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marvelmusing · 22 days

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Set In Stone

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sankta Alina and the Darkling rule over those who live in the hidden realm of magic. Alina herself is particularly fond of turning those who trespass onto their kingdom into statues. Legend says they like to toy with their victims, and if they think you’re pretty enough they just might keep you forever.

Warnings [18+]: sexual content, non consensual human to statue transformation, dub con fingering, very brief anal fingering, nudity, mild threat, Aleksander and Alina collect people consensually (excluding the reader), praise kink, sensory depravation, smidge of humiliation kink and exhibitionism

A/N: just me dropping a big fic out of nowhere, don’t ask me what this is, I don’t even know, it’s mostly vibes (kinky magical vibes)

My Masterlist

“Did you know, I can choose what kind of statue someone will turn into?”

She ignores the quiet, fearful whimper that escapes you. Instead, she continues to talk, playing with your hair as she sits in your lap. Despite the blindfold looped around your head, you keep your eyes squeezed tightly shut, your heart hammering against your ribs. She hums thoughtfully.

“I think I want you to be marble. Something smooth.” Her hand rubs over your thigh, pushing aside the delicate fabric of your dress to reveal your bare skin and a shudder runs through your body. She laughs. “My apologies.” Her tone turns teasing, dripping with faux sympathy. “Are my hands too cold?”

Being an expert in Ravkan mythology, you had expected to find some artefacts or ancient stone carvings in these caves - not the infamous Sankta Alina. Known as a trickster goddess, the more recent legends state that she turns her victims to stone with a mere glance.

The dress you’re wearing was picked by the men who had sent you down into the caves, no doubt in the hopes of enticing the saint or perhaps even the Darkling himself. Another shiver prickles over your skin.

She presses a kiss to your cheek. Her lips are plush and warm, a painful heat sears down your body, stoking the traitorous arousal between your legs.

“Don’t worry, little statue. You won’t feel the need for warmth for much longer.” She kisses the spot beneath your ear, her nose buried in your hair as she breathes in a sigh. The affection makes you tense, confusion stirring in your heart.

“I usually pick limestone or granite for the humans intruding on my husband’s kingdom. They get broken up and used for construction.” Her hands wander over your body, feeling every inch of you. She curls a hand around your throat, squeezing momentarily and laughing when she feels your pulse leap. “But you. I think my husband will like you. I think you will fit in perfectly amongst his private collection.”

Her fingers reach for the ties of your dress, tugging lightly on the knots over your shoulders. Instantly, you squirm, holding the fabric close to your chest. She grasps hold of your chin tightly and you whimper in fright. When you continue to shift nervously, she clicks her tongue sternly and you freeze in place.

“Good,” she says softly, as you lower your hands down to sit at your sides which allows her to pull the front of your dress down. “A pretty statue like you shouldn’t be covered up by clothing. I want to see every part of you.”

Her nails tear at the rest of the dress, ripping the bodice until it reaches the slit at your legs. Goosebumps spread over your skin, your nipples hardening at the sudden chill. She hums appraisingly, her fingers dancing over the waistband of your underwear, before she removes the garment with a harsh tug that makes you squeal.

“There we go. I prefer you like this.” The smile is evident in her voice. She sinks a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful to bear your throat to her and you can imagine her smile twisting into a grin. “Let’s get you into a better position.”

She urges you down onto your knees, nudging your thighs apart with her foot. There’s a knot in your stomach and a stiffness enters your body, your muscles quivering beneath your skin.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she murmurs. “It isn’t actually my eyes that turn people into stone. That’s a silly myth. It’s my touch. Can you feel it happening yet?”

Panic spears at your heart and you realise how deep the ache inside you actually is. A weak moan vibrates in your chest as the weight of your bones becomes noticeable, heavier than usual as they press into the softness of your body.

A pained whimper catches in the back of your throat and she hushes you soothingly. Her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. Her touch burns like a gust of winter wind. A tear spills from your eye, cool against the painful heat of your cheeks.

“There, there. It’s alright,” she soothes. “It will happen slowly, at first, as your bones and muscles change, but when it spreads to your organs I’ll make it quick for you.” She brushes your hair backwards, working it into a more presentable style. “Can I see your pretty eyes before the end?”

With trembling hands, you pull off the blindfold which you had thought would protect you from this fate. The light in the cave is low, but it’s a startling change from the darkness behind your blindfold. Blinking away the blurriness, your eyes immediately lock onto the figure in front of you.

She’s beautiful. Impossibly dark eyes with a frightful amount of perception lurking in their depths. Bright white hair that casts an angelic glow over her features and you can’t tear your eyes away from her. She’s wearing a kefta, a garment you’ve never seen before aside from the illustrations in picture books. The silk is black, embroidered with golden threads.

She smiles widely, her expression softening as if she’s watching an adorable baby animal.

“Such a sweet little thing. He’s going to love you.”

She settles her knee between your thighs and you gasp at the sudden contact. Her smile widens into a grin as she cradles your face between her hands, forcing your back to arch slightly. Anxiety thrums beneath your skin as your body stiffens further. Panic begins to wind its way around your insides when you realise you can no longer move any of your limbs.

The sensation is cold and painful, each part of your body aching fiercely as it changes from warm flesh into hard stone. Each breath you take is frantic, despite her soothing words. She steps back to admire you as the pain spreads over your face, your features hardening into stone.

Sound is muffled, your ears filled with a soft roar like the distant waves of the sea. Her voice echoes through your consciousness, though you struggle to catch one singular word. Then she touches you.

She runs her hands over your breasts, admiring every dip and curve made into smooth marble by her. Her touch is methodical, checking over every inch of you for any imperfections in the stone. Her fingers stroke between your legs searchingly and the urge to squirm coils violently inside you. But you can’t move.

Her soft laughter echoes as she steps away from you.

Seconds, minutes, hours go by. With your senses narrowed, sound is indistinct and your sight is nonexistent. All you can feel is an incessant throbbing between your legs. The world fades in and out of focus as you drift thoughtlessly, tethered only by your unending arousal. Then someone approaches you.

“Oh Alina,” he remarks in an appraising sigh. “She’s beautiful.”

A deft finger traces along the underside of your jaw and a shiver fights beneath your skin at the feeling of two sets of eyes on you.

“She still experiences sensation,” she explains, a glimmer of pride in her voice. “Has full consciousness, though that won’t be too capable given her current state of constant arousal.”

He places his hand on your stomach to steady himself as he leans down to take a better look between your legs and the heat and pressure of his palm makes a silent moan writhe in your throat. There’s a molten sensation in your core. If he pressed his fingers against the seam of your cunt, you wouldn’t be surprised if he found it soft like wet clay.

“I know you wanted a piece for our bedroom.”

“You’ve outdone yourself.”

There’s a hint of shyness to her voice as she says,

“You like her?”

“Alya, she’s perfect.”

“I don’t know much about her temperament, but she made the sweetest little whimpers when I changed her.”

His hand strokes your cheek, fingers dropping down to trail between your breasts.

“I don’t mind if she needs some housetraining, and the girls will help her with the rules.”

She hums quietly in agreement, reaching over to cup one of your breasts, pinching the nipple. There’s no pain, but the pressure of her fingers makes your stomach flip somehow.

“I think, with a little breaking in, she’s going to be such a good girl for us.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Bright moonlight wakes you. There’s a stiffness in your limbs; you had been sleeping in an awkward position with your legs folded beneath your body. Blinking your dry eyes, you lift your head to survey your surroundings.

An unfamiliar bedroom, decorated in black silk and shimmering gold accents. The covers shielding your body are thick and cosy despite the gloss of nervous sweat gathering over your skin. The events of the last day are hazy in your mind, vague words and strange sensations blurring together, indecipherable from your dreams or nightmares.

There’s a knock at the door and you freeze in place, your heart hammering with fright. Drawing the covers up to cover your naked body, you stand on shaky legs and approach the door cautiously.

The moment you open the door, someone says,

“Oh, you are pretty, aren’t you?”

Her hair is the colour of autumn leaves, pinned delicately at the sides to frame her beautiful face. Smooth cheeks, flushed prettily with a rosy hue and wide eyes the colour of the summer sky. The rest of her hair spills down her back in gentle waves. She’s wearing a robe, made from a rich emerald green fabric that flares at her waist, where the belt has been tied neatly. The garment halts at her knees and her feet are bare, toenails painted a pearly pink.

The girl beside her is equally gorgeous.

Her eyes are as dark as midnight, singular stars shimmering in each of them as she looks at you. Full lips curl into a smile full of mischief. Dark hair cascades over her shoulders, creeping down to frame her breasts. The deep blue robe she’s wearing clings to her figure, showing off an ample amount of cleavage and her bare legs - the hem is much shorter than the red haired girl’s robe.

They are both wearing necklaces, identical to the one you now notice is hanging from your own neck.

Everything about them both is polished and pampered, yet their beauty seems effortless and innate. You have the distinct feeling that if you stripped them of their fine clothing and pretty jewellery they would be even more stunning.

The compliment offered so casually makes you draw back on yourself, tightening your grip on the covers shielding your body.

“Thank you?” you say shyly.

The dark haired girl smirks and your stomach flips. The other girl’s smile is friendly as she gestures to herself and then her companion.

“I’m Genya. This is Zoya.”

The door handle remains grasped tightly in your other hand, your body half hidden by the door. Genya seems to notice your apprehension.

“It’s okay, we’re like you.”

“Like me?”

“We’re part of Aleksander’s private collection.”

Her words stir at your thoughts, jostling the back of your mind. Then you remember. I think my husband will like you. I think you will fit in perfectly amongst his private collection. It wasn’t a dream. It was all real.

“Aleksander?”

“Alina’s husband.” Zoya’s eyes narrow fractionally, her gaze assessing you. “The king.”

Sankta Alina’s husband. The Darkling.

“You remember Alina, don’t you?” Genya asks gently.

Swallowing hard, you nod. You certainly remember her. The phantom sensation of stone spreads over your skin, drawing goosebumps to the surface. Entranced at the sight, you stare down at your arms, turning one of your hands over so that you can study the lifelong grooves and marks on your skin that now seem foreign.

“How- how am I back as me?” you ask quietly, continuing to stare at your hand.

“Not a statue, you mean?”

Gaze flicking upwards to meet Genya’s eyes, you nod.

“Alina’s magic only holds during the daytime. The night is when Aleksander’s magic comes to life.”

“So what happens to us during the day?”

“We turn back into statues.”

Instantly, your stomach drops. Glancing towards the window further down the corridor, you see a glimpse of the night sky. Anxiety gathers in your chest at the thought of turning into stone again once the sun rises. Zoya tilts her head at you with something like suspicion in her eyes.

“Alina doesn’t usually like to keep trespassers intact once she’s transformed them.”

Reading between the lines of her statement, you frown at them both.

“You came here willingly?” They nod. “Why?”

“Aleksander and Alina keep us safe.”

“By being their statues,” you state incredulously.

Zoya shrugs.

“Partially.”

Before you can ask her what she means, Genya interrupts your line of thought with a question.

“Did Alina tell you what material she made you into? I’m alabaster.”

“She said she wanted me to be marble.”

“Marble?” Genya muses quietly with a thoughtful looking smile. She appears to be suppressing a smirk, pressing her lips together as she turns her head to the side, away from Zoya. The dark haired girl in question draws her brows together, scrunching their perfect shape as she frowns.

“What kind are you?” you ask, before you can lose your nerve.

Zoya lifts her chin, a prideful glimmer in her eyes as she says,

“Bronze. I’m the centrepiece in the grand hallway.”

Despite your confusion, you nod slowly, feigning comprehension. Zoya seems to be expecting some sort of reaction from you, which makes you fidget anxiously. Genya’s smile softens kindly before she explains,

“We all have our own personal place in the house when we change into our statue form.”

“Oh,” you say, as understanding dawns on you. “I heard her - Alina - say she wanted a piece for their bedroom.”

Zoya scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Most of us started off in their bedroom. Don’t be insulted when they move you elsewhere.”

Something twists in your chest. Disappointment? Annoyance flares beneath your skin as you bristle at your own emotions. Why are you disappointed at the thought of not being wanted by them? They’ve abducted you. Genya places her hand on your forearm and you flinch at the sudden contact. She drops her hand instantly, smiling in reassurance.

“Alina and Aleksander usually like to keep an eye on a new edition to their collection. Once you’re more settled, and they’ve gotten to know you, they will find the perfect spot for you.”

She glances down at the bedcovers wrapped around your body.

“Alina has asked us to help prepare you for breakfast.”

You blink at her.

“Breakfast?”

Zoya smirks.

“Just because we’re statues during the day doesn’t mean we don’t eat.” Her comment makes your cheeks flush warm with embarrassment over your ignorance.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Genya prompts you gently. The prospect of food makes you realise how empty your stomach is. You nod hesitantly and she smiles. “Can we come in?”

You nod again.

Zoya strides in confidently, moving directly towards the bathroom to begin drawing a bath. Water tumbles from the faucet, spilling into the bathtub with an echoing rush. Soon, the room is filled with steam and the sweet scent of soap. Genya extends her hand towards you, which you take tentatively. She entwines her fingers with yours, giving them an assuring squeeze before she tugs you gently towards the bathroom.

Zoya has untied the belt of her robe, loosening the front of the garment so that it hangs casually over each of her shoulders. She’s wearing nothing beneath her robe. Unable to pull your eyes away, you stare at her body with heated cheeks. She smirks, crossing her legs elegantly as she sits down in the chair next to the bath.

“You’ll get used to it,” she remarks teasingly. “The rest of us statues rarely wear real clothes in the house.” She grins. “It makes for easy access.” Her fingers dance along her thighs, slipping momentarily beneath her robe and your stomach flips at her insinuation. You can’t ever imagine feeling so comfortable being naked.

Genya tugs lightly on the bedcovers wrapped around you. Instantly, you turn your face to look at her, your eyes widened.

“Do you mind?” she asks softly.

Swallowing hard, you steel yourself and nod with as much bravery you can muster. Loosening your grip, you allow Genya to drop the bedcover to the floor. A tension enters your body, every muscle stiffening as you stare directly ahead, to avoid both their gazes and the chance of seeing your own body.

Zoya turns her body, muscles stretching languidly as she reaches for a bottle of bath oil from a nearby shelf. Out of the corner of your vision, you think you see her eyes roll.

Genya offers a hand to help you climb in which you take shyly as you clamber unsteadily. Once you’re settled in the warm soapy water, she traces her fingers delicately through the bubbles.

“You really are pretty,” she says softly. “I can see why Alina liked you enough to keep you.”

Her words prickle over your skin, embarrassment and disbelief and painful hope coiling around one another as they rush through your veins. This time, you can’t even muster a word of gratitude. Genya doesn’t seem too bothered though. She begins to scoop a handful of water, pouring it gently over your back.

Throughout your bath time, Zoya remains an observer, while Genya takes it upon herself to bathe you. Her nails scrape delightfully over your scalp, drawing soft moans from your lips quite involuntarily - much to your embarrassment. With each sound you make, they share glances and stolen smirks that make your cheeks warm.

Zoya retrieves a thick towel, patting your body down herself when you step out from the water. The instinct to cover your body prickles over your skin, but there are too many parts of yourself to hide so you settle on rubbing your arms nervously, feigning a shiver. Genya takes your hand again, leading you back into the bedroom.

She sits you down in front of the vanity table by the window, while Zoya opens the wardrobe and begins to search through the cacophony of clothing nestled inside the cabinetry.

Genya smoothes creams and ointments over your face, using a soft brush to sweep powder and swipe shimmer across your eyes and cheeks. She collects a dewy gloss on her fingertips, dabbing the substance onto your parted lips. She styles your hair effortlessly, in a manner that has you staring in awe.

“Why do they keep us?” you ask her. She frowns slightly, brows drawing together as she hums quietly in confusion, her gaze remaining focused on your hair. “What do they get out of it?”

She hesitates.

“We all offer them something different. I think both Aleksander and Alina would consider me as a companion.”

“You’re friends?”

She nods. Looking away from the reflection of her in the mirror, you glance at Zoya as she spreads a garment out across the bed. She lifts her eyes, meeting yours from across the room as she smirks.

“I guess you could say I’m their concubine,” she says with a pleased smirk, pride woven between her words.

Her admission makes your stomach flip, your eyes lowering to your knees self consciously.

“What will they want from me?”

Genya places a hand on your shoulder, which draws your gaze back to hers.

“Whatever you’re willing to give them.”

Her words are reassuring but before you can ask for clarification, Zoya is moving towards you with a dress in her arms.

“How about this?”

A soft blue dress. The fabric is practically sheer and the hemline is indecently short, but with your current nakedness you would be willing to wear anything. Slowly, you trace your fingers over the fabric, admiring the gentle shimmer of silver throughout.

“It’s beautiful,” you admit.

The two of them help to tie the strings at the back of the dress, fixing it into place on your body. Nerves begin to gather in your chest and you fidget with the hem, rubbing the material between the pads of your fingers.

After a few final adjustments from Genya, she takes you by the hand once again and begins to lead you out of the bedroom.

The nerves thrumming through your body prevent you from admiring the house as you follow Genya and Zoya towards the dining hall. As you approach the doorway, you can feel them both looking at you.

Genya says your name quietly and you turn to face her. Before she can say whatever is weighing on her mind, Zoya turns and stops directly in front of you, blocking your way. She and Genya share a look that you struggle to decipher. Then, Zoya seems to win whatever silent argument has ensued.

Genya squeezes your hand in reassurance, before she walks into the hall. Once she’s out of sight, Zoya turns back to you.

“Listen. If Alina has decided to keep you, she must care about you already - for some reason.” Her tone is incredulous, as if she hasn’t figured out why Alina has decided to keep you. “A word of warning, they both have a sadistic streak. Aleksander just hides it better. They will want to humiliate you and push you to your limits. If that’s what you’re into, you’re a perfect fit for them. If it isn’t, tell them, and they will find some other use for you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m not getting replaced by someone who didn’t even have to ask to be here. You’re not getting everything I’ve been working for.”

Unable to stop yourself, you argue,

“And what if I’m a perfect fit for them?”

She wrinkles her nose slightly, her mouth quirking with a barely suppressed laugh.

“You’re not. You’re too soft, I can tell. You won’t enjoy half the things they want to do with you.”

Her accusations make you bristle. She doesn’t even know you. The thought of being around Alina again, and meeting her husband, does make you nervous. In all honesty, you might be too soft for them. But there’s a curiosity deep inside you that longs to discover that for yourself - without any help from Zoya.

“Thanks for the advice,” you say stiffly.

The smirk remains on her lips as the two of you walk into the hall, her hand pressed to your lower back.

There’s intricate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting an iridescent glow over the polished marble floor. The surface is cold against your bare feet and you shiver at the sensation and the reminder of how your flesh had changed to hard stone.

Along each side of the dining hall, there’s a row of marble statues, one in front of each window. The expression etched onto most of their faces is terror, their bodies bent into odd angles with a strange elegance as they all seem to have been captured in the midst of fleeing. Each one of them are morbidly beautiful, smooth features twisted by fear in a manner that makes your stomach turn.

By the time the two of you reach the dining table at the end of the hall, you’re shaking in anticipation. Zoya moves away from you, sitting herself down in the seat next to Genya. There’s a number of other people already seated and you can feel their eyes on you. The only familiar face is the one who keeps your attention - Alina.

She lowers her glass with a smile that widens as you draw closer, beckoning to you when you realise there’s no chair available for you.

“Come here, little statue.”

The nickname feels silly, given that the majority of the people at this table are probably also statues. Does Alina call them by the same term of endearment?

She pushes her chair back slightly, providing some space for you in her lap. Swallowing down your nerves, you take a deep breath and sit in her lap. She curls her hands underneath the crook of your knees, dragging you closer, and heat rushes through your body. Her smile twists with amusement.

“I see you’ve met Zoya.”

At the mention of the girl sitting across from Alina, you nod rigidly and Alina laughs. She strokes your cheek fondly, her eyes roaming over your figure.

“Before you eat, we need to check you’re fully human again. Make sure there’s no stone left in your body.” She hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head backwards so that she can peer up your nostrils. “Nose seems clear.” Holding onto your chin, she turns your head from side to side. “Ears as well.”

Embarrassment burns over your cheeks and you can feel your pulse beating its way along your throat at the thought of everyone’s eyes on you. She presses her thumb against your lips.

“Open your mouth.” When you obey, she slides her thumb into your mouth. “Good girl.” Instinct has you closing your lips around her digit and she shakes her head with a stern expression. “Ah ah. Keep it open for me.” She presses the pad of her thumb down on your tongue and your stomach flips. She smiles. “There we go.”

Drool spills from your mouth as your tongue goes heavy, and panic grips at you when you remember how her touch had turned you into solid marble.

“Relax, little statue,” she teases. “My magic doesn’t hold during the night.”

“Mine will hold,” Aleksander counters with a small smirk, twirling his fork between his fingers. Then his gaze locks onto yours and he grins. “Though I have much more restraint than my wife, and I quite like the idea of you with a beating heart and warm body.”

Even with her thumb in the way, you manage to whimper and they both laugh. He beckons to you, fingers gesturing between you and himself as he says,

“Come now, Alya. Let me see my gift.”

She removes her thumb from your mouth, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek as she murmurs a warning.

“Be good.”

Even though Alina is the one who turned you into a statue, she’s familiar. Her husband, Aleksander, is a complete stranger. The pressure of impressing him weighs on your mind as you look over at him shyly. Unable to stop yourself, you glance across the table at Zoya. She presses her lips together, suppressing a smug smirk and frustration prickles over your skin.

Straightening your shoulders, you scrape together enough courage to move towards Aleksander. He uncrosses his legs, leaning back in his chair. His eyes move between you and Zoya, observing the brief interaction. Amusement glimmers in his dark eyes as he tilts his head, appraising you as you approach his chair.

His hands roam over your body, gripping at your hips to guide you into his lap. He smoothes his palms over your thighs, slipping beneath the soft skirt of your dress to grasp at your bare body. He traces his way over your hips and waist, curving upwards to admire the rest of you.

“What’s your name, little gem?”

Suddenly shy, you murmur your name to him. He smiles and repeats it in a low voice that makes heat spread over your face and neck. He circles his thumb over your cheek, stoking the fire burning beneath your skin.

“There are a few more areas we need to check,” he informs you. A frown creases at your brows as you think over the areas Alina had checked, and consider what spots she might have missed. There’s a smirk in her tone as she says,

“I thought I would save them for you, Sasha.”

He settles his hands back on your hips, dipping to trace the crease at the top of your thighs, while his thumb strokes your mound.

“May I?”

Realising where he intends on touching you, the breath catches in your throat. Turning to look at Alina, you find her expression fond as she regards her husband. Dumbly, you turn your head back and forth to stare at them both, unable to answer properly.

“I-”

“I’ll be gentle.”

You blink at him, confused. Zoya had said they would both enjoy humiliating you. Why is he asking for permission? Why isn’t he forcing you? He could spread you over the table in front of everyone to examine your remaining holes. Why does the thought of that excite you?

His hand presses against your stomach in an assessing manner, his head tilted as he seems to be searching externally for any stone left inside you. The expression on his face is serious and you realise Alina was telling the truth. Hesitantly, you nod in consent.

He nods with a soft smile.

“Just keep your eyes on mine.”

His fingers trace over the seam of your cunt and your eyes flicker between each of his, fighting to do as you’re told. His smile widens as the pads of his fingers sweep through the mess of arousal gathered there.

“Good girl,” he murmurs appraisingly. “That’s it.”

He sinks a finger into you slowly. A low moan catches in the back of your throat and his smile widens slowly. His finger curls searchingly, tilting to explore every inch of you, and your back arches with a small gasp at the sensation.

The skin of your thighs tingles with pleasure, your thoughts hazing over as he thrusts his finger teasingly inside you. Suddenly, you remember where you are. The sensation of so many eyes on you makes you bite on your lower lip, cunt tightening involuntarily around his finger. Sensing your dual embarrassment and arousal, he slips another finger inside, stretching you out delightfully.

The slight twinge of pain makes you whimper and he hushes you soothingly. The sounds escaping you seem to encourage him. He kisses along your neck hungrily, his lips moving eagerly over your pulse point. He increases the pace of his fingers, your toes curling with pleasure.

“There we go. Such a good girl for me.”

His teeth nip lightly at the sensitive spot beneath your ear and you inhale sharply. He smiles against your skin, his nose grazing the hollow of your throat as he murmurs more praises. The pleasure runs up your spine and you moan softly.

When he presses the pad of his thumb against the puckered hole between your buttocks you grow tense. Weakly, you shake your head and he hushes whatever protest you might have voiced.

“Easy now. Just relax.” He cups your face with his hand, keeping your eyes fixed on his as he eases his thumb into you slowly. “Deep breath.”

It’s intrusive and humiliating, yet he seems genuine in his care. Each breath you take comes out in stilted little gasps until he removes his thumb from you. He kisses your cheek, as a reward, before he murmurs,

“All done.”

Aleksander assembles a plate of food for you to share with him and he feeds you by the forkful, seated in his lap. Occasionally, Alina will lean forward to touch you - a soft squeeze to your breasts or thighs.

After breakfast, Genya shows you around the house, explaining a little more about the new life you’ve found yourself in and you follow her on shaky legs.

“Alina made the majority of the statues in the house,” Genya tells you. “She takes great pride in their maintenance.”

“Maintenance?”

Genya smiles, her cheeks flushing.

“During the day, when we’re in our statue forms, she likes to clean and polish us.”

“Oh.”

The image makes your blood rush hot beneath your skin - Alina with a cloth, polishing your marble body which has been frozen in place by her magic. Flustered by the idea of being so totally at her mercy, you glance towards the open window. A cool breeze strokes your cheeks and you take a moment to admire the sight of the grounds outside.

“Are we allowed out into the gardens?” you ask.

Genya regards the outside warily.

“Sometimes.” She reaches for the window frame, pulling it shut carefully. “If either of them are displeased with you, you might find yourself decorating the fountain on the front lawn.”

Being turned into stone is bad enough, you can’t imagine being left outside in the elements, where anyone could see you. The concern must be visible on your face, because Genya settles her hand on your arm.

“But you’re marble, I doubt they would risk damaging you like that.”

Lost in thought about what you’ve discovered, you hum quietly with a small nod.

The library is by far your favourite room. Once Genya realises you’re content to stay amongst the books whilst she seeks out her partner, David, you’re left on your own for the first time since you awoke.

It doesn’t take you long to find the books on magic. Absorbed by the words in front of you, the world around you fades as you read everything you can. Magic users in Ravka have always been called Grisha. General knowledge regarding their abilities has changed over the years. Originally, their power was divided into specific orders, but over the hundreds of years since the myths of Sankta Alina and the Darkling first began, their magic has developed.

One particular spell attracts your attention. The ability to turn someone into stone - and how to reverse the effects. An arm curls around your waist, pulling you back against a firm chest. Aleksander’s voice is low as he muses against your neck.

“That is a particularly complex spell.”

Heart pounding, you turn your head to face him, your grip on the book tightening.

“I wasn’t- Well I’m not Grisha, so it wouldn’t work.”

He tilts his head at you.

“Yes, you are.”

Perplexed, you begin to shake your head minutely in disagreement.

“I’m not.”

He nods his head, a condescending edge to the motion. He reaches over the book, flicking back several pages before he stops to trace his fingertips across a specific passage of text. It’s hard to forget that his fingers have been inside you and the memory has you growing warm.

“Read it aloud,” he instructs you.

“Should the object of this spell be Grisha, the effects will not be permanent. During the spellcasters height of power, the object will remain in their new form, shifting into their original form during a lapse in power.” The frown on your face deepens with each word you read and once you’re finished you look up at Aleksander. “What does that mean?”

“At sunrise, you will turn back into marble.” You nod. Genya had explained that to you earlier. “If you were an ordinary human, you would be a statue forever.”

“But I’m Grisha,” you state, unconvinced. He nods. His eyes slide slowly over your body, studying every inch of your expression and you struggle to meet his gaze due to its intensity.

“Do you want to free yourself?” he asks.

“I don’t think I want to be a statue for half of my life.”

“You don’t sound certain.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, fuelled by his statement. No one in their right mind would choose to be a statue - would they? And yet, you think of what Genya and Zoya had said. Aleksander and Alina offer them protection. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly as he watches you, shrugging as he decides to save you from your thoughts.

“Alina’s magic surpasses whatever latent power you possess,” he states. “It would take several hundreds of years for you to master such a spell.”

“Would you teach me?”

“No.”

“The stories say you taught Alina everything she knows.”

“You dare compare yourself to my wife?”

His words are sharp, yet there is a teasing smile dancing over his face and his eyes sparkle with a dangerous humour. Instantly, you shake your head, your stomach twisting itself into knots as you step backwards. Panic closes your throat as your spine presses against the bookshelf.

“N-no. I wouldn’t-” You stammer, before adding, rather self deprecatingly, “I couldn’t-”

Aleksander steps forwards, closing in on you. He laughs softly, hooking a finger under your chin. His smile fades as he looks into your eyes, his expression growing serious as he whispers against your lips,

“Don’t doubt yourself.”

He leaves the barest hint of a kiss there before he steps back, striding out of the library without another word to you.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

As the night draws to a close, your muscles begin to ache, anticipating the change your body is about to undergo. Genya walks you to the northern wing, stopping in front of the door that leads to Aleksander and Alina’s bedroom. She gives you a hug, wrapping her arms around your body for a brief squeeze of reassurance.

“They like you. I can tell,” she whispers.

“Thank you for today, Genya.”

She draws back, sweeping a stray strand of hair away from your face. Her thumb strokes your jawline briefly before she withdraws with a smile.

“See you tomorrow night.”

You nod shyly.

Then you’re alone.

For a moment, you consider fleeing down the corridor to find somewhere to hide. Then you hear movement from inside the room and the low sound of Alina’s voice, talking to her husband. Inhaling deeply, you curl your fingers around the handle and open the door.

Alina turns at the sound of you entering, a smile spreading over her features as her eyes lock on yours. She’s dressed in a soft bath robe, her damp hair bundled at the top of her head. Aleksander is sitting at the foot of their bed, his legs crossed casually.

There’s a fuzzy pain filling your head and you blink back tears as Alina extends a hand towards you which you accept.

“Where does it hurt?” she asks, rubbing your hand soothingly. Emotion catches in your throat, a hot tear spilling down your cheek.

“I- Everywhere.”

Her expression softens.

“Come here.” She draws you into her arms and you press your face against her chest, squeezing your eyes shut. She pets the crown of your head gently. “Come sit with me.”

She guides you over to a low daybed, settling your head in her lap as she sits. The velvet is plush against your skin, moulding into the shape of your body as you lie down beside her. She slips the shoulders of your dress down, pushing the fabric to your hips.

Heat prickles over your cheeks as you tug at the dress, ignoring your embarrassment as you pull it down your legs to pool onto the floor. The thought of being naked is still daunting, but Alina’s words ring in the back of your mind. A pretty statue like you shouldn’t be covered up by clothing. I want to see every part of you.

She smiles at the sight of you baring yourself to them both. Aleksander sits down beside you, stroking his hand along the bare curve of your waist.

“If you’re relaxed when you change, you will stay in that state in your statue form.”

You blink hopefully at him.

“I will?”

Alina hums softly in affirmation, cradling your face between her hands. Her thumbs stroke delicately over your cheeks as your muscles stiffen involuntarily. Aleksander’s hands wander over your body, providing soothing and affectionate touches as you try to fight the instinct to panic.

“Deep breaths,” he instructs you gently.

Trying to be brave, you nod. Despite your best efforts, a tear slides down your temple into your hairline. Aleksander wipes it away carefully as your body freezes in place, rigid as you begin to change into solid stone. They both murmur reassurances that become less comprehensible with each passing moment.

The world fades into darkness.

Alina continues to stroke your hair and face carefully. Her fingers trace over your features, wandering over your lips, up to your nose, before she smoothes her way across your brows. Aleksander was right, you do feel relaxed, especially with Alina touching you with such reverence.

She slips out from beneath you and the sensation of your head remaining suspended in the air without support makes you momentarily unsteady. The fear of tipping over clutches at your silent heart. Her hand curls under your head, keeping you in place as she replaces her lap with a velvet cushion.

The action has emotion welling in your chest, feeling cared for even in this moment - even when you aren’t human. Aleksander stands and his footsteps move over towards the centre of the room. The sound of bedcovers creasing with his presence have you assuming he is sitting on their bed - watching you and Alina.

When her touch disappears, you imagine her turning to look at Aleksander. The feeling of her weight leaving the daybed makes you want to reach for her.

She laughs, giddy with joy. Her feet pad hurriedly over the floor as she moves towards her husband. His hands rub over her skin and you can imagine her bounding into his arms.

“I really like her, Sasha,” she whispers.

The sound of them kissing makes your stomach flip.

“I do too, milaya.”

Her voice is quiet and with your mindset growing hazier by the second her words are barely intelligible.

“You don’t think I’m being silly, getting my hopes up so soon?”

He sighs.

“If it was anyone else, I would tell you to be cautious with your heart. You love so deeply, milaya, I don’t want to see you hurt again. But I have a good feeling about this one.”

They kiss again and your thoughts melt into nothingness as the sun filters in through the curtains.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @acehyacinth

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla @the-desilittle-bird

#darklina x reader #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #darklina au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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marvelmusing · 2 months

Text

Conflict of Interest

Part of the Our Souls AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: The second Prince of Ravka shows an interest in you, which causes division between you and your dæmon. Aleksander offers you some comfort and advice.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

There’s a touch of worry in your stomach, as your eyes wander through the crowd of people surrounding you. Fabian is out of sight - an uncomfortable and unfamiliar experience for you. There isn’t any pain, so he isn’t currently in danger or under any threat, but you don’t like not being able to see him.

Then, there’s the somewhat familiar sensation of Fabian being touched by another dæmon. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. He must have spotted Aleksander and wandered off to greet Andromeda while you were talking to some of the older scholars.

But when you manage to find your dæmon, he isn’t coiled around the familiar form of Andromeda. Instead you find another fox dæmon, larger than Fabian, rubbing against him. Embarrassed by the behaviour of your soul, you hurry over and scold him in a low tone.

“Fabian, come here.”

A man places his hand on your forearm placatingly.

“No, leave him be. I don’t mind.”

Turning to look at the man, your eyes widen and your body burns in mortification.

“Moi tsarevich.”

He makes a dismissive gesture.

“Please, call me Nikolai.” His mouth quirks into a charming smile before you can offer any sort of protest. “I insist.”

The second son of the king, Prince Nikolai, is a known patron of education and knowledge, as well as travel and exploration. He has returned from his recent visit to Novyi Zem with golden hair and sun-kissed cheeks.

After giving him a small curtsey, you tell him your name and he inclines his head in a formal greeting before he looks down at your dæmon, still pinned between the paws of his own.

“Fabian. A handsome name for a handsome dæmon. Did your parents name him?”

Hoping he can’t see the heat spreading painfully over your face and down your neck, you shake your head.

“My father’s dæmon named him.”

“How lovely.”

Curiosity has your gaze flickering down to the prince’s dæmon. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the smirk that spreads over Nikolai’s features which makes you far too bashful to grasp the courage to ask for his dæmon’s name. He leans closer, dipping his head down to inform you.

“His name is Reynard.” When you turn and frown at him, he adds, “My dæmon.”

“Oh,” you stammer, flustered by his sudden proximity. At this distance, your eyes are level with his lips. “It’s a very nice name.”

His smile softens, as if your fumbling response is akin to an eloquent compliment.

“Thank you.”

Reynard’s fur is longer than Fabian’s, glossy and sleek as he spins dizzyingly around your dæmon before he pounces on him. They both roll around, tussling, and embarrassment prickles over your skin.

Nikolai asks you about your work and you stumble over your words as you attempt to hold a conversation with him. It’s hard to focus on anything when his dæmon is paying such attention to your Fabian. It makes you squirm, heat burning painfully through your body and you begin to fear that he can see how your heart is pounding.

Suddenly, the haze clouding your mind dissipates, replaced by an anxiety that weighs on your lungs. Fabian scampers away from Reynard, though he doesn’t retreat between your legs like he usually would. Instead, he seeks the safety of someone else.

“Lord Morozova,” Nikolai says with a dashing smile. The sight of Aleksander feels like being doused in cold water. He gives the prince a curt nod in response, his eyes moving slowly between the two of you.

“Your highness.”

The tension between them is palpable and you struggle to breathe clearly, hindered by your sudden anxiety caused by Fabian’s uncharacteristic rejection. Staring at your dæmon’s amber eyes, you feel a stab of hurt as he remains hidden behind Aleksander’s legs, finding refuge with him and Andromeda.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I need some air.”

Aleksander murmurs your name softly, his voice filled with concern as he reaches for you, but you wave away his hand distractedly. There’s a tug on your heart, a sickening lurch in your stomach, as you walk away from your dæmon and when the distance becomes painful Fabian is forced to follow you out of the ballroom.

The two of you retreat into an empty room, away from the sounds of the party.

“What were you thinking - messing around with his dæmon like that in front of everyone?” you hiss in frustration as you close the door behind you.

“In front of Aleksander you mean,” he remarks bitterly, not even looking at you as he stalks further into the room. He turns back, directing his next words accusingly. “Did you even notice how Reynard was holding onto me?”

In all honesty, you hadn’t been able to focus on anything except holding onto Nikolai’s attention, even if it made you sick with nerves.

“You play like that with Andromeda,” you reason.

“I know Andromeda. I don’t know him.”

“I thought you had gone to him.”

“He grabbed me.”

That makes you pause, guilt settling in your stomach.

“I didn’t realise.”

“Because you like Nikolai,” he accuses.

“No I don’t,” you snap defensively.

The silence rings between you both. Fabian knows you’re lying, but you don’t want to admit it out loud. Nikolai is charming and you had been too distracted by his attention to notice your poor dæmon’s distress.

Sighing, you slump back against the wall, sliding down slowly to settle on the floor. It takes some nudging, but you finally manage to encourage your stubborn dæmon into sitting in your lap. He doesn’t look at you, even when you drape your arms around him.

“I’m sorry, Faby.” He huffs, turning his head further away from you. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“And?”

“And for lying to you.”

He turns to face you.

“I don’t like him.”

“The prince?”

He nods.

“Then I won’t leave you alone with them again.”

There’s a knock at the door and Aleksander’s voice is low as he murmurs your name questioningly. For a moment, you stay quiet, but the sound of Andromeda scratching against the door has you reaching for the handle.

As you open the door, Aleksander steps forwards, his eyes flickering over your features as he examines your expression.

“Are you alright?”

He looks down at Fabian, who moves quickly towards Andromeda. She nuzzles her nose against his carefully, to ensure she doesn’t overwhelm the two of you.

“We’re going home,” Fabian says, which makes you look down at him sharply. It might not have crossed your mind to leave the party, but deep down you long for your bed. He turns his head, looking up at you pointedly and you nod in agreement.

“We’re going home.”

“Can I walk with you?” Aleksander asks.

“Aren’t you staying at the party?” He shakes his head and you frown in concern. “The Little Palace is on the opposite side of the city to the university.”

“I know.”

“Aleksander-”

“I want to see you home safely.” He glances down at Fabian again, before he adds, “Both of you.”

Fabian lifts his head up, licking at Aleksander’s fingers affectionately. He turns his hand slightly, allowing his fingers to smooth over the top of Fabian’s head before he responds with a fond scratch between his ears.

Warmth fills your chest, easing into your body at the sight of Aleksander with your dæmon. It’s a stark contrast to the anxiety you felt around Nikolai.

“Shall we?”

You nod.

The moment the door is opened, the sounds from the ballroom return to you and the world comes crashing down on you again.

Aleksander keeps his hand on the small of your back, his palm warm even through your clothing as he guides you towards the door. The night air is cool against your skin and a shudder rolls through your body. Subconsciously, you find yourself being drawn closer towards Aleksander, seeking his warmth.

The two of you stay in silence as you walk through the streets, but you can see him glancing at you occasionally, his lips parted as if he is about to speak. He doesn’t, and the lingering nerves from the party continue to run beneath your skin as the silence goes on. Until you can’t stand it any longer.

“What is it?” you ask him.

He regards you for a moment, as he seems to contemplate something.

“I want you to be careful around Prince Nikolai.”

“Why?”

“Have you heard of Braiker’s theory of dæmon manipulation?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, as it always does when you’re reminded of Aleksander’s genuine interest in your chosen field of study. Then you give his question some thought. Braiker’s theory suggests that a person could purposefully used their dæmon to influence someone else’s perception of them - that contact between dæmons can even cause an attachment between the humans.

“Yes, of course,” you say, looking at him with a small frown. Aleksander raises a brow pointedly at you, with brings your thoughts to a halt. “I- He wasn’t. Was he?”

“There’s no way of knowing for certain. But I would keep an eye on his dæmon if I were you.”

Immediately, you glance at Fabian with worry as he weaves his way along the pavement beside Andromeda. Guilt has you gnawing at your lower lip, you had abandoned him in that ballroom. Aleksander draws his arm around you, tucking you into his side. The momentum causes your temple to bounce against his chest and you leave it there, soaking in his comfort.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Aleksander assures you.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Sensing your distress, Fabian turns his head back to look at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says.

Fabian’s love for you is unconditional. But there are moments when you fear that your own soul might one day grow to hate you.

He turns back, weaving his way between your legs, coiling himself around you. Instantly, you bend down and take him into your arms. He nuzzles into your chest, nosing his way up your neck before licking affectionately at your cheek and you bury your face into his fur.

Aleksander rubs your back comfortingly and he seems to be itching to touch Fabian. But he doesn’t. Despite the darkened streets, you’re still in public after all.

When you reach the university, Aleksander remains by your side, even as you walk through the quiet corridors and up to your rooms. He only hesitates when you enter, turning back to look at him. Self-conscious, you lower your gaze and struggle to find the right words to coax him inside. Andromeda sits on the threshold, looking up at her human counterpart.

With Fabian still in your arms, you fidget with his ear, smoothing the fur between your thumb and forefinger in a self soothing motion. Swallowing hard, you draw up enough courage to ask,

“Would you like to come in?”

Aleksander nods, stepping forwards into your quarters. They aren’t as grand as his. The first room is a small study which you have filled to the brim with books. Through the next door is your bedroom, which has a tiny bathroom adjoined. Despite its size, it is the only home you’ve ever had for yourself and you take pride in it.

As you make your preparations for bed, Aleksander lights the fire, stoking the flames to warm the room for you. Once he’s done, he sits down on the armchair in the corner of your room and Fabian makes himself comfortable in Aleksander’s lap. Meanwhile, Andromeda stretches herself out on your bed.

Every time you walk by Andromeda, you offer her some sort of comforting touch - a scratch behind her ears or a pat to the head. Aleksander strokes his palm down the length of Fabian’s body and soon your dæmon is rolling over, offering his soft underbelly for affection.

When you settle at the head of your bed, Andromeda sits beside you, nuzzling affectionately at your face which makes you laugh softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you press your face further into her fur. Aleksander smiles softly as he stands, scooping Fabian up into his arms. He lowers your dæmon into your lap, placing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Good night,” he murmurs.

“Will you stay?” you ask in a whisper. He hesitates visibly and you can already hear his response. If he stays the night, someone will see him leave in the morning, and the rumours about you will never cease. “Just until I fall asleep.”

Aleksander stares at you for a long moment, his gaze flickering between your eyes before he nods. He sits down at the end of your bed, shuffling closer when you move towards the headboard. When you begin to wriggle under the covers, he holds your quilt for you, before tucking you in himself.

Fabian buries himself against your chest and you subconsciously begin to thread your fingers through his fur. Andromeda settles down by your side as your dæmon closes his eyes.

“Tell us something,” you murmur quietly. She tilts her head at you.

“About?”

A shy smile tugs at your lips and your eyes flutter sleepily as you murmur,

“Aleksander.”

She gives you a fond look, crossing her paws in front of herself as she settles comfortably to consider your request.

“What do you know about his grandfather?”

“Not much.”

“His dæmon was a stag. When he settled, they had to alter all the doorways in the manor because his antlers meant he was too wide to move from room to room.”

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought of a stag wandering through a lavish mansion, butting his antlers into every doorway.

“What form did his grandmother’s dæmon take?”

“A hare.”

“A very woodland themed family.”

She hums in agreement.

“Aleksander loved his grandparents dearly. They were better parents to him than his mother ever was.”

“His mother’s still alive,” you state cautiously. Aleksander doesn’t talk about his family very often, but you know his relationship with his mother is difficult. Andromeda nods slowly.

“She is.”

“What’s her dæmon like?”

“He’s a vulture.”

“Oh,” you say softly. Vultures are scavengers, they sit solitary at the edge of society and feed on whatever scraps they can wrangle for themselves. Someone with a vulture dæmon is typically self serving and preys on weakness. A stark contrast to Aleksander’s soft spoken yet fiercely loyal dæmon. “Does he speak?”

“Not to humans. If he talks to a dæmon it’s usually only to share a cutting remark or an insult, in my experience. I don’t even know his name.”

“Cassian,” Aleksander says quietly. Both you and Andromeda turn to look at him. “Baghra’s dæmon,” he clarifies at the sight of your confusion. “His name is Cassian.”

“He sounds horrible,” you remark.

Aleksander’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as he stares into the space between you. He rubs at the back of his hand in a repetitive manner, his thumb circling over a particular patch of skin.

“After Andromeda settled, Baghra increased her efforts to drive us apart. Whenever I reached out to touch her, Cassian would bite my hand.”

“I don’t remember that,” Andromeda says in a low tone. He strokes her head firmly, a sombre expression on his face.

“It was either me or you. I couldn’t let her hurt you.”

She turns her head, licking his fingers in a rare show of outright emotion towards her human. Aleksander continues to stroke his hand down her body, his eyes fixed on the way her fur moves. Firelight flickers over them both and your eyes grow heavier with each passing moment.

Aleksander turns his head, his gaze falling onto you and he smiles softly at the sight of you fighting sleep.

“After my grandparents died, I inherited the manor.” He leans forwards, reaching for Fabian. He strokes your dæmon slowly. “We could go there together, away from prying eyes. It’s at its most beautiful in the springtime.”

His hand traces over Fabian’s spine, his fingertips dipping into every notch of bone. It fills your body with pleasurable tingles that makes your thighs shake and a haze creeps over your thoughts.

“I’d like that.”

Aleksander smiles indulgently, his voice lowering to a low whisper.

“You would?”

You hum in affirmation. Then a frown creases at your brows.

“S’not fair.”

His smile widens as he tilts his head at you.

“What’s that, darling?”

“You can’t stroke Fabian like that and expect me to stay awake.”

He chuckles fondly, his other hand brushing delicately over your cheek.

“My soft, sleepy girl. You need your rest.”

Defeated, you bury your face into your pillow with a pout puckering at your lips in protest. Fabian’s breathing is already becoming even as he begins to fall asleep and soon you will too. Aleksander brushes his hand over your hair gently, while his other hand strokes between Fabian’s ears. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Sweet dreams. Both of you.”

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @acehyacinth

OS Tag List: @the-sweet-psycho @aoi-targaryen

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla @the-desilittle-bird

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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marvelmusing · 2 months

Note

Hi!

Just wanted to tell how wonderful your writing is, as it is always a beautiful experience to read it. Lately I have been loving your His dark materials Darkling AU and I can’t wait to discover what more you have to share with it. Thank you so much for such lovely stories about our dear Aleksander, it is always a pleasure ❤️ have a good day and take care

Hi!! Aww thank you so much, that means so much to me and I’m so glad you like my writing. There’s a little bit more from that AU coming soon (since I love it too) 🥰

#answered asks #thanks for the ask!#lovely lovely people

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marvelmusing · 2 months

Note

Ummmm… hello???? I am very very here for this

I have such a crazy storyline for devil wears prada au! Aleksander 😱🤯 I swear, with all the twists and turns it's becoming more of a spy story than a whatever it started out as 🙈

#my mutuals (affectionate)#I’m already in love with this whole concept

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marvelmusing · 2 months

Text

His Attention

Part of the Our Souls AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: An interaction between you and Aleksander at the university doesn’t go unnoticed, and you decide to take a subtle stand against the rumours surrounding you.

Warnings: suggestion of sexual content

My Masterlist

“Aleksander?”

He turns his head, lips spreading into a smile once his eyes lock onto yours. Andromeda dips her head forwards to greet Fabian, as your dæmon bounds up to her immediately.

It always makes you flustered, seeing your dæmon’s coiling around one another in public with no care for who sees them. Especially here, as you had been exiting one of the lecture halls at the University of Ravka with a bundle of books in your arms.

Aleksander inclines his head towards the open doorway, where the rest of the scholars and students in attendance continue making their way out into the corridor.

“How was it? I’ve heard Professor Kostyk is rather talented, though his style isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

“We were debating whether a persons childhood alters what form their dæmon will settle as.”

“What do you think?”

As you explain all the different factors you believe can influence a dæmons settled form - their parents dæmons, the environment they grow up in, their place in society, and their ambitions for the future - you realise you’re rambling and grow self conscious. Aleksander’s expression is unreadable and heat burns over your cheeks as you stop talking. He smiles, and your stomach flips at the sight.

“Saints, I want to kiss you.”

While it’s flattering that he thinks of you in that way, you’re a little embarrassed that he might have been ignoring your words.

“Were you listening to me?”

“Of course. Dæmon ancestry, and nature versus nurture, and childhood experiences.” He seems to see the mixture of surprise and relief on your face, as his smile softens. “I was listening. It doesn’t make me want to kiss you any less.” A slow smirk spreads over his features as he tilts his head aside, eyes wandering down over your body. “In fact, I want you to tell me all about your theories, in bed, while I kiss every inch of you.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

“Aleksander.”

He chuckles.

The crowd bustling around you makes you take a step towards Aleksander, subconsciously seeking his safety despite how flustered he’s making you.

“Some of the students sitting behind me were gossiping about you,” you say quietly. Aleksander’s gaze remains focused on your face, lowering to your lips as he smiles coyly.

“Really?”

“They said that you’ll be in attendance at dinner in the Great Hall this evening.”

“Will you be there?”

You blink at him.

“Yes.”

Most evenings, you dine in the Great Hall with the other scholars here at the university. It’s common knowledge that Aleksander usually spends his evenings at the Little Palace on the other side of Os Alta.

He nods slowly.

“Then I will be there.”

“I suppose,” you say shyly, looking down at your books with a smile you struggle to suppress. “I will see you at dinner, then.”

Aleksander smiles widely and your heart skips a beat.

“You will.”

There’s a giddy smile on your face as you walk through the corridor and out through the foyer towards the courtyard at the front of the university. Sunlight warms your features as you step outside, golden rays shimmering down over Fabian’s coat.

At the sound of your name being called, you turn and see Lord Sokolov leaning against the building, a cigarette in hand.

“How do you know Lord Morozova?” he asks.

Self conscious, you curl your arms tighter around the books you’re carrying, holding them close to your chest, while you fidget with one of the spines.

“We’ve met at a few galas - that’s all.”

He stubs his cigarette against the wall before tossing it into the bushes. His dæmon, a small brown falcon called Rosa, skitters towards Fabian who retreats backwards.

“You ought to have a little more control over him.”

A frown creases at your brows and you breathe out a soft laugh as you remark,

“Who? Morozova?”

He doesn’t laugh, shaking his head at you instead. He gestures towards Fabian, who is now cowering between your legs, seeking safety from the inquisitive eyes of the falcon dæmon as she cocks her head at him.

“Your dæmon.” There’s a stab of hurt in your chest, which worsens when you see his features twist into a disgusted sneer. “Rubbing against his like that. It’s vulgar.”

“Vulgar?” you repeat.

He lifts his chin.

“Might I remind you, he is a lord.” His sneer smoothens out into a smirk as he feigns sympathy. “I’d hate for you to embarrass yourself, trying to be something you’re not.”

“Well, thank you for your concern, my lord,” you force yourself to say, though you fear he can hear the hurt in your voice.

Before he can respond, you’re turning away, Fabian scampering at your heels as the two of you flee the prying eyes of the nobleman and his dæmon.

»»---------------------►

The moment you get back to your quarters, you remove the simple dress hanging over the door of your wardrobe, slotting it back into place beside your other items of clothing before you retrieve a different dress. It is one of your favourites, but you have never been able to find the courage to wear it anywhere besides the safety of your bedroom.

Fuelled by Sokolov’s remarks, you draw your curtains closed and tug off your clothes before slipping the dress on for you to admire yourself in front of your mirror. With a determined nod, you start to get ready for the evening.

By the time dinner has begun, Fabian’s fur is brushed to glossy perfection and you have done everything you can to ensure your appearance is something you are proud of.

There are three tables in the Great Hall. One on each side of the hall, for the students, while professors, scholars, and guests sit at the table at the far end. This means you must walk the entire length of the hall, attracting the attention of many as your dress flows smoothly around your ankles, heels clicking smoothly over polished marble.

The majority of the table has been filled by the time you arrive, but luckily you spy a seat open directly in front of Aleksander. He sees you long before you reach the table, and his eyes remain fixed on your figure as you walk. He is the first to stand, and the rest of the table soon follows suit.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” you say quietly, ducking your head as you pull your chair back. The amount of attention you’ve gained is unexpected and your eyes flicker nervously towards Aleksander. As his gaze locks onto yours, you incline your head in a polite greeting. “Lord Morozova.”

He says your name smoothly.

As you sit down, you lift the tablecloth slightly so that Fabian can slip under the table. The familiar feeling of Andromeda nuzzling against Fabian soothes your nerves and the tension in your shoulders loosens slightly as you settle in your chair. Aleksander’s eyes hold an intensity that makes a warm flush run under your skin.

As dinner is served, Aleksander engages in small talk with the lords surrounding you. It’s strange, being in his company around other people. Though with the way Aleksander’s eyes continuously drift back to you, it’s almost as if you are the only person in the room.

Every time your eyes meet his, you take a sip of your drink for the sake of having something to do while his eyes are on you.

A few of the other diners excuse themselves after the main course, and now that dessert is drawing to a close less than half of the seats are still filled.

Emboldened by the wine, and the food, and the way Aleksander keeps looking at you, you slip your foot out of your heel and slowly trace your way up his calf. He stiffens slightly, eyes darkening as he holds your gaze.

Aleksander leans back casually in his chair, holding his glass of wine in one hand as he takes a leisurely sip. The corner of his mouth quirks as he swallows, amusement dancing in his eyes. He seems to be enjoying your attention, spreading his legs wide in his seat to give you free rein in your exploration. It makes you flustered, his subtle offering of himself to you.

Fabian and Andromeda continue petting one another underneath the table. They had spent most of dinner curled up beside one another, talking quietly amongst themselves. Now, the sensation of his soul playing with yours makes you squirm in your seat.

There will be other dæmons under the table, who will be witness to the interaction. They might not outright tell their human counterparts now, here at the dinner table, but watching the two of them licking and nipping playfully at each other, rolling over one another, will undoubtably mean the men around you will suspect what their dæmons can plainly see.

Aleksander finishes his wine, tipping the glass back to swallow down the last drop. He places it back onto the table, straightening himself as he does so. He looks at you, giving you a subtle nod before he addresses the remainder of the dinner guests, excusing himself for the evening.

“Might I walk you to your quarters?” he asks you, his hand on the back of your chair.

His question draws the attention back to you, heads turning and eyes flickering over your form. Smiling bashfully up at him, you nod. He smiles, sliding your chair back and offering you his arm.

The two of you leave the Great Hall, arms linked as you nestle yourself into Aleksander’s side to protect your body from the chill of the evening.

When you reach a darkened corridor not far from your room, you spin in his arms, slipping your arms around his neck before you lean up to kiss him. Aleksander smiles, cupping your face with one hand as he traces the other down your side.

He presses your body against the cool stone wall and a shudder rolls down your spine at the sensation. Both of his hands settle on your sides, fingers spread wide to feel as much of you as possible.

“What was tonight about?” he asks in a murmur, his body moulding against yours.

Before you can answer, his lips are meeting yours and by the time he pulls away from the kiss you’re breathless and can barely remember his question.

“What do you mean?”

“You wanted their eyes on you.”

Lowering your gaze, you stare down at the space between you both.

“Lord Sokolov saw us together, earlier today. He wanted to remind me that I’m beneath you and the other lords at that table.” Aleksander’s expression grows serious, a dark intensity in his eyes as he seems to consider your words. Straightening your chin, you look him in the eyes as you say, “I wanted to show them that I deserve your attention.”

He smiles softly, breathing out a quiet sigh when you try to kiss him again.

“You deserve my attention,” he affirms in a low tone. His hands remain splayed over your sides, thumbs stroking over the fabric of your dress as he holds you in place, his touch tantalisingly close to your breasts. “But what will they all say about you when they find out we’ve spent the night together?”

That makes you pause. There will already be plenty of your fellow scholars who think you’re trying to gain Aleksander’s favour by sleeping with him.

“I didn’t even think about that,” you admit.

He nods slowly.

“I would hate for anyone to question your success because of me.”

“I wouldn’t say there’s an awful lot of success for them to question,” you remark with a self depreciating laugh. He shakes his head.

“There will be.”

His words are quiet, but confident, which makes you smile. A warmth enters his expression and he crooks a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up to receive a tender kiss that makes you believe him. One day, you will be a success.

»»---------------------►

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @acehyacinth

OS Tag List: @the-sweet-psycho @aoi-targaryen

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla @the-desilittle-bird

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone au

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marvelmusing · 2 months

Text

Handle With Care

From the Our Souls AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

(His Dark Materials inspired AU)

Summary: Aleksander finds you in a vulnerable state and takes care of you and your dæmon after an altercation.

Warnings: mentions of violence and injury, hurt/comfort.

My Masterlist

Aleksander is drawn out of his study at the University of Ravka, by the sounds of a commotion further down the hallway. He steps outside, closing the door smoothly behind himself once Andromeda has followed him. It appears he isn’t the only one curious about the altercation. A few other people have gathered to watch the Master scold two people.

The sound of someone choking down a sob makes Aleksander’s stomach twist, because that someone sounds frighteningly like you. He increases the pace of his gait, striding down the corridor. His heart beats wildly in his chest when he sees your tearstained cheeks, clutching fiercely onto Fabian as you hold your dæmon close to your chest.

He barely hears what the Master says as he approaches. In the corner of his vision, he sees Zoya with a bruise forming on her cheek and there’s a twinge of pride in his chest at the thought of you defending yourself. He has no intention of listening to Nazyalensky’s side of the story.

“Come with me,” he murmurs softly against your ear.

Settling a gentle hand on your waist, he guides you towards his private quarters upstairs. He’s careful not to touch Fabian and keeps a close eye on you both. His heart aches as you continue crying quietly, your face almost hidden by Fabian’s fur.

Aleksander sets you down on his bed, and you curl in on yourself, keeping your dæmon tucked protectively against your chest. He retrieves a few medical supplies, bandages and ointments, from his bathroom in preparation. Then he sits down beside you. He strokes his hand down your side, attempting to soothe you before he speaks.

“Darling, I need to check Fabian over.”

A whimper catches in your throat, and he sees you shake your head weakly, burying your face into the red fur of your dæmon. Aleksander manages to get his hand underneath Fabian’s body, encouraging the two of you to let go of one another.

“Come here, sweet boy.”

A painful cry escapes you and Aleksander watches you press your arms tightly against your chest in an attempt at filling the space previously occupied by your soul.

“Faby,” you whine, distress choking you.

Aleksander hears your breathing shift into panicked gasps, seconds away from spiralling into another bout of uncontrollable emotion. He places his hand over your ribs, feeling the frantic rise and fall of your chest as your anxiety increases.

“I know, darling. I know it hurts, but he’s right here. Can you hold onto Andromeda for me?”

He feels you grasping at his dæmon, as she licks gently over your forehead, encouraging you to breathe in a soft voice. He hears her murmuring reassurances to you while you cry.

“Andromeda,” you whimper. She hushes you softly.

“It’s alright, dear girl. Aleksander will look after him.”

There are a few patches of fur missing from Fabian’s coat, clumps torn out during the fight, and a bite mark on his left shoulder. There isn’t too much damage, but the wound needs to be cleaned. The dæmon trembles in Aleksander’s lap as he dips a cloth into a dish of water, wringing out the excess.

Andromeda turns to look at him, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“This is going to hurt them both,” he states.

She nods.

“Can you give him something for the pain?”

“I don’t know if he trusts me enough to drink it.”

“He will.”

Aleksander holds his dæmon’s gaze for a long moment. Then he nods. He pours a tonic into a small dish, placing in front of Fabian’s mouth.

“Drink as much as you can, Fabian.” When your dæmon begins to lick at the liquid, pink tongue darting out tentatively, Aleksander breathes out a sigh of relief. “There we go. Good boy.”

He strokes the back of Fabian’s head gently, encouraging to continue drinking. Once the dish has been licked clean, he turns his attention to the bite mark.

“Now let’s clean this up for you.”

Fabian only flinches slightly as the cloth meets his broken skin and a distant whimper catches in your throat and Aleksander hears you whisper his name weakly.

Whenever dæmon’s consume something, it affects their human counterpart tenfold. He suspects the tonic has made you disorientated, on the cusp of passing out. Aleksander’s dæmon continues talking to you, keeping you conscious and grounded as your fingers play absently with her fur.

Once Fabian’s wound has been cleaned, Aleksander carries him back over to you, placing him down on the bed. Instantly, your dæmon buries himself into your chest and you grasp hold of him tightly.

Andromeda licks your forehead affectionately, lying down beside Fabian. Aleksander drapes the covers over your body.

“The drink I gave him will make you both feel sleepy. Get some rest, darling.” As your mind seems to begin drifting off, your body tenses and Aleksander adds, “The door is locked. We are the only ones here, and I won’t touch Fabian again unless you ask me to.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, your breathing evens out.

»»---------------------►

“Aleksander?”

He turns quickly, neck twinging at the sudden movement. He must have fallen asleep in his armchair by the fireplace. His eyes scour over you, the exhaustion settled over your features, the way you keep your arms crossed protectively over yourself. Breathing out your name, he shuffles to the edge of his seat.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, your eyes lowered to the rug beneath your feet as you tuck his robe tighter around your body.

He frowns.

“Whatever for?”

“Last night. I- I acted like a child.”

His gaze flickers down to your hands as they fidget, wringing them briefly before you begin to scratch your thumbnail against your palm. Emotion fills your features, your throat bobbing as you appear to be holding back tears.

“Someone had hurt your soul,” he argues. “I think how you acted was justified.”

There’s a pause as you seems to consider something.

“Don’t you think I should be more mature - less reliant on him?”

Fabian looks half-asleep, still curled up against Andromeda on Aleksander’s bed. He lifts his head at the sound of your distress, though Aleksander can see his eyes are unfocused and he soon slumps back down into Andromeda’s side.

“Not at all. Come here.”

You shake your head.

“You can’t want me,” you insist, tears dripping down your face. “I still need to hold my dæmon to fall asleep at night.”

“Is that what Zoya said to you?”

There’s a moment of hesitation where you don’t meet his eyes. Then you nod. He beckons to you again, and this time you walk closer and allow him to pull you into his lap.

“The bond you share with Fabian is a gift. It is beautiful. Anyone who doesn’t see that is a fool.”

More tears trace down your cheeks, droplets falling onto Aleksander’s shirt as you lean your temple against his shoulder.

“When I was younger,” you begin quietly, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. “I used to play with the rest of the children who stayed at the Little Palace over the summer. We used to explore together. There wasn’t anywhere we didn’t go.”

He didn’t know you stayed at the Little Palace. He had always assumed you had a family, and a home, to go back to over the summer.

“Not long after Fabian settled, they started treating us differently. One day, they locked him in a pantry.”

Aleksander tilts his head at your admission, his eyes locked on your face as the memories turn your tears into soft sobs that have you trembling in his arms. He tightens his hold on you, as you grip onto his shirt.

“I couldn’t get him out. If it had happened a few months earlier, he could have changed into a moth or a beetle and crawled out through the crack under the door. But because he had settled, because he was a fox, he couldn’t get out.”

“What happened?”

“A kitchen servant found us. She took one look at him, saw a fox dæmon, and thought we were stealing food. She told the master, and I was punished for it. I was too distraught to tell them the truth.”

He rests his chin on the crown of your head and you bury your face into his chest. Anger burns in his chest, and Andromeda’s eyes lock onto his from across the room. They will never let anyone hurt you like that again.

“Darling, I’m so sorry.” He presses the hint of a kiss to your hair and the two of you are quiet for a moment. Then he says, “That’s why you went into dæmonlogy, isn’t it?”

You nod.

“Just because my dæmon is a fox, does not mean I’m untrustworthy.”

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “Fabian is one of the most goodnatured dæmons I’ve ever known and you have a kind heart. Neither of you deserve such suspicion.”

“Thank you.”

He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He gives your body a gentle squeeze, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. His chin grazes your forehead as his hands rub over your shoulders, up and down your arm. “Stay with us for the day.”

That makes you lift your head up, to look at him. He watches you blink in confusion at his offer.

“What?”

“Fabian won’t be feeling himself until around noon. I don’t like the thought of you being alone while he’s out of sorts.”

“Oh.”

“And, perhaps…” He smiles at you, tracing his fingertips over your cheek, along your jawline. “I want to spend time with you.” That draws a bashful smile to your lips, spreading over your features. He tilts his head at you, admiring you with a soft expression. “Shall I ring for some breakfast?”

You nod.

“Please.”

»»---------------------►

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla

#my reaction to your reaction #😆☺️🥰🥺#my mutuals (affectionate)#i love how much you love this au 🥺#my writing

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marvelmusing · 2 months

Text

Our Souls

A ‘His Dark Materials’ Inspired AU

Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

☽ Our Souls

As a well-known scholar, you’re invited to a gala at Lord Morozova’s estate. What you don’t expect is for the man himself to show a particular interest in you and your dæmon.

☽ Mirror Image

Aleksander finds you at another gala, and the two of you learn you have more in common than you realised.

☽ Handle With Care

Aleksander finds you in a vulnerable state and takes care of you and your dæmon after an altercation.

☽ His Attention

An interaction between you and Aleksander at the university doesn’t go unnoticed, and you decide to take a subtle stand against the rumours surrounding you.

☽ Conflict of Interest

The second Prince of Ravka shows an interest in you, which causes division between you and your dæmon.

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #series masterlist

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marvelmusing · 2 months

Note

Ahh I just read ‘Proposition’ and it was so good !! Do you think you’d write a part 2? I’d love to read more CEO!Aleksander xxx

I definitely want to write more, I have another part half written that turned angsty instead of smutty by accident but I plan for there to be smut at some point too

#answered asks #thanks for the ask!#my writing

4 notes · View notes

marvelmusing · 3 months

Text

Handle With Care

From the Our Souls AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

(His Dark Materials inspired AU)

Summary: Aleksander finds you in a vulnerable state and takes care of you and your dæmon after an altercation.

Warnings: mentions of violence and injury, hurt/comfort.

My Masterlist

“Come with me,” he murmurs softly against your ear.

“Darling, I need to check Fabian over.”

“Come here, sweet boy.”

A painful cry escapes you and Aleksander watches you press your arms tightly against your chest in an attempt at filling the space previously occupied by your soul.

“Faby,” you whine, distress choking you.

“I know, darling. I know it hurts, but he’s right here. Can you hold onto Andromeda for me?”

He feels you grasping at his dæmon, as she licks gently over your forehead, encouraging you to breathe in a soft voice. He hears her murmuring reassurances to you while you cry.

“Andromeda,” you whimper. She hushes you softly.

“It’s alright, dear girl. Aleksander will look after him.”

Andromeda turns to look at him, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“This is going to hurt them both,” he states.

She nods.

“Can you give him something for the pain?”

“I don’t know if he trusts me enough to drink it.”

“He will.”

Aleksander holds his dæmon’s gaze for a long moment. Then he nods. He pours a tonic into a small dish, placing in front of Fabian’s mouth.

“Drink as much as you can, Fabian.” When your dæmon begins to lick at the liquid, pink tongue darting out tentatively, Aleksander breathes out a sigh of relief. “There we go. Good boy.”

He strokes the back of Fabian’s head gently, encouraging to continue drinking. Once the dish has been licked clean, he turns his attention to the bite mark.

“Now let’s clean this up for you.”

Fabian only flinches slightly as the cloth meets his broken skin and a distant whimper catches in your throat and Aleksander hears you whisper his name weakly.

Once Fabian’s wound has been cleaned, Aleksander carries him back over to you, placing him down on the bed. Instantly, your dæmon buries himself into your chest and you grasp hold of him tightly.

Andromeda licks your forehead affectionately, lying down beside Fabian. Aleksander drapes the covers over your body.

As soon as he finishes speaking, your breathing evens out.

»»---------------------►

“Aleksander?”

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, your eyes lowered to the rug beneath your feet as you tuck his robe tighter around your body.

He frowns.

“Whatever for?”

“Last night. I- I acted like a child.”

“Someone had hurt your soul,” he argues. “I think how you acted was justified.”

There’s a pause as you seems to consider something.

“Don’t you think I should be more mature - less reliant on him?”

“Not at all. Come here.”

You shake your head.

“You can’t want me,” you insist, tears dripping down your face. “I still need to hold my dæmon to fall asleep at night.”

“Is that what Zoya said to you?”

There’s a moment of hesitation where you don’t meet his eyes. Then you nod. He beckons to you again, and this time you walk closer and allow him to pull you into his lap.

“The bond you share with Fabian is a gift. It is beautiful. Anyone who doesn’t see that is a fool.”

More tears trace down your cheeks, droplets falling onto Aleksander’s shirt as you lean your temple against his shoulder.

He didn’t know you stayed at the Little Palace. He had always assumed you had a family, and a home, to go back to over the summer.

“Not long after Fabian settled, they started treating us differently. One day, they locked him in a pantry.”

“What happened?”

“Darling, I’m so sorry.” He presses the hint of a kiss to your hair and the two of you are quiet for a moment. Then he says, “That’s why you went into dæmonlogy, isn’t it?”

You nod.

“Just because my dæmon is a fox, does not mean I’m untrustworthy.”

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “Fabian is one of the most goodnatured dæmons I’ve ever known and you have a kind heart. Neither of you deserve such suspicion.”

“Thank you.”

He shakes his head.

That makes you lift your head up, to look at him. He watches you blink in confusion at his offer.

“What?”

“Fabian won’t be feeling himself until around noon. I don’t like the thought of you being alone while he’s out of sorts.”

“Oh.”

You nod.

“Please.”

»»---------------------►

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

281 notes · View notes