#aleksander x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kasagia · 4 months

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Can't catch me now...

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x grisha! reader Summary: The Hunger Games in Ravka. 12 districts. 12 tributes. 12 mentors. 11 young people die every year. 1 winner. Aleksander was a mentor to many. But only your face will haunt him for centuries. Inspired by: The Hunger Games. I changed the world of both of them a bit. I was supposed to write something else, but this came to my mind and... Word Count: 4,9k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist PART 2

"The tribute from District 12! Y/N Y/L/N!"

You doubt you will ever forget this day. Or the terrified faces of Alina and Mal when the Peacekeepers pulled you out of the row and pushed you towards the stage.

An orphan from Kerazmin was sent to the Hunger Games for certain death.

The Hunger Games are held annually to commemorate the Great Battle of Ravka, in which Grisha and the inhabitants of Ravka took part. The House of Lantsov took over the country and strengthened its position by killing the rebels with the help of Grisha, led by the Darkling.

The Darkling helped them in exchange for a promise that no Grisha would ever suffer at the hands of Ravka's rulers again. His successors created the Little Palace, a safe haven for Grisha. The Lanstovs, on the other hand, continued the annual killing of 11 children from the Ravka districts. They put on a show for the people, the snobbish nobility, and the Grisha, who gloated over how the children of their captors were now fighting for their lives in the arena as they used to in the Old Ravka.

If it weren't for the Darkling's help, the world would be different.

Lantsov would not have come to power. The fold would not exist. And the Hunger Games would never have happened.

"12. We are in captial." you smile thankfully and nod to the boy from District 11.

You disembark with the other tybutes, and each of you holds your breath as you see the gates of Os Alta in the distance. Your district was poor, like mainly all of them, and Karemzin was certainly not the most beautiful. But the forest around the city gave you a strange feeling of peace. Home.

"Get in line! You will be checked by medics! We don't want any pandemics in the capital because we brought some rats to play with."

Each of you is bursting with anger at the soldier's words. But with so many Peacekeepers around you, none are brave enough to disobey orders.

You're last in line. You are waiting for a woman to approach you. You know she is Grisha from her clothes—a beautiful red kefta. You feel nauseous as the woman's hands touch your forehead, but you stand still and straight. You definitely won't show them you're scared, especially Grisha.

Grisha frowns. He nods at the peacekeeper. You feel yourself turning pale, your hands clasped behind your back, shaking slightly as you realise something is wrong. You create various scenarios in your head, and when Peacekeeper reaches for something attached to his hip, you already say goodbye to life. You raise your eyebrows in surprise when he pulls out something else instead of a gun.

"I'm not a Grisha." you say firmly, recognising the device the Grisha's use to test if someone has the ability to practice their 'little science'. "I was examined when I was young."

"We shall see." the healer who checked you says.

She nods at the soldiers. You are pushed into carriages. 6 people to one. You're a bit cramped, but it's better than sharing one carriage. You take the opportunity to fall asleep, resting your head against the window, as the quiet conversations and the sound of squeaking wheels hitting the path in the forest lull you to sleep.

You gather in a large room that is too over-decorated for your taste. You were bathed and changed into new clothes, all to appear before the king and the inhabitants of the capital.

You stand tense, playing with the sleeves of your dress. You've watched the Hunger Games once. The tybutits gathered in the great hall before the king and presented their image to Ravka and its inhabitants. The one who sold best gained the most sponsors. And therefore, food, water, medicines, and weapons in the arena.

But apart from the soldiers, there was no one around you.

You shiver slightly when suddenly the door bursts open and several soldiers dressed in black enter. The oprichniki. You swallow as, between them, you see the Darkling himself.

You saw him once in the newspaper at Prince Vasily's funeral.

He was terrifying.

There was an aura of power and composure around him. He dominated a room full of people, and seeing him in person only strengthened your belief that the man in front of you was pure danger and unlimited power.

Rumours spread throughout the country that he would one day depose Lantsovs from the throne. And no one would be surprised if someone from the Darkling's family line finally came to power.

"General Kirigan!" the oprichnik shouts.

The soldiers salute him, and some of the tributes bow. You stand straight, watching him carefully as he slowly walks towards the centre of the room. He stands before you and looks at you all. His dark eyes meet yours in a burning gaze a few moments longer than the rest. He clears his throat, breaking the absolute silence, and begins his speech.

"It is a great honour to take part in the Hunger Games. It is an even greater honour to survive them and become a resident of Os Alta, so do not waste your chance. You will soon go to a meeting with your mentors and then to the throne room, where the king will officially open this year's Hunger Games. You will have two weeks to prepare for entering the arena. But before that, like every year, we will take you through a small test. Don't worry, it will only take a moment." He claps his hands, making some of you tremble. He chuckles, darkly amused, and looks at you one by one again. "Who's first? Maybe District 1?"

Everyone's eyes turn to the little boy. The kid is maybe 12 years old, no more. On shaky legs, he approaches the Darkling. You clench your jaw as you watch the amusement in the peacekeepers' eyes. At least the Darkling and his people had the decency not to scare the boy more or make fun of him.

The Darkling pierces his skin with his ring, creating a small wound. The boy lets out a small squeal of pain but doesn't remove his hand. The Darkling whispers something to him and gives him his black handkerchief. The boy takes it hesitantly, thanks it, presses it to the wound, and returns to his place in line.

And so on. Some come back with a larger wound on their arm, others with a slight bite, like a little boy. Until it's your turn.

You approach the Darkling, staring at the window behind him and the view of the forest from which you came here. You stand in front of him, waiting for him to pierce your skin. But it's not like that. An uncomfortable, disquieting silence descends. You shift your gaze to him and can't help but shiver as you find his dark irises staring intently at you.

"What are you?" he asks, still staring at you, searching for something you can't quite place. You don't know why he does it. He didn't speak to the rest of the tibutes.

"Y/N Y/L/N from district 12." you answer his strange question, proud that your voice isn't hoarse. The last time you drank water was three days ago.

He smirks at your response and at the fact that you keep his gaze on you, unlike the rest of the people who stood in front of him. He is partly disappointed that you're doing it. He decides it would be nice to grab your chin and force you to look into his eyes. But your supposedly brave attitude is a pleasant refreshment for him.

"I asked you… what are you?" he repeats it in a monotone tone of voice.

"This year's tribute, sir." you say, confused, not knowing what exactly he wants to hear from you or what he is asking you about.

"That I can see. Answer the question. WHAT are you?" he insists and you can't find a good answer.

An orphan? Nobody's daughter? A friend?

"I... no one." you say, staring into his dark eyes like hypnotised.

You feel incredibly stupid and tremble as the soldiers' laughter echoes throughout the room.

But the Darkling doesn't join them, there's no trace of amusement in his eyes, now almost black as his shadows, as he watches you carefully.

He's judging you. You don't know why his attention is fully on you or why he needs someone… as worthless as you, but everything changes the moment he raises his hands and summons his shadows.

They surround the soldiers, immediately silencing them, and there is a deafening silence in the room again. You feel like it's just you and him and no one else.

"Interesting... we shall see and find out." he gently brushes his finger against your wrist. "Now, your sleeve, if you allow."

He doesn't wait for your answer or movement and rolls up the sleeve of your dress himself, with a carefulness that amazes you. The Darkling is known for many things, but certainly not for any form of gentleness.

You wait for the pain that will come from his ring piercing your skin. But the wound he gives you is not that terrible compared to others he made for the rest of the tributes. And the strangest thing about it all is that not a single drop of blood leaks from it.

You feel a strange warmth spread throughout your body where he touches you. He tightens his grip on your shoulder more, as if he's searching for something. The warmth is spreading deeper within you until suddenly you feel it piercing right through your heart.

You close your eyes at the intense feeling that washes over you. You stop breathing as suddenly the room fills with blue light emitting from you. The wind picks up, the ground shakes under your feet, and the small pieces of plaster begin to fall off the ceiling. You're not sure, but you think you hear someone screaming echoing through the room.

You meet the Darkling's gaze. He stares at you with some kind of pride and satisfaction. Like a predator when he finally catches his great prey. You pull away your hand from his grip, still holding defiantly his gaze. You probably wouldn't have been so brave under different circumstances, but after all, you were a participant in the Hunger Games. You were already dead anyway.

"Wed'ma." whispers spread throughout the room as everything returned to normal. The other Grisha help one of them, the one closest to you, get up from his lap. He's breathing quickly, he's pale, and you see a trickle of blood coming from his mouth. You realize that you are not bleeding like the tributes before you did from the wound inflicted by the Darkling.

"She is not a witch. Show a little respect. The Merzost Holder is standing in front of you." he announces. Grisha falls silent, staring at you in shock and awe as the others give him confused looks. Including you.

"What the blody hell?" you whisper, but he either doesn't hear you or ignores you, sending everyone else out of the room. Only you and his oprichniki remain.

When the door closes with a loud bang, you somehow regain the ability to speak. You straighten up, looking up to meet the Darkling's dark eyes still fixed on you. You shiver, swallowing, as you gather the courage to ask him a question.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he grimaces at your aggressive tone and crude swearing but decides to ignore it and answer your question. He decides he still has plenty of time to train you once your emotions fade away.

"You wield the merzost. Power from the borderline of little science. Its layers… are within you. The saints have marked you as the living source of this. A little science prevents us from creating new things, and trying to use Merzost is mostly deadly, if not disastrous, for those who try to use it, but you… you can manipulate it to your heart's content. You hold the magic that is hidden at the heart of the world—the power of creation, of life over death."

"I am not a Grisha." he laughs loudly and mockingly at your words, making you shiver.

"Wasn't this little show enough to convince you? It was definitely for me. I've seen many Grisha, but you're one of a kind for now. Your power may have been unheard of, but you exist in our literature. As a myth. A legend, a bedtime story for children. Our ancestors believed that one day a Grisha would appear so powerful that they would be able to move the sea, destroy continents, and restore lives. That there will appear a saviour who will give us eternal greatness and make us receive the respect we deserve. We have been waiting a long time for you, miss Y/L/N."

"Well, then you'll have to wait a little longer. I'm a tribute. I'll probably die in the games."

"You don't think I'm going to let my Grisha be part of this, do you?" he asks you mockingly. Before you can answer, the door opens again, and two heartrenders walk in. "Excellent timing. Ivan, Fedyor, you will escort Miss Y/L/N to the Little Palace. Make sure our Merzost Holder gets all the amenities she needs after the traumatic time she endured in the district and on the way here."

Your first thought is to resist him and run away from there as far as possible, but there is nothing you can do. It's either follow them or go back to the Hunger Games, which you don't want.

So you hide your pride in your pocket and walk between the two men, guided by the Darkling's watchful, careful gaze that makes you shiver. You sigh in relief as soon as the door closes behind you and you're free from his dark eyes.

But something tells you that you won't be free from this dangerous man's company for long.

Especially when, after he touched you, you felt some strange connection to him that you couldn't explain. Something that made you more terrified than your untamed, wild and new power.

The chamber they take you to is ridiculously luxurious. The amount of gold and decorations in it alone could feed your entire orphanage for years.

As a poor orphan, you learned to measure the value of things like food and warm clothes. Probably like other residents of the districts. Only in the capital and larger cities did people have higher values than survival.

Your thoughts returned to Mal and Alina. You hoped that the two of them could handle it until you figured out how to get out of the mess you were in.

You look at your hands, reflecting on everything that has happened in these few days. From a poor orphan, you became a tribute in the Hunger Games and then the holder of some strange Grisha's power that you had no idea about.

And the worst part of it all was that you were still so damn hungry.

Suddenly, someone knocks on your door. Before you can answer, the Darkling himself enters, followed by a red-haired woman in a white kefta and two maids. They both hold the trays, put them on the table, and leave silently, closing the door behind them, leaving you with a woman and a shadow summoner.

The redhead walks up to you and holds your chin, watching you closely and tugging on your hair, tilting your head back. You aggressively push her hands away from you and step back.

"Ouch. I thought districts taught some culture, right?"

"Sorry, I don't feel very cultured when a strange woman comes up to me and plays with me like with some rag doll."

The Darkling chuckles softly as he sits down in one of the plush armchairs. His posture seems a little more relaxed than when he entered the room earlier. There is no longer anger or desire for committing murder on his face.

"Calm down, little wellspring. Genya is here to… gently improve your appearance." he says, pointing at your outfit. You blush slightly at his remark, but you realise that anyone in your situation would look... like they took it out of a dog's throat.

"What for?" you ask suspiciously, crossing your arms, which somehow makes him more amused. He's slowly starting to irritate you.

"And here I thought you'd be grateful that we wanted to get you to… a more human state." he says, revealing the first tray. The black gloves he wore contrasted with the gold tray lid, catching your attention. You wondered why he needed them on such a warm day...

The smell of food hits your nostrils, making saliva pool in your mouth and making you forget about anything else. Your stomach screams at you to eat the food given to you as quickly as possible, but your willpower and common sense win.

"What do you want?" you ask firmly and look at him defiantly.

"The king, despite my numerous persuasions, did not agree to... remove you from the Hunger Games. It probably has something to do with... the type of power you have. The old fool is probably afraid that we will start a rebellion that you will lead. He hopes that you will die in the games, and this will take care of itself for him."

"He is right. We know I have no chance of surviving." the calmness with which you say this surprises him. His mocking, confident demeanour crumbles for a moment as he looks at you carefully, analysing this new side of you he didn't see yet.

However, by the smirk that forms on his lips, you realise that he isn't losing interest in you at all. Your mysteriousness only further ignites the fire of curiosity within him. And being close to him is the last thing you want right now.

"Maybe not alone, but with me as your mentor? We shall see..." he says thoughtfully, his eyes piercing right through you. You lose this little staring contest, feeling too uncomfortable under his scrutinising gaze. "Now eat. You must have strength. And Genya will improve your appearance in the meantime. Don't make this already... demanding task more difficult for her."

You sit on the chair that is furthest from him and take some food from the tray. You chew in silence, watching the two of them. When you're full enough that your stomach won't growl, you decide to put the food aside to share something with him that he probably won't like.

"I won't win. You better get ready for it." You say with great confidence and he raises his eyebrows.

"And why is that, if I may ask?" he asks mockingly, as if he already knew that your victory was a foregone conclusion.

"I am not going to kill anybody during the games." you state, and Genya, who was combing your hair, freezes.

You both look at the Darkling, waiting for his reaction, who for now stares at you in surprise. He clenches his jaw and fists as he realises the meaning of your words. You see anger in his dark eyes.

"Are you mad?" he asks surprisingly calmly, probably surprising both of you. However, you see shadows begin to flow from his hands, circling around the feet of the chair he was sitting in as he gave you a look that could kill and certainly scare many.

"Probably."

"Listen to me carefully. We didn't wait hundreds of years for you to come here with your bratty, saintly attitude, willing to martyr yourself in the name of nothing at the stupid Hunger Games. You're going to win it, and you're going to do everything I tell you to do with a damn smile on your pretty face that will charm sponsors enough to invest money in you. Do you understand, underdog from 12?"

His angry speech and growl through his teeth do not intimidate you. He needs you alive so he won't hurt you, and you'll die soon anyway, so what difference does it make if you show him respect? You lean towards him slowly, bravely enduring his angry glare and returning it with your own.

"You can kiss my ass, shadow man." you speak slowly, loudly, and clearly.

You hear Genya sigh softly behind you, and you see him frown in anger. He throws the tray (which was still full of food and on the table) at you. He leaves your rooms without looking at you and slams the door hard as he takes his shadows with him.

"That… that was really stupid and brave." Genya says that once she has recovered from his small outburst of anger.

She saw people who, for less, were cut in half with the cut form from his shadows. But there you were, coming out of the verbal fight with him without a scratch because you managed to jump away from the tray he threw at you.

"I am dead anyway." you say, shrugging. There was no way you were getting out of this alive.

Genya smiles at you sadly, comfortingly in a twisted way, and gently caresses your cheek with her hand.

"Come. We'll make you look breathtaking before the presentation." she says, sitting you in another chair as she begins to prepare you to perform in front of Ravka's nobility.

The way she talked to you afterwards made you feel calmer and more comfortable. But you couldn't help but feel remorse when the maids came to clean up the food and immediately threw it in the trash like it was nothing. So many people could feed off this...

You came back tired from the presentation. You had to say a few words about yourself, which was extremely difficult for you, and after that, the host mentioned that you were Grisha.

The first Grisha in the Hunger Games.

You know from Genya that this information made some sponsors, curious about your unusual case, invest some money in you. Enough to cover the cost of creating your kefta and providing you with other outfits for future Hunger Games promotional events.

You think you have a few weeks before going to the arena. Before that stupid game for the royalty and nobilities.

You were preparing to go to bed when they allowed you to stay in a Little Palace as a sign of respecting the rules between the Lantsov dynasty and Darkling, when suddenly someone knocked on your door.

Whoever it was, they didn't wait for an answer.

The Darkling walked into your chamber, closing the door behind him. He looked at you and then sat on one of the armchairs, not taking his eyes from you even for a while.

"Normal people wait to be invited before entering." you say, crossing your arms as you stare at him expectantly as he sits back and takes the grapes in his gloved hands.

"Normal people don't want to die, but here you are." he replies sarcastically, at which you roll your eyes. A little more confident, you take a step towards him, giving him a defiant look as he raises his curious gaze at you.

"What do you want?"

"To discuss tomorrow's tactics with you." he replies calmly, eating a grape. Your gaze lingers on his lips for a moment before you meet his piercing, dark eyes again.

"Do you think that after your behaviour, I will cooperate with you in any way?"

"I shouldn't have reacted like that. Not many people surprise me, Miss Y/L/N. Let's just say… I'm not used to having someone who rebels against me in such a brazen way." he says, looking you up and down appraisingly. You somehow stop yourself from trembling under his gaze and calm yourself down enough to answer without an ounce of trembling in your voice.

"You haven't seen my true impudence yet, General."

"I guess… Why are you so eager to die?" the sudden change of topic causes you to frown in confusion.

He's the last person you want to talk to about why you don't want to kill. You won't open up. Certainly not in front of him—the man who killed thousands without blinking his eye.

"I don't want to die." you decide to give him that simple answer before you also reach for the grapes he's eating and take some for yourself.

You don't gorge yourself in front of him, even though your stomach is growling. You won't give him any more reasons to treat you like an animal. The people of Os'Alta had enough of them anyway.

"But you say you won't kill anyone. That you are going to die." he reminds you, gently pushing the bowl of fruit towards you, which you miss as you think about what answer to give him.

"Because I know that will happen. I won't survive long without killing another, but it doesn't mean that I want to die. I just have humanity in me. Not like the others."

"It will be only a matter of time. Your behaviour will change in the arena. The will to survive is greater in crisis situations than any morality. I assure you. I've seen many good men turn into pure animals after they went to the arena." the faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the fireplace behind you tells you he's not telling you the whole truth. Maybe he saw it, but definitely not in the arena. You wonder what he could mean.

"I would rather die than lose who I am." you answer with all the confidence you can muster.

"You have no choice. I will drag you out of this arena by myself if I have to. You are too important for Grisha to just die." his words make you angry.

You know that some plans for you appeared in his head the moment he somehow activated the merzost within you. You could have seen it in his eyes then. Their strange source of ancient magic was inside you, and he wanted to use it for his plans. But you don't want to be some mythical fairy tale creature for Grisha.

"I am not a hero or any other saint!" you growl through your teeth in anger and clench your fists at your sides.

Unbeknownst to you, shadows begin to thicken around you, and the room plunges into darkness. You only realise what's happening to you when the Darkling stares at you in silent admiration and curiosity, a small smile tugging at his lips as he rubs his chin and his rough, short beard in pure, growing interest.

"You will be whoever I want you to be. Do you understand me?" he asks, ignoring for now this little show of your power.

You have no idea how you managed to amplify his shadows and make them more visible to you. Apparently, you had to learn to control this strange thing before you did something terrible. Again.

You shiver, pushing away the unwanted memory and instead focusing on your anger at him. You decide to respond very eloquently to his threat/order.

"Fuck you."

He just laughs at you as he stands up. Only a small coffee table separated you, and you again realised how powerful and intimidating he was as he towered over you while you still sat on the couch. You feel a chill against your ankle as his shadows gather at his and your feet before disappearing.

You stand up as he walks around the coffee table and walks over to you. He lifts your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look into his eyes. You don't feel that strange electricity like before when his skin touched yours, but the tension between us is still palpable. At least for you. Your fingers tingle to touch him, to run your hand over his shadows. You know that the moment you do this, darkness will fill the room again.

You have no idea why, but the thought suddenly seems exciting. You have a strange desire to create something from its shadows. Model them at your discretion. And you're more confused than the intensity with which his eyes stare into yours.

"I give you two days. You'll change your mind, little wellspring. Your power is too great to simply let it waste in the grave. Think about it." he says this and walks past you, gently hitting your shoulder with his. You turn and watch as he leaves and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone in the empty room.

And when you are finally alone, you allow yourself to pounce on the food that has been left for you. Once you've eaten your fill, you start to realise what kind of crazy sh*t you've gotten yourself into.

You look at your hands and close your eyes, pressing them together. You focus on the strange tingling feeling on the inside. You open one eye and gasp as you see the black mass—the thread connecting both of your arms—that is cool to the touch.

A silent scream escapes your lips as you shake your hands hysterically, trying to get rid of it. The black mass disappears the moment you lose your focus. You put your hand to your mouth, letting yourself kneel on the floor as you sob as quietly as possible. You can't hold back your tears as the memories of blood, screaming, metal, and the feeling of shortness of breath come back to you. You rock back and forth, taking shaky breaths. You only wake up from your trance when the first rays of sunlight hit your eyes.

And so goes your first night in the Little Palace.

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padfootagain · 6 months

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Hold My Hand Instead of His

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader

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

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

Word Count: 3554

The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you… why did it have to be you?

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

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

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

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

Two hearts. One heartbeat. Soulmates…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t do this.

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

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

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

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

“Y/N, what happened?”

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

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

Did he care though? He didn’t know…

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

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

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

“Did he hurt you? What happened?”

“He didn’t hurt me, he…”

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

“He kissed me.”

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

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

“Y/N, calm down. This is important.”

“I have a soulmate.”

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

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

“It’s you. You’re my soulmate.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

Slowly, you nodded.

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

“Oh…”

The ghost of an amused smile tugged at his lips.

“’Oh’, indeed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Loneliness…

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

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

The decision was easy to make.

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

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

“Do not marry him.”

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

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

“But what about Grisha…”

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

“Do you really mean that?”

He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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we-were-born-to-be-free · 11 months

Text

"You're mine," he whispered.

"Yours" I breathed.

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thebigsl33p · 4 months

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Last Words of A Shooting Star AU ideas

Aleksander Morozova X Fem!Star!Reader

Like, this has been sitting in my head for so long but anytime i try to put it on paper it comes out shite, but I need to share it so...

Stardust AU! where the reader falls to Earth when Aleksander is a teen, they have a little romance yadayada, but the reader clearly isn't quite human. So when he creates The Fold and she gets lost inside it, he's all crying mourning ahhh angst for three hundred years.

And one day, there's reports of a light from The Fold. Distant, mild, but definitely a light.

And he's like ahhh what the fuck, sends out one of them little ship things to investigate and like ppl die but the surviving crew is just 'oh shit, there's a sparkly woman' and they take her back to the camp, and the little palace and bros just flabbergasted but also very in love.

And like, it takes a while for both of them to recognise each other, this tall intimidating General, so different from her Sasha, and this scrawny, damaged woman with a familiar sparkle, so different from his zvezda but like oh shit that's her.

and then sweet little renuion ahhhhhh

ah what the hell I'm gonna write it

Edit: I am currently writing it okayyyy yipeee it's gonna have four parts, which is...uh...well, I've never done a miniseries before.

ITS UP

#aleksander morozova #Aleksander morozova X reader #general kirigan X reader #aleksander X reader #the darkling X reader #darkling X reader #stardust au #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone X reader #kirigan x reader

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wolfmoonmusic · 1 year

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hiiii!!! would u mind writing a request for a darkling x reader fanfic where r nearly dies on a trip through the shadow fold and he gets upset when he sees her training to go back through to complete the mission and tells her to come to his office where he gets all soft and tells her he can’t loser her and that she’s his other half and basically after that everyone knows that she is his equal and nobody else can ever compare to her 😭🤭🤭💗

Reassurances

Summary: You nearly die, and the Darkling gets upset.

w/c: 1880+

Pairing: Darkling x female!tidemaker!reader

Warnings: Self-hatred, never being enough, mentions of death and injuries

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d come to Ravka of your own free will.

Not as a refugee Grisha. Technically.

You had run away though. Away from an abusive home, where you were constantly told that you were not enough. Never would be.

And the Little Palace was perfect.

“Snap out of your daydreams about the General, Y/N. We’re ready.”

Your eyes grew wide, as you spun around, finding Zoya smirking at you. And not far behind was the General himself, watching with an amused yet bewildered look on his face. You gave him a sheepish smile before following Zoya to the middle of the ship. “For your information, I wasn’t thinking about him,” you seethed. “No,” she said, signaling to an Inferni, “but you were getting there,” she said, turning back to you. You mock her, causing her to smirk, before getting to your station.

“Remember,” Kirigan started, turning to face all of you, “We just want to test this method. That’s all we’re going in for.”

You didn’t miss the whispers that sounded from all around you.

“Why did he choose her?”

“She’s so new.”

“We’re all going to die.”

“There are so many more experienced Tidemakers, her power won’t be enough.”

You shut your eyes, trying to drown them out when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes fluttered open to find Zoya in front of you. “Kirigan wants to know if this is too much for you,” she said, worry evident in her eyes. Your eyes flickered to Kirigan, watching his eyes on yours, a blank expression on his face.

He thinks you can’t do it. That you’re too weak.

You shook your head, “I can do it.”

Zoya nodded, before turning around and repeating the action to the General, but his eyes never left yours.

You cleared your throat, focusing on the Fold in front of you, as the ship lurched forward.

People were yelling instructions all over the ship as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

“Once we’ve entered, you’ll create a dome of water around the ship. An Inferni will start a fire, which hopefully, thanks to your dome, will be refracted in multiple directions, throwing the Volcra off,” Kirigan told you.

“You think I can do it? Wouldn’t someone else be better fit for the job?”

“I do. But I don’t want you to do it, unless you think you can.”

Your eyes flickered to Kirigan again, who was now facing the Fold.

Truth be told, you didn’t think you could do it. You felt absolutely worthless, and everyone’s whispers weren’t helping.

Yes, the Little Palace was perfect. Everyone was nice. But you couldn’t handle the stares that you received ever since it’d been announced that you’d be handling this. No one knew your past. No one knew how it’d affected you.

All they saw was the instant liking that Kirigan took to you. The way you’d sometimes spend entire days alone while other days you’d be like a ball of sunshine. It made no sense to most, but then again, everyone had their own trauma to handle.

Your hands trembled as you counted the seconds you’d spent inside the fold. Your eyes were on Kirigan, waiting for his signal.

And it couldn’t have come sooner.

He looked back to you, nodding briefly.

You focused on your hands, imagining water flowing through them, as you waved them in the air in a dome like shape, watching as water followed your motions. You kept your hands up, thinning out the layer of water, keeping it steady and from falling all over everyone on the ship.

You caught Zoya looking at you from the corner of your eye, nodding to you before signaling to the Inferni. Your eyes landed on Kirigan, who gave you a brief nod, eyes shining with an expression you’d never seen anyone look at you with before.

The Inferni got a good fire going, and as Kirigan had said, the light refracted beautifully.

It couldn’t destroy the Fold. But it’d be easier to get across.

Just as you thought this would actually work, the first Volcra attacked.

You struggled to keep the water barrier up as it pounded again and again through it.

Panic built in your chest as more appeared, clearly understanding the trick you’d played.

Everyone started rushing about preparing for a fight.

“Don’t you dare let go!” someone yelled at you, “If you do, we're all dead!”

Your hands trembled.

They were right. You weren’t enough. You never would be.

As the negative thoughts swirled in your mind, you felt yourself lose control of the water dome, and it came crashing down on the boat.

Your breath became unsteady as you failed to process what was going on through all of the screaming. Volcra were all over, snatching people, throwing them overboard. The piercing shrieks of everyone around you sent a searing pain rippling through your head.

Or maybe it was the sharp object that had pierced through your left shoulder.

A blood curdling scream ripped through your throat as you felt yourself being lifted off the ground.

Your vision blurred as fear and pain surged through you.

The next thing you knew you were falling in the dark, before everything went quiet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Recuperation was a foreign concept to you. In your house, it’d always been that way. The second you can think, talk, walk and move at least one arm, you had to get back to your normal schedule.

So that’s what you did.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, more disgusted at yourself than you had been before the accident.

That’s what everyone called it now anyways. Your left hand was in a sling. The healers did their best, but since it was a wound caused by a Volcra, it wasn’t healed completely. You ran your right hand over the black streaks across your shoulder, as they branched out all over your arms.

They would never go away.

There were different versions to the story. But, the most common one was that Kirigan had ordered one of the Inferni to kill the Volcra, and he caught you as you fell. And everyone who had told you this, had also added their comment about how you weren’t ready yet, and that Kirigan had made a mistake.

Of course it wasn’t hatred then. Only those who had been on the ship despised you for getting the others killed. No, everyone else had answered you with pity. Because that was the emotion shown to the weak.

You sighed, slipping on a coat over your tank top, wincing slightly at the way it sat on your shoulder.

The door opened, startling you out of your angry gaze on yourself.

“You shouldn’t be up yet,” Genya said, coming to stand behind you, her gaze soft.

“I have to train,” you said, turning around to face her.

“Y/N-”

“I messed up. I messed up and I can’t do that again.”

“You can’t summon without both your hands,” she said, gently as if speaking any louder would break you.

“I’ll train in hand - to - hand combat ‘till then,” you replied, moving to walk past her.

“Y/N, you need rest.”

“I’m fine,” you said, slamming the door behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were not fine.

Your right hand wouldn’t work like it usually did, and the fake sword in your hand felt heavier than usual. You cursed out as the sword fell from your hand a third time, Zoya watching. “You need to stop this foolishness,” she said, a stern look on her face.

“You should go mind the others,” you muttered, annoyed, eyeing her as you picked up the sword.

“The others aren’t ignoring their injuries,” she bit back.

She watched you try to swing it around once more, before standing in attention abruptly, her eyes landing on something behind you.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Someone behind you.

You dropped the sword, spinning around to find Kirigan behind you, an angry look on his face.

Zoya cleared her throat, “Sir-”

“I didn’t ask you,” he said, dark eyes fixated on you.

“I can’t summon yet sir. So I thought I would try hand-to-hand combat first,” you replied feeling terrible. You were so upset with yourself. 2 weeks should have been enough. You were only proving what everyone was saying.

“Follow me,” he ordered, walking away. You looked back to Zoya, shocked, but she only nodded you on.

You ran after him hurriedly, worried about what was going to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kirigan had brought you to his office and had been absolutely quite ever since.

He was sitting on the edge of his table, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand.

“Gener-”

“Call me Aleksander,” he says, finally looking up to meet your gaze.

You feel your cheeks heat up as you nod quickly. He got up, walking over to you, stopping just in front.

“I know why you push yourself so much,” he whispered, his gaze never leaving your eyes as he took your hands in his.

You stood there dumbfounded, waiting for him to explain. He tilted his head to the side, running his thumb over your knuckles. “The first day that you came here, you were so hurt, you were blabbering in your sleep. You kept asking your parents to stop. And right before I had asked Genya to put you to sleep, you muttered that you’d never be good enough,” he revealed.

You felt your eyes start to water, and you looked down at your joined hands, feeling embarrassed and scared. One of Aleksander’s hands left yours, reaching up to your chin instead, and gently tilting your face upwards. “I wasn’t enough that day either. You trusted me and- and I failed. The Volcra should’ve taken me, I deserve that punishment,” you cried, closing your eyes. “Y/N, look at me. Open those pretty of yours….please,” he whispered.

You did, surprised by the soft, caring look he was giving you. “If the Volcra had done something to you, I would have never been able to forgive myself. Because you are more than just a Grisha to me. You are my better half to say the least. Moreover, you are enough. You are my equal. Your parents were blind. I gave you that job because I knew you could do it. No one else compares to you. In any way. And you will be the one to handle it. Once you are completely healed that is,” he said, smiling softly. He dropped your other hand as well, gently wiping the tears from your face.

You couldn’t help the surge of emotion that ran through you as a smile crept up your face. His hands were now cupping your face, as he leaned in, pausing just before his lips landed on yours. “May I?” he whispered, his breath mixing with yours. You nodded, your stomach knotting up.

His lips landed on yours finally, merging both of you together as one. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as his hands dropped to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. For the first time in your life, you felt…

…wanted.

He pulled away gently, his eyes bright.

“Promise me you will rest?” he asked.

“If you’ll stay with me as long as you can,” you said sheepishly.

“Of course, my little tide,” he grinned.

Taglists: @pinchofhoney @lila-kille @emmnf1 @foulkryptonitepeanut @peaches1958

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sage-exe · 8 months

Text

Darkling x Fem Reader

Pairing: Darkling x Fem Reader

Summary: word has been spreading around that you where the Darkling’s whore, it made you upset, when you go to talk to the Darkling about this reoccurring issue the two of you get a little side tracked..

Word count: 4K words

Warnings: slut shaming?, nsfw, angry sex, corruption kink, consensual sex, breeding kink, bondage kink kinda, obsession, wife kink, hair pulling

You were wandering the halls of the little palace after dinner, searching for the library. You overheard some Grisha whispering to one another around the corner, curious you started to snoop.

“Yeah, that ‘sun summoner’ is probably just his whore, she’s not actually as strong as he says she is, she didn’t even grow up here, he simply likes fucking her.”

You were taken aback by the harsh words, gripping onto your black kefta as tears welled up in your eyes. You rushed off to the Darkling’s quarters only to be stopped by Ivan, one of his guards.

“He’s busy.” You frowned and tried to push past him.

“P..Please this is important.. let me see him for just a minute..” you kept trying to push past the wall of muscle to no avail till suddenly he let you pass, leaving you stumbling and almost slamming right against the Darkling himself.

“Hello, is something the matter?” He spoke in a calm, velvety voice. You nodded and he led you inside his quarters.

“What’s going on?” He leaned against the war room table and crossed his arms.

“T..The Grisha are spreading rumors that I’m just your little whore, that I’m not worthy of being here because I didn’t grow up in the little palace..” you frowned, still upset hearing the news a second time. The Darkling hummed, almost bemused by your frustrations.

“And what am I supposed to do about it? If I mention this issue they’ll only suspect it more.” You glared at his expression and felt rage build up inside you, he was right of course, but the fact he didn’t show much care in the matter made you upset. You pointed a finger into his chest and tears pricked at your eyes.

“Y..you treat me different! This is the reason they started all these rumors.. t..this!” You motioned to your black kefta. “They probably think we’re engaged or having sex and I don’t like that!” His face stayed neutral, causing you to get so angry, until his thumb grazed your cheek, wiping at a tear that threatened to fall.

“That’s because you are different. They are simply Grisha. We? We are much more powerful than they could ever imagine. Besides, so what if their imaginations get the best of them, their ideas aren’t half bad.” He smiled softly and held your face in his palms, almost eye level with you. You took a shaky breath at the simple contact but it was the way his dark eyes peered into yours like he was craving you, like every little movement you made he was studying. It made you squirm and lose all the confidence you came storming into the room with earlier.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, they don’t deserve your tears.” He leaned in and kissed your lips, moving one of his hands that was on your cheek to snake down to the small of your back and pull you in against his warm body. You didn’t try to struggle, you didn’t even find an ounce of hate that you felt earlier just a couple seconds ago. You found yourself melting against him, kissing him back, loving the way his hands gripped you closer almost like he was starving.

His grip on you got tighter, his kisses got needier and rougher as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, letting out a soft groan before lifting you onto the war room table.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled against your lips. His hands slowly caressing down the sides of your body.

“Y..yes..” you wrapped your arms around his neck and he lunged forward once more, crushing his lips to yours almost in a frenzy to have you all to himself. His hands grabbing at whatever he could touch, nearly pressing you against the table to have his way with you. The two of you got lost in each other, his hands gripping the base of your throat and your waist while your hands tangled in his hair and his shoulder. You wrapped your legs around his waist and let out a soft groan, gripping a fist full of his hair.

A knock sounded at the door and he let out a frustrated groan “wait here..” his lips lingered on yours, kissing you once more, like he was unable to pull away from you

The second knock sounded impatient, the two of you broke off from the kiss breathless and the Darkling walked off to answer the door. You checked your appearance in the mirror, your lips were swollen and you had a dark blush on your cheeks, your hair a bit messy and clothes disheveled. The Darkling looked similar when he turned to glance back at you, his hair in messy swipes and his lips plump.

Once the Darkling spoke with one of his guards he closed the door and turned back to you.

“Apologies but I have business to attend to.. please meet me back at my quarters later tonight?” The question caught you off guard but you gave a small nod. He turned to leave but then rushed back over to you, seizing your face in his hands once more to place another kiss upon your lips before walking off to deal with the issues at hand. You blushed and looked down at the floor of the war room, curious on how you were supposed to leave without Grisha questioning you. You remembered the Darkling’s words

‘That’s because you are different. They are simply Grisha. We? We are much more powerful than they could ever imagine.’

His words made you feel special, gave you enough confidence to walk out of the war room and to the common room with everyone else.

Zoya caught sight of you and snickered to her friends, whispering and smirking silently to them. It annoyed you, but she could do whatever she liked. The Darkling chose you, you wear his colors, you get to feel his body pressed against you and the warmth of his lips. She doesn’t get any of that special treatment, she’s just like every other fan girl of the Darkling. Zoya was gorgeous though, you weren’t sure why the Darkling chose you over her, her perfect raven hair and beautiful face. The only thing that wasn’t pretty about her was her snobby attitude.

You held your chin high and walked off to get yourself a warm cup of tea and to settle in some corner of the library to catch up on studies while you waited for the Darkling. You got lost in the literature, learning more and more lore of the so called saints of Ravka, of the three different amplifiers and about Morozova himself. You finished your cup of tea and noticed the library begin to darken around you, the Inferni must not have lit the candles yet. So you closed the book and looked around, the ghost of a touch on your waist. You turned shocked as the Darkling took hold of your waist.

“Hello my love, are you ready to go to my quarters or where you planning on leading me on?” He questioned, noticing the book in your hand.

“I..I was just reading while you were busy, I was gonna come to your room I promise..” you blushed, squirming in his hold with his penetrating gaze. He smiled and lifted his hand to rub your cheek with his thumb.

“Let us get going. I will lead you to my room through the servant’s secret entrances. No one needs to know of our relationship yet, I can tell it makes you uncomfortable.” He led you to a bookshelf, pulling a book down and a door opened. He held the small of your back, walking you through a maze of catacombs under the little palace until he opened a door into another hallway. The door to your left was the Darkling’s chambers, his bedroom. The thought made your stomach flutter and you gripped onto his sleeve.

“Are you alright sweetheart?“ he unlocked the door with a key before walking into the dark room, leading you in with a gentle hold of your hand, giving your knuckles a gentle kiss. You nodded and blushed at his simply yet sweet gestures. His room was full of paperwork, his bed was huge, covered in dark silk sheets and furs, black curtains hanging from the bed frame as well as his windows. His room was beautiful, you wanted to examine it further but got distracted when the Darkling started to take off his coat.

“You can call me Aleksander or Kirigan. Or just simply Alek” you flushed as you watched him, he was unclasping the multiple rows of buttons on his kefta, slowly but surely. His long fingers working with the metal leisurely as he watched your every move. You looked down embarrassed, messing with the sleeves of your own kefta.

“Make yourself at home dear, soon enough you’re gonna be face down in my sheets crying my name.” He smiled and smoothed his hair from his face, pulling off his kefta and showing off his muscular pale arms. You drew in a breath at his vulgar words, causing your cheeks to heat. You slowly sat on his large bed, staring up at his ceiling of constellations. You heard him clear his throat, immediately training your gaze to him. He stood right in front of you, his hand lifting your jaw up to his eyes.

“How beautiful..” he stroked your jawline, leaning down to eye level with you before pulling you into a deep kiss. You shivered and wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping onto his hair once more. His warm arms enveloped you and helped lay you down into his large silken bed. He bit down on your bottom lip and a soft groan escaped you. His lips trailed down your jaw, to your collarbone and neck, causing your breath to hitch. His hand trailed up your thigh slowly, pulling at your kefta buttons.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled against your skin, making your body tingle.

“Y..yes I..I want to spend the night with you.. I want you to do these things with me..” you blushed, gripping onto his shirt. He smiled and sucked against your neck, turning the two of you around so you straddled his waist while he leaned up and kissed your lips, pulling your kefta off your shoulders. You pulled the kefta off your arms and reached for his shirt.

“Someone is needy huh?~” he smirked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling it back. You let out a soft moan and whimpered, his teeth sinking into where your collarbone met with your neck. You let out a soft yelp, leaning your head to the side to give him better access as he gripped your hair tighter.

“They’re right you know.. you belong with me.. you don’t belong anywhere else.. I want you to stay with me. Rule the second army with me.” You whimpered as his hands slid up the back of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

“A..are you proposing to me..?” You tilted your head, messing with the buttons on his linen shirt. He smiled softly as he watched your nervous habits, he took both your hands and pulled them up to kiss them.

“I would love it if you where my wife, we would be unstoppable together.. I’d treat you so well..” he kissed your finger tips before he pulled off his own shirt, his muscles littered with scars and wounds. You let out a soft gasp, grazing your finger tips along his scars.

“Don’t worry love, I’m alright..” he kissed and bit down into your neck again, leaving marks and nearly drawing blood. You whimpered and dug your nails into his skin, earning a hiss of a groan from him. He stared at you, rubbing your hips gently and he smiled.

“Can you do something for me love?~” you tilted your head confused. “I want you to pull off the rest of your clothes then get down on your knees and suck my dick.” You blushed at his request, but you loved the idea of it. You crawled out of bed and pulled off your bra, your pants and panties and then knelt down in front of him on the edge of the bed, his pants unzipped and his bulge visible from inside his underwear.

He pulled out his cock and let out a soft groan. You blushed and even let out gasp when you saw the sheer size of his length. You weren’t sure if it would even fit in your mouth, but you tried. You gripped the shaft with both of your hands, rubbing it slowly while you swirled your tongue on the tip, the taste of his salty precum already on your tongue. He let out a ragged breath and gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail. You took your time, slowly sucking on the tip, enjoying the sight of him twitching beneath you like this. With him being such a man of power you wondered if he would beg for you to keep going.

He would tug at your hair when you went too slow, thrust into your mouth and shudder and whisper soft praises to you.

“You’re doing s..so good my love.. keep going..just like that..” you wanted to please him, to hear him praise you. You took more than just the tip into your mouth, sucking what you could with your hands still pumping his shaft. He let out a loud moan and thrusted deep into your throat, causing you to tear up and almost gag, freeing one of your hands to grab at his thigh. He chuckled, watching you squirm and struggle to take his cock in your mouth.

“That’s it, take it just like that, don’t cry darling.. you’ll make me feel guilty for face fucking you like this~” he dragged a hand down his face and moaned softly, gripping the back of your head. You looked up at him with tearful eyes, gripping onto his thighs as he stood. You looked confused before he grabbed your head and started thrusted into your mouth ruthlessly, causing your tears to spill over your cheeks and a muffled moan to fall from your lips. He didn’t spare you a second of breath, he kept thrusting his cock down your throat, greedy and hungry for his release. You closed your eyes and let him use your mouth, letting his grip on your head tighten as his thrusts lost their rhythm.

“Fuck.. I’m gonna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours sweetheart..you’d like that won’t you? Since you’re such a slut for me?” His words made you clench around nothing, your gaze blurry from the tears as you struggled to make out the form of his figure. Right as his hips began to stutter you felt a gush of warm, thick fluid in your throat, he gripped your hair tight as he waited for you to swallow his cum. You swallowed it and gagged on his cock that was still in your throat. You squirmed and he soon pulled away from your mouth. You panted, out of breath and stuck your tongue out for him, so he could see that you swallowed it all.

“You did such a good job sweetheart, but you missed some~” he wiped his index and middle finger across your chin, picking up some drops of his cum that fell before shoving his fingers in your mouth, relishing in the way you licked them clean.

“How obedient, I think I should reward you now darling” You nodded and looked up at him, feeling him pull his fingers from your mouth and lift you up onto his bed. He laid you down with such tender care before grabbing your legs and spreading them, his head delving between your legs. He slowly licked and bit into your inner thighs, teasing the sensitive skin. You let out a whimper and grabbed onto the sheets tightly.

“N..Ngh…Alek…” you whined his name, causing a low growl to come from his throat. He grabbed at your thighs, digging his nails into them before he started to lick and suck at your clit, causing your body to arch off the bed and a cry to fall from your lips. His movements were rough, calculated. He knew exactly how to please your body till you were shaking and crying. You grabbed for his hair, tugging at it as he ate you out like a starving man. The feel of his mouth on your cunt sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. You let out a quiet moan and tried to muffle your noises into your hand, afraid the guards might overhear. Kirigan relished in the way you tasted, licking up your fluids and prodding his fingers into you gingerly, curling them in the spot that made you moan the loudest. He pulled away only for a moment and mumbled against your inner thigh.

“You’re mine.. you belong to me. If I want to call you my slut I’m allowed to, got it?” You whimpered at his words, earning a sharp bite to your inner thigh.

“Do you understand?” You nodded your head and panted softly.

“Y..Yes sir..” he smirked at your response, leaning back down to suck on your clit, shoving a third finger inside you. You squirmed beneath him as he stretched your pussy with his fingers, using the slick from your arousal to thrust his fingers in and out of you.

Between his fingers fucking into your g spot and his mouth sucking on your clit relentlessly you couldn’t hold on much longer. Your legs trembled as they threatened to squeeze around his head, his shadows quickly seizing your legs and tugging them apart while his hands stayed busy, causing a loud moan to fall from your lips as you neared your high. You couldn’t squirm or pull away, his shadows pinning you down in his dark silken sheets. An orgasm rocked through you, a silent moan shuddering through you, his actions not relenting in the slightest. You squirmed and trashed, begging quietly to him.

“P..Ple..Please too sen..sensitive..too much..” you mumbled, your eyes fogged over from the pleasure. Kirigan ignored you and your pleas, curling his fingers inside your contracting cunt as your arousal coated his fingers, dripping onto his bedding as he flicked his tongue over your clit, causing your body to jolt at every flick.

Your body convulsed at the intense pleasure his tongue was forcing from you, still abusing your sensitive clit and shoving his fingers into your cunt. He didn’t care if you were begging him to stop, he was going to force another orgasm out of you. He loved the way you screamed his name and scratched your nails into his upper back.

“P..Please Alek.. A..Alek..!~” you sobbed and formed crescents into his shoulders with your nails, causing a hiss of a moan to come from him. He cast his shadows once more to pin you to the bed, covering up your mouth to quiet your loud cries as he continued to tongue fuck your pussy. You couldn’t take it anymore, you felt your body tense and your cunt clenching around his fingers as another orgasm was ripped from you. Your legs trembled and shook as you panted softly, your attention vaguely focused on Kirigan.

He sat up slowly and licked his soaked fingers clean before he kicked off his pants and underwear, staring down at you with black seductive eyes. The haze from your intense orgasm fogged your thoughts, leaving you to stare up at him and take in all his features. His dark raven eyes and hair, his muscular, lean build, and the way his cock twitched with anticipation as he lined up with your cunt. You grabbed onto his shoulders tightly, giving him a slight nod.

He didn’t waste a second, he rubbed the tip of his cock in the slick of your arousal before he shoved inside of you to the hilt, a cry coming out of your lips. You squirmed beneath him as you cried, tears streaking down your cheeks. He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, kissing your neck and biting it as he whispered.

“Shh shh… take my cock just like that baby.. you’re doing so good..” he pulled out just to slam back inside of you, starting a slow lazy pace so you could acclimate. He kissed your lips, rubbing the fast pulse on your wrist to sooth you. The feeling of his cock buried so deep inside you made you squirm and whimper his name.

“A..Alek..” he smirked at the utter of his name, thrusting faster inside of you, moving his hand to wrap around your throat and squeeze. You gasped and grabbed at his forearm, letting out a strangled moan. He chuckled as he watched you struggle and squirm beneath him.

“You’re okay love, I’ve got you.” He used his free hand to grab your hip and slam into you at a brutal pace, still choking you and causing you to see stars. A sheen of sweat started to cover the both of you as lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders as he pressed you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna fill up your sweet pussy with my cum till you’re stuffed full. So everyone truly knows that you’re mine. You’re all mine..” his voice came as a deep rasp, speaking between his rough thrusts. The head of his cock kissed your cervix, you squirmed and clung to his shoulders.

“Please.. need you..” you panted in shallow breaths, trying to muffle your moans in his sheets. He gripped your jaw and forced you to face him.

“Look at me when I fuck you. Otherwise I’ll have to turn you over and fuck you face down.” You whined at his words, covering your face with your hands. He let out a growl and flipped you on your stomach, lifting your hips in the air before slamming back inside of you. He groaned, picking up his pace.

“You’ve been very bad.. not listening to me when I give you orders..” he slapped your ass, leaving a sting as he fucked you. He rubbed the soft plush of your ass before slapping it harder. You let out a cry, gripping onto his sheets before he shoved your head into the pillows.

“Lay down and take it like a good girl, you deserve this punishment for being so bad, make it up to me alright?~” you nodded your head, facedown in the pillows before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back, pulling you into a rough kiss. Your makeup streaked down your cheeks with your tears as he thrusted farther inside you, pressing against a spot that made your legs shake. You gasped against his lips, your body trembling as he slapped your ass again. You could feel your body building up to another orgasm and you could tell he was near his first.

“F..Fuck baby.. love the way you feel around my cock like this..” his thrusts lost their rhythm before a warm gush of liquid flooded inside of you. The feeling of being so full of his cum and the way he thrusted it deep inside your cunt made a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your orgasm left your body trembling and shaking, your mind going completely blank. You felt his warm hands running along your body, rubbing your sore and tired muscles while he kissed your neck.

“Common sweetheart, you can take a couple more rounds I know you can~” you gripped onto the sheets, shoving your hips against his, a growl coming from him.

“Yeah? You desperate for another round of being fucked senseless.” the roughness of his voice made your body melt. He snaked his hands around your body and pinched a nipple with his fingers, causing you to gasp. His thrusts started up again, rubbing against your g spot as his cock twitched inside of you.

“F..Fuck..” you mumbled into the sheets, gripping onto them before he pinched your nipple harder.

“Watch your mouth, otherwise I’ll have to punish you for being a bad girl.” You nodded your head slowly and panted softly as he continued to thrust his dick deep inside of your cunt, watching as your mixed arousal dripped from the two of you. He fucked you till he could assure that you wouldn’t be walking for weeks on end, sweat dripping from your bodies, bites and bruises scattered along your body, his cock turning soft inside you as you struggled to breath beneath his trembling figure. He pulled out, admiring the way you squirmed and twitched beneath him.

“You’re so good like this my love..” he used his fingers to make sure none of his come dripped from your pussy, shoving his fingers back inside your cunt.

“There we go.. make sure you’re nice and full..” you whimpered and grabbed at his forearm.

“P..Please no more.. I..I can’t..” you watched him smile and he pulled his fingers away, licking them clean before his other hand rubbed your cheek.

“Relax sweetheart, we’re done for the night, I’m going to run us a warm bath and I’ll hold you till you fall asleep.” You nodded and wrapped your weak arms around his neck before he carried you to the bathroom, resting you inside the tub with such care. As the warm water filled the tub you made room for Kirigan to sit behind you. He eased into the water and grabbed some soaps and a washcloth, rinsing your body off and scrubbing it gently with the cloth, rubbing his fingers into your scalp with soap suds. You melted against his warm chest, feeling your eyelids droop and your muscles relaxing from the intense night. He kissed your head and rubbed your sides.

“Get some rest, I’ve got you sweetie, just relax..” his deep voice was soothing, lulling you to a deep sleep against his chest, the beat of his heart a faint echo as the world around you drowned out into the background.

Ty for reading! If you want any more specific things with the Darkling he’s my current fixation :)))) lmk!

Btw this caption on Pinterest is so real

#general kirigan #alina x kirigan #count kirigan #aleksander kirigan #aleksander x reader #alina x aleksander #aleksander morozova #aleksander x y/n #shadow and bone #team darkling #the darkling #darkling x reader #darkling shadow and bone #darkling x you #darkling x y/n

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euphoniumpets · 11 months

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I can't help falling in love with you slowly | Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: Ever since Aleksander had existed, he never thought of marrying or having the kind of love where the other one would sacrifice their love for each other, but with his duties of being the General, the council suggest of him finding a marriage and that's where you came in. You have dreamt of finding the kind of love that your parents had but it was all changed when they decided you to marry off with the General.

Requested? Yes by @nyctophilic0vitnir: Hello there 🙋🏻‍♀️! If requests are still open, I was thinking of an Aleksander Morozova x f!reader where they're in an arranged marriage; she's unyielding and cold, he's trying to make it work? Perhaps a you ger version of him? Feel free to play around with the idea as you see fit 😊.

A/N: thank you for requesting love, hope you enjoy this fic that i came up with, xo. Decided to put the reader's point of view in this one and yes, i did have some inspiration from HOTD.

Warnings: arranged marriage? Aleksander might be ooc in this one lol.

Your parents decided to marry you off to the general. It brought grief and distraught because all you ever wanted the kind of love where they would sacrifice for each other. The kind of love where you had seen once in your life, but you knew that you were never going to experience that.

Not since when you were a first born in your heir as a Targaryen. Your parents expected great things for you since you were the only first female heir named to the next line.

You have heard of him - the general. Most people saw him as a handsome, powerful grisha for the second army, but some feared him for being a shadow summoner. You didn't blame them, knowing the unknown and powerful men.

During the marriage, you didn't spoke to him even when the two of you were alone. That all changed when your mother decided to host a ball to celebrate your marriage for the people.

You didn't like parties, you would often find yourself somewhere in the castle alone since you enjoyed your own company than rather anyone else.

So, when Aleksander saw you walking away while he was having conversations with the people he didn't enjoy, a slight concern creeped up to him. He cared for you, he would admit that since he had seen the look in your eyes for something.

The longing in your eyes and the disappointed look in your eyes when your mother had decided to marry you off to him. He followed after you where you had walked off to the balcony where he saw you staring off in the distance.

''Are you enjoying the party?'' Aleksander spoke and saw you turning around slowly. He looked at you and gave you a small smile before standing next to you.

''Technically?'' You replied with a hesitant voice as a smile formed on your lips before you shook your head. ''I'm not fond of parties,'' Aleksander heard you speak and letting out a chuckle.

''Wanna hear a secret?'' Aleksander replied and nudged your elbow slightly. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. ''Me neither,'' He admitted, making you chuckle at his teasing demanor. It was the first time the two of you that had ever spoken with each other.

''I know, that this isn't what you want,'' Aleksander began to say and looked at you. ''Our marriage,'' He replied.

''It isn't just that,'' You spoke and faced your body to him. ''It's just... I didn't knew that I was going to marry so soon,''

''I apologize that if I have upset you with my behaviour for the last couple of days,'' You began to say before he cut you off. ''No, I understand, believe me, I would do it too, but I want it to work, between me and you,''

''Are you sure?'' You asked him with a hesitant voice. Aleksander looked at you and smiled softly. For the first time in your life, maybe you could get the love you always wanted for once and for all.

#aleksander morozova smut #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morovoza #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader

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mistiell · 1 year

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Strange Love

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Healer! Reader

Summary: You run a secret clinic out of your home in the woods that surround Duva, meant mostly for Grisha fleeing Ravka. Your house has become a sort of safe house, one that very few know the location of. You’ve helped dozens of families flee the country over the years, but when the Black General find out what you’re up to, you find yourself in a very... unusual situation.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, brief mention of blood, Darkling might be a tiny bit ooc but idrk, sort of one sided enemies to lovers

A/N: I’m planning to make this a series, but I can’t promise regular updates bc I am shit at committing to literally anything lmao. It also depends on how y’all like this concept, so feedback would be very much appreciated!

Word Count: 2.7k

Current > Part 2

You’ve always tried to be an empathetic person.

Your mother, a healer like yourself, had taught you from an early age that every living thing deserves kindness, even when it might not seem that way. She ran a clinic out of your home, though for some odd reason, she forbid you from telling anyone about it. It confused you when you were young — wouldn’t telling people about it help her business grow? — but as you got older, you grew to understand what it was she really did.

It wasn’t a business at all. She had turned your home into a safe place for those who were fleeing the war. It was mostly families with grisha in the family that were either too young, too old, or too sick to fight. She was always so kind, so willing to help. When she passed, you vowed to do the same.

You converted the attic into a spare bedroom, a decent double bed against one wall and a couple of spare cots tucked against the other. You even added a small bookshelf with a handful of titles to make it seem a little more homey. You started offering the families that came to you later in the evening a safe place to rest before continuing on their journey towards the Fold. You aren’t sure how many actually make it through, but you don’t like to dwell on it much.

You’re restocking the pantry when there’s an urgent knock on your door, something you’ve grown used to over the years. You quickly make your way to the door and when you open it, you’re met with three worn looking faces.

“Are you Y/n?” The man asks, sounding just as tired as he looks. He’s got a cut on his forehead and dirt smeared over the right side of his face.

“Who sent you?” You ask calmly. You have a friend at the inn in town who keeps a look out for people who may need your help. You always ask to make sure it was her who sent them.

“Klara.” He replies. You smile and step out of the way to let them inside.

You come to find the man’s name is Rolan, the two travelling with him are his wife and daughter, Nika and Zarya.

“Where are you three headed?” You ask, gently wiping away the dirt around Rolan’s wound.

“Kerch, hopefully.” Nika states, watching you work carefully, “We aren’t keen on staying in Ravka.”

“Nika.” Her husband’s tone is one of warning, one that says ‘change the subject or stop talking’.

“It’s alright.” You assure, setting the now dirtied cloth in the bowl and turn to them with a smile that puts them at ease, “Whatever you say here stays within these walls.”

“I’m grisha.” Zarya blurts, voice small and shaky. The girl can’t be more than thirteen. You see the tears welling up in her eyes and your heart breaks a little for her. Based on how guilty she looks, you deduce that her parents aren’t.

“What kind?” You ask carefully.

“A healer.” She states, trying to wipe away her tears discreetly while her mother pulls her into a side hug.

“That’s one of the best to be.” You smile at her, setting about using your small science to heal her father’s head wound. Your answer would have been the same no matter what she said, but her being a healer makes consoling her a bit easier, “You have the power to help people. Just like this,” You glance over at her to see her watching you with fascination, “See? Not so scary.”

She smiles at you and you smile back.

Once you’re sure they’re all healed, you offer them something to eat and drink. Just as they finish, someone bangs on the door. It startles you all. You’re quick to reassure them that everything’s alright, but you really aren’t sure yourself. You make your way out of the small dining room and towards the front door. Standing behind it and listening through the wood, you pick up four heartbeats.

“Open up! We know you’re in there!” Your blood runs cold as the person pounds on the door again.

You rush back to the dining room, startling the family when you appear in the doorway, “You need to leave. Grab your things.”

“What? I don’t understa—.”

“There’s no time! Grab your bags!” You whisper yell and they scramble up from the table. You help them collect their belongings in record timing before ushering them towards the back door, “Listen to me carefully. When you leave, you cannot come back here. There’s a trail about a mile west of here that will take you back to the village. Go straight to the inn and tell Klara I sent you. She’ll let you stay for the night but you need to be gone as soon as possible, alright?”

“Alright.” Rolan nods, turning to leave with his family before adding, “Thank you. Truly.”

You nod and rush back to the front door once they’ve left. You pull it open, trying to look as casual as possible, though when you spot two heartrenders amongst the four people you’d heard earlier, you realize it won’t matter. They’ll be able to hear your racing heart just as well as you can hear theirs.

“Are you Y/n L/n?” Your attention turns to the squaller in front of you.

“Depends. Who’s asking?” You chance a glance behind her to see who you’d be up against if you fought back. Two heartrenders, one inferni, and one squaller.

You’re fucked.

“General Kirigan.” Your heart drops to your stomach. Saints, you’re really fucked.

“What does he want with me?” You ask, voice steady.

“We’ve had reports of someone assisting in smuggling Grisha across the Fold.” She states cooly, gaze cold and unwavering, “We have reason to believe that our culprit is you.”

You try to think of a way out of this situation. You definitely can’t run passed her. You could try to flee through the back door but really, where would that get you? You can’t take your usual escape route seeing as you had sent that family down it. You’ll be damned if you get them caught. You could flee through the woods, but do you really want to chance getting lost?

Well, you suppose getting lost is better than facing the wrath of the Black General.

Before you have a chance to overthink it, you grab the woman by the front of her kefta and punch her in the nose as hard as physically possible. You shove her backwards, sending her sprawling against the dirt, and take off towards the back of your home, hearing her shout at the others to follow you.

You make it out the back door and start sprinting through the woods, the wind lashing at your cheeks and biting at your forearms where your sleeves are still rolled up. You can hear them getting closer, shouting at you and one another. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, beating fast and hard.

Until it slows drastically. So drastically that it has you gasping and tripping over your own feet, scraping your face and palms against the ground. The world spins and spots dance across your vision. You try to fight against it, pressing your hands together and trying to raise your heart rate again. You manage to make it back onto your feet, stumbling and using the trees around you to keep yourself upright. You turn and lock eyes with one of the heartrenders, the one that’s currently trying to put you to sleep. He looks surprised and a little horrified by the fact that you’re still standing and you smirk at him, mimicking the position of his hands. You focus on a specific part of his brain, making it release a chemical you know will make him tired while lowering his heart rate and slowing his breathing all at once. He falls to the ground in seconds.

You breathe in a breath of relief as his hold on your body is broken, though it’s short lived. The other heartrender takes his place, knocking the wind out of your lungs and forcing you to the ground. You blink your eyes slowly, gasping as you watch a pair of boots enter your line of sight. The person rolls you over and you find yourself looking up at the squaller. There’s a fair amount of blood trickling from her nose and you note that she looks royally pissed off.

“Fuck you.” It’s slurred and really doesn’t help you, but it feels good watching her face screw up into a scowl.

“Finish the job, Ivan.” The heartrender that’s still standing steps forward and before you can even begin to protest, consciousness slips from your grasp.

—

You aren't sure how much time has passed when you wake, but your head is pounding and your mouth is dry. With a groan, you roll onto your back and press a hand to your head, startling when your other smacks you in the forehead. You peel your eyes open and when your hands finally come into focus, you realize you're in shackles, a metal bar separating your hands to prevent you from using your small science. It's then that your memory returns to you and the panic starts to set in.

You sit up with a gasp, scooting back—despite how much your palms sting—to lean against the wall as you take in your surroundings. The cell you're in is cold, the stone walls and dirt floor doing absolutely nothing to insulate the room. There's a long corridor beyond the bars with more cells on either wall, though they're all empty. There's a large wooden door at the other end of the hall, you assume that's the only way in or out.

You shiver, pulling your knees to your chest in an attempt to preserve your body heat. You attempt to touch your hands together so you can at least warm yourself up, but to no avail. After failing for the fifth time, you huff, wiping away the tears of frustration that have gathered on your waterline.

The heavy door you had noted earlier swings open with a bang, startling you beyond belief. Your eyes blow wide at the sight of the man practically stalking towards you. From the solid black shade of his kefta, you know that this is the infamous General Kirigan. You can’t read his expression, but you’re sure he can’t be happy. One of the heartrenders that had captured you—Ivan, you think his name is—accompanies him. It isn’t long before he reaches your cell, looming over you from your place on the floor.

“So, you’re the woman that’s been smuggling Grisha out of Ravka.” His voice is smooth and confident as he watches you glare at him.

“I have done no such thing.” You state firmly, watching him quirk a brow at you, “I run a clinic. I treat patients and let them stay when needed. What they do after they leave my home is none of my business.”

He’s silent for a moment. He seems to be analyzing you and you wish you knew what was going on in his head.

“I heard you put up quite the fight,” He starts and you wonder where he’s going with this, “You broke Zoya’s nose.”

“So that’s her name.” You smile passive aggressively, “I would apologize, but I’m not one to lie.”

He stares at you curiously. You squirm a bit under the intensity of his gaze, but you don’t seem scared, “You also managed to overpower one of my Oprichnik. The heartrender. Do you remember?”

“The one that tried to sedate me? Yes, I remember.” You huff, glancing away from him, “Listen, if you’re going to kill me, you might as well get it over with.” He huffs a small laugh at your words. It feels a little condescending, even more so when he looks at you with mild amusement.

“I’m not going to kill you, miss L/n. You,” he looks you up and down, “Intrigue me.”

“You’re keeping me alive because I’m interesting?” You scoff and stare at him incredulously, word saturated with sarcasm, “Oh, you really are so generous, General Kirigan.” You shake your head with a wry laugh, “If you aren’t going to kill me, what are you going to do with me?”

He looks to Ivan and jerks his head toward the door to your cell. You watch as the heartrender unlocks and opens it.

“I plan to make you an Oprichnik.”

“You what?” You gawk at him as Ivan pulls you up from the floor. This has to be some kind of fever dream. He must be lying. Maybe he’s planning to make an example of you. Maybe he’s misleading you so you’ll go with him willingly, “Why?”

“I don’t believe I owe you an explanation.” Like hell he doesn’t, “All you need to know right now is that you’ll be staying here awhile.”

“Where exactly is here?” You ask as Ivan takes your arm and begins leading you down the hall, the General falling into line a few paces ahead of you.

“The Little Palace.” Your eyes damn near fall out of your skull. You must have been asleep for days if they transported you all the way from Duva to Os Alta.

They lead you up a spiral staircase and down several hallways. You can’t help but admire the interior design of the place as you go. You’ve heard stories of the Little Palace but you realize now that they’re either grossly exaggerated or don’t do it justice. Whoever designed it has impeccable taste

As you pass people in the halls, they whisper amongst themselves. You make a point of glowering at them until they look away. You don’t intend to be here for long, but you find a bit of amusement watching them squirm under your gaze. You can only imagine the rumours that have formed in the time you’ve been unconscious.

Eventually, you come to a large set of doors with flowers and vines carved into the wood, a theme that seems to be common throughout the whole place. When the General pushes them open, you find yourself walking down yet another hallway, though this one has doors lining either side. He stops you at the fifth door to the right, unlocking the door with a small key and pushing it open. Ivan practically shoves you through the doorway and you shoot him a deadly look, though he seems unfazed. You turn your attention back to the room and find it is nothing like you were expecting.

It’s a fair size, a single bed pressed up against the far wall. There’s a small dresser that doubles as a bedside table against the wall to your left and a bare desk to your right. Just byond the desk, there's a door that leads to what you can only assume is a bathroom. One that you pray has a shower considering the dirt and grime that cakes your arms and face.

“This will be your dormitory.” You startle, and when you turn to look at him you realize Ivan is no longer next to him. You stare at him like he’s gone mad. This has to be some kind of cruel joke, “You’ll find your kefta in the top drawer of your dresser. You’ll be expected in the anatomy room at eight bells tomorrow morning. Until then, you’re free to explore the palace.”

“You’re fucking with me.” You blurt, immediately regretting the words the second they leave your mouth.

He laughs, and for a moment he feels human, “I assure you, miss L/n. I am not ‘fucking with you’, as you so eloquently put it.”

He reaches out to give you the key and you glance between him and the object nervously before taking it from him. You push aside the fact that he just swore in favour of asking, “Then why are you being so… nice?”

“Despite what you may have heard, I am not a monster.” A large part of you doesn’t believe him, sensing he has some ulterior motive for keeping you alive, “I know you don’t believe me, which is fair considering the circumstances.” Saints, can he read minds now? “But I assure you, as long as you do as you’re told, no harm will come to you. Understood?”

In other words, he’ll keep you alive as long as you don’t become a problem. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you nod, “Yes, General.”

“Good.” He nods back, “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything from me, find Ivan or Fedyor. They’ll know where to find me.”

You have no idea who Fedyor is, but you nod nonetheless before he closes your door, leaving you alone in a deafening silence. Dropping the key into a little ceramic dish on top of your dresser, you flop down onto the bed, the mattress firmer than the one you have at home. You sigh, rolling over onto your back with an arm thrown over your eyes.

How the hell are you going to get yourself out of this?

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

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shawty-writes-a-little · 1 year

Text

From Eden 2.

Part 1 Part2 Part3 Part4

Darkling x brekker!reader

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: fake deaths? Aleksander? He comes w his warnings S2 SPOILERS

Summary: The brekkers aren’t well with expressing concern without scowls and Aleksander haunts her dreams…but is it a dream?

An: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!

—

From what y/n could gather of passage of time through the light of lamp lit street to sun rays, it was nearly about two days she was locked up where she was. When she was taken away she couldn’t gather where she was, but by the looks of the place from outside it seemed like a work space and where she was locked in was like a storage unit. Not difficult for Kaz to figure out either, pekka wouldn’t keep her at any obvious locations, Nina used one of wylan’s creations to help unlock the numbered storage under Pekka’s name which Jesper found out about. Nina escaped alongside y/n as Kaz outwitted pekka to escape the office of paperworks.

Everyone was quite out of state when they reached the cemetery, a certain new safe space that Kaz held. Even the wraith was hurt of the fight from the mad man. The entire walk to the shed at cemetery neither of them said anything, a sharp frown on both the brekker siblings’ faces.

As Y/n sat on the small of a seat inside the shed next to a lantern Kaz leaned to her level and roughly with his gloved hand moved his sister’s face from the jaw a bit to see her injuries, the punches and supposed beating from pekka’s men, it hurt more than Kaz’s pride. That was his family, the one person he had sole responsibility over to not get hurt and that’s what ended up happening. Being the man he was, always his expression unreadable, however as of now he gritted his teeth and called our “Nina.” And backed away for her to heal y/n. It seemed he was furious, he often let what he felt show on his face.

The small of the shed lit with three lanterns fell silent as Nina tended to Inej and y/n. Y/n gestured for Inej to be looked at rather immediately because her wounds were fresh and deeper whilst she had been quite alright pressing against most her wounds and the cuts on her face. “Two days…” Kaz breathed “Two days you have been back in ketterdam and you get kidnapped. Your favourite sport it seems?” Kaz taunted his sister, everyone had had quite the day and Kaz wasn’t one to point fingers for casualties and mistakes but his fear of loosing his sister resulted into suppressed anger of why she was lost in the first place.

“Oh?” y/n scoffed “Why I am really sorry Kaz…I am really sorry of all the bad blood you have with the entire population of ketterdam got to me. Let’s see next time when you’re outnumbered by a group of muscular men twice your size and the whole stadwatch apparently whe—“

“I would never end up the way you did.” Kaz stated interrupting her midway. Inej and Jesper shared a look with another that read how much they dreaded being here for the siblings quarrel.

“Surely.” Y/n nodded “You most definitely would’ve ended up worse than me because you are far more dislikable than I am.” Y/n added with a shrug, with that Nina snorted a bit as she continues to concentrate on inej’s wounds.

“You were placed in the smallest of room, most undisguised underground place we could find yet you managed to get yourself kidnapped!” Kaz replied running a frustrated hand through this hair “Quite the talent you have!”

“I wasn’t even on the streets…I was walking the hallway of the shady underground hotel you placed me in and the stadwatch were patrolling inside the hotel could you imagine?” She replied defending her circumstances. She wasn’t even aware of the weight of the problems on them by pekka at the moment so she truly did not believe strolling the small hallway to clear her mind would do any harm.

“What part of not to leave your room did you not understand?” Kaz replied raising his brow, more so agitated now.

“You did not tell me the stadwatch was after us, you did not tell me pekka was after us, you did not tell me about the crow club! You never do and that’s your problem you never explain any circumstances to me! You simply expect me to be the seven year old again in some cottage where you’d put bricks by the door and tell me not to leave?” Y/n replied, growing up after Jordie, Kaz picked up on his traits of keeping their siblings safe in ketterdam. The last place for children to be alone and safe but somehow Kaz managed from shelters under long stairways to footpaths to abandoned cottages every unfortunate place until he got where he was. It was a difficult long childhood of ‘y/n don’t open the door for anyone but me’ ‘don’t peek through the window’ ‘don’t answer if anyone is at the door’ ‘hide here if someone breaks in’. It was difficult but the two Brekkers grew up in the time and made it out of the hard childhood. It was very nerve wrecking and full of anxiety for Kaz to leave his sister alone whilst he worked here and there so the two could eat and frightening for little y/n to wait in an empty cold place hoping her brother could make it back. However things had changed by far better for them over the time and as of now y/n hated how Kaz viewed her as the vulnerable responsibility of his again but in truth when Y/n was kidnapped Kaz just felt like that child again anxious and worried the whole day if his sister was alright. “If I am that much of a responsibility and a bother to you why didn’t you just leave me on the other side of the fold!”

“It’s almost as if your stupidity spreads because I truly regret not doing so!” Kaz replied with a scoff as he left the room and after a long awkward silence Wylan and Jesper followed him out too.

As Nina wrapped up Inej both of them shared a sympathetic look to y/n aware that kaz’s last words must’ve stung a bit but y/n’s face wasn’t phased at the slightest. She had known Kaz and all his outbursts all her life, not that it didn’t hurt at the moment she was familiar with everything hurting she almost didn’t care to encounter with his words. With Aleksander’s passing, she was simply numb at the time, Nina began to heal y/n’s wounds and her cuts but all she could think of was Aleksander. Every moment spent with him flashing across her mind however much she wanted it to stop. She shifted in her place for Nina to work on her wounds and her touch took her back to certain moments.

“You are exaggerating!” Y/n exclaimed as Aleksander placed her on their bed gently, quite the upset frown on his face as he didn’t utter a word. There had been a certain casualty on one of the second army bases and y/n had gotten hurt, not something of a large extent yet Aleksander was unsettled far more than she was.

“Told you not to.” He muttered in a hushed quite cross-with-you way. He crouched on his knees by the side of the bed to attend the wounds on her face again after the healers had done so already. Y/n was aware she couldn’t ask him not to, he treated the slightest of scratch on her like his own. “Does that hurt?” He asked flatly as he gently rubbed the ointment by cut.

“I am alright Aleksander truly I understand you worry-“ she tried to explain to him but he wasn’t having any of it.

“You were bleeding y/n you are anything but alright.” Aleksander said interrupting her, “I just don’t understand what was the need for that huh? The troop could have handled themselves, what if you would’ve been injured far worse? What if the healers weren’t around to get you so fast?”

“Well I am not injured far worse and the healers were around.” Y/n stated with a shrug and a suppressed chuckle escaped her as much as she wanted to appear serious about her well being to Aleksander she couldn’t help but find his made up worse possible scenarios excessive.

“It isn’t funny y/n!” Aleksander exclaimed. “It wouldn’t be funny if you were seriously injured and I wouldn’t be funny if I had lost you alright?” He spoke agitated standing up as he turned away from her, getting difficult to look in the eyes of his love realising he’d almost lost her.

“Aleksander…” Y/n exhaled softly and stood up taking a small step to reach him and tried to make him face her by placing her hands by his shoulders but his firmly did not, “Aleksander look at me.” She asked him and forcefully got him to turn around to face her. “I am alright, flesh and bone. I am in front of you I am alright—I understand your worry I truly do but if you worry about the littlest of injuries on me you—“

“How can I not? My entire world lies within you!” He sighed and took her hands in his, he knew she wasn’t wrong with whatever she was promoting to say but at the same time they wasn’t anything she could say that would ever get him to not worry, ever get him to sleep alright any night she is away from her on army bases, “I don’t even want to go that far but everytime you end up in some casualty the mere thought of loosing you…just makes me-I don’t even want to think of a world where you don’t exist. It’s pointless existence, it’s dark, it’s excruciatingly lonely and with you it’s not so I apologise if you feel like I overbear you with my worry but is it not possible for a man drunk on love to hold his beloved as if he’s holding the whole world?”

Aleksander had said that day, where was he now? Where was he now to hold his world? Made it an immense thing for never having to be in a world without her did he not consider the same for her? True love consumes one’s soul, he made every whim and every inconvenience fade away…then he fades away himself. A place he’d never come back from. How could he simply just leave her for herself, she hoped for the circumstances to be reversed, her to die for once whilst he would be alive to deal with the hurt. The painful reality.

“Y/n!” Nina exclaimed pulling her out of her thoughts as she blinked her eyes for a moment and looked back at the heartrender, still solemn and neutral as if the most fond memories of her love didn’t haunt her mind, a trait like kaz’s…never let it show on your face. “Where did you just leave for a second saints…” she exhaled and finished the last of wrapping on her wounds. “There…that’s done! Are you alright?” Nina asked her and shared a look with Inej, they both saw how she looked confusedly out of place.

“Yes, doesn’t hurt.” Y/n replied with a shrug keeping her answer short, staring off into the stone wall.

“But are you alright?” Inej asked furthering Nina’s previous question with a different tone, she meant to look out for kaz’s sister just as much as she would for him. She is all family he has left, at the end of the day the void of family was always so heavy “Don’t pay much mind to what Kaz said, he didn’t mean it.” Inej said trying to console y/n who let on to be alright but was upset and seemed visibly annoyed at kaz’s remarks. If only she’d known.

“He is right though…I should’ve stayed at that side of the fold.” I should’ve stayed with him, I should’ve gotten a proper goodbye. All those morose thoughts occupied her head yet if she didn’t say it herself nobody would suspect it in their wildest dreams what she had indulged in. For now she felt it pointless to tell anyone either ways, Kaz would find her stupid given he already did and the others would show their pity and try hard to be sorry for her loss yet her grief was her own. Not as if their sympathy could bring him back and not as if their words would make her feel better. It was all her own.

—

On further days Kaz had y/n stay in wylan’s little laboratory given he had a clean slate out of stadwatch record and the crows were subjected to check in time to time so it was the safest place he could arrange at the moment, on the little couch in the damp laboratory of Wylan’s, Kaz had crouched to the ground strapping some knives on her sister’s boots “Oh how smart is that Kaz if someone were to attack me it would just take me about ten minutes to kneel, undo my boots, undo the knots on the knife, unsheathe the knife and stab them! How clever! Given just keeping a knife in my hand would take me about a second but why risk that? We’ve to ensure I end up almost dead again so you get to—“ y/n was about to taunt him sarcastically even more as Kaz tightly secured the knives by her boot and handed her one in her hands.

“I borrowed these from Inej.” He said and placed another one on her side “The ones on your boots are back up knives, keep these handy…” he said pointing to the ones he just placed by her sides and stood up with his cane back on his feet, “You are aware how to use them?” Kaz asked, he knew she was but he wanted to mock her on how he had to ask to ensure that. Typical sibling way.

“I don’t know I think I need to recall…maybe I can try the pointy end of knife on that Sokol river eyebrow of yours as practise?” She snapped at him turning the sheathed knife between her fingers.

“My eyebrows are perfectly normal.” He scoffed turning away from the couch she was sitting on and gave a nod to wylan as he left after giving him some instructions of what more he’d wanted of his lab sorcery.

—

After a few visits from Jesper and Inej here and there Wylan’s rants about certain chemicals and portions as he worked finally tired y/n as she dozed off on the couch on the underground laboratory. In her dream she found herself in council chambers. Council chambers she was familiar with it was a second army tent, dark outside with a lantern in her hand. She saw herself walk inside the tent as a voice called out in the dream, “My love…” said he as he walked out of the shadows. Aleksander.

For a moment she saw herself in the dream just pause, considering everything she was considering at the moment, throwing something at him—herself perhaps, shouting at him, crushing him for leaving her, “Aleksander.” She breathed as he walked across the table to her closer proximity.

“My my…” he spoke grimacing as he softly placed his hand by her cheeks to examine her cuts “Look at what they did to you.” He said to y/n as she stared at him, what hurt far worse was seeing him in her dreams knowing this is the only place she could do so.

“You left me…” her voice trailed off ignoring her remark as she looked away from him not meeting his gaze. “After everything…you made the selfish choice, you’ve left. You’ve left this world leaving it for me to exist alone…without you.” She complained, she did this in her head all day, this was yet another fragment of it just in her sleep she gathered. Her mind trying to comfort her, visualising the voice of her complains.

Aleksander took her hands in his gently, his touch, his touch felt so real, so longed as if she had been home for the first time but in the back of her mind she was aware this wasn’t real “You took off the wedding ring…” he pointed out with a hushed tone, not upset nor angry just solemn understandingly sad tone.

“You abandoned me…” y/n repeated the subject she brought up, she took her hands out of his and gripped the collar of his kefta “You abandoned me! You died…you made promised-you-I loved you..I-I love you! And you aren’t here you died you’ve left me and-“

“I am here aren’t I?” Aleksander reminded her gently bringing her face to look at him, look at him in the eyes. With a soft smile he tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, he seemed his relaxed self, as if this was one of the serene evenings at little palace.

“No you’re not…” she said letting out a dejected huff and tears prickled her eyes. Arguing with her own mind is what this would be given it was her dream yet Aleksander seemed so…himself.

“I am.” He corrected her “I am right here for you…I-I wouldn’t ever leave you. Didn’t I promise you that?”

“You promised me and yet you left…” she repeated as if to herself, getting her mind to confirm over and over he is gone and to accept that. “You…why are you doing this?” She said moving away and rubbed her eyes, “The ghost of you is haunting my dreams…” she groaned cursing her mind playing tricks on her.

“Y/n listen to me…” This time he firmly placed his hands on her shoulders and made him face her “I haven’t left you. I’m not gone…” with that he simply vanished and y/n breathed heavily jolting out of her dream. It was a dream…It was a dream? It took herself a few moments to come to terms with that herself and get used to the surroundings as she found Jesper and wylan by her side staring.

“Are you alright?” Wylan asked as she jumped out of her seat on the couch, baffled but settled into reality her heart raced so fast.

“You look like you were being chased by wild dogs in an open field!” Jesper commented at her frantic state but she was too out of mind to register that.

“What does that even mean?” Wylan asked Jesper quite confused at his phrasing.

“What like you haven’t ever been chased by dogs in an open field?” Jesper asked in a matter-of-factly manner.

“You could’ve just said she looked like she ran a lot what does being chased by dogs even have anything to do with this?” Wylan asked raising a brow, both of them indulged in petty debate as y/n panted leaning forward on Wylan’s desk for support “Ah don’t go near that!” He exclaimed as he stood up and moves the sizzling portion rack away from her, “Still are you alright? It looks like it was a bad dream…”

“You can talk to us about it if you want to.” Jesper offered her with a comforting smile.

“No-no—I uh-I am fine I just need some air.” Y/n replied out of breath and rushed to leave the lab leaving Jesper and Wylan confused and concerned.

—

HI HIIIII I turn 16 today

It’s my yearly tradition to post a piece on my bday and I have had the most hectic week ever but I made this possible regardless please let me know what you think <3

Tags: @gwenspter @mori1b2bpad @budugu @duchcess @sloppyzengarden

#general kirigan x reader #darkling fanfiction #darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan x you #the darkling x you

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myeur-n · 10 months

Text

Imagine that the Darkling had just caused the death of his own mother, and he needed to look for you once more

Note:

Purely based on s2 of the Shadow and Bone Netflix series, so some lore might be incorrect

"We've used the last of Baghra's remains for the others," the Darkling's Alkemi informed him, but he remained in his lonely despair in a mind unhinged. He needed a break from all of this planning to expand the Fold and consume the whole of Ravka in his darkness - he needed,

"The Wanderer," he murmured under his breath as his eyes darkened with a new way to beat this grief festering within him.

"Vladim, tell everyone to make use of their new Amplifiers. I'm going to scout ahead for some time," the Darkling pushed himself off his chair and began to march out of his own encampment.

"But General, why can't you just let the others do it for you?" his Alkemi raised a brow.

"That's none of your concern," the Darkling turned back at him, eyes glaring into his very soul while the corners of his camp turned darker. "Do as I say and speak nothing of it?" He ordered again through gritted teeth. The Alkemi pressed his lips hard against each other and nodded.

The Darkling mounted his horse and wasted no time astriding North, knowing what he needed was somewhere in the Fjerdan borders, the last time he had heard of her.

You were knee deep in a river with a ceramic vase in your hand. As you dipped it into the cold yet calm, icy river to collect the cold waters, you carefully walked your way out of river. Looking around your surroundings first to ensure that no one was looking, you slowly heated the vase with your own fire.

"Not very discreet now, aren't we?" A familiar voice suddenly called out from within the darkness of the forest ahead of you.

"Who's there?" You frowned and clenched your fists tight, though you already had an idea whose voice it belonged to.

"Y/n, has it really been that long since we last saw each other?" The Darkling calmly sauntered out of the shadows of the trees, with both his hands clasped behind his back.

"Its you. How long has it been? Half a century, I'd bet," you moved toward him and shoved your vase into his hands.

"Do you not know who I am?" He turned to you with a cold tone, but you've been living in the Fjerdan mountains long enough to know that he was just playing around with you.

"Whatever identity you've taken this time, Aleksander, I don't care. Just don't bother me with your propaganda," and both of you began to walk towards your modest cabin made of wood and steel, blanketed in a thick layer of snow.

"Anyway, what brings you here? This place isn't exactly friendly to Grisha. And I've heard that you're not really popular in Ravka either," you opened the door and led him in first. Just as he was about to sit on your favourite spot and in your living room with his ridiculously massive fur coat, you forced it out of him, which he complied with a light, but bittersweet smile.

The Darkling was usually broody, but you knew that something was genuinely upsetting him.

"How about we sit by the fireplace while I make some tea, then? Just like old times," you offered.

"I'm willing to sit by the fireplace, but I do not wish to drink your horrible tea," he only said as he looked around your plain house. You nodded and went to the kitchen, still within earshot of what your guest would say.

"I didn't imagine that you would live someplace so... small, Little Saint," he remarked on the lack of decorations in your house. "Then again, you're the one who's lesser in ambition between us two,".

"You don't understand, Aleksander. Not everyone lives in your Little Palace, under the riches of the kings that betrayed our own kind," you brought two mugs of hot drinks to the fireplace and settled down slowly next to him, passing one of them to him.

"I told you, I don't want your tea," he groaned.

"Its hot cocoa. And stop complaining like a child," you rolled your eyes.

Cautiously, he accepted it and took a few sips, before he placed it down next to him.

"Y/n, there's something I must tell you," he began.

You didn't answer, but your silence beckoned him to continue talking.

"That is... I wish you could have accepted the title of Saint, y/n. If you had been at the Little Palace with me from the start, you could have kept me in check," he choked out his words.

"I don't think old friends could have changed you. You've turned from the path we used to walk together hundreds of years ago,".

"But with you there, you could have at least - burnt some sense into me, like you've always done," he hissed as his eyes glared into fireplace. "You could have...," he breathed, then your living room began to darken with his shadow.

"Could have what?".

"You could have saved me from killing my own mother," his voice trembled as the confession took place.

"What?" You resigned your comfort in his presence and began to crawl backwards and away from him.

"Its true. I killed my mother-,".

"How could you do that to Baghra?!" You shot upwards, now fully standing and prepared to summon your wildfire to protect yourself.

Had the Darkling came to you to destroy every reminder of his past? Both of you had been comrades since you were children - you were his first friend, follower and soldier. If he could kill Baghra - the very person who birthed him and stood by his side for centuries, then what of you?

"No, no, don't be scared, y/n!" He held his hands out, expression contorted in fear - but not fear of you.

You summoned a sphere of concentrated fire, but then, suddenly the shadow around you began to form a beast of more than 8 feet tall, barely able to fit into your own cabin. The beast brushed past the Darkling and stretched out its dark tentacles toward you, prepared to decapitate you - and you recognised it from Baghra's old stories, that it was a Nichevo'ya.

Only the Sun Summoner could stun this monster.

You spread out your fire into the Cut, prepared to fight against it.

"NO, don't do it!" The Darkling shouted, but his voice drowned out between you and the monster. You took a deep breath, and as the Nichevo'ya stretched its hands towards you for the killing blow, you quickly turn defensive and made a shield of fire.

It let out an ear-piercing scream, and you summoned a beam of fire from your core, before you penetrated it into the monster of darkness.

The Nichevo'ya disappeared into the shadows.

Your breathing was ragged and you needed to take a seat, so you clumsily rest yourself against your own wall.

"Was that the thing that killed your mother?" You let out a tired sigh.

"Yes...," the Darkling only stared in silence at you.

"And it's yours?".

"Yes,".

"How dare you use merzost again! Can't you see that its hurt thousands of people once, and now you've gone ahead and did it to your own mother," you exclaimed at him and rushed to open the door. "Get out and never come back. I can't see you like this," turning your gaze away from his scarred face, you tried to control your breathing.

"You know I never meant to, y/n," he began to unbuckle his knees and slowly approached you, as if he feared both your wrath and himself.

"It was always like that, Aleksander. You weren't a monster when all of this obsession to save our kind began. You were our commander - someone I could pour my loyalty for. But now," you turned your head away, holding back your tears. "You're obsessed with hunting down this Sun Summoner of yours and expanding the Fold. Won't that kill all Grisha too?".

The Darkling pursed his lips and studied your face. Slowly turning to finally meet his eyes once, you realised that he was displeased with your opinions, but made no move to silent you with any threat.

"I promised those that follow my command they will be safe," he added in a low voice.

"And I'll bet that they believed it. However, you know that you can't fool me. I was there with you for hundreds of years, heard thousands of your promises to all of Grisha. And you only brought upon them ruin and death with your ambition,".

Your old friend remained silent and only stared at you, wide-eyed and furious. He shifted his gaze to the door you've opened wide to beckon for his leave. Nodding, his legs slowly brought him outside your house. You followed him out as if you're still attracted to his power of command like all those years ago.

"Aleksander," you said once more, and he stopped in his tracks at the middle of forest. "You're not a monster like what everyone has said, especially your Alina Starkov. If she had seen what the previous kings had done to Grisha, the way that people had hunted us down and refused to provide us any food and water - simply because you requested more from the king, she would have done the same despite what she thought of herself," you approached him and cupped his one metallic hand, and his real one in yours.

You flinched a bit at how cold it was.

"I know I can't stop you once you've started your plans, but please," you began to rub your fingers against his knuckles, warming them up with your fire of hearth. "Don't kill the Sun Summoner. You're already lonely enough, and I can't see you ruin yourself for another century again," your breath trembled.

He nodded, and only looked into your bright eyes of hope with his starless ones. You weren't begging him to promise himself to your words, for you knew that your old friend couldn't break his promises to you - and so his silence revealed to you - that even he did not know if he would kill his Sun Summoner or not.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck and embraced him. The Darkling closed his eyes, held back his breath and only buried his face within your arms.

Something was telling you that this might be the last time you'd see him, and he thought so too.

#shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone #fanfic #fem reader #the darkling #ben barnes #friends #aleksander morozova #aleksander x y/n #inferni #grishaverse #final battle #aleksander x reader #alina starkov #sun summoner #shadow summoner #y/n #angst #shadow and bone s2

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kasagia · 2 months

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Can't catch me now... pt. 2

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling xgrisha! reader Summary: The Hunger Games in Ravka. 12 districts. 12 tributes. 12 mentors. 11 young people die every year. 1 winner. Aleksander was a mentor to many. But only your face will haunt him for centuries. Inspired by: The Hunger Games. I changed the world of both of them a bit. Word Count: 4,4 k Taglist: @flostvs1508 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @aoi-targaryen @summersummoner-pat @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @msblacklupin Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist PART 1 ~•♤♤♤•~

"You look like death. Have you even slept an hour?" You shrug at Genya's question. The woman sighs and works on your face to make you presentable. "The general was furious. He's a good man, despite everything they say about him. You have to understand that... he didn't expect this turn of events, and his stoic attitude was violated. I swear, this is the second time I've seen him lose his cool. And I've been here since I was a child."

"When was the first time?" You ask curiously, not believing her for a moment. You couldn't trust anyone here. You could only count on yourself and no one else. You missed Alina a lot.

"I will tell you this with a complete twist. Anyway, if someone asks, you didn't know it from me. 40 years ago, in the Hunger Games, the General was... asked to be a mentor. Her name was Luda. She was brave and beautiful, with a good heart and a pure soul. She was a healer in her village. She volunteered. In exchange for her younger sister."

"And what happened? He scared her with his shadows because she was a vegetarian and didn't want to eat meat to get stronger?" You mock, as she is making final amendments to your look.

"She died." An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Genya was blindly combing your hair, obviously thinking about her. You could see from the look in her eyes that she must have been especially close to this tribute. "She was... close to the general. He had been mourning her death for a very long time. And I don't want to spread rumours, but the tribute who killed her and won the Hunger Games was found hanging in the forest near his home village. His family was soon convicted of conspiring against the crown and hanged in a more… spectacular way."

"I feel like you're not telling me this just to satisfy my curiosity." You guess as she finally pulls away from you.

You don't know what's worse, when she fixes your face with her strange power or when she looks at you intently, looking for something else to improve your appearance. You weren't used to caring THAT much about yourself. Because who would want to look at an orphan?

"I just want to warn you that… our choices don't necessarily affect only us." You roll your eyes at her attempt at intimidation. Of course. He couldn't make you do anything himself, so he sent his minions to convince you. Quite pathetic, like for the terrible Darkling, who everyone feared.

"I am an orphan. There's nothing he can take from me. I... I have nothing left to lose or to care about..." You say it quietly, rubbing your wrist with your hand. You try hard not to think about Alina and Mal. Your only family... all you have left after those you lost.

"And your life?"

"We're all going to die someday, Genya." Your soft whisper seals the uncomfortable silence.

You think about your parents and siblings—everyone you lost—and the life you could have had that fate ripped from you before you learned how to fight for yourself. You lost everything as a child. There's nothing left for you. At least nothing good.

"Here. You look amazing. There is only one thing missing." She says this with a smile and takes out a long, black coat with black and white embroidery from the closet. It's a kefta. A fucking kefta.

"What the hell is that?" You ask angrily, standing up from your chair and looking at the piece of clothing in utter disgust.

"The general ordered it especially for you. You are a Grisha. You are one of us, and you should present yourself as such." She says this and puts the kefta on the chair.

You walk up to it and run your hand over the material. You expected something rough—just like the general's character—and uncomfortable to wear, since the keftas protected Grisha from every blade and bullet, but this... was nothing like armor. It was soft and cozy. Like velvet. Nothing you may have experienced in your district.

"Black? Isn't that his colour?" You ask, trying to reassure yourself of how terrible this damn thing is.

"Merzost is closely associated with the Darkling bloodline in our culture, since he used it to create the fold. Consider it a… coincidental coincidence." You snort when you hear her explanation. If anything, it was a sign of belonging. The general's new toy. Freak of nature. What a pity he'll lose you before he can use you for the good of his fucking Grisha.

"Other people won't see it like that. You know this, so stop lying to me." The redhead sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Just put it on. People need to know that the king broke his word to Grisha to force you to participate in the Hunger Games, breaking part of the covenant between us."

"This isn't my war to fight, Genya. Besides, I'm going to die in games anyway, so what's the difference?" Your response only enraged her more.

She didn't raise her voice, and you wouldn't have recognized her emotions unless you saw her hands tremble slightly before she placed them behind her back. You wonder how many times she has had to hide her true feelings.

"You have Merzost in your veins, the most powerful force you can draw from. Do you really want to give it all up? Lose the opportunity you have in front of you? Do you know how many of us have been waiting for you?" She asks with resentment in her voice, but you really don't want to argue with her.

You know it doesn't make sense because they are all here believing in some stupid children's story, a fairy tale that made you a savior in their eyes, and now, since you have finally arrived, you are supposed to fly around and pretend to be a hero you know you are not. As if you could do anything you wanted.

"I was dead long before I was chosen for The Hunger Games. Year after year I was only prolongs the inevitable. I am sorry, but that's the truth. Don't get your hopes up."

"I see that my favourite suicide is in good shape today." Your discussion is interrupted by the appearance of the Darkling. You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. You seriously considered throwing yourself at the spear of one of those ancient armored knights that decorated the halls of the palace. At least you wouldn't have to endure his presence any longer. "Are you rested? Fed?"

"Don't you have something else to do instead of keeping an eye on me? Or send your minions to do it for you? This is getting tiring and irritating." Genya gives you an offended look. She huffs, leaving the chambers as she gets a nod from the Darkling.

"I am your mentor. It's my duty to take care of you." He says, clasping his hands behind him once you're left alone. He looks at you carefully and takes a step towards you. This time, you don't step back but stare at him defiantly.

"Then it is with great pleasure that I would like to relieve you of this obligation." Your words only make him chuckle. He straightens a piece of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. His fingertips brush against your cheek, making you shiver. However, you do nothing to let him know how much his proximity bothers you.

"Oh, you won't make it. Only a king can do this. Do you like your kefta?" He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head towards the offending fabric still hanging on the chair.

"It looks like a floor rag." You say, not hiding your disgust. He chuckles darkly again. He takes the kefta in his hands and unfolds it, pretending to look at it carefully as he walks over to you again.

"Then Karamzin must be richer than I thought, if this is what your floor rags look like. Especially the orphanage."

"Have you been rummaging through my files? What for?" You ask in shock, trying to mask your fear. If he finds out about Alina and Mal… you don't want to have any more deaths on your conscience.

"Better put it on if you don't want to find out very soon." You decide to follow your better judgement instead of your pride and turn your back on him, letting him put on the hideous kefta. Surprisingly, the material hugs you perfectly. You feel warm and soft—the complete opposite of what you know. You gasp in shock as he reaches for his belt and pulls you towards him. You bump into his chest as he tightens the belt around your waist. "Good girl. Now, put your hand in the crook of my arm and smile nicely, and everything will turn out great today. And if you keep behaving as a good girl, you'll get dessert tonight."

"I'd rather gouge out my eyes and sew my mouth shut than be an obedient little doll that you can dress however you want and show everyone."

"I'd reconsider it if I were you. The chefs baked a chocolate cake today. With chocolate-covered cherries on top. Have you ever had a chance to eat something like it?" He smiles, almost mischievously, as he stands next to you, still waiting for you to follow his instructions.

"Son of a bitch." You mutter under your breath and he laughs. He must have been drunk. He couldn't be in such a good mood. Not him.

"That's actually very ture, my little wellspring." He says and leads you to a slaughter worse than the Hunger Games... he leads you to a party for the Games. Among the nobility. You shudder just thinking about this nightmare (not because he puts his bigger hand on yours).

"You have a very beautiful dress!" You force a fake smile on your lips when a noblewoman compliments you.

"Thank you." You say, sipping your glass of wine. The only good thing that happened to you at the party was alcohol. And even then, the Darkling tried to limit you to this one pleasure, making sure that you didn't drink too much.

Your head hurt from all the nonsense conversations with all these people who were only famous for being born into rich families. Terrible. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice several tributes also struggling to maintain their composure. At least you weren't the only one.

However, after you turned out to be Grisha, the rest of the tributes tended to avoid you. You knew from the beginning that you wouldn't have any friends among them, but it would be nice to have one friendly soul in this terrible place.

"I didn't think the people of District 12 would fit into our community so well, but you, darling, look absolutely perfect." You barely stop yourself from throwing the glass you're holding at her. Instead, you tighten your grip on him and smile politely at her, gritting your teeth in anger.

"I'm glad I can surprise you."

Fortunately, you don't have to talk to her anymore. The general approaches you quickly, noticing your tenseness, and with his natural grace, he places his hand on your waist, starting a conversation with a woman who turns out to be a close friend of the queen. Oops. It's better that he came to you, because you wouldn't apologise if you accidentally allowed Merzost to break free and turn her into a volcra.

As you stand next to them, as larger crowds of women begin to gather around you, you realize a terrible truth. The Darkling was your only support here. Him and Genya.

You flinch as he suddenly tightens his grip on your waist and guides you away from the group of noblewomen, who giggle as you both walk away. You allow yourself to roll your eyes at them.

"What the hell was that?" He asks you angrily, setting your glass down on the table. You automatically reach for it again, but he grabs your hand before you can take it and keeps it away from the alcohol.

"I was just about to ask you the same fucking thing." You respond in a defiant tone, glaring daggers at him. Your stomach was starting to growl, and the bastard wouldn't let you touch anything to eat until you fulfilled your end of the bargain and behaved yourself. As you and he can see, you didn't do very well.

"Don't grimace around them as if they were pouring salt into your open wounds." He says it angrily and lets go of your hand. He reaches for something from the buffet. You freeze when he hands you a tiny plate with some fruit. You lick your lips, staring at your food for a moment before looking back at him. "It's for avoiding causing a drama. Partly. Try harder, and I'll let you eat whatever you want."

"But that's what they do! Do you have any idea what it's like to have to stand there smiling and nodding your head while these snobs from the capital talk about how your people and the city are octopus and beneath them?!" You hiss so only he can hear it, but you take the plate of food from him anyway. God knows when you'll get something again.

"I'm Grisha. I know exactly what you are going through." You would laugh at him mockingly if you didn't have a mouth full of food. He looks at you disgusted, and you quickly get the hint and eat smaller portions.

"Please. You've been doing fine since the Hunger Games. At least your people don't have to die every year to the delight of a bunch of sadistic idiots with stuffed bras and fake hair." Your comment makes him bite his lip, but he still can't help but smile a little. Few people could make him laugh and laugh at the same time. As you can see, Merzost wasn't the only special thing about you.

However, your hostile look reminds him that you are in the middle of an argument, and it is his turn to present his argument. God, how much work he had to do with you. You will kill him before he can get you safely through the Hunger Games.

"But years ago we were hunted by all of you, and somehow I don't spit on every Ravkan and kill them for it."

"Because you didn't experience it. If you were there, you would act differently." You sound confident. He shakes his head, wondering how you would react to the truth. Although now he seems to be more interested in food than in anything he has to say. He had to finally feed you. His Merzost Holder couldn't go hungry. It's enough that you experienced hunger and poverty in District 12.

"You think?" He asks, setting your empty plate on the table and offering his hand to you. You look at him for a moment, confused by the sudden… change in his attitude.

"General?"

"You can dance, can't you?" He asks, taking your hand, and without waiting for your response, he leads you to the dance floor. The rest of the mentors have no such idea, so you both are closely watched by all the participants in the ball.

"A little." You say shyly, something he's experiencing from you for the first time. He smiles fondly at you, which, of course, you don't see, too embarrassed to look at anything other than your shoes. But others see. The general's small smile does not go unnoticed by his closest soldiers.

"I guess I have to work with that." He says this and gently lifts your chin to look at him. He places a hand on your waist, and the other holds yours in an iron, steady grip. "Eyes on me. Put your hand on my shoulder and try not to fall. Keep up with me, and everything will be fine."

All you can do is trust him, which you do with surprising ease for him. Somehow, he can't take his eyes off you. You looked gorgeous in the black kefta, especially with his symbol embroidered on the back—a little thing you didn't need to know yet. And so, looking at you, Aleksander can't help but wonder what it would be like if he met you under different circumstances. Maybe if he were younger, less experienced... if his mother's words didn't ring so loudly in his head every time he started to feel something akin to tenderness towards you. Maybe if he hadn't lost so many...

Meanwhile, you try to fight the strange feeling he gives you every time his skin touches yours. You feel a strange pull, a calling, and you realise how your power, the same one you tried to ignore and forget for so many years, comes to life under his touch. You hated it. And him. For trying to break down the walls that you put up for so long and so hard. For trying to make you the Grisha you hated. For making it so easy for you to sink into the arms of the Black Heretic ancestor.

And at the same time… it was nice to feel important for a change… even if just for a moment.

So you dance with him, agreeing to this little moment of truce between you two. Deciding that you would look for answers later as to why you felt so attached to him. And why every time he touched you you felt so… powerful.

"That was awful." You groan as you finally return to your chambers, with the Darkling by your side, of course.

He hasn't left you since that dance. He was always somewhere next to you as you talked with the nobility. You have gained several sponsors and the favour of important people in Os Alta. The Darkling was pleased. And you're exhausted.

"And wonderful. You did great, much better than I expected. The servants should bring our dinner soon." He says, sitting next to you on the couch, watching as you take off your kefta and throw it in the corner of the room. He bites his lip, deciding not to comment. He already expected a lot from you today. The manners lesson could have been taught another time.

"Our?" You ask surprised, not expecting him to stay longer than necessary.

"Do you mind?"

"Yes." You answer honestly and straight away, to which he just laughs.

"I wish I cared." He replies with a mischievous smile. You roll your eyes as you take off your shoes and try to pick any pins out of your hair. Genya seemed to enjoy tormenting you. There were definitely too many of them. "So a healer? Really?" He asks, referring to your last conversation. Someone asked you what you wanted to do before you got into The Hunger Games. You decided to answer truthfully once. Of course, you were laughed off and called a sweet, naive soul willing to help. You wanted to vomit on their polished, gold-plated shoes.

"Why not?" You ask angrily. He raises his hands defensively with a smirk, seeing how fed up you are with everything that happened today.

"It's rather… a thankless profession among the common people. Healers usually come to them when they are dying. Relieve suffering. They are the harbinger of death, almost like a reaper. Usually, they are not coming to actually extend their lives."

"So you must have had similar experiences." You scoff, making him think about it. This wasn't what you expected. You were expecting a rather harsh answer. Not a pensive, almost sad look. For a moment, you think that maybe he, too, could just be human. You shake your head. No. He was just one of them. He couldn't have any... human feelings or know the real pain.

"Painful but true. They don't get excited when they see me either." His whisper should make you change the subject, but after the terrible day he put you through, all you want to do is stick a pin in him where it hurts the most.

"I wonder why..." You start, but he cuts you off before you can finish.

"Don't mock. You were behaving so nicely. I prefer you to smile than spit acid."

"I wish I cared." You repeat his words from a while ago, trying to imitate his tone of voice. He rolls his eyes at you, but somehow you both do nothing more than make snide comments to each other. Taking advantage of the relatively quiet moment between you, you decide to ask him honestly. "What do you want from me?"

"To win." He replies simply, playing with the ring on his finger. He rolls it over on his finger, resting his chin on his hand as he looks at you intently. A shiver runs through you as the dark depths of his eyes meet yours. Undeterred by his short, evasive answer, you continue, knowing that this is your only chance to get something from him.

"And then what? You won't let me go back to my district." You say, knowing perfectly well that this is not an option for you. IF you win.

"You are right. You will live here. With Grisha. The people you belong to." You frown, dissatisfied with his answer. You weren't Grisha. You will never be. No matter how much he pushes and forces you to become one of them.

"Unless I die, which is very probably since I am not going to kill anyone on the arena." You remind him. He doesn't seem to take your promise seriously. You don't convince him. He will see for himself in the arena how serious you are about your decision.

"You won't die." He says it firmly, as if it were an obvious fact.

"How can you..."

"YOU WON'T!" He yells at you, standing up. You sit stoically in the same position as before, watching as the shadows in the corner of the room gather around him. He sighs and waves them away. "I've been waiting a long time for you, Y/N. You are the one of your kind and even more precious than a Sun Summoner. I won't see your dead body. No matter how much you want it."

"Leave." You say, too tired to argue with him, to tell him that you have no intention of being an obedient tool in his hands, that you won't be a weapon that he can use.

"That's my palace." Furious at his words, you get up to face him. You look at each other with pure hatred.

You are too tired to notice that a dark mass is beginning to form around your arms. But Aleksander sees it. And he watches with fascination as you let your powers slip through. Out of curiosity, he summons his shadows behind you. Just a small black cloud. However, for some reason, under the influence of your powers, the room is plunged into complete darkness. He looks at you in shock, realising that you had unknowingly empowered him by providing him with energy from Merzost. Unbelievable.

"And my room for a while, so prove to me you can sometimes be the nobel man everyone told me you are and leave me alone." You whisper; all you can see in the dark surrounding you are its irises, analysing you with undisguised fascination and admiration.

If only you trained, if you learned to control what was inside you... Aleksander wouldn't have to take anyone into account; he could just declare himself tsar, threatening the Ravkans to expand the fold if they didn't recognise Grisha's greatness. All he needed was you.

"As you wish." He says, deciding to let you win this fight. He takes your hand and holds it tight as he calls his shadows back to him. They come back in a second. One blink, and the darkness in the room disappears. Impossible. Even his mother didn't have that much control in her glory days. He wondered if you would have this effect only on him or on other Grisha as well. But no. He won't share this secret with anyone. Not yet. For now, you were only his little wellspring of power. "Tomorrow is the first day of your training. 7 A.M. Don't be late, or I will drag you out of your bed by myself." He says, letting go of your hand and walking towards the exit, trying hard not to steal glances at you. He would have to look into his grandfather's journals and old books. You were a real mystery. And he was just waiting to see what more you could do besides complete him perfectly.

"Go to hell." You mutter under your breath, rubbing the hand that was in his iron grip a few moments ago. You felt that stupid electric thrill again. It definitely had to have something to do with your strange connection. Darkling and Merzost Holder. You had to find out more about it. Maybe you need to start being nice to Genya after all...

"Excuse me?" He asks, turning around in the doorway when he hears the insult from you.

"Sleep well." You reply with a sweet, cynical smile. He shakes his head in amusement and decides to ignore your behavior. He'll give you a hard time at training tomorrow. See how far your skills range. With a little training, who knows... maybe you'll be able to bring people back from the dead.

Involuntarily, his thoughts turn to Luda. If he had you by his side earlier… no. He couldn't think about her. He knows that history would have turned out the same way. Because even if you had revealed yourself to him earlier, he would have been too busy with you to see anyone else.

Aleksander promises himself that he will do everything to prevent you from becoming his second Luda. He had enough ghosts of his past tormenting him at night. And you can't become another one of them. If necessary, I will kill these tributes myself. He will find a way. He always did.

Unless someone dares to interfere with his plans... just like last time. That's why, immediately after leaving your chambers, he goes to the only person he knows who will be able to protect you from his greatest enemy.

"Ulla?! Sister?! I have an offer you can't refuse!" He calls from the shore of the lake in the gardens of Little Palace.

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padfootagain · 9 months

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Like Tracing Lines

Hello ! Today, we’re answering an anonymous request for the Darkling : “A Darkling request, please. May I have a Durast artist!reader who's extremely introverted. She just wants to draw in somewhere quite to draw designs, etc. especially she doesn't want anyone to see what she's drawing or who. And it only got worse when the sun summoner came.

You can choose how this goes, as long as it's a happy ending sksksk. I just really want an angst with an eventual happy ending, and I really love your writings Ridjsjsjs”

Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you enjoythe fic I’ve written for you!

I hope you all like this cute piece! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst, hurt/comfort, an awful lot of fluff

Summary: The Darkling has always kept an eye on you, from afar, although he doesn’t admit why. But when the Sun Summoner arrives at the Little Palace, your lonely habits seem to grow exponentially, and he is more and more worried about you.

Word Count: 2074

The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You don’t worry yourself over the time you spend on your own, nor the fact that your self-isolation has increased these days. After all, people are used to it. You’re introverted, possibly too much so. It’s simply reassuring, to be left alone.

The life in the Little Palace can be crowded, sometimes. For someone as introverted as you, it is often too much. You find solace and peace in drawing, though. Mostly designs, sometimes sceneries, even portraits, every once in a while.

It’s soothing. Tracing lines on paper, forcing them to take shape, adding shadows, adding life. It’s therapeutic, at this point.

Everyone at the Little Palace knows that your drawings are off-limits, though. No one has ever been granted the right to look at them. You keep their beauty hidden for your own eyes; not out of selfishness, but simply because you assume that no one would understand them. Not the way you do.

After all, you see the world through the eyes of a Durast, and a talented one at that. You and David work a lot together, mostly because you are both equally talented and curious about everything. But if his world translates mostly through numbers and long silences, yours bubbles out of your fingers and spills into shapes on paper.

But when Alina Starkov arrived at the Little Palace, a little too eager to make friends, she asked about your drawings. And it would have been fine, because she was new, and couldn’t know that you preferred to keep your drawings to yourself. You closed up a lot more when she insisted, though. And when she started to ask you regularly what you were currently drawing you grew quieter than usual, folded yourself back into a pocket-size version of your own self that you could hide away in your bedroom, in the safety of the Fabricator laboratories, or in long walks under the moonlight, when it was too dark for anyone to be awake.

If people did notice – which you doubt, in all fairness – no one spoke a word about it. You reckon that only a handful of Fabricators care about you enough to notice anyway.

You’re mistaken, though. There is someone else who cares, a little too much to his own liking, even. There is someone who has noticed the way you disappear these days, the way you try to look even smaller than before, to look invisible, avoiding to be noticed.

There is someone else who has noticed, and he is worried.

Of course, he has noticed. The Darkling has been away from the Little Palace for a few months now, fighting battles, planning the next phases of the wars. When Alina arrived, obviously, he brought her home, joining back his War Room, the safe halls he had built centuries before. And even if he shouldn’t have rejoiced at the thought of spending time with you again, he did.

There is something about you, he can’t explain it. Something soothing, something quiet, something… good. The type of goodness he once longed to protect, the kind he had spent a long time fighting for; until the weight of time and suffering darkened his soul and blinded him.

He found back some of the brightness of his earlier days in you, though. Something that made him long for something beyond himself, for something he couldn’t have.

Peace. Quiet. A normal life…

You have grown closer over the past few years, you working closely with him as a Fabricator. You are friends, or even, a little more than that, even if none of you care to admit it.

Of course, he noticed the way you fled, even before him. Only a few days after Alina’s arrival, and you were already spending hours locked away in your room, hiding in the library…

He knows too well what it is to hide, and he doesn’t want you to do so. Not to this extent, at least. You seem frightened, these days, and he can’t have that.

He’s built the Little Palace in hopes to banish fear from Grisha’ faces. He can’t bear the sight upon your features…

When you disappear again, right after dinner, he can’t take it anymore. Instead of heading to his room, he follows you, using his shadows to remain unnoticed. Until you’ve settled in an alcove, in a deserted corner of the library. He remains quiet, out of the light of the small candle you’ve brought along, and he watches you as you take a sketchbook and a pencil out of your pocket. You’ll be drawing, perhaps the moon, the stars, the trees beyond the window against which you’re resting your shoulder now. Perhaps some new idea plaguing your mind. He catches himself before he can hope that you could think of him…

He lets his shadows vanish, slowly, he calls back the darkness to make himself visible. He purposefully drags his feet over the stones to make a little noise, as to not surprise you too much. You freeze as you hear the noise, slowly turn to him.

And he shouldn’t think about the way the light plays with your eyelashes, the way the warm golden light of the candle mingles with the silvery one of the moon to bathe your features in a perfect light. He shouldn’t think, then, about how beautiful you are. About the way he longs to reach out. About how he doesn’t feel so lonely, now that your gaze has caught his. He shouldn’t think about the way you visibly relax as you recognize him. He shouldn’t hope that you like seeing him, here, by your side. He shouldn’t long for it.

And yet, there he is…

“Good evening, Y/N.”

His voice is low, cold, a tone unreadable. As usual. You grin.

“Good evening, sir.”

He chuckles, looks up at you.

“There’s no one else, Y/N.”

He notices the way your breath catches before you speak, but doesn’t acknowledge it. He’s too old to claim such details as victories.

“Good evening, Aleksander.”

You share a smile, the kind brighter than the ones he gives everybody else but you.

He walks closer again, standing by the wall without leaning against it, facing you.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you ask him, closing your sketchbook in a hurry.

But he wasn’t looking at it. He knows better than that.

“You could answer my questions.”

You raise an eyebrow in surprise, but let him continue.

He crosses his arms before his chest.

“Why are you hiding this way?”

You avert your eyes, fiddling with your pencil.

“I’m not hiding more than usual. You know me. I enjoy being on my own.”

“But you usually spend less time alone. Is there something wrong?”

His voice grows concerned, even if it is tainted with its usual coldness, the one that usually makes his emotions unrecognisable. He allows himself to let just a speck of his armour down with you though, just enough to let you guess that his worry is genuine.

You shrug, but his stare is heavy on your frame, making you bend your head and shoulders, and you can’t hold back when he’s like this: presence too strong, almost unbearable…

“I… I’m quite bothered by Alina Starkov.”

He frowns, seemingly puzzled.

“Am I asking too much from you? Are you and David too pressured?”

“No, no, no! That’s not it! It is simply… it’s stupid.”

You’re surprised when he walks closer, and even more so when he reaches for your chin, a tender hold between his thumb and his index finger. You don’t resist when he guides your head upwards, making you look at him, irises as dark as his shadows…

“What is it, Y/N? You can tell me. I’ll take care of it.”

There is something threatening in his voice, a tremor that’s never there when he speaks to you. But he doesn’t speak of you, then. He speaks of what he will do to whoever dares to hurt you…

You smile.

“It’s truly nothing. I’m just… being extra-shy.”

You heave a sigh, but Aleksander doesn’t have to encourage you again, you continue on your own.

“Alina is asking about my drawings. A lot. Too much. She doesn’t seem to understand the word ‘no’.”

You give him a humorous smile, but you seem too fragile for it to be genuine.

He nods, a small frown creasing his brow.

“I will talk to her,” he says, but you shake your head.

“It’s nothing. I’m sure she doesn’t even mean any harm. I’m just… It’s personal, you see. Maybe it’s silly, but it’s like… having someone read your diary or… your mind even. If it makes sense. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

You expect a harsh answer, you don’t know why. Because Aleksander has never been harsh with you. On the contrary, if his tone is always cold, he’s never said anything mean or hurtful to you. His voice is often a little lower, you like to believe it’s even a little warmer… but then again, you like to long for unreachable things.

You’re oblivious to the fact that his voice is warmer when he speaks to you.

The harsh answer doesn’t come. Instead, his fingers slide from your chin to your jaw, up to cup your cheek. His thumb is tender as it strokes your skin. There is a rush of power coursing through your vein because of his amplifying qualities, but you barely notice it, the feeling hidden by your pounding heart and the intensity of his stare.

No matter the butterflies in your stomach, or the rush of your heart, it still feels reassuring, his feathery touch across your cheek. Soothing. Almost like tracing lines on a page.

When Aleksander speaks again, you’ve never heard his voice so soft.

“It is not silly. We all have our secrets, and our own ways to deal with our demons. I will talk to Alina, make sure she does not bother you again. I want you to feel safe in these halls. I do not want you to feel like you need to hide, not here. Not when you are under my protection. Do you understand?”

You nod, although you’re not sure to understand. Not the full extent of his words, at least.

You’re disappointed when his touch disappears, his fingers slowly slipping down the length of your cheek, the pads hanging at your jawline a moment longer, but he reluctantly pulls away, eventually.

“You should rest,” he goes on, his voice colder again, his tone difficult to read, back to its usual mysteries.

You nod, and he turns to leave. You don’t know what comes over you when you call for him again.

“Aleksander!”

He stops, slowly turns to you. There is something puzzled in his frown.

You have no idea where the strength is coming from, but you speak the words anyway.

“Would you like to take a walk? With… with me?”

His puzzle frown turns into a surprised raise of his eyebrow.

“Now?” he asks, and there’s something almost amused in the way the corner of his mouth curves upwards, just a little bit.

“I mean… unless it is too late…”

You fall silent, and he adores seeing you this nervous. It’s endearing.

He shouldn’t let you in so easily. But then again, you look lovely, under the lights of the candle and the moon, and he longs to touch your skin again, no matter the excuse that would allow the contact.

He offers you his open hand.

“Shall we?”

The grin you give him is brighter than any light Alina could ever summon.

And he knows that he is making a mistake as soon as your fingers brush his palm. He knows he is making his own life immensely more complicated that it ought to be by letting you in. He should be focused on seducing Alina Starkov, on looking for the Stag, on planning his wars, on planning his next move against the king.

But then again, your hand is warm against his cold one. Your skin is smooth, your touch reassuring, and you make his heart skip a beat, in a way it hasn’t jumped for decades, maybe even for centuries.

Perhaps, just this once, just for tonight… just for you, he could make his life a little more complicated. Perhaps, just for this once, he could make himself a little weaker, a little more vulnerable… just for you.

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Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

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

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writerloversjm · 1 year

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Corrosive Jealousy

Darkling x Fem!Reader

A/N: Inspired by the events of Shadow and Bone S1

Summary: You know it's all part of a bigger plan, but you can't help but feel jealous every time he sees the approach between Aleksander and Alina. It gets to the point where even you can't take it anymore.

Warnings: Y/n is a Healer, Jealousy, anguish, mention drunk, canonical level violence, blood, bad thoughts, anger, mention of injuries, poisoning, Merzost.

Count: 3,1k

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You shouldn't be jealous of a Sun Summoner girl.

You knew you would never be more to him than a Healer while she was Ravka's salvation.

You also couldn't help the bitter taste rising in your throat every time you saw Alina and your general together.

How could? You never expected to be replaced after 150 years of working and living with Aleksander, let alone a pathetic, naive girl like her.

You saw how he was beside himself with excitement when he arrived with the Summuner, at first you wondered if it was just that the girl was what he had been waiting for, or something more. It didn't take long for you to have your answer.

“Did you call me General?” You asked, slowly opening the door, already predicting what you would find.

Aleksander was in his armchair without Kefta and with his shirt open, Alina was between his legs, trying to fix a deep cut. You would laugh if you weren't worried. You hated your stupid feelings.

His blood boiled. His heart bled. "I was healing a boy with a broken leg, remember that the next time you take me out of my job for nothing General, please" the two looked in their direction but only found a closed door. Ivan, who was at the door, said nothing before his furious look and his heavy steps moving away.

When you got back to the infirmary, Feydor was already done with the boy's leg in its place. You felt even more irritated. "Why don't you go get some air in the library Y/n?"

You, of course, understood Feydor's suggestion as get out of here before you explode. You nodded, calming your pounding heart. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I can cover for you for a few hours” your friend replied, you let out a sigh, feeling pathetic for letting yourself succumb to feelings after so many years. “And try not to have a heart attack, your heart is not so young anymore”

You laughed at his teasing as you left, the healers closest to you always unconditionally reminded that for all Ghisha, you had joined the Second Army a few years before General Kirigan's father died.

The library was silent when you arrived, not even the librarian was there. And by trade you entered the farthest hall. At the end of the hall was an inconspicuous door, made of Grisha steel, with a room filled with only books on romance, fantasy, and subjects you liked. It was made for you a long time ago.

You entered taking the last book you were reading and sat in your armchair to read and distract yourself.

You woke up to the sound of the door opening. It took her sleepy brain to recognize the tall figure that entered, but as soon as it did, her mood plummeted. "What are you doing here?"

“Were you here all night?” His relieved tone put you on edge. Something had happened. You nodded, closing the book that was in your lap and placing it on the side table. Her neck ached. "What happened?"

"Some Shu were seen circling Os Alta, you were gone all day Y/n, and everyone knows how you like to walk around the city" he said leaning against a bookshelf, did you notice how his skin seemed to be covered by a thin layer of sweat. "I'm sorry but I'm still here"

“Stop being an idiot Y/n, everyone was worried” Aleksander said and you did in a dismissive sound. All. All. But and you? You folded the blanket from your lap and stood up. “Have a good time Aleksander”

“Y/n...” as you walked past him, you heard his erratic heartbeat and the way everything seemed to be working slowly in his body. And it wasn't just that the Merzost that coursed through her veins and hindered her healing process like most of the time. “Y/n”

You knew he wanted to say something by his tone, but you didn't want to listen, you needed some time for yourself and distance from him, and all the feelings that were making you sick. "Go take a cold shower and relax, I'll stop by your room to heal you Aleksander."

You left the library quickly, going quickly to your room. You didn't stop to hear how happy and relieved everyone was that you were okay, you were too busy in your mind to pay attention to that. Alina appeared in front of her and you hurried past her. “Do you know where General Kirigan is?”

You entered her room – one that you hadn't used a while ago – and she followed you. You opened your briefcase with medicines and antidotes. Alina approached you. “I know Alina, and I need distance”

"Where is he?" Her demanding nature reminded you of a spoiled princess you once knew. You took what you needed to get the Darkling's venom out and left again, completely ignoring Alina. She followed you. “Could you not answer me?!”

“Alina, why don’t you go find something to do and let me do my job?” You were running hurriedly through the halls, with an annoying shadow behind you. “Y/n do I need to know where he is?”

“Not Alina, you want to know, and unlike everyone else, I don't give you everything you want. Now stop following me and get out of here.”

Ivan opened the door for you the moment you stopped in front of the door, which closed in Alina's face. “Did he get worse?”

“Do you take care of him? I'll bring David and Genya” he said leaving the war room and you locked the door. You entered Aleksander's room, Feydor was trying to take care of him, but apparently the poison was making him delirious.

“You can't summon General now, it will only spread more poison” his voice interrupted a series of meaningless words and Feydor looked at you in relief. “Y/n, thanks to the Saints, I'm trying to bring his fever down, but his body is too slow”

“Let me do it, can you start arranging the antidote dosages?” You asked and Feydor nodded, stepping away from the dying man. You approached Aleksander. “How are you feeling General?”

“It's cold, the clothes are itchy, and I want candy” you chuckled at his pitiful state. She didn't have to touch his skin to feel his fever. "I don't want that tomato near me"

“Are you going to be difficult today in?!” You joked to distract him. You made sure Feydor wasn't looking and summoned Merzost. You would never have lived so long without it.

When your fingertips turned dark you manipulated the Little Science to cure Aleksander, just enough to put him to sleep, you still needed to know how that poison got into him, and only David and Genya would know that. “Goodnight y/n”

“Good night Sasha”

“Why after healing the General does it always look like a carriage ran over you?” Genya asked as she made her dark circles disappear. “The poison was leaving serious sequelae, I had to work all night”

Her response was vague and she didn't question it. But the truth is, Merzost takes a toll, and refuses to be healed. You had to give yourself a lot to heal Aleksander. But you would do it a thousand times if you had to.

You just hated the doubts that roamed your mind. There was a time when you were sure what he would do for you, today you are not so sure anymore.

After she finished making you presentable, you tucked the gloves into your hands and headed out into the day, even though walking through the cafeteria made your stomach do somersaults and your head hasn't stopped hurting since you woke up.

“Where is Ivan or Feydor?” You asked one of the men guarding the Darkling's door. “Not arrived yet”

You nodded and left, just then you saw the time. Of course you knew it was early, but you were surprised at how early it was, it was barely dawn. You felt bad for making Genya wake up so early.

The quiet morning gave way to a noisy afternoon, and you were barely enduring your migraine when one of the General's men warned you that you were being summoned.

You felt like you were in déjà vu. “Did you call me General?” You asked, opening the door slowly, not knowing what you would find.

Aleksander was in his armchair without his Kefta and his shirt open, Alina was between his legs, trying to examine the cut on his shoulder. She completely ignored her, in fact she seemed to be in another world. You took a deep breath.

"My shoulder is killing me Milaya" Aleksander said with a murmur, but he broke into a huge smile when he saw you, which you couldn't help but reciprocate. You knew the antidote was working, you just didn't think it would get so soft. "Lucky for you it's just the shoulders, a few hours ago it was the whole body"

"Why the gloves?" Alina asked moving away from Aleksander, you took her place to see the stitches. You rolled your eyes. "I know you don't like her, but you could at least disguise your dislike for her, she's important!"

You gave a bitter laugh as you started to heal him again. Who knew that even knocked down by a dose of medicine Aleksander Mozorova still managed to hurt you. "I rolled my eyes at your idiocy in preferring stitches over a quick heal, Alina was just your victim"

“He's pretty doped up now, isn't he?” Feydor questioned entering the war room joining Alina, immediately Aleksander threw him a withering look. “You will not steal my woman Feydor”

“General are you having an allergic reaction?” You knew it would, but it wasn't serious enough to worry, so you could have fun. It masked the aching thud of his heart with his words. He ignored you and tried to get up. "What do you think you are doing?"

“Going to teach Feydor what happens when he looks at my woman like that” he was actually furious in his somewhat questionable state of mental equilibrium. You stopped healing him to place your hands on his chest and stop him. “I'm sure he loves Ivan too much to look at Alina the way he's thinking, you'll just stand there sir.”

His heart stopped for a second as he realized what he had admitted, it was a great relief to his soul nonetheless. You just went back to healing Aleksander's shoulder, looking only at the wound now.

“Stop being such an idiot Y/n, I don't care how he looks at Alina, I don't want him looking at you like that” You ignored every word he said in your state, avoiding the disappointments that would come as the medicine wears off. A tear trickled down his face. You finished healing him in silence and the moment you finished, you practically ran out of the room.

Hot tears made a path down his face.

You'd spent the last three weeks willfully ignoring Feydor, Ivan, Genya or anyone else who could and would report you to General Kirigan, you'd gotten good at it. But now you had no way out. It was the Yule Ball, and you loved it. Not showing up today would be doubly suspicious.

You grimaced as a servant pulled your hair into an elaborate bun. “I hate men, why are they so complicated?!”

“Women are not easier” the servant who was fixing you commented, looking at the one who was fixing your dress.

And okay, after you got some alone time to analyze your feelings and the circumstances, you came to the conclusion that Alina wasn't so bad. You knew about your husband's plan, and you had allowed it, only her feelings got out of control with the amount of time spent with the girl, her old ones start to take root in your head again and all the circumstances made you react badly. Alina was scared and clung to the first people who showed support and understanding, like a scared child.

But you were still very angry, especially with Aleksander, and you had no intention of forgiving him so soon. You were mad at Alina for the jealousy you still felt, and mad at yourself for acting like a freaking bitch; but for one night everything could have a truce.

“That's why book characters are better,” you said, getting up after they were done with your face and hair.

Someone knocked on your door, and you saw when they delivered a box, you already imagined what was inside and you weren't quite willing to use it. “Help me with the dress please”

Some of Ravka's most powerful Ghisha, as well as nobles and the royal family would be in this year's Fate, security would be more than doubled, there was no reason for you to use a Kefta.

Your maids helped you into your heavy dress and high-heeled sandals. After the fight against the fabric you could finally see yourself in the mirror.

For an instant you were reminded of the dresses you'd worn when you were a young Ghisha, smells of skirts and layers, with gems and tulle. In fact, you could just as easily have been dressing for a ball back then in her red tiered gown, with embroidered silver tulle.

Just their colors, no rings, no wedding symbols. Just Y/n and her eternally youthful looks. You felt beautiful and desirable. You would think that time had not passed if not for your hands.

They hadn't yet recovered from the use of Merzost, and from his fingers to the middle of his forearms they were streaked black, a stain that wouldn't go away for nothing. “Your Gloves”

You said thank you by reaching out to put them on and then you were done. Someone knocked on your door and before you could even think, the servant was already opening the door.

Aleksander came in in all his glory, his Kefta looked even blacker, all the light seemed to flee from him, his beard was clean and a slight smile graced his face. You knew that not even the Saints would be as beautiful as he was, but today it was hard to even look at it for very long.

Even if it wasn't for you. The servants left and you were alone with him. You saw that immediately when his gaze met you a crease formed in his forehead, showing displeasure. “You are not using your Kefta”

“I can't get through if you keep ahead of me” even the slowest of men would know that this is a sure sign that a woman doesn't want to talk to him, but *age must be getting to him* you thought how much he continued in front of you. "What do you want?"

“Stop being childish Y/n” his tone was scolding and you were already fed up. “Have you come to give me directions on how not to ruin your perfect night with Alina? Don't worry I promise it will be easy for you to forget I'm there, and by the way, please never pass your kids that notebook you pull the best quotes from to make me feel like shit.”

Aleksander looked at you in panic, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. You pushed him out of the way and left the room.

You had no idea how you ended up in that situation. One moment you were drunk and leaving the ball to spend time in your library, and now you felt your blood trickling down your gaping throat with an ugly wound.

You could have healed earlier, but the shock of fright and the alcohol made you lose precious minutes and now you didn't even have the strength to raise your hands.

The hallway you were in wasn't the most used, and the situation only gets worse because I don't move at all with everyone having fun at the ball. You never imagined that you would die alone, but perhaps it was a punishment for having become so bitter.

When the familiar darkness opened around you, all that was left was to close your eyes and accept your fate.

“It's going to be a slow recovery, she's going to be fine” your head ached at the sound of the voice, which although familiar you couldn't place. "I'll be back in an hour, if anything happens before then call me General"

You felt your throat extremely dry, and tremors of weakness in your body, and cold as if not all the blankets of the earth could warm you. His only source of heat was in the palm of his hand. But you couldn't open your eyes.

“Forgive me milaya, I should have realized how bad I was doing you, how I was hurting you, I should have been with you, be on your side, this would never have happened if I wasn't being a selfish bastard, it's my fault, please forgive me...” You recognized that voice, and your head didn't ache, but the inconsistency soon took over again.

The next time you woke up, there seemed to be an argument going on. You couldn't keep up with everything, your head was too heavy. You thanked the Saints when you blacked out again.

And then the next time you woke up your eyes opened to complete darkness. You immediately identified where you were, not only by the contours of familiar furniture or all the black walls but mainly by the quiet breathing behind you. “Aleksandr?”

The movement behind you was immediate, soon he was leaning over you, checking if it was you and then he got out of bed quickly and got a glass of water. He helped you lift your head to drink. You pulled away after your partnered throat better. You sighed, and tried to put into words everything you felt. "I am tired"

“I'm so sorry milaya” his words were also loaded with meaning and promise, but the doubts that had been creeping into your mind made you skeptical. He saw it. “I promise you that I will spend every remaining day of our lives making up for everything bad I made you feel, every doubt, bitterness, sadness, everything.”

“Can I go back to sleep in my bed?” You asked shyly, you saw his eyes fill with tears before he leaned his forehead against yours. His tear trickled down her cheek. “Of course you can my love”

“I think this is a good start, but I'm still mad at you” you said feeling the weakness hit again and he chuckled softly, then he settled you on the pillows, and lay down next to you, hugging your body with his arms. Careful. “I will earn my forgiveness milaya”

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#imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander x reader #jealousy #shadow summoner #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #general kirigan #merzost

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thebigsl33p · 3 months

Text

Last Words of A Shooting Star (Part One)

A/N: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and this is only part one. A lot of love has gone into this, I'm super excited to share it! If there any mistakes or stuff please let me know. Uh, Aleksander's kinda OOC bcs it's early days and I'm not traumatising him yet but I am gonna make everyone so miserable in Part Two, I promise, and then he'll become a mardy bastard. Masterlist will be up with the second part, and my main will be updated.

Main Masterlist

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries

Warnings: Violence - murder, not too graphic, I don't think. I think that's all, if not please let me know. tbf, canon level I think but maybe I'm delusional

Word Count: 8260

Fic Playlist:

Aleksander has always had a fascination with the night sky. He can’t help it. It’s the darkness, he thinks, it runs in his blood and makes up his flesh, how couldn’t he be absolutely enamoured with it?

Maybe it’s because it was the only constant.

So much of his childhood, his years as a teenager and as a young adult were spent travelling, creating new identities, learning new landscapes, new faces, new names, new buildings, all of which would disappear and be replaced every two weeks. And sure, the daytime was nice with the sun and all. But it wasn’t as peaceful, didn’t bring him that same tranquillity as when he would lay down in a field, gaze up and try to name all the constellations, find new shapes and make up new stories.

Perhaps it all changed due to the incident at the Grisha camp. He had loved sunlight, the dark had scared him. But now, something was different - that air of peace was replaced by a penchant for the tenebrosity that the night brought with it, and a love for the small lights which decorated the dusk.

No matter where he went, whether he was North, East, South, or West, the night-sky was the same. Always that deep monumental blue speckled with little dots - little lights, little moons, little stories - which people like him called Stars. There was nothing quite like laying in a field, feeling the cool summer breeze or the biting winter gusts and knowing that you were so small, so insignificant compared to everything that burned up in the cosmos.

He was young then. Young and naive. And it was before her.

Looking back on it, Aleksander should’ve known better. Hadn’t the incident at the Grisha Camp taught him that? Wasn’t it what his mother drilled into him constantly? Trust no one. Never show your abilities. Touch no one. He was, politely put, a fool.

He was a young man when his life changed, for the better and for the worse. It’s hard to remember exactly, but he believes he was around nineteen, and he remembers it was a hot summer’s evening. The day had been spent working. He couldn’t have known then, but that ‘work’ was the beginnings of The Little Palace. But back then, it was him being - as his mother would put it - foolish, and helping other Grisha travel across Ravka. They were hard to find, and even harder to trust, but gradually, slowly yet surely, he was building a good network.

But during the nights, just for a little while he could let that go. He could lay in the tall grass, head tipped towards the dark vast sky and he could stare up at the stars and pretend he was normal, that shadows weren’t absentmindedly curling around his fingers.

For some reason he struggles to remember memories before that time. They’re blurry and vague, little snippets and days that he’s lost with his extended age. But that particular night, he remembers it vividly - his long hair brushing his cheek in the wind, the hard dirt under his head, the hum of nature and bugs, the bustle of a town not so far away carried on the wind, and the stars. They were the brightest he’d ever seen them, almost restless, buzzing in their eternal placeholders. Something, he could feel, was wrong.

The image of the star falling to Earth is eternally seared into his memory.

It appeared faster than he could comprehend - one second it wasn’t there, and then one second it was. He sits up on his elbows, completely transfixed and stunned by, what he at first presumes, is a shooting star. But gradually, he realises it’s getting bigger, faster… closer.

This burning bright ball of cream yellow light, tumbling through time and space and existence, tumbling towards him. Sitting there in the field, stunned by the sight, he’s sure he can hear it fizzling and crackling, knows it’s completely impossible from this distance, but he’s certain of it. Something tugs in his chest, somewhere between unbridled intrigue and panic, his mother’s words of warning echoing in his head. The intrigue wins, it’s an easy internal battle of common sense and childlike wonder which he thought he had long abandoned.

Aleksander scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting dirt on his palms and his trousers but he barely notices, head still tilted to the sky and his breath caught in his throat. He can see the trajectory of the star, where it will land in a section of the forest just a bit off from where he’s camping out. His eyes widen, a small smile, and before he knows it he’s stepping towards the tree-line, his black boots thudding on the ground as his footsteps get quicker and quicker.

To anyone else, the forest might’ve seemed daunting, especially so late at night. But the Shadow Summoner stepped into it without hesitation, the wizened terrain underfoot switching to a softer crunch of twigs and leaves. Once inside, he loses sight of the star, the canopy of the forest shielding it from him, its only indication being the unnatural light it shines through the leaves onto the forest floor, making his journey easier. He dodges twigs, branches, spider-webs, ducking and batting them out of the way quickly, balancing looking at the floor and where he’s going with gazing up at the foliage covered sky for any indication he’s travelling the right way.

He doesn’t know why he’s following after the star. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a star. It feels more akin to when you’re in a dream, and you just know something is. Something about it compels him, drags him forward and pushes him on, deeper into the forest.

When the star makes impact, he feels it. In fact, Aleksander’s sure the entire world might’ve felt it, the shake in the trees and the ground, the birds disturbed from their midnight peace quickly fleeing their homes at the rattle of the branches and leaves, the dust-like dirt stirring. And it guides him to the star - the cracking noise it made as it hit the ground unmistakably came from a fraction to his left and so, he followed that way.

He knows he’s getting closer when the damage becomes more destructive. It’s no longer just disturbed birds and dirt, it’s entire trees tilted at an angle as if God had pushed a finger into the dirt and tilted them, their roots peeking through the soil. But in the middle of the makeshift clearing it is dark, the disturbed dirt floating and drifting through the air and concealing his surroundings. The ground is severely dented and compacted, forming a large dark crater which Aleksander can barely peek over.

He shuffles from the damaged treeline, his boots creaking on the soil as he tries to catch a glimpse over the edge of the vast crater, but it’s wide and deep, and the edges are loose. He’s careful, his Shadows waiting obediently for his hands to move - for some form of attack or defence. But it never comes.

Instead, as the clouds of dirt clear, the centre of the crater gradually became more visible. The middle was, overall, smooth but it slopes and nicks here and there. He had expected to see a rock, some large grey bland thing which ultimately would’ve made this all less exciting. But what he sees instead has his eyes widening. There, in the middle of the crater, is a young woman. She’s asleep - passed out maybe - her arms loosely stretched outwards, her hair splayed, messy and white. It’s not even like he can say it’s grey, or silver, or blonde. No, her hair is white, paper white, as white as the dress she’s wearing. It fits her well, skims over her body without constricting too much movement. He notices she has no shoes on. It dawns on him that this sleeping woman, this girl, is the Star and his brow furrows softly.

He barely hesitates before he’s sitting on the ledge of the crater and sliding down it, his boots landing on the compacted soil with a thud. In a few strides he’s standing over the sleeping girl, and then in another quick action he crouches down and picks her up, the back of her knees bent over his arm, her waist in his other as he supports her back and her head lolls. He huffs in soft amusement, and walks back the way he came, gently hoisting her up the wall of the crater with as much care as he can, using his shadows when he has a spare hand. It’s hard, and takes a bit of manoeuvring, but he gets there eventually before he pulls himself up. It’s a surprise to him that she hasn’t woken up yet.

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there like that, asleep, vulnerable and barefoot where anyone could’ve found her and not have known what they had stumbled on. He picks her up again, and begins his journey back through the forest, a little slower and with a little more care, mumbling to himself - to her - as they go. She doesn’t stir once, her head propped against his chest, her hair tickling his arm slightly.

The journey back to where he was camping out is peaceful. It’s quiet, save for his footsteps or the rustle of clothes. Occasionally, the moonlight catches her and she sparkles a bit. Literally sparkles, reflects it like a goddamn mirror. It really is a sight to see and it makes his lips quirk up a bit.

When they get back to the field, he’s careful. Aleksander lays her down on his mat, adds a few more logs to the fire and covers her with his coat. He thinks of checking her for injuries or damage, but decides that can wait until she wakes up. He doesn’t want to be a creep, and if she’s in pain she’s probably better off telling him when she wakes up, than him finding out for himself.

And so, he settles himself on the other side of the campfire. He leans his head on his pack - considering the girl next to him has his mat - and tries to get what little sleep will come.

When Y/N wakes, it’s in unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she’s aware of is the cold. It’s not freezing, but it’s uncomfortable, and she tucks her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, tugging the blanket under her chin. Blanket? No. She shouldn’t have a blanket. It shouldn’t be cold…

She sits up fast and quick, all lethargy gone from her body as her eyes widen and she takes in her surroundings. She’s in a field. On a mat. And someone’s dark, large coat is over her body. It’s early morning, the sky a pale grey, a low mist settling on her surroundings and a light dew coating the grass. She can feel heat on one side of her, but her head is turned towards the foggy treeline. She tries to recall the last things she remembers… being in the sky, existing, and then a sudden gap which she can’t figure out, and then she wakes up here.

She’s caught in thought, trying to make sense of her surroundings when a voice says, “You’re awake.” and her head whips around. On the other side of a fresh campfire is a young man, dark eyes, long dark hair, pale skin and dark clothes. He’s roasting a rabbit over the fire - no doubt freshly caught from the knife that sits beside him. His pack sits beside him, his eyes never leave her, even as she expresses soft panic.

She tries to get up, but her body aches, and he holds out a hand, “Easy. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asks softly, waving to her to relax.

She answers hesitantly, her eyes scanning the boy, “Y/N.” she says eventually, “You?”

“Leonid.” Aleksander lies, looking between the campfire and her, “Are you hurt anywhere? You took… quite the fall.”

“Funny.” Y/N says drily, “How long have you been working on that one?”

From the grin that splits his face, he’s clearly secretly pleased with his dad-joke, “Just this morning.” Leonid - Aleksander - turns a bit more serious, “Are you, though? Hurt?”

She shakes her head, kicking the coat off her and putting it to one side so she can sit up properly, “No, I’m fine.” she mumbles, “Just achy.”

“Mhm, I suppose that’s to be expected.” he holds the cooked rabbit out to her on a makeshift fork, “Here, eat. You’ll need it.”

Y/N takes it hesitantly, sniffing it before picking a bit of meat off it with her fingers and eating it, “Thanks… who are you?”

“Leonid.” He repeats.

“No, I meant like - where am I? Who are you - like - how did you find me?”

“Well,” he leans back on his elbows, glances around, “You’re in a field, near Vernost, in Ravka.” he says, “and I am…” his brow furrows softly as he figures out how to phrase this. She’s a Star - would she even understand the difference between Grisha and Otkazats’ya?

He says it anyway.

“As I said, my name’s Leonid, I’m…” he’s hesitant - would a star really have prejudices? He hopes not. He takes a foolish chance. “Grisha. You know what that is?”

She nods, offers him what remains of the Rabbit. He waves it off, indicating that she finishes it. “Why are you helping me?” She asks, tilting her head.

“My, you’re just full of questions.” he sighs, “I saw you fall. I wasn’t just gonna… leave you.”

“Right.” Y/N’s eyes narrow slightly, “is this your coat? Here you can have it back.” she nudges the coat towards him.

He gives her an amused look, his eyes moving down, then back up, “I think you’ll need it more than me, zvezda.” he muses, smug almost.

She glances down at the dress she’s wearing. It’s simple, plain, and he’s right. It’s too thin for the current weather - she’ll be better off as it warms up during the day - but for now, she accepts the coat with a small, amused huff.

"C'mon, eat that fast," he says, indicating to the rabbit, "We've gotta get going before the sun is too high." He's already tucking away the few things he got out, "I'm gonna walk you to the nearest town, Vernost, leave you somewhere safe, okay?" he glances at her, "Get you some shoes and some more suitable clothes. Until then…”

He reaches into his pack, produces a spare undershirt and hands it to her with an almost apologetic look, "Better than nothing." she nods in thanks.

She takes the shirt with a grateful nod. Once she's finished the rabbit, she stands and hands him the mat, watching as he rolls it up and tucks that away too, and then they're set to travel. She pulls on the undershirt over her dress and while it hangs loosely it provides a bit more comfort, and then she shuffles on his coat. It’s too big for her, completely contrasts her bright eyes and white hair, the sleeves hang loosely and she has to roll them up.

He wants to make her as comfortable as possible, and so shows her the map he’s using, highlights the path they’ll be travelling with his finger, showing their way through the woods, worries a bit over her lack of shoes and then they’re walking.

The path to the town is simple, through the woods, past her crater, and then a little further for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s careful to go first, his harsh boots making some attempt at flattening the ground for her barefoot condition. Aleksander considers picking her up - no, too weird for someone he’s just met - and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain.

They keep walking. The sun rises higher, the morning beginning just as they make their way into Vernost. It’s a small town, but a good town. The hustle and bustle of people, farmers, artisans, builders and blacksmiths is accompanied by the gentle murmur of the small local market, travellers and locals who move between stalls and shops, horses’ hooves on the cobblestone, the crowd parting for an occasional rickety wooden carriage.

He glances over to her. The look of awe on her face is somewhere between sad and endearing. She’s struck completely by this tiny town, the smallest, simplest form of inhabitance, and yet it brings nothing but awe and wonder to her gaze. There’s a sense of yearning in the way her eyes run over everything as they walk, as if she’s desperate to take it all in, to retain it, keep it held to her chest - to make life hers. To have all of it - to know the joys and the sorrows like the back of her hand. Aleksander could practically see the light come to life behind her eyes, as if she’d finally woken up to something wonderful.

He smiles, somewhere between amusement and appreciation, and places a hand on her shoulder to steer her through the crowds which are slowly getting busier, “Easy tiger.” he says and she laughs sheepishly.

“It’s just all so…” she doesn’t know how to describe it, the words to explain the way her heart is racing all jam up in her throat. She has a heart. The rushing of blood, just the wind against her skin, it’s all she ever wanted to feel, and now that she can feel it, now she’s no longer confined to the night sky, she’s in complete and utter astonishment, raptured by everything around her.

“Kinda overwhelming?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow as they walk. He’s keeping an eye out for a Cobbler - or anywhere that sells shoes, really. Again, he casts his eyes down to her bare feet and feels guilt and concern rise in him, that the streets of Vernost, nor the woods are exactly clean, and they must be hurting by now.

But one glance at her face and he can tell she barely feels it. It’s just dirt - it can be washed off. However, it doesn’t ease the guilt.

The first time she ‘shines’, is over a piece of cake.

They’d been travelling together for a few weeks now. Aleksander was a fool to think he could leave her alone in Vernost, his worries, concerns and guilt over the Star getting the better of him. They stayed for a few days there, giving her a general introduction to the workings of human life in a contained and somewhat non-threatening environment.

In their few brief days in Vernost she tries a range of food, stews, desserts. He explains money, the current politics of the country over a bowl of stew from the Inn they were staying at, explains the prejudices and segregation of Grisha, the violence. They get her clothing, a shirt, an overvest, trousers and boots, and a small bag to carry her non-existent belongings. She folds her dress into it for the first few days - that silky silver material which catches in the moonlight - and it fits surprisingly well, tucks into the corner of the satchel. He explains to her how to read the map, all the different little symbols. In some ways, she’s like a child. Her lack of general knowledge about the world is understandable, but she catches on fast, much faster than anyone else could’ve.

Well, they’d been travelling together for a few weeks, developing a relationship that might even be called friendship. Aleksander had to make a few adjustments to the way he travelled - he was still telling Y/N his name was Leonid - occasionally they travelled at night. Honestly, it made more sense, he felt more comfortable in the darkness, and she had more energy. But it also made them bigger targets for suspicion, people travelling at night were often suspected of Grisha related activity… which is exactly what he was doing. She was just along for the ride, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get dragged into his problems and potentially harmed. Conflicting morals, he knows.

They’d passed through a few villages on their travels, small places which minded their own business and were good for occasional stock ups on food, water, supplies.

He doesn’t know why he bought the slice of cake. Aleksander had decided it was good for her to develop her own independence, and so she had gone to make her own way around this small town they’d stopped in. Meanwhile, he perused the sparse shops for anything of use.

The slices of cake were sitting in the shop window, all of them uniform in their cream decoration and the small slices of strawberries which sat inside and on top of the layers of sponge, and all of them placed delicately on little porcelain dishes. He enters the shop without thinking, purchases a slice to take away, lets the person wrap it away in a small tissue and carefully takes it, slipping it into a safe part of his own bag. He’s careful for the rest of the day in the way he moves - making sure not to squash or compromise the baked good. He can’t quite wrap his mind - nor his heart - around why he’s done it. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to buy her a slice of cake of all things. But he’s glad he did. Aleksander hopes she’ll like it.

He presents it to her over their campfire for the evening. It’s a small thing made of dried grass and twigs or any larger pieces of wood they could find but it provides light and heat and that’s enough. They’re sitting either side of it, across from one another, having just eaten bread and cheese for dinner. Twilight is setting in the sky, and he can see it on her - the way her eyes are slightly brighter, her laugh slightly more mellow as they chat over their food.

He reaches into his bag by his side, clears his throat and says, “I got you something.”

Y/N’s brow furrows softly, and she tilts her head as he continues, “I just… it’s small, but I thought you might like it.” and he produces a square shaped thing, slanted, and wrapped in tissue, still preserved, offering it to her in the palm of his hand over the campfire.

She takes it gently, “What is it?” as she delicately peels back the tissue. The cake is… well, cake. The sponge is a soft pale yellow, the cream delicately placed and the strawberries are slightly softer than they should be, but won’t make too much of a difference. She raises it to her nose and hesitantly sniffs it, which gets a chuckle out of him.

“It’s cake.” he answers, “Go on, try it.” Aleksander encourages her with a wave of his hand.

She raises her eyebrows and lifts the cake to her mouth, taking a small bite. Her eyes instantly light up, and he laughs at her reaction as she mumbles, “Oh, Saints, this is really good..” Around a mouthful of cake.

She eats a bit more, and then holds it out to him, “Want some?”

And that’s when he sees it. She’s shining. Literally glowing. Radiating light, her very skin and hair giving it off like it’s nothing. His breath hitches as she lights up the field. It’s not particularly bright, but it’s strong and it makes itself known. She’s like a mellow night light, and it only causes his smile to widen, “You’re um…” he gestures at her - at her glowing.

Her brow scrunches up - it’s cute - and she laughs sheepishly, “Shining?”

“Yeah. That.” he grins, leaning back on his palms.

She huffs, a huff of mock exasperation, “I’m sorry - I can’t… it’s not something I can really control. It just happens, y’know. Like…” She averts her eyes to the flames of the small campfire, “If I’m happy. I shine - it’s what stars do best.” They both laugh a little.

“Well, it suits you.” Aleksander says gently - his voice much softer than he meant it to be, or than he’s comfortable with. When did he get so… compassionate? He internally grimaces, but for some reason he feels an odd sense of endearment to this girl.

“Yeah,” She responds with a wry grin, “I should hope so. I am a star, after all.”

And again, they both laugh.

Aleksander didn’t intend to keep her with him for so long. He didn’t intend to introduce her to his friends - to his connections, to the people across the country who help him with his work. He didn’t intend to get her involved. But they’ve been travelling together for three months and in that time, he’s discovered a wide array of things.

The first is that she’s good with a sword. Perhaps good is an understatement. She has a natural balance about her, maybe it’s her celestial nature, but watching her with a sword is like watching art. The handle sits in her palm with an easy weight, she swings it with an air of freedom and lax, yet with complete control. The blade is, undoubtedly, hers.

They had discovered her penchant for swords in a rather unfortunate situation. They had been a touch careless. He was feeling more secure with someone else travelling at his side. And so, had paid less attention to his surroundings. If there was one con of her having her around, it was that she was a touch of a distraction.

They had passed through a village. They stayed to briefly eat lunch sitting in the town square, and then had gone to pass on just as quick as they came. It shouldn’t have drawn attention. But it did.

They hadn’t noticed the group of men watching them, looks of disdain on their features as they eyed up the two of them, mumbling to one another. They’d managed to avoid trouble so far, steering clear of Druskelle and negative situations, but on that day, something had given them away as both travellers and Grisha. It was hard to say what - perhaps it was the way they murmured and laughed quietly with one another, maybe the tell-tale way his hands moved. Perhaps he’d been careless and a slip of shadow had been noticed. They couldn’t say for certain. But these men, standing and sneering, they knew.

Either way, Y/N and Aleksander were followed back to where they were camping out by the night. It was just a clearing off the main path they were following, and they had been very comfortably sitting, eating, laughing as they did each and every evening, lit by firelight and accompanied by the low hum of bugs and the weather slowly turning cold. She noticed the figures first.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, far enough away that she could tap his shoulder with a quiet, “Leonid. There’s people.”

His brow furrowed softly, and he turned over his shoulder in the direction she was looking at. Three men, two shorter, one that was a bit taller and lagged behind - all three variously armed. One man - short, dirty blonde hair and a face marred by smudges of dirt - carried a small dagger. The second, slightly taller with a slightly more muscular frame, had dark hair that was greying at the roots, a knife, and a snarl. The third and final man, the tallest of the lot was passive, but his eyes glinted in the firelight with nothing malevolence, and in his goliath hand was a sword.

The man with the dark hair speaks first, accented and gruff, his eyes pinned to Aleksander, “Grisha, aren’t you?” he asks the question in a way that betrays he already knows the answer.

Aleksander doesn’t answer. He’s careful. Delicate. She’s sitting behind him, watching the interaction, hesitant to move. He needs to think this through in a way that puts Y/N out of harm's way. His eyes never leave the men.

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye - the second man, wielding his dagger up quickly, his movements fueled by disgust. Aleksander’s quicker, raising his hand with two fingers pointed up, creating a wall of shadow which the dagger clashes against, and in that moment he’s scrambled up to his feet, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her up with him. He runs.

He’s not used to running. He’s used to fighting. But at the moment he’s responsible for two people’s safety, and so he pushes forward, yelling at her to go. He expected the men to follow. He didn’t expect the largest to go after her, the three men separating into groups of one and two. The two come after him, dagger and knife, and he has little time to worry about Y/N before they’re gaining,

Aleksander’s efficient, his hands move fast to bring forth his shadows, forming sharp points which pierce the chests of the two men with harsh crunches, their weapons dropping into the grass as their bodies go limp, blood drooling from their mouths as the light leaves their eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then he’s alert again at the sound of someone crying out from behind him. His head whips around, and he sees Y/N, and the largest man. He’s backing her up against the tree line, she’s almost frozen in fear when she trips over her own feet and onto her back. Her eyes widen, the man leers over her, sword readied and in a brief moment of fear and desperation she rears her legs and kicks his knees.

The man grunts, hisses in pain as the sword drops from his hand so he can clutch at where she kicked him. Amateur. And in the next instant she’s lunged across the ground for the sword, where he dropped it, scrambling for it. She’s still on the floor, and she turns onto her back as the man’s attention is brought to her again, large hands reaching to cause her harm.

The sound of the sword cutting into the man is almost deafening. She does it without thinking, pure survival instinct as she cuts the man's stomach, her hands firm on the handle as blood coats them both, her breathing heavy as she pulls the sword out and the man falls back, dying slowly.

She’s frozen, and Aleksander’s eyes are almost as wide as hers. He takes a few loose footsteps towards her, a few more which are a bit firmer before he’s by her side, kneeling beside her and cleaning the blood off her cheeks with his sleeve, gently taking the sword from her iron grip and laying it beside her.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, and it feels stupid. She’s covered in blood, shaking, tears in her eyes and the only thing he can think to ask is ‘are you okay’? Saints, he’s an idiot.

He moves on, still wiping the blood off her as well as he can as she nods her head shakily, “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He says quietly. He remembers the first time he killed someone - the guilt, the fear, the horror at yourself. He frowns softly, as the thin shine of tears comes to her eyes and she looks away.

Without thinking about it much more, he picks her up, scooping her into his arms, hooking the back of her knees over his arm as she turns and curls into his chest, her crying quiet and barely audible as he carries her back to their camp.

After that, things are different. They’re closer, in a way.

Y/N keeps the sword, keeps it tucked by her side, takes care of the metal and the handle. She’s good with it, he knows for a fact, and he feels more comfortable knowing she has a means of handling herself. The emotional toll of the murder hit her hard. Perhaps, she thinks, she wasn’t meant to feel emotions like this. Her very existence is in conflict. She’s not meant to be able to feel this way, she’s meant to be a star for Saint’s sake!

But there is something so very human in the guilt she carried in the days after the attack. She was quiet, much quieter than she usually was. At first, she was hesitant to carry the sword. So, instead he carried it for her, catching her eyes flickering towards it occasionally, the way it swung by his hip and the metal caught in the sun.

One evening as they walked, she offered to take it instead.

“Do you want me to take that?” she had said, a quiet, unspoken I think I’m okay now.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It’s not heavy, I’m okay to carry it for as long as-”

“No, I’m sure.” She nodded, her look determined and firm, “My safety shouldn’t be your responsibility alone.” She explained, “We should be responsible for one another if we’re going to be travelling together. And I can’t do that if I’m unarmed.”

He nodded in understanding, and softly unhooked the sword and the holder, and offered the handle to her. She took it, measuring the weight in her palm, before she put the holder on herself and slipped the sword into it. She took a breath.

He spoke first, “I should tell you something, Y/N. Y’know, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” he said.

She didn’t respond, simply nodded and waited for him to say what he had to say.

“My name isn’t Leonid, I lied. I’ve spent most of my life having to conceal who I am, what I am, and so I hope you can understand and forgive my deception.” He paused, breathing relief into the night air, “My name is Aleksander.”

“Aleksander?” She echoes, and a small, intimate smile finds her features, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aleksander.” She says, in that half-teasing tone he’s become so accustomed with.

He rolls his eyes but can’t fight back the grin, “You’re an ass, do you know that?”

“Ah, you may have mentioned it once or twice.” She shrugs, unable to wipe off that teasing smile from her features.

He huffs in mock exasperation before his tone turns softer. He’s found he has a habit of doing that. Something about her makes him better, gentler. He almost feels human around her, “I mean it Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially for so long.”

“It’s fine,” she says with a small smile, nudging his shoulder, “You’re forgiven, if that eases your conscience.” She’s still slightly teasing, but her tone is mostly compassionate. Endearing, even.

“Thank you,” he says, grinning as he nudges her back, “Saints, you’re insufferable.”

She gasps, dramatically feigning offence. For a star, she’s caught onto the culture of sarcasm and drama rather well, and he laughs at her display, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walk. It feels right.

“How are you finding it?” He asks, as they walk, “y’know, being human? Is it weird?” He checks in on her this way every now and then to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. But this is the first time she answers differently.

“...As a star…” She sighed softly, weighing up her words, “You’re constantly watching. You’re up there, watching all these little people have adventures and lives and romance, and it’s… it’s yearning. You want those things too, y’know? You want to be flesh and bone as well, to feel emotion. To cry, and be happy, and be angry, and to know what love feels like. You want adventure, the big things in life like… meeting someone. Or having a family. Or getting an education. Making a difference.” She laughed softly, “But you also want the little things - like cake, for example. And music, and friendship, and to share meals with people you care about.”

She glanced at him, and then back to the path, “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done such a good job at making me feel welcome in a world that isn’t strictly mine.”

Her words were soft, quiet, and sincere. And it made Aleksander’s heart stutter in his chest, but he kept his composure and managed, “I’m glad I found you too.”

Aleksander takes her to a place he calls ‘the sanctuary’.

He explains it to her on the way there - a building, a place, where Grisha can support, aid and train other Grisha.

It’s been months since they first met, and by now the warm comfort of the summer is fading, replaced by cold golden sunlight and browned leaves, wetter grounds and harsher gales. And so, he takes her there.

The sanctuary is a medium-sized, pale stone structure, hidden away in the middle of nowhere, concealed by thick woods and trees. It’s squat, but wide, the front of it gives away nothing but a set of rounded wooden doors. He takes her hand - she’s not even sure he realises that he’s done it - and guides her with him to the front. Her sword swings at her side as she follows, standing beside him as he raps his knuckles on the wooden door a few times.

The door opens a crack, she can’t see who’s on the other side, but Aleksander’s gaze meets theirs and they open it. On the other side is a man, short brown hair and green eyes. He’s rather skinny, but his strength is held in his eyes. He lets Aleksander in without issue, nodding his head softly. Their hands are still linked together and so, she goes to follow.

But the brown haired man stops her, a hand coming to her chest to halt her, his eyes narrowed and dark, glancing back at Aleksander. He answers, “She’s with me, Andrei.”

“Grisha?” The man interrogates.

Aleksander huffs, “No, Andrei. But she’s been helping me for the past five months, let her through.”

Andrei’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and he glances at Aleksander finally before letting his hand drop and allowing her entrance. She nods her head softly, and follows after Aleksander. Y/N feels him squeeze her hand, a quiet apology. She squeezes back as he guides her deeper into the sanctuary. They pass rooms, beds, people who nod at him as they pass and whose eyebrows furrow when they see her trailing after him, and her stark white hair.

Inside, the sanctuary was busy. It was filled with the hum of people working, all in various clothing - some injured, some healing, some cooking, some reading, teaching, training - it was almost a wonderful study in the kindness of human nature and community that had her eyes widening.

“Are you alright, Zvezda?” he asked softly, turning back to her over his shoulder, “Are you overwhelmed? We can…”

“No, it’s… it’s wonderful.” She said quietly, her wide eyes meeting his, “I mean- it’s astounding. I’m good.” she nodded, indicating for him to keep going, “It’s just… in all our time travelling, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

He laughed softly, pulling her closer by her hand, “I guess,” he grinned, “I’m proud of this place. I’m glad you can see it like that.”

They spend at least three weeks at the Sanctuary.

Aleksander takes his time to introduce Y/N to those around her. He shows her around to all the Healers, the Heartrenders, the Inferni, the Squalors, Tidemakers - technically, he shows her off to everyone. But no one knows, really, who - or what - she is. He doesn’t say. People press and ask and inquire, “Oh, what’s her Grisha order?” “Grisha, are you?” And everytime, one of them answers, “Oh, uh, No.” and refuse to elaborate further.

It has the entire building utterly perplexed as to who this strange white haired girl is, and why she has the Shadow Summoner wrapped around her little finger. Not that The Star or The Shadow Summoner can see it, no, they’re completely oblivious. They don’t see how they’re quiet giggles, teasing, conversations might be perceived as intimate. Nor how the amount of time they spend together might be seen as suspicious.

But when you’ve spent everyday with a person for just over five months, all day, everyday, it’s very hard to separate yourself from the comfort they bring.

The confession comes late at night.

Now that they’re in a place like the Sanctuary, they have their own rooms. They’re only small, and they’re a short walk away from one another, and it gives them each a privacy they haven’t experienced for a few months. For the first week - it’s nice. Having their own beds, their own time, being able to spend some of it alone with their thoughts.

He notices it first. That he’s restless. It’s late at night, most of the building is asleep save for those on night watch, and he can barely close his eyes without feeling disturbed. He feels the need to do something - anything - and so, he gets out of bed, slipping back on his boots at the end of his bed and deciding he’s going to go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help clear his mind.

Aleksander’s almost embarrassed. He can’t… he can’t stop thinking of her. He’s annoyed at himself for it, for letting him get that close, for letting him be so vulnerable to someone who wasn’t even human, who had a child’s grasp on the world…

No, that was being unfair. He calms himself as he steps out of his room. He knows he’s just agitated, tired, a little giddy, and he takes a deep breath as he starts off down the corridor, careful not to let his boots thud too heavily. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he decides he’s just going to walk until he comes across something distracting or gets tired.

His feet take him to her room.

It’s the same size as his, and from the crack in the door he can tell she’s still awake, can hear a slight shuffling inside, candle light flickering on the floor. He realises now, why he’s there. What he’s come to do. And his heart lurches in his chest, but he understands that it’s now or hold his tongue for another few months and he doesn’t want to do that.

Aleksander wants her to know about the Y/N shaped cavern she’s carved into his life. He wants her to know about how all those nights spent travelling in fields were not something he was willing to give up so easily - that when spring came he hoped to do it all again. With her. That he thinks of her endlessly. That when he wakes he hopes she’s still sleeping beside him, just a campfire away. And he wants her closer. He wants her. It’s as simple as that, that he wants to see her smile at him, and laugh - he doesn’t care if it’s at him or with him - Saints, he just wants her happy.

The revelation comes to him, standing so close to her yet so far, on her bedroom doorstep. He takes a breath, steels himself to the sound of her soft humming from the other side of the door, and then raises his fist and knocks three times.

By the first knock, the humming stops. By the second, she’s walking over to the door, he can hear her footsteps. And by the third, the handle is turning. The door opens and he lowers his hand. She’s standing on the other side. Of course it was her, he knew it was her. It doesn’t stop his heart from thudding against his ribs, nor his breath hitching quietly.

The light from the candle makes her seem fully celestial, casting a golden hue across her features, and darkening half her face to accentuate them. It bounces off her silver hair, catching in the strands like a contained forest fire.

“Aleksander?” Y/N greets softly, a small amused smile as she tilts her head in soft confusion, her brow furrowing.

“Zvezda,” He greets softly, his eyes catching in the candle, so dark you can barely separate the pupil from the iris, “Can’t sleep?”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, beckoning him in with her hand, “Always got more energy during the night,” she sighs, “And it’s taking some getting used to, not sleeping in a field, not waking up…” next to you.

But she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, he simply hums in agreement and shuts the door behind him, leaning on it, “I know, it’s a big adjustment.” He runs a hand through his long dark hair, “How are you finding the Sanctuary?”

“It’s nice,” she says softly, briefly fixing her words in a slight hurry, “Sorry, that sounded- it’s lovely. The people are kind, the community is wonderful, food’s much better than bread and cheese and meats,” She grins, “No offence.”

He laughs, his nose wrinkling with the action, “None taken. In fact, I completely agree.”

She sits on her bed as they talk, tucking her legs underneath her, “Can’t sleep either?” She probes.

Aleksander shakes his head as well, “No, feeling restless. Same reasons as you.” He admits, feeling a bit more at ease with the slight indication that the comfort they feel around one another may be mutual, “I guess,” he sighs, bracing himself to admit it, “We spent so long together. A week was fine - but it’s weird. I keep on… waking up and expecting to see you.”

“I know,” she agreed quietly with a small laugh, her head bent down to her hands in her lap, “it’s strange, isn’t it? I feel weird not… walking with you, or doing something, seeing a new town or whatnot. And I have this feeling.” She frowned softly to herself.

He tilts his head, folds his arms, “What feeling, Zvezda?” He asks, his brow furrowing gently.

“I… I don’t know.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked not quite at him - but just over his shoulder - “It’s like… this…tightness.” her hand came to her chest, her nose scrunching softly, “Here. Like… nausea. But not quite - I’m not going to be sick. And I can feel my heart. And it… it feels like wanting. But stronger?”

His eyes widened a fraction, “And uh, when do you feel it?”

She tilted her head, her eyes zeroing in on him in confusion and uncertainty, “When…” when I think about you. “Oh.” She said quietly, “Is that what that is?” her hand gently rubbed her chest, clearly where she felt it strongest, a sheepish laugh as she turned her eyes to the candle, anywhere but him, “They don’t describe it like this in the books.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he wouldn’t have to explain to her that what she was feeling was, at least, a crush. If not more. Aleksander laughed softly, “No, no they do not.”

Y/N laughed too, mildly embarrassed and still somewhat avoiding looking at him, her hands fidgeting, “Look, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” he cut her off, “Don’t be, please don’t be, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a sharp breath, standing up from leaning on the door, “It’s… it’s mutual, Y/N.” and he took a hesitant step towards her, “Zvezda.” He said the nickname to get her attention.

It worked, her head turning slightly, and he continued, “Please don’t ever apologise for having feelings.” He said, his tone so much softer than he was comfortable with, “You’re a human now.” he laughed a little, crouching down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “It’s your job now. To feel. To make the most of life. So,” he said with a playful shrug, “we both have… crushes on one another.” It felt childish to say ‘crushes’ but he couldn’t think of a better word.

“I mean…” he sighed softly, “That’s kind of… why I came here.” He confessed.

“Really?” she asked quietly, watching him intently as he spoke.

“Really.” he echoed, standing up. She patted the bed beside her for him to sit, and he gratefully took it, glad she was taking this all so well and she wasn’t clamming up about their feelings for one another, “Look, Y/N, Zvezda. You’ve changed my life,” he said with a small laugh of disbelief, “I mean… you’re a Star, for Saint’s sake. You are, by nature, brilliant. And you’ve been nothing short of that in the months we’ve been travelling. Even if your humour is appalling.” He softly teased, earning a playful grumble of, “It is not.” from her.

“It is!” he insisted with a teasing grin, “You laugh at all my bad jokes, dear.”

“Yeah well,” her initial embarrassment was beginning to fade as they engaged in their usual banter, “I think that says more about you for making the bad jokes.” to which he scoffed, and she dispersed into laughter, the two of them leaning back on the single bed.

The laughter lasted a moment longer before fading out with a soft, content sigh. He grinned at her from where he was, a hand reaching forward for hers as he softly, half-teasingly, murmured, “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” “Shining, Zvezda.”

“What can I say?” she laughed quietly, her head finding his shoulder, “I’m happy.”

A/N: I cannot wait to go to bed. And also to start part two. Goodnight!! <;3

#Last Words of A Shooting Star AU #Stardust AU #the darkling X reader #Shadow And bone X reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #stardust au #thebigsl33p

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