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kasagia · 7 months

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In the darkness

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! Alina's sister! Sun Summoner! reader Summary: After you and Alina destroyed the fold, she killed Aleksander and became queen at Nikolai's side, you took the place, tittle and chambers of the General of the Second Army. And then... strange things starts to happen in the darkness. Warning(s): obsessive behaviour; toxic relationship; voyeurism; Aleks manipulates the reader, the reader gives in to him; the reader is alone and needs someone *cough* her Darkling; fight; violence; dark reader; Word Count: 9,2 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You won. Alina won. The fold did not exist anymore… as well as he. Ravka was safe. And the new royal couple was supposed to provide it with peace and splendor. That's what they were saying.

Nobody talked about the fallen. About the thousands of Grishas still living in fear. About thousands were imprisoned by Fjerdans and Shu-Hans who experimented on them.

All that mattered was that the Darkling was dead. The darkness disappeared. The shadows left with their last summoner, whose body he begged you to burn.

And maybe, after all, he was cruel. Maybe he knew that despite everything he had done, you still loved him, and his request (as well as his staring at you as if you were his only light and the only one thing he wanted to look at before his death) would completely break your already battered heart.

Maybe that was his last act of manipulation and control over you. A pleasure he couldn't slip out of his fingers. Maybe seeing you sobbing over him was the last goal he set for himself, before he leaves this world after the centuries he has lived. Centuries of constant fighting and flight. Centuries of leaving in his own shadows, in hatred, each time he looked at the fold, he was reminded that he wasn't able to achieve his goal.

That he was utterly alone...

Just as you are now.

Or maybe he just loved you, and you didn't want to admit it to yourself...

And now, laying on the bed in which he used to sleep, on the bed he used to hold you, on the bed he spent with you many sleepless nights and long, late mornings, you know that no matter what renovation this room will have, it will always remind you of him.

Your Aleksander... your equal... your monster.

You shiver as the cold, winter air comes to his... your room. You get up from the bed and walk to the window to close the door.

You look at the palace gardens and immediately remind yourself of the days before you found out he was Black Heretic, before that fatal Winter Fete.

Two years ago, Aleksander was chasing you around gardens, laughing, snowballs fighting, and doing all the stupid things he couldn't do in the daylight.

Two years ago, your life looked like a fairytale, and you were blessed to live in it. Now it is much closer to tragedy. And knowing how the events would turn out, you would have definitely cherished those simple, peaceful days with Aleksander by your side more while they lasted.

You sigh, absently stroking your right hand where Aleksander ordered David to physically embed the amplifier into you a few months ago.

You were pathetic. Missing the man who manipulated you, who hurt your sister, who wanted to kill your friends, who hurt Genya... but that was why you couldn't fully hate him. He did everything to achieve his goal. He hurt everyone who stood in his way.

Except you.

Never you.

And it hurt more than if he had physically hurt you.

He always held you up as his equal. The son of a bitch even had his kefta re-stitched to have gold embroidery to represent your power. He wore your combined colours with pride. Just like you did before you discovered how many sweet lies he had fed you since the day you first met him.

Tears come to your eyes as you remember how that fucking bastard, moments before Alina drove the shadow sword through his abdomen, lunged at his Nichevo'yas to stop them from attacking you. You saw the vulnerability and the fear in his eyes until your light drove the shadow monsters away from you. And relief, which was replaced by painful shock when Alina took advantage of his moment of inattention and killed him.

It had never occurred to you to hurt Alina before... except that fateful day.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks with your hand and turn to go back to the bed. You had a meeting with several colonels, including Fedyor and Ivan. The two were also torn apart by the war.

At least Fedyor still has his Ivan alive to atone for his sins. - you think bitterly, even jealousy, as you somehow manage to fall asleep in this big, empty, cold bed.

And when you close your eyes, the candle that was lit on the nightstand that once belonged to Aleksander goes out as you fall into a deep sleep.

If you had been a little more alert, you would have seen shadows that created a curtain covering the window, thus blocking the moonlight from entering your chamber.

"I have no intention of punishing them, Alina." you tell your sister as you work at the war table. Aleksander's plans were somehow still preserved. And you review them, updating and changing them according to your needs.

"They fought alongside the Darkling. What kind of general are you? What example will you set by not punishing those who defied the crown and followed their Black General?"

"That's why I have no intention of doing anything about it, your majesty. You were Grisha yourself before you lost your powers. Whose side would you fight for—the king who hates them or the general who gave them a safe place? And please try to put aside our personal prejudices and see the whole thing, not just a little peace through the prism of your hatred towards him, because we both know damn well that Aleksander was many things. A good commander was one of them."

"I never wanted to be a Grisha." Alina says this with pain in her eyes. You know this very well. You wouldn't have wanted to be a Sankta or general either... if it weren't for Aleksander.

"But you were. You can't just forget about that, Sol Koroleva."

"You're definitely not making it easy for me." she sighs tiredly, smiling at you. She sits down in the chair next to you and takes your hand. "If I could turn back time and... not bring Mal back to life and not lose my power, I would. I wouldn't leave you alone with this, you know, right?"

"I know... but that's not how things went..." you say, swallowing, as you let go of the papers and look at your sister. "But that's okay. I will keep an eye on your children and grandchildren... Maybe one of them will become the next Sun Summoner? Who knows?" you laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but by the look Alina gives you, you know that your tone wasn't as carefree as you wanted it to be.

"Y/N... I'm sorry." you interrupt her before she begins to pity you, before her compassion overwhelms you to the point where you sink into your own pain and suffering, which inevitably entails an eternity ahead of you. And that was just the beginning.

"You don't have to... I... I can always die somehow. I don't have to live forever."

"We both know that's not in your blood to give up. You will fight till the end... till Grishas and Ravkans will live as equals in a safe country."

"Maybe yes... or maybe I will throw it all to hell and go around the world. I remember that Kaz once proposed to me to join their little group of thieves. It could be fun."

You both laugh at that. Then Alina gives you a sad, apologetic look before asking you a very dangerous and… hurting question.

"Do you miss him? Aleksander?"

A dead silence falls between you after her whispering question. As if his name were something forbidden to say out loud between you two. You play with the sleeve of your white kefta with gold embroidery, wondering how to answer this obvious question.

"Sometimes... but I guess it's only because I don't want to... to be alone like him..."

"Did you love him? At the day I killed him?" she asks, assuming that you stopped loving him at the moment he stopped breathing; at the moment when his black, poisoned by Merzost heart stopped beating… as it was just that simple for you to forget about him. The man who made you who you are now. The man who was first to show you how extraoridnary you are. Who understood you more than your sister - your supposed closest person in the world.

"I care more to have someone by my side through all of this that's about to happen… someone who will stay for longer than almost a century. I guess I'm starting to understand why he was chasing after us… why he wanted us by his side in his damn glorious purpose."

"He was chasing after you. He only cared about you. Not only because you were a Sun Summoner." she says it so lightly and so obviously that you start to wonder if she's deliberately trying to break you.

But if Aleksander taught you anything, it was how to keep your true emotions deep inside your heart. So you put your lips into a mocking smile and reply to her in a joking tone.

"Maybe. We will never find out. Anyway, I don't want to."

Fedyor's and Ivan's arrival rescued you from this unconvenient conversation. You nod to Alina as she leaves. She gives Ivan a hating, untrusyful look before guards close the door behind her. You look at the two heartrenders.

"It's good to see you both. I have some questions about these plans, and as general Kirigan's closest people, I assume, you both can explain some things to me, which I don't quite get right now."

You clear your throat, trying to forget about what you and Alina were talking about and focus on what the two men in front of you are saying. But it's hard to look at the Dark General's notes and plans and just not think of your Aleksander... Especially when those damn wooden soldiers are just as spread out on his war table as they were on the night of the Winter Fiesta when you run away from him.

And you have neither the heart nor the strength to move it to another place…

"Fedyor, can you leave us both for a while? You can wait for Ivan behind the door." you say after you've gotten through most of the stuff. Fedyor gives you a surprised look but doesn't question your order. He goes out, leaving you with Ivan, who has been giving you an unfavourable, almost hostile look since he sat down in the chair. You wouldn't care if the situation didn't require you to cooperate with him. After all, he was Aleksander's right-hand man. He probably knew the most about war tactics in the entire Second Army. And now that the fold was gone and you had to defend and fortify yourselves on all fronts, you would need all the help you could get. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's your problem?" you ask the heartrender, watching him carefully.

You both stared at each other for a moment. Ivan tries to hold back something, but the moment he notices Aleksander's ring—the only souvenir you let yourself leave after him—something inside him breaks.

"How dare you sit in his chair, having his tittle, want to do exactly the same things in the Second Army, using the same tactics as he did? You all are no different from him. Actually, you are much worse, and you call him a monster when everything he did was for us. For our safety, so that we can finally break free from the power of Otkazat'syas."

"I know you were loyal to him, but..."

"He had done nothing wrong. And you know it." he cuts you off before you can say anything else. The feeling of guilt awakens within you again, the uncomfortable lump in your throat every time you talk to someone about him growing stronger again. "I hope you also know that you and your sister destroyed everything he was working at. That Ravka will spill blood under your rule. That Lantsov prince will be the same as his father, as every king from their dynasty was."

"Be careful how you talk to me. I am your general now, Ivan. You should probably get used to it, before I change my mind and let Alina execute you." you say it coldly and grab a glass from the table to drink the whisky. "You can leave now."

"Of course, general." he said coldly, but before he stood up to leave, he put a black envelope on your desk.

"What is that?" you ask him, but he just bows to you and leaves. Only when the door closes behind him with a bang do you allow yourself to take the envelope in your hands.

Seeing Aleksander's seal—the eclipsed sun—makes you release the envelope from your hand as if it was burning you. You let it fall to the desk; your eyes focused only on it.

You hold your breath as your fingers land on the seal and stroke it tenderly. You remember the first letter you received from him... right after your first night together, when he had to leave the Little Palace for a while on important matters. He wrote to you every day until he came back again, heading straight into your arms and ignoring the fact that the General of the First Army and the colonels were waiting for him in the council chamber.

With trembling hands, you take the dagger and cut the envelope at the top so as not to break the last seal he left behind and get into the contents of the envelope.

A pendant falls from the envelope with a clatter onto the table. You leave the envelope with the letter and take the pendant in your hands, looking at it carefully.

It is a silver, convex oval with some vines engraved on the front, decorated with small, round pieces (your favourite gemstone). Initials are engraved on the back: A.M. You huff, realising that even in death, he wanted to make sure you were his in some way. And you're about to put the pendant down and hide it somewhere, where you would never find it again, but then suddenly you press something and it opens.

You gasp as you see what's hidden inside. Bone. A medium-sized, most likely from a wrist, finger, or other small part of the skeletal system.

You rummage through the envelope, and, apart from the letter, you find a small note that was probably attached to the necklace.

In case you need a reminder of your real power...

You lift the bone and feel your power flow through you, amplified. You sigh, feeling just like those months ago when his skin pressed against yours as he let you draw on his empowering abilities. You feel a tear roll down your cheek as you tremble with an overwhelming, long-forgotten feeling.

A knock on the door makes you panic, opening your desk drawer and gathering all your items into it. You close the drawer just as Zoya walks in, followed by your colonels. You rub your forehead, mentally getting ready for the next meeting.

However, you can't stop thinking about the envelope and necklace from Aleksander hidden in the drawer.

And if you were more observant, you would notice how shadows are hiding in the corner of the war room, watching you attentively, waiting for the right moment when they can come out of their hiding place. Or at least a bee that flew out of an open window.

You lie in your bed late at night. You stopped trying to fall asleep a long time ago. You laied on your back, breathing calmly with your eyes closed as you were wondering about the new informations from the camps close to the border.

The war was comming. You had right. Aleksander had right. Fjerdans and Shu-Hans wanted to use occasion and attack Ravka, since a fold has gone and now nothing stopped them from attack a West Ravka. If you lost your ports and supplies of food, raw materials and gold, you will lose that war and many will lose their lifes.

You were laying there, wondering about your next move in upcoming war. You shiver suddenly, feeling oddly. A strange chill spread through your body as you went into a more alert mode.

Subconsciously, you look around in the dark, trying to spot the dark, familiar irises. You're doing it under some irrational delusion that he is able to observe you even when he is dead. That he can watch your every move even though you watched his body burn...

Although he has already proved many times in his long, many-centuries life that he is capable of anything he wants...

With a flip of your wrist, a ball of light appears in a room. There was no one. Just you and your paranoya You frown and remove the ball of light as you lay back on the bed.

You sigh heavily, lying on your side. You watch a candle burning on the nightstand on the side that used to be Aleksander's. You watch the fire for a moment, admiring the colours of the flame and how it goes along with a soft wind from the opened window, and then blow it out. You close your eyes, listening to your surroundings, and just as you're about to drift off into blissful unconsciousness, you hear something like a cold whisper in your ear, which makes you shiver.

They are going to lose. They can't rule this country. They know nothing about the pain of war.

That tought appear in your mind, sounding extremaly like somebody you used to know very well... you shake your head. You were not going to imagine his voice on your head. You weren't go mad, were you?

Besides, that was a stupid tought. You will figure it out with Alina and the rest, just as you always do. Grishas will be safe. You will sacrifice your life to make it happen. Horrifyingly, you realise that someone before you has taken a similar oath.

Yet still, you can't help but look at the side of your chamber where Aleksander's letter is, hidden in your desk's drawer. You are so tempting to read it, even after all that happened between you both.

"Get out of my head." you whisper to yourself, as he was still linked with you somehow. As he was still able to appear in a room with you at any second.

You missed him. You admit it to yourself in the darkness of the bedroom you two used to share. But that didn't mean that you would bring him back in some way. He was too dangerous for the good of other people and too unpredictable. Irronicaly, he cared too much. And you were afraid that you were inevitably walking in his path; you were in the same place as he was all those years and centuries ago. But, contrary to him, you will have no one by your side. You will be utterly alone.

You try fall asleep, closing your eyes and ignoring the tears that fall on your pillow. If you learned anything from Aleksander, it was to let no one witness your suffering. They wouldn't understand your pain anyway.

There were no others like you. And there will never be ever again…

Against your better judgement, you quickly get up from the bed, and, before you can change your mind, with a ball of white light in your hand, you walk to the desk, illuminating your path.

You open the drawer and pull out that damned letter, hoping that reading it will give you some kind of closure you need.

You hold it with trembling hands, trying to ignore the fact that Aleksander's familiar handwriting was less refined and more cursive and simpler. There were also black traces of his blood in some places on the page. Even before you start reading, your heart sinks as you think about how Merzost was slowly killing him, as he was completely alone after Baghra's death—as alone as you are now.

And the first line is enough to bring the first pitiful tears to your eyes.

Moya milaya. Moya soverenyia,

The damn bastard knew you would take over his position. He was probably having a lark in hell right now, watching you cry over his letter, how you regretted every decision you made that got you here, and how you tried so hard to hate him with all your heart, but you just simply couldn't. And that made you hate yourself more when, despite everything, you entered the trap he had prepared specially for you while he was still living and clutched the letter in your hands, trying to read it despite the tears constantly appearing in your eyes and blurring your vision.

He wrote to you what you have already heard. That he isn't sorry, that he would do the exact same things except that he would make you his equal, that he wouldn't let you escape his grasp so easily, that he would kill all your loved ones just to be your only shelter where you could go in case of any danger, or simply when you were too overwhelmed by loneliness, like he was many times in his very long life.

And you should hate him. You should be disgusted by this toxic relationship, by his obsessive desire for possession, and by his fear of abandonment. And you could already feel yourself being filled with spite and resentment towards this man, a man who had ruined the relatively peaceful lives of you and your sister... But as you read the last lines of his letter, your feelings towards him became more unclear than before reading that damn letter.

I will be waiting for you. With open arms.

Maybe time will help you realise that there is no other way and that my actions will be yours in the future… that I was not the villain in this story, even if I seemed to be a monster to you, my little Sankta.

Maybe you will finally come to accept that you and I are unity and that we belonged to each other even before the saints decided to create the two of us.

Eya fyela chi(I love you), moya solnyshka.

I always did.

Yours,

Aleksander

You didn't sleep anymore that night. Instead, you lie in bed, your thoughts filled with this damn man who, even after his death, continues to abuse your already bleeding heart for him.

Midnights become your afternoons, that were the hours when your brain works best. You stoped burning candles at night. Surprisingly, you were thinking much better when you were in complete darkness, where the only light comed from the moon shining through the open balcony door.

You spent many nights in bed writing in a notebook, taking notes and plans that came to you as the moon hung in the sky and most of the Little Palace fell asleep.

It has become your little ritual. You sipped kvass or whisky, thinking of military tactics and other manoeuvres in case Ravka was attacked by its neighbors. You often had Aleksander's old notes spread around you. And even more often, you twirled his necklace in your fingers as you pondered over your plans.

You stopped visiting Alina in the Grand Palace. You were less and less likely to be seen by her side. But you were almost always in Alexander's library, the war room, and the training field, looking after the young Grishas who trained under the supervision of Ivan, Fedyor and Zoya.

Without knowing why, you always waited until dusk. It was your favorite time and you couldn't even say why…

Maybe if you noticed that every time you fell asleep, tired, over your notebook, thoughts that didn't belong to you suddenly appeared on the paper; maybe if you noticed how your rooms were covered with more and more shadows night after night, blocking out the moonlight, to get you to sleep faster; and maybe if you noticed how the blanket wrapped tighter around you as you drifted off to sleep and your forehead was tickled by the touch of something soft and warm; then you would realise what was inevitably to come.

Or rather, who kept his eyes on you each night, hidden in the darkness and shadows of the chamber...

Kissing someone else's lips seemed sacrilegious to you. You felt like you were doing something wrong, like you were desecrating and breaking all moral laws. But after all, you were a free, single woman, a general leading her people to war.

You could have relaxed and slept with some handsome Inferni who offered to worship his saint, couldn't you?

As it turned out, you couldn't.

You kissed the man hungrily and threw off his kefta. The moment he reached for the buttoms of your own, he unexpectedly stumbled and fell straight into the spear that was in the rack for swords and other weapons.

You stood there in shock for a moment, wondering how on earth he did this. And if you had been more attentive, you would have noticed how the shadows quickly fled from your gaze, and two dark eyes watched intently as you helped Inferni stop the bleeding enough for him to make it to the healers' tent.

You sigh in frustration as the man disappears from your sight. You clean up his blood and wash your hands before taking off your clothes.

It gives you chills. Not because the cold air of the tent hits your hot skin, but because you feel a slight tickle at the most sensitive point of your neck.

You turn and look around the tent carefully.

For the past few weeks, as soon as you left the Little Palace, you had a strange feeling that something was fleetingly brushing against you from time to time. The feeling of this strange, ghostly touch accompanied you both day and night, whenever you were alone with your thoughts. You thought it was some kind of paranoia and tried to brush this feeling off. After all, no one could touch you if you were clearly alone in the room, with no sign of another living soul.

Once you're sure you're alone, you rub your hands over your arms. Your arousal and desire quickly fade as you remember the battle that awaits you tomorrow—the first as a general of the Second Army. You make sure your weapons and combat kefta are ready and in place before you go into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.

A few hours later, as you lie there, dreaming deeply, your tent fades to black. From the shadows emerged none other than Aleksander.

The man slowly walked towards you, careful not to make any move that would increase your vigilance. Ever since you left the walls of the Little Palace, it has become easier and easier for him to make his way to you, thanks to the bond he established between the two of you by giving you a piece of his bone in a necklace.

It boiled inside him when he saw you with another man. He acted rashly and instinctively, pushing him onto the spear. He was glad that you were careless enough not to notice his presence.

You weren't ready. Not yet.

And this time, he knew better than to push you forcefully into his plan.

"My little Sankta." he whispers, his hand gently brushing your curves hidden from his eyes under the blanket.

He doesn't do anything inappropriate. He would never take advantage of you or touch you against your will... well, at least not in any invasive way. He had several scenarios prepared in his head about how the night would go, when you would finally admit your true feelings and abandon the façade of a righteous Sankta of Ravkans and Grishas.

"Soon you'll realise what you're really missing." he whispers as his fingers tips caress the skin of your collarbones.

He picks up the necklace he gave you that you wore around your neck. He lets his shadows surround you, allowing the moonlight to shine on you enough for the silver pendant to reflect it, making it seem like it was glowing, as if it were a source of your powers.

"I will wait for you… until you finally come to me willingly and accept the obvious truth—that we belong together. I promise you, moya milaya, I won't let you forget this even for a moment. You're mine. You were mine the moment you entered that damn tent—the moment our eyes met before you went on the ship through the fold. You can't deny the connection between us. And soon, you will come to accept that you need a monster by your side. That without me, there will only be suffering, loss, and eternal struggle waiting for you. I've spent centuries struggling with all of this and much more… let's see how long this charming and annoying stubbornness of yours will last, lapushka. I have all the time on earth to watch you struggle with the hatred of this world all alone…"

He pulls the blanket tighter around you and takes the opportunity to inhale your scent, which he had missed so much during those months he had been hanging between the worlds of the living and the dead. He clung to his life with his claws... just to be this close to you again. And he knew he would do the exact same thing in a heartbeat if it led him close to you.

"And in time, when you realise that your little friends of yours are not enough for you, I will be back to you. And I will take you into my arms without hesitation. We are destined to be together. Sweet dreams, moya soverenyia." he whispers and places a tender kiss on your forehead.

You jump out of bed, screaming. You take a few quick breaths and put your hand to your mouth, trying to calm yourself down and not let the tears fall. Your tent is in complete darkness as you try to calm down from your nightmare in which all of your Grishas died in the battle, in which everyone blamed you and started to hunt you and chase after you, just like the king once chased after Aleks...

You let yourself cry silently into your pillow, unaware of the figure sitting next to you and a lifting hand that was just above you, moving as if stroking your back soothingly.

Eventually, you fall asleep, shaking. The shadow of your enemy and lover watches over you and keeps an eye on you without you being even slightly aware of it.

Two years, four months, one week and three days. That's how long the war with Fjerda and Shu Han lasted.

That's how long it took them to take over Ravka.

You have failed. Both the First and Second Armies.

Nikolai was dead. Alina was either dead or in hiding like you, although judging by the recent public execution of Zoya and Alina's other guards, you suspect they had her locked up somewhere until they caught you.

And they were doing very well, considering you were currently running through the forest, escaping from a group of Drüskelles.

You ran through the forest, the cold air stinging your hot cheeks as you made your way through the snowdrifts, occasionally sending a ball of light behind you to daze your pursuers and lose them, if only for a moment. But covering up your tracks was the worst thing—a nuisance worse than the cold seeping into your bones through your soaked clothes.

You hear a gunshot. You groan as the bullet bounces off your kefta, most likely adding another bruise to your collection.

Then everything happens quickly. You are surrounded and forced to fight with both your power and your melee. You're doing quite well when suddenly one of them twists your arm. You groan in pain and use one hand to summon a cut, but it is so weak that it only reaches the lesser half of the men.

As if in slow motion, you see one of the Drüskells pointing a gun at you. Then the clearing becomes dark. You step back in fear and stumble upon the body of one of the men you killed.

Everything goes quiet. There is a deathly silence in which you can only hear your wheezing and breathing. You summon your light and dispel the shadows to see the last person you expected to see... at least when you are still alive.

"But... I saw your death... I watched you burn..." you manage to stammer.

Aleksander just walks towards you, like it was a casual thing for him to do. His black kefta with gold embroidery is intact, at least compared to yours, which is blackened from bullets and patched in a few places. He looks practically like the day he died... except his face is devoid of black scars.

"Won't you even say hello to me, my Y/N?" he asks maliciously and extends his hand for you to take it and stand up with his help. You've seen this scene before. You've been in this situation before, and you promised yourself that you would never step into the same river again.

"You should be dead." you snap at him coldly and stand up on your own without his help. You see him frown as he takes a closer look at your dilapidated and miserable state as you try to move away from him as far as you can.

"Moya lapushka... do you think I would let something like death to keep me apart from you? That your little Sol Koroleva could ever kill me? After I lived a hundreds lifes? Fake a hundred deaths?" he asks mockingly, walking over to you. He cups your cheek in his hand and strokes it tenderly with his thumb. "No. I have too much experience with eternity, milaya. I promised you that you and I will change the world. I intend to keep that promise. As well as the one where I will always come back to you, remember?"

"You were here all this time... you watched me..."

"Simply keeping an eye on you." he interrupts you, and you give him a mad look, knowing full well that he's lying as you realise that all the random things and disasters that were happening around you were his fault... just like the few times you felt someone's ghostly touch on you. "Well... maybe I had also done a little bit more. But don't dramatise... after all, I have to look after what's mine."

"I was never yours." you say furiously, causing a hostile tension to arise between the two of you.

His presence brings you some relief, despite everything. But you know this feeling too well; you know HIM too well to let him manipulate you so he can use you in his plans again.

"Leave me. Live your life. I doubt anyone would be insane enough to resurrect you a second time." you growl angrily and run past him, hitting his shoulder with yours.

Before you can get away, he grabs your elbow. You hiss in pain, making him automatically let go of you. But he steps closer to you and carefully grabs your wrist, observing the blood seeping from your forearm and the swollen, bruised elbow—the result of your hand being twisted and falling to the ground—and the hard roots of the tree that had somehow broken through the now-red snow.

"You need a healer." he says calmly. He seems worried, as he is trying to stop the bleeding from your wound.

"I can handle it. Let me go." you say firmly. His dark-brown eyes meet yours, and you mentally curse yourself for how they can still charm you.

"Let me help you." he says it with such tenderness that you want to immerse yourself in his sweet words again, to surrender to that attraction that has always been present between you. "You don't have to be alone, moya milaya."

"I'm not alone." you deny quickly. However, you give in partially when the logical part of you allows him to give you a band-aid; this is something you are willing to accept from him.

"Aren't you, Y/N? Don't you feel a the weight of the fate of all Grishas on your beautiful, delicate shoulders? Haven't you misssed me all these single nights? When you were dreaming of my touch, of my voice..."

"And where were you when I really needed you?! When your people were dying on the borders! When innocent people died when they took Ravka! Where the hell were you then?!" you shout at him in anger and move away from him before he can tie a makeshift sling around your arm from the black shawl he untucked from around his neck.

"Making sure that YOU will not kill yourself, while playing a hero." he replies calmly, his gaze unwavering on you as his composure throws you even further off balance.

"If you care about me so much, why didn't you stand by my side? Why didn't you help me save Grishas?"

"You said yourself that you don't need a monster. That you can handle it perfectly well on your own, little Saint. I told you and tried to warn you that you can't do it on your own, and neither can I. But you had to be stubborn. These are your words: 'Let them come.' I did. I let them come. Are you satisfied?"

"You let all these people die to just prove your point?" you ask, shocked. He takes advantage of your momentary lapse in vigilance to bandage your arm and place it in a sling made of his black shawl.

"No. I let all these people die to make you see the truth that you are trying to avoid so hard."

"Which is?"

"Don't pretend, moya milaya. I am a patient man, but we lost enough time. Can you honestly claim that you are against me? That you would choose these fools over me again? That you didn't wish to have an equal again? Someone who will stand by your side no matter what? Someone who will protect you? I can be all of this to you and even more. All you have to do, lapushka, is accept that we are all we need. That you and I was enchanted to unite a long time ago. I want you to see all these things from my side of the story, to understand why I did what I did, and why I intend to continue what I have planned."

He talks so smoothly about death, as if it were nothing. And you would have the right to feel outraged by this fact and hate him again if the smell of the metallic blood of the people who hunted you wasn't in the air. People you killed without blinking an eye.

As he caresses your cheek tenderly and stares at you with affection and an understanding you haven't seen in anyone else's face since his death, you can't help but wonder... if he was actually right when he said that in time his actions would be yours.

He leans closer to you. Your noses brush as he rests his forehead against yours. You shiver, feeling his warm breath on your cheek.

"Aleksander..." you whisper shakily as his scent reaches you, his warmth warming your body, frozen from the cold and the exertion of running away. You feel like you're just realising that he's really here. That he's alive.

And you welcome the familiar tingle of your power inside you that he brings back to life with his amplifier powers as his lips capture yours.

And you wanted to move away. Really. You wanted to remain indifferent towards him and laugh at him for still feeling something for you. Scold him for even hoping that you would just melt back into his touch after what happened between you, how he hurt you, and how obsessive and possessive he was.

But all you do is moan against his lips as you respond to his kiss.

It's not one of those hungry, greedy kisses stolen in moments when you were completely alone and couldn't fight the growing tension between you any longer and just had to release it by consuming each other with your desires.

It's gentle, so much so that you're afraid that the butterfly feeling of his lips on yours will disappear in any moment and you'll find that he never came back, that he was just a sweet, cruel delusion of your exhausted mind.

But the moment he tangles one of his hands in the hair at the back of your head and puts the other on your waist to press you against the tree so gently as to not hurt you accidentally, you know it's real. And you can't stop responding to his kiss or pretending that you don't want to caress his lips with yours just as passionately. Or pretend that the thought of pulling away isn't sinful to you.

You pull away from each other after a long moment. Not far, though. His nose brushes against yours as you breathe heavily, both of you with your eyes closed, drinking in the other's warmth and scent after so many years of fighting with each other and your desires... after so many years of being utterly alone.

Your shaky breaths come out of your mouths in grey clouds and merge together. Only now do you notice how warm he is compared to you.

"Come. You can't stay here." he says, taking off his warm coat with black fur sewn to the hood. He puts it on you and pulls the hood over your head.

"You don't need to..." he interrupts you, picking you up in bridal style. He holds you close to his chest and walks in a direction unknown to you, a clear plan etched on his face as he scans the surroundings for any danger in your path. "Hey! Put me down! I can walk by myself! Besides, I don't want to go anywhere with you!" you protest, struggling in his arms.

"I know, milaya. Rest. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to. I'm just making sure you will be safe when I'm gone. That's why I'm taking you to Grishas' camp. They will cure you there. Besides, your followers anxiously await your return, my little Saint. You are their only hope now."

"When you gone?" you ask slightly panicked and shift your gaze to him.

The weight of responsibility settles on your shoulders once again as you realise how many lives are counting on you... and the one person you can look to for support is, inconveniently, now something of an enemy to you.

But... can you feel towards your enemy the way you feel for him? Can you kiss an enemy as passionately as you did just a second ago? Can an enemy look at you with such care and adoration?

"Do you wish me to stay with you, lapushka?" he glanced at you briefly, just enough to ask you his question.

A dead silence falls between you. You don't need words to understand each other. And it was something that had always both terrified you and made the bond between you more and more irresistible. He knows the answer to your question. He knows you'll never admit it out loud. Or at least not at this moment.

Despite all this, he still holds you close. He leans down to place a kiss on your temple and whispers in your ear:

"I am... a very patient man, Y/N... I can wait, and I will. You will come to me yourself. And when you did... you wouldn't be able to resist or deny the truth about your feelings for another damn second. I will have you by my side. I can assure you that it will happen sooner than you think or are willing to admit."

You don't argue with him anymore. You just don't have the strength. Instead, you lean against him and fall asleep, wrapped in his scent, his warm coat, and his arms that make you feel safe. You decide to hate yourself later for what you feel right now.

After so many years, months, weeks, and days of fighting for your people and country completely on your own, you could afford the comfort of feeling his arms around you for just another few minutes, couldn't you?

It's been three months since you last saw him.

He left you at Grishas' camp just before the sun rose with a kiss on your forehead and a promise that you would meet again and that you would call for him again. Which you highly doubted. You already despised yourself and him enough to stay away from him... or at least pretend that's what you wanted.

During this months, you managed to save and lose many people—many good soldiers. And although you don't want to admit it, this time it makes you even more aware of the truth that Aleksander was trying to drill into your head before you destroyed the fold.

You wandered around like a child in the fog, trying to keep your morality, set an example for people, and play the role of a Sankta who abhors all evil and darkness. Only he had survived enough to know that morality could only be keept in human conditions—when you didn't have to worry about food, a warm place to sleep, or whether every breath you took wouldn't be your last.

But what really broke you wasn't the constant death, suffering, and screaming around you. It was the news of Alina's death.

It was this terrible emptiness, this feeling of helplessness and loneliness that grew inside you with each day, with each Grishas lost, with each drop of blood that soaked into your kefta.

And then you gave up.

"You won! Do you hear me?! YOU WON!" you screamed in your room at the camp after you returned from another mission to rescue imprisoned Grishas, which ended in the bloodiest of all. Which ended with the death of the last person you cared about. "Just come here… I can't… Aleksander, please. Please, I need you."

In your rage, you throw the bottle of alcohol against the wall and scream, falling to your knees. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself and cry, feeling the dried blood on your clothes.

You have enough. You had enough of this war. You didn't want to see your friends lose their lives. You were fed up with constant wars, fighting, and deaths around you.

You only knew one thing: you couldn't stand this alone. You simply must have had him by your side again Somoeone who will stay by your side and simply just be there for you. Someone who won't require you to save the world all by yourself.

"Aleksander, I beg you... please..." you whisper desperately while holding a pendant with his bone tightly in your hand. Maybe the fact that you never parted with that stupid necklace was a sign of what was inevitably to come.

Your failure. Your ruin.

But still, all you can do is melt into his arms as he comes to you through your bond and embraces you, pulling your shaking body into his lap and as close to him as possible.

"Shhh... it's okay, moya milaya, you are safe." he whispers in your ear as he holds you close to his chest with a hand on you mouth so you can make a sound. "As long as I am here, nothing will happen to you. You are not alone anymore and you never will be again, lapushka."

He strokes your hair and whispers words of comfort. A sweet nothing meant to calm you down. You still can't tell whether he does it out of love or because he needs you in his plans. And the scariest thing was that you didn't care as long as he held you, stayed by your side and didn't let you be alone.

If you were any less grief-stricken, you would wonder about the irony of this situation. The irony of how he foretold your fate. How he fulfilled his promise. How he became your only shelter.

"I will take care of everything. I'm not going anywhere. It is you and me, my Y/N. It's only you and me against them all. And we are all we need anyway. I will take good care of you, solnyshka. No more tears; no more lies and betrayals. Our life together is getting started exactly right now. And I can already promise you it will be an incredible future... moya tsaritsa. Ravka will be ours. We will free our people. We will made all of them pay for what they did to our kind. Grishas will enter their golden age under our rules. Nothing will stop us."

"Just... please come back." you sob into him. He tightened his arms around you and pressed his lips against your temple.

"I'm on my way, lapushka." he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shiver as the warmth of his arms suddenly disappears, and you're left alone, kneeling on the cold floor. You couldn't afford even the slightest remorse. All you could think about, and all you could wait for, was the moment he would come back here in the flesh.

You realised that loneliness was too dangerous an enemy for you that you (or anyone) were unable to defeat. Aleksander has been patiently waiting for years for you to come to this conclusion. A conclusion he understood the moment you fled the Little Palace with Alina and the crows, just before he could have a proper chance to propose to you.

But this time, he won't make that mistake again. He won't let you go of his grip once you came back to him.

The world needs a monster.

You understood his words the moment you created your own fold. A fold of white, pure light which killed anyone who tried to walk past it.

You saw the fear in everyone's eyes. Even your Grishas, whom you swore to protect. Only Aleksander's dark irises stared at you with admiration. Only he doesn't turn away from you, doesn't show any traces of dread.

Only he was brave enough to walk to you, and after that, he kissed you greedily after you all realised you won. Ravka belonged to Grishas. And the new fold that you create will make sure no one will ever think of attacking your people again.

And now you were standing in front of the mirror in the Little Palace. Your people bravely dismantled what was left of the Grand Palace and worked to rebuild the house of Grishas and expand it.

You were entering a new era. And the flags with the eclipse of the sun that now fluttered on the masts of the palace reminded you of that, as did your black and gold dresses, keftas, and the crown that had recently become an extra burden on your head. Just like two rings on your finger.

"I knew you would look stunning in the crown, moya Sol Koroleva." he whispers, making you shiver at his sudden presence. He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Shadows circle lazily around you as his dark eyes catch yours in the mirror.

"You could at least pretend you didn't plan this from the beginning."

"I didn't plan it. I didn't want to be king. But when the dynasty kept taking advantage of us, I had no other choice. I had to start planning to take over the throne. Taking on the burden of power to make sure that the Grishas are finally treated as they should be. And then you appeared. My sunshine, my ray of hope, my little saint."

"A candidate for your queen and a means to a desired goal." you finish bitterly, resting your head on his shoulder to rest for a moment from the irritating weight of the crown. Looking in the mirror, you reluctantly admit that he looks handsome, dressing all like a king.

"Don't be so mean, milaya. You know very well that you shattered any evil plans I had for you when those lips of yours enchanted me. You made me feel like I could control it all for the first time in hundreds of years. That my plans will finally come true. We've come a long way, my Y/N, but we both know this is where we were meant to be. Next to each other. Equals. Together at the helm of Ravka. We are the only ones who will ever wield such power and who can stand next to each other forever."

You sigh. He is right. He is all you have. And you both know that you won't let go of each other anytime soon. You hated solitude. You knew yourselves so well that even for a second, consider leaving the only person who could ever stick so long with you. The ones who understood and were willing to share the burden the world put on the arms of the two of you.

So you turn in his arms, place your hand gently on his cheek, and after caressing his skin with your thumb, pull him in for a kiss.

He pulls you closer to him; you both need the other's touch and tenderness, the reassurance that after so many wars, fights, and betrays, you are finally together and that you will rely on each other to build the greatness of Ravka, leading your Grishas into the years of glory.

Not just as king and queen, tsar and tsaritsa. But also husband and wife. Partners. Equalls. Summoner of the sun and shadows united for the good of all your people.

"I love you, moi sol ye tselai. My Y/N." he whispers into the skin of your neck, placing kisses, especially where was the necklace he gave you, which you didn't dare to take off for so many years, afraid that the last connection and the memento you had left of him would disappear as soon as you lost it from your sight.

But behind these great goals was one common need, to which you agreed only for yourself. The need to love and be loved. The need to have a shelter that will last through the eternity that awaits both of you. And you finally had to admit that despite the darkness in your life and the problems and disasters mostly caused by your new husband, you couldn't imagine anyone else next to you.

"I love you, Aleksander. I've always have." you admit as his hands roam over you, caressing you. Shadows surround you, creating a protective bubble as you kiss passionately, forgetting about the rest of the world for a moment and you give in to your deepest desires.

The prospect of loneliness and everything that you went through in your life have effectively killed any sense of guilt or morality inside you. You could have allowed yourself that one selfish act. Especially when being with him in the darkness was such a tempting and blissful experience after years of loneliness.

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hopingforrainydays · 1 year

Text

birth of the bone-breaker | general kirigan

pairing: general kirigan x fem!reader

warnings: descriptions of blood and gore

word count: 2.3k

summary: soft times with the darkling as he comforts a traumatized grisha; in other words, a story in which a healer becomes something else and finds solace in the shadow summoner

author’s note: so so excited for shadow and bone season two. this one has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, and i’m happy to finally share it with y’all!

requests are open!

You were dragged through the palace gates at Os Alta, your limp form tugged forward--and held up--by the red-clad Grisha on either side of you. You barely registered their forceful motions, keeping your chin tucked into your chest. It was sodden with dirt, blood, and what could only be assumed to be some other form of bodily matter. But that wasn’t a bother. You barely registered that either.

It had been a long enough journey, but you had not fought the Grisha hauling you by horse, carriage, and on foot. You weren’t a fighter by nature, and even so, any of the adrenaline that flowed through your veins had ebbed away. Besides, you deserved whatever they had planned for you. The iron grip of the Corporalniks prevented any attempt of a struggle. The black detailing of their keftas marked them as Heartrenders; they could take the air from your lungs or crush your heart in a matter of moments.

But you could do the same, couldn’t you?

The shadow of the Little Palace loomed over you, and yet your gaze did not falter from its focus on your muddied feet. It was the only thing grounding you to this moment, no matter how you wished to glance upon the palace one last time. Once inside, you found small purchase on the smooth marble floors, the tips of your toes tripping at the quick pace set by your companions. A part you, deep inside, was apologetic of the mess you were bound to leave behind: muddy, bloodied footprints.

It wouldn’t be your first mess.

The First Army soldiers flanking the grounds had kept their hands on the trigger of their rifles and any Grisha that now flock through the halls followed your every movement, hands clasped in front of them. The dark forms of the oprichniki walked ahead, leading you to your doom. A strategic hold on your arms forced your hands to be kept apart.

You understood, in part, their caution. It still pained you. The presumption that the Grisha--your family--looked at you as though you were a monster clogged your eyes with tears.

Saints, you deserved whatever awaited you.

The Grisha soldiers brought you to the end of the hall. Ornate double-doors pushed open, and you were marched to the center of the large room. The bruising hold on your biceps ceased, causing you to fall to the ground in an ungraceful heap. You caught yourself against the ground, eyes trained on your bloodied fingertips. Your fingers folded into tight fists, the jagged edge of your fingernails cutting into your palms. You winced at the throbbing pain, but dug your fingertips further into the soft flesh. In the wild panic that rose in your throat, in the unsurety of the future, and in the potential meeting of your gruesome fate, you found that it was the one thing that reassured you.

“What is this?” The voice came from in front of you. It was cold and calculating, and one that you faintly recognized from your years spent training at the Little palace. General Kirigan.

“Forgive us, moi soverennyi. It’s a matter of grave importance,” said one of the Heartrenders. From what you could tell, they were stood not far behind you. Ready, in case you were to attack.

There was a shuffle of feet behind you. One of the Grisha, a Squaller, stepped forward. Her voice cracked as she said, “We were meant to deliver a few supplies to the Second Army regiment posted outside Chernast. When we arrived, they were–” she paused, taking in a shaky breath. She whispered, more to herself than anyone else, “Saints, they were all dead.”

“Except for them,” the other Heartrender spat. There was a sharp tug to your hair, yanking your head back. You let out a yelp, wild eyes meeting the cool stare of your general. “We found this one near the Fjerdan border, not far from the rest.”

“Release her.”

“General, you should know it was a massacre.”

“Release her.”

The hand in your hair released. Your head slumped forward, a throbbing pain forming at the back. General Kirigan stepped toward you, his finger reaching out to lift your chin. You flinched. He hesitated, the finger hanging in the air for a moment before retracting entirely. Instead, he crouched, his eyes now level with your own.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice softer now than when he spoke to his soldiers.

“Our best guess is drüskelle-”

“I wasn’t asking you,” the general snapped at the Heartrender. He turned his attention back to you, waiting patiently for your response.

You shook your head back and forth, frantic. The memories of the attack had plagued your mind throughout your journey from Chernast to Os Alta, but you were always quick to shove them away. You didn’t want to remember.

The general’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. His dark eyes roamed your indiscernible features, watching as your eyes darted to look at the Grisha beside you. With a frown, he rose to his feet.

“Leave us.”

One of the Corporalniks made a noise of disagreement, but with one look from their general, quieted. The remaining Grisha left the room in slow, hesitant movements, as if they thought General Kirigan would change his mind. With a final bow, the Squaller closed the door behind her.

There was a tense silence as you remained on the floor and the general leant back against the round table. You were afraid to move, though most of the stress in your muscles had eased at the near-isolation.

“Can you stand on your own?”

You didn’t respond.

“Are you injured? I’ll send for a Healer.”

“No,” you were quick to dismiss the idea. The voice that left you did not feel like your own; it was rough as sandpaper, and a lot louder than you intended. Noticing the general’s taken-aback-expression, you were quick to whisper an explanation. “The blood isn’t mine.”

With a sigh, he moved towards you. He reached his hand out in front of you, mindful to keep his movements slow and stay a respectful distance away. You eyed his hand before placing your palm into his own.

He turned it over, brushing his thumb over the deep crescent marks left by your fingernails. A trail of blood ran from them down to your wrist. The look he gave you had your face burning in childish embarrassment, as if you were getting scolded by a parent.

“You’ll visit the infirmary later. I’ll have a servant come to clean you up, lest you’re hiding anymore injuries.”

You wanted to scoff at his choice of words. A small mark of self-mutilation was hardly an injury, and would never compare to the harm you brought to those in Chernast. Instead, you settled on a frown. He hoisted you to your feet and set you straight. As he moved to leave, you caught his arm.

“Wait,” you said. He looked at you expectantly, and you found yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure where you were going with this, but the idea of being left alone terrified you. The idea of being left alone with one of the servants terrified you even more. You wanted to believe it was because of the looks the other Grisha had given you upon your arrival--distrust, discomfort, and horror. You would never admit it, but you knew the true reason: you weren’t afraid of what they’d do to you, but of what you’d do to them. “Stay.”

After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat, pulling away from the powerful man. It was foolish, you were foolish. You leaned against the table, propping yourself up with both arms. The strength it took to hold yourself up became too much, though, and your arms trembled with exertion.

General Kirigan reached out to catch you, balancing your weight on his forearms. He didn’t say anything, didn’t react to your request, or reprimand you for being so forward. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your back, supporting a majority of your weight as you leaned into his side.

He mumbled encouragements as he led you to a side room, resting you against the cool surface of a sink. You observed the new environment, the realization that he had brought you into his washroom dawning on you. The room was large enough, with a tub seated in the center. General Kirigan was beside it, turning the handle to allow water to pour from the faucet. As the tub filled to a level of his liking, he set out a variety of soaps and sponges off to a table on the side.

He took a few tentative steps in your direction, as though he were approaching a wild animal. Maybe he was. He gestured to the door you had entered through. “I’ll be in the other room.”

With a flustered expression, he shut the door behind him. It took you a while to get the motivation to move, to make any progress toward the bath. The ruined garments decorating your body would not budge under your trembling fingertips, so you eased into the tub fully-clothed. The water was scorching hot against the exposed parts of skin, but as you adjusted, you found that you preferred it. The bitter cold of the Fjerdan border still bit into your skin, so you welcomed the hot pain.

Cold. Chernast. Pain. Burn. The connection formed before you could stop it, and you were plagued by the memories from days before. You whimpered, curling into a fetal position. You remembered your weak attempts at healing the fatal injuries that littered the bodies of your fallen friends; the Fjerdan warriors charging you, axes raised to cut you down; the burning rage as your hands moved in ways they never had before; Fjerdan blood mixing with Grisha as it splattered into the snow.

The rap of knuckles against the door startled you out of your trance. The general’s voice sounded from the other side, “Is it okay to come in?”

You froze. Had it really been that long?

The door creaked open. He stepped into the room, his eyes finding yours. He let out an exasperated sigh at your state: curled in the tub, clothed, the water barely warm, and skin still dirty. His figure disappeared into the other room, bringing back with him a wooden chair.

He took a seat by the tub, reaching forward. His hands rested on your shoulders, smoothing over the fabric as his fingers moved to work at the buttons of your ruined kefta. The general was close enough now for you to smell him. A whirl of musk and spice filtered through your nose. You inhaled deeply, the scent strangely calming you.

The rest of your layers were stripped from your skin, and he folded the garments--Saints know why; they were beyond the help of any Fabrickator. You were left in a loose shirt and pants. The muck and grime caking your skin itched, and it took everything in you not to scrape it off. Your fingernails dug into the fat of your calves, jabbing through the thin material of your pants. You curled further into yourself, head rested against your knees. The pain brought you to the present, and it was all you could do to focus on that.

“What did this to you?” the general asked, rolling up his sleeves. He rubbed a bar of soap against a damp towel until the suds grew to his liking. He pressed the cloth to the skin of your hands, gently rubbing away the grime.

It was a different way of asking what happened, with an implication that you were not the cause. If only he knew that you were. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know.”

“You’re a Heartrender, no? You must remember the attack.”

“I’m a Healer.”

The confession stalled his movements. His grip on your wrist loosened, but he continued his work in the silence that followed.

“I do,” you whispered, after a moment. “I do remember.”

Kirigan didn’t say anything. He glared at the bruises marking your arms from the Heartrenders’ grip.

“Fjerdan warriors attacked in the night. We never saw them coming. There was so much blood, so many bodies.”

“But you weren’t one of them.”

“No. I was trying to help those still alive. Heal them, if I could. Saints, at that point I was saving them just for them to die again.” You swallowed, thick and teary-eyed. “One of them found me, in the midst of it all. He pinned me to the ground. I saw the axe raise. And I just…panicked.”

By now, Kirigan had moved to cleaning your face. He dabbed carefully at your forehead.

“My hands were on his chest, and I felt every bone in his body break.”

You were disgusted with yourself. You were a Healer, not a Heartrender. It was your chosen specialization because you could not stand the thought of causing another person pain–you wanted to help. And yet here you were, one massacre later.

His finger smoothed the crease of your brows. “That sounds like self defense to me.”

“It could’ve been. If I hadn’t hunted down every warrior after that.” He gestured for you to stand. A fluffy towel wrapped around your shoulders, soaking in the sopping wet material of your clothes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he asked as you stepped from the tub.

“Taking care of me.”

“Someone needed to.”

“You didn’t have to.”

A pregnant pause. You thought you may have overstepped or offended him. He pulled you close by the towel on your shoulders, fingers gripping the sides of your jaw. His thumb rubbed against your cheek. “I did. I know what it’s like to feel like the monster.”

“General–”

“Kirigan. Just Kirigan.”

“Kirigan.” You smiled, if only a small one, for the first time in weeks. “Thank you.”

buy me a coffee

#general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #grisha #shadow and bone x reader #general kirigan one shot #kirigan one shot #the darkling one shot

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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months

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Villain: Mavros Arator, Voice of the Ascendant

The demagogues seem everywhere these days, putting their words to the tune of the populace's nebulous worries: this week it's the impiety of the realm's leaders, last week it was the barbarians infringing on the borders, before that it was the decaying morality of the youth. It's the same old song, just with new lyrics to fit with the times. No one's sure just when the crescendo will hit or how, but everyone who's been paying attention know they're going to try to bring the whole house down when it does.

Setup: A charismatic figure has risen to prominence channelling discontent in the wake of an unfavourable war. As a gifted orator and veteran of a conflict remembered for being more "glorious", the words of Mavros Arator carry weight with both the military and common people. He agitates on behalf of those who resent the diplomatic capitulations used to secure peace in a losing war his own rulers started, and argues for a revival of "national spirit" to strengthen the homeland so it does not allow such a disgraceful defeat to happen again.

What separates Mavros from any other blowhard protofascist is the fact that he's looking to summon a demon to purge his homeland of those unsympathetic to his cause. Scoured clean of all those unwilling to fight and die and obey, he and the other true believers will form an unstoppable army that will march out under the banner of conquest to settle at spearpoint every historical grievance in the realm's long history.

It's up to the party to stop this instigator and the hatemob he's made of their neighbours before he enacts his plan and ends up ascending to full dark lord status.

Background: Mavros loved his homeland, as a young man he went to war to defend it, spent decades bleeding for it, and that love endured even after his homeland spat him out with nothing but a soldier's pension and a lifetime of traumas he had no words to explain.

That was the point of course, empires are built on the back of men like Mavros, shaped from their earliest days to believe that their homeland is singularly great and beset by threats on all sides, or that war is the measure by which a son may prove his faith and loyalty rather than an enterprise made to expand the holdings of the powers that be.

The problem for those powers is that Mavros didn't die like he was supposed to, he soldiered on driven by a manic dedication that persisted despite his comrades getting scythed down around him. When he was too old for soldiering he turned to having a family, raising four boys and feeding them one after another into the waiting jaws of his nation.

A man less ardent in his love of home, less firm in his faith might have wavered when they brought the first of his sons' bloody helmets back in lieu of a body. He might have seen how his virtues, his loyalty, had been abused by those above him, made him question the justness of the wars and conquests and pain he had been apart of. instead that loss, made him open to change. Instead Mavros's convictions deepened, and by the time of his third son's death he had become so entrenched in the pit of his beliefs that he had unearthed a new truth: He loved his homeland, it was just being held back by the people who didn't love it enough.

It was deep in that pit where Mavros first heard the whispering of Diridaxx, the fiend known to diabolists as "He who claws from below". In ages past the demon was said to prey upon the weak, wicked, and impious, before clashing with an ancient hero and being struck down with a blow so divinely empowered that it not only buried the fiend deep underground but reduced him to ash along the way, depriving him of the strength required to ever escape. The depths of Mavros's despair and his own desire to see those "less thans" cleared from his home formed a connection between man and demon: first dreams, then visions, then a pact. Influence in exchange for escape, followed by victory in exchange for slaughter. The fact that the hero of the old myth happened to be one of the founders of the realm that handed Mavros's own homeland its recent defeat was just icing on the cake.

Adventure Hooks:

The party is likely to encounter Mavros's influence long before the man himself, as thugs, opportunists, and grifters look to take advantage of the post-war unrest to raise their place in the world and make good on his words. A troop of discontented soldiers may be shaking down travlers on the road as an unofficial "toll" to repay their service , while an enterprising merchant might stoke xenophobia to turn townsfolk against a competitor of forign origin.

It'll take more than speeches and random acts of violence to summon Diridaxx from the pit, it will take sacrifice. (un)Luckily for Mavros, he's been sacrificing all his life, and all that is required is a bit of occult-recontextualization to turn the deaths of his sons into a ritual years in the making. With fiend's magic his follower's resources at his command, it's only a matter of time before he gathers the bones of his three dead sons (and their haplessly dutiful surviving brother,) from their resting place in foreign lands and cremates them, suffusing their pyresmoke with Diridaxx's own noxious essence.

If you want to add another big bad to the mix and given similar themes of would be tyranny and xenophobia, consider checking out my genocidal fallen angel villain: Insiyah who could be very easily be using Mavros as her agent, or working alongside him to bring about his vision.

Also consider checking out my writeup on how d&d tends to mishandle matters of morality in it's game, and the simplistic way it views evil. Writing that inspired me to write a villain who was a very human sort of evil who utilized magic, rather than the all too common magical evil around which most campaigns are based.

Art 1

Art 2

#villain #villain warlock #warlock #villain politician #politics #irl politics #fiend #mid level #random encounter road #encounter town #warfare

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bones4thecats · 5 months

Note

Hello!! I hope you're having a nice day. I have a request if you don't mind. How about the reader being a woman who has spent her entire life fighting in her own region without any help, entirely alongside her own people, and is often called the 'Barbarian Goddess'? The reader lost both his father and brothers in the war between the Gods and the Titans. So it has nothing to do with normal Goddesses. How about a woman who is no different from men sometimes? The only thing she thinks about and cares about is her own people, and she is ready to quarrel with all the Gods when necessary. You can write with any character you want <3

A/N: I decided to choose a character that I haven’t written anything for, and I also wanted to write something for Poseidon. I’m going through my Poseidon and Adamas faze again T-T

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🥀 He had heard about you from the meetings he had to go to with his brothers

🥀 Mainly hearing stories about you from Zeus that his wife, Hera, had told him about you, Adamas was quite intrigued when he heard you were going to appear at the next Gods’ Council meeting

🥀 The doors slammed open and he watched as you walked through being followed by three of your fellow Gods, they held their spears close to their forms as your staff stood proud and high like you

🥀 Adamas had to admit, hearing you stand up to Poseidon’s strong words was hilarious, nobody had expected that to happen

🥀 It took a while, but after you guys formed a close relationship, he loved to come over when his work finally slowed down and he would watch you train your members of the army

🥀 When the God of Conquest had supposedly died from Poseidon, you were alerted of his true condition by Hades, who knew how close you both were

🥀 You were with him when he came back and was renamed into ‘Adamantine’, and you married him down in Helheim with Hades being one of the only witnesses

🥀 Adamantine got angry when Hades died, and you had to hold him back from jumping down and killing Qin Shi Huang at that moment, thankfully, your years of fighting wars by yourself got you strong

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🔱 Poseidon didn’t exactly like you at first because of how devoid of care you were for any other Gods

🔱 You stood up to him while in a Gods’ Council meeting, and you just standing up and basically scolding him for speaking in such a bulldozing manner

🔱 He and you eventually found some middle ground when the Gods vs. Titans war happened and Zeus fought his and his brothers’ father to the death

🔱 You smiled as the children from your land ran up to him and handed him flower crowns in celebration, Poseidon just looked at you while they handed Zeus the crowns and his heart skipped a beat as your smile lit up his mind

🔱 Why was he feeling this way?

🔱 Poseidon would spend more time in your region than in any other besides his own, and when the news got out that he was courting you, everyone erupted in laughter, why would he court a Goddess who was known for being a barbarian?

🔱 But when they found out it was true? 😱

🔱 He knew that everyone knew about your engagement what it happened as well, Hermes and Zeus couldn’t keep a secret for the life of them

🔱 Well, Hermes could, but Zeus couldn’t

🔱 The children that you were teaching to become warriors in your army for any eventual threat loved to mess around in the water that Poseidon would summon for them, holding it above their heads in bubbles and letting it explode to rain on them

🔱 He may not be the best example of the perfect man, but underneath the whole cold exterior, he was the God that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with

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blues824 · 7 months

Note

Hello I've seen that you have been getting a lot of requests

But could I request : twst housewardens with nico di angelo/reader, that reader tells them that they're son/daughter of hades and their power? And maybe the battle of labyrinth(feel free to ignore ☺)

Gender-neutral reader (male reader-coded, but anyone can read as there are no gender-specific terms used). English Server player here, btw.

Riddle Rosehearts

You were the only one possibly in the entirety of Twisted Wonderland who could revive the dead… even if they were to do your bidding. Yeah, he was definitely freaked out when you cracked the ground open and made a bunch of cadavers and skeletons attack him while he was overblotting.

Riddle can tell that you have been through a lot of pain. He did not know the extent of that pain until he saw you at the fountain, throwing in a drachma and conversing with your sister’s ghost. You only had one tear slip down your face when you noticed that the tyrannical housewarden was watching. You quickly recovered before using the shadows to travel back to Ramshackle.

It wasn’t until later where he learned about your backstory, and holy shit have you gone through a lot. Chronologically, you were 82, but you had the physical appearance of a 15 year old. You were physically younger than he was. You told him that it was because you spent 70 years in a casino, but this just managed to confuse him more.

Anyways, you first came off to him as rude and distant, which he could understand because you ended up in Twisted Wonderland. You first thought you were hallucinating or put under a hallucination by a god or goddess you weren’t aware of. That being said, you didn’t get close to anyone because you were scared that you could be brought out of the hallucination at any point. However, you started getting closer to a certain red-headed housewarden as he extended a cup of tea “olive branch”.

Leona Kingscholar

When you stepped on his tail in the botanical gardens that day, he was annoyed as we all know. However, since you were in your Battle of the Labyrinth era, you were not about to take the shit he threw at you. Maybe if you were younger, but not now. You were pissed off at Percy and you were on a mission to get out of Twisted Wonderland as soon as possible.

He doesn’t really care that you are a more private person. However, when he sees you display some of your abilities, he does get a bit curious. Like, for example, you opened up the ground and had skeletons attack him while he was overblotting. He easily turned them into sand, but it was still surprising. He had never met anyone who could do that before, as magic in Twisted Wonderland could not do that.

But, there was one time where he was coming back from a Housewarden meeting, and he saw you putting a strange coin into the fountain while you were speaking to an apparition. He hid behind a pillar and saw that there was a figure on the ledge of the fountain. You turned around and Leona saw a tear slide down your face before you melted into the shadow that the fountain cast.

Leona eventually learned of your backstory by Ruggie running around and seeing what he could find about you. You were actually 82 years old, which definitely added to the small pile of “Things that Actually Surprised the Housewarden of Savanaclaw”. You had never actually celebrated your birthday by a birthday party. The apparition he saw in the fountain was your deceased sister. He feels like shit for the way he has treated you thus far.

Azul Ashengrotto

As we know, he was present during Leona’s overblot. So he sees that you can summon a dead army. And he definitely wants to get that under a contract that will put him at an advantage over the dead. However, you have already been in this situation. You were not about to be under someone else’s control again.

That being said, your fatal flaw made its appearance and you held a grudge against Azul. You would go out of your way to not come within six feet of this man. You started making your own meals and you would travel via the shadows. The cecaelia noticed, and he started to feel kind of bad… and so he asked the tweels to find information on you in exchange for less hours for an entire week.

They came up with a lot of things, actually. You were the descendent of Hades, the brother of the father of the King of the Sea. That is how you got your powers. It wasn’t magic at all. You had a full biological sister who joined the Hunters of Artemis group, but died. You were fighting gods and titans left and right… and you were still physically only 15 years old.

Unfortunately for you, your powers did not come in handy when you fought against his overblot. However, your sword did, as well as the potion that allowed you to breathe underwater. You’ve had plenty of experience with fighting in water, so you were well-versed and thus defeated him rather easily. You called him an amateur, stating that one of your fellow demigods at Camp Half-Blood would have posed a better challenge, which made his ego take critical damage.

Kalim Al-Asim

You cannot tell me that this man is not the Will Solace to your Nico di Angelo. However, unlike Will, Kalim does not have the power to heal anybody via singing a song. He is no archer. He has no super powerful whistle. He can’t put anyone under a ‘couplets curse’. He can’t emit a divine glow. He can’t shoot rays of light. He can’t change the seasons. He can’t control diseases. But he is still yours.

Because of the way he is, you physically can’t hold a grudge against him. But you are suspicious of the Vice Housewarden. You stick to the shadows and listen in on private conversations. Not like Kalim would ever believe you, but you have done what you could to prevent an uprising against him.

During Jamil’s overblot, you were actually able to defeat him rather easily, surprising Kalim. Sure, you were sent into the desert, but you were able to travel in the shadows that the dunes of sand cast. You were actually able to take everyone and travel faster. However, that left you drained, but you knew you had to keep fighting. Using the last of your strength, you summoned a skeletal army, and then your vision started to get dark.

Kalim ended up waking you up in the infirmary. He was crying and pleading with you to forgive him for not believing you all along. You were kind of confronted and put on the spot, wanting him not to make a noise and cause a scene. You patted his head kind of awkwardly, and he was so happy to see that you have forgiven him and that everything was going to be okay since you were awake now.

Vil Schoenheit

You looked like a corpse, and Vil was not afraid to point it out. You bit back and stated that because you were a child of Hades, God of the Underworld, it was understandable that you looked less than alive. That started a beautiful hateship between the two of you, as he’s trying to fix your eyebags and you’re trying to fix his attitude. You didn’t even know much about Neige, but you said something along the lines of, “it’s no wonder that everyone likes him over you.”

Anyways, Vil has sent Rook to go dig up some dirt that he could use against you. The hunter found out many heartbreaking things that made the Housewarden feel horrible about the things he has said about you. You were doing all of this just for Bianca, your deceased sister, because she told you that you needed to move on as she moved on to Elysium.

When he overblots, you already have enough experience. Your sword has the ability to absorb darkness, and guess what the ink is? Anyways, you used your sword to absorb some of the ink, which weakened the overblotting mess. It was a relatively easy takedown, and you just left silently after. Again, your fatal flaw poked through, and you only helped because of Epel and Rook and how you were friends with them.

In the infirmary, Vil woke up right when you dropped off a single get-well gift. It was a small vase with just one stem of lavender as well as an olive branch. Just one, as you wanted to be stingy, but you wanted to be better than your fatal flaw. You wanted to show that you weren’t unsympathetic, so you extended this purple olive branch and the actual olive branch. Vil knew the language of plants all too well, and he got the message.

Idia Shroud

You both are shut-ins, you both are nerds… It's a match made in the Underworld. Nah, but all jokes aside, you both hated each other at first. You would debate each other on every single fact from any given Fandom. But you were good friends with Ortho, even if you did dislike the fact that he was so naive. He reminded you of yourself in the beginning of your demigod journey, and you did not like remembering all of that.

Anyways, Idia is going total cyber-stalker. He is trying to find something he can fight against you with, kind of like a Redditor. What he did manage to find was depressing and sad, and also made him feel like shit. Hearing about Bianca made him clutch onto Ortho more and appreciate having him, as not everyone could have such a good replacement as his robotic younger brother was for his dead older brother.

When he overblotted, you were just tired at this point. However, Idia proved to be much more of a challenge than you had originally thought. By this point, the Housewarden of Ignihyde had analyzed your powers as a child of Hades as well as thought about any other hidden powers you may or may not have, and prepared accordingly. You couldn’t shadow-travel at all and you couldn’t use the ground for whatever reason (Idia had used magic to keep you from doing so).

It was depending on your assholes of friends that allowed you to win, because the one thing that the flame-haired 18-year-old didn’t expect was for you to suck it up and forget your grudges against Ace just to beat his ass. So, he was left vulnerable as you acted as a weird diversion, using his love for a certain anime against him as you shouted a complete hot-take that he definitely did not agree with.

Malleus Draconia

Hey, look everybody! It’s the social rejects! I’m just playing… kind of. You both tend to emit an aura that can be portrayed as frightening to others. The only difference was that your aura was intentional, and it even managed to give Sebek a spook sometimes. However, it did not deter Malleus from reaching out to you and extending an olive branch. That was the start of a beautiful relationship between the two of you.

I have a headcanon that this dragon prince is kind of like a goth version of Will Solace. You can confide in him during your nightly walks, and he is not going to judge you for it. You have actually told him about your older sister and her untimely death, and while he did try to tell you that it wasn’t Percy’s fault and you weren’t hearing it, you secretly knew that it was true and it was just your fatal flaw that kept you from forgiving Jackson.

Speaking of confiding within him, you’ve also told him that you were scared that he was going to overblot. He was so attached to his retainers as well as you and Lilia that it would be wrong to qualify this fear as anything but rational. Malleus understood, as you’ve already had to fight six overblots in the relatively short amount of time you’ve been in Twisted Wonderland, and you’ve had to solve the familial issues of an arsonist (Rollo Flamm).

Your fluency in Greek fascinated Malleus, as Greek was not a common language that was spoken. He had no idea what or where ‘Greece’ was, but he was also interested in learning about Hades as well as your [distant] cousins, who were the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood. Then, there was an entire other demigod camp called Camp Jupiter, and you were kind of a ghost story between the two. You, in turn, listened to his silly little rants about gargoyles, as you believed that there needed to be a healthy exchange in interests within the relationship.

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webslinger-holland · 1 year

Text

The Emperor of Magic | Prologue

Summary: More feared than the Shadow Summoner himself and more powerful than the Sun Summoner could even imagine, the Emperor of Magic is the only known human to be able to manipulate magic. Having only been a myth up until this point, Kaz Brekker sets out to take her captive in hopes of making himself rich in the process…

Warning: +18 Warning, mentions of gruesome deaths, person taken into captivity

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Type: Series

Word Count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

It had been three and a half years. Any spare moment was spent keened over a desk looking at outdated documents, old records, and even ancient books. Plans had been laid out, but were often discarded once a flaw presented itself. The rumor had started three and a half years ago; that there had been a sighting of what ancient texts called ‘The Emperor of Magic.’

This was no ordinary human being. They couldn’t be classified as Grisha since they only performed small science. They are only able to manipulate things. The Emperor was able to craft, wield, and destroy anything. They are the only known being to control magic.

There were theories that tried to reason and explain the power and extent of magic. The Emperor needs to see a victim in order to inflict order and control their mind. The Emperor must touch a victim’s skin to possess them. The Emperor need only hear their victim’s voice to be able to control their every thought. Though the wildest theory claimed the Emperor doesn’t need to see, touch, or hear anybody in order to control them. They are already all-knowing. Therefore, they could control.

More feared than the Shadow Summoner himself and more powerful than the Sun Summoner could ever imagine. The Emperor of Magic rose above all others. Their power was not limited to one area like the Grisha. They had the ability to control anything and anyone.

The Emperor was not viewed as a Saint; they were viewed as a demon from the depths of hell. A man had died the most impossible death; his head exploded into millions of pieces. Some witnesses were around when the incident happened and called the authorities. Now someone had been taken into custody.

Due to the extent of the incident, the leaders of the three nations called a meeting to discuss what should happen next. They met in Ravka. In the Little Palace, they attempted to come to an agreement as to what should be done about this new threat to their world.

While Ravka, Fjerda, and Shu Han had their differences in the past, they were willing to work together to come to a solution about this issue. If they refused to work together, their countries might cease to exist in a few years time or they might lose their thrones of power. They needed to find a solution.

“She went willingly. Didn’t put up a fight,” the King of Ravka explained to them. “She very well could have taken down my entire army if she wanted to, but she didn’t.”

“Are we absolutely certain it was her?” The Taban Queen of Shu Han spoke.

“Once she was in custody, she killed two more guards the same way,” The King of Ravka claimed. “It is most certainly her.”

“How was she detained?” The King of Fjerda asked in a thick heavy accent. He had obviously heard about the extent of her powers.

“My soldiers took her by surprise,” the King of Ravka boasted. “They covered her eyes with a bag and put muffs over her ears. Stuffed a gag in her mouth so she could not speak and bound her wrists so she couldn’t perform any magic.”

“Where is she now?” The Taban Queen of Shu Han wondered.

“She is currently being kept in a high security prison. Though I fear the cell is not built to contain someone as gifted as her. She needs to be kept in an impenetrable place,” the King of Ravka said slowly.

The Ravkan King’s eyes had shifted to the King of Fjerda. The Ice Court was a military stronghold that was truly impenetrable. Many of the druskelle were tasked with guarding the high-security prison, keeping track of all prisoners. The King of Ravka knew that the Ice Court would be the only place that would be able to contain someone of such power.

“You don’t think she would be able to escape the cells?” The King of Fjerda questioned. “She can control anything; she could make her way out of a flimsy cell.”

“That’s why I’d like to send a Fabrikator to construct a cell to hold her,” the King proposed. But this only caused the King of Fjerda to laugh.

“I would never allow the likes of Grisha into my court,” the King of Fjerda seethed in threat. His people liked to hunt those who could manipulate small science. They found so much pleasure in killing them.

“Then say she does escape. Don’t you think she’ll want to take us out first?” The King of Ravka explained. This only caused the other king to frown. “She is called ‘the Emperor’ for a reason. She won’t need kings or queens once she is in power. She’ll take our thrones if we do not stop her now.”

“You can stop her by killing her,” the Fjerdan spat. “Strike her down where she stands. The demon does not deserve to live.”

“But she could be of great use to us,” the Queen of Shu Han spoke up. Her people were known for conducting scientific experiments and inflicting inhumane treatment onto the Grisha. “If we could harness that power, we’d be able to control our enemies,” the Queen grew excited from the thought alone.

“Exactly,” the King of Ravka nodded. “She’d become our greatest weapon.”

The three leaders agreed that they liked power and they’d like to remain in power. By eliminating the threat, they’d have very little to gain from it. However, if they were able to obtain that power of magic somehow, they’d be able to weaponize it and use it against their enemies. They’d be unstoppable.

So they crafted a legal document in which they all had to agree to and sign. In the document, Ravka would supply the materials needed to contain the threat. The Fabrikators would have to create a cell that could contain such power. They’d also be tasked with crafting the proper attire that would render her imobile and make it so she could not use her magic. The Fjerdan would provide the space to contain her and the people to guard her. The druskelle were known to be some of the best soldiers in the world. The Shu would provide the knowledge. They’d send scientists to perform the experiments needed to figure out how to harness the power of magic.

Each nation had a part to play. And it was going to work in their favor.

That meeting happened three and a half years ago. There was no evidence that the meeting ever happened besides the legal document which explained each nation’s part to play in the whole scheme. Only one person had lived to see the incident happen that resulted in the death of a man. That is how the rumor started.

The Emperor of Magic had been sighted, but there was little evidence to prove it. The man claimed that the authorities took her into custody, but neither the captive or the guardsmen were ever seen again. The man who claimed to see all of this was starting to go crazy, becoming a theorist whose ideas sounded extreme.

The rumors spread across the lands and fell on ears. Many people chose not to believe the man, insisting that there was no such thing as magic and whatever he had seen was just make believe. Some people were most intrigued by his stories and wondered what truly happened to the person captured.

The Little Palace kept the legal document of evidence in a sealed vault. The document had actually never been seen by anybody other than the three people who had signed it. However, unbeknownst to the three rulers, the legal document that was currently sitting in the vault was not the original copy.

About three years ago, a small group of criminals had broken into the palace on a completely unrelated heist. Their true intent was to capture the Sun Summoner who had just recently been discovered. But one of the members stumbled across a secure vault.

He had a thing for lockpicking. When he was able to open the vault, he was slightly surprised to see a single piece of paper inside. He took it without hesitation, coming to believe it must have had some type of significance if it was locked away. He quickly crafted a replica and forged signatures before slipping the copy into the vault.

Kaz Brekker was able to find the one piece of evidence and quickly became obsessed with it. For the next three years, Kaz studied that single piece of flimsy paper until the edges became worn and the paper grew discolored. He tried finding old reports on abnormal or supernatural behavior. He pulled out old records of prisoners kept in the court. He even read ancient texts which described the emperor’s power.

Why the fascination? Why the obsession over a mere myth? The answer was clear to him.

He didn’t believe in saints or demons. He didn’t care about people who could manipulate small science or people who could control magic. What he saw was an opportunity to make him rich beyond his wildest dreams.

If other people in power knew about this potential weapon, how much would they be willing to pay for it? If he managed to break her out of prison and keep her captive himself, what kind of power would he possess? Power. Money. Control.

He began crafting the ultimate heist. He recovered old maps of the court they had made during their first heist as a full crew. He studied the old myths to become more knowledgeable in the kind of threat they’d be facing. Wanting to keep his whole crew alive if possible, Kaz was making sure every aspect assured their safety.

They couldn’t be seen by the emperor. They couldn’t be heard by the emperor. And they could not touch the emperor. But Kaz somehow devised a plan to get the emperor out of prison.

It took him three years. He lost count of the amount of paper he’d gone through. He spent too many hours studying those old documents. He also didn’t relay any details to the rest of his crew. At least, not until he was able to perfect his plan.

Finally, after three years, Kaz was content with the looks of his heist. He looked over the plans once more. He managed to break into the Ice Court once. How hard could it be doing it again?

THOUGHTS ON THE NEW SERIES?

#Kaz Brekker #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker series #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker x inej ghafa

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vesta-ria · 2 years

Text

No escape; Genshin x Reader SAGAU (Part 1; reader focus)

Hi everyone, how are you? It’s my first post and I tried to be poetic and deep but I’m pretty sure it was not good :(

GN reader (no pronouns mentioned; at least I don’t think)

Sagau imposter au, angst, hurt/no comfort

Fic below the cut!

⇨ 𝕀 𝕕𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 ⇦

You were wounded, tired, starving. But they still won't stop chasing you. You have no idea what you did wrong. As for how you ended up in this situation... you have no idea either.

It has been 7... 8? Days? Weeks? You've lost all concept of time, all you knew was to run, to hide, to find any scrap of food that you can.

Let's rewind a bit.

Some time ago, you were isekai'd into the world of Genshin Impact. Before all this, Genshin Impact was your favorite game, your escape from reality. It's ironic how your escape from reality became your nightmarish reality.

The last memory you have of your actual reality was of you scrolling on your phone before dozing off. When you woke up, you were in the middle of nowhere.

You've read fanfiction before, of course, you have. You've been obsessed with this game for ages. Would you call yourself a whale? Probably not, but other people certainly will. The point is, you were familiar with the SAGAU genre of fanfiction. You knew how much danger you were in, and you also knew that the land of Teyvat will cater to your every need

You may not have regretted spending money on the game at that time, but that was you in the past. You've been chased all through the land of Teyvat. The nations of Monstadt, Liyue, and Inazuma all have you as their most wanted criminal. You're grateful - no, extremely thankful that Sumeru has not joined in on the hunt. If you ever make it back home, you'll make sure the Sumeru characters have the best weapons and artifacts.

You hoped to get some rest along the river, and as usual, the land of Teyvat catered to your every need. The tree you were leaning on leaned forward to provide some shade, and a cool breeze washed upon you as a sunsettia fruit fell from the tree. You picked it up and began eating, enjoying the rare moment of peace.

Sadly, all good things come to an end. Your rare moment of peace came to an end when you were spotted by the Monstadt army led by the Acting Grand Master. And so, you were back to running.

You ran, and ran, and ran. Where could you possibly go? There were people in the 3 nations that are willing to help you, but their leaders didn't. Sumeru was too far away there was no way you could go there. And even if you did, it's unlikely they would help you, what would they do? Say you're not an imposter and declare war with the 3 nations?

You had nowhere else to go, they had already informed Liyue and Inazuma of your location, and they were circling you.

This is the end, isn't it? You had nowhere else to run, Teyvat can't help you now. You knew there was no escape from this, but still, you hoped at the bottom of your heart that you were able to summon the help of the many creatures of Teyvat to save you, to let you live for another day. And just maybe, in that extra day, you could be teleported back to your reality.

No matter how much Teyvat tried to save you from your impending doom, they were no match for the 3 archons filled with determination to kill you.

You gave up, there was no other choice. They had found you, and they captured you, you didn't struggle, you didn't fight, you didn't attempt to flee.

There are five stages of accepting the inevitable.

Denial; "This couldn't be happening, I- I mean, those were fiction, they were supposed to be fiction..." is what you would tell yourself most nights when they stopped chasing you.

Anger; "How could you do this? I spent so much money on you, I DEDICATED MY ENTIRE LIFE TO YOU" is what you once yelled at them when you were almost caught.

Bargaining; "This is just a dream, a really bad dream. I'm going to wake up, soon. Soon enough..." you tried to convince yourself, but you knew it wasn't true.

Depression; You cried your eyes out, a lot. You saw no reason to continue. But you still carried on, with that faint hope that it would all be over soon.

Acceptance; "Fine, you got me. I won't fight anymore. Kill me, or do whatever you want. I'm done with this world, just get me out of here" is what you told them before being dragged out to your execution.

"Today we are here to execute the perpetrator of the worst crime that can be committed, impersonating our divine creator." You heard the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing - Ningguang announce to her people. You guessed the execution is taking place in Liyue, you don't remember the landscape anymore, you don't want to remember.

"The divine creator has not been in contact with us ever since the imposter has been sighted within the lands of Teyvat. It is only reasonable that we assume the imposter had something to do with the divine creator's disappearance." This time it was Jean speaking, but it didn't matter. No matter who was speaking, the content is the same. You were an imposter.

They put you through every torture method possible, they broke your bones and blinded you. You still couldn't die.

Why? Why must this happen to you?

It had gone on for so long that you no longer felt pain, it was numb, everything was numb. You can barely hear anything. When they finally pierced a polearm through your heart, you didn't feel anything. Just the same numbness.

The voice in your head got quieter, and quieter. Until it was completely silent.

Finally, at last.

Peace.

HI EVERYONE, feel free to request some ideas. I have 2 other parts of this fanfic planned I just don’t know when I’d post it so stay tuned if you enjoy reading this :)

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #imposter au #imposter!au #sagau imposter #sagau impostor au #angst #genshin angst #sagau creator #sagau creator au #genshin sagau

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kekaki-cupcakes · 9 months

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Hi uhm sorry if I bother you: could you please write Percy x daughter of Disciplina (minor Roman goddess of discipline) who’s very uhm well rules-oriented, similar to Jason and cold and military though secretly loves cute and chaotic things (though doesn’t partake) so it’s kind of a rival to lovers situation please? And they meet when Percy arrives at the camp Jupiter? Thank you so much and feel free to decline ofc! Bye bye! Ps: loved your Nike series and I can’t wait for the Hypnos piece too! Take your time though, ofc!

This was a cute idea <3 and I liked writing about Camp Jupiter I haven't had any roman demigod requests before! sorry it took so long I'm multitasking so much haha but this ended up as 2.1k words lol <3

rules orders kisses instructions---Percy Jackson x roman child of Disciplina

»»————-　★　————-««

-First of all, it wasn’t your fault that you managed to bring the most chaotic, rule breaking, cute, carefree, demigod into Camp Jupiter.

-You were posted just inside the borders, watching for monsters and the like, and though you’d never admit it, it was one of the quietest and therefore dullest spots for patrol. Nothing ever came through, and you spent most of your time sharpening your weapon and spotting cloud animals. Until something did come through, namely, the bane of your entire existence.

-He came running over the hills with a panda pillow pet and a bronze sword, followed by a hoard of screeching monsters, telling ‘Perseus Jackson’ that today was the day he would die. At the time, rescuing this random demigod was the right thing to do, but looking back, if you had just let him be trampled by the contents of Tartarus, it would have fixed a lot of your problems. Instead you opened the gates to Camp Jupiter and let him in.

-Both of you stood beyond the gates, which were made out of some solid metal that the Trivia kids had installed. They had never disclosed what it was that vaporized the monsters the second they touched it. You should probably check in with that, now that you think about it.

-Perseus had made quite the fuss when the first cohort and the praetors showed up, making giant hands out of one of the rivers that ran along the edge of the city and then being introduced by a god. He took it all in his stride, and even had the nerve to back-talk Octavian [something you’d never admit to wanting to do yourself].

-You hated him immediately.

-Well, maybe not hate, hate was a strong word for simple feelings. You would just rather if Percy [he had corrected the use of his name immediately. You were grateful. Perseus was a stupid name.] had a bit more respect for the way Camp Jupiter worked, and stopped teaching the younger soldiers swear words during meal times.

-A few days into his stay, he approached you in one of the large canvas tents set up. You’d been mapping out which of the hills you were going to use as a base in the next war game with Dakota, when he tripped on his shoelaces and righted himself, grinning at both you and Dakota.

-Apparently he wanted to thank you for not leaving him out the border to fight off the army of monsters on his tail, and volunteered to help out on your team during the war games in return.

-You told him you would consider once he learnt to tie his shoelaces properly.

-You’d then assumed that would be the last of it, thankfully, [although for some reason you’d scan the fifth cohorts section sometimes for a mess of black hair, but you were just trying to keep the younger soldiers vocabulary appropriate. Obviously.] and spent the rest of the day taking poisonous bows and quivers off the children of Mercury, and explaining to the daughter of Pluto that she wasn’t allowed to ‘have a go at summoning a horse skeleton for funsies’.

-Reyna marched between the canvas tents with her metal dogs, barking instructions and sending out a few Helios kids and legacies as medics.

-Ten minutes before the game officially started, when the opposite side were posted up too far away to see their silhouettes on the mountain ridge, and the children of Mars were untying the war elephant from its posts and readying it for battle, Percy burst back into the tent. One of the leopards getting a spiked collar attached to its neck growled, but settled back down when Dakota spoke sharply to it. Lavinia went to shoo Percy out, but something about the easy grin on his lips made you wave a hand, and Lavinia went back to instructing the Vulcan children.

-Percy ran to you, and in quite the untimely fashion, kicked one of his feet up onto the battle plans, mud and dirt smearing across the maps and charts. Before you could yell at him, you spotted his shoes.

-“How’s that for being allowed to fight?” Somehow, in the few hours he’d had spare, Percy had acquired a pair of purple velcro sneakers.

-You stood there for a moment, and then narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms as well, just to make your point. “If you left Camp Jupiter I will have to report you, you know that, right?”

-He just smirked. “You like me too much. And don’t worry, I traded Octavian's diary for them, some Venus legacy guy had a spare pair. Purple isn’t really my color, but watch!”

-Thankfully, he took his feet off the table, but a moment later he was running across the cramped tent, and threw his arms out for balance as small wheels popped out of the soles of his shoes. A coat of shields crashed to the floor, and the leopard in the corner jumped to its feet and scampered out. Someone yelled and Percy proceeded to spin in a circle and then slip and fall.

-For the first time, you became annoyed that your reflexes were so good, because Percy was sprawled out in your arms, which were under his, keeping him from becoming impaled by a stray electric spear. You held your breath for as long as you could, pulling your expression into one blank of emotions, but then you couldn’t hold it any longer.

-You laughed.

-Pery turned around, pulling his shirt down and skidding a little on the floor. His green eyes you only just noticed were the same shade as the lake near the stables were wide, and he was slack jawed.

-Your stomach started to hurt as you giggled, “what?”

-“You can laugh!”

-“Of course I can laugh, Perseus, I am a person.”

-“I didn’t know you could laugh. And it’s Percy, don’t make fun of me.”

-You went back to glaring at him quickly, and he visibly dulled. You just rolled your eyes and began brushing mud dewy grass of the battle plans. He peeked over your shoulder, hair tickling your neck, so you planted one of the little markers Dakota liked to use to show where people would be patrolling.

-Percy pouted, and you quickly looked away from his mouth [why were you even looking at his mouth?], “can’t I be the horse?”

-“The Pluto girl is the horse, she’s making sinkholes along the tracks to our base, trying to dilute the flow of soldiers. You can be the dog, it’s cute.”

-“You think I’m cute?”

-His smile when he said that was in fact, cute, but you didn’t tell him that. Instead you picked up another of the little coloured markers, and moved it to where you’d initially put the dog. “Fine, you can be the toucan, because you’re an imbecile.”

-“No wait, I wanna be the dog now... And what did toucans ever do to you?”

»»————-　★　————-««

-You became quite accustomed to the sound of smooth clicking, a scrape, and then Percy yelping and bumping into the back of you over the next few days.

To the north, beyond the gods, lies the legion's crown.

Falling from ice, the son of Neptune shall drown.

-You didn’t see him off.

-You knew it wasn’t polite, the entirety of the army stood on the shore as Percy, the Pluto girl, and the boy who cared for the war elephant waved them off. But you stayed at your post by the border instead, watching cloud animals and pretending not to see someone sinking to their death in each one.

-But the army didn’t sit with him at every meal because technically, you were a superior and didn’t have an assigned legion, you had just usually sat with Reyna or Jason. You’d eat the breads and nuts and fruits the satyrs and harpies brought while Percy ate everything in sight that was even slightly blue.

-The army wasn’t given a daisy chain as a crown when you showed Percy through the gardens, the trees and flowers acting as borders to the paths leading across the city in the direction of the universities and shops. The army didn’t find an old basketball in the weapons shed and learn to play with Percy, because he couldn’t remember playing before, but he was good.

-The army didn’t sneak him into the stables because really you weren’t allowed but somehow the rearing black stallions calmed him when his breathing got too fast and uneven.

-The army didn’t sit at the edge of the river bed while he ducked under and splashed around like a happy duckling. That stopped when the prophecy was first spoken. Percy skirted around puddles on the last day.

»»————-　★　————-««

-There was blood. Lots of it. Smoke wafting from the scattered fires and screams piercing the muggy air.

-You held your weapon tightly in your hand, back to back with Dakota as he brandished a baseball bat wound tight with thorny vines that curled and writhed like snakes.

-Monsters crawled over the mountain ridge in waves, at least half of them squashed by the giant stomping in circles and roaring, creating miniature earthquakes with each step. Alcyoneus was forty feet tall, his skin a metallic sort of color that shone like the sun Helios was bringing into the middle of the stormy sky.

-The fifth legion ran into places, maps and diagrams you’d drilled into them, finally being put to use as they worked effortlessly. The war elephant had doubled, somehow, and both charged at the violent giant currently ripping the roof off the stables, knocking him sideways.

-For a short moment, you assumed maybe a finger had been cut off from the monster, as a bronze sort of color streaked across the horizon, but then it came to a stop in front of Lavinia, who was dragging an unconscious demigod across the battlefield in the direction of the hidden medic base by the university.

-Hazel, the Pluto girl [you’d finally learnt her name] sat atop a stallion, her cavalry helmet over her curly hair. You made eye contact, and her shoulder sunk, but you weren’t sure if it was with relief or disappointment. You couldn’t see her expression from across the bloodstained distance, but you could see the blue harpy foaming at the mouth behind her, talons outstretched.

-You turned to Dakota, but he was already kneeling a little, bracing himself as you stepped on one of his hands, and then he launched you forwards and up, up into the smokey air filled with screams and wails.

-Time slowed a little as you positioned yourself, wind whipping your eyes and making them sting. Hazel ducked as you flipped over her and landed on the Harpies back, rolling it away and further down the hill. Talons raked your cheek, and you whacked it over the head, hard.

-The bronze streak was gone already. Somehow the horse was running vertically up the side of the giant, and then began circling its neck.

-The sleeve of your purple shirt was ripped free and you held it to your face, the deep cuts dripping down your neck and already staining your skin in dark red blotches. Pain prickled, but you felt a chill down your spine, and by the time you had turned, the horned snake’s jaw was already unhinged, fangs dripping with something dark and oily and ready to bite.

-Your heart slowed, or maybe it sped up, all you knew was that it was the only thing you could hear.

-You held your arms in front of your scratched up face and tried to roll, but the snake's tail was already heavy across you, pining you to the blood stained cobblestone ground. You reached for where your weapon had been lost in the wrestle a moment before, but then there was a dragged out squelching sound and a ‘shing’.

-The snake froze, and then its head slipped off its body, landing by Percy’s feet.

-He launched forwards as quickly as the snake had, only he pulled you from the cocoon of scales, panting. Your hands shook, and Percy’s eyes widened when he spotted the splatter of blood on your neck, his face going pale.

-You shook your head weakly, “just my cheek, it’s not bad.”

-He nodded, and then you were once again wrapped up tightly, this time by Percy’s arms. You noticed vaguely that he was actually pretty buff, but then you felt your eyes prickle with emotion.

-He stepped back quickly, ducking his head, “sorry, I..”

-“You didn’t drown.”

- “I technically did but it’s all good now-”

-You cut him off with another hug, your face buried in his shoulder, probably covering him in your own blood as well, but Percy didn’t seem to mind when he hugged you back, chest heaving. You sniffed, trying not to cry, hands tight around his hoodie, “you smell like incense and hay.”

-“That, yeah that explains a lot of it actually.”

-“You don’t get to go on another quest without me, that’s an order.”

-“Yes please.”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percyjackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #Percy Jackson fandom #roman reader #Percy Jackson x roman reader

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rowanrabbit · 1 year

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There was once a beautiful princess who was engaged to a prince from a faraway land. The match was arranged from their birth, and the princess’s whole young life was spent preparing for the marriage. But when she finally met the prince, only a week before their wedding, she found him intolerably arrogant and cruel.

“I would rather marry the devil,” she said to herself, and that night, a devil appeared at her bedroom window.

He swept into the room on a gust of air and stood there as tall as the ceiling, a great big beast with long sharp claws and teeth, wide leathery wings and a tail that whipped back and forth with feral excitement. He fell to his knees on the floor before her, and took her little hands in his.

“I’ve come to steal you away,” he said.

“To where?” demanded the princess.

He scooped her up in his enormous arms. “To my castle,” he said with his fangs at her ear.

He took her to the open window and launched back into the night, catching the air with his powerful wings and carrying the princess away.

They flew through the night for many miles, until they came to a beautiful palace carved from soft white stone, its spiraling towers gleaming with moonlight against the dark mountains. They went in through a tall tower window and landed in a bedroom decorated with dark wood and soft white silks. The devil laid the princess down on a soft bed, where she fell asleep.

The next morning she woke up alone in the beautiful room, and waited for the devil to come to her, which he did before long.

“How did you know that I wanted you last night?” she asked.

“The devil always comes when he is called,” he replied. “I’ve brought you here to make you my bride, lovely one. Will you accept?”

“I will accept,” said the princess, “but only if you court me according to the customs of my people.”

“Tell me what I must do,” said the devil.

“On the first night,” said the princess, “you must bring me a beautiful jewel.”

“It will be done,” said the devil, but just then, there came the sounds of a commotion outside. They went to the window and saw an army of a hundred men at the castle gates, led by the cruel and arrogant prince.

“He’s come to take you back,” said the devil.

“Don’t let him,” said the princess.

“Yes, my lady,” said the devil. He spread his wide wings and flew down from the tower window to meet the men at the gates. All day long, the princess watched through the window as they did battle. The human men were no match for the devil’s terrible claws and teeth. By sunset he had driven them all away. The princess was glad, but she saw that he’d had no time to collect any jewels for her.

“Where is my jewel?” she asked coyly, when the devil returned to her room.

“Here it is, beautiful one,” said the devil. In his hands was a perfect round orange that he’d plucked from a tree in the garden, with a dark green leaf still attached. He peeled it open in his great claws to reveal the segments of soft flesh, faceted and sparkling like gems. The princess was delighted, and she allowed the devil to feed her the soft sweet slices.

He returned to her the next morning, ready for his second task.

“What next, my lady?” he asked.

“On this second night,” said the princess, “you must serenade me with a beautiful song.”

“It will be done,” said the devil, but just then, there was another great commotion at the castle gates. They went to the window and saw that the prince had returned with an army of a thousand men.

“So many this time…” said the princess.

“I won’t let them take you,” the devil said to her. He leapt out the bedroom window and flew down to face the army of men. All day long, the princess sat at the window and watched the ferocious battle taking place. This time the devil summoned mighty winds full of dust and hale, and jets of fire that shot up out of the earth, and he cut through through shields and armor with fiery swords. By the end of the day, he had driven the army away yet again. The princess was very impressed, but she knew he’d had no time to tune his instruments or practice his songs.

“Where are your instruments?” she asked, when the devil returned to her room.

“Let me take you to them,” he said, and gathered her up in his arms. He leapt out of the window with her—a thing the princess was somehow getting used to—and they flew away from the castle, to a hidden gorge tucked between two mountains, where a little winding brook burbled through a meadow of soft grass spotted with trees.

The devil set the princess down on her feet in the grass.

“I see nothing,” she said.

“You must listen,” said the devil.

She listened, and she noticed that the chuckling babble of the brook was almost like a soft little song, and the crickets hidden in the grass all around were rubbing their legs together like bows on strings, like a tiny little orchestra. And when the wind blew, it whooshed deeply through the walls of the gorge, rustling the leaves of the trees, and every so often an owl hooted too. It was as lovely as music, and they stood together listening for most of the night, until the devil carried her back to the bedroom so she could sleep.

He returned to her the next morning. “What must I do next?” he said.

“This is the final night of our courting,” she said, "and you must prepare a grand feast.”

“It will be done,” said the devil. But they both listened for the telltale sounds of swords and marching feet, and heard them, and going to the window they saw that the prince had arrived at the gates once again, leading an army of ten thousand men.

“Let them take me back,” said the princess, looking over the vast army. "You'll be hurt."

“Don’t be afraid,” said the devil, “for I cannot be felled by mortal men.” He went out through the window and flew to meet the oncoming army. And as he flew he grew, twenty feet tall, fifty feet, one hundred, one thousand feet tall, until he landed on the battlefield with a thunderous crash, towering over the terrified army. Many men turned and fled right then. But the arrogant prince would not be dissuaded, and he led the remaining men against the beast. Their swords and arrows were practically useless, their horses were wild with terror, and their morale drained away like sand through a sieve.

The battle finally ended in the evening. The prince had limped away in secret, defeated for the final time. Many men lay dead, while those still living scattered into the mountains. The devil slowly returned to his original size, lying down in the dirt among the dead, unharmed but exhausted from his great transformation. The princess left the palace and went to him, and took his large clawed hand in hers.

“Forgive me, lovely one,” he said, “for I have prepared no feast for you.”

“No?” asked the princess, looking around. Hundreds of ravens had descended upon the battlefield, already tearing into the fresh corpses, and wolves and lions were emerging from the woods to join them. “I think the feast is already under way,” said the princess, “and the guests are enjoying it very much.”

The devil laughed wickedly at that. “I think you might be a bit of a devil yourself,” he said. They were married on the next evening, and they are still living happily to this day.

#short story #fairy tale #exophilia #stolen bride #demon x human #demon boyfriend #monster boyfriend

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stromuprisahat · 3 months

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I keep insisting that while a lovely idea, appointment of the Grisha triumvirate is more of a joke and recipe for disaster, than a political step forward.

Today, I’m going to question Genya’s part specifically.

At the beginning, Genya’s introduced as a unique talent with predispositions to work of both Corporanik and Materialnik. She chooses her kefta’s colours herself- blue on red (which still doesn’t make sense, since blue is established as Summoners’ colour- literally the only Order she DOESN’T belong to). At the end ot the trilogy, Alina picks her as a representative of all Corporalki.

The obvious favouritism aside, ignoring lack of experience in leadership, I’m asking- what does Genya know about her Order itself?

Due to the nature of her assignment, she spent most of her life away from Little Palace. While she would understand the inner workings of the Grand Palace, Second Army and the woes of its people isn’t something she’d be closely familiar with. She even admits there’s a distance between her and other Grisha.

More pressingly- what does she know about the work of her Order? I’d like to assume she got some sort of basic training, but she doesn’t seem to know about anything more advanced. Although she could’ve lied (or withhold), according to her tour in Shadow and Bone, she’s never even been inside Corporalki worshops (while she’s spending a lot of her free time with Materialki).

“We’re on the other side of the Corporalki anatomy rooms.”

“Don’t they need light to … do their work?”

“Skylights,” she said. “In the roof, like the library dome. They prefer it that way. It keeps them and their secrets safe.”

“But what do they do in there?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer.

“Only the Corporalki know. But there are rumors that they’ve been working with the Fabrikators on new … experiments.”

How can she represent people she isn’t particularly close to, and whose work she knows virtually nothing about?!

#Grishaverse #grishanalyticritical #Genya Safin #Grisha triumvirate #The Righteous Gang™#Second Army #Corporalki #S&B Chapter 8 #V #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #anti Leigh Bardugo #If Alina wanted to get Genya a position in government #she should've been either spymaster #or a diplomat.#If she were to represent Grisha Order #it should've been Fabricators.

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moonlightgrisha · 1 year

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How to lose a secret

Ch. 5 Life as you know is coming to and end, as your secret is dangerously close to be revealed for good. [Masterlist] Previous - Next

As soon as you get off your horse, you know something is wrong.

Guards are waiting for you at the stable, which is definitely odd.

"How can I help you?" you ask politely, forcing yourself to smile.

"You must follow us", they answer. "The King and Queen require your presence at once".

Something is definitely wrong. "Just... let me stop by my rooms. I can't meet the King and Queen in this state".

You're dusty and sweaty for the ride, but the truth is that you are trying to buy some time. While you get cleaned, and the guards are waiting outside your door, you think and think, but your mind seems to have stopped working. You are still overwhelmed with what happened on the hill, but you didn't expect guards to come after you so soon. Also, they are First Army soldiers. Is the Darkling already here? Has he sold you out, yet?

You need to calm down.

So, you dress for battle. You put on your best garment. You braid your hair tightly.

Then you present yourself to the guards, and they lead you to the royal quarters, not so far away from your own. They shove you in, unannounced, and you almost stumble on your way in.

You disguise your loss of balance with a pretty curtsy, just as you should, but when you rise, your see the Darkling looking back at you.

"What is he doing here?" You cannot help yourself. He's right there, next to the King and Queen, in front of you. What you really mean is, "you traitor", but he doesn't even flinch. He just stares at you, emotionless, and that makes you so angry. It almost hurts, a little. But maybe that hard face means that he has nothing to do with all of this.

"You forget your manners", the Queen says. Of course.

"Forgive me, your Majesty". You look down and say nothing more, but you clench your fists, hard.

"The General has been summoned to help with this matter". As King Piotr speaks, you immediately realize that the matter is you.

The Queen continues. "We heard rumors."

You feel your heart missing a beat. "What rumors, your Majesty?"

"About you, cousin. Stories were collected from that village in the moorland, where your mother insists on living".

"You... investigated on me?"

"Just a precaution. You lived quite a retired life, cousin. I needed to know something more about you, before making any matches"

You know what's coming, but you can't stop it, and you wait there, listening. Your eyes shift to the side and you catch a glimpse of the Darkling. He's there, listening, pretending he's not that interested, once more. But he drinks on every word.

"Some people swear you spent almost every night in the woods".

You wonder how you'll get away with it, this time. You feel trapped.

"You don't deny it?". The Queen insists, since you say nothing.

"I'm quite the sleepwalker, moya tsaritsa", you answer. Half a truth, as always, the wisest choice, but maybe not now.

"This is not simple sleepwalking". The King sounds enraged, and you wince. "There are tales of strange things happening in those woods. Flashes. White lights. Some people told they saw your skin glistening."

All those years, you never realized you were spied on, or at least that somebody had seen you. You had been a naive little girl, playing with your secret. Tears are burning in your throat, but you swallow them. You are not giving any of them this satisfaction.

"Were you tested, as a child?" the King asks.

"Like everybody", you whisper, and the royal couple should know well enough what that means. Royal children were rarely tested. It was all a farce. Any Grisha in the royal family would have been quite difficult to handle, if not an embarassment, so their power were suppressed, or kept hidden. And there you were.

You don't know if the Darkling is aware of that, but he places a claw-shaped ring on his right thumb, then takes a steps towards you.

"You arm, please".

You suddenly realize that he's been keeping your secret. He told nothing to the tsar and he's not telling it now. He could easily reveal the truth, it would be a matter of seconds anyway.

But he's not betraying you.

The fact that he places his hand on your sleeve confirms it. He knows what happens, when he touches your skin.

You look at each other in the eye, while he pierces your forearm with his ring, and you don't stop looking, not even when a glistening, ethereal white light emerges from the wound. It's a melancholy light, the one that slips on your bedpost when you lie awake while the whole world drifts away in slumber. There is a long pause before the King asks: "Is that it? Is she the Sun Summoner?"

"No". The Darkling replies. He's still looking at you. He seems he'll never stop looking. "It's not the Sun".

You finally speak. "It's the Moon".

He breaks the spell, lifting the ring from your arm, but he doesn't really let go. Not yet. His hand lingers on you skin for a moment, while he gives you the faintest smile.

You should be desperate, but somehow you feel relieved. There's a freedom that comes with truth, even with the hardest one. Even if it means sacrificing everything that you were before.

The King has no time for sentimentality. "So? Can we use her?"

"Excuse me!?" You cannot believe your ears. The Darkling is still holding you and you abruptly lower your arm, breaking any connection with him that was left. "Use me for what?!"

The King ignores you. "Will she tear down the Fold, or not?"

You are in disbelief. There are a million answers you can think of, and not even a polite one. The Darkling too is about to speak, with a grave look on his face and probably a rehearsed reply. But the Queen precedes both of you.

"Patience, my dear husband" She manages to gracefully smile, somehow. "She is family. This must be handled with... discretion".

"Yes. It is necessary". The King looks at you like a strange creature. "The fact that you hid this power from us, under our own roof, it's more than a lack of respect. This is high treason. It is unacceptable".

You are quite sure they won't execute you, if you are so useful as you seem to be, but still a mixture of fear and rage takes over your mind. It is too late, now, for pleasantries, and you just snap.

"This... power, it is mine to give" you roar. "It is not a weapon, nor a tool, and it is not yours! And if you want it, you could have asked nicely, moy tsar".

"How DARE you-"

Just then the Darkling intervenes.

"She will move to the Little Palace at once. It's the safest place for her, and discretion is guaranteed".

You turn to him, eyes wide. "I'm just over here, thank you for asking".

"Oh, no one is asking you, cousin". The Queen articulates her words like you were a small child. "You kept a dangerous secret, and we are not going to investigate it further, as it turns out to be quite precious to our country. And you want what's best for the country, don't you, dove?"

"Naturally", you reply, grudgingly.

"You will be doing as you're told", the King concludes. "We will ask for weekly reports on this matter". That word, again. That's what you are.

The General bows his head. "That will be done, moy tsar".

The King gives you a last glance, then says: "You are dismissed".

You follow the General outside. There's no one else with you, and you expect him to turn and talk, maybe to gloat for entrapping you at last. Instead he walks in silence.

You break the silence first. "Did you tell them?" You want to hear from him.

"I told them nothing", he replies. "It appears it was just good timing. Or bad timing, as you wish".

"You must be pleased", you mutter.

"And why should I be?" He finally stops and turns to you. "Your own family didn't hesitate to sell you to me. Because that's what we are, to them: weapons. Precious commodities, as long as they have a use for us. I'll never be pleased to witness such trade".

That was unexpected. His words are overwhelming, and tears come back in your throat. By the time you have swallowed them down, he has started walking again.

"I'm not a fighter", you say, following him.

He glances over his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"I'm no soldier and I'll never be".

"You don't need to be a soldier".

He keeps leading the way, but you hate to stay behind. So you speed up, until the two of you walk side by side.

As he turns your head to you, you whisper: "Better get used to it."

You keep your eyes in front of you, and don't see his bright smile.

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jmdbjk · 1 year

Text

Good morning! Pt. 1

Breakfast: scrambled eggs with heavy cream mixed with cut up cup noodles and brown rice = under 500 calories.

His shoulder is bothering him. Not good.

He has turtleneck syndrome but obvs not the kind that makes us weak in the knees.

He's working out, pilates, going to the dermatologist, ignoring his guitar lessons, a day in the life of just being The Bun.

He will rest at the dermatologists... lol.

Because he's been a couch potato, his muscles deteriorated and that's why he's having trouble with aches and pains. Getting old sucks, Koo.

Damn the sounds his body makes when he cracks his bones...holy shit. Sounded like dominos falling.

He's going to invest in some workout equipment to keep at home... why he doesn't already have that, who knows. I guess because that's not his permanent home. He said he ordered some equipment but sounds suspiciously like it will sit in the box unassembled for a while...

Kookie, you spent six months being a couch potato in your mikrokosmos cave NOW you are going to invest in home workout equipment right when you are starting to ramp up on activities?

Y'all.. when I say he is the most adorable thing explaining in detail how to correct your posture and giving us walking and sleeping techniques to strengthen the neck and back... I just want to put him in my pocket.

"My here..." and he pats the backs of his legs... my god Kookie. Stob it.

He's killin' me. The most adorable goofball.

He scrolled through the comments and couldn't figure out why some disappear. Who's gonna tell him? Not me.

He's already talking about lunch... salad... superfoods... he found a great salad place and will have that with smoked duck or chicken. Eating healthy.

Kookie Pookie TMI: he might be lactose intolerant. Dairy doesn't agree with him. But he eats it anyway. Same, same.

Sooo many details... shampoo, body wash, face... towels...

His ghostbusters phase... he summoned the spirits from the netherworld with gadgets but never saw or heard any. (The other members did though. That explains everything.)

ISFP (Introverted, Sensing, Feeling, Perceiving) People with this personality type tend to be peaceful, easy-going, and down-to-earth individuals. They have a strong need for personal space and value time alone to recharge. He needs to have some management. I've said this before. He is not a self-starter.

Now he's talking about setting up a movie date with Army but how to sneak it past the company. He needs to hire a spy. All of a sudden we're conspiring to do something without the company knowing and have a private movie date with Kookie...

This man who stood in the middle of Coachella and didn't think he'd be recognized because he cut his bangs.... is trying to sneak out of the house to go to see a movie with us. What could go wrong?

The imbeciles who keep asking him to speak another language and not Korean. Brainless people who waste everyone's time by typing those comments during a live.

Hold up buttercup. What's that dark area under his jawline?

[squints at the pixels... hmmm]

The Rainy Day Fight story.... this is the most precious retelling of one of the most (formerly) mysterious moments in Jikookistory. Bless the Army who caught his eye with this request in the comments.

According to Jungkook: It happened in the early years, JK was acting like a petulant teenager and pissed everyone off, even "angelic" Hobi-hyung got mad. Jimin even got pissed off. So much so he told JK he wasn't going to take care of him any longer (I've always suspected that Jimin held some responsibility over JK when they were younger and this might be JK confirming that.) JK stormed out of the building and started walking and got lost. He admits he's directionally challenged. THAT'S WHY JIMIN SAID BAM DOESN'T PAY ATTENTION TO HIS SURROUNDINGS JUST LIKE HIS DAD!

Anyway, JK, in the midst of his temper tantrum, got lost and started to panic but first he had to overcome his pride. He called Jimin, hung up on him and then did it again and on the third call, Jimin quickly answered. I think the panic was overwhelming JK by this time and the avalanche of emotions caved in on him. Poor Jimin probably also was worried by this time, especially after JK couldn't figure out where he was. The telling of how he broke down sobbing while talking to Jimin is so sweet and pure. WHO tells other people they actually did this? The details????

Somehow, Kookie found a taxi and got back to the dorm with Jimin standing there waiting. What a story. Jimin took him up to the roof where they could talk in private and I'm sure the words spoken there made an impact on Kookie. He thoroughly regretted it, enough that he had to bring it up during Festa 2020 and say he felt sorry that he made Jimin feel so bad that day.

All of that in the first 38 minutes of his hour and 45 minute live...

Then he proceeded to wake up the neighbors and ruin his furniture at the same time by drumming on his coffee table.

He tossed a book around for a few seconds... Crying In H Mart by Michelle Zauner, in case anyone wants to read what Kookie is reading. Except I think that's the first time he's actually touched the book because there was a big ass brochure in the middle of it that he had no idea was there.

It seemed like a booklist brochure advertising the latest and best books.

omg... bless his heart...

Next topic: Yoongi's concert. Was Kookie watching a fancam livestream of Yoongi's concert too?

HE'S JUST LIKE US! HE SAW JIMIN AT YOONGI'S CONCERT! I BET MANAGER-NIM WAS LIVE STREAMING THE CONCERT!!!

He tells us he will go see Yoongi's concert (I'm assuming in Seoul). Sadly, Jimin might be in Europe on those days. We'll see.

All of a sudden he's blaming fruit flies for knocking over the phone. I didn't say it, he did.

Scrolling through his video library/youtube/whatever he has tons of cooking shows. He mentions 1mincook several times which is a channel of "1 minute cooking" dishes. Quick meals. All the videos are a minute in length. Perfect for JK's short attention span.

Jeon Jungkook is one of the most unpretentious people I've ever seen in my life.

I am 50 minutes into this live. He was very gregarious and jumped from one thing to the next.

I will run out of image space on this post so Part 2 coming soon!

#as many things as he's started and quit #as many times as he's said he's lazy #the Rainy Day Fight #jikook #kook cooks a lot #i would bet on a stack of bibles manager-nim was livestreaming that newark concert

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stormblessed95 · 1 year

Text

230328 JK Live Stream all about Jimin for 100 minutes

The way that he basically started this live solely to talk about/focus on Jimin? Like sir, what were we even here for? Just to watch you support your boo? I'm actually totally fine with that. Lmao he talked about himself and his CK deal for like 10 minutes before moving on to Jimin and Jimin only. Lol he said "I Miss Jimin" literally, on weverse and then proceeded to show us just how much he missed him!

The way he fully stated he started this live because he hasn't seen Suchwita yet but since Jimin was on the show, he wanted to watch it and wanted to watch it with us. Cutie. You can watch his full reaction video with eng subs here:

youtube

He immediately wanted to know why Jimin wasn't there right off the bat 🤣 then was looking forward to what Alcohol Jimin brought with him to share. And was not surprised at all to find it was Soju saying that's "very much like Jimin hyung." The drinking buddies those 2 are, he WOULD know. Lol and his little complaints about wishing he was there drinking with yoonmin too were adorable.

The way he was concerned over Jimin eating the too hot food. And the way he giggled over yoonmin talking about Jimin performing on stage with Yoongi on tour and about Jimin acting cute for his face time fan calls.

And the confirmation from yet another member that the dumpling incident was watered way down for fan consumption when they shared about it and it really was so crazy. Lmfao vmin what did yall do!!

Plus we were blessed with a small glimpse of his beautiful smile and reaction to the iconic jikook black swan lift 🥺😭😍

The way he immediately agreed with Jimin about being in BTS for a long long time. 🥺 and his cute comments about how the show seems fun and he would also like to be on it one day! And the way he started to compliment Jimin on the way he expressed himself but cut himself off/got distracted lol

He reacted to SMF pt 2 MV here too. Lol and loved it. Throughly. Lol full video here:

youtube

He wanted to confirm the lyrics correctly especially for the maze lyrics. He was humming along and also lowkey already knew the choreo too. It was so cute. I love him.

And the way he smiled so proudly during the "I won't stop even if they mock me" lyrics 🥺

How we got the transition into shirtless Jimin and verse 2 and we just breifly totally lost JK there. 404 error not found is correct. Slack jawed for a bit there understandably lol

The way he heaped praise upon verse 2 which was so heartwarming

And he watched the dance practice for SMFpt2 too, which you can see the whole reaction here

youtube

The way he was humming along and then dancing along lmfao he didn't have to go so hard with the Summoning park jimin dance 🤣

And we even reacted to a BTS teasing Jimin compilation video??? Lmao jungkook??

youtube

PLEASE just watch the linked video. Lmfao it's less than 10 minutes and he looks SO SMITTEN the ENTIRE TIME. The reaction to their jikook moments from so long ago? The giggles at the other members lovingly teasing Jimin too? The way he melted watching Jimin sing promise too? MY HEART CANT HANDLE IT I CANT BELIEVE HE REACTED TO A JIMIN COMPILATION HONESTLY

Just the whole live he looks soooo??? In love?

And he commented about how he watched Jimins pixid video too and enjoyed it. Lol it really was just a night of binge watching Jimin for this man.

He is really just out here supporting Jimin fully and he misses him so much. We know they've been spending time together too. They mentioned JK being at some of Jimins Rehersals. We know they met with up with the other members for an OT7 dinner. I just know there is more we don't know too. But it just speaks to how much time they normally spend together when that's clearly not enough and the way they are missing each other SO MUCH even with those other times spent together. They are used to living in each other's pockets clearly lol. And now that they have so much going on and Jimins schedules are so crazy, that time apart is driving JK to do a 100 minute live stream about how much he misses his hyung. Lol Jimin you better go over their for that promised dinner he wants to cook for you!

Not to mention, JK really brought it back to prove his point. Jimin is his catalyst. His inspiration at so many times. JK really sat there and watched Jimin for 100 minutes and then immediately said goodbye to us because he was struck with inspiration and motivation to go work. "I suddenly feel like I have to go do something." "I think I have to go work." "I'm going to go work now! Bye!" With an abrupt hang up! Lol it was giving, I don't want to say more than i should about Jimin right now and wow, the inspiration struck and I REALLY am interested in seeing whatever it is you worked on Jungkook! Music? Art? New song? If Jimin inspired you so much, I'm very intrigued! 🤣

They really are so precious. So cute. And so sweet. I hope they got to go over and spend some lengthy time together already, or if not. I hope they get the chance really soon. As they are both very clearly craving that time together!

Ending with this funny tweet (follow the link!) Because it's so true 🤣🤣🤣

#jikook #kookmin #jikook on vlive #jikook reactions #jikook in 2023 #jikook missing each other #230328 jikook #230328 JK live

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specialagentlokitty · 2 months

Text

Saul silva x reader - in the eyes of a god

Part 2:

Saul kept his eye o it for you during the entirety of the training session, but you weren’t anywhere to be found.

He wasn’t sure what you were, if what you said was true or not, so when training came to an end he headed to the library.

Alfea wasn’t exactly short of books, especially books based of its history and similar themes, so there was no doubt in his mind there would’ve been something.

He decided to look for books on family insignias, no doubt that’s what was engraved into your wrist brace, so it would be easier to track who you were or at least what family you belonged to.

Taking the book he was looking for from the shelf, he walked over to a table and set it down, turning the lamp on.

He sat down, and began the process of looking through each and every one if the pages.

None of the ones he was coming across seemed like a match, and he sighed, setting the book aside.

“Looking for something?” Farah asked.

“You remember the person who attacked the specialists?”

She nodded her head, making her way over.

“Yes, I did try to track them, but I couldn’t find anything, not even a magic trail was left behind.”

“That’s impossible, they used magic Farah, I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“Then they’re incredible at covering their tracks, because I couldn’t find one, even Ben tried, nothing he made showed any trace on that scorch mark.”

He pinched the bridge if his nose, tilting his head back slightly.

“I’ve had a look, I can’t find the insignia. It’s the only book we have as well.”

Farah stood next to him, taking a look at the cover of the book before she shook her head.

“There is another one, hold on.”

Taking the book he was looking through, and placed it back on the shelf, then she walked back over, gesturing for him to follow her.

They both made their way to the far end of the library, to the restricted section, and she opened it, letting them both in.

“I keep this one locked away because of the types of families that are included. Students don’t need to know about these people, or what they’ve done.”

Farah walked over to a shelf, unlocking a glass cabinet and she pulled out a book, placing it on the pedestal.

“Most of these were known dangerous families, it individuals, all of them are long gone, but it was settled that it was for the best that they couldn’t possibly find a link between these people and them if they’re related.”

Saul opened the book, slowly going through the pages, and some of the names he recognised.

Some were renowned threats to the realm years ago, some of them were taught in basic classes, as a lesson about how dangerous it was to mess with magic.

Others he had never heard off.

“This one.”

He pointed to the page and Farah looked at it.

“The (L/N) family, not really noticeable for anything truly significant. There’s no real history on them or the people of the family, or family tree or anything. It’s not really known what kind of family they were or what powers they possessed.” Farah read.

Saul nodded his head, then turned the page, and he studied the image, pointing to it.

“Not until this one at least. The only member of the family that made any sort of name for themselves.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), age unknown, strength unknown, agility unknown, powers unknown. The only thing reported about them is the fact they could summon lightening.”

“Air fairy?” He asked.

“I don’t think so, it takes a lot of power and training to do something like that more than once. If they are they definitely spent time practicing. What else does it say?”

Saul turned back to the book.

“(Y/N) was a general for the solarian army, it doesn’t say when, they were strong but unpredictable, always rushing head first into battle, as time went on it was reported that they slowly began to slip into a state of bloodlust, became too dangerous. One day they just disappeared. It was rumoured they were executed but it was never confirmed.”

Farah nodded her head, and Saul closed the book, handing it back to her so she could put it away.

“It isn’t far off that they wound become the god of war, people have become gods for far less. I mean looked at your family tree, your ancestor became the god of blacksmithing.”

Saul sighed, leaving the enclosed space and he waited for her on the other side.

“Even if that’s true, they don’t interact with people, not without reason. All of them also left when modern technology came about, they didn’t like it.”

“When was the first time you encountered them?”

“Training, I was in the middle of putting up one of the ribbons when they attacked.”

“Well if that was their shrine then they wouldn’t have liked you leaving something there, and what brought them here?”

Saul followed Farah out of the library and down the hallway.

“Riven stole something from the shrine and they wanted it back, then engaged me in combat but never threw a hit at me.”

“They could’ve seriously hurt any one of you if they really wanted to, but they didn’t.”

“Exactly, so, why are they still here?”

“What makes you think they are?”

Saul stopped for a moment, looking out if the window.

“It’s a feeling I have, but I can’t find them.”

Farah placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Get some rest, I’m sure they’ll leave you alone now.”

He nodded, making his way back to his room to get ready to sleep.

Knowing you were out there it made it hard for him to get a good sleep, even as days slipped by he still found it hard to properly rest.

You studied his training, watching how he taught his students and it made you scoff slightly.

He was good, you’d give him that.

Standing in the wall, you crossed your arms as you looked down at him tidying the training grounds.

“You’re strong, but your form is inadequate at best. You’re still, you have now fluidity to your movements. Seriously, who taught you such weak fighting stances?” You huffed.

Saul drew his sword and looked towards the wall that you had shouted down from.

You titled your head to the side a little bit, grinning ever so slightly.

“Seriously, you pass your technique on and they just change it, rather disrespectful if you ask me.”

Putting your hands in your pockets you titled your head back just a little bit.

“I could easily defeat you with my hands in my pockets.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asked.

Going based of what Saul had read about you he theorised that you wouldn’t be one to turn away when presented with a challenge.

You had a big ego, and you would do anything to prove that you’re stronger than anybody.

So when you grinned even more, eyes widening slightly with excitement he knew he was right.

You jumped down, bringing your hands up to unclasped your cloak, then you took your sword off and dropped it next to your cloak.

You put your hands in your pockets, and you looked down your nose at him.

“It absolutely is. If you manage to win I’ll train you myself to be a true fighter.”

“And if you win?”

You shrugged slightly.

“You have nothing I could want, I just think it’ll be fun. I’ve done my research on your Saul silva, the best specialist in Solaria, let’s see if you live up to that name shall we? Don’t hold back now.”

Saul charged for you, swinging his sword, and just as quick as blink of an eye, you were gone, you stood behind him, turning to the side as he swung the sword backwards.

You were just toying with him, sometimes you’d let him get close to managing to land a hit on you, other times you would just completely avoid his advances.

Even without you attacking back, hands in your pockets he couldn’t even get a scratch in you.

You were fast, agile and able to move in ways he hadn’t even seen before.

You had a unique technique that was unpredictable, he couldn’t guess your next move or where you were going to move to next.

You kept going around in circles around him, ducking, jumping, moving from side to side.

You weren’t even breaking a sweat.

“Oh you are determined, I admire that. I remember when my foes had such determination, oh how fun it was to watch them fall!”

You spun around, finally bringing your leg up and you slammed it into his chest, sending him flying backwards, sword falling from his grasp.

Walking over to him, you stood above his head, leaning down to look at him, a frown on your face.

“You’re predicable, it’s pathetic. You don’t change your routine, it makes it easy to guess your next move.”

Huffing, you stood up, walking over to his sword you you kicked it over, then made your way to your things.

You put your sword back on your belt, then picked your cloak up, putting it back around your shoulders and turned around to look at him.

“Swordsmanship used to be a craft of art, now it’s just a pitiful display. That really pisses me off.”

“Well it’s not fair if I’m fighting an apparent god.”

Saul ran at you once more, this time you didn’t even move, you just reached out, grabbing his wrist, bending it it backwards so he would drop his sword.

“Never go for the cheap shot, it pisses me off when somebody tries to use a cheap shot, that’s not very respectful you know.”

“Respectful?” He scoffed.

You pushed him back, placing your foot on his sword to stop his advances in order to get it.

“You must always respect your opponent Saul Silva, if you don’t you get cocky, if you get cocky you get killed.”

“You’re cocky.”

You scoffed a little, placing your foot under his sword you kicked it up, catching it by the hilt as you studied it.

Jumping backwards you landed on the wall so he wasn’t able to reach you.

“I’m not cocky, I know what I can do. There’s a difference.”

You looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Your sword is dull, it’s weak.”

You threw it down, stabbing it into the ground below.

“You give swordsmen a bad name with your horrific training, your terrible weapons.”

He scoffed, walking over to pick up his sword and he put it away.

You clearly weren’t going to attack him, you had absolutely no interest in that whatsoever.

Whether you enjoyed taunting him or trying to piss him off was behind you.

A smirk slowly spread across your face, and you crouched down, resting your arms on your knees.

“I’ll train you.”

“What makes you think I’d want that? Plus I never won the fight.”

“I admire your dedication to the craft none the less.”

Standing up, you pointed at him.

“You shall be my prodigy!”

#fate the winx saga #fate the winx saga x reader #fate the winx saga x you #fate the winx saga imagine #Saul silva #saul silva x reader #saul silva x you #Saul silva imagine

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