t want to have to watch them.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thank you, Genya.” You said quietly and then nodded towards the door, “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out long tonight, I don’t think.” You murmured, a frown ever present on your face.

She nodded just once and whisked you out of your room. The walk from the Little Palace to the Grand Palace was made in comfortable silence and you leaned your head against Genya’s shoulder. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and gently patted your arm, and you let out a small sigh. As soon as the two of you walked inside of the Grand Palace, you instantly regretted coming to the fete.

People were crowded around the hallway and spilled out from the room of the event, leaving you hardly any space to breathe. You wrapped both of your arms around Genya’s and you nearly buckled under the wave of nausea that crashed over you.

Genya slowly pulled away from your side and she grabbed your hand and nodded towards the grand hall, “I’m going to go get a drink. Would you like one?” You nodded idly and she gave your hand a little squeeze, “Okay. Stay here. Don’t get around too many people.” She advised and you nodded again.

She scurried off hurriedly down the hall and you looked down at your dress. You ran your fingers down the embroidered bodice and you let out a little sigh. You sorely regretted not staying in bed and you looked around at the other partygoers. Some were drunk, others were just boisterous. Most hid their sordidness underneath fine clothes and expensive perfumes. You looked down at your feet and felt guilty for making Genya drag you to the party and you turned to go find her.

“Y/n!”

You turned around to see Alina bustling towards you with two guards in tow behind her. You had to blink back the urge to cry when you saw her. She wore a black kefta with yellow and gold embroidery and her hair was done up beautifully. The nausea hit you harder and you held your hand over your stomach instinctively, giving her a terse smile.

“Hello.” You breathed and leaned back up against the wall behind you.

“You look beautiful.” She commented sweetly, “Feeling better?” She asked and you gave her a bleary nod.

“Mhm, so much better.” You mumbled and sucked in a deep breath through your nose. A sharp feeling began to climb the back of your throat and you began to panic.

“I’m glad to hear, you look so pretty. I’ve missed you readying me.” She admitted and then chuckled nervously.

One of the guards leaned forward and mumbled something in her ear and she frowned, but nodded.

“I have to get going. But please, come see me tomorrow.” She pleaded and you gave her a simple nod, your throat and chest beginning to ache and burn all the same.

The guards urged her forward and everything began to sound as if you were underwater. You stared off absentmindedly after Alina and frowned deeply. Aleksander strode down the hall towards her and his eyes fell upon you. His stern expression seemed to falter a bit when he looked at you and you glanced down at the bundle of flowers he had in his hands. Your eyes filled with tears involuntarily and you watched as he stopped the guards that stood with Alina and he passed her the flowers before he locked eyes with you again.

Your face burned with shame and sadness and your vision began to blur and shift and you pushed away from the wall dizzily, ignoring the muffled shouts of your name coming from his mouth. You shoved past a few people and gathered the skirts of your dress up in one hand and you rushed down the hallway. You stopped briefly a few times to steady yourself against the wall and you felt a sickening pressure at the back of your throat. You just had to make it back to your room.

You carried on almost deliriously and you made your way into the nearly totally empty Little Palace. You bustled up the stairs with your hand over your mouth when a sharp cough ripped its way up your throat and you heaved forward, falling to your knees on the stairs as you coughed violently. Tears burned in your eyes and fell down your cheeks helplessly as you spewed the hot, metallic mixture of your blood and bile over your gloved hand. You crawled up the stairs weakly and you pushed yourself to your feet, leaving a bloody smear on the marble floor. You stumbled hurriedly down the hall to your room and you threw your door open as soon as you could. You fell to your knees again and let out a long, sad wail before you were coughing out thorns and petals all over the pristine skirt of your dress.

The flowery vomit looked even worse tonight, and the blood mixed in with it was darker and there was much more of it. You coughed and heaved and choked on whatever was in your throat until an entire rose bloom came hurtling out of your mouth. You stared down at it shakily and reached out to touch it before you coughed again, much harder this time. Blood flew from your open mouth all over your carpet and your dress and your chin and you cried loudly, lowering yourself to the floor weakly. You reached up shakily to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and you looked around at the bloody mess you had made and you whimpered.

You thought about Aleksander again as you coughed more, your chest feeling as if it was going to collapse at any moment. You missed him. You desperately wished it was you that he gave his affections to. You loved him. It became impossibly hard to breathe and you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you could swear you heard him calling out for you; Something so bittersweet that brought you so much comfort as you laid in a mess of your own blood and shredded flower petals. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel cold exhaustion climbing up around your mind. You could still hear his voice, closer now. You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but at least you could try and make peace with it. You drew in a labored breath and then found yourself gasping in fear as you felt two hands grip your arms.

You were yanked up against somebody and you slowly looked upwards to see Aleksander kneeling over you, holding you against his chest.

“Say something, dammit!” He ordered, but his voice sounded far away.

You tried to speak his name but your chest seemed to collapse in on itself and you turned your head to cough away from him, not wanting to get any blood on him. As soon as you finished coughing, he gripped your chin and turned your head towards his and he stared down at you wildly.

“Y/n, I really, really need you to say something.” He pleaded and you weren’t sure if you were imagining the glint of unshed tears in his eyes or not.

You let out another wail and you tried to push away from him, but his arms were like steel around you and you were too weak to even attempt to get away from him, so you resigned to crying in his arms.

“Aleksander.” You wheezed and weakly grabbed onto the lapel of his kefta.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” He demanded and cradled you gently against his chest.

“You don’t care!” You cried, finding your very, very weak voice suddenly.

“I do care!”

“You don’t! You just care about Alina, you want Alina, you need Alina, you’re in love with Alina. You don’t care, and I don’t expect you to. Why should you? It’s my own miserable fault for falling in love with you.” You sobbed and felt as if you were going to vomit again.

Aleksander didn’t say a single word. Instead, he leaned down until his forehead was touching yours and he nudged his nose against yours just slightly. You fought to get away from him, but he didn’t allow you to move. He shushed you softly as you cried and attempted to get as far away from him as possible and you sobbed, grabbing at his wrists.

“Stop! Please just leave me alone! I can’t take this.” You cried and hit his chest, but he still didn’t move.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled and eventually stopped trying to get away from him. He seemed to want to make it hard for you until your bitter end. One of his hands was gently moving through your hair as it had many nights ago and you whimpered, a sound that broke his heart.

“I care. More than you know, little love.” He murmured and kept his forehead pressed against yours, “You think I don’t care? How could I not? You are so special to me.”

You cried and subconsciously leaned into his touch as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Please stop.” You begged. You wanted to cover your ears.

“Stop what? Do you not want to hear how I care? How I feel ashamed of myself for making you feel as if I don’t? Do you not want to hear about how in love with you I am?” He asked in a whisper and you froze. His hand continued to sweep through your hair and you let out a loud cry and struggled against his arms as he lifted his forehead away from yours.

“You’re lying.” You sobbed and brought your hands up to your face as you cried into them.

“I’d never lie to you about something like this.” He insisted softly.

“You are lying.”

“How can you accuse me of that?” He asked, his tone incredulous.

“Because I’m dying! I’m dying and you know it’s what I want to hear!” You argued, but you let your head fall against his chest nonetheless.

“I don’t lie. I’ve never lied to you. Saints, you’re inconsolable. I have my own reasons for getting close to Alina, but none of them are even close to being because I’m in love with her. No, my love is saved for you and you alone.” He murmured, “I have loved you for years. Ages. For so long, hoping and praying that perhaps you’d see me in the same light one day. I never wished for it to be like this.” He finished, voice breaking just slightly at the end.

You felt the tightness in your chest ease up just a little bit and you pulled your head away from his chest so that you could look up at him, only to find him already gazing down at you. You studied his face for any sign that he might be lying to you and when you found none you leaned your head against the side of his arm. You weakly nuzzled your cheek against it and you could hear him let out a long sigh.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong with you? Or are you just going to leave that to my Healer relaying information to me?” He asked and you shrugged once, more pressure leaving your chest.

You let out a pathetic sounding sigh and you clung to him as if someone was going to take him from you and you quietly began to explain your condition to him, leaving little to nothing out. When you finished, the silence around the two of you was painful and you looked up at his face. He seemed angry and he seemed as if he was going to cry, but he looked down and met your eyes, and everything on his face melted into sadness.

“I did this to you?” He asked quietly and you shook your head.

“You couldn’t possibly have known. I mean, I didn’t. None of us did until Genya found it in a book.” You murmured and he gathered you entirely against his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry.” He breathed, his voice practically trembling.

“No, please. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, everything is okay now.” You said hoarsely and he shook his head once but didn’t argue further.

He stayed quiet for a moment before he sniffled and then slowly rose to his feet, pulling you with him, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? And then you can lay in my room.” He suggested quietly.

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning against him entirely.

You sat in Aleksander’s bed an hour or two later, wrapped in a few thick blankets. You watched him scurry around his room as he tried to ready himself for bed and you smiled affectionately. After a moment he turned to you and let out a small sigh.

“What are you smiling at? You should be sleeping.”

“Can’t. Not without you.” You murmured and he blew out a few candles in the room before he came and crawled into bed next to you, his arms snaking around your waist. He tugged you against his chest protectively and he let out a long sigh.

Your damp hair was splayed out over the pillow behind your head and you pushed it away from him, clearing a little space for his head on your pillow. He took the hint and scooted his face closer to yours and he nudged his nose against yours a few times.

“You looked so beautiful tonight. In the hallway. In your pretty dress. I think pink might be your color now.” He said sweetly and you shook your head, leaning in to peck his lips a few times.

He took the opportunity to capture your lips in a deep, long kiss and finally when the two of you were properly breathless, you pulled away and shook your head.

“Forget pink. Black looks nicer on me, anyway .”

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling imagine #the darkling #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone imagine #grishaverse #shadow and bone #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

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amsgrey · 1 year

Text

he just sounds like that

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader (established relationship)

synopsis: Arrogance has no place on a job, but you let it lower your guard. You pay the price, but Kaz helps bring you back.

I kind of like merging Book/Show Kaz and trying to keep accurate to his mannerisms and humour etc so hopefully this is good. I came about this idea after thinking about this scene from TLOU and how Kaz most definitely had an asshole voice. Also, I will probably make a few parts/drabbles about Kaz x Inferni Reader, because I love Kaz no apologies.

Warnings: Mentions of Slavery, reader reliving her time as a slave (briefly), Mentions of scars of wrists from slavery chains etc, A fumbley understanding of the technology of the time and inferni powers (it's been so long since I read the books)

Getting split from the other crows was distressing, but there was nothing you could do about that now. You and Kaz just had to keep going, trying to work your way back to the rendezvous point.

"Tell me again why you thought this would work," You hissed to Kaz, who had been leading you in a circle for what felt like forever.

Kaz gave you an irritated glare, "It did work."

You scoffed, "Yeah, that's why we're lost in this saints forsaken mansion."

Kaz let out an exasperated sigh, "Are you done?"

You and Kaz had known each other for years, the entire time you'd known each other you bantered like this. Kaz would act all irritated and stern, but you knew he silently liked the way you could relieve tension and make even him crack a smile. As the only two Crows born and raised in the farmlands of Kerch, you shared a different connection. You had found each other before The Barrel knew Kaz as the force he was now. Kaz had saved you from Slavers and convinced you to join the Dregs, helping you find a life without fear.

Since then, you followed him through everything, which at this current moment, meant even through the merchant's maze of a mansion. Nina, Matthias and Wylan were somewhere outside, waiting for you, Kaz, Inej and Jesper to get what you were after and meet them. You wondered if they would be growing impatient yet, you were late, which almost never happened on a job with Kaz.

The job had started off as most others, breaking in was always the easy part. You had been privy to Kaz's plans, watching him study a map of the mansion for weeks before he committed to the job. He knew the place like the back of his hand, but he didn't know the extent of the new security measures the merch had introduced.

You and Jesper dawdled behind Inej and Kaz as they led the group through the halls. Occasionally Jesper would pause at a painting or display piece and make comments about its ugliness or stupidity.

The last painting he'd criticized was of an older man, dressed in a bright blue kefta with red embroidery. Jesper had caught your sleeve and pointed it out to you, "Looks like the merch has inferni ancestor."

You had screwed your nose up at the portrait, "I thought he was Kaelish?"

"He is," Kaz said, already at the end of the hall with Inej. He was waiting for the two of you to catch up, like a boy calling his dogs home.

Walking through the mansion felt surreal, mostly because you hadn't been to many places with such decadent displays of wealth. The four of you could move through the hallways unnoticed because the Merch and his family were out at the theatre - or whatever it was rich people did in Ketterdam on Sunday Nights. He had brought most of his guards and men with him, leaving the halls silent and unpatrolled. Kaz had called him an arrogant fool, to declare his mansion impenetrable and then take all his men out to prove it. There was no place able to keep out Dirtyhands, especially not when he had his crows by his side.

Thinking back on it you realized how you all had been too arrogant, thinking this job was in and out, easy. You'd let your guard down - something Kaz warned you to never do in this city - and now you were paying the price.

Everything went wrong when you and Kaz finally found what you were looking for - the merch's family jewel, a sapphire embedded in rich Kealish gold. You had easily broken through the fabrikator-made lock, it might have been made by a Grisha but it couldn't hold up against a Grisha. Especially not one who could melt metal with the same ease as cutting pastry. Kaz had reached for the jewels, as soon as he lifted it off the display the room filled with an ominous hum. Like the sound of a machine slowly whirring to life.

Kaz had pocketed the jewels, grabbing your forearm and tugging you along behind him as he went for the door Jesper and Inej were guarding. Before you could make it metal bars slid down over the doorway. You had tried to use your small science to melt the metal, even Jesper tried to budge it, but nothing worked. Kaz ordered Inej and Jesper to find their own way out as alarms chimed, directing you back through the room to another exit.

You had followed behind him willingly, knowing he knew the way around the mansion. You'd been irritated to learn how wrong you were, Kaz knew the layout of the mansion but the Merch had updated the floorplan. Clearly, another Fabrikator addition to hinder thieves.

"Wait," Kaz held up his hand and you barrelled straight into his back at the sudden halt, "Do you hear that?"

Footsteps.

"Back," Kaz whispered, ushering you back the way you had come.

You got to the end of the hall before you heard more bodies approaching, you were surrounded. Immediately you went to the window, trying to pull at the latch and open it. It didn't work, but you could see light dancing on the tree line.

"Kaz," You called, "Look."

You both squinted into the dark, trying to distinguish who it was in the woods. You saw the glint of steel, like someone was spinning a revolver.

"It's Jesper."

The footsteps were getting louder, there was no way you and Kaz could get out of this on your own.

"Step back," You struck your flint, the sparks allowing you to create a ball of flame. You concentrated it as small as it would allow, pressing your palms against the window until cracks started forming. After a few more seconds the pane shattered, sending the shards falling to the ground below. You were on the second floor, even if you wanted to jump there was no way you and Kaz would be able to land safely. You settled for sending up a burst of flames, Jesper and the others would be on the lookout for it, your SOS symbol.

"Stop!" Someone shouted and all hell broke loose.

You and Kaz fought well side by side, you both knew each other's moves, working in tandem to take down opponents. It looked like you might win for a little while, then a woman rounded the corner with her hands pressed together. Heartrender, you realized it too late.

You were woken suddenly, like your heart was all of a sudden coming back to life. You gasped and spluttered, lungs burning. Your hands were bound above your head, separated by a thick metal rod so that you couldn't summon. Already you could feel the ache in your shoulders, hanging from your arms was something you had been used to when you were a slave. Now, you had to fight back the panic that tried to grip your heart.

You struggled to find your footing for a moment, but eventually managed to stand up enough to take the strain off of your wrists.

Kaz.

Where was Kaz?

"Look, Brekker. Your girls fine."

You squinted to find where the voice was coming from, finding the source across the room. Kaz was standing opposite a burly man nearly a foot taller than him. Kaz's face was bloody and bruised, but he had murder in his eyes. You could see it, feel it, all the way across the room. You realized it wasn't just Kaz and the merchant; the other crows were there too. Inej held a blade against the heartrenders throat from earlier, who had both her hands held far apart to show her cooperation. Jesper was not too far away, his pistols in hand as he stared down a man who stood in between you and him.

What did I miss?

"No harm was done," The merchant continued, his voice thick with a Kaelish accent, "What do you say we part ways, unharmed."

Kaz's face didn't change, "Sure."

The Merchant frowned, a glimpse of fear breaking through his resolve, "I don't like your tone, boy."

"He always sounds like that," Jesper joked, glancing at you.

"He has an asshole voice," You agreed. Not two nights ago you and Jesper had been saying the same thing to Matthias at the Slat. You and Jesper enjoyed teasing the Fjerdan, especially regarding Kaz and his 'demjin' ways.

Kaz looked amused, he had the Merchant in the palm of his hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."

The Merchant almost tripped as he ran away, not even stopping for his Heartrender and right-hand man who followed behind him just as quick.

With the immediate threat gone, you felt your resolve begin to crumble. You had to get out of these chains. They would rub your wrists every time you moved, bringing you straight back to your past.

"Stop moving," An older woman had warned you, "It hurts less."

She was probably right, but you were too terrified to listen. Hours ago you were playing on your family's farm, but now you were chained to the roof in a dark, damp cellar. The chains were rusted and coarse, they rubbed the skin around your wrists raw, leaving cuts and grazes everywhere they pressed.

You were only eight, by far the youngest of all the slaves in the cellar. The chains they used to bind you didn't have cuffs, the slavers had just looped the links around your wrists and locked them tight. All you felt was the pain and the fear. All of this because you were Grisha? You only just learned of your power as an Inferni, how could you be worth anything?

The older woman tried to console you, doing her best to quell your tears and sobs, but even she knew the horrors that awaited you. The horrors you would spend years fighting to escape.

"Y/N," Kaz's voice was soft, he stood in front of you, supporting your weight as Jesper worked on freeing your hands from the chains. "Stay here."

You knew he was trying, you could see his own emotions clawing at him. It was one of the things that bound you and Kaz together, the demons of your past. You understood what it was like to fear touch and he understood what it was like to be betrayed. You helped each other, through the flashbacks and nightmares. You two didn't have anyone else, so you fought to have each other.

When Jesper finally broke through the chains, you lurched forward unexpectedly. Kaz held you tighter, trying to keep you upright even with his bad leg. You stood up, holding your hands out to balance yourself.

'I'm okay," You lied, trying to avoid Jesper and Inej's worried glances, "We should get out of here."

Back at the Slat, you sat staring at your cup of cocoa. Nina had made it for you as her way of trying to help, she could hear that your heartbeat hadn't stopped racing since leaving the job.

Jesper and Wylan had offered you gentle conversation, but you couldn't hold it for long. You had claimed you were tired, bidding your friends goodnight and climbing the stairs to your room. You didn't stop at your floor. Your feet carried you further up the steep stairs, stopping when you reached the attic which Kaz had converted into his own room. You didn't have to knock, you just opened the door and announced yourself.

Behind closed doors, Kaz was less concerned about keeping up his Dirtyhands persona. He smiled ever so slightly as you sat on his bed. A few months ago you had forced him to rearrange his room so that you could see him working while you lounged on his bed. You often ended up like this, watching him work after long days and taking comfort in each other's presence.

This time, Kaz wasn't concerned with his papers, he just looked at you, waiting for you to talk. You had talked Kaz through his own episodes many times, you never pushed him or asked him to move quicker than he was ready. For the first time, Kaz wanted to offer you the same comfort, but he wasn't sure if he could.

You were rubbing your wrists, stuck in your own memories of your time chained.

Kaz slowly joined you, giving you time to pull away. You glanced over at him, watching him as he slowly removed his gloves.

"Kaz-"

Kaz shook his head to silence you, continuing what he was doing. He placed his gloves neatly on the bedside table, turning to you. He reached out slowly and you let him. He gently pried your fingers away from your wrist, taking your hands in his own. He turned your palms up, his fingers slowly ghosting over the scars on your skin.

Kaz could feel the warmth of your skin through his fingertips. It helped him fight off the flashbacks, the warmth reminding him you were safe, healthy, alive.

Kaz's fingers traced over a scar on your right thumb. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips.

Kaz's head snapped up to look at you, fear filling his eyes.

"I'm okay," You meant it this time. The flashbacks were gone, locked in the vault in the back of your mind.

Kaz could tell that you meant it, see the anxiety leave your face. He drew his hands back, reaching for his gloves again. You smiled at him as he slipped his hands back into them, the leather bringing him the comfort he needed.

Kaz offered you a quiet apology.

"Kaz," You couldn't help the adoring smile on your face, "It's okay."

You knew Kaz could handle contact more when his gloves were on, so you gently took his hand. Kaz watched as you copied his movements from earlier, gently opening up his fingers. You slowly raised his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I love you," You said, "Gloves and all."

Kaz smiled, a genuine smile that you only saw in the safety of these four walls.

He let out a quiet reply, "I love you too."

1K notes · View notes

crowsoundsonly · 7 months

Text

Don't Stop

pair: the Darkling x fem!reader

word count: ~3k

summary: general kirigan discovers just how touch starved you are in a sparring session.

warnings: lite semi smut, essentially a thigh kink...., a touch of self-conscious reader with moments of poor self-esteem, kind of ooc!darkling at the end, but i'm not mad about it.

a/n: hej guys !! this is the first fic that i'm posting on this blog, so i hope you like it !!

You know you are not alone in your fascination with the Darkling, making the fact that you watch him more than you should more of a problem than it should be. You hear the whispers among the other Grisha about his appearance, his power, his mystery, and you can’t help but to fall into the trap. He never pays you any attention, and why should he? You never considered yourself the prettiest, the strongest, or the best, especially when it comes to the Small Science. Grisha you are, but exceptional you are not.

...

“Again,” Botkin calls to you, instructing you to run the training course around the courtyard and into the forest for the third time today. With only a nod, you obey and take off running, praying that this will be the final time.

You concentrate on your breathing, keeping it at a steady rhythm as you pass through the courtyard, glancing quickly at Botkin watching the other Grisha spar in the middle. The path into the forest is all too familiar, the ground becoming uneven with unearthed roots and rocks. You quickly slip into the world of your thoughts which is dangerously full of General Kirigan.

Lost in yourself, you fail to notice the ground becoming stone under your feet. You skim the shoulder of someone as you round the corner of the last hall before you return to Botkin at the start, sprinting the final stretch. Your combat instructor is waiting for you, his arms crossed before him, standing beside the Darkling himself.

Your heart seemingly beats faster; not due to the three mile run you just completed, but for fear and anticipation of what these men have in store for you. Halting before them, you quiet your breathing, willing your heart to slow down enough so you can get a word out without panting.

“This is her?” General Kirigan asks in a tone that can only be described as nonplussed, his eyes surveying you carefully.

“Yes, sir,” Botkin nods.

A hum, then a reply that makes you even more apprehensive than before, “She’ll do.”

“Do what?” you blurt, then recover yourself by finishing, “If I may ask.” You know you should hold your tongue, but the words are spoken before you can tie them down. Eyes expectantly watch the General as the corners of his lips twitch up slightly at your question.

“Fight.”

Before you can register the word, you are grabbed by the arm and led by General Kirigan to the sparring circle in the middle of the courtyard. Every sense you have is trained on the General’s hand on your body, on the grip he has around your arm. As quickly as you were snatched, you are released and left alone in the middle of the ring.

Luckily, many of the Grisha have already completed their training, so you are unhindered by too many eyes watching the commotion. Still, enough gather around to get your blood to sound in your ears. You stand, eyes darting around in an attempt to puzzle together what is happening to you.

“Who am I fighting, sir?” you ask tentatively.

A smirk pulls at the General’s mouth before he simply says, “Me.”

Your brain comes to a halt. Then goes into overdrive. You cannot possibly fight the Darkling, the most feared man in the country. You are a mediocre fighter at best who can barely fight Grisha of her own level. The Darkling is going to beat you to a pulp if he shows any self control.

General Kirigan humorously watches your panic as he shrugs off his kefta, seemingly enjoying the terrified look on your face. You take short breaths in an attempt to get your adrenaline pumping enough so the pain will be less intense. You have no doubt that the Darkling will land every harrowing jab he throws.

“Are you ready?” he asks with more intensity than you think necessary. A simple nod from you is enough for him to begin.

He approaches you quickly, immediately on the offense. A few quick lunges and carefully placed hits graze off of your defensive positions until the last blow of the round finds its place under your rib cage. Your heart hammers against your chest, your focus completely intent on shielding yourself from his attacks that come too swiftly to keep up.

General Kirigan begins stepping around you, his feet becoming involved with the spar, leaving you with another source of attacks to defend. You are successful at first but within three steps, you are grabbed by the waist and pinned to the ground, the Darkling holding you down with his thigh locked through yours. Your nose is pressed to his chest, breaths heaving in and out of your mouth.

You feel every place the Darkling touches you. The cool metal of his belt buckle brushes against the exposed strip of skin above your pants. One of his hands grips your wrists that scratch against the dirt above your head. His thigh presses the inside of yours, dangerously close to your core as his hips shift ever so slightly against your stomach. Your body responds involuntarily to the position, moving closer to his thigh before you regain control over yourself.

A small chuckle sounds from General Kirigan who stares at you from above.

“How long has it been since someone touched you like this?” he whispers before abruptly standing up, his knee grazing your core as he moves.

He reaches out a hand to assist you, and you take it, nerves igniting in your stomach as his hand grasps yours and pulls you off of the ground.

“Thank you,” you say quietly once you are on your feet.

“Thank you,” the General replies before bowing, whispering your name as he gathers his kefta and waves to Botkin.

You watch him leave in complete disbelief. He took you down with ease, so you should be much more embarrassed by that, but you are too possessed by the feeling of him to care.

...

You thought little of anything other than the moment you had had with General Kirigan. The reason Botkin had chosen you to spar with the Darkling when there were other, more impressive Grisha training at the same time you were has escaped you, and you doubt that you will ever understand. A repeat performance has not happened, and you don’t expect it to. Your life continues as usual, other than the occasional whisper about the fight muttered between Grisha over dinner plates.

...

Picking at the herring in front of you, you feel the hair at the back of your neck prickle, followed by goosebumps rippling over skin under your kefta. Your eyes dart from one face at the table to another, attempting to find the eyes that watch you. The effort is fruitless, and the feeling fades as quickly as you noticed it.

Subconsciously, you glance at the Darkling sitting at the head of the table. It is a luxury to see him at dinner as he is always far too busy to dine with the other Grisha. He sits tall, his features sharp yet bleary with disinterest. You wonder if he has always looked as he does now: a man who knows the world’s cruelty and the bitterness of time. His hand wrapped around his fork holds your stare as you recall the feeling of those same fingers around your wrists, imagining what they would feel like in other places. You catch yourself falling down the rabbit hole of General Kirigan, so you force the last few bites of fish down before sneaking away from the dinner table to bury your thoughts in the shelves of the library.

...

The Darkling watches you quietly excuse yourself from the table and slip into the hallway. He had been watching you during dinner, taking in the way you scrunch your nose at every forkful of herring and smile pleasantly after each bite. He felt your eyes find him as he sat, listening to his Grisha argue. You look at him a lot, no more than the other girls, surely, but the General has started to take notice of you everywhere. He finds you in the hallways, always bowing to him respectfully.

At night, for reasons unknown to him, he thinks of the way your body responded to his, how your hips sought out his thigh and the feeling of your breath erratically hitting his chest. No one has responded to him the way you have in a long time, and he thinks he wants to feel it again.

After dinner is through, he strides through the Little Palace, intent on escaping his duties for the night. He has had enough of the country’s and his Grishas’ troubles, so he heads to the stables for a late night ride alone. Swiftly moving down the hallway, he notices a thin stream of light spilling out from under a library door. Rarely do the Grisha study at this time of night, as they are usually causing trouble in efforts to impress their classmates. And if they are studying, it is never in this library - the small one that often smells of spores due to the age of the books that are somehow always damp.

He pauses for a moment, considering entering the room to find who is in there, but decides against it. He begins to walk away, only to stop after a few steps to satisfy his curiosity. Opening the door, he finds a form laying on the couch with the light dimly glowing from the candle in the corner. Whoever it is doesn't notice him as they do not move from their place.

General Kirigan walks further into the library and finds that it is you on the couch. The book you were reading is on the floor with its pages bent at awkward angles. You have your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, almost as if you were comforting yourself, providing yourself with the touch you crave from others.

The jab he made about being touched while you were pinned under him begins to echo in his mind, coming to realize that his question was a legitimate one.

Silently, General Kirigan strides to you, crouching in front of your sleeping form. A hand comes to ghost over the side of your face before he can stop himself. Your eyes flutter open, blinking blearily. When the sight before you comes into focus, you sit upright quickly, causing the Darkling to retract his hand from your face.

“Sir,” you start, but he waves his hand to cut you off.

“Follow me,” he says, standing from his crouched position and striding to the door with only a single glance behind him. Wordlessly, you get up and walk behind the general, wondering what he could possibly want.

Your nerves tingle with anxiety and surprisingly with excitement. You have wanted his attention, and here he is, finally giving it to you. Whether this is a good thing or not, you haven’t decided.

Suddenly, General Kirigan comes to an abrupt halt before turning sharply and opening the door to your right. He slips in quietly, and you follow him into the room, discovering that it is a bedroom. A large four poster bed with black satin sheets stands in the middle of the room, clouding your mind with the images of the fantasies you have dreamed up at night, and your neck heats at the indecency of your thoughts.

“I am going to be honest with you, and I ask that you do the same,” the general says as he stands in front of the bed, his focus completely on you.

You nod in agreement, nervousness forming a pit in your stomach.

“You have monopolized my thoughts. I have seen the way you look at me, and it has led me to believe that you will not object to what I have in mind. Now, I want to ask you again. When was the last time,” he takes a step in your direction, leaving no more than a meter between you, “someone,” another step, “touched you like I did?”

By the end of his question, he is standing directly in front of you, his eyes locked with yours. You want to tear your eyes away, but you find yourself unable to do so. Your body is hot, embarrassment flooding your veins, but somehow, you are not bothered by it. He prefaced his question with candor, and you want to do the same.

“Never, sir,” you whisper, providing him the honesty you promised.

A small smile pushes his lips up as he reaches a hand to tilt your chin. His hand drops slowly to your throat when he whispers, “Would you like me to do it again?”

“Yes, sir.”

The general makes no sudden movements and without any urgency, puts his hands on your waist and pulls you to his body. You take the necessary step forward to have your stomach flush to his. His hand finds its place at the small of your back, the other pushing a strand of your hair out of your face.

Your hands stay by your sides, unsure as to where to put them. He notices and moves to grab them, bringing them around his neck. His hands slide down your arms as they come around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your hips.

His eyes never leave yours as he leans down to whisper into your mouth, “Tell me when to stop.”

You nod, almost imperceptibly, but it is enough confirmation for him to close the gap between your lips. A breath flutters in through your nose, the sound of your nerves causing him to smile against your lips. He kisses you slowly and surely. He does not rush into your mouth, keeping his kisses languid and smooth, each one flowing into the next.

Slotting his thigh between yours, he pushes himself closer to you, the feeling of his leg pressed to the inside of yours inciting warmth to seep into your core. Your hips move upon their own accord, rocking to find his thigh like they did when you sparred. Your breath hitches, and you pull away to look at him, embarrassment creeping up your neck as every part of you starts prickling with heat.

The almost triumphant look on his face leaves you breathless and sweeps away your embarrassment. “Does it feel just as good this time?”

“Yes,” you breathe, closing your eyes as he meets your lips again.

The kisses come a little quicker now as his hands remove your kefta from your shoulders. You help him push off his own, unbuckling and untying shirts as you go.

“Will you lay down for me?” he asks as he gently guides you to the bed behind him, kissing you once along the way. “That’s a good girl.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, your mind unsure, but your body craves the feeling of everything he is so willingly offering. Black sheets engulf you as you lay back on his bed, your dress falling up your thighs. He removes the shoes from your feet and kisses a trail up your calves. You can’t help the sighs that escape your lips as your eyes slip closed.

“Look at me,” General Kirigan says, breathing your name against your knees. You watch him slide his hands up your legs, your sides, skimming your chest before resting them beside your head. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?”

You look right into his eyes and whisper, “Never.”

Your response elicits a smile from him before he captures your lips again, moving his thigh to press into your core. You gasp and keen into him, your chests pressing together. The feeling of him between your thighs has pressure building in your stomach, the muscles below your navel tight with anticipation. One of his hands comes to rest on your stomach, teasing you and causing you to jolt beneath him, your hips pressing further into him in response.

His thumb begins to caress the skin just above your panty line, and this causes the fire in your core to burn hotter than you have ever felt. He begins to help you rock into him, finding a rhythm that makes you whimper and kiss him harder.

Suddenly and without warning, his hand is out from under your dress and his thigh is absent from between yours. Your eyes fly open, thinking that he has had enough, and your heart leaps into your throat.

What you see leaves your heart pounding in your ears but not out of concern. He is sitting on his heels, looking down at you in what could only be interpreted as awe.

His eyebrows are high and his lips are slightly parted as he leans back down, not touching any part of you but with his lips. He kisses your neck, your throat, your collarbones with his hands bracing him beside you. The lack of contact anywhere else on your body has you reaching out and pulling his hips to yours, the feeling of his pants on the inside of your thighs making you tingle and clench your legs around his.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers again against the column of your throat, reminding you that you are in control. Everything is a new land yet to be discovered, and you are enjoying every moment of exploration.

“Please,” you breathe. “Don’t stop.”

a/n: yay !! thanks for making it through !! let me know if you want to be on my taglist :) check out MY SLEEPOVER going on right now !!

#shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #ben barnes #grishaverse

470 notes · View notes

chibipeachu · 2 months

Text

Melancholy Memories | Aleksander. M

wc: 1.4k

pairing: Aleksander morozova X Fem!Reader

navi ¦ part one

It was a new kind of pain to stand there as the servants laid you into a glass coffin, the king had request it, to help healers study your cause of death.

Aleksander stood beside the king and queen, his eyes not moving from your peaceful body, they had placed a white face scarf over your mouth to hide the rose from the public eye.

Genya caught Aleksander’s attention as they all waited for the announcer to tell ravka about your death. She wiped her nose, trying to hold back her tears as fedyor and ivan were apart of the servants who helped carry your coffin to the healers study.

Aleksander had blanked out most of the announcement, still in shock of your sudden death.

Hours before you both had been laughing at old memories the next, there he was watching as his closest grisha rest your coffin.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Aleksander sighed as he glanced up at the doorway, it still hurt to walk past those doors each day. With a deep sigh he opened the door. Faint whiff of your perfume washed over him as he walked in.

He held his breath as he walked towards the loveseat you had placed in your shared bedroom, he sat down and looked around the room, taking in the last remaining bit of your presence.

Tears fell from his eyes, aleksander quickly placed his head in his head, his mind cruelly reminding him of your past memories together.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Is it too late to tell you that i’ve never properly ridden a horse before?” Aleksander chuckled at your words.

“Yes, it is a bit late, but luckily for you, the saints favor you today meaning, you have a perfect guide..” He motions towards himself. “I don’t see ivan or fedyor anywhere..” You playfully looked around the palace grounds.

He let out a playful scoff. “Alright let’s move it!” You both laugh as aleksander quickly helped you get on the horse, getting on behind you. “What would happen if I fell off right now?” You teased as aleksander had the horse start to trot lightly around the grass.

“Be sent to the healers for weeks.” He quickly tightened his hold on your waist.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Aleksander smiled from his side of your bed as you got ready for the day, from brushing your hair to buttoning up your kefta.

“Zlatan would be shocked if he knew his enemy was really just a lazy man in bed..” You smiled at your husband through your vanity mirror.

“Well i’m sure zlatan doesn’t have this sight every morning..” You smiled and stood up from your vanity chair and walked to your loveseat and gently plopped down and posed for your husband.

“Perhaps I could distract zlatan while you attack?” Aleksander scoffed and got up from the bed and walked over to the loveseat. “Zlatan would freeze at the sight of a lady like yourself..” He gently kissed your hands, looking up at you as he kissed your wedding ring, making you giggle.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As aleksander sat, overwhelmed by your memories, he noticed a old journal tossed onto the small table in front of the loveseat. He sighed and scooted to the edge of the seat and grabbed the journal.

He flipped through the journal, he quickly paused as he noticed amongst the hundreds of pages only one page had been folded over to be a bookmark.

He unfolded the page and read the entry.

“A “golden guest” is what their calling her. Genya told me she’s a squaller and a powerful one at that, Aleksander had her in my old room for now, said she should have the best for a new guest..”

Aleksander quickly moved to the next paper.

“It seems i’ve somehow have developed a illness, it’s weird, being grisha and ill? Is it possible? I guess so, saints know how bad it hurts to breath as of late, aleksander has been busy, his attention is too focused on zoya to noticed. Queen tatiana had requested for me to join her and the other ladies to a lunch, of course i accepted before she threw a fit, hopefully it’s not totally boring this time…my illness seems to have gotten worse these past weeks, i feel very tired and achy? If that’s the right word even..”

“The lunch with the queen and her ladies were lovely, lady clarisse had taken her child with, cute little thing, we were joint at the hip for most of the lunch. Perhaps one day me and aleksander’s children will be as joyful and cute.”

As Aleksander sighed and went to place the journal beside him, too overwhelmed by his emotions a page fell from the journal, earning his attention.

“Hanahaki Disease | Death do you part.”

It’s a disease people suffer from when they experience unrequited love. The name Hanahaki derives from two shu words: ‘Hana’ meaning ‘flower’ and ‘hakimasu’ meaning ‘to throw up.’ So, when you put the two words together, you get the main symptom of Hanahaki disease, that is, coughing up flower petals.

As of recently there seems to be incurable, may the effected be received peacefully to the saints.

Aleksander’s throat closed as his eyes scanned over the page over and over again; his love’s death had been his fault, not some random curse but himself..

He shakily grabbed the journal and walked to the healer’s study where the king was observing the healer’s and your case.

Aleksander quickly stormed in and slammed the journal on the table, making some of the healers tense up.

“I have the answers you’ve been looking for, now you may now peacefully rest my wife’s body.” Aleksander demanded as his eyes held tears welted up.

“What?” King pyotr questioned, opening the journal and read over the entry and sighed before looking up at the healer’s.

“Ignore general kirigan and continue.” The healers quickly got back to examining your body. Aleksander scoffed and looked at the king.

“You wanted to find the source and it’s there now let her rest!” Aleksander pointed to the journal, now in king pyotr’s hand. “It’s the cause yes but we could finally be a step ahead of shu han for a cure! We can’t let this go, just cause you hate seeing your failed marriage attempt!” The king sighed, turning back to the healers, aleksander quickly left the room.

He watched as his feet moved on their own, back to your room.

Feeling numb, he walked to the bed and laid on the side where you had demanded he slept.

The soft smell of you lulled him to a peaceful sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Children’s laugher made aleksander open his eyes, he quickly hissed and lifted a hand to hide form the bright sun.

“Papa’s awake!” A tiny voice squealed, a quick flash of raven hair flew past him and towards the connected bathroom, where a familiar chuckle came from.

“That’s cause you woke him silly girl!”

Aleksander quickly sat up and rushed to the bathroom and felt his heart freeze at the sight.

There you were, your hair messy as you placed the little girl into the tub of bubbles. “I’m sorry she woke you up lapushka, told her she had to get in the bath..” You sighed before walking over to aleksander with a soft smile on your face.

“You’re so beautiful.” Aleksander whispered out as he held your face in his palm, your skin slightly warm.

“As are you!” You quickly kissed him before pulling back and tapping him on his chest. “Now go get the other little ones..” As aleksander went to look behind him, the room doors opened to reveal three younger boys smiling at him.

“I beat ivan today papa!” Aleksander took note of the kid’s kefta, he was a tidemaker. “Good job!” You cheered from the bathroom.

“Only cause he felt bad you fell and hit your head yesterday.” the second boy, an inferni smirked while walking past aleksander and right towards yours and aleksander’s bed.

“Papa? Are you alright?” The oldest of the three questioned, making aleksander look at his kefta and smile, he was a shadow summer as well.

“He was woken up by your sister, so he’s a bit tired from you lot.” You laughed, walking over ot aleksander and raising your hand to cup his face.

“Go back to sleep lapushka, i got it.” You smiled as aleksander melted into your hand

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Aleksander opened his eyes and looked around the room. He sighed as he stared at the ceiling.

Maybe in a different lifetime, you both would find each other and be happily married with children…

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

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19burstraat · 1 month

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Ok we all know guild me, build me exists due to my artistic abilities being very lacking in the visual arts, so rather than drawing the crows in the komedie brute, I had to write kaz in. however I had ideas for the others that I couldn't get into a fic, so I've put em down here

Kaz: (description ripped from guild me, build me):

a heavy black cape, sewn with stolen chains and jewels so that it jingled upon every movement (...) It was marked up and slit here and there, on the edges and at the collar, to give the impression of crow’s feathers, and it was made of some kind of shiny, velvety fabric that had the oily shine of crow’s plumage. The gloves were the same material, thinner and more embroidered than Kaz would have ever entertained, and the cane was a plain, inaccurate copy– (...) the mask; a silver crow’s head (...) crooked over the eyes and nose, almost like a Kaelish plague mask. But it left the mouth unblocked; of course it did. Dirtyhands needed to talk.

Inej:

Light and flimsy dark (doesn't have to be black; could be blue or grey) fabric for the veil and cloak. Has an element of spiderwebby fraying to it which is a nod to her being... Well, a spider lmao. But also meant to look ghostly and insubstantial, can sometimes see a metal shiny suggestion of knives underneath it. The veil can be parted just down the side of her face, so you can occasionally see a bit of her face, but never the whole thing. Would not be a practical costume to climb or spy in; too long and bothersome, the same way Kaz's Dirtyhands cloak would not be practical to pickpocket in. Sometimes productions get her a few cheap sheath knives.

Jesper:

Rabbit head mask, short cloak in some batshit colour like green or pink, lined w rabbit's fur and threaded with gambling chips, 'lucky' rabbits feet, coins, and stray bullets. Adornments tied on loosely so they swing everywhere when he moves. This way there's also a real risk of the Kaz and Jesper actors getting tangled together if they interact, which is not symbolic, just funny. This is our get-along Komedie Brute costume :) (we are stuck)

Wylan:

A once-fine red cloak with a high ruffly collar-- now tattered and singed and gone to seed. Little bits of wiring or string or pouches of powders etc sewn into it; sneakily embroidered with the Van Eck laurel around the edges. Mask, while elaborate and matching with the cloak, only covers the top half of his face, as if he's not quite as all-in as the others. For similar reasons, the cloak is half-length.

Matthias:

Wolf's head mask ofc, white fur cape a lot longer and more substantial than Jesper's, with heavy furring around the neck (made to bulk out the actor if they're not the right stature, which most will not be). Likely they also weight his boots to make his tread sound more imposing. Possibly a wig if they can afford one, since Druskelle are known for the long hair.

Nina:

Porcelain-doll Venetian style mask (you know the ones!) with a single black tear-- referential both to that bit in CK when they identified themselves that way in the crowd of Mister Crimsons, and the Queen of Mourning thing. Mask is covered with a very light veil, and she wears a long heavy silk cloak with a bit of a hint of a kefta, but not enough to get the Komedie Brute in shit from Ravkan Grisha lmao. Entrance usually heralded with a blue corpselight.

I imagine dependent on the production and the costumier they could look great and beautifully elaborate, or they could look cheap and shit lmao.

Bonus: I got bored and made a mock-up of a page of a Komedie play. I edited over the first folio for this, yes. Sorry to the Big W.S.

#right I think this is all right now. finally #fuckass blue site so glitchy it posts my shit early.#six of crows #soc duology #my fics #my post #grishaverse

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dearmantis · 1 year

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Dried Flowers

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Reader

Summary: After killing another person who tried to earn your hand in marriage, Aleksander finally manages to get you right where he has always wanted you.

Warning: murder, slut-shaming, blood, obsession, manipulation, dacryphilia (kind of? not sexual, he's just weird about tears??)

Word Count: 2k

Authors' Note: My ability to form sentences in English is slowly disappearing. What is grammar? I don't know anymore. What is logic? I don't know that either. I think I know nothing at all, actually. I also didn't proofread this at all and this isn't my native language, just fyi.

The blood tints the water a beautiful rose colour, similar to the petals of a flower Aleksander has seen you wear in your hair a few days ago.

He's washing his hands slowly, making sure to get every single drop off using the strongest smelling soap he owns in hopes of removing the metallic smell from his skin and a small brush to get the dried flakes out from under his nails.

His gaze moves over to the mirror, checking his shirt for blood splatter in the reflection, but he luckily finds nothing. There are some drops on his face, the red covering his cheek, nose, and parts of his forehead.

He has licked the ones that landed on his lips off a while ago, enjoying the taste of it like an expensive wine as he watched the man bleed out on the floor, his blood forming a small puddle beneath his body while his weak voice begged for mercy.

When he's sure that he got everything off his hands, he grabs a small handkerchief and dips it into the water before using it to remove the blood from his face. He has no time to waste, but he wants to make sure he looks right nonetheless.

In an hour, you will realize that your Lord Peter will not come to your planned shared breakfast. You will send servants to his room to check on him and they will discover the letter he forged, explaining how the Lord wanted to use you as a distraction after falling for a young woman in Ketterdam during his travels and recently decided that he loves her too much to stay away from her any longer.

It will break your heart, but sacrifices must be made, and breaking your heart now would be better than breaking it later after you truly lost your heart to him.

It was a shame, really. Lord Peter had been nice, one of the few nobles in Ravka who did not openly talk badly about Grisha, but Aleksander still couldn't let you marry him. No, you had to stay here, right in the Grand Palace, and Peter would've dragged you to his estate close to the border, never to be seen again.

And Aleksander needs you here. You can't leave. Ever.

After the blood is fully washed off his face he washes the handkerchief and places it on the windowsill to dry in the rising morning sun before opening the window and moving to dump the bloody water into the bed of flowers growing below.

Then he sits back down at his desk and moves to continue with todays paperwork while he waits, patient like a cat that knows that the little mouse will walk right into its mouth.

An hour later you are sitting on his lap, hands tightly holding onto his kefta while he uses the handkerchief he used to remove the blood from his face to dry your tears, carefully dabbing the soft, freshly washed fabric against your skin.

"I just don't understand why this keeps happening." He hears you whisper under your breath, his eyes still focused on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You look so beautiful when you cry. Ethereal. Magical. "Why am I never enough? Why not?"

He can feel a painful pinch in his heart when he hears your words. It's not you who isn't good enough for them. They aren't good enough for you.

You, his beautiful little Princess who boldly stands up for his Grisha and gets harassed with horrible rumours in return. Who gets shamed and threatened and withstands it all despite your softness, like a wild flower surviving the most destructive storms.

"She's under the Darklings spell."

"Nobody wants to marry her except the General and now she defends him to make sure he doesn't loose interest."

"The poor girl is being manipulated by him. He uses her as a shield to protect the Grisha and the stupid thing is too blind to see it."

"He must've fucked his magic into her and it scrambled her mind."

So much gossip surrounds you, but you never complain. You don't even mention what they say about you, probably fearing that he will distance himself from you as well after finding out how people talk about you. That the last friend you have left will leave, unwilling to have his reputation ruined even more.

But he would never leave you. In Aleksanders eyes, you're the only honourable otkazat'sya currently alive in all of Ravka. He will do everything in his power to make sure you stay right here with him and influence politics further. You're a sensible person. Good. Kind. And you work hard to make sure people understand and respect the way you see the world. You fight for change.

So you have to stay right here with him.

"You're more than enough." He answers softly, dropping the handkerchief onto the sofa next to you before his hands move up to cup your face, making sure you're looking him in the face and see the truth in his eyes.

"You are so much better than anyone in Ravka understands. You have a soft, caring heart, and those who do not understand it see it as weakness. But I understand. I understand your strength."

Every single word that falls from his lips is calculated, his voice soft and kind in hopes of making you more susceptible to him.

"And you understand me. You understand how I see the world. What needs to change to make sure Grisha and otkazat'sya can live together in peace. You are perfect."

You don't understand him, not yet, at least, but you will. He will make sure of it. You will understand it all. His little flower.

He lets his hands move down to your waist, and your head immediately drops to rest on his shoulder, your face pressing into his neck.

"Why can't I just marry you..." Aleksander hears you murmur, almost entirely soundless, and he has to fight the smirk trying to find its way onto his lips.

"What was that?"

An embarrassed whimper leaves your lips, a sweet, pathetic sound that he would love to hear forever. "Forget it."

"No, no. Come on, don't be shy." Aleksander encourages, carefully drawing circles on your back while you press your face closer to his neck.

"It's stupid."

The Shadow Summoner doesn't respond, instead choosing to simply wait until you manage to collect enough confidence to repeat and explain yourself. You need to make this step on your own.

"My father will not stop until I'm married. He will continue to set me up with new people in hopes of marrying me off to get me out of the Palace."

You lift your head to look into his face, probably fearing that he won't understand you if you keep whispering against his neck, forcing you to repeat this whole thing a third time.

"And the people he chooses will continue to run away from me. Even the nicest people leave me behind and instead pick a different fate for themselves. For some reason, everyone seems to agree that marrying me is not worth it, a destiny too cruel to live through. No one ever stays with me. No one except you."

New tears sparkle in your eyes, and Aleksander decides it's the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege of witnessing. When you cry, all of your emotions are so visible in your eyes. You hide nothing, the mask that all nobles in Ravka wear washed away by the tears rolling down your face. The fact that you trust him to see all of your vulnerability and weakness fills him with glee.

"So I thought that maybe... maybe it would be an option for us to marry."

Before Aleksander gets the chance to respond, you begin talking once more, making it clear to him that you will probably start rambling.

"Of course, that's stupid. We're friends, and I really don't want to ruin this, and I know that I just did that by mentioning that I think we should marry, and I'm really sorry. It's pathetic and honestly disrespectful to you to ask you to marry me just because I'm sick of being alone and I'm pretty sure my father wouldn't even allow it so we would have to do it in secret which isn't fair to you and I-"

He cuts you off by carefully touching your face once more, willing his gaze to soften. He needs to at least pretend to be vulnerable right now to fully get you where he wants you to be.

"It would be an honour to marry you, moya tsarevna. It doesn't matter if in secret or in front of all of Ravka. You are my best friend, and it would be a privilege to be tied to you legally and free you from this constant pain of losing every person you get close to in the same breath."

Leaning forward, he presses his forehead against yours, hoping that the physical proximity will make him seem more honest than he truly is.

"But I don't want you to marry me just because you fear that you will end up alone. I want you to decide for yourself that you want a future with me. One where we can fight side by side for Grisha and Otkazat'sya to live in harmony."

He would marry you right now if you simply ask him. It's the ideal end to his plan, after all. If you were married to him, he wouldn't have to keep killing all of your friends and possible marriage candidates because you would already be tied to him and the Little Palace. You could never leave. You would be here with him forever.

Or, well... until you died from old age. But that's a problem he can solve, he's sure of it. He will make sure his little flower will live on and continue fighting with him. You're part of this eternal battle now, and he will not let you escape it though something like death.

It really doesn't matter why you want to marry him, but it would make the future easier for him and yourself if you simply learned to love him romantically. You'd also probably be more likely to forgive him for the more controversial ideas he has if your heart is full with love for him. As much as he wants to grab you and drag you over to a church to get it over with, he needs to be patient.

The end is in sight, there is no reason to rush things and risk mistakes later. This is the foundation for a bright future.

The worst thing that could happen is that you choose to wait and get to know another Lord who your father wants you to marry.

Another person for Aleksander to kill.

And then, when his dead body slowly starts to decompose in the flowerbeds of the Little Palace alongside the other people he has killed for this, you will find your way back into his arms for comfort and decide that you will marry him. There's no reason to force you to marry him now.

"I would love to be married to you, General. It would be an honour for me as well. You are a great general and an even greater man. I respect you more than anyone else. I promise it's not just because I fear to disappoint my family and end up alone. I have always admired your protective and caring nature, and I genuinely believe that you could be a great husband. One that I can easily love."

He moves your face back to the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around your waist and pressing you tightly against his body. He can't hide the wide grin on his face.

The mouse walked into the cats open mouth. You are his.

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader

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kasagia · 5 months

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❄️️Warm my heart pt. 1❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Nonsense from me: A spontaneous Christmas mini-series. We'll see how it develops... I hope you will like it 🩵🖤 P.S. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I don't know if there's any equivalent to our Christmas… let's just say there is and I'll try to find out to be sure😅 Word Count: 3k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Oh saints, I'm freezing here." Fedyor complains as he walks next to you through the snowdrifts.

"Don't be such a grump." you say, adjusting your black fur coat that protects your neck from the cold wind. You look at the sky. The clouds were swirling above you, and the snow was still falling. In moments like these, you kind of wish you were Inferni.

"Grumpy? We had been walking around, searching for this stag, the whole day. I start to doubt if that tracker can find it."

"That tracker had seen it." Mal's voice is coming behind you. You turn to see him helping Alina walk through the snow. "It had to go somewhere to await the snowstorm."

"We should do the same." you tremble as you hear General's right behind you. You feel his warm body and beating heart before he stands next to you. "It's getting worse with each hour. We should go back to camp." he says, looking at Ivan.

"Yes, sir." Ivan who came with him nods to him and looks at the rest.

All of you are following him. You see Zoya and the general talking to him about something in the front. Mal and Alina whisper something quietly to each other. The tracker looks distrustfully at the three Grishas in front of him. You decide to stay with Fedyor a little after them.

"Lovers' quarrel?" you ask him as you see him trying to stay as far away from Ivan as he can. He also has not looked at him even once since you all got together after hours of searching Morozova's stag.

"You can say that. I want to go on holiday with my family and take him with me. He refused... well, it's putting it mildly."

"He needs time. I'm sure he will gladly come with you to meet your cousins and siblings." you defend him.

You know very well that Ivan wasn't necessarily eager to leave the Little Palace. He rarely saw his family. Like you, he didn't have many... people in his family who accepted him as Grisha. Fedyor was lucky to have someone to write letters to and visit during the holidays. Ivan was also more conservative; he did not engage in closer relationships with people, except for his fiancé.

Just like someone else you know...—you think, staring at the back of the general's head.

Snowflakes fall on his black kefta, making it even harder for you to take your eyes off him. You stopped counting the number of times you just wanted to go up to him, run your hand through his hair, hug him while simultaneously hiding in his black kefta, or kiss those temptingly soft lips that gave orders to thousands of soldiers.

The beating of his heart has become wonderful music for you to work with since you somehow became his second-in-command and started to spend more time with him in the war room.

It also worsened your crush on him… but it was a sacrifice you could bear for the sake of Ravek and Grishas.

"I hope so. I haven't seen them for a year. I wanted to finally introduce Ivan to them. Especially after our engagement." he sighs sadly, staring blankly at the footprints in front of you. You look at him sympathetically. As you notice snowflakes gathering on his shoulder, you think of an idea to make him laugh and maybe feel a little better.

You stand for a moment and bend down to your shoe, pretending to try to tie it. Fedyor stops and waits for you, his eyes patrolling the area and the forest surrounding you. You weren't that far from the capital, but some of Drüskelle's unit could always show up. You take advantage of his moment of inattention, form a snowball, and throw it at him.

You laugh quietly as the snowball hits his back. Fedyor gives you a surprised look before smirking and accepting the challenge. You silently throw snowballs at each other from behind, trying to stay silent enough so that no one notices what you two are doing.

At one point, you dodge a snowball thrown by Fedyor, causing it to hit Alina. The Sun Summoner turns towards you and lets out a small huff of laughter as he sees the two of you covered in snow. He nudges Mal with his elbow, and soon the four of you are left far behind the others, throwing snowballs at each other.

You laugh as you form teams against each other. You and Fedyor do quite well against them... at least until, instead of throwing a snowball at Mal's face, you manage to hit General Kirigan, who seems to have noticed your absence and come back to find you.

You all freeze, watching the snow fall from his face onto the kefta. Beside him, Zoya tries her best not to burst out laughing. Ivan, on the other hand, gives the four of you an irritated, disbelieving look.

"Ten minutes… we can't let you out of our sight for ten minutes," Kirigan says, wiping his face with a handkerchief and brushing away the remaining snow from his face.

"Our apologies, General." Fedyor says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his face straight.

"Whose genius idea was it?" he asks, hiding his handkerchief and brushing off the excess snow from his black coat. To no avail, judging by the snow still falling on you. But that didn't change the fact that he was as intimidating as he was in any setting.

You see Alina take a breath to take the blame, but you cut her off before she could. "My, sir. I wanted to lighten the mood. I apologise; it won't happen again. We won't delay our return."

Your remorseful look and tone of voice make him relax. His stern gaze softens, and you can practically hear Fedyor teasing you about it.

"Just don't get left behind." he says and turns on his heel, leading you all again back to the camp.

Zoya stares at you, surprised at how smoothly you managed to pull off something like insulting the general of the Second Army by throwing a snowball at his face. However, she quickly comes back to her senses and tries to catch up with the general to talk to him about something. Ivan, on the other hand, just shakes his head and wordlessly follows the Black General like his shadow.

"Seriously? If it were me, he'd tear me apart just by looking at me," Mal grumbles to himself.

"Don't worry so much. He would do it to anyone. He has a soft spot only for Y/N. Well, and maybe Alina, since she is one-of-a-kind." Fedyor says quietly and pats him on the back. Alina snickers and takes Mal's arm as they both follow the trail of the three Grishas. You roll your eyes at your dear friend's words.

"Stop it. It's ridiculous. Don't even insinuate something like that. With Zoya and Alina in the picture, I mean nothing more to him than a soldier, his second-in-command. At best, a friend."

"Sure. The beating of his heart every time you look at him is an obvious clue that this is the case. Besides, you've seen yourslef. You are the only one who can hit him with a snowball and stay safe and sound. He didn't even raise his voice at you. The two of you are so damn obvious and so damn stubborn that even if you ended up in bed together, you both would consider it an accident."

"Oh, shut up." he laughs, hitting me on the arm with his.

"What? Why do you think he made you stop your training as a healer and decide for you to be a heartrender instead of making you a main healer? You would have stuck in an infirmary far away from him. That way, he sees you often, plus you have black embroidery on your kefta." he says and winks suggestively. You huff in amusement, shaking your head.

"You are ridiculous. We work together. That's all. There's nothing more between us. At best, it's camaraderie. Besides, he can have anyone."

"But he wants you. Do you think he gives flowers to everyone on Women's Day? Or does he buy birthday gifts? Does he even remember about someone's birthday?" you blush, you feel your cheeks turn the bloody color of your kefta and it's not because of the cold.

"I remember him wishing Ivan a happy birthday." you mutter under your breath.

"Because he was standing next to us when I gave this idiot a gift." he says, obviously still angry at his fiancé.

"Give it up. Him and I—it's not going to happen. He's a womanizer. Zoya is not his first mistress. And I am definitely not his type or league."

"Well, now that you've brought it up... little birdie told me that he cut off all non-Army relations with her. And guess when? When you became his second-in-command. And guess who he pushes away, despite the fact that she's desperately trying to get back into his bed?"

"It does not matter. He probably has his eyes on Alina and wants to make a good impression."

Fedyor groans in annoyance at your response. Before you know it, you're back at camp, with no trace of the rest of your companions. The man next to you sighs in frustration and runs a hand through his hair.

"If you keep fighting it for so long and denying it, which makes no sense by the way, then yes. He'll find someone else. Take the opportunity before you regret it. Christmas is coming! Maybe some miracle will happen that will make you both see that you have to end together, because only saints can make the two of you see things together, you stubborn donkeys." he says and leaves you alone, going saints know where.

You sigh, walking back to your tent. However, before you strip off the layers of clothes that protect you from heat loss, you notice that you have no firewood. You go back to the forest and collect twigs and small logs of wood that you can use to light a fire at night.

You go back to camp, dragging a small wood sled behind you. You think about Fedyor's words and whether they might actually turn out to be true. You blush as you remember the countless late nights spent in the war room talking to the general about plans, reports, new recruits, or just drinking his kvass with him and talking about anything and everything. It's true, you were close... but would you be willing to jump in and risk everything—your entire career and the life you created in the Little Palace—to try to be more to him than just one of his soldiers? Especially when he could have had a Sun Summoner?

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice familiar, dark shadows starting to swirl behind you. You scream in shock, both from the feeling of someone suddenly pulling you into his chest and from the fact that the skin on your neck and face meets the icy snow.

General Kirigan's laughter, the familiar scent of his cologne, and the warmth emanating from him calm you enough to realise that you are not in the arms of anyone dangerous. Well... if a shadow summoner could be considered such. But the coolness of the snow he rubs into your face and neck effectively shakes you from thoughts of him as you try to fight back.

He chuckles and holds you tighter with one hand as you kick and struggle in his arms.

“A good soldier knows when to surrender, Y/N.” he whispers into your ear, clearly amused. His silky tone of voice was as mischievous as it was slightly defiant and dangerous. "Shouldn't you have enough honour to obediently endure the punishment of your general?"

"Punishment? What for?" you ask as you manage to wipe the snow off your face enough to keep it from sticking in your mouth as you speak.

"Do you think I would let your little stunt get away with it? I wonder if you can still throw so accurately with snow in your kefta…" he says, slowly scooping up more snow and guiding his hand with it under your coat.

"NO!" you scream, amused and scared at the same time.

You use your powers to stun him for a moment and pull yourself out of his arms. You don't get very far, though. His shadows chase after you, and he keeps you tightly against his chest again. You struggle with him so much that you both fall screaming into a large snowdrift.

You land on top of him, blushing furiously as you realise this. The snow around you cools you a little, and you start to feel the cold seep into your bones despite everything.

"Armistice?" you ask him, your hand full of snow ready to attack.

He chuckles, amused, which only makes your smile widen. You had rarely seen him so… carefree. Especially now that he was so focused on finding Morozova's stag.

"For now. I will still look for my revenge." you whine, dissatisfied.

"It was only one snowball, Aleksander. I wasn't even aiming at you!" you protest. You squeak, surprised, as he switches, so now he is on top of you. A dangerous smile played on his face as he looked at you with a mischievous spark in his dark eyes.

"You think so?" he asks with a cheeky smirk, the hand holding the snow coming dangerously close to the buttoms of your kefta under your coat.

"All right, you won! Please don't. I'm freezing."

He frowns when he hears that you are cold. He lets go of the snow and wipes his hand on his coat before touching your cheek. He sighs, feeling how cold you are. He stands up first and helps you up, still watching you carefully.

"Let's go back to the camp. I wouldn't want my second-in-command to get sick because she decided to play in the snow" he says, and you blush slightly.

He only makes you redder by taking your hands in his and breathing warm air on them. You see the nostalgia in his eyes, and you can't help but ask him a question.

"What is it?"

"It's just... it's been so long since I did it. The last person I threw snowballs with was my sister. It feels like... centuries ago." he whispers thoughtfully, not letting go of your hands.

Unconsciously, he starts drawing patterns on your hands with his thumbs. You see him going back to his memories. How his eyes darken with sadness, even hurt. You don't know what must have happened to make him so depressed, but you feel the inner need to fight off all his worries just to see his smile again—the gleam of joy in those dark, hypnotising eyes.

"Well… maybe you can do it again? After all, the holidays are coming. You'll definitely want to visit her. Or she you." you say, choosing your words carefully. He didn't talk much about his family. Even his name was a big secret. And from your information, as long as it was good, you were the only one who knew it.

"It's a little more complicated." he says it gruffly and pulls away from you. You curse yourself in your mind, not even knowing what you did wrong. "Neither of us sees anything... special about it."

"You don't have a family meeting? Never?"

"We're not close. I don't remember when was the last time we got together. Not to mention something as insignificant and trivial as all this exchange of gifts, celebrations and prayers to the saints." he replies, pulling your sled of wood as you both walk back to camp.

You can tell by the tone of his voice that he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so you change the subject and ask about the next steps in his plan to capture the deer, and he perks up a little more.

Little does General Kirigan know that you're half-listening to him, thinking about something entirely else. The distant look in his dark eyes when he talks about his family—that hidden longing for something he pretends not to want—tells you one thing.

You will make sure he feels different this year. You will do everything to replace his clearly unpleasant memories with harshness from his loved ones, memories he doesn't want to share with something better.

"We'll discuss the details in my tent tonight. I hope you don't get sick. We don't have time for any delays. We have to finally catch that damn stag by the end of the year at the latest. Although our only tracker who saw it will keep hanging around the Summoner Sun instead of tracking, I don't see it well." he says, and anyone else would find his words harsh and irritated, but you've long since learned that his eyes are the true reflection of his feelings and emotions.

The one thing he couldn't control. He gives you the rope of the sled, and before he leaves you, he ties his scarf around your neck, mumbling something about how you don't know how to pack the most necessary things for the mission.

You go back to your tent and light a fire. After a while, a fabricator comes in and hands you black leather gloves without saying a word. He's gone before he can see you smiling and blushing, realising WHO told him to make them for you.

You shake your head, trying to get past Fedyor's teasing words from the hours ago. It's just a friendly gesture. Nothing more.

But this is the moment when you make your final decision.

You will see the general again, as happy and carefree as he was a few moments ago. So relaxed and calm as he deserves to be, at least in this time of year...

Even if, along the way, your stupid heart had to completely and hopelessly fail for a man you could never have.

Thank you! 🩵🖤🩵🖤

~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~

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corpsebasil · 11 months

Text

Toxic 18+

Nikolai and you have a toxic relationship, but you’re getting sick of it.

You were fuming as you stormed down the hallway, headed towards Nikolai’s room. You pounded on the door, your knuckles almost splitting skin against the wood. He opened up, glaring right back at you, already having had felt your presence like a sixth sense.

“Where the fuck do you get off having me taken off the mission?” You demanded, eyes narrowed as you took in his slightly flushed appearance and his open-buttoned shirt.

“You’re not good enough for it.” He said, tone lethally calm. “I filled your spot with someone better.”

“Someone better?” You scoffed. “I’m a Tidemaker. This is a sea mission. I’m the best one there is!”

“I dont agree.” He told you, blue eyes sharp. “I think you’re weak. I think you’d be risking Grisha lives and wasting my time.”

You tried to ignore the flare of hurt at his words.

He’d been like this as long as you’d known him. Undermining you, berating you, making you feel no better than dirt under his shoe. You gave it right back to him, but sometimes, sometimes, when you saw him being so sweet to others, his charming, boyish self, something in you ached. What was wrong with you? Why was he so cruel when he was so kind to everyone else?

You’d dealt with men like him your entire life. Men who saw your power as a danger—as a threat to their own manhood. You’d been whipped for your power, beaten senseless for using it, all up until you finally fled your home country and went to Ravka, hoping to join the Grisha ranks.

But of course, the physical blows were exchanged for verbal.

No one else seemed to have an issue. In fact, you’d been praised for your gift. Rare ability as it was, Grisha had flocked to your side, curious and excited to see what you could do. The children, smaller Grisha with wide eyes and stunned smiles, watched with delight as you formed little animals out of water and made them dance around. They howled with laughter when you played water fights with them, soaking their Keftas and making them squeal with joy.

Nikolai had watched you one day from his window. Watched as you chased the small Grisha, sending bunnies made out of water to hop around their heads. Watched as the children cling to you like you were their older sister, constantly itching to be at your side.

Something in him tugged at the sight, but he wasn’t dumb enough to get close to you. Not when your power was so dangerous that assassins weren’t out of the question. He couldn’t risk it. Not now, not ever.

“You aren’t going.” Nikolai said calmly, watching your furious expression morph into cold hate. “End of discussion.”

He slammed the door in your face and you gritted your teeth against a scream of frustration, one that was only dampened when one of the Grisha children ran down the hallway, a little one named Pepe, immediately jumping up on you and laughing when you swung the small boy around in a playful circle.

Behind the door Nikolai leaned against it, closing his eyes when he heard your laughter. Then he peeled away, headed to his desk, ready to get back to his work.

You’d snuck onto the ship.

The Grisha there had welcomed you with opened arms, obviously scared shitless when they realized they’d be engaging in a sea-battle without their Tidemaker. And you’d saved them all, winning the battle easily, but not before an arrow had sliced through your arm. A small cut, really, though it stung like hell.

You walked back into the Grand Palace, laughing with two other Grisha women. You were clad in a tight tank-top, your arm exposed, wrapped up in gauze. And when you saw who was waiting, leaning against the opposite wall as you turned down the hallway to your room, you froze. Then you rolled your eyes, moving past him.

“Y/N.” Nikolai called out, but you kept walking. “Y/N.” He said again, this time walking after you, his boots loud on the hall floor.

“What?” You demanded, exasperated. “What do you want?”

“I want you to explain why you decided you had the right to disobey my direct orders.” He snapped, blue eyes blazing as he moved forward, getting into your space. “I told you not to go. Not to. And yet you went.”

“They needed my help. I saved your entire damn ship—”

“They could’ve done it just fine without you.”

“How are you—” you wanted to pull your own hair out. “How are you so arrogant that you can’t even see past your own nose—”

“You’re the goddamn arrogant one—”

“—and realize I’m the one that saved them. I’m an invaluable member to that team and I saved them.”

He was breathing heavily, inches from you, before his eyes drifted to your arm. To the spot of red that was stained against the gauze, the stitches having had leaked a bit on the journey back to Ravka. Something like concern flickered in his gaze. Something like—like worry for you.

“You got shot?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the blood. As if he could use x-ray vision to magically see the gash through the fabric. As if, if he tried hard enough, he could heal you with his gaze alone.

“Yes.” You said tightly, ignoring the worried look in his eyes and what it did to your worn-down heart.

You’d liked him, at first. He looked like a prince from a storybook—handsome, charming. Absolutely flirtatious. But the moment he’d found out you were a Tidemaker he’d been a fucking bully and an utter asshole. Now, though, he was looking at you as if he cared. As if he actually gave a shit that you’d been hurt.

That was until he opened his mouth.

“Guess you aren’t as invaluable as you think.” He said, eyes sliding away from the gauze to your own. “If you cant even complete a mission without getting yourself shot.”

The rapid stab of hurt that hit you made you blink at him, especially when he let out an annoyed sigh and turned to walk away, muttering, “Pathetic excuse for a Grisha” under his breath.

And when the tears welled, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you yelled after him, uncaring who heard.

“Why are you so fucking mean?” You called out, your voice echoing down the hallway. He paused, body tensing. “What did I ever do to you?”

Nikolai’s shoulders rose and fell as he breathed, then he turned around, striding back over. He paused a hairs-breath away, his eyes focused on yours, before he spoke.

“Do not speak out of turn to me, soldier.”

“Or what? What will you do?”

“I’ll have you whipped—”

You slapped him. Slapped him so hard his head cracked to the side and your palm stung. You got into his face again, glaring, tears of anger filling your eyes.

“If you ever take a whip to me,” you snarled, the aching memory of your past searing phantom lashes across your spine. “I will kill you. I will drown you and you will suffer.” You were panting as the first few tears slipped down your face and you watched as his expression turned to one of disbelief.

But he didn’t speak, not as you whirled around and stormed to your room, wiping your face free of the wetness as you went.

Nikolai didn’t know what to do.

He hadn’t seen you for the rest of the day. When he asked around, he was told you were sequestered in your room, refusing to come out. One Grisha, one who he knew was your friend, glared furiously as she passed him in the hallway and, with a brashness he was stunned by, gave him the most disrespectfully shallow bow he’d ever seen before she strode past, looking down her nose at him.

He didn’t know why he’d said what he’d said. Why he felt the need to—to hurt you so deeply. He had seen it in your face—the rage, but underneath that, the heartache. And when you’d slapped him, when he saw the tears on your face, something in him cracked. So he made his way to your room cautiously, hand hovering over the door before he steeled himself enough to knock.

He heard no response. None.

He entered slowly, glancing around the utterly silent room, but steam and the smell of lavender was coming from the bathroom, so he moved towards it.

“Y/N?” He called out, footsteps soundless on your carpeted floors as he moved towards the open door. He peered in and froze—goosebumps broke out across his skin as he stared at you. Agonizing shame filled him, along with utter, utter horror.

You didn’t look at him; you sat in the tub with your knees pulled to your chest, your shoulders curved as you sat stone still in the bath. And your back—your back was—

“Saints, I—” Nikolai swallowed the sudden tightness in his throat as his eyes ran across long, pink scars that covered the expanse of your back. Long lines that could only be from—

“Looks like someone beat you to it.” You mumbled, glaring over your shoulder at him with wet eyes. You were shivering, he realized, even in the hot bath. The memories had swarmed you the minute you’d gotten to your room, and it had taken everything in you not to scream.

“I’m—“ Nikolai tried again, but he felt frozen to the spot.

“You what?” You whispered, but there was no more menace in your voice. No more fire. Only a startling, unnerving defeat. “Come to tell me how worthless I am? Unable to resist the idea of me broken?” You laughed mirthlessly. “I cant even be in my own room without you telling me how much you can’t stand—”

“I’m sorry.” He croaked, eyes still on your back. He couldn’t imagine that level of pain—of fear. “Who….when?”

“Back in my home country.” You sighed, turning away, a bit shaken by his apology. But it wasn’t because he cared. No, he was just trying to pretend he wasn’t a giant asshole now that he’d seen his threat had brought back traumatic memories. “They don’t take kindly to Tidemakers either. You’d fit right in.”

“I’d never hurt you.” Nikolai insisted, moving to crouch next to the tub. “Never. I didn’t mean it.”

You stared at him, meeting those blue eyes of his, those stunningly blue eyes, and wished you could believe him.

“Okay.” You mumbled, looking away to stare at the wall. “You may go, now.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“What do you want with my forgiveness?”

“I want—” he fumbled for words. “I don’t know.”

You closed your eyes against the sheer heartache running through you. It’s not enough that he hurts you. Not enough that he threatens you. But a fake apology? One only caused by guilt? You didn’t want to hear it.

“Please go.” You whispered, quiet as a mouse, and he did.

That night, you sat in the grand hall with the other Grisha, chattering about the mission and laughing. You felt good, for once. Nikolai didn’t spare you a glance, thank the Saints, and you indulged in a glass of wine or two. But then the room hushed as he stood, raising a glass in his hand as all eyes moved to the prince.

“I want to thank you all, for today.” He said, piercing eyes of his moving across the team you were with. “Without you we would’ve never won the battle on those treacherous waves.” You almost rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but then he looked at you. “And Y/N,” he continued pointedly, and your heart stopped. “a Tidemaker is a rare gift indeed. A gift to Ravka, to Grisha, and to me. May we all pay her the respect she deserves for leading the team today.” He nodded to you and took a sip of his drink, and the Grisha around you cheered, knocking back their glasses and jostling your shoulders, careful not to hurt your injured arm.

You only stared at Nikolai, stunned, as a warm look lingered in his eyes, watching you. You looked away, feeling his stare on the side of your head, and you ignored him for the rest of the dinner.

Afterwards, you walked to your room, moving quickly down the hall. But not before a hand managed to grab your own, tugging you back, and you came face to face with Nikolai.

“What the fuck?” You whisper-hissed, well aware other Grisha weren’t too far away. “First you shit on my powers then you give a little speech?”

“I wronged you. I know that.” He started, eyes pleading with you. “But I cant—I cant stand you sometimes. All you do is provoke me—”

“Provoke you?”

“And you—yes, listen. And you drive me fucking mad.”

“You think I make you crazy? What about me?”

“Come on,” he urged. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

“What, with deep, soul-consuming hatred?”

“Like you’re undressing me with your fucking eyes.” That shut you up, and you blinked at him. “Come on,” he continued, voice lowering to a seductive drawl that make your skin hum. “I know you want me, Y/N. Despite our little squabbles.”

“I wouldn’t call them little.” You mumbled, but your breath hitched at the raw hunger in his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Do you want me, or not?” He asked, moving closer, his soft breath on your face. And you only stared, blinking slowly at him, before you turned around, walking to your room.

He followed you wordlessly, watching as you glanced over your shoulder and moved into your room. When he followed, shutting the door behind him, you turned, looking up into his handsome face. You’d thought about him…about having him…plenty of times. But the shame that you’d felt after was almost crippling; how you could possibly be attracted to such a cruel prince blew your mind.

“I want you.” He murmured, moving closer. “How do you want it?”

“I want it—” you paused, not sure what you were even saying. “Want it…slow.”

“Slow?” He let out a dark laugh. “I don’t do slow, sweetheart.”

He backed you up towards your bed, watching as you slid off your dress, holding lust-filled eye-contact. And you felt that shame again, that embarrassing shame, at the deep desire that ran through your body. Especially when he moved towards you, hovering over your body, yanking off your undergarments, his hands unbuckling his trousers.

“I still hate you.” You told him, biting your lip as he parted your legs for him. You were sure he’d fuck you hard, so hard it’d hurt, but you still wanting him. Desperately.

“Hate you too.” He murmured against your mouth, and kissed you as he pushed into you slowly. It was heady and ridiculous how much you wanted him as you let out a soft moan into his mouth, his soft tongue running along your own. “Feels so good, love.” He whispered.

Love.

You felt your heart break at the word. But then he was moving and—it wasn’t rough at all. He was making love to you, slow strokes that had you practically keening under him, as he rubbed up against that spot inside you that had you gasping for breath. His hands sank into your hair, kissing your mouth, and the intimacy of it was startling.

“Knew you fucking wanted me.” He muttered, leaning down to kiss your neck, and you screwed your eyes shut. Even now, he had to be a bastard. “Been thinking about taking you since you disobeyed me.”

You turned your head away, looking at the wall as he moved, the blinding pleasure not nearly as strong as the sudden wave of sadness. You couldn’t believe you were allowing him to touch you—to fuck you—after everything. And suddenly you wanted him out.

“Stop. Stop.” You gritted out, chest tight as he froze.

“Y/N?”

“Just—just go.”

He panted for a moment, his hands still gripping your hips with bruising force, before he pulled away, fastening his trousers back with a sound of finality. You rolled onto your side, curling into yourself, as your chest heaved. You couldn’t look at him. Not when he sat down on the bed next to you and ran a hand down your side, stroking your skin almost lovingly.

“What did I do now?” He breathed, continuing to draw long, slow trails down your side, his fingers warm. His touch gentle. “Y/N?”

“You cant even treat me kindly when you’re fucking me.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes as you stared into the distance. “I just—I just wish you could be kind to me.” You felt pathetic, like a child begging for scraps. But then you felt a kiss against your spine, then another, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“It’s hard to be close to you.” Nikolai admitted softly. “Every day I—I think somethings going to happen to you. That some rogue Grisha is going to take out my most important soldier and you—” his voice hitched and he paused, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t.”

You turned to look at him, sitting up slowly.

“You’re telling me that you’re cruel because what, you care about me?”

“Yes.” He snapped, expression more serious than you’d ever seen him. “Because I care. And caring is dangerous.”

You stared, watching him, painful hope in your heart.

“I’m not going to forgive you for everything you said.” You told him, ignoring the hurt that flashed in those eyes. “But I—” he reached out to take your hand and you allowed him. “Nikolai..”

“Such beautiful hands.” He murmured, tracing your fingers with his own. “So powerful. You amaze me, you know? Even when you’re headstrong.”

“Me? Headstrong? Look at you—”

“Let’s not fight.” He groaned, leaning forward to kiss you, his mouth sweet and gentle on yours. “Don’t fight me.” He said again, and grinned against you when you kissed him back eagerly.

You pushed him back down on the bed and, though it would take time for the two of you heal your dynamic, you hoped there was a place for each other in your lives.

this was a whirlwind ANYWAYS

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #wattpad #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #smut #nikolai lantsov smut #Nikolai lantsov angst #angst

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puppysirie0-0 · 4 months

Text

"Will You Take My Hand, Dear?"

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Lantsov!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff that alludes to smut that'll be in the next chapter with a dollop of angst

Chapter 2 of "The Bunny and It's Shadow"

You take Aleksander's hand as he leads you into the hall, belongings in hand. You watch in disbelief as you pass by all the bodies on the floor, unsure if they're dead or just knocked out. Either way, you can't bring yourself to wrap your head around the idea of Aleksander doing something like this. Risking everything that he's fought, scraped, and crawled for, to make sure he could be safe, to make sure his Grisha were safe.

You feel guilty. Why would he take that chance? The chance of everything falling apart, for someone he knew for such a short time. He had lived countless lives, worn various names, but what you hadn't known is that he hadn't loved anyone in those lives. At least not since her. Not since Luda.

Of course Aleksander had told you about Luda. The same night he talked of his past, he gave you his explanation, told you his reasoning for each individual cautious step he took to get here. Told you every ounce of pain that shot through his heart, as the king's guard shot through her's.

What you don't understand is why he would jeopardize all of his progress, possibly even risk war, for someone he's known for a mere 3 years compared to his comparably much, much longer life. You had talked about your insecurity of the time you had spent together and what it meant to him. How you felt that when you inevitably began to grow older, you would longer have any appeal. That he would cast you aside for a younger, prettier girl.

Or maybe he would think you were too much work. Your constant need for affection and clingy nature, he might some day find annoying. That you're broken to an extent that he didn't want to put the effort into. That you would be left heartbroken and alone, like you had been a majority of your childhood.

He promised every single time that he would never do such a thing, that he would find a way for you to live a longer life. But your insecurities and fears always found a way to shine through.

∾ ▩ °º❤️º° ▩ ∾

Before you could pull yourself from your haze of self-doubt and fear, Aleksander cut through it. He always found a way to get to you when you were upset. Whether it be drowning in your minefield of thoughts or simply upset about what happened in the real world. Your current events being evidence of the ladder.

He squeezed your hand in reassurance, somehow knowing that you're sinking into the quicksand of your mind. As you walk out, into the frigid weather Aleksander leans over to whisper to you, "Ivan, Fedyor, and some other Grisha are in the woods. I didn't want to risk anyone's lives but my own. I much prefer them helping from a distance granted our location."

As soon as you're in sight Fedyor smiles and waves at you. Ivan standing beside his husband, with his usual cold demeanor. Once you're in arm's reach though, Ivan is quick to wrap a kefta around your shoulders, asking you, "Are you okay?"

You're quick to ease his worry and wrap your arms around Fedyor. Always comforted by the pair ever since they figured out that you and Aleksander were more than just ‘kind acquaintances' . Fedyor reciprocates your hug, meeting your need for affection from him with a similar need of his own.

Aleksander patiently waits behind you as you greet the small group of Grisha that had accompanied him. Once you turn back to him he's already staring at you with eyes that you can only describe as absolutely lovestruck. As he admires you with a small smile, he tells you, "Let's get on the road, Milaya." Your cheeks slightly flushing as he used the pet name in front of anyone other than Genya, Ivan, or Fedyor.

∾ ▩ °º❤️º° ▩ ∾

You ride on Aleksander's horse on your way to your wedding venue. After multiple hours, you were out of Fjerda, everyone was exhausted, and the horses needed a much deserved break.

You set up camp for the night slinking into Aleksander and Your's shared tent. Although you're far from Fjerda, the weather was still quite chilly. As a result you were quick to snuggle under the blankets of your shared cot. It was a good few minutes before Aleksander arrived, coming to bed and pulling you close to him.

With your time away from each other, Aleksander couldn't stand another minute away from you. Every minute, every second, that ticked by where you weren't by his side made him antsy. He held you like you were the only thing precious to him in the world, because you were. You meant more to him than any title, he would risk anything and everything for you. He would scour any place, any country you could be in. He would burn the world down till it was ash if that's what he needed to do in order to find you.

When you tell him about your insecurities and how you feel like you aren't worth certain things, it hurts him. It hurts him emotionally and physically pains him. He has never loved anyone since Luda, that was until you. You had shone bright like a star in the night sky, a beam of light in the depths of his shadows.

He loved you with the entirety of his heart and soul. He would give you the world, make it kneel at your feet if that's what you wanted. You were everything to him, and he wished that his love for you was enough to prove that. That it scared him when he thought of you passing away. That he would lose his little star and be shrouded in darkness again, cold and alone.

∾ ▩ °º❤️º° ▩ ∾

When you awoke in the morning, Aleksander was gone, but you heard his muffled voice outside the tent. You sat there as you listened to the best of your ability, until Aleksander opened the tent to presumably lay back down with you. Obviously shocked by your consciousness, he asks you, "How'd you sleep?"

"Oh I don't know, I guess I kind of missed you," you teased back at him. He seemed to understand that you were joking and that you actually did miss him dearly. He leans over you and pecks your lips before he turns away from you as he talks, "We need to get back on the road soon, I only paid the officiant for today."

You shoot up before you start getting dressed, remembering today is your wedding.

∾ ▩ °º❤️º° ▩ ∾

You quickly get ready and are on the path to the venue, the venue Aleksander still won't tell you about. Around noon you arrived there, and by 4 you were getting married. You wore a lavender dress with embroidered sage green vines, one of the first gifts Aleksander had given you.

You felt pretty and Aleksander confirmed the fact. At the altar he stood in a kefta that you can only assume Genya made for him. It was his signature black kefta, with lavender embroidery instead of its usual black.

As you exchanged vows in front of your best friends and to the love of your life, you felt tears welling in your eyes. A few days before, you thought that you'd be meeting a different man at the altar, a stranger. But here you were in a small town in the middle of Ravka, marrying the man you never fathomed you'd be able to, during one of the most gorgeous sunsets you'd ever seen.

Aleks looked at you in question as he asked, "Will you take my hand, Dear? Will you let me drag you down into the shadows and depths to love with my entire being?" You could only answer him with a kiss, unable how to answer with words. As you kissed your husband it was filled with love and unsanctioned want. You opened your eyes to see Aleksander's eyes widen with amazement as he looked above your heads. You swiftly looked up to see stars intertwining with Aleksander's shadowy tendrils.

He looked down at you and said, "You-You're a Star Summoner. You're Grisha."

You looked around at your small group of Grisha, including Fedyor and Ivan who were staring at you with both shock and complete awe. They all fell to their knees as they looked at you, them all saying the same phrase, "Sankta Y/N"

∾ ▩ °º❤️º° ▩ ∾

Aleksander grabbed your wrist amplifying your new found powers, and pulled you over to where they had set up camp. He got tired of dragging you along, as he was much faster than you could keep up with, so he picked you up bridal style carrying you the rest of the way.

Once you were inside your shared tent, Aleksander set you down on your cot. Though he practically threw himself at you in a much less graceful and much more hungry, lust-filled manner. He leaned over you before he smashed his lips to yours, you meeting the kiss with equal vigor. He nipped and bit on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You didn't pull away until absolutely necessary. As you both pant, trying to catch your breath, you heard him whisper, "We can live together forever now."

Your heart swells with the admission, the fact that you were Grisha and you would never lose Aleks. That he would be by your side for as long as you both lived. You reply to him, "You're right my love, I'll never have to leave you now." You were too happy to recognize the anger you had towards your parents for hiding this, and also honestly you’re a little preoccupied.

Aleksander slowly starts kissing down your body with a tenderness you had not expected. He kisses every inch of your skin, and all your insecurities and worries melt away. You knew you loved him and he loved you, you knew this was going to be forever, even if nothing else was.

∾ ▩ °º❤️º° ▩ ∾

A/N

Hey guys! This is the second chapter of Aleksander Morozova series, I'm writing this while collaborating with @lost-tothe-centuries! I had some pretty good response and engagement in the first chapter, so here you go! I hope you guys enjoy! Also, always remember that my DMs and requests are always open if you wanna talk. Love y'all! Mwah!

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #i wanna kiss him so bad #i love his face and he's so adorable i swear

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myhairpintrigger · 9 months

Note

Can I request something where fem reader maybe has a very unusual ability and everyone fears her except for Aleksander who finds her fascinating, and he trains her annd saves her from ridicule amongst other Grisha? Ambiguous ending, maybe two parts??

hi im so sorry I have been so awol... I've been so busy and such. but i love this request and I love u anon and I love literally everyone who comes across my work. MWAH big kisses for you all.

word count: 5.2k

warnings: mentions of blood I think.. nothing really

Fascination (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader)

Life had altogether not been very kind to you.

Every wayward turn and harsh awakening in your life had brought you to this very moment.

Your arms were held tightly at your sides by two very tall and very strong Corporalki in red. You’d given up on fighting them off; it was clear they-and you- weren’t going anywhere. You let them drag you roughly towards a large tent, settled amongst other smaller tents and small stands and groups of soldiers. You sniffled quietly and turned your head down to your shoulder to try and rub tears off of your face against your cloak.

A particularly hard shove was given to you just as you reached the opening of the large tent, and you stumbled forward, almost falling to your knees. You would have fallen, if the two men at your side weren’t still holding you, leaving you to partially dangle from their grip before you had to stand back up weakly. You had only just gotten back to your feet before you were pushed down to the ground and released. You caught yourself on your hands and you let out a quiet whimper as the gravel ground dug into your palms. You kept your head down for a moment, staring at the dirt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Eventually, you had the nerve to lift your head, and you wished you’d kept it down. A handful of Grisha in colorful keftas stood around a table and stared down at you with something between disgust and disappointment.

And then there was him.

Clothed in all black save for the little peek of red around his collar, stood The Darkling. The Grisha’s very own general.

He looked down at you quizzically, as if you were a puzzle he was yet to finish putting together. No one spoke for a long time. Or perhaps it wasn’t a long time. You weren’t sure, time seemed to be passing so slowly that you could count your heartbeats comfortably without rush.

“What is this?”

His voice was dark and it made you look away from him, though you could tell he hadn’t looked away from you.

“The deserter, Sir. The Siphoner.” Someone answered, and you assumed it was one of the hulking men behind you.

“I can see that. Where?” He asked. His voice was eerily emotionless, commanding silence and respect from everyone in the room. It practically made you shiver.

“Attempting to get across the Shu Han border. An informant found her and subdued her until we arrived.”

The memory made you wince. Being held in a cellar for days with your hands bound apart from one another in the freezing cold.

It wasn’t like your hands would’ve been of use anyway. You needed your own powers to do that.

That of which, you lacked.

You could only siphon through contact and emulate for a short period of time. If you were to touch an Inferni, you could be called an Inferni for a little while. Same with Heartrender, Squaller, Healer, all of it.

When you were tested as a child, you had clearly tested positive. Your parents had been elated, thrilled that you’d been gifted. Not many parents thought that way, you’d come to realize. From there, you’d been whisked away to train, to advance your abilities. The odd thing was, it didn’t seem like you had any.

It slowly became evident, though, that you were simply using other’s powers around you. You would hold your friend’s hand and shortly after be able to do what they could.

It was rare, they said, but not impossible.

They also claimed it to be dangerous.

You were labeled to be dangerous.

Really you weren’t, at least, you didn’t think so.

After this had become known, no one hardly ever wanted to be around you, and it was like that for years and years until you were enlisted to join The Second Army as a healer. Sometimes. When other healers were willing to let you use their powers. It wasn’t as often as you might think, though. Apparently the process was tiring and painful, though you’d never felt a thing.

Eventually it had become all too much. The loneliness, the constant ridicule, their constant disdainful stares.

So you ran. And you had made it nearly. You’d been away for months, hiding away from and avoiding anyone who might turn you in.

Gravel crunched under a pair of black boots and you lifted your eyes just slightly, pulling yourself back to the present moment.

“Look at me, girl.”

The Darkling’s voice chilled you to the bone and you didn’t dare disobey him. You slowly lifted your head to look up at him and he was already staring down at you. He eyed you as if you were a marvel, a creature walking around with two heads. Curiously, fascinated.

Slowly, like a predator engaging its prey, The Darkling crouched down in front of you and grabbed your chin. He searched your face as if he had to be sure you looked the part.

Maybe you did.

Your face was dirty and tear streaked, and your hair was askew. Your clothes were a sight to see, as well, covered in dirt and tears. All in all, you looked exactly like you’d been running for months.

“Clear the tent. I will question her alone.” He said suddenly and let go of your chin. He stood up and you felt as if you could breathe properly again now that he was no longer touching you. Everyone slowly filed out of his tent and you stayed on the ground, either too weak or too afraid to rise up to your feet.

When it was only the two of you left in the tent, you slowly willed yourself to look up at him as he still stood over you. You were hardly surprised to see him staring down at you still, his gaze unwavering and hard.

“Can you stand on your own?” He asked, nodding down at you.

You couldn’t find your voice, but you laid your hands flat on the ground and shakily pushed yourself up. You stumbled forward a bit and prepared to crash back down to the ground, but The Darkling had reached out and grabbed your upper arms, steadying you enough to regain your balance and stand.

Now he was fully able to take you in. He looked you up and down and studied your tattered clothes and your frail stature and he folded his arms over his chest.

“Are you mute?” He asked sharply and you simply shook your head in reply.

You didn’t dare look into his eyes again. You were terrified already, and looking into his eyes gave you the feeling that you were staring right into a vision of your own death.

“Y/n L/n. You are being accused of deserting, not to mention you are known to hold an odd little ability that could be fatal to your fellow Grisha. You can stay silent, that is fine by me, but if I were you, I’d start explaining yourself quickly.” He stated grimly.

You clutched your hands together nervously and you opened your mouth, a very quiet whine escaping your lips.

“Am I to be killed?” You had meant for it to sound more casual; stronger. Instead your voice wavered and your bottom lip trembled.

“You are not.”

You weren’t sure if you were relieved to hear him say that or not.

You gave him a little nod and he reached out and grabbed your shoulders, none too gently, at that. You winced a little and shied away from him as much as you could in his grip.

“Answer my questions truthfully and you will not be punished as a deserter. You will not evade punishment entirely, but I will make sure you receive nothing too harsh.”

You gave him a shaky nod and wondered what he meant by ‘nothing too harsh’.

“You ran. Why?” He asked and then he released your shoulders, leaving you to sway just a bit.

“I just…” burning tears of shame gathered in your eyes and you looked down to the ground and you bit the inside of your cheek, “…I was so tired of being alone here. Everyone avoids me, as if I’m a disease, and when they don’t, they’re often times cruel. I don’t have anything or anyone keeping me here, why is it a crime that I ran? It is not like anyone wants me here, much less you.” You stated and finally looked up at him.

With your head upright, the tears spilled out of your eyes and down your cheeks, and you turned your head away from him, looking off to the side of the tent. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move. You wanted to look at him, to see if there was an indication of what he might say or do next, but you kept your eyes away from him.

You sniffled a few times and brought your filthy sleeve up to your face to wipe it, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Don’t. Your clothes are filthy.” He said, almost as if he were correcting a child. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it into your palm and gave you a nod.

You stared down at it as if it might grow a mouth and some teeth, but after moment you slowly lifted it up to your face and dabbed your eyes with it. You reached out shakily and offered the handkerchief back to him, but he shook his head.

“No. Keep it. You’ll likely need it more than I.” He replied and you nodded once, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

There was more silence and you shifted your eyes downwards to your shoes. You didn’t need to look up to know that his eyes were on you.

“Siphon from me.” He suddenly commanded, and this had you widening your eyes and turning to look at him.

“No, Sir, I have been given strict orders to never siphon, it’s not natural, it’s an abomination of the Small Science.” You protested but he simply shook his head.

“I am in charge, and I order you to. Clearly it’s natural enough. You were born with it. You weren’t the first and you won’t be the last. You’re just very, very rare. Now, do as I say, and siphon from me.” He commanded once more, his tone authoritative.

You eyed him very cautiously and then you raised your hand up away from your side. Your hand visibly shook as you moved it towards his, and he seemed to get the idea, because he lifted his own hand and moved it towards you. You gave him a little nod and then wrapped your hand delicately around his wrist. His skin was smooth and cold under your touch and you fought back a chill. He just felt like one of the shadows he could summon.

Slowly, you began to draw his power into your own grasp, and you closed your eyes, focusing on the connection between the two of you now, the ebb and the flow of energy from his wrist to your hand. He stood as still as a statue, and after just a moment, you let go of his wrist and pulled your hand back to your side.

You looked up at him as he rolled his wrist a bit and flexed his hand, staring at his skin. You almost expected something to be on it, but it was as flawless as it had been prior.

“That’s all?” He asked and then raised his eyebrow, “You could have taken enough to overpower me and leave the camp and escape. Why didn’t you?” He demanded.

You blinked in confusion, taking a half step back. He was right, you could have. But you didn’t want to. Why didn’t you want to?

“I don’t know, Sir.” You answered timidly and wrung your hands together nervously.

“I do.” He replied.

You looked at him curiously and then he gave you a smile.

It wasn’t a nice smile. It was a cold, ostentatious smile.

“Despite being lonely, you don’t want to be truly alone.”

The ride back to the Little Palace was a very uncomfortable one.

You’d been cleaned up after your meeting with The Darkling. He’d demanded that someone clean you up properly and get you in some clothes that weren’t in ruins. Once you’d been put back together, you sat quietly in his tent before he came back and told you that he was taking you back to the Little Palace. He did not give you a reason as to why, but he did assure you that you were not going to be punished.

You sat in a carriage with one other Grisha now. He wore a purple kefta and his short brown hair sat on his head messily, falling into his face and around his eyes. He hadn’t spoken more than two words to you, but you didn’t feel any sort of contempt in the way he acted. He quietly read from a book across from you, and you pulled your legs up with you on the seat.

You didn’t have a kefta, so instead you’d been given a long grey coat and a tan fur cloak to keep yourself warm in. You absentmindedly picked at your already torn up cuticles and you heard a little sigh from the man in front of you.

“Stop. You’ll make yourself bleed and you’re going to hurt yourself.” He stated and you looked up at him. His book laid in his lap and he was now looking at you, or specifically, your hands.

“It’s a bad habit.” You answered and looked down at your lap.

“It is a bad habit, indeed. So I think you should stop. Before you pick your fingers raw.” His tone had a hint of concern in it that you hadn’t heard directed at you for quite a long time, and it was enough to bring your eyes up to his.

“Well, that’s kind of the point of it being a habit. I can’t really stop.”

“You can. You just have to commit to it mentally.” He argued and then closed his book, setting it aside next to his leg on the seat.

“I don’t think I have any of my wits about me mentally, so I guess I’ll just have to attempt breaking this habit at a different time.” You said with a very dry chuckle.

The man flashed a sad little smile at you and then he shook his head.

“Does anyone have their wits about them, really?” He asked and then looked around the carriage briefly before settling his gaze back on you.

You shrugged at the man and then he leaned forward and offered you his hand.

“I am David.” He introduced himself to you, and you blinked a few times.

If he noticed your hesitancy, he didn’t move back or make it known. Instead, he kept his hand patiently in front of you until you reached out to grab onto it gently, giving it a light shake.

“I’m y/n.” You finally said in return.

David seemed to be pleased with your interaction, because when you two pulled your hands away, he gave you a kind smile and then picked up his book again.

“You aren’t in trouble, you know,” David began and then opened up the book once more, “The Darkling wants you at the Little Palace so that he can keep an eye on you. Your safety was no priority at the camp. He didn’t like that very much.” He finished and then buried his nose back in the book.

David’s words took you by surprise and you blinked a few times, “What do you mean by that?” You asked and eyed the man in front of you.

“I mean exactly what I said.”

“Yeah, but I don’t get it. Why does my safety matter enough to bring me to the Little Palace?” You asked, confusedly. The Darkling shouldn’t care about your safety. You’d met him for the first time only eight hours or more ago, and it wasn’t an overall pleasant meeting, and he received you with little to no kindness.

“Well, you are a Siphoner? Are you not? You can be utilized quite effectively with proper training.” He responded in a monotone, not bothering to look up from his book.

You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest like an indignant child.

“You’re mistaken. Trust me. I’ve been told otherwise my entire life.” You stated.

This pulled his attention away from his book and he glanced up at you briefly.

“Then you have simply been surrounded by people who don’t understand the use of power.” He replied and then gave you an awkward little smile.

You didn’t reply to him after he said this, you simply sat back and leaned your head against the wall. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were until you were in the carriage, and your eyes now felt heavy and you could feel your surroundings start to feel only half there. You pulled your arms underneath the thick cloak and you let your eyes fall closed, unable to escape the grasp of sleep that pulled you deep beneath its depths.

Days had passed, days mostly spent sleeping and having short and quiet conversations with David. You didn’t realize just how tired you were until you had gotten a taste of sleep. Real sleep. Not just little naps while you were on the run. Days of waiting were not in vain, though, because the second the carriage rolled up in front of the Little Palace, you felt a bit of relief. Now you could sleep in a bed, at the very least.

The doors opened to the carriage and a tall man, clothed in a bright red kefta motioned for you to get out of the carriage. You carefully clambered out with David following silently behind you and you stood awkwardly at the foot of the steps that led up into the palace.

A hand pressed itself into your lower back and you spun around to see the Darkling standing at your side. His shoulders were squared properly and his face was as cold and emotionless as stone, eyes reflecting the same expression. He glanced down at you and began to gently lead you up the steps, bringing you into the palace.

“You have been asleep each time I have come to check on you.” He remarked as the two of you moved down a grandiose hallway. His tone was not accusatory, nor was it annoyed. If anything, he was slightly amused.

“Well, I don’t think I’ve had a secure situation to sleep in for the last three months so this has been nice.” You replied quietly and looked down at your feet as the two of you walked.

He hummed and let out a small chuckle, “Secure situation? Meaning…?”

“Meaning your soldiers have been hunting me down for three months and I haven’t had a moment where I haven’t needed to watch my back.” You replied, your tone clipped. You instantly regretted it, too.

He didn’t say anything for a moment and then he tapped your back just once, and you could barely feel it through your cloak, “Well, you are the one that decided to run. Though you have my apologies for the rough treatment leading up to when you came to me for the first time. Is that a fair trade?” He asked, a thin, forced smile playing upon his lips.

You studied his face for a moment and felt your mouth go dry. Of course you’d looked at him before but it’s as if this was the first time you were really seeing him. His dark eyes stole the breath right out of your lungs. His face was chiseled by the hands of saints and his skin was flawless. You blinked a few times while you stared at him and then you let out a quiet scoff.

“An apology, while unexpected, isn’t that fair all things considering.” You replied and then pressed your lips together tightly.

The two of you came to a door that was across from a set of double doors and he pushed it open, nudging you inside with the hand that was against your lower back. You looked around the room that he’d led you into and you gave an approving nod. There was a large, four poster bed with a canopy and cream colored sheets and beautiful furniture made of deep, rich woods. A bouquet of wildflowers sat in a vase atop a the vanity and you turned to look up at The Darkling.

“I hope your quarters are suitable.” He murmured as you took a step away from him.

“They’ll do just fine.” You replied and then rubbed your eyes a few times, still exhausted from your journey.

You felt a hand on your back again and you slowly turned your head around to see him peering down at you.

“You can rest here. Without fear of being hunted.”

“It’s persecution I fear now.”

He was silent for a moment and then he let out a small sigh, shaking his head just once.

“I will not allow anyone to speak down to you. You are Grisha, whether your talent is rare or not.” He finally said.

“Me being Grisha changed nothing before.”

“Well it changes everything now.” He said sternly.

“Why? Why are you being… so benevolent?” You asked and then raised your eyebrows, “I’ve spent my entire life being ostracized, persecuted, belittled… all because of this ability I have. And you’re telling me that you never once even heard about me until I ran ? I know that’s a lie. Why am I important now?” You demanded and then made the mistake of locking eyes with him.

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Instead he kept his eyes on yours unyieldingly. He didn’t let up on his gaze for a while, and when he finally did, you felt a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

“You’ve always been important. I just never knew to what extent until now. You are of great help to me and I’d like to train you according to your gifts. My sincerest apologies for not being more diligent when it came to your treatment.”

His voice was low and it demanded your attention. Demanded your reverence.

“I’d like to sleep.” You whispered, shying away from his burning stare, boring into your face like hot coals.

“Of course.”

His voice was as smooth as silk now as he moved away from you and in a few fluid, almost melodic steps, moved towards your bed. He pulled the covers back and motioned towards it, turning his head back towards you. You eyed him cautiously before you kicked off your boots and shrugged off your cloak, leaving them to be the only mess on the pristine hardwood floors. You made your way to the bed and climbed onto it, laying on your side so that you didn’t have to look up into his eyes again.

He tucked the blankets around your shoulders and then he let out a quiet chuckle; nervousness overcame you like a disease.

“You are afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” You protested before you could even think.

“I make you nervous.”

“Don’t you think you make everyone nervous?”

“Not everyone.”

“You’re wrong.”

He thought for a moment after you spoke and then he moved away from your bedside and walked towards the door.

“Get some sleep, y/n. Come find me when you wake.” He commanded, though his tone was light; nearly on the cusp of gentle.

As he left the room, you were left with the parting gift of sudden silence. You stared at the wall from your position on the bed and your mind ran wild. What if no one liked you here? What if things were the same? You didn’t want to go back to being alone, and you didn’t want to keep feeling alone. Then of course, there was the Darkling, who was mysterious and ambiguous in all endeavors, who all but promised you that you’d not be lonely. You doubted that highly.

Though his presence wasn’t overall unpleasant, the air around him was thick and filled you with an odd nervousness. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so regal and matter-of-fact; stone cold. Or maybe, it was how beautiful he was. You didn’t expect him to be so breathtaking, though you’d heard before that the Shadow Summoner was a sight to see.

Whatever it was, it didn’t allow you much sleep.

“You’re not very good at focusing.” The Darkling remarked as you drummed your fingers against your upper arm.

“I can focus when I’m intrigued.” You stated quietly and twirled a bit of your hair around your finger.

“Then we will go again. And again. And again until you’re ‘intrigued’.”

He was referring to using his power. Power that you’d siphoned from him. He’d been training you- or trying to- for days now. Trying to get you to use what you’d siphoned. It had been easy with other powers. Normal powers. For some reason though, it was much harder to utilize what you’d taken from The Darkling. Nothing seemed to be working, and you were growing bored and frustrated.

You looked up at him as he stood above you while you sat at his desk and you folded your arms over your chest in an insolent fashion.

“I’m tired and this is getting old. I can’t do it obviously.” You huffed and he let out a quiet groan.

“You wondered why you had no friends before and I can answer that for you right now.” He snapped, and you looked up at him, shocked.

“Excuse me?”

You could tell that he regretted it by the way his face twitched and softened and he let out a sigh, “It’s this damned attitude of yours.” He mumbled, “You’re so negative.”

“Right.” You snapped back at him and then turned your head so that he was no longer in your view, “And by the way, I have nothing to be positive about. Deal with the negativity.” You said, irritatedly.

His hand laid itself on your shoulder and you heard him sigh, “I know this is arduous work. But you can do it, you know.” He murmured, gently rubbing your shoulder back and forth.

You slowly turned your head to gaze up at him and you shook your head once, “I would’ve done it by now.” You muttered and then leaned your elbows down against his desk.

He pulled his hand away from your shoulder and he reached out and extended it towards you, palm up.

You stared at his hand confusedly and he wagged his fingers just slightly.

He wanted you to take his hand.

You eyed him cautiously and looked him up and down for just a moment before you shifted a bit and laid your hand gingerly in his own. His slender fingers clasped your hand gently and he looked down into your eyes with an almost eager stare.

“Try now.” He ordered, tone soft.

You looked him up and down before you eyed your joined hands and then you shook your head, “How is this supposed to help?” You asked quietly, but he didn’t answer.

His answer came as a feeling, as if his touch was tugging at something within you, that started in your fingers. Only as a tingle. Then, slowly, it spread up your arms and through your entire body. It was electric, it was empowering, and before you knew it, wisps of shadow were rolling off of your fingertips. Slowly at first, but soon it became more rapid, and the shadows grew larger, and larger, and you gasped. You went to push even more shadows out through your fingers, when the Darkling pulled his hand away from yours and looked down at you as if you’d stolen his very breath away from his lips.

A strange look settled behind his dark eyes and he reached up to take your face in his hand, holding it by your jaw. Gently, he turned your head side to side as if he were examining a rare stone and then he shook his head. Curiously, he brushed his thumb against your jawline and then he let you go.

“You’re a marvel.” He spoke reverently, his eyes staring down into yours.

“I hardly think-“

“No. Don’t argue with me. You could be anything. Everything. You’re dangerous.”

You blinked a couple of times and then you shook your head, your hand traveling up to your face, fingers brushing against the spot that he’d just held, “What was that?” You asked and then held your hand up, wiggling your fingers.

He took your hand in his and examined it closely, as if it was the most unusual thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.

Finally, he let your hand go after a few moments and he looked down at your face, a little smile playing on his lips, “Have you heard of amplifiers?”

“Of course I have.” You retorted, lowering your hand down into your lap.

He gave you a little nod, but said nothing further before he just shrugged and sat down on the corner of his desk, looking down at you. You sighed, exasperated. Oftentimes, the Darkling left you with more questions than answers. You came to the realization that this was simply one of those times. You slowly rose from the chair you sat in and you smoothed down your grey kefta and cleared your throat.

“It’s getting late, sir.” You remarked, doing all that you could to evade his gaze, even if you still felt it on you like a thousand suns.

“Indeed.” Was all he said as he continued to sear you with his stare.

“Your staring is creepy, you know.” You drawled, drumming your fingers on the sides of your kefta.

A little laugh fell from his lips and you had to make sure you heard him correctly. You looked up at him, surprised, to see him smiling down at you as if you were the most amusing thing in the world to him.

“You fascinate me, that’s all, miss y/n.” He said, a playfully lilt in his normally stern tone.

“Never been told that before.”

“Perhaps you should get used to hearing it.”

Perhaps you would.

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naushtheaspiringauthor · 11 months

Text

Treasure of the wayward Prince- Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

You have been living in the little palace for almost your whole life. Your father had been an inferni and you were a tidemaker. It has been a long time since your family had been gone but you've had a few people in the little palace to keep you company. Being a tidemaker wasn't the only skill you had, infact, it had just been so to decide the colour of your kefta.

......................................................................................................

You were walking down the halls of the little palace after getting your diary from your room. You had just finished your training and wanted to spend some time with yourself near the river. That had happened to be the best spot for you to gather inspiration for your writing. You usually wrote whatever your heart had wanted to, poems, prose, songs or just about your day.

You were just about to leave when you heard some noise coming from the library. The library had usually been empty at this hour but someone was there today. So you went inside to get a closer view. It was a boy, moving back and forth around the same two shelves. He had shiny blond hair with eyes the colour of the ocean. He was dressed in a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a tawny brown jacket on top. You have never seen him around before, but he certainly didn't look like a commoner.

"May I ask what you're looking for?" You asked as you stepped closer to him

He was startled when he heard your voice. But he quickly gathered his composure and spoke "You don't look like you're the librarian"

"No I'm not, but I've been around here enough to know who's a regular ad who isn't" you replied as you folded your arms behind your back.

"Well, you happen to be correct. I am looking for some books on information about the true sea' he smiled charmingly

"Then you're looking in the wrong section" you went towards another shelf and pulled out a few books. "So, who exactly are you?" you asked as you placed the books on a nearby table

"I am a lot of things but I'm usually addressed as ''''Prince'''' he replied as he smiled brightly

"Ah, I see, Prince...Nikolai" you replied, not returning his gesture

"I- how are you certain about that? I could be prince Vasily" he slightly turned his head

"Well he surely isn't the kind of Prince to come all the way to the Little Palace, just to search for some books in the library. Plus, I've seen how he looks"

He chuckled at your words. "Hmph, I actually began to think that you're quite smart"

"Well I can assure you that you're not wrong" you said, with a playful smile

Before he could say anything, you heard Zoya calling out your name in the halls. "Ah I have to go, I can already hear how irritated she is. There are your books and try to be a little more mysterious about your identity next time" you smiled

"I will try better next time" he laughed as you hurried out the door.

............................................................................................

It was heavily raining in the middle of the day, so the training was cancelled and everyone was inside. The squallers and tidemakers could have changed the weather to some extent, but they have been told not to meddle with nature and accept their fate. Most of your friends hated the weather but you were incredibly fond of it. You felt a different kind of calmness in the rain that you never did in a bright sunny day. You were outside, sitting near the gardens from where you could feel the rain but not get wet. You were writing in your diary, when you heard a voice behind you "What are you doing here alone?" you got startled by the sudden voice and turned around to see Nikolai standing in a long brown coat over his white tucked in shirt.

"Oh just...enjoying the weather" you replied, putting down your diary

" Oh most people usually dislike it" he said with slight grin and sat next to you

"Do you?" you raised an eyebrow

"No, I think it's rather pleasing. Plus, it helps us take a well needed break from our everyday schedules"

"Yeah...the sound of rain is quite comforting to me. And it gives me a reason to spend some time away from the usual bickering of Zoya and Adrik, and the tauntings of Botkin" you chuckled slightly

He laughed at your words and looked in your eyes, "Do you ever think of...maybe getting away from all your responsibilities. Even if it's for a short time?"

"Oh yeah, all the time. I wish I could run away for some time and, I don't know...become a pirate in the true sea or something" you replied with great enthusiasm

"Wow I was actually sort of thinking of the same thing" he smiled

"Huh I could totally see you becoming a pirate with a, golden tooth and a wierd hat or something" you teased him

"Oh really? well I'm sure you''ll look immensely radiant, even as a pirate" he gave you a playful smirk and winked as he tilted his head

His words made you feel a wierd tingle in your stomach, but you quickly looked away so as to not let him see how flustered you were

"Ah yes, I know I'm way too beautiful to be a scrawny pirate" you quickly gathered your composure and smiled with a snarky expression

"Yes, yes of course you are" he replied and placed his hand on your own

..............................................................................................................................

You hadn't seen Nikolai for months now. And you were incredibly mad at him for leaving without giving you any information on his whereabouts. The darkling had taken you to hunt down the sun summoner and her tracker friend, against your will. And when you had found them, he had hired a "privateer" to take you to find the sea whip. But you had defied him and instead helped Alina and Mal to break free from his control. So now you were on the privateer's ship. He was surprisingly younger than you had hoped. He had red hair and a nose that looked like it had been broken several times. But there was something strange about his eyes that you couldn't place. The only problem with him, was that he was too much of a loud annoying blabber mouth who spoke way more than it was required, and flirted with almost everyone he met or maybe it was just his way of communicating. Though he was quite startled to see you...for some reason.

"How has...ravka been?" Alina asked you, hesitantly.

"It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the whole place is in shambles. The king spends most of his time in his chambers and the queen is too busy tying to get herself choked with her fancy jewels. And their sons, Prince Vasily is too invested in tumbling every other whore he sees. And Prince Nikolai... saints know where he is" Your mind drifted of to him. You wondered where he could've been. Does he not know all that has been going on? Does he not care about us? About me? He probably has found someone better. You were lost in your thoughts before Sturmhond pulled you out of them.

"Well Ravka will certainly be saved when we bring us to our client" he said as he tilted his head sideways and smiled

"Who even is this client?" Mal asked him as he came towards us

"Ah that, is a surprise"

"And how do we know that you won't take us to the fold and throws us offboard then feed us to volcra whom you have been taming the whole time?" You glared at him

"Don't worry darling, I promise I won't do that. Besides, you're too beautiful to be fed off to volcra" he winked at you

You didn't give him a reply, you were probably too flustered to. There was something about him that felt awfully familiar, but you couldn't place it no matter how hard you tried.

As you moved further in your journey, Sturmhond takes you to an oddly shaped boat with Alina, Mal and a few members of his crew. You find the ship quite odd and mysterious and your suspicions were proven true, as the ship begans to fly. It only took you a while to realize that you were getting dangerously closer to the fold. And Sturmhond never had a client in the first place, he wished to take Alina to the fold and attempt to destroy it from within.

"Wow, you are going to throw us offboard and feed us to the volcra!" you said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

It didn't take a long time for the volcra to cloud over your ship and try to stop Alina. Sturmhond handed you a rifle and you killed as many Volcra as you were physically capable of. But soon Alina's light went out for some reason, as she gained her light once again, it had provided enough time to get one of the squallers injured. The crew manage to escape the volcra and crash into the land. The sailors began to blame Alina for the damage, but it only lasted for a while before some first army soldier's gathered around you.

Sturmhond stepped forward and took off his heavy coat and his googles. He waves his hand over his face and his red hair slowly dissaperas along with is awkwardly tilted nose. What took it's place was a perfectly shaped one and his hair began to look shiny blonde.

And it didn't take you long to realize who he is. Nikolai Lantsov...the Nikolai you had known and secretly loved and admired.

A/N- This is my first time posting my writing on here. So I hope this didn't suck. And please let me know if you think I should do a part 2 of this!

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #shadow and bone #grishaverse

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criminalamnesia · 1 year

Text

This is me trying

summary: the last time you saw Nikolai, he told you he never wanted to see you again. now, you’re standing outside his door.

warnings: angst, brief mentions of torture (not explicit), reader is manipulated by the darkling, tidemaker!reader, not proofread, gender neutral reader

author’s note: me? writing more Nikolai while listening to Taylor swift? it’s more likely than you think. this one was inspired by “this is me trying.” listen to it while reading for the full experience :))

The last time you had seen Nikolai, he had told you he never wanted to see you again.

Now, here you are, standing in front of the door to his quarters. You would laugh if you weren’t so terrified of how he was going to react.

Would he still be mad? Would he scream at you, tell at you to get out? No, you thought. He wouldn’t do that.

But maybe time had changed him. He had still been a wild prince when you had last seen him– taking careless risks and throwing himself to the front of every battle. He had inspired you to be better– and you had been, for a time, but you weren’t Nikolai.

You did not have his heart. You did not have his resilience or kindness or grace. You were a burnt-out grisha who had abandoned her post. You were an outcast, a deserter, a failure.

Would he see that?

You inhaled deeply, your fist raised to knock. It hovered above the white wood of the door, shaking slightly. You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to knock. Your fist did not move.

“What are you doing?”

The sound of Nikolai’s voice had startled you, causing the bubble of water you’d been manipulating to pop. You groaned as it fell in droplets back into the lake.

“Saints, Nikolai, when did you get so quiet?” You huffed, lowering your outstretched hands and turning around to face him.

He was still in his First Army attire. He must’ve just gotten back from whatever front he’d been at this time– probably the northern. The Fjerdans had been causing problems lately.

“I was quite loud, actually. Maybe you were just too focused on your bubble.” He grinned, opening his arms to you. You rolled your eyes, stepping forward and into his embrace.

He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. You gave a breathless laugh at his strength.

“I’m happy to see you too, Nik. But you’re going to squeeze me to death–” you said, earning a laugh from him before he mercifully dropped his arms.

You stepped back, giving him a wide smile. He smiled in return, looking you up and down. “New Kefta?” He questioned.

You nodded, subconsciously tugging at one of your sleeves. “The Fabrikators have been trying to incorporate stronger material into the Keftas to make them more protective. Guess I’m lucky they’re doing it now,” you gave a small laugh, but it wasn’t joyful.

Nikolai frowned, his eyebrows raising in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You inhaled, glancing at his face before looking down to your hands. Your hands, which held so much power. Your hands, that would soon be stained with blood.

“The General is sending some of the Second Army up to the northern front. The Fjerdan witch hunters have been abducting the grisha stationed there. He wants us to go put an end to it.”

Nikolai slowly shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. I was just up there– we didn’t hear about any of that.”

“This is a grisha matter, Nik. The General thought it best for it to stay within the Little Palace. I shouldn’t even be telling you.”

“So he’s sending you up there?” Nikolai scoffed. “To what, be abducted like the rest? He should be sending his heartrenders–”

“Nikolai, this may be hard for you to hear, but I’m not who I was when you left. You’ve been gone for months. My abilities have grown– the General is impressed with my skills. This is a chance to show him he wasn’t wrong in showing me favor.”

“So, what, you’re one of his henchmen now? You know what happens to the grisha he ‘favors’–”

“I don’t want to talk about this any more, Nikolai.” You interrupted, holding up a hand. You knew he was right. You knew about Genya. About Zoya. About all the other grisha the Darkling took a shining too. But the Darkling’s favor came with better training, higher status. It made you stronger.

You knew you had to tread carefully, but you were tired of watching Nikolai ride off to battle and doing nothing about it. Now, you could help your prince and your country with your powers, and if Nikolai didn’t understand that, then so be it.

Before he could speak again, you continued. “I’m supposed to be at the stables now, anyway. We’re leaving soon. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you admitted, meeting Nikolai’s gaze. “We can talk about it when I return.”

He swallowed his protests and nodded. “Good luck, then.”

You could hear movement behind the heavy wooden doors. Even at this late hour, Nikolai was still awake. It didn’t surprise you– he had always been a night owl, even when you were children.

You used to sneak away from the Little Palace in the middle of the night and meet Nikolai wherever you could. The gardens, the kitchens, the lake. The pair of you would always make it a challenge to see who could stay up longer, wanting to spend as much time together as you could before sleep took you. Nikolai always won.

You took another deep breath. You had foolishly hoped that he would be asleep– even though you knew he wouldn’t be– so you could have an excuse as to why you didn’t come to see him.

You knew he had to know you were here. Someone had to have told him– probably one of the heartrender twins. They had been keeping a watchful eye on you since you had arrived, and you couldn’t quite blame them.

Perhaps Alina had told him. Even though there was no way she could know your past with Nikolai, maybe she had mentioned who she was traveling with to him. You knew he couldn’t forget you, wouldn’t forget you– just like you with him.

You returned from the northern border a month later, and Nikolai barely recognized you.

You were different– and that, he understood. Battle changed even the best of people. But what happened to you, whatever it was, had made you someone different. Someone colder, darker.

He had heard whispers of what had happened to you up there. You refused to talk to him about it– when you talked to him at all. It was hard to get a word in with you seeing as you were constantly training, or right under the Darkling’s nose.

What you had done, what you had seen, Nikolai couldn’t imagine. The servants that went between the Little and Grand Palaces whispered. They said only about half of the grisha sent to the front came back, you amongst them. They said unspeakable things had happened there– the witch hunters had tortured your fellow grisha– even you.

They said you had drained the life from the men that did that to you and the other grisha, leaving them a deflated heap on the snowy ground– and even when they begged for mercy, you did not stop.

You continued to be sent out after that. The Darkling sent you wherever he could– the border of Shu-Han, on an expedition to Ketterdam, right into Fjerda to rescue taken grisha. Each time you returned, you lost more of yourself. You spoke less to Nikolai.

He was worried, and who wouldn’t be? His best friend had become someone– something unrecognizable. He finally cornered you one day before he was to leave on a journey to Kerch. Little did his family know that he was actually going to begin another escapade as Sturmhond.

“You need to come with me,” he had told you, one of his hands reaching forward to grasp yours. The pair of you were hidden away in the cluster of trees by the lake. You were supposed to be leaving soon for another assignment. Nikolai should’ve already been gone, but he couldn’t leave without seeing you.

You glanced down at his hands on yours. You looked back up at him, his expression pleading as his eyes all but begged you. You only shook your head.

“The General needs me. I’m leaving for Ketterdam in the morning.” You said, and Nikolai shook his head.

“Please, listen to me. The General is destroying you– I’ve heard the stories. You’re someone your younger self would’ve been terrified of,” he frowned, squeezing your hands.

“I’m stronger,” you replied. “And i’m fulfilling my purpose– just as you did. You went off with the First Army, and now I’m doing the same with the Second. I’m fighting for Ravka– for grisha– and I’m someone the General trusts. He isn’t destroying me, Nikolai. I won’t let him.”

“He has blinded you. He has made you powerful, yes, but he’s made you cold. Dark. Remember when we used to meet in the garden at night? When we talked about everything. When it was just us.” He said, and you nodded. “You told me once that you didn’t want to be another one of his pawns. That you would never let yourself fall for his honeyed words.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you pulled your hands from Nikolai’s grasp. “And I’ve kept my word. I haven’t,” you said through your teeth, almost as if you were fighting to convince yourself you were right.

“You have. He’s put you on a pedestal, made you someone you never should’ve become. He’s a monster, and he’s making–”

You gave a humorless laugh, cutting him off. “He’s making me a monster? Is he?” You said, crossing your arms. “He’s given me what I need to do what I need to do. If that makes me a monster, so be it.”

“And those witch hunters you killed, what you did to them– that wasn’t monstrous?”

“That was deserved,” you said. Nikolai took a step back.

“You know that it wasn’t. You’re not that kind of person.”

“You don’t know what they do,” you spat, arms falling to your sides, fists clenched in anger. “You didn’t see what I saw. You played Prince in the first army, when the worst thing that happens is a shot to the shoulder. I watched them,” your voice wavered slightly. “I watched them burn my friends alive. Feed them to their wolves. All of my friends– their screams are etched into my memory. Those Fjerdans deserved worse than what I did,” you spat. “And I’d do it over and over again. And if you can’t understand that, then you need to leave, Nikolai.”

“I’ve seen horrors, too. It’s not a contest,” he spoke, his brows furrowed. “But I didn’t let it do to me what it’s done to you.”

“No, of course not.” You said. “The second son, forever trying to prove he’s not just a bastard.”

You instantly regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, but it was too late to take them back. Nikolai gave a short nod, his hands moving to straighten his shirt.

“This time, when you leave,” he said, his gaze boring into you. “Don’t let me see you again if you come back.”

More movement could be heard behind the door. You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you dropped your fist. You couldn’t face him. It had been a few years, but you were sure he remembered your last conversation all to well. He wouldn’t want to see you.

Even though you had spent every day since deserting the Second Army regretting your last words to him, regretting what you had become, wishing you could see Nikolai again, you were still scared to knock.

You had been awful, and he had been right. The Darkling had manipulated you, just like he had with Genya. With Zoya. With Alina. You just another girl who fell for his manipulation and his lies– who allowed him to make you into something you hated. He had turned a blind eye at your suffering. He used your powers for his own agenda. He had lied, had abused you– and you had ruined the best thing you had had because of his influence.

You didn’t know if Nikolai was aware that when you left for Ketterdam, you never came back to Ravka. You had deserted the Second Army after that assignment, after seeing things you would never be able to wipe from your memory.

And while you were running from place to place, hiding from Kerch slavers or Shu-Han experimenters or Fjerdan witch hunters, you realized that Nikolai was right. Your powers had gone from a comfort to a reminder of the terrible things you had done. You were no longer the General’s star pupil, no longer that naive little tidemaker that snuck away in the middle of the night to watch the stars with the Prince.

You were tired, and in the midst of trying to piece yourself back together from everything you had suffered over the years, you had been roped into helping the Sun Summoner. Perhaps you had agreed to help her to atone– to try and forgive yourself. To begin righting your wrongs.

And now you were standing in the Grand Palace, a place you’d never thought you’d see again– standing outside of your once-friend’s quarters.

“Saints,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head to try and disperse the anxious thoughts crowding it. “Why is this harder than battle?”

You raised your hand again, and finally, you knocked.

Nothing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Nikolai must’ve gone to sleep–

The doors creaked opened to reveal the prince, his blond hair tousled– probably from running his hands through it as he thought (it was a nervous tick of his)– and his eyes tired.

You dropped your hand to your side as Nikolai looked you up and down.

“You’re alive,” he breathed, his eyes meeting yours. You gave a small nod.

Maybe no one told him of your arrival, after all.

“Saints,” he gave a small chuckle, stepping into the hallway. “You’re alive!”

He engulfed you in a hug, his arms squeezing you like they had so many times in the past.

“Hey, Nik,” you breathed, a small smile creeping onto your lips.

“I missed you, too.”

And those words held more weight than he would ever know.

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roselibrary · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 || 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

The Darkling x OC Brekker/Rietveld (Grisha Character)

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: the generals night sky was what they called her. She made his world glow and in doing so he promised her anything she wished.

Requests are open!

Kaz Brekker often wondered if his sister missed him. He wondered if she ever reminisced about her time with them before she went away. Before she became Grisha. His memory is faint, but he remembers well enough the bright grin, kind eyes that shone their brightest in the dark, the long dresses she favoured and the tight corsets that he only now understands were used as a means of attracting attention. His sister had adored that. Adored the attention her gift gave her. She shone like the stars she commanded flying fast and free and blinked out of sight in his mind just as they did each night. His sister was a shooting star one that had long since left his atmosphere with no intention of returning.

Kaz Brekker remembered the day they came. The red keftas and the blue all stood fiercely in front of his sister who held her otherworldly glow. Then he came, tall, dark, and fierce; a black kefta that swirled about him just as his shadows did. He brought forth the darkness and Kaz watched as his sister glowed; he watched as the stars filled the man's shadows and encircled them both like they, too, were constellations in the sky. Kaz knew, as he hid behind barrels with his brother, that their lives would never be the same again. His sister had always wanted more and as he saw the adoration, greed and, what he would soon come to understand as, lust take hold of the one they called the Darkling he knew his sister would fly away. She, too, had the same look reflected in her own gaze; two souls connected as one that fateful day on a long-forgotten farm. The darkness embraced the stars and in doing so intertwined two souls who would never be parted.

Kaz remembers the shock in his eyes when the darkness faded, and the sun reigned supreme once more. He saw those in red turn swiftly in his direction taking hold of himself and his brother. He watched as his sister's eyes glimmered with something akin to regret and grief before it was gone replaced with that dazzling glow and ethereal smile as she knelt before Kaz.

“Sweet brother, I must leave now. You understand, don’t you? I have to go and help those who are like me but do not worry I will visit,” poor sweet Kaz could not tell how brittle his saint-like sister's smile truly was, “Jordie will look after you, won't you?” his sister turned her head to his elder brother whom was stock still withholding tears he knew couldn’t fall; lest his younger brother realise the true magnitude of this goodbye. Unable to speak the eldest of the two boys simply nodded his head once and swallowed the lump in his throat. The sister's smile faltered for a moment and a degree of hesitancy took up on her visage - at least it did until the hand of a general grasped her own and the assuredness returned tenfold. Once more turning her gaze to her younger brother she smiled sweetly and embraced him for a final time.

A gentle kiss to his forehead and a whispered promise gone on the wind was the last Kaz Brekker felt of his sister before she was swept away in a swirl of black. Ushered into a carriage and lost in the gaze of a man whose eyes were as dark as the night sky, never to be seen again.

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

A Courtship of Shadows

Part Two

Pairing: Fae!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Once again, Aleksander finds you at the edge of a ballroom and he finds himself more and more interested by you with every passing moment.

Warnings [18+]: mildly suggestive context (touching and Aleksander’s thoughts).

Word Count: 3K

My Masterlist • Part One

“That’s the third person she’s turned down.”

“There is no need to provide me with a running commentary, Fedoyr,” Aleksander remarks drily, swallowing down a mouthful of bitter wine as he keeps his gaze fixed purposefully away from whatever suitor had asked to dance with you.

If Aleksander’s theory is correct, and you have Fae blood in you, the strangeness people had observed during your childhood is slowly shifting into an allure that the humans don’t quite understand, but they act upon it nonetheless.

When he does risk a glance in your direction he observes the restlessness in your eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realise you are bored. He can’t help but think of you attending one of his own balls at the Grand Palace in Os Alta. He wonders whether you would find more enjoyment among his court.

Aleksander finds you intriguing.

Ever since you had admitted that your mother thought you were a changeling child, he’s been entertaining the possibility that you might be Fae.

He knows you have been contemplating what he told you, about the possibility of two humans conceiving a Fae child. Though Aleksander doesn’t believe that was the case for you. He suspects that your father was Fae, or at least had some Fae blood in him.

He finds himself wondering about how you know so much about the Fae - especially the rules and tricks his kind use against humans. Perhaps your father had taught you, before he died.

As his mind wanders, he imagines what your Fae form might look like. Whether you would have thick curled horns like Zoya, or delicate pointed ears like himself. Whether your teeth would sharpen, or if your eyes might change colour.

Living in the human realm for your entire life, you have been deprived of the magic that lingers in the soil of Aleksander’s kingdom. The same magic that provides Fae food with its luxurious taste that drives humans to addiction, as well as connecting every Fae to the making at the heart of the world.

Whilst you seem healthy enough, he can’t stop himself from thinking of the toll such a disconnect from the Fae might have taken on you.

Without thinking, he moves towards you, leaving Ivan and Fedyor at the side of the room. The crowd parts for him easily, lords and ladies averting their eyes as he passes them. A few people stare openly, watching as he walks across the ballroom.

He’s wearing one of his most formal keftas, black with shimmering silver threads woven amongst the dark embroidery. This morning Genya had tailored his features to appear more human-like, but the nobles around him still recognise Aleksander as something not quite normal.

Before he can reach you, someone stops at your side. Whilst the man doesn’t turn to address you, Aleksander can see your mouth moving as you take a sip of your wine. There’s a minute wrinkle to your nose as you swallow the dark liquid and it appears you’re as fond of the royal vintage as Aleksander is.

He might stand out amongst the humans, but Aleksander has always been rather gifted at blending into the shadows. As a result, he finds it easy enough to stroll lightly around the table you’re standing in front of and lean casually against a marble pillar nearby. The perfect spot to overhear your conversation under the guise of watching the crowd of dancers gathered in the ballroom.

“I assume you have something for me,” you say quietly to the man beside you.

“Not much, the usual trivial gossip, childish whispering really.”

“Dimitri, I’ve been dealing with the rumour mill for years. Whatever you’re trying to protect me from, I assure you, I can handle it.”

The man - Dimitri - sighs quietly and the two of you are silent for a long moment.

“They think you’re involved with Lord Kirigan.”

Aleksander hones in on the conversation immediately at the sound of the name he’s been using among the human court, to seem approachable without surrendering his true name.

“Involved?” you repeat.

“That you’re warming his bed,” Dimitri elaborates.

“Oh.”

Genya has a particular talent for collecting gossip and Aleksander had been made aware of these rumours only yesterday. He’s impressed that you seem to have your own system in place to remain informed of the rumours involving yourself.

“You rarely address him during social functions aside from basic pleasantries,” Dimitri explains. “They think you’re hiding something.”

“And yet if I spend any amount of time with him, then they will all think I’m conspiring with the Fae,” you remark with a humourless edge to your tone.

“Well, you can’t blame them, given the rumours about your…”

There’s a sharpness in your eyes that has Dimitri’s words faltering and a shiver runs down Aleksander’s spine at the sight of you looking so commanding with a mere glance. The thought passes through his mind before he can stop it, you would make a formidable Queen.

“Do you have anything else to say?”

Dimitri looks down sheepishly for a moment.

“I think you already know the rest. Kirigan accepted Rathbone’s invitation to Lichen Manor, though no one knows if he’s planning to join in on the hunting season.”

“Not on Rathbone’s land, but he might accept someone else’s invitation.” Aleksander is intrigued by your causally confident answer, and luckily Dimitri seems equally curious for an explanation which you promptly provide. “Rathbone usually hunts deer on his land, and Kirigan won’t kill a deer, they’re practically sacred in East Ravka.”

The nobles in this country always refer to Aleksander’s kingdom as the Fae Kingdom, refusing to acknowledge the historic connection between the two lands. To them, the human kingdom is the true Ravka. It’s clear you don’t share their views.

He’s once again surprised that you know about Fae customs. Aleksander’s grandfather had created the first white stag many centuries ago, and since then his family has safeguarded the species.

In the springtime, small white fawns can often be seen wobbling about the grounds of the Grand Palace as they take their first steps and Aleksander briefly wonders if you would like to see the deer for yourself one day.

“I heard someone mention he intends to visit Hawthorne House while in the country.”

Aleksander knows that Hawthorne is your childhood home, the family estate that your cousin will inherit when he is of age.

“Mother will be pleased,” you remark.

“Apparently she invited him.”

“She’s most likely looking for an excuse to host a ball.”

“You didn’t know?”

A small sigh shifts at your shoulders.

“No. We haven’t spoken for several weeks.”

“Will you be spending your summer at Hawthorne?”

“I suppose. It’s what I usually do, though if Mother is planning a ball I might make myself scarce.”

There’s a small hum of acknowledgement from your informant.

“Speaking of, I’d better move on.”

“Thank you, Dimitri.”

He nods politely and steps away from you without a word.

Aleksander watches your expression change now that you are alone; exhaustion and worry touches your features as you pour another glass of wine.

He decides to step out of the shadows, moving around the table and through a handful of people, to appear at your side.

“Your highness,” you greet him with a polite bow.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smile as he inclines his head in acknowledgement.

“Good evening, my lady. How are you enjoying the festivities?”

He watches your expression falter slightly, that intelligent glimmer sparkling in your eyes as you attempt to work your way around his question. He knows you aren’t enjoying yourself but you won’t admit it. However, the Fae consider it impolite to lie, especially to someone in the nobility, or royalty like Aleksander.

“Your pianist is very talented.”

He smiles with a nod of appreciation before he glances over at Marie as she sits at the piano placed in the centre of the king’s musicians, her fingers moving delicately over the ivory.

The quickest way to appease Aleksander is to compliment his people, and you appear to have noticed this. It both infuriates and enamours him. To feel so seen by a stranger is unnerving, but Aleksander can see an equal amount of you.

He watches as you take a sip of your wine, and once again you appear to be as unimpressed by the taste as he was earlier.

His thoughts move to the small basket that sits on a side table in the guest rooms he has been occupying whilst staying at the human palace. The basket which is filled with Fae food, in case of an emergency or a bout of homesickness from one of the younger Faefolk in Aleksander’s entourage.

Now he imagines taking a luscious red apple, cutting a slice with his knife and holding the portion of fruit to your lips. The juice shimmering on your lips and the gleam in your eyes as you take a bite. The way your lashes might flutter as the pleasure sweeps through you. After all, you may have some Fae in you, but you’re still human. For now.

He wonders how you might sound afterwards, whether your words would wracked with need or perhaps a dreamy sigh, as you thank him. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought of you offering such power to him.

Aleksander clears his throat, attempting to discard the distracting nature of his thoughts of you. Unfortunately, the noise attracts your attention prompting you to eye him expectantly and he finds himself at a loss for words.

“I was considering stepping out onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air,” he says with a small nod towards the french doors on the far side of the ballroom. “Would you care to join me?”

Being seen alone with you would do little to dispel the rumours surrounding the two of you, however, Aleksander cannot find it in himself to care for the opinion of the human nobility. He knows you would face more scrutiny than he ever would for such a thing, but he hopes he can one day convince you of how little these people matter.

“I’d love to,” you say softly. The breath in Aleksander’s throat catches at the honesty in your words and his eyes remain locked on yours as he offers you his hand.

When you take his hand with a small smile, he finds himself wishing you weren’t wearing gloves tonight. However, the intricate white lace of your gloves does allow him to feel the warmth of your skin and it looks far better on you than the silk often favoured by the ladies of the human court.

Delicate frills encircle your wrists, allowing him to admire the bare skin of your forearms, glowing under the light of the ballroom as he leads you towards the terrace.

The cool evening air brings some clarity to Aleksander’s thoughts and he puts a respectful amount of distance between the two of you as he stands by your side in front of the stone wall that surrounds the terrace.

Aleksander has always felt more comfortable during the night and it seems you favour the stillness too, though he will admit that his assumption is based on how alluring you look in the moonlight.

Heavy black clouds gather ahead and Aleksander can taste rain in the air. A downpour is about to begin but he cannot find it in himself to draw you back into the light and heat of the ballroom, especially when you look so soothed by his quiet company - even as you engage in small talk with one another.

“I hear you’re planning a tour of East Ravka on your return to your kingdom,” you remark lightly.

He nods.

“As much as I intend to enjoy the summer here in West Ravka, I find myself longing to reacquaint myself with my country after such an absence.”

“It is a good thing for a king. To love your country and people so much.”

“As an expression of goodwill, I extended an invitation to your king though he regretfully cannot join me for the journey.”

“His health is of utmost importance at the moment,” you reply smoothly. Not a lie, though Aleksander can see that you want to soften the rejection. He knows why the human king does not wish to visit the Fae Kingdom, but he will accept your attempt at excusing your king’s superstition.

“Of course.”

He hesitates for a moment. He wants to study your reaction to what he is about to say.

“He informed me that I could extend my invitation to anyone else in his court.”

As expected, you turn your head to face him. In the distance, thunder rumbles lowly.

“Who do you plan to invite?” you ask quietly.

He steps closer, watching as your gaze flickers from his eyes down to his lips.

“There is only one person who I believe will appreciate my kingdom to the extent it deserves.”

He is close enough to smell your perfume and he is thoroughly tempted to duck his head down and trace his nose over the hollow of your throat where he knows the scent will be the strongest.

Then a raindrop falls on his head. Another falls on your face, tracing down your neck. Soon the rain is falling hurriedly and your lips part in surprise as the chill rises to your skin.

Aleksander relishes in the sweet scent of rain and he smiles at the refreshing sensation of rainwater soaking through his kefta. But he knows humans aren’t particularly fond of rain.

“Perhaps we should return inside?” he suggests.

He watches in awe as you shake your head, a wide smile illuminating your face.

Aleksander stares as you tilt your head back, providing him with an exquisite view of your neck, bared so beautifully, and his eyes roam over the deep neckline of your dress as droplets of rainwater roll down your exposed skin.

Saints, he should look away.

He wants to ruin you.

As your eyes flutter open, still heavy-lidded to protect yourself from the rain, your gaze meets his and Aleksander is certain his heart stops as you smile at him. He steps closer, his gaze acting as his hands wish to, scrambling over your form as the fabric of your dress clings even closer to your skin.

Something in your own eyes darkens and Aleksander wants to devour your lips with a heated kiss and consume each and every moan he can wring from you. Instead, he traces his knuckles faintly over your cheek, following the path of a droplet as it runs down to your neck.

His touch lingers against your collarbone, swiping his thumb over the water collected there by your chest. He can see the rapid movement of your breathing as your eyes remain fixed on him and the heat of your gaze warms his entire body, flooding down to the hardness growing beneath his trousers.

He wants to take your hand and press it against the bulge there. He wants to see your lace-clad fingers roam over him.

When he smooths his fingers down the length of your bodice, ignoring the swell of your breasts in favour of tracing a path down to your stomach, he sees you gasp silently. Lips parted, you stare wide eyed, and Aleksander wonders whether you have ever laid with someone.

Fae do not wait for marriage and many engage in revelries that would cause a permanent scandal in the human realm. He wonders how flustered you would be, if you saw how brazenly the members of Aleksander’s court touch one another in public.

A smirk curls at the corner of Aleksander’s mouth as he observes your sudden fixation on his lips. Surely you wouldn’t object to indulging in a kiss? Not when you look so willing.

Just as Aleksander begins to lean in, you step backwards.

“You’re right. We should return to the ballroom.”

He nods, though he doesn’t make an effort to move yet.

“Not in this state. Might I suggest the door to the left?”

He nods in the direction of the door which will lead to a hopefully deserted hallway. Returning to the ballroom together, soaked through, will only lead to more rumours and Aleksander doesn’t want you to feel ashamed by what has just occurred between the two of you.

He smiles softly when you nod in agreement and he follows you through the doorway and into the quiet hallway. Sounds from the ballroom are muffled but Aleksander can hear a waltz playing and people dancing to the tune.

He watches as you remove your gloves, attempting to wring out the poor scraps of fabric. A shiver shakes your body and Aleksander notices the goosebumps on your skin as a few stray raindrops linger there.

Plucking out his handkerchief, he is pleased to find the fabric has remained dry enough to wipe the water from your face which he does so with a careful murmur,

“Here. Allow me.”

There is no response from you as he continues to dry your neck, sweeping over your collarbones and dipping down momentarily to your cleavage. Without the all-encompassing patter of the rain, he can hear how your breathing shifts. He takes mental notes of the areas that make you inhale sharply or sigh softly.

Once he is done, he hands you the handkerchief to dry any spots he may have missed.

“Keep it,” he insists softly.

The only form of thanks you offer him is a small nod of appreciation, but your lack of verbal thanks doesn’t vex him as it used to. Now, he wants to see how far he can push you before you thank him and is pleased every time you fail to fall into his trap because that alone means he must try harder at the next opportunity.

He takes your hand, now bare as he had wished for earlier in the evening, and lifts it to his lips before he gifts you with a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He selects his next words carefully, hoping to leave a lasting impression on you.

“I hope you have a pleasurable evening, little blossom.”

He smiles as you blink dazedly at him, inclining his head before he releases your hand and heads down the hallway towards his rooms to dry off.

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

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

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

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

#aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #fae!aleksander morozova #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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dearmantis · 11 months

Text

So I stayed in the darkness with you

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x wife!Reader

Summary: When you finally wake up and the joy of seeing your husband alive and well dies down you have a conversation you've always wanted to avoid.

Warnings: mentions of death, murder and violence, mentions of grisha persecution, this is not a healthy relationship but they love each other very much, slight gaslighting, mentions of human trafficking

Word Count: 3.6k words

Authors Note: I really thought I would never write this, but I'm having a rare moment where I crave comfort. Also, a few people asked for this (and apparently, some people cried after part 2??? I'm so sorry about that I hope you guys are alright now!). I think this is the end of this? Its not the ending I expected when I first wrote the A lost embrace one shot but it is where we ended up. I hope you guys like it :) I'm not a native English speaker and this isn't edited.

The title of this part (and the name of the series) is from Cosmic Love by Florence + the Machine

Previous Part | Masterlist

When you wake up, it's to the sound of a few birds chirping outside and waves crashing against rocks. You don't open your eyes for a while, instead choosing to enjoy the soft atmosphere around you, letting yourself glide into consciousness slowly and carefully.

It's warm and soft, wherever you are. You feel safe.

Your arms and legs still feel a bit sore even without trying to move them, so you simply breathe in and back out, enjoying the fresh air that faintly smells of lavender, salt and rosemary.

With every minute you spend laying there, eyes still tightly closed, you notice more things around you.

A weak breeze moves the leaves on a tree outside. Occasionally, you can hear muffled steps coming from somewhere other than wherever you are right now. Someone other than you is in the room, fabric rustling quietly when they move. You're not afraid.

It takes a while until you feel ready to try and open your eyes, and when you do, your gaze imediately and instinctively move to the chair next to your bed where your husband is waiting for you, his dark eyes glued to your face and a glass of water in his hand. He's not wearing his kefta, you notice. Just a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Not a single speck of gold is visible on him.

A small smile charms itself onto your lips before you can stop it.

"Do you feel ready to rejoin the world of the living?" he asks quietly, waiting for your nod before reaching over to hold the glass of water against your lips.

You empty the glass quickly, your dry throat desperate for any kind of liquid. He takes the glass away slowly, moving to fill it up with more water before placing it back against your lips.

You drink three glasses of water that way. That's how much you need to drink to banish the itching from your throat. Damn those soldiers.

"How long... how long was I asleep?" You ask after Aleksander places the glass back down on the nightstand next to the bed. He doesn't respond for a while, instead moving carefully to check if your body is fully tucked in and warm under the thick blanket covering your body.

"Two weeks," He answers finally while he shuffles around. "You were woken up a few times to make sure you eat and drink, but I doubt you remember that. Fedyor thought it was best if your body got time to recover energy on its own. The two weeks in the cage, the torture, the starving and dehydration, lack of sleep, and even the healing took a huge toll on your body."

The Shadow Summoner moves back to his chair, but before he sits down, he checks if your pillow is fluffy, his gaze awfully serious considering his current task.

Letting the information settle for a bit, you look around in the room you're in. You don't recognize where you are. The old, dark wooden floors are new to you, just like the walls decorated with small drawings and letters you're too far away from to read. When you look outside, you see the ocean.

"Where are we?"

Your hand moves to grab Aleksanders wrist before he can step back to sit down on his chair again, carefully pulling him closer towards you. He looks tired, deep shadows visible below his dark eyes. He needs to rest, probably more than you do, considering you apparently slept for two full weeks. A small, amused smile finds its way onto his lips before he carefully moves to sit down next to you on the large bed you're occupying. You move to give him space, encouraging him to lay down instead of sitting.

"I'll be more relaxed if you're next to me," you reason when he tries to argue, and the mighty, dangerous Darkling gives in, slipping under your blanket and resting his head next to yours on the pillows. You're still mad at him, a deep-rooted hatred for him burning deep in your chest, hotter than the sun itself, but feeling him next to you is nice. It almost feels safe.

Once he settles down, he answers, his voice even quieter and softer than it was before.

"In Fjerda. Kenst Hjerte, to be exact."

Ulla. You're with Ulla. Outside of Ravka. Away from everything he has built. Away from his sun summoner.

"Ivan is still in Ravka with a few others to make sure that no Grisha are left in cages. The rest is up here."

You want to say something, like acknowledge the fact that it must've been almost impossible to move a large group of Grisha through Fjerda undetected, but you don't want to interrupt him. He has that far away look in his eyes, and you assume this must be the first time he's letting himself actually work through and think over the events of the past month.

"Ulla wasn't particularly excited to see such a huge group, you can probably imagine. She has never been fond of company, after all, but she accepted it as long as she could stay away, and I don't tell anyone about her presence."

A smirk appears on his lips, and his eyes find yours. "The last bit that convinced her was the absence of Baghra, of course. As soon as she found out that she was still in Ravka, she was suddenly alright with everyone staying as long as the group doesn't pull attention towards the islands, and no one get's close to her."

Mirroring his smile, you watch him for a few seconds, carefully turning your body to lay on its side.

"So we're hiding again."

Aleksander opens his mouth to respond, probably ready to justify his decision, not realising that he doesn't have to. You're glad. Disappearing back into hiding is arguably the first sensible decision he has made since the sun summoner showed up. You're just surprised that he got to this decision himself. He's usually not someone who admits defeat, at least not without you forcing him to. You expected him to do something stupid, like try to fight the entire First Army and the Sun Summomer on his own and get killed in the process.

"I've never really been in hiding before, not since I was a child, at least. Most of the others never had to be. This will probably be really weird, but I'm excited to learn. Are we going to stay here or move somewhere else?"

He seems a bit surprised by the fact that you're not against his decision, pausing for a few seconds to study your facial expressions before he answers.

"I hope to stay here as long as possible, but we have to be prepared to leave any minute. I hope that Ivans group can collect the last Grisha that don't want to serve Vasily and come up here without attracting too much attention, but it's impossible to tell if that will work out."

You nod slowly, carefully putting together a picture of what has happened in the month that you've been out of the loop.

"Do you think there's a risk that Vasily could find out that we're hiding here and tell the Grimjer family? Maybe as an offering of some kind to kindle peace between Ravka and Fjerda and end the war?"

The darkness that flickers in his eyes for just a second makes clear that he has thought about that possibility as well. It would make sense, after all. Give up the Darkling, his wife, and the Grisha that side with them in exchange for peace. You are all considered enemies of the ravkan royal family anyway, so it wouldn't be a loss for Vasily.

"The risk is always there, but I have hope that the preparation of the royal wedding will distract everyone enough to make sure that we can get everyone out of the country without anyone noticing. The people want to celebrate their sun queen and hope for a better future. It should be easy for skilled soldiers to get through and out of the country unnoticed."

It takes you a few seconds until you realize what he just said, and when you finally do, a confused frown appears on your face.

"Sun queen? Is Vasily marrying Alina?"

Aleksander nods.

"And you're not... you're not on your way to rip him to shreds and take her for yourself?"

He let's out a long, loud sigh and turns his head to look at the ceiling, choosing to stay silent for so long that you start to believe that he's not going to respond at all. The only proof that you have that he's actively thinking about his response are the shadows slowly crawling over the floor and walls, swallowing the room and covering you under the familiar blanket of his very own darkness.

You have spent many private moments like this, cloaked by his powers, including your first kiss, your first time sleeping together, and your wedding night. As long as he controls his shadows, you will always have a home.

When he finally does speak, it's soft and light as a feather, his voice drifting through the air like an ancient melody.

"In those two weeks where I was convinced I would be too late, that you were dead, I learned something very important about myself."

Behind him, the shadows crawl up to cover the window, swallowing the last bit of light in the room.

"You are part of me the same way the shadows are part of me. Even if I hate you and you hate me, I can't change that. Losing you would be like losing a vital organ. Even if you chose to despise me for eternity, to never speak to me again, I need to be around you. I'm not fully myself if I'm not with you, sweet girl. You are part of me, just like I hope I am part of you."

You can't see him, but you can hear how he turns his head to look at you. "You can hate your heart and your powers as much as you want, you can't get rid of either. You need both to survive. And I need you the same way."

If anyone else, literally anyone else in the whole world had said this to you, you would've laughed so loud that you could still hear it in the Fold, but hearing those words come out of Aleksanders mouth, especially in that tone, makes you pause.

You know how he sounds when he lies, how his tone shifts to make every word sound just a bit smoother, a bit more convincing, but none of those signs are noticeable now. It's just his voice, in the same, normal, serious tone he uses during important discussions. The same tone he uses when he marries you once every hundred years.

"I have waited many centuries for the sun summoner. I can wait a few more if that means I can keep you with me."

The shadows retreat from the window, letting sunlight back into the room, but they continue to cover the walls, floor, and ceiling.

The light shows you his facial expression, the warm smile that softens his features and smooths the wrinkles in his skin.

"And what if I don't want to stay with you?" You ask quietly, afraid that you could shatter the atmosphere if you speak too loudly. "You hurt me a lot, Aleksander. I don't think I can do this again. What do I do if you randomly decide that you actually want the sun summoner more than me? If you leave me behind? What do I do if she dies and a new sun summoner appears in 300 years and you fall in love with them as well? I can't be your little bed warmer that fills the space next to you until your sun summoner comes back. I'm not strong enough to go through this again. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years, not in a thousand years. I can't do it again."

You try to turn away from him, but before you even get the chance to move, he wraps his arm around your torso and pulls you on top of him, every inch of your body touching his. His large hands cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"What can I do to prove to you that I will never leave you again?" he asks earnestly, and you can't stop yourself from whispering as you harshly move your head to escape from his grasp, your voice so quiet that it barely makes a sound at all.

"Kill Alina"

Your husband laughs, this time louder, amusement clear in his gaze as he grasps your face once more to make sure your eyes meet his.

"What was that, little wife?"

"What?"

"What you just said. You said something about Alina."

"No, I didn't. What are you talking about? Why would I talk about her while I'm lying on top of you? You must be hallucinating because of how exhausted you are." Your face contorts with mock concern, and Aleksander scoffs, swatting your hand away when you try to touch his face the way he's touching yours. "You should really sleep, my love. This isn't healthy for you at all. Come on, let's sleep. Good night."

You lean forward to press a quick good night kiss onto his lips – more of a peck than a kiss, really – when his grip on your face suddenly tightens, a loud squeak leaving your lips as he pushes you off of him and positions himself above you, switching your positions.

For a few seconds, you just stare at each other, taking each other in for a few seconds until Aleksander slowly bends down to press his lips against yours.

It's a soft kiss. Slow and sweet with an underlying bitterness that you want to ignore but can't.

His weight on you is familiar despite the fact that he isn't crushing you into the mattress the way he usually would, holding himself up with his arms to keep the majority of his weight off of your still recovering body.

When he finally lifts his head and ends the kiss, you smile at him for a second before seriousness washes the softness from your face.

"I'm serious, Sasha. You hurt me. A lot. And I'm not strong enough to withstand this again. If you want your sun summoner, tell me now. I won't even leave, I promise, so you can just tell me. I just want to be prepared, please." Unshed tears fill your eyes, turning your sight blurry as you stare up at your husband who simply watches you, his own face focused solely on you, face blank like a sheet of paper as he listens to your words.

"You left me. After more than 200 years together, you left me for a child. You lied to me and deceived me, pushed me to the side, and ignored me. Two centuries of partnership thrown away because of her. How am I supposed to ever trust you again?"

You regret letting him turn you now. Sitting on top of him gave you a bit of strength, made you feel stronger and bigger than you really are, especially right now in your weakened state. Now you feel small, caged in by his body and his watchful gaze that you're unable to escape. Pathetic, that's how you feel. You should be stronger than this by now, yet here you are, fighting back tears like a child.

"What if you suddenly decide you want her instead of me in a year or two? Do I have to put myself into a life-threatening situation just to remind you that I'm apparently important to you? What will it take next time? All of Fjerda hunting me? Getting sold like cattle in Ketterdam? Experiments in Shu Han? Is that what needs to happen to keep you interested in me? Because that's not worth it, Aleksander. I love you, I do, but I deserve better than that."

He doesn't react for a while, his eyes simply studying your face while he thinks over his response. After a few minutes, he lets himself sink down next to you, laying back on his side, his gaze still glued to you.

Aleksanders dark eyes do not move from you for what feels like hours, taking in every pore, every wrinkle, every bit of texture, taking his time to catalogue every single milimetre of your face in his mind.

He watches how you try to blink away your tears, angry at yourself for showing weakness in a moment where you have to be strong, and he hates himself for pushing you so far away from his heart that you feel like being vulnerable around him, showing weakness in from of your own husband, is a mistake.

He watches you bite your chapped lips, tearing the flesh and covering your front teeth with a bit of blood. An act of self-punishment or a nasty habit you may have developed while he was occupied with Alina? He hates himself more for not being able to answer that question.

It takes a while, but then his hands move to cup your face, holding you like a precious gem, his rough hands suddenly softer than cotton.

Aleksander doesn't tear up like you do. His hands don't shake, and his voice doesn't break when he speaks, but you can feel his sincerity ringing in the air like a bell.

"I'm sorry."

He apologized several times when he found you. Panicked, pained apologies filled with dread and relief and more fear than anyone should be able to feel. But now he's calm. He's not scared of death ripping you out of his grasp in the next minute, isn't trying to lift some of his own guilt off his shoulders before you die in his arms. He had two weeks of processing his thoughts on his own. He had time to think over every mistake he has made, and he intends to right them, starting with you and what he has done to you.

"I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like you weren't enough. I'm sorry for acting like you aren't enough. I'm sorry for forgetting how much greater you are than me. You are and will always be the most precious thing in my life, the most wonderful thing the making could've ever given me. I am a foolish man, but I should know better than that. And you shouldn't forgive me. I do not deserve forgiveness, but I can't help but hope for it anyway. I pray that you find it in your endlessly kind heart to give me one last chance. If you do, my love, my beautiful, wonderful, perfect little wife, I swear I'll make you queen. I will end the Lantsov line and kill the sun summoner and give you the country we once called home. I will give you anything you want, I promise it."

A loud sob tears through your throat, tears running freely over your face and soaking into the pillow below you as you listen to him bear his old, rotten heart and soul to you.

"I don't want the throne," you rasp out. "I just want you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"I know. And I failed to give it to you, but I promise that this will never happen again. Kill me if it does. Stab me in the heart while I sleep, poison my food, slit my throat. I swear that I will not defend myself. Bring my head to the Apparat and let him turn you into a Saint if I betray you again, my love, but please give me this one chance to prove myself to you. I will not fail you again, I swear it."

You almost laugh at that, but the shimmering in his eyes stops you before you can even smile. It's like he's fighting himself to make sure he doesn't cry, reminding you that this is serious.

"I will actually do it, you hear me? If you betray me again, I will rally the Grisha against you. Ulla, too, while I'm at it. They like me more than you anyway. I'll chop your head off and give it to the Apparat and become Sankta Y/N of the dawn or whatever they end up calling me. I'll make sure there are thousands of paintings of how I murdered you. And I'll make it seem like it was easy, too. I'll tell them I overpowered you effortlessly and cut your heart out while you confessed your love to me or something. All of Ravka will make fun of how you died. It'll overshadow the horror stories about the Black Heretic. You will become the joke of a whole nation."

He smiles softly. "I would expect nothing less of you, my love."

You mirror his smile weakly, eyes flickering down to his lips twice before slowly leaning in. Aleksander waits for you, refusing to move while your breath ghosts over his lips.

"Are you sure?" he asks, waiting for you to decide what to do. The tension between you two is heavy, your nose filling with his oh so familiar scent with every breath you take.

"I am," you answer almost silently. "I don't forgive you, not yet. But I think I can give you one last chance. I think I can do it."

Laughing weakly, you continue, "Especially now that I'm allowed to murder you if you betray my trust again."

He hums, his nose brushing softly against yours as he waits for you to confirm your decision.

When you do, your lips pressing against his, it tastes like ash and death, like destruction and poison and chocolate and peace and promises.

It tastes like sin. It tastes like coming home. It tastes like love.

Taglist: @budugu @purebloodwitch @hells-escapees @savagejane1 @deadunicorn159

#aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling x reader

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