#aleksander kirigan fanfiction

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hysteria

kinktober, day twenty-eight

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

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

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

word count: 1607

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

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

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

“I-I do?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna get better, don’t you?”

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

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

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

“Be a good girl and take it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hottpinkpenguin]

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

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

Eager

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look-”

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

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

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

“Eager are we, pretty girl?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[padfootagain]

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.

[budugu]

"Stop moving darling please"

"But what if someone sees us General?"

"Let them see it dear wife. We are married and no one can say anything about a husband wanting to kiss his wife"

A cute dialogue from one of my darling x reader wips on ao3 :)

[shawty-writes-a-little]

Amongst the two of us

General Kirigan x princess!reader (one shot)

Word count: 3.4k

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

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

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

This one is spoiler free for S2 :)

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n you don’t get to—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n it-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

[kasagia]

Today marks ONE year of my writing on Tumblr!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn't trust you at all.

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

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

You were too kind to be robbed.

[thebadgerclan]

Unaware

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[inknopewetrust]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐈

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 [𝟏𝟖+, 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐨𝟑].

𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

𝐄𝐭𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

𝐀𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞.

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤

𝐊𝐚𝐳 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮�� 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝟒 𝐔

"𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝?"

[carnationworld-writings]

I'm just a jealous guy (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Aleksander Morozova x Grisha!reader

Universe: The Grishavers /Shadow and bone 

Word Count: 1221

Requested: Yes, by my sweet annon.

Warnings: mention of jealousy, shouting someone out, mention death (Luda), making out, a quick mention of sexual activity - it ends before something happened.

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your wellbeing is important to me!

Summary: The one where he is jealous. 

Aleksander walked through the corridors of Little Palace, trying to find one of his most trusted Grisha, who was also the person who made his heart beat a little faster. He lived for centuries, hiding his identity from people, always hiding his emotions, and always striving to achieve his goals. But then they showed on his path - a person with great power and strong will. A person who always cared for the people they loved and who found a way to parts of his heart that he’d forgotten. Somehow, they’d ended up sitting together into late nights, talking about everything but plans for Grishas’ training or plans for the army. He allowed himself to open up for the first time since he lost Luda, and for the first time, he allowed himself to feel again. He was afraid to call it as it was, but the truth was that he loved them. And they loved him. 

The Darkling walked to the training yard, not minding Grishas, who welcomed him. He quickly knew he was in the right place and finally found them. He first heard their soft laugh and then saw them in the middle of the training yard with Fedyor, surrounded by younger Grishas. He knew that they loved to teach them, and they only showed these kids how to defend themself. But something deep in his mind made him angry at the sight of Fedyor’s hand around them. He watched how he moved his hands to their sides and started to tickle them. They squealed at the feeling and tried to escape from him, laughing loudly. The Darkling watched how close they were and how fondly they looked at each other. The betrayal blossomed in his chest. They gently tapped the Heartrender’s chest, smiling widely. Kirigan couldn’t watch it anymore and turned on his heel, quickly going to his chambers. What he didn’t know, they saw him at the last moment, and they started worrying about his hurried departure. They ended her part of the lesson and asked Fedyor to watch their training when they went after their General. After a few moments, they knocked on the doors of his cabinet. They smiled at the sound of this deep voice telling anyone behind them that he was busy. They dared to open them and snicked in, biting their lower lip. 

“Maybe you’ll find a second for me, General?” They leaned against the door, watching him. They knew that even if he didn’t raise his head from maps, he knew it was them. They smiled at how his black kefta perfectly wrapped his tall body. 

“Make it quick. I have a war to win.” They sighed and came closer to him, gently touching his elbow. When he didn’t change his position, they dared to lean against him, resting their cheek on his arm. They could tell that he was tense, and they hated it.

“I know, handsome, and you’re doing an amazing job. But even you, great General Kirigan, need some rest. And I saw you at the training yard.”

“You saw me?” He said mockingly. “You seemed busy with this Heartrender.” He moved away, taking his arm from their grip, and they looked at him surprised. They laughed breathlessly, standing in front of him.

“With Fedyor? He is only my friend. A very close friend, who was the first one to welcome me here with open arms and who made me feel at home here.” They said with a small smile, which faded when he constantly pretended they were not there. “If you want to accuse me of something, say it aloud rather than shutting me out.” When he heard the sadness in their voice, he stopped moving, and his eyes landed on the war figures in front of him. After a few seconds, he breathed deeply.

“Are they really ‘just a friend’?” He murmured without raising his head. 

“Of course, they are just a friend. If you want to know, Fedyor lately was on a few dates with a person you know very well.”

“With who?” Alexander knew about their love for gossip. With time he discovered that it brought both of them joy, so he started encouraging them to spill a bean about it. He also wanted to be wholly sure that they were only his and that there wasn’t anybody else in their life.

“With your own personal Corporalki.” They couldn’t stop a big smile when he looked at them stunned. 

“With Ivan?” They nodded, carefully watching his face. He started thinking about the latest behaviour of this man. “He was a little strange lately, in fact. Like… Happier.” They couldn’t stop the smile rising on their face, and once again, they tried to slowly touch his forearm. They breathed with relief when he didn’t move away this time. 

“Because they are, both of them. Like I am happy when you are next to me because only our loved one can pull some of the strings in our hearts and make it beat faster in that specific way. So I will say it once again. They are only my friend. It’s YOU who has my heart.” They gently squeezed his arm, and finally, he moved closer to them with a look on his face reserved only for time when they were alone. His hands mindlessly moved to their hips, and in a quick move, he made them sit on the table behind them. They let the squeak leave their throat, making him smile widely at what they started laughing. Their hands slowly moved to rest on his shoulders, and one of them mindlessly started fidgeting with the ends of the hair on his neck. 

“You… You made me happy, you know?” He whispered sheepishly, and they could only smile wider.

“I know. Were you jealous?” They bit her lips to stop grinning, especially when they saw a flush coming into his cheeks. He looked above them, trying to compose himself. Before he could answer, they leaned down and softly kissed his bearded cheek. “Please, don’t deny it. It actually… flatters me, you know? I… I always dreamed of having a person who would care for me enough to do it. Even if there isn’t any reason for that.” 

The Darkling gently squeezed their hips, standing between their legs. His hand moved to their thigh, caressing it gently.

“I do care. Every single look from other men or women is enough to feel jealousy in me. To want to show all of them that you are mine.”

“And I always will be.” They whispered, and General immediately leaned down, kissing them deeply. One of his hands moved to the back of their head, gently moving it to allow him better access while the other kept them close. They moaned into his lips, wrapping one leg around him, wanting to feel every centimetre of his body. They were so lost in each other that they didn’t hear the knock on the door or that somebody had walked in. They were too busy unfastening his kefta to care about anything. Poor Ivan closed the door quicker than he ever opened them. After a moment of shock, Corporalki felt happiness for his General and his friend - even a dark soul like him deserved some light and love in the arms of a trusted person.

Author’s note: Thank you  so much for reading! If it’s not too much trouble, I would love to hear your thoughts about it. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and motivate me to work.

I am sorry about every grammar mistake and misspellings. English is not my first language.

Klaudia  💜

Taglists are always open! If you want to be added fill this up or send me an ask!

[itarile-1]

I was not fond of the book ending and detested Malyen… uhhh Darklina all the way :) Also, I hated the second season of the Netflix TV series, unpopular opinion, but I'm glad it got canceled. If they knew it would be over, they could have followed the books, and it would still be a better ending than what they did with it…

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

let me be yours

a/n: this (and so many other ideas omg) was just sparked when he said the whole let me be your monster line in s2

warnings: aleksander morozova x reader, enemies to lovers undertones, love confession

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

masterlist | join my taglist

“See, you may think you know what you want, but you don’t,” Aleksander explained calmly as he slowly stepped closer towards where you stood, leaning against the palace wall, “no, I know exactly what it is that you really want,” he came to a stop right in front of you and breathed, “what you truly desire…” his obsidian gaze so fierce that it sent a shiver down your spine. 

Your heart nearly beat completely out of your chest, not only by his arrogant assumption but also by the unfamiliar intimate proximity, “you want a challenge,” he continued, “you want a love that consumes you,” you sucked in a sudden breath as one of his hands unexpectedly came up to gently swipe your hair back over your shoulder, his fingertips lightly ghosting over the side of your exposed neck as he did so, “one that’s so all-consuming that it blurs the line and you confuse it with hate.”

“You, my little bird, don’t want a hero,” the room around you two seemed to dim slightly, letting you focus on him and only him as he uttered, “you desire a monster,” his tall frame towered over yours as he proposed fervently, “let me be yours.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hottpinkpenguin]

kirigan one shot, where the reader(fem) treats his face wounds and he feels at ease becuz for some reason her gift releases him from his pain, he cries(sobbing)all leading up to a very sad yet soft, fluffy end. as much as I hate him, I feel like the man just desperately needs a hug from someone

A/n: he really does need a hug, and i totally volunteer. thanks for the request anon!!

Darkling X Grisha GN!Reader Word Count: 2769 Warnings: mild mentions of blood

You held your hands over the boy’s ghastly leg wound, the flesh underneath stitching itself together slowly. His broken, chesty sobs slowed as you poured your gift onto his wound. You felt the toll an entire day of healing was taking on you, but the boy on the stretcher beneath you was too young to turn away. His blue eyes softened as you heard the bone snap back into place, his ankle turning to its correct angle. You focused, your head beginning to ring and swim with exhaustion as you channeled the Small Science down to his leg. Nearby, you heard his parents begin to pray over you, his mother weeping noisily. 

When the wound was completely closed up and the worst of the bruising faded, you dropped your hands and let go of the grip on your powers. You had to steady yourself on the edge of the bed to keep from falling. Your vision was dotted with white, your ears sounded like they’d been filled with cotton. You heard your cousin Donovan usher the family out of your Healer’s tent as the parents profusely thanked him, trying to offer him their money, a goat, and whatever precious items that could think of.

You sank onto the bed, dabbing at the sweat on your brow as you fought off a wave of dizziness. Your breath was ragged like you’d just run for miles. The destruction left by the group of mercenaries that had torn through the bordertown had felt never ending, but you were grateful to know the boy was the last person who’d need your services. You’d need to sleep for days to recover. 

“Y/n, there’s one more.” 

You could hear the apology in Donovan’s voice when he spoke. He’d poked his head in through the tent flap, dark bags under his eyes.

You shook your head, guilt-ridden. “Donovan, I can’t, I’m sorry. Please ask one of the other Healers.” 

“He asked for you specifically.” Something about Donovan’s voice grabbed you. You looked at him, questions swirling in your eyes. He only tilted his head at you meaningfully before stepping aside. 

A tall man clad in dark robes stepped into your tent. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t see his pupils, his hair the color of obsidian, with four ragged black scars traversing his handsome face. Something about him was so… familiar. 

You tried to rise from the bed, but your legs wobbled and you felt yourself pitch forward.

The stranger reacted quickly and agilely, leaping forward to catch you before you hit the ground. 

“You’re exhausted,” he observed. His voice sounded dark and heavy with a sorrow that hovered around him like a fog.

He helped you back onto the cot, its surface damp with sweat and blood from the day’s patients. The dark-eyed stranger looked around the tent, surveying the scene with intent eyes. Finally, his gaze found yours again. 

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he announced gallantly. “I can see you’ve done enough for one day.” 

He turned, his black robes whirling around him with a dramatic flourish. You caught a fleeting glance of his side profile: a straight nose, strong jaw, dark brows framing darker eyes. Proud mouth with a slight downturn at the corners. 

General Kirigan.

Recognition slammed into you like a freight train. You’d only seen him once before and from afar, but you’d never forget. But he was dead, wasn’t he? Your mind went blank for a moment as you watched him move towards the open flap on your tent.

“Wait!” 

He hesitated at the edge of your tent, half turning back to you. 

“General?” Your voice was small and questioning. 

He turned fully back to you, the lamplight illuminating those ghastly scars across his face. The flesh at the seam of the wounds was discolored, as if the marks were poisoned. You’d never seen scars like that before. 

He gave you a small, bashful smile, dropping his gaze.

“Aleksander will do nicely,” he answered you. It was him. 

“But… the Fold? We… I thought you were dead…” Your voice trailed off as you realized how silly you sounded. Why should General Kirigan care what an untrained Healer at the edge of Ravka thought of his fate?

But, much to your surprise, he walked back towards you with a polite smile, his courtly manners on full display. 

“For a moment, so did I.” The smile turned sour on his lips, leaving behind a mangled looking grimace. You felt his heartbeat stutter in his chest, your powers attuned to him like a magnet. You tried to find something to say, your mind still reeling from the shock of finding Ravka’s most famous Grisha in your lowly tent. 

Whatever momentary reverie he’d been swept up in, he surfaced quickly and regained his footing. The flash of pain you’d seen in his expression smoothed back into a mask of graciousness. 

“But, as you can see, I survived. Although… these scars.” His hand came to his face, barely touching the largest, deepest gash that stretched from his right temple across his nose and down the smooth plane of his left cheek. He winced at the contact, however light. “They… pain me. I was told your powers are… up to the task.” 

You blinked dumbly for a moment as his words sank in. 

“You… came here for me?” The notion seemed impossible, but the Black General nodded. 

“I did.” No explanation, no answer to the million questions running through your head. You wondered where to start. What to ask. 

You hesitated a few moments before you realized you were talking to a patient. The famed Shadow Summoner, yes. But a patient still. 

You stood quickly from the cot, adrenaline surging through your exhausted body just enough to keep you upright. You had the wherewithal to be embarrassed by the conditions of the tent. You yanked the stained sheets off the cot, balling them in your hands. 

“I’m so sorry,” you spluttered, shoving the sheets into a corner of the tent. You had no new ones to add to the cot, and very little in the way of creature comforts to offer to notable guests. For his part, the General didn’t seem to mind, his eyes following you as you bustled about, straightening the pillows on the bare mattress and trying to brush down the stray hairs that had broken loose from your braids, curling at the temples from the humid summer night and your own exertion. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he assured you kindly. You beckoned to the mattress once it was as presentable as you could make it. Aleksander sat on it without hesitation, that same genteel smile on his handsome face. “There’s often no time for the niceties when our powers are needed.” 

Your curiosity was piqued by his comment, but you were too flustered to ask anything of it. He adjusted on the squeaky mattress, remaining upright with his hands clasped in his lap. You pulled a stool over from the corner of the tent and placed it next to his right leg, balancing your weight on it. 

“What needs healing?” you asked, retreating to your role of Healer in order to escape your own embarrassment. 

He gestured to the scars again. You swallowed thickly, examining them carefully and trying to avoid his gaze. He studied you intently, his expression calm and unreadable. 

“I’ve never seen scars like this,” you admitted. “I don’t know how to heal these.” 

He nodded, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “They are from a Volcra,” he offered by way of explanation, noting the shock on your face. “I do indeed doubt that you’ve seen scars like these before. Whether your gifts work or not, I would be much obliged if you were to try.” 

You nodded earnestly, wiping your hands on the front of the nurses apron you wore. Although you didn’t use the conventional tools of a doctor, you found that people trusted you when you looked more like what they expected. You’d never been trained as a Grisha for the Second Army anyways, so you had no red Kefta to wear like the Healers of Kirigan’s ranks. 

You let your mind loosen its grip on the nerves as you felt yourself sink into the role of Healer. Kirigan nodded at you, sensing the change in tone as you lifted your hands to the side of his face. 

You tapped into the well of your powers that sat at the center of your chest. You had to reach deep, your reserves sapped from the day. But you felt it, the warm energy of the Small Science, and grasped it. With effortful concentration, you pushed the energy up into your shoulders and down the length of your arms into your palms and fingers. Then, you launched it into the space between your fingertips and the General’s face, allowing the Small Science to do the rest. For several moments, nothing happened. The black scars stared back at you unchanged. You dug deeper, pulling all the healing energy you could find buried in you and forcing it into your hands. You were trembling by the end of it, the attempt completely draining you. 

“Here. Let me help you.” You watched with confusion as Aleksander lifted his hands from his lap, until his fingertips barely touched your exposed wrists. As his skin made contact with yours, you felt a new dimension of energy open up to you. Like you’d been standing on the other side of a veil, the force of your powers tripled in a surge of warmth. 

You struggled with the extra effort of channeling the new powers, your concentration narrowing to nothing but your hands and the scars. You felt the power pulse with the inhale and exhale of your own breath, and after a few surges you began to see the skin around Aleksander’s scars start to mend itself. Like wind wiping away ridges in sand, the scars slowly shrunk, one excruciating millimeter at a time. 

Even with whatever added power Aleksander had gifted you by his touch, you felt your body begin to tire. Your head started to pound, your eyelids becoming heavy. 

Aleksander must have noticed too, because he very gently pulled your hands away from his face after a few more moments of effort. When the distance between your hands and his face was too great for your powers to traverse, you felt your body crumple in an exhausted heap on the stool. You let your head hang heavy, your chest heaving. You closed your eyes, breathing through the dull roar in your ears. 

You weren’t sure how long passed - probably only a few breaths. Your awareness came back slowly. You slowly lifted your head, your eyes coming to focus on Aleksander’s face. He hadn’t moved from his seat on the bare mattress at the center of the tent, and you noted with a swell of pride that his scars were noticeably smaller and less disfiguring. 

It took you a second to realize that there were tears pooling in his dark eyes. One loosed itself and traced a slow trail down his unmarred cheek. He was looking at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude, a new smile on his lips. 

“What was that?” you asked bluntly, looking at his hands. “What did you do?” 

“Nothing you couldn’t do yourself,” he replied cryptically. His voice sounded lighter. “I just gave you a boost to reach the full strength of your powers.” 

You couldn’t hazard a guess as to what that meant, or how to interpret what you’d just experienced. Your attention was turning elsewhere as another tear sprang free from his eyes. 

“Normally people stop crying after I’ve healed them,” you observed quietly. “Have I hurt you?” 

His expression turned somber and serious, the gentle smile melting from his lips. 

“No, y/n. You didn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite, actually. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. I feel almost… free.” 

You weren’t sure if it was the fatigue or the weight in Aleksander’s voice, but your heart ached at his words. Acting on an instinct, you leaned forward and brushed away a teardrop with your thumb against his jawline. You pulled back hesitantly, afraid you’d crossed a line. Aleksander’s hand caught yours. You felt your powers rumbling in response to whatever magic lived in his skin, your heart skipping a beat as he held your hand to his cheek. 

“I’d ask if we could stay a while. Please.” 

You swallowed, uncertain for a moment. You could only imagine what Donovan and the other Healers you traveled with along the Ravkan border would think. Donovan certainly would have told everyone within earshot about who was in your tent by now, if they hadn’t seen the Black General themselves. What would they think if he lingered too long?

You watched as Aleksander’s expression turned from pleading to naked desperation and immediately made your decision. You nodded, unable to deny him a small comfort he so desperately needed. 

His eyes fluttered closed as he nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” he breathed out, nuzzling his cheek against the palm of your hand. “No need to go further,” he added, following your train of thought to the questions you were too afraid to ask. “I’m not asking for your body. Just your presence.”

You felt yourself relax as the sincerity of Aleksander’s words wrapped around you. You let your thumb stroke gently back and forth along the plane of his cheek. His eyes were still closed, and you saw him continue to breathe deeply. 

“What brought you here?” you asked cautiously after a few moments of quiet. 

His eyes opened gently, and you were once again struck by how very dark his irises were. 

“I found myself in need of a Healer with skills beyond just mending flesh. Rumor of your talents reached me. And I was…” His voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he became lost in thought for a moment. “I was out of options. These scars aren’t the only wounds I suffered in the Fold.” 

You nodded as if you understood, although in truth you didn’t. You’d heard from some of your past patients that you were more than just a Healer, but you never knew what to make of those statements, so you’d always dismissed them as expressions of gratitude. Most of your patients were otkazat'sya - non-Grisha - so it was particularly easy to explain away their superstitions about your powers. To hear it from the Black General made your mind reel. You tried to tamp down the selfish part of you that was itching to ask more. 

“I’m glad I could help,” you stammered out blandly. Aleksander sighed, leaning against your hand for one more moment before he smiled and began to rise from the cot. 

“I won’t keep you, I can see how exhausted you are.” You rose along with him, trailing after him like a nervous puppy as he made to move towards the tent flap. 

“Those scars aren’t completely healed,” you observed. “I could accompany you, General. If you’d like.” You were astounded by your own boldness, and you weren’t sure if you offered because of how devastatingly handsome he was or because you sensed how deeply he needed your powers. 

He hesitated at the edge of your tent, turning back to face you with a pained look of regret on his face. 

“A kind offer,” he replied softly. “But one I can’t accept, I’m afraid.”

You interrupted his exit again, a restless energy inside you imploring him not to leave. “Why not?” 

He didn’t stop this time, although you heard his quiet answer perfectly clear. “I have a knack for ruining beautiful things, and I would not wish such a fate on you.”

General Kirigan vanished into the warm summer night like a shadow. His visit had been so fleeting and unusual that you questioned whether you’d dreamt the whole thing in some sort of exhausted fever dream. It wasn’t until the following week, when you received a fresh set of bedsheets and new nurse’s apron from a mysterious donor, that you began to believe your own memory. There was a note tucked into the sheets, written on crisp parchment paper in the darkest ink you’d ever seen:

For the healer who mends more than what can be seen

You saved the note, if only to prove to yourself that it hadn’t been a dream after all…

[marcelllyn]

Being your secret lover.

I come to say that Netflix should stop using Ben Barnes as a villain in their series.

Warnings: Sexual content, English is not my first language, slightly questionable love, questionable relationship. That's not a totally cute story!!!

Synopsis: You are the general's secret love, but there are things you don't know about him but he doesn't seem to want you to find out.

 So, are you going to tell me how you managed to buy this dress? - Her sister sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

- I got it as a present. - You replied as you combed your hair.

She widened her eyes and said:

- From whom? You don't have that many rich friends to give you such a fancy present. - She murmured.

- It was a gift from a loved one, and what's your problem? - He laughed out loud. - So many questions early on.

- I'm just wondering, since you started working at the little Palace, you've been getting a lot of things. - She sat down on the bed. - Is someone courting you?

It was impossible to lie to the creature in front of her, who stared at her with his big, strangely uncomfortable eyes.

- Yes. - She said softly. - Sir, I was going to tell you at some point.

She put her hands on her hips and laughed sarcastically.

- What time? And what does he look like? He's a Grisha, I imagine.

- Yes, he is, don't tell our brothers about it. - He pointed the comb at her menacingly. - And he's handsome, charming and very well employed in the little palace.

- Handsome and well employed? - He laughs as he runs his hand through his beautiful long brown hair. - It sounds slightly like a dream, what's his name?

Your eyes widen slightly, recalling the memory of when the general told you his name as if it were a terrible secret.

"- I don't know how you manage to bathe in such hot water. - He murmured, running his hand over your stomach.

You laughed as you intertwined your fingers with his. His breath drifted into your ear.

- It's perfect for me. - You whispered.

He moved a little in the tub so that he could stroke your damp hair.

- I don't get the chance to take hot baths every day. - You said with a yawn.

He squeezed your hand a little in understanding. It was a perfect moment, the two of you in the bath looking out of the window at the landscape.

- If you came to live here, you wouldn't have this problem. - He held your chin, turning your face towards him. - What do you think?

- I can't, I have my brothers and they wouldn't let me live here.

- Maybe I should order you to live here? - He gently kissed her nose.

- It would be a bit strange, don't you think? - He laughed. - And I don't want to leave them anyway; there's no point in begging. - He joked.

It was like a dream, the general was such a handsome man that you could wish you hadn't blinked just to look at him longer, his beauty was so mesmerizing. His black hair was messy, his face relaxed, his body trembled with anxiety at being near him. His dark eyes met yours.

- What are you looking at? - He said smiling. A beautiful smile.

- Just admiring your beauty, General.

- That's my job. - He moved the hand that was on his belly up, brushing it across his breast just to rub water on his face. - You can call me Aleksander, but don't tell anyone, not even your brothers. - He said with a stern tone.

- What a beautiful name. - She turned her body so that she could kiss him gently, making a little water come out of the tub. - I promise I won't tell anyone. - Her hands held the man's face as she kissed him, it felt like heaven, her body short-circuiting. Running her hand through his hair, she could feel his hand on her hip. "

- It's none of your business. - You replied with a silly smile on your face.

- You can't do that, I'll die of curiosity! - She rolled over in bed in protest.

- It really is a shame. - He laughed. - Do you think I'm pretty?

She watched his face with a smile. You were magnificent.

- Did he give you earrings? - She widened her eyes. - Doesn't he have a friend who's looking for a bride?

- Cecilia! - A loud laugh followed. - I'm going back to the little palace today, I need to look decent.

- Yes. - She showed her tongue. - You look beautiful, as always.

It was late at night when a carriage came to pick you up. You said goodbye to your three brothers and your older sister. You missed them every time you had to leave them, and you were even more anxious about the conversation you would have to have with the General when you got there.

After a two-hour journey, with Ivan by your side chattering away, the two of you had struck up a good friendship during the time you had stayed at the palace, even if he didn't know why he had to pick you up. As a peasant girl, it was normal for you to go to the small palace on your own, but that would be unacceptable to your crush. So you arrived at the palace, your suitcases were taken to your room, but you didn't even spend the night there.

After communicating with all his friends and having dinner, he waited until the whole palace had gone to sleep before knocking on the door of the general's room. With just one touch, he opened the door with a smile on his face, pulling her inside.

- I've missed you so much! - He said, hugging her.

- I missed you too. - She smiles. - Wow, it's a mess in here. - You looked around the office, lots of papers everywhere.

- I'm a little busy with something. - He caressed her hip. - How was dinner?

- Great, I missed my friends, but I wanted to know where my favorite bleeder is?

- Tiana? - He walked to the other corner of the office, picking up a bottle of wine. - She's gone to the warp camp.

His chest tightened, wishing that everything was going well for her.

- And what is that thing? - She approached him.

- So many questions. - Squeeze your nose. - I imagine you're tired, you'd better go to bed.

As soon as you raised an eyebrow, he rolled his eyes in amusement.

- I can explain it to you later, why don't you go to sleep now? - His tone remained sweet but stern.

- Will you sleep with me? - He took a sip of wine from his glass. - You look a little tired.

He nodded and you wondered how much of that bottle he had drunk and why he was making such a mess, but you didn't want to intimidate him. So you went into the next room, to lie down on that incredibly comfortable bed. There was a subject that couldn't be avoided for long, so silence filled the room.

- Why are you hiding me? - You asked as he sat down next to you, running his hand through your hair.

- I don't hide, I protect. - He murmured with the glass of wine in his hand.

- Protect you from what exactly? - She whispered sleepily.

- A lot of things, it's dangerous to get involved with a person who is very attacked. You could be used as a way to hurt me.

For a moment, you could feel the warmth of his protection, but as he said it, it didn't sound convincing. But what was the point? It was probably sleep that made her doubt his word so much.

He smiled gently at you as your eyelids drooped and you fell asleep.

In the morning, the sunlight came into the room and he wasn't in bed as usual. You looked through the bedroom door to make sure he wasn't talking to anyone, and there was no one but his figure reading some papyrus.

- Good morning. - You said sweetly.

- Good morning. - he murmured softly. - I'd love to give you some attention today, but I'm really busy and I have a headache.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, smelling his hair, thinking to yourself how such a hot man could like you.

- But I have to have a serious talk with you. - You hummed. - About a question I have.

- Go ahead, darling. - He sighed tiredly.

- My brothers have told me since I was very young that I should beware of men who want to take my virginity and abandon me, so it's necessary that I know what you want in the long run.

The man's eyes widened and a laugh came out of his mouth.

- What a silly worry. - He held up his hand. - I can assure you that I'm not that kind of man, and you haven't given yourself to me yet.

- I know that, so are you going to marry me? I'm not going to do that without being married.

He snorted and pulled you into a quiet kiss, just our lips touching.

- Can we talk about it when my head isn't throbbing? - I smiled pathetically.

[moonlightgrisha]

Little Palace at Night

Ch. 10 After your grand display, you must face the consequence. Are you content with losing the Black General's trust? [Masterlist] Previous - Next

All days look the same.

Training with Botkin, summoning with Baghra, reading your books, and try to get some sleep.

You wear your kefta, blue as the Etheralki's uniform. It was given you as soon as you returned to the Little Palace. Nobody asked you if you would have chosen another color.

Some Grisha actually like you. They are fascinated by your strange nature, they help you feel at home, they don't care where you are from.

Some others don't make an effort to hide their dissatisfaction. You are a joke to them, a little spoiled royal whose pretty tricks are good only for tea parties.

You walk among them like a ghost.

You spend all your free time reading, especially all reports about war, politics and diplomacy you can get your hands on. The rest of the day you dive right into your training, even though you are not that strong as Botkin would like, or even close to anything Baghra would find acceptable.

Baghra, indeed, is the finishing touch of all your days. No matter how inadequate you may feel, she always manages to make you feel worse. She urges you to learn summoning in the daylight, which seems impossible at first, but as you start practising it, she finds more and more flaws.

She says it's a waste, all this power in a vain little princess like yourself.

You know she's trying to make you angry. And you get angry, and sometimes leave slamming the door of her bloody hut, but you always come back, because you want to learn. You want to master your power.

Baghra may whine as much as she pleases, but you are learning fast.

Genya introduces you to David, a lovely Durast who wants to know everything about your moon summoning, even though you don't know much yourself. He claims that light, like all things, is matter, and you can use it as a blade or a bullet in the same way you shape it as sparkles or spheres. Maybe General Kirigan could teach you the Cut. David insists about it, saying he's pretty sure you can work on your own version.

You don't reply to that.

You have not talked to the Darkling for a while, now. If he asks about you, requesting reports of your training, you are not aware. You see him, of course, passing through the Little Palace and sometimes at dinner, but he never speaks to you, and you never go after him.

You pretend you don't care.

But you find yourself going over and over your last conversation at the Winter Palace, always in the most unconvenient places, like during your training, or when you lie in bed, exhausted after a long day. It is unnerving, and you must put a stop to it, but you don't know how.

There is no friendship between you and him, as both of you have already made clear in your own choice of words.

You will never, ever make the first move, ever.

And you will never apologize. For what!? Just to have your little skirmishes back?

You have more important things to think about, now.

That's what you set your mind about, and you carry on stubbornly.

You'd never think you'd be betrayed by your own body, in your own beloved nighttime.

So, tonight, when you wake up with a startle, finding yourself standing instead of lying in bed, it takes a while before you realize you have been sleepwalking for the first time since you moved to the Little Palace.

Those few seconds feel like a vortex of confusion. You look around, lost, and grab whatever is in front of you. Well, whoever, actually.

As you look up, it turns out it is the General himself.

You try to step back, but he takes a firmer grip on you.

You look at him in confusion long enough to make him feel compelled to speak.

"You exited your quarters and didn't seem alert. The opchrinki reported to me". he explains.

That's the first time you hear his voice in so many weeks, you lost count.

"Sleepwalking", you manage to answer. "See, I did not lie about that".

"No", he repeats, his voice low. "You didn't".

The shapes around you are clearer, now. You are right in front of his rooms, and the door is opened. Why on earth were you going there?

"I am sorry to have disturbed you", you say. "Goodnight".

He shakes his head, and only then you notice you are shaking, too. Your hands tremble, even in his firm grip. "You are in a state. Please".

He gestures to the open door, and before you can refuse, you have already stepped inside.

The light is dimmer than you remember, and he is not wearing his kefta, but a black, loose shirt that looks much more informal. He gestures to an armchair and while you go sit, you ask: "Did I wake you up?"

"You did not". He pours something in a glass, then hands It to you. "I am not having much sleep these days".

His war table is set up with miniatures soldiers and banners. You look at it, while you take the glass to your lips, capturing an unfamiliar scent. "I thought you did not drink liquors".

"I said I do, sometimes. And I reckon you need something stronger than tea".

You sit in silence, sipping the liquid. He leans on the war table, observing his miniature army, stubbornly ignoring you. But you can only be ignored so long.

"That Is quite the army, General Zlatan has gathered", you remark.

He doesn't even lift his gaze from the table. "What would you possibly know of General Zlatan's wherabouts".

His dismissive tone enrages you. You put down your drink. He doesn't know yet, but you can play this game just as he does, maybe even better.

"Well, according to rumors, and to the pamphlets that have been smuggled around in the stables, he has been gathering quite an army in Os Kervo. Deserters, mostly, but regulars too. It seems, our First Army General believes West Ravka might be better off without the Royal Family. You'd be surprised, he doesn't have kind words for you, too. Plus, his father's country estate is not that far from my aunt's, and I remember stepping on the General's feet a few times at receptions. I also remember him not being fond of the Lantsov. Strange way to charme a girl with royal ties."

The Darkling is staring at you, now. How satisfying, finally being more interesting than his miniature army. It takes him a long time to try to speak. "How-"

"I read".

You can spot the ghost of a smile lingering in the corner of his mouth.

"And what does he say about me?"

"That you are arrogant, impulsive and positively dictatorial".

"And do you agree with him?"

"Are you trying to dislike me even more, General?"

He chuckles, and you might think you have won him over, at last. But it's not that easy, and it has only started.

"I do not dislike you, princess. I don't trust you".

Delusion is not easy to hide, but you try to mask it with pride. "You only call me princess out of spite" you reply.

"How would you have me call you, then? Moon Summoner? Or maybe Sankta?"

"I have a name, you know. And you do too, even if you never cared to tell me"

He frowns. The shadows are starting to consume the already feeble light, but maybe you are just imagining it. His words, though, are as sharp as rocks. "My name is something to be earned".

If this was a chance of reconciliation, it went terribly wrong. You stand up and move to the door, without a second look. "I shall leave you to it. Goodnight".

But then, you reconsider. There is still a way, maybe, if you can swallow your pride. It might not get through him, but it could make you feel better.

You are almost on the door when you turn to him. Your words are like a river in flood.

"You know, I really am sorry for disobeying your orders. I was reckless. At the same time, I don't regret it a bit. Isn't that strange? I am still convinced it was the right thing to do. But I should have discussed it with you. Maybe I would have done it anyway, even if you didn't approve, but sneaking behind your back was vile. Just, please, know… I cared for your support more than my actions might have shown. And my satisfaction in putting the Queen in her place was utterly ruined by the fact that you were staring at me like the finest traitor of the lot. Thank you for the drink, It made me look like a fool even more. Goodnight."

You turn around, planning to leave as fast as you can. There will be time to consider all the things that escaped your mouth, later, in your bed, as another sleepless night comes to an end.

But you cannot leave. He has come after you, and he's holding you back, his hand on your wrist.

You look back at him in disbelief.

"Let's walk", he says, slowly. His eyes are such a mistery, he looks at you like he has been knowing you for his all life, and yet you know so little of him.

"Fine".

The two of you walk together in the empty corridors of the Little Palace. There's not a sound, not a soul. Beams of light are cutting through the windows, breaking the thick darkness which you step on.

He takes you outside, on a terrace leading to one of the courtyards. The fresh night air dissipates the last bits of anguish that linger in your heart. Behind you, the Little Palace shines in the night.

"You care so much to regain my trust. Why?"

He has been observing you for a while, already, but you only noticed now. You were captivated by the night sky, the moon you belong to, watching over you. Under this shimmering darkness, you feel you can reply honestly.

"I sometimes think you are the only one who could really understand this". You open your hand, and the glow seems to reflect the moon up above. He looks, charmed as he has always been by your power, and shakes his head.

"I wouldn't dare. A rare power like yours, I cannot begin to understand".

"Just like yours might be incomprehensible to most".

"Not to you?"

"I think I have known darkness all my life".

Your words leave him speechless. You realize something has changed in him, you feel it in the way he stands next to you, hands behind his back, composed as always, but with restless eyes, deep breathing.

When he finally speaks, he has regained control of his emotions, or this is what he wants you to think.

"You wield a majestic power, you know politics, and your insight has proven right more than once. We would be powerful allies".

"And the matter of trust?" you ask, your heart racing.

"You seem willing to work on that".

You look at him and see a wicked smile on his lips. There is tenderness and provocation, and oh, you like this game, but you'd never let him win. "This is not only on me. I require more clarity from you too. If we are to work together, we shall be equals".

You hold out your hand. He waits a moment, then he shakes it, but instead of letting you go, he holds it a bit longer, a bit closer. This is not an handshake anymore. But then he makes one of his witty remarks.

"Fine. You do know how to strike a bargain, princess".

You snort, annoyed, and take back your hand. "Please!"

You lean on the terrace and look once more at the darkened landscape, the silent woods, the silhouette of the Little Palace lying asleep under the moon. Finally, you turn to him, and you don't know this, but your smile, and the randomness of what you say next, it fatally breaks his heart .

"After all this melodrama, if I ever find out you betrayed my trust, General, that will be the end of you".

He smiles back, bitter and aching, but you mistake it for a smirk. His voice is a whisper that gets lost in the night.

"And the end of me shall be".

Taglist

@mysweetlittledesire@budugu@flostvs1508@aoi-targaryen@sakshi2005 @rainy-day-lady @sakuracheol @sentimental---circus @thelastemzy

[shawty-writes-a-little]

Wedding theatrics

general Kirigan x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k+

summary: they’re just both SO toxic but apparently married

Warnings: angst, sexual puns, cheating, toxic marriages

Most star crossed lovers don’t see their beloved after the fall for their love. Unlike Aleksander and his lady wife, who were still married. Years of marriage, marriage that began with a tender young love, blissful start which was dragged to the point of knives at each other’s throats. What began from the blossom of chivalrous lovebirds, went from lovers’ quarrels to outright battle enemies.

Their spitefulness of each other made them question if the love they once held for each other was a mere illusion. Aleksander truly felt betrayed by his intuition, being around this long, how could one make such a lovesick mistake of marrying perhaps the most perfervid, torrid, frustrating, soul crushing vulture of a woman in all of Ravaka. Y/n too, felt the same of him yet stupid, wasted the brightest of her youth after him. How could she have known though? The beginning, prime of their relationship and then marriage was all she’d ever wanted. She married the man she of her own choice, unlike those ladies of court who’re married off to some lord of some place. The general was all she’s hoped for and more. However with time, their clashing opinions of councils brought distaste into their married life. Aleksander tried to change that, separated her unit from his entirely so their decisions wouldn’t interfere. It was fine until one worked later than the other, half a fortnight worth of nights were spent sleeping alone. For the time being at least they weren’t fighting the rest of the time they were together. To love someone is to fight to fix the bothers. Until the war took place, it was all blissful again.

Worse battles were fought behind closed doors and council meetings between the lady general and the general himself.

“It is all my fault!” Aleksander exclaimed throwing his hands in air to portray exaggeration “You cannot handle authority whatsoever-your decision making power is like that of an illiterate toddler with a pistol and I have given you a seat at the council!”

“Shut your hole. Shut your hole will you?” Y/n said with a scoff as she crossed her arms not even slightly phased by his insult “You know all this melodrama because I refuse to send off more first army men for you to lead into slaughter? And who do you account yourself for? It is my father’s armies and my house’s role in warfare…I’ve had seats and bigger councils than yours!”

“All you’ve ever had to do for that is simply…be born. Given your skillset and mental capacity y/n, you wouldn’t even make a good peasant.” Aleksander responded, this entire scene unfolded amongst the other men of the council. There to discuss camps and aid management, who stood awkwardly in their places unsure wether to intervene or not.

The others present in that room was perhaps the only thing that stopped the two from giving to the sensual frustration all these arguments built between them. Aleksander spewed insults as his mind raced about devouring her on that very table, that is what generally shut her up. Him as well. “How dare you?!” Y/n seethed and lunged the wine glass in his direction. The red liquid poured over the torso portion of his kefta, y/n meant to drench his face but mistakenly aimed lower. Regardless she put the glass down at the table as he scorned.

“Have you lost your mind?!” He exclaimed, her antics never ceased to surprise him. Holding his drenched undershirt away to keep the wine from seeping further.

“Do not test my patience then” Y/n replied mildly neither of them having least bit of decency to behave affront the other council members. Aleksander’s men and hers has probably seen worse of the two.

“It’s a first army battle, we’ll have the first army men fight it.” Aleksander spoke sternly, he was just biased and before y/n nobody objected to his ways.

“Well then let the first army counsel handle it” she said with a shrug, “get out.”

“Excuse me?” He raises a sharp brow, “you don’t tell me what to do.” not hurt just amused, no one had ever in all his life spoke to him in such manner and he’d never been in a position to not do something about it.

“I am telling you what to do, you are the second army general, get out.” She said putting it simply with no frowned face nor harsh tone she was merely stating it, “Take your men with you, Ivan, come on” she gestures Ivan across the room to leave as well. Ivan, more scared of the lady general than his general was already walking to the door but stopped just a few steps before it receiving a disappointing look from Aleksander.

“You are impossible to reason with.” Aleksander said to y/n sighing deeply as he stormed out of the room.

“Thank you very much for your insight.”

With time and more harsh acquaintances, even that stopped, words like daggers stopped as their exchanges stopped entirely. The two completely separated their councils and meetings. Not to interfere with the other, different timings and finally different chambers. Their heated quarrels turned into mandatory distasteful greetings here and there at galas and dinners.

The two left each other to themselves. Their marriage became a sham held in name, annulling it wasn’t an option given both of them held their societal status to a high regard. Y/n didn’t pay much attention to fixing whatever it is they had, as feisty as lover her husband was she found it difficult to match up to him and fight for them, so she ran from that fight in a different direction entirely. Filling his absence with her ever loved status, her mere sign was an important piece of paper to a lot of lords and noblemen of country, counsels she’d been a cupbearer for her father when she was younger-she had one of her own now. She filled her lover’s absence with the authority and work load of her title and she did not hate it entirely.

Aleksander was rather hurt, constantly trying to mend the effect of flown words in all wrong ways. She wouldn’t account for his flowers after he’d demean her and her opinions at court. All his chivalry would amount to nothing after a point, he thought y/n was coldly unforgiving but he never considered the fact that the repetitive cycle of his actions that hurt her were…repetitive. He hated how she’d lost hope in the two of them, their marriage. The thought that she couldn’t care enough to restore what they once had scorned him from the inside because he’d never found himself in a place where he cared more than the other person did, in a long time. He was ready to resort to anything if she’d look at him with her eyes without any resentment again. Anything to laugh in her presence to cherish her the way she used to let him. Apparently he was forced to drift apart, against his will as she indulged herself in her work and titles. The battles and the country issues, selfishly enough he found the battle of her want inside of him far bigger than the ones going on time and time. Aleksander felt half painted by the love and affection she once showed him, it was as if she never continued. She was the despaired painter of the tapestry that was him.

Resorting to lowest of lows when nothing seemed to phase his wife, he resorted to infidelity. Just to see if she’d care then. If he spent a night or two in the embrace of another woman she’d be in an anguish of wanting him back and make this better with him. He assumed the knowledge of it could upset her enough to realise she still loved him enough to find the thought of him with someone else displeasing just as he would if it was the other way around. A part of him broke when even that didn’t seem to phase her. She didn’t initiate to mend things between them she just became more distant than before. As if him cheating didn’t concern her, the thought that she was that detached to him hurt him to a point of resentment for her. Aleksander emoted in extremes, the sight of her even in hallways irked him. He hated being that insignificant in the life of the lady was who was wholly the moon of his life even in a wretched house of a home he had in her. The windows of that home seemed forever shut for him.

Y/n was fixing the last of arrangements in her absence as she was on a trip to one of the neighbouring states for a wedding of one of the lord’s son. Being so intertwined in her work she generally didn’t attend such events: weddings, christenings, funerals. Not unless it was somebody of importance or close, most weren’t. Connections helped being Ravaka’s politics like all. Aleksander attended neither kind, important, unimportant, he always regarded himself higher than these petty gatherings of life and death. “And if a scroll comes from-“ she was standing by the entrance of the carriage, instructing a servant about something when a figure barged inside right past her as if she wasn’t standing there causing her to turn. Her expression fell at the thought of whatever new tantrum of her husband that was to unfold “What are you doing?”

“What?” Aleksander asked mildly as he took a seat inside, he was cloaked and dressed as though leaving for somewhere like her. “I’ve got a wedding to attend.”

“No you don’t.” Y/n said as she opened the door to the carriage a bit wider and leaned by it, “I am going.”

“And?” He asked raising a brow, the invitation always came on both their names but he never did as much as look at those fancy ones, waste of time.

“I am going so…you’re not. I’ll do well to fill in for your absence there.” She said gesturing him to come out of the carriage. The last thing she’d want was to go to the neighbouring state with him, the wedding was to last a couple of days like it usually did for the Royal ones. She was to stay at the castle, the thought of having to share chambers with him was dreadful.

“The wedding invitation was sent out to: General and family. Now I’m sure they wouldn’t be disgracing me considering an animal such as you my family but well…” he took in a sharp breath sighing in exaggeration.

“What reason do you have to attend?” Y/n asked furrowing her brows as she crossed her arms, “You never attend such things, what was it again? ‘I’m far too important and busy for wedding theatrics’” she said quoting him from a conversation they’d had about this once before.

“I have relations to maintain.” Aleksander gave a sly excuse with a shrug.

“No you don’t, you don’t maintain those, I do.” She said sternly crossing her arms. It was true, y/n attended these theatrics often so the general and his wife don’t seem too egoistical.

“And?” He said again, he knew those short unbothered questions-for-answers really got under her skin.

“Aleksander.” Y/n exhaled “You have no reason to attend, you once called the groom a wee clown with hay for brains.” She reminded him of his unfiltered encounters, he had so many and she remembered almost all given she had to clean up after it.

“Did I now?” He took a pause to remember it, he was sure he certainly did but this ordeal was getting a rise out of her so he couldn’t help but enjoy it “Can’t seem to remember. Besides I haven’t paid my in laws a visit in such a long time…” he trailed off, his ultimate reasoning was that. Around her family y/n was rather reserved with him and not as distant and crass because she wanted them to think she was really happy in the marriage with Aleksander. He didn’t see why he wouldn’t use that to his advantage.

“Oh” Y/n nodded as she put it together, this bastard, “You will be creating a scene there now won’t you…” she scoffed deadpanning herself, if her family wasn’t attending she’d bail right this second. So disappointed yet amused how good he played this. “Saints”

“Are you done with your interrogation?” Aleksander asked as he leaned back in the seat making some space for her to climb in but she rolled her eyes and walked away commanding to have another carriage for her, surely she wouldn’t be riding with him for an entire day worth of journey.

-

The carriages halted at an inn by the countryside, they’d already been riding for eight hours by then. Ivan was seeing to a safe supper being prepared as y/n stood by the small coal fire pit along with Fedyor and Genya. She was telling her red hair something about the countryside winters when David’s face fell to frantic expression, “Lady y/n.” He said with a gasp as he stood to her side trying to keep her from a view “it’s—saints I apologise but don’t look-the general…it’s not the best sight I would suggest-“ David went off as if it was end of the world. Given how reverse psychologies worked y/n and genya both looked back at the moment David told her not to.

Aleksander was only a few steps away, conversing with one of the maids of the inn, his fingers twirling through that girl’s hair, saying something that made her giggle, he too was smiling, as he stood rather too close for a married a man. Regardless y/n didn’t bother stare a moment longer as she made a disgusted face. Not hurt or angry, just mildly uncomfortable like any other person but a wife “what of it?” She said to David raising her brows and averting her attention back to warming her hands by the small fire, Aleksander was not that far off to not notice that his wife noticed and paced to them, “His scandals don’t bother me…” she trailed off with a shrug “What can you do? He is cheap like that.”

“Who is?” The general asked as he walked closer and in front of her by the small fireplace.

“You.” Y/n replied without missing a second.

“Ah yes of course” he said with a nod as David and Genya, shared an awkward glance at one another, excusing themselves with having to help Ivan and Fedyor they left not wanting to be witness the exchange between lady general and general. “Do you think the colourful language you use for me will do well with your mother and father at the wedding?”

“Why are you talking to me?” Y/n asked with a sigh looking away hoping he would leave her to herself as well, she was having a fine enough conversation with genya and David before he ruined it.

“Just curious…if you’d like we can keep this up at the wedding as well. Surely my in laws would be happy to know the state of our beautiful marriage.” Aleksander said tilting her head.

“What is the matter with you?” Y/n asked with a sigh as she looked at him, “Do not create a scene of any sort at the wedding, especially in front of my parent alright?”

“What? I want us to be perceived the way we are what’s wrong with that” he teased, the two often posed as a couple who could stand each other and were remotely in love for such events.

“Do you always have to show your class Aleksander?” Y/n asked as she narrows her eyes at him, “I don’t find this amusing, my father is eight and seventy years old I don’t want him to think his daughter is not in the best marriage possible.”

“Surely they lack of grandchildren will attest to that.” He joked huffing at it, the look she gave him clearly didn’t reciprocate how funny she found it “don’t get mad now we can always change that…” he said in a hushed tone leaning forward.

Y/n felt repulsed by it, whispered swooning and leaning as if she didn’t just see him trying to get it wet with an inn girl. Did he really believe she was another one of his low life subjects. She found the mere thought of intimacy with him sickening given it was something once they held sacred and the moment things went down hill he found it elsewhere. “Bloody degenerate.” Y/n muttered as she attempted to leave but he held her back by her arm, she was stopped from leaving but the glare she shot at his hands holding her bicep, took him a moment to let go off her.

“Apologies.” He said, not clarifying what exactly for. “I shall try and be-“

“Just don’t be the manwhore that you are for three days? Is that difficult?” Y/n asked cutting to no nonsense. He was impossible to deal with and like she mentioned, classless and cheap in her eyes.

“Am I supposed to feel threatened by you?” He asked with a scoff, not minding the particular word she called him, it wasn’t the first time so. When she didn’t reply but just looked at him confidently that she wasn’t just playing about with her words and he knew well enough she could make him more miserable than he already was if she wanted to. He sighed and complied “Fine.”

-

Upon reaching to the wedding castle, the grandeur was already being set up for the three day function when they entered y/n jumped into her father’s arms, her mother too, brother, her young nephew most of the family members she grew up with and only ever got to see in long time gaps. Aleksander just smiled, making small greetings since he had promised to comply. The sight of her, giddy and affectionate to the people she’d meet once a year and yet so rude and distant to her husband she saw everyday brought a dejecting feeling to him. And she looked beautiful that happy, she looked like herself again. Why couldn’t she have that with him? Why couldn’t they?

Once they two were shown their chambers for their time being at the wedding y/n sighed as the servant shut the door behind them, her smile fell. “Wonderful” she sighed as she looked around, a small table, giant balcony and one bed. The addition of cold in the atmosphere simply made it worse for her, same couldn’t be said for Aleksander.

—

HAIIIIIIIIIIIIII this is NOT a series this is just a two parter but the next part will be ANGSTY as fuck with fluff end if the comments grace me with their choice and feedback on this amskskskskksks anyways have a good day

let me know if you want to be tagged in the second part!