#dark fall x reader

[yonaioana]

Ok so Leon(dark fall) x female reader where the reader is Leon's lover and the demons capture her when they find out about her

I don't know how good it is, i got this request some time ago, i started working on it and today i wrote like more than half of it.

Warning: implied r*pe, side character death, gore, stabbing, blood, angst to fluff

Probably Deus was the first to find out about you most likely if Leon was either sleeping or passed out and he started muttering your name with a small smile creeping on his face, of cours Deus was pissed and went straight to Mephisto who in his small monkey brain was the one who should know everything. As soon as Mephisto found out everyone knows and Beryl enters his yandere mode( I've seen it and if you're reading this you've probably seen it). Everyone wants to find this mysterious person but first they would have to wait for Leon to ask some questions.

Meanwhile..

You were siting at a table with a few friends you made on your journey of finding and getting your lover back. You found out about him being the demon king who dissapeared a few months ago so you and your team made plans to travel all the way to the castle. You started packing food, weapons, potions, healing items, armor, etc. and got going.

They were beyond pissed, Leon was not talking, even after Mephisto forced him to drink some weird potion that was suposed to make him speak the truth he was refusing to talk, biting hard at his lower lip in order to keep his mouth shut. Beryl was holding him by the shoulders shaking him from time to time in hopes he would cooperate before Deus gets impatient.

The road was getting harder and harder as you and your party aproached the castle, the monsters growing in number. When you arrived at the castle you were welcomed by muffled screaming and crying that came from deep in the castle. You got out your weapons and moved forward into the building not knowing what you will have to face.

They all became alert when the doors of the main enterance boomed through out the castle. Deus got up leaving Leon's trembling form into the makeshift bed of the cell. They all came up from the basement to confront the intruders and even though you and your team had trained a lot before coming here the fight ended relatively fast, with you and your friends getting captured and dragged down to the basement. When Leon saw you he gasped and started crawling to the steel bars which made Mephisto realize that one of the people in your party must be the one they were looking for. They started by torturing the males in your party because they assumed you were one of them. You saw a big tall man with white hair and red eyes dragging your sweet Leon aroud like a rag doll while he was crying and kicking at the man's legs and being taken into the cells as you heard the screams and cries of your teamates. In the same cell were two of your female friends, you realised that soon they will be coming for you and even though they took your armor and weapons but you still had some potion bottles in your clothes: one for strenght, two for healing and one for invisibility. You drank the invisibility potion and Beryl immediately noticed one of the girls missing. They all entered the cell to question the girls, and as soon as they opened the door you got out grabed a sword and a small knife and impaled the one that was holding Leon. They all panicked when they saw Deus speuing blood and immediately turned when they heard Mephisto scream and fall to the ground, a stab wound in his forehead. You started feeling the effects of the invisibility potion wear off so you quickly chug the strenght one, as you started to appear again you focused your attention to Beryl ripping the sword from Deus's limp dick body and slicing through his arm also managing to cut a little bit into his chest. Nergal tried to snick up on you but Leon and one of your teamates managed to hold him while you were getting ready to finish of Beryl. Nergal gave up and surendered as soon as he saw Beryl, Deus and Mephisto dead on the ground. You dropped the sword and jumped on your lover giving him a deep kiss. Nergal's face just droped when he saw Leon not only accepting the kiss but also putting his arms around your shoulders. One of your female teamates locks Nergal in the cell and quickly go to the one next door where your male teamates are. Some of them are dead but some are still breathing, you give the healing potions to the ones injured the most. You take one on your back and so do your teamates. You leave the castle with Leon holding onto your sleeve and most of your friends alive.

Once you reached the base you gave your dead friends a proper burial. Now you were lying on your back with Leon wraped around you. He was sleeping soundly yet still holding onto you for dear life, like you were going to just vanish. So you turned to face him wraping your arms around him and burying his face in your chest, placing your chin on his head, you start feeling his grip loosen as you started peppering his head with kisses. You've gotten him back.

#dark fall #leon x reader #dark fall x reader

[nanamiwifeyy]

Dark fall

Non gender Reader

Leon’s POV

I sighed as I drew the star of the Cestinia.

‘You are coming right?Right love?

I sighed as I rested my head on my arms. I miss the Sun.I never thought I would miss the daily greetings of facility and knights. When they would kiss my right hand before they move to their post.

I miss their (h/c), tied in a ponytail as they wear their white armor, the star painted on their chest and the sword and shield strapped against them.

‘Y/n…’I said.

‘What are you doing?’ A deep voice asked, I sighed as I recognized the voice of Deus- pulling me out my daydream.

‘Nothing ‘I said, denying his question.

Unknow to Leon, Deus’s mind was still on the moment before him and went straight to Mephisto. He torn the star from the page and showed it to Mephisto who recognized it.

‘Do not dwell on it, I will tell it to Nergal’

‘!!!What was that?!!!’Leon asked, as he got up from the ground.

‘You’re so strong Y/n’Prince Leon said,pushing a string of hair behin my ear. His other hand roamed my chest.

‘You are just light’ I said.

He laughed softly as I cupped his cheek.His blush made his eyes brighter purple than they already are.

‘My prince,so beautiful’I said as our foreheads touched.He leaned in to kiss me. He gripped my shoulders as I pressed him deep to me.

I sighed as I sharped the knife.

‘Hang in there Leon’ I thought. Taking the cork from the bottle.

‘Y/n, the portal is ready’’

I straightened my back and strapped the knife in it’s scabboard.

‘Let’s go, let’s save our crown prince’ I said.

‘Ready?’I asked.

‘Yes cap’

Our magician opened the portal and we rushed in the blue-white mass.

We fell into open sky and crash landed on the ground-breaking the fall with our shields.

‘Hoods up-in stealth position.He is in there’I said, looking at the castle in the distance. I pushed my hood up with the rest following.The clothes making us invisible.

I whistled long, a sign that we were moving up. I hid behind a rock and took the hood off.The rest of my squad behind me and some behind another rock. I checked the place. I looked at the other behind the other rock. I swinged my arm, signalling to throw the bombs. Our best bowmen threw the bombs at the giant doors.The bombs shook the ground.

‘Forward!’I screamed, running through the smoke.

‘Mephisto, to the west!Beryl South wing! Deus, to Leon!’Nergal said, pacing through the halls. The doors where truly busted.

‘Where are they….’Nergal thought as he looked around.

‘No presence….tsk’ He said and move away from the door.

If only Nergal looked up and waited.There, was Y/n’s royal guard squad. Y/n pointed two fingers up to the side as they moved.

The moved through the giant halls. Y/n quickly stepped aside as a giant demon with white hair rushed to a halls and slammed the doors open.

‘What was that?!’

Y/n’s eyes widen as he recognized the voice. He rushed to the door and saw him, on the ground with the demon on top of him.

‘Let me go!’ He screamed but the demon never let go.

Then the demon suddenly got a kick to his face-his body flung against the wall. He spit some blood out and scanned the room.

‘What did you do?!’

‘Kicking an bastard with zero manner-uuhh….let…..go…..o….’

‘D-Deus?’Leon said as he saw the demon struggling to breath. Deus was able to hold something…in the air. But he wa snever able to see his killer. Leon shiverd as he wasn’t able to see the thing that killed Deus-until a warm cloath was wrapped around him. Leon looked at the golden trims and recognized the hands.

He stared at them,the love of his life…his guardian,Y/n

He immediately hugged them as tears streamed on his face.

‘I knew it…you would save me’

‘It only took a damn long time’Y/n said as they held him.

‘I hate it when it ends all nice and well’ A voice said,They turned around and saw

‘Nergal’

‘You must captain of the royal guards, Y/n L/n’Nergal said, poison laced on every word.

Y/n was unbothered as they looked at each other.Then they charged at each other,blades clashing against each other as a high paced fight stared.

Leon was then held and in the air,he recongized the person as the palace magician.

‘Now! He screamed as the rest of the squad appeared and attack Nergal. After a long fight,Nergal died from a stab through the neck and heart.

‘All the demons have died…the place is empty’A squad member said. Y/n nodded and moved too Leon.

‘Come, time to go home…..to me’Y/n said, the last two were a whisper as they held Leon’s hand. The squad moved out the palace and looked at the place.

‘Open a portal!This dimension is breaking!’

The magician opened the portal and they ran through it

Leon could only smile and that very night a feast was held in return of the prince…and a night of passion.

#dark fall x reader #Leon x reader

[mrsoharaa]

You and Miguel trip over each others feet, drunkenly, landing on the softness of your cozy bed with your back gently bouncing amongst the thick warmth of your blanket and his towering, stocky frame looming over yours protectively...admirably.

His soft hues of hazelnut irises gaze down at you with such tender and allure. Briefly glances down to the plushness of your pretty, fully lips promptly back up to your glimmering, hazy eyes. Contemplation roaming through his foggy mind.

Your gentle and sweet giggles lure him out from his thinking, eyes focusing more intently into your gorgeous eyes. Sinking and basking in the sheer beauty that resonates from your reeling optics. A lazy, half witted smile weaving across his strong cheeks.

"¿Qué es tan gracioso, preciosa?" he chimes with the same smile, watching you softly roam your tinier hands all over his wide, firm chest. Leaving a trail of arising goosebumps beneath the thin layer of his black shirt that snugged ever so nicely around his bulked stature.

"Y-you Miggy...you're so funny" you emit a small hiccup, fingers still grazing over the soft, light fabric that atoned to his fit body ever so perfectly. Your wandering irises stilling into his directly, nipping back your bottom lip as your palms smoothly, gradually glide their way up and around the juncture of his strong jaw to the back of his neck. Easing in the closeness between the two of you.

He raise a thick brow in curiosity and interest, chuckling lightly as he hums to the light invitation your fingers were hinting at, at the back of his head. Twirling and curling ever so delicately and diligently in between the soften locks of deep mahogany.

"Am I now? do share, dulzura" he keeps his adoring, flaunting smile on his beautiful face. Watching you ever so intently and longingly with every motion you'd make, consuming the intoxicating feeling of your welcoming gentle touches.

You giggle once more, another loose hiccup reverberating through your throat. Your hands clasping more securely around his neck and pull him down to meet your warm, tender lips. Hardly ghosting over the shell of his right ear.

"I can s-see you fighting back the u-urge to kiss me Miguel..." you whisper ever so daintly, smoothly deep into the depths of his ringing ears. You feel his muscles tense under your touch, arising a more coy and playful smirk to tug amongst your heated cheeks.

His head tilts lightly, lips skimming over the flush of your flawless skin, suavely rakes both of his large hands up along the strut of your calling body.

"...Would you be against it, mi amor?" his voice tremored with such lowered bass, rasp like as he grazes your cute cheeks with a teasing touch of his warm lips. Grinning oh so cheekily against the supple flesh as he feels you writhe and squirm a bit beneath him.

Your hands weave more profusely into his curly, brunette hair. Fingers curling and combing through each soften strand, as you pull him more closer towards you.

"O-of course not dummy...that's w-what I've wanted all this time" you breathe out faintly, listening to the sudden hitch of his breath settle at the back of his throat. His dilated pupils following over to remeet your coyish, yearning gaze.

It didn't take him much convincing afterwards to have his hungry lips lap over your own with such dire need and desire. A mixture of dizzying passion and aching want, fueling his ignited action against your lips. Devouring every moan, whimper and breathy gasps that slipped off your trembling, candied lips.

Diligently, wallowing in the devoted and amorous kiss.

#idk what this is but have it <3 #was just thinking about playfully falling over the bed and just tenderly starring up into those big round beautiful brown eyes of his! #especially when it's dark! UGH #ok ok going to bed now lmao #giving you and miggy forehead kisses! #also i wrote this half asleep sooo...expect grammar errors lmfao #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv

[peachsayshi]

my favorite thing about suguru geto is that even though you fall for him first, the man falls 100 times harder. he’s so cool and effortless about everything in the beginning, but his feelings go so far deep that in the end he’s practically worshipping you at your feet.

anything you want is yours to have, your desires fulfilled, your heart kept so safe, showered with every ounce of love that his body can hold, and protected fiercely.

he loves being in love with you.

and everyone can see it - they see how he radiates with you around, how his feelings pour out of him uncontrollably because the vessel of his being can’t contain it all.

they can’t help but wonder if you know to what extent the depths of his devotion goes. can’t help but wonder if you know that you’re the beautiful, bright star that he slowly orbits.

#again: geto to me is the playboy with the commitment issues #but my god does love slap him in the face when he falls #he’ll never look back 🥺 #my dark prince 🖤 #geto x reader #geto hcs

[triasticalwarlock]

So, I'm ashamed to say I am officially having a sonic faze. I don't know how I got here. I came across a really cool piece of art of dark sonic. And there it was, that little fucking tingle, that little thing you get when ever you look at a fictional character you've liked for, well, a few years. And it comes running back, and you feel like a miserable son of a bitch... because you like THIS DUDE.

Where did I go wrong? I was perfectly fine with hazbin hotel, and the mother fucker called Adam. Also, due to this, I'm starting to realize a pattern. The characters I liked in the past: Leon from pokemon, sonic the hedgehog, bill cipher, Stanford pines, secret history tails, Adam the first man. Am I the only one seeing a pattern? I AM FOR SOME REASON ATTRACTED TO EGOTISTICAL LITTLE SHITS.

Why do I love this mobian? I honestly don't know, prideful man that is reckless and enjoys danger? Doesn't show much vurnability around people, but that one person(us)? I don't know, don't bother asking. But, it could be that it's a hero, with the ability to snap.

I'm talking about this version of the dude. I don't know why, but when ever I see this motherfucker, I feel something. It's like something is stirring my stomach, but in a good way. I don't know how to describe it, all I can say is that it makes me giddy and makes me kick my feet. It's like, cuteness aggression. And, honestly, I want him to baby me in this form. Imagine, the usual calm and looked up to hero, cupping your face and saying something in a baby tone (i think I've been reading to much Lucifer). Also, this has nothing to due with me wanting this man to ram me in. But to the people out there who still think that dark sonic would hurt his friends, get a service dog. Because you clearly blind. The reason sonic ever even turned dark mode was because his friends got hurt, what makes you think he'd intentionally harm them? I needed to say this, because the amount of art I run into that shows dark sonic about to hurt his friends, usually amy or tails, is pissing me off. Service dogs people, service dogs.

And, just a bunch of things of sonic, because I can.

Silly goose

#sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #anime sonic #sonic the hedgehog #dark sonic #dark sonic x reader #dark sonic the hedgehog #dark sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x you #bill cipher #leon #secret history tails #Adam the first man #Adam hazbin hotel #Adam #sonic X #Stanford pines #gravity falls #hazbin hotel #pokemon #pokemon leon #why #im not ok

[kasagia]

Would've, Could've, Should've...

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/Darkling x heartrender! Kaz Brekker's sister! reader Summary: Your life would have been completely different if it wasn't for Aleksander. You regret meeting him... but saints only know that he is the one who can make you feel this way... Warning(s): angst, death, blood, violence, manipulation, falling in love with the wrong person, toxic love, Aleksander is a little manipulator and the reader enters his web, the reader rebels, they love and hate each other, kind of dark! reader? Inspired by "Would've, Could've, Should've" - Taylor Swift SPECIAL FOR 10K LIKES AND 500 FOLOWERS 💙🖤 Thank you once again!! Words count: 11,6k+ Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

If you would've blinked then I would've Looked away at the first glance If you tasted poison, you could've Spit me out at the first chance

You were a thief and a paid killer. In Ketterdam you were known as the sister of Dirtyhand, Dreg's second bastard. But that was before you met him... or before you were commissioned to kill him.

You were in a bind then, a messed-up situation. Your elder brother, Jordie, died, and your younger brother, Kaz, was your dependent. You both had to work hard to earn money for food and a dry (but often cold) place to sleep.

That's why you packed up. You left your brother with the promise to return and provide him with a place to stay while you were away. You exchanged as many letters with him as you could. You learned that he was doing well in Ketterdam, slowly becoming the head of one of the most important gangs. You helped him build his "empire" as much as you could, travelling around the world and making money by killing your targets.

But everything went to hell and your life changed completely on the night of a winter fete in Ravka.

You had a very simple task.

Disguised as a servant, you were to deliver the glass with poison to the Darkling, mingle with the other servants, and leave. None of the nobles ever paid attention to the service. Especially when you cover your face with makeup, making it look so dull and ordinary that no one will remember it.

But Darkling was different... you were supposed to find out about it soon.

Everything was going well. You walked over to him and handed him a poison glass, avoiding eye contact with him. But as you walked away, glancing discreetly to see if he raised his glass to his lips, you noticed he gave you a second glance.

You shivered.

He stared at you intently without even blinking. You felt mesmerized under his gaze, like you couldn't take your eyes off him even if you tried... but you didn't even want to try to save yourself from the gaze of his dark eyes.

And just as he was about to raise the cup to his lips, a commotion ensued around you. One of the paid hitmen you worked with has been identified.

The general threw down his glass and gave chase to the hitman. You took this opportunity to run out of the ballroom unnoticed.

You were lucky the general didn't drink the poison after all. If he did, it would be harder for you to leave Ravka and go back to your brother, since you all got disclosed.

In retrospect, you'd rather he'd drank that poison... maybe he'd have gotten rid of you at that first night.

If I was some paint, did it splatter On a promising grown man? And if I was a child, did it matter If you got to wash your hands?

You ran through the corridors until you bumped into one of the people who worked with you. You were breathing heavily from running from the pursuers of the First and Second Army.

"These Grishas dogs are everywhere. They caught Kostrov. We have to get the fuck out of here before their crazy Black General catches us too."

"Kostrov is caught? Shit. He'll turn us in before we leave the walls of this damn palace." you knew very well that if that was true, it was only a matter of time before the man revealed your hiding places. You must run away from there. And as soon as possible.

The voices of the soldiers and their quick steps rumble around you.

"Please tell me you have a plan."

"I always have a plan." you answer confidently and take her by a hand. You lead her through the corridors of the Little Palace until you are outside.

You are heading towards the exit gate when Grishas suddenly appear in front of you. You both stop, looking uncertainly in their direction. Fortunately for you, your disguise makes them a little less suspicious.

"You, get back to the Grand Palace. It's not safe here, servant." they said to you. "You're coming with us." they say, taking your co-worker by the hand.

They drag her towards the Little Palace, but she doesn't give up that easily. She breaks free from their grip, hugs you from behind and puts a dagger to your throat.

"One step closer and I'll kill her." Grishas' joined hands, ready to use a small science. You feel her dagger pierce your neck gently. Blood drips onto your collarbone just like the drops of your sweat. From this position, you can practically feel both her and your heart racing.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, angry at her.

"We'll both get out of here, or no one does." she growls furiously in your ear, backing away slowly. The dagger digs deeper into your skin as she realises there may be no way out of this situation.

You let out a loud scream, and suddenly her grip on you loosens. She falls dead to the ground, and you are right next to her. You press your hand against your throat and try to stop the bleeding. Your eyes study her lifeless body intently.

There are no injuries. No blood. No wound. One of the heartrenders must have stopped her heart.

You look around at the Grishas who are now coming towards you, and in a panic, you realise that there is not a single red kefta among them...

If it wasn't one of them then...

You shake as an unlikely thought comes to your mind, and the world slowly begins to blur into blurs as you feel the blood flow more freely from your neck and seep into your clothes. The dull, thumping beats buzz in your head, making it even more difficult for you to remain conscious.

Black material flashes before your eyes. You feel someone's strong arms lift you up. And before you completely lose your consciousness, you can feel HIS heart pumping warm blood rapidly. Yours is getting slower and slower.

And you wish you had died in his arms right then, before it all started...

A few hours later, you wake up in the Little Palace infirmary. You find out that you are a heartrender, and with your scream, you knocked down not only the woman who worked with you on this assignment (luckily no one knows about your identity and what you were really doing in the palace), but also the Grishas who caught you both (for the second time, the saints took watch over you, so you only knocked them unconscious for a moment).

Ah, and the Black General brought you here himself… the day like others.

Ooh, oh All I used to do was pray Would've, could've, should've If you'd never looked my way I would've stayed On my knees

You were kneeling in the chapel. The stained-glass windows and images of saints gave you a kind of solace in a strange way.

You often prayed to the saints. Even though there weren't many believers in Ketterdam in anything but profit and money.

You believed that they were somehow listening to the prayers of the people on earth… you just didn't know why they chose to so painfully ignore the cries for help for the lifes of your family.

You clutched a letter from Kaz in your hand. The tears had long since stopped falling from your eyes and had already dried on your face. After all, how many hours could you cry while sitting on one of the pew?

You didn't want to leave him like this. He was your little brother, and you loved him more than anything. Yet he threw it in your face for choosing your own comfort over his well-being. That you wanted to join the ranks of saints, forgetting who you were and leaving behind your past.

As if staying in the Little Palace was your choice.

You were thrown into the role of Grisha. You didn't even know how to control it... yet you were able to hold back thousands of hearts without any training or learning about small science.

You were capable of much more than an ordinary heartrender. You could manipulate the blood. Move people at your will, controlling the movement of blood through their veins and into their muscles, manipulating people's bodies to your will.

And you found out all this in just a few weeks.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on your joined hands. You were tired. Tired of being forced to accept a life you never wanted. You were a thief and a paid killer. Not any Grisha.

In the distance to your right, you heard a faint heartbeat. You sighed. Another bonus of discovering your powers. The sounds of the hearts of people around you overwhelmed you to the point that you had to hide in some secluded place to get rid of the pounding in your ears.

It sucked. And the man who was responsible for your miserable situation was standing right next to you now.

"I wouldn't take you for someone who prays to saints." his whisper echoed throughout the chapel. You turned your gaze away from him. You started looking at the stained glass windows in front of you.

"Maybe I just admire art, general."

"On your knees, with your hands together?" he asks sarcastically. You ignore the intense look of his dark eyes on you. He sighs, sitting on the pew next to you. "And it is Aleksander. I've told you many times."

"Shouldn't you be planning a war or something like that?" you huff, earning a small chuckle from him at your annoyance.

At first, you were afraid of this terrible, Black General of the Second Army. Over time, however, you allowed yourself to be more impertinent towards him. (When pretending to be an obedient Grisha irritated you to no end, you got into a fight and ended up in his war room while he was scolding you. You guess that you fascinated him not only with your powers then.)

"Shouldn't you get enough sleep for training with Baghra?" you groan in despair at his words. Baghra... another reason to run away from this place as fast as you can.

You get up from your knees and sit on the pew next to him. Kaz's letter tucked safely in the sleeve of your kefta, but you wonder how long it will be before he notices the unusual stiffness in your left arm.

"I'm not going there. This woman will kill me one day and tell everyone that it was my own incompetence that did it." his soft chuckle definitely shouldn't make your heart beat faster. You were glad he didn't have powers like yours to find out about this embarrassing fact. "I'm also a little concerned about you knowing my timetable." you say, actually suspecting that the general's good intentions are based on something completely different than your well-being. You still didn't know how you sold him the story about how the orphan from Ketterdam managed to become a servant for Ravka's royal family and didn't pass a single test during her stay in the Grand Palace.

"I care about every Grishas. Some require my attention more than others." He says, shifting his gaze to the stained glass window you were staring at.

Sankta Ursula of the Waves

"You can mock all you want, but I believe in them. You have to believe in something if you want to survive in Ketterdam."

He trembles slightly. He thinks you haven't noticed, but you have. He clears his throat and looks down from the image of a Sankta to look at something else in the chapel.

"Why you pray to her?" he asks, and you, not knowing the importance of this question at the time, shrug and simply say the truth.

"My brother crossed part of the sea alone when he was only 10 years old. If not thanks to the saint's help, I don't know how he survived…" you tell him.

You don't know why, but he has such an aura around him that you just WANT to tell him everything. It was easy to trust him enough to share some of your secrets... After all, everything that's in the shadows is safely kept from the world, right?

And in those dark eyes and that mysterious, confident smirk you could get lost so damn easily…

If you knew better, you would have tried to push him away from you instead of spending nights with him in the chapel, talking about your past or when he "accidentally" joined you, or in the palace garden when he "accidentally" wanted to walk around the lake in the moonlight. You have unknowingly let him to direct you straight to his intricately woven spider web.

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen, and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven

Genya has provided you with a wonderful kefta. However, its red was different from the others, Corporalki. It was more bloody, wine-like, and so dark that one could say it was mixed with black.

Aleksander said he needed to recognise his best heartrender, and this kefta, too fanciful for your taste, was supposed to be a symbol of your importance to the Second Army. As if the ridiculous amount of black thread he had ordered to use to decorate it wasn't enough of a sign that the Black General favoured you over his other soldiers.

It was one of many celebrations in the Grand Palace. However, on this occasion, the Tsar and Tsaritsa decided to invite the Grishas as well... or rather, have them entertain a crowd of self-righteous nobility on the occasion of the anniversary of the Ravka uprising.

You weren't a Ravkan. You weren't interested in some artificial celebration, but the general almost forced you to come to this stupid holiday with others... at least you could drink wine secretly with Genya and Fedyor.

You felt the blood flowing freely through your body as you danced with some other Grishas. You laughed carelessly for the first time in a long time and let yourself spin around as the handsome blonde held you in his arms.

The others' heartbeats hummed softly in your ears as you allowed yourself to let go of control a little. The orchestra's music effectively allows you to drown out the sound your powers have picked up.

Being so distracted, you didn't even notice when Grisha leaned closer to you and started whispering something in your ear. You laughed at the ridiculousness of his flirtatious offer and were about to reject him when suddenly an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into a strong chest.

As soon as the familiar smell of burning wood and musk mixed with kvass enveloped you, you relaxed. Suddenly, the possessive, too-tight grip on your waist where his large hand was pressing against your stomach and holding his breasts too close to be appropriate didn't bother you as much.

And if, instead of inhaling his scent and perfume like some drug and getting high on it, you saw the death glare he was sending towards the guy who was only flirting with you, maybe you would understand that it was better to run away from him as far as possible instead of melting into the soft fabric of his black kefta and appreciating his muscles you felt through it.

But you couldn't think of anything else but how lucky you were that your summer keftas were so thin.

“I'm going to steal Miss Y/F(ake)/L/N for a while." he says as if he has every right to you. But you are too intoxicated (both by his close presence and the wine you drank) to notice that something is wrong.

And instead of yelling at him like you should have, showing him that you weren't a thing he could take whenever he wanted, you blushed as he turned you towards him and gave you that damned, dangerous smirk that made many Grishas women swoon.

"You looked like you needed saving." he whispers into your ear, gently touching his bearded cheek to yours.

You bit your lip, looking at him as he pulled away from you, perfectly playing the role of gentleman and your fucking knight on a black horse. Too perfect for you to notice then...

"Thank you, general, for caring so much about an ordinary heartrender like me." you tease him as he leads you in a dance.

"My best heartrender." he replies, running his hand down your back, making you shiver. He suddenly dipped you down, forcing you to lean on his hands and trust that he won't let you fall on the floor. You were so close in his arms that you felt every breath he takes matching yours.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Grishas whispering about you, but you don't care. Not while you have him with you, not while he's looking at you with such curiosity and admiration that you feel like you're the only damn person in the room. And you see his eyes linger longer on the black stitched decorations of your kefta on your waist and chest.

"Be careful, Ivan will be jealous." you tease, giving him one of your prettiest teasing smiles, and you almost hold your breath, seeing a hint of something akin to lust in his eyes, as dark as his shadows.

"He has his Fedyor." he replies, pulling you slightly closer to him, and you know he can feel your rapidly beating heart.

He was dangerous—everything you should avoid—something that young and naive girls were warned about. But you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And the fact that such a special, powerful man like him was interested in the thief and killer from Ketterdam like you made you unable to push him away.

You liked his attention. The way he touched your cheek tenderly as he brushed the hair from your face after riding with him. The way he sought your presence and the way he showed up at unexpected moments when you really needed someone. The way he gently grabbed your hand, amplifying your already formidable powers so you could practice bigger, more impressive things with him than with Baghra.

He made you felt special, chosen. And with every single second you spend with him, you wanted more from him…

He left you with the tingling feeling of his lips on your hand after thanking you for dancing. He walked away from you, giving you a second glance and a wink. And then you knew he would be your death...

And now that I'm grown I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know I wish you'd left me wondering

"I do not like winter." you say, sitting in one of his armchairs in the war room, warming your hands by the fireplace.

Baghra forced you to train outside, and the cold ingrained itself into your bones. You tried in vain to warm yourself up using your power. The old witch, seeing your incompetence, only let you go when your lips turned blue enough from the cold. And Aleksander was bustling around you now, wrapping an absurd amount of blankets around you and making tea for the two of you.

"Why is that?" he asks, placing the warm mug in your cold hands. You smile gratefully and take a sip, deciding that he did it perfectly, just as you loved it. Which, by the way, wasn't so strange, knowing how many sleepless nights you spent in that chair talking with him.

"My brothers once took me to a frozen lake to go ice skating. I fell into an ice hole, almost froze to death, and got a terrible cold. My mother said that I miraculously escaped death. My parents spent all their money on doctors and medicines for me. And as a result, my brothers and I were strictly forbidden to go out without her supervision. As you might expect, they weren't very grateful to me for this."

You see him swallow and stare into his cup in silence. You don't miss his tense shoulders and the frown on his forehead as he mentions something—something very bad, judging by the pale knuckles of his hands as they grip the cup tightly.

You slowly get up and put your mug on the table. You walk up to him and kneel in front of him. You take the cup from his hands before it breaks under his force, and you slow down his rapidly beating heart with your power to calm him down a bit.

The touch of your soft, gentle hands on his brings him back to reality. His dark eyes stare at you with great intensity, assessing and wondering something deeply as he pierces your very soul.

"I fell into the freezing lake too." he finally says, lowering his gaze to your joined hands. He plays with your fingers and draws patterns with his fingertips on your palm as he weighs his words, not looking at you, as if he might break down under your compassionate pattern. "I was 13 years old… two other children, my dearest friends, attempted to drown me in that freezing lake."

A cold chill runs through your body. You unconsciously squeeze his hands, trying to catch his gaze.

"Why?" you whisper, shakily, imagining that cruel moment.

He doesn't say anything. He lifts his head and looks at you, and he finds something in your gaze that makes him decide to stare hopingly into your eyes with his dark irises that reflect the glow of the fire in the fireplace for a while.

He sighs, closing his eyes, and suddenly you feel your hands tingle where your skin meets his. And it's not the usual feeling that washes over you every time you're in his intoxicating presence.

NO.

It was something bigger, more powerful, and much more addictive than anything, than Darkling himself was already to you.

"Use your power. Listen to the heartbeat." he whispers his command quietly, completely unlike the way he expresses his orders. And if you opened your eyes, you would see him staring at you intently, watching the reaction on your face.

And then you hear it. Thousands of heartbeats, you feel every flow of blood in the bodies of thousands of people present from the Little and Greate Palace, even throughout the whole capital.

Overwhelmed by so much power, you let go of his hands and breathe heavily, still feeling the blood rushing through your veins and that warm tingle spreading throughout you.

"What... what the hell was that?" you ask him in shock, trying to catch your breath. "How... how did you..."

"You know what an amplifier is, right?" he asks, sliding out of his chair and kneeling in front of you.

He reaches up and slowly tucks your hair behind your ear. You flinch at first at his touch, and he freezes, but you quickly nuzzle into his hand when you notice that you no longer feel as much power emanating from him to you as you did with his earlier touch.

"Yes, but..." you freeze, realising what he's implying. The impossibility of it all only stuns you for a moment. But so many impossible things have already happened in your life that, in the end, this little piece of information doesn't make that much of an impression on you. But you can't say the same about what you found out... about what he must have gone through in his childhood. They practically hunted him like those animals that enhanced Grishas' abilities. "Oh, Aleksander." you whisper and lunge at him to hug him tightly to you.

And by the short sigh he let out as he buried his face in your hair, and by the way it took him a moment to undoubtedly return your strong, tender hug, you knew that this wasn't what he expected, that this wasn't the kind of reaction he was used to seeing.

If only you knew back then that he would start using his memories more often as a weapon in the fight for your feelings, your affection, your forgiveness, and your compassion, then you would rather he left you in the dark, for him to never start sharing THE REAL parts of him with you.

If you never touched me, I would've Gone along with the righteous If I never blushed then they could've Never whispered about this And if you never saved me from boredom I could've gone on as I was

Ravka's love day celebrations are… more successful than you would like to admit.

You went to breakfast, convinced that you would spend today's day off alone, locked in your room or gossiping with Genya about anything other than the romantic, tense atmosphere in the palace.

You were wrong.

It started with you being presented with various flowers from various Grishas along the way, asking if you would spend the evening with them. And they were various proposals. Dinner, a walk in the palace gardens, a horse ride, even spending the night with them (which you found disgusting).

You entered the dining hall and sat down in your usual seat, responding to Fedyor's teasing as you placed a bouquet of all the flowers you were given on the table next to you.

"You don't want to take them from me? Ivan would be happy." you try to shush him but he just laughs more.

"Better tell me which ones are from the general." he teases you, picking up one of the flowers and hitting your shoulder with it.

You tense up and blush slightly. You make sure to mask the beating of your racing heart so that Fedyor can't use it as a clue to your true feelings for the General, which have developed over the months you've spent in the Little Palace.

"None. And it better stay that way. As if all these women didn't look at me with hatred anyway. Can you believe that for all these flowers, no one brought me my favorites? Or any sweets?" you complain jokingly, digging into your food and trying to act as if you were unimpressed by his comment.

"And what are your favorites?" he asks casually, also starting to eat his food. You answer him and then suddenly someone sits next to you. Inferni - Luke, the one you danced with at one of the events and your faithful library buddy, gives you a shy smile.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" he asks, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

You feel Fedyor's eyes on you, but you try to ignore him. The heartrender flies away, leaving the two of you alone. You don't know how to answer Luke. He was that classic nice, funny guy that any woman would kill for attention. And probably, if your life were different, you would gladly accept his invitation and reciprocate his shy flirtation.

But you can't and don't want to do it. You don't feel an ounce about Luke what you feel about a certain dark-haired man in a black kefta. And when Inferni's hand connects with yours, you mentally compare the feeling to the tingling excitement that the mere look of Aleksander's dark eyes stirs within you.

Fortunately, you're not the one who has to answer. A grunt from the two of you makes Luke let go of your hand. You both stare at your general, who stands with his hands clasped behind his back. He approaches you slowly and catches your gaze with his dark irises before looking at the Inferni sitting next to you.

"Unfortunately, Miss Y/F/N will be busy tonight." he replies, not even trying to hide from you the silent, unspoken threat he sends with his gaze towards the boy who tired to ask you out.

Luke nods and leaves with a quiet: "Yes, General."

Alexander looks at you, and for a moment, that's all you do. And if you were a little more careful, less blinded by your fascination with this dangerous man who, for some reason, puts you at the centre of his universe, you would try to get away from him as far as possible.

But you are not.

He offers you his hand, patiently waiting to see if you take it or reject it. But you both then know that you are too deeply enchanted by his intoxicating appearance, too mesmerised by the sound of his voice, and too hungry for his touch to allow yourself to lose his attention for even a moment.

So you gently placed your hand on his. He wraps it in a safe hug and helps you up. He pulls you a little closer to him so that the materials of your keftas rub against each other. And the overwhelming amount of black embroidery on it practically hides the red material underneath, matching perfectly to the general's black kefta. This obvious match only now seems trivially obvious to you.

And if the Grishas had any doubt that you belonged to the Dark General, the fact that he pulled out your favourite flowers from behind his back and handed them to you with a small, charmed smirk as you took them from him and buried your nose in the petals told them so quite clearly.

In that moment, you too realised how deeply you felt for this man.

That's why, when he leans towards you, his bearded cheek brushing yours, flushed from the overwhelming feeling that overwhelms you in his close presence, you don't object when he whispers in your ear:

“I'm about to kidnap you for tonight.”

The rational part of you screams at you that this is a bad sign, that he is saying it with too much confidence and hunger in his eyes to be considered mere flirtation and not an act of pure possession and dominance.

But you don't listen.

You don't want to listen.

You want to drown in those dark brown irises, be consumed by his darkness, if it meant that for the rest of your life he would look at you as the only person he wanted.You want to finally feel wanted. Needed. Chosen. The one and only.

And the fact that it was this most powerful Grisha who made you feel this way only fueled your desires more and blinded everything your mind was screaming to your deaf heart. A heart that was deaf to everything that wasn't HIM.

"I can't wait." you whisper back.

And you know, by the way he nods at you and walks away with his usual confidence, the twinkle of victory in his eyes, and the huge, satisfied smile when he realises you're watching him closely until he's out of your sight, that you are gone for good and there is no going back to who you were. That he has clawed his way into your soul too deeply to ever try to deny it.

But lord, you made me feel important And then you tried to erase us

This is one of the best nights of your life.

You knew this from the moment you climbed with him to the highest tower in the Little Palace, which was used to teach little Grishas astronomy lessons.

He laid down with you on the blankets and pillows he had prepared, especially for this occasion, and let you lean against his chest as you both gazed at the stars. You, safely wrapped in his arms and blankets, listened to his slightly accelerated heartbeat as if it were the sweetest music you had ever heard. And the fact that he rested his chin on top of your head, occasionally whispering something in your ear about the constellations in front of you, quickly became by far your favourite place in the world.

"For a long time I only slept under the stars. My mother and I always had to be on the run. We couldn't find a permanent place. People would try to kill the Darkling's son as soon as they found out about my existence."

You lift your joined hands and press a kiss to his as you continue to listen to him. You feel shivers run through his body. You learned, with the time you spend with him, that he was completely unaccustomed to the tender touch of another.

"They were my only solace in the darkness."

"Were you afraid of her? And your shadows?" you ask, turning in his arms to look at him properly. He shifts his gaze from the night sky above you to you and disentangles one of his hands from your grasp to caress your cheek tenderly.

"A bit. I couldn't control them then... they were... unpredictable. My mother used to mock me and say that I was no summoner if I allowed my own power to rule me."

"Aleksander." you whisper, tears in your eyes as you see the pain written all over his face. It was there every time he mentioned that cruel woman. You hold one of his hands tightly and say, with all your conviction and unwavering faith in this man, "You are the strongest person I know. You've been through so much... I'm probably not even aware of half of it yet, and yet, look where you are and what you have achieved. There has never been and never will be a better Darkling than you. You are caring and attentive; you take care of your people, and the Grishas under your rule are better than ever."

He stares at you, frowning halfway through your speech, and something like guilt shines in his eyes as tears begin to form.

You don't know it yet, then.

You don't know why he feels guilty. You don't know why he shivers as you lean into him to press your lips together in your first kiss. You don't know why his hands are shaking as he cups your cheeks. You don't know why, as you try to undo the buttons on his kefta, his hands suddenly stop yours. You don't know why he pulls away after a moment, whispering something under his breath as he practically runs away from you.

All you know for sure is his heart beating madly as he disappears from your sight and the tingling of your lips after the kiss the two of you shared a moment ago.

He hasn't come near you since that night. In fact, you feel like he's trying to avoid you at all costs. And in hindsight, you curse yourself for not taking the hint. That you didn't move away when he tried to make it easier for you.

But you were too stubborn, too longing for his presence floating around you like his shadows, to simply give up and do what's best for you. So you knock on his chambers in the middle of the night, and when he opens the door, you both know you're too far in all of this to try to ignore an attraction between you—this ache in your chest after not seeing each other for weeks.

You don't know who kisses who first. Or when he pulls you towards him and closes the door behind you to pin himself against it. You have no idea who took the other's kefta off first or when you found yourself in his bed as he tried to kiss every part of you. You know you feel safe, warm, loved, and at home. And it's a feeling you haven't felt in a very long time. And so did he. That's why you get lost in each other, completely disregarding the fact that, in the end, you would probably both tear each other's hearts out.

Oh, you're a crisis of my faith Would've, could've, should've If I'd only played it safe

He finds you kneeling by his fireplace as you slowly burn letter after letter you wrote to Kaz that he sent back to you. The bastard didn't even open it.

It's been a long time since you kneeled before anything other than him. Your faith in the saints was crumbling with each passing month in the ranks of the Second Army. If the saints were so powerful, why did they continue to allow Grishas to be treated worse than dogs?

You didn't understand it. And the next bottle of Aleksander's kvas that you opened only confirmed your belief that the saints sucked, your brother was an ungrateful scoundrel, and your boyfriend was the only good thing that happened to you. Boyfriend… it felt weird for you to call him that, but you had no other idea in your half-drunk state.

You put another letter into the fire when you suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into his strong chest. You sigh, appreciating his scent and the warmth that emanates from him. His shadows slowly wrap around the two of you as you both kneel in front of the fireplace and the burning letters to your brother.

"Are you playing Inferni?" he asks teasingly as his hands go to the bottle of kvas you're holding, and he takes a sip from it.

"Possible. Did you have to grovel before the king again to get money for Grishas for uniforms, training, and food? Which should actually be his fucking duty to provide this for the soldiers who are bleeding for him and other royal snobs on the Fjerdan border.”

"Possible. Don't say it out loud or elsewhere. I don't want to see that pretty ass through the bars in the dungeon."

"We both know you'd save that ass and drag it back to your bed." you both giggle like fools. You lean more into him and sigh satisfied when he starts running through your hair, playing with it.

"Possible. Very much. Who deserves your hatred?" he asks curiously as you throw another letter into the fire. "Be careful not to set fire to my chambers. I have some nice, matching keftas here for the two of us."

"I'm glad you find it amusing that my brother is a dick." you complain a little, wondering what keftas he's referring to besides the ones you're currently wearing.

He insisted that you have at least one all-black one with red embroidery. Of course you agreed. You wanted people to know you were his.

"He didn't respond?" he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You take his hand in yours and start drawing patterns on it with your finger. You cling to his claw-like ring and play with it for a while, spinning it around his finger.

"He actually did. He write a big 'Fuck you' at the back of one." you say thoughtfully as you shift your gaze to the letters burning in the fireplace. Maybe it was actually better to stop trying to establish contact with him for a moment and give him space to think?

"Don't think about him. You don't need him." he says, nuzzling your temple with his nose. You frown and turn your head to look at him.

"He is my brother... that's a bound that never die." you speak strongly, convinced that you are right.

The determination in your eyes makes him fall silent, staring at you as he thinks about something, or maybe someone, as he mindlessly plays with your fingers—a nervous habit he showed every time he held you against him and he thought about his past. In moments like these, you just wanted to kiss the sadness and pain from his face.

"Maybe." he finally whispers back, lost in thought. Suddenly, he shakes his head slightly and flashes back to you from his memories. "Maybe it is better for him like that? To only care about himself. To show that he is not emotionally connected to anyone. Maybe he is trying to keep you safe?"

"Why live without love? Without someone close to you who waits for you and cares for you? Who believes in you? Who would have your back at your worst and when you need a rescue?"

"Sometimes people have no choice. It's safer to live alone. To care only about yourself. You know that your actions won't hurt anyone, and if they do, it will only hurt you."

"I would rather live one life in the arms of my love than hundreds of them all alone and in meaningless glory."

He tenses, but his grip doesn't loosen around you. If anything, he grows stronger, as if he's clinging to you to make sure you don't go anywhere further than his arms reach.

He kisses your temple and pulls you in so that you're straddling his lap. He strokes your neck and collarbone gently, and after a long, tender kiss, he whispers into your lips:

"I need to get out and visit a few camps near the fold. Come with me… I need to keep an eye on you to make sure you stay in these arms of mine as long as possible." he teases you, but you know his question-order has more meaning than he is willing to admit.

For the first time, neither of you are alone. You have someone to come back to at night, someone to talk to about your problems, someone to hold in your arms. And it's both a pleasurable and addictive feeling for the two of you.

I would've stayed on my knees And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen, and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know I wish you'd left me wondering

Sun Summoner. Saint Alina. Ravka's Savior.

The girl received more titles and merits, more hope placed in her than many saints to whom you prayed. You would feel sorry for her if she didn't completely rob you of YOUR Aleksander.

And you would endure it. Really. If only that little saint hadn't accidentally blurted out his name at dinner while she was talking to you.

And that's why you stood crying in your... his chambers. You were packing instead of getting ready for the winter fiesta celebrations, fully ready to mend your broken heart on the borders of Ravka, preferably in some camp near Fjerda, so that you could vent the anger, despair, and disappointment boiling inside of you to them.

Although you preferred to keep the heart of a certain little saint rather than some Fjerdan or Drüskell, and to be honest, that desire scared you.

Kaz was right. You chose comfort. You could have tried to escape from the Darkling better and put more effort into your escape plans instead of letting yourself be slandered by that damn bastard who gave that sunny whore a kefta in HIS colour after a WEEK. You waited fucking months for him to give you the black kefta you wanted, which was now hanging in his closet, abandoned like a rag.

In your anger, you packed your things blindly, oblivious to your surroundings. That's why you flinched when suddenly HIS hands gently held your arms, preventing you from packing any further.

You don't turn to face him. You don't make a move, waiting for him to say something as you listen to his heartbeat.

"Where are you going?" he asks, but you know he's only doing it to analyse his next move, to come up with a reason in his head why you'd want to leave him, and he's trying to quickly come up with a plan to talk you out of it.

You may not have known what a son-of-a-bitch he was, but at least you knew him almost as well as you knew yourself.

"On a vacation." you huff and shake his arms off of you. You close your leather suitcase with a bang and turn to face him. He notices that you're wearing your red kefta—the first one that clearly wasn't trimmed with a ridiculous amount of black embroidery typical of heartrenders.

"Y/N..." he sighs and reaches for you, but you pull away from him before his hands land on you and your traitorous body succumbs to his familiar touch.

"Don't. Don't even start it. I know what you are going say all to well."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, frowning at you. You look away from him and sit on his bed as you tie your travelling shoes and make sure you have your daggers hidden in them.

"Oh, you know. That typical 'It's not you, it's me' talk. And the classic 'I don't feel the same about you anymore. And it's my fault, not yours.' Just spare us this crap and let me go somewhere where I don't have to watch you cling to that sunny bitch."

In an instant, he's on his knees in front of you, clutching your hands in his. You know that looking into his damn hypnotic eyes will ruin you, but you're too weak to resist him.

"I admit... I've been busy with the Sun Summoner lately... but she's not the one I return to every night. She's not the one I think about every free moment; she's not the one I want to hold in my arms..."

"But she's the one who got the kefta in your colours from you. She's the one who learned your name before I did. The one you trusted right away when I had to earn your trust every fucking week here. She's your equal. Your goddamn complement. I won't stand in the way of your great, epic love and play the role of the other woman, only because you get used to having me around." you say mad and push his hands away from you.

And instead of letting you go and making the one damn right choice in your life, he stands up and traps you in the tight embrace of his arms and shadows.

You scream, squirm, and try to struggle out of his strong arms, even going so far as to pathetically punch his chest with your fists, but weakly enough that it seems more like a frantic act of your despair and hurt than an actual attempt. hurting him.

You scream, squirm, and try to struggle out of his strong arms, even going so far as to pathetically punch his chest with your fists, but weakly enough that it seems more like a frantic act of your despair and hurt than an actual attempt to harm him.

“Milaya, moye serdtse… (Sweet girl, my heart.)” he whispers in your ear, his hands caressing your back tenderly as you tremble against him. "You are the only light of my life. Moi sol ye tselai. (My sun and stars.) There is no one else, and there never will be. Alina may be the Sun Summoner, my opposite and complement, but it is YOU who challenges me, you are my EQUAL. It is you that I want to return to every night, you are with me... you are the one I want to always have with me."

And then it feels so romantic and sweet, so right, when he kisses the tears from your face and pulls the ring from his pocket to slide it on your finger after his quiet: "Kei onolich yash, milaya?" and your little, almost unnoticable nod.

It feels so good when he throws your leather suitcase off the bed in one move and lays you on it, worshipping you all night long and assuring you that he is yours and yours alone. You feel loved. Wanted. Chosen above the one and only Sun Summoner.

And in that moment, his warm, soft lips on yours, his cold hands caressing your body heated by him, the shadows floating around you that he accidentally released, and the sound of his pounding heartbeat in your ears were enough for you to forget that he was planning to gain Alina's trust in a nefarious way. It was so easy to explain it to yourself. It was so easy for you to convince yourself that he was a good man. It was definitely easier than admitting the obvious, painful truth.

After all, that was all you two wanted... to never feel lonely and unimportant again.

God rest my soul I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close Stained glass windows in my mind

The fold is dark. Cold. It doesn't resemble Aleksander's shadows at all. Your fiancé is also nothing like the version you knew.

Version. That's exactly what he was showing you.

Another version of him. Another of his hundreds of lives. You were so naive and stupid. He had to handcuff you to the deck of the ship so you could finally understand what he was really like.

And so you found yourself in the front row, watching the Black Heretic widen his fold.

He has the nerve to walk up to you and brush the hair out of your face that has been ruffled by the wind his squallers have summoned. And he does it with such tenderness that you almost believe in the truth of his feelings. Almost. The handcuffs blocking your power and hidden beneath the fabric of your black dress—another one of his sick ways of marking his ownership—are a stark reminder of how he has degraded you and how he has reduced your role to nothing more than a pretty toy on his arm so that he is not alone in his madness.

"Please... I just want to talk." he whispers, his hand never leaving your cheek as he caresses it with his thumb with utmost care.

You don't look at him. You can't anymore. His face is a blatant reminder of your stupidity and naivety. Your greatest weakness and desire - all hidden in the face of a handsome devil in front of you. A Starless Saint you used to pray to in the past...

"I don't care how long it takes you, but in the end, you'll understand and come to accept that there was no other choice. That I'm doing this for us. For you. For all the Grishas." he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You're shaking. And you curse yourself for doing this, both because you're afraid of him and because his mouth still manages to tear down all the walls you put up because of him around your heart.

"Do not touch me." you snap at him, furious. Trying to at least pretend that you really hated him with every fibre of your being.

This doesn't discourage him. Even the other way around, he pulls you closer to him, tangling his hand in the back of your hair to whisper into your ear:

"I will banish this attitude from you in time, moya tsaritsa." you freeze at his words, realising his true plan—to expand the fold and take over Ravka. He wanted to become a tsar...

"You must be delusional to think for even a second that you will take control over Ravka and put me by your side."

"Isn't that what we promised each other? Stay with each other no matter what? I have seen what you truly are, and I never turned away. I never will." he's trying to convince you, and you know that if it weren't for the numerous lies and half-truths he fed you, you would join him.

You wouldn't care about what he did, what he intended to do, or who he would hurt to fulfil his sick plan that had been hundreds of years in the making. You feel weak and naive like never before. All because of the man, you decided to give your heart and all your devotion.

"I promised this to General Kirigan. Not to the Black Heretic, poisoned by his maniacal beliefs and blinded by the grip of authority and power. No matter how hard you try, you will never have control over anything. Your shadows and pride will be your undoing, Aleksander."

You gasp when he suddenly grabs your jaw roughly, tightening his fingers around your bones and preventing you from saying anything. He glares at you, a combination of betrayal and pain in his dark eyes as he tries to decide what to do with you. And you know that if you were anyone else, he would have used his shadows on you long ago.

And for a moment, you wish that he could finally free you from the suffering, hopelessness, and inner conflict you feel every time you look at his face.

"You shall be right by my side... no matter what you think about me." he promised you, which almost sounds like a threat, and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, near your lips. "You will understand; I know you will... we have all the time we need."

Before you can ask him about the meaning of his words, hell begins to break loose around you.

And you don't know what amazes you more, the fact that Alina is able to resist the bond and summon an incredible amount of light, or the fact that your brother appears next to you, and with the help of some mad hatter with a gun who turns out to be a fabricator, they free you. Kaz and his people take you away from the fold, Aleksander and his Grishas.

You are free.

Only your heart seems to be bleeding, left far behind you in the hands of a man you don't know if he's still alive.

And for the first time in several years, after you have a very emotional conversation with your little brother and after you promise to help the Sun Summoner, you allow yourself to cry quietly in the room they rented in some old inn.

And the worst of it all is that you don't cry for who you were, for the lost years in the Little Palace, or for how Aleksander changed you and transformed you in his image. No. You cry over him because you don't know if you'll ever see that damn bastard again.

And to make matters worse, you find a picture of a Starless Saint in the room. And you know that Aleksander, dead or alive, will haunt you for the rest of your life.

And his engagement ring resting safely on your finger is obvious proof of that.

I regret you all the time Can't let this go I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time

Baghra teaches you how to control and summon shadows.

Yes, Baghra, Aleksander's mother, who apparently turned out to be on your side, teaches you how to control and summon shadows.

During one rather nasty fight with Drüskelles, it turns out you can summon a fucking shadow cut.

And after Aleksander starts haunting you in your dreams and even in broad daylight, just like he does with Alina, you realise that she's not the only one who got an amplifier from him.

And so you found yourself in a library near the village where you were hiding, trying to find any information about Morozova and his amplifiers. And the women sitting across from you weren't much help.

"Why does he haunt her more than he haunts me? Could it have something to do with the fact that the bond between us is falling apart or is less durable than theirs?" Alina asks Baghra. You roll your eyes at her.

"He obviously has other… priorities." the old woman replies, clearly insinuating the motive for these priorities.

"Maybe please stop insinuating such nonsense?" you mumble over your book, trying to read the text.

It didn't help that you were distracted by their conversations and hadn't slept in days, too afraid of meeting him in your dreams. He was all you could think about anyway.

"I'm just stating facts. The boy constantly thinks about you; you think about him. You seek and reach out to each other unconsciously and appear before the other eyes."

"I'm not at all…"

"I wouldn't embarrass myself more if I were you." Kaz says, walking alongside Mal, Inej, and Jasper. Everyone but him is carrying large stacks of books for your wonderful group to look through.

"At least this one has a brain." Baghra comments, insulting everyone at the table. You can see from Kaz's look that he's rather pleased with her comment. "It's better for you that you're a cripple." you huff, amused, seeing Kaz's expression revert to his trademark cold stare. He frowns grumpily as he plops down on the couch next to you.

It was in good enough condition to allow you to lean on it for a while. That's why you took the opportunity and placed your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Are you going to meet your geek?" he asks teasingly, and if you didn't know him, you'd think the snarky tone was meant to mock you.

"You better keep an eye on your girlfriend, Kazzle. She's far too good for you," you whisper back to him and smile victoriously, hearing his heart speed up at the mention of Inej.

"Shut up and go to sleep."

You agree and allow yourself to fall asleep for the first time in days, hoping someone will wake you up if Aleksander invades your dreams again.

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners You and I Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts Give me back my girlhood It was mine first

As soon as you open your eyes, you realise that you are in a different place, somewhere you have never been before. You look around the room and stop in front of the mirror. You shudder as you realise you're wearing the black kefta HE once gave you.

"One day without your annoying presence, is it that much to ask?" you say, turning around after you saw his figure in the mirror.

You shiver, realising that he's much closer than you expected. For a moment, you wish you could pinch yourself to get out of there. It would definitely make life easier for your battered heart.

"You're so successful at avoiding me that I have to take advantage of every opportunity you give me, milaya." he says and takes a step towards you.

You automatically step back, making him clench his fists, keeping them to himself. He sighs and looks at you again, his dark brown eyes scanning your soul, trying, as usual, to find something to convince you to come back to him.

"Please… I just want to talk. You know I would never hurt you." he makes his cute, kicked-up puppy face. Your stupid heart hurts to see him so... broken, but this time your brain is screaming over your heart's pleas for mercy to this man.

"Do you want to talk? Then maybe you can tell me why you put an amplifier in me? Why did you let me summon your shadows?! Why did Grishas have to evacuate from the Little Palace, and why is the king hunting us like Fjerdans and Drüskelles?!" you ask angrily, unconsciously moving closer to him with each sentence you shout at him.

"You can try to make me a monster if it makes you feel better, but I am not your enemy. And you know it. Everything I do, everything I have ever done, I've done for Grishas. And everything I ever do will be for Grishas and for you." he says, as usual, maintaining that damn composure that makes you hate him more. You hate that he pretends he's perfectly fine while you're falling to pieces every day you walk without him by your side.

"Lying. That's all you can do. Lie, manipulate. Tell me, how many gullible girls have you fooled with your beautiful eyes and idealistic talk? How much girlhood have you taken and used for your own benefit?" you ask him, wanting to hurt him, wanting to cause him the same pain he gave you when you found out the truth about him, and your world crumbled around you like a house of cards. Because that's all your life was. Illusion. An illusion created by a man you couldn't hate like he deserved you.

"I've never taken anything you didn't give me willingly."

"I gave you everything just not to lose you. You made me dependent on you; you made life without you seem like cruel torture; you showed me things that I can't even feel with anyone else; you manipulated me so well that I don't feel that I exist without being by your side." you accuse him with tears in your eyes. You're letting them fall freely as you look at his shocked, hurt face. "And every pain you brought me was like fucking heaven. And the worst part of it all is that I would still be your fucking faithful follower and completely surrender my battered soul to you if only you hadn't fucking lied to me."

You let yourself fall apart in front of him. You let him touch you again as he tenderly cups your cheek and pulls your head to his chest. You cry into his kefta, hugging him tightly and digging your fingers into his back as he presses his lips against your head and holds you tightly in his arms.

"I hate you. I hate you." you cry into his chest, inhaling his scent like a drug.

"I will always love you, milaya." he says calmly, but you feel the drops dripping on your hair, and you let yourself believe that they are his own tears as you stand there in each other's arms, clinging desperately to each other.

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen, and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know I wish you'd left me wondering

Fedyor struggles with Ivan's grip. However, both you and the two heartrenders know that this makes no sense.

The two of you (and Baghra, whose whereabouts you were unaware of) were captured by Aleksander's men. You both actually volunteered. You were supposed to distract attention from the rest of your group of world saviors. Aleksander took the throne as he had predicted. And Ivan now leads you before the new tsar.

You walked through the corridors of the Little Palace, knowing this place all too well by heart, and you wondered if, when Aleksander was building it, he always had in the back of his mind that it would serve as his royal residence in the future. You were actually surprised that his first order wasn't to demolish the Grand Palace.

"Moi tsar." Ivan's voice pulls you from your thoughts. You weren't even aware that you had already reached the throne room.

"Finally. Interrogate the prisoner. Tsaritsa stays here." he says, and you feel his gaze on you, but you don't give him enough satisfaction to grace him with your gaze.

Fedyor swallows. You give him a sympathetic look as he walks away, with Ivan holding him tightly. What can war do to two people in love? You think. At least Fedyor knew how to hate Ivan... not like you.

There's an awkward silence between you for a moment. Only the rustle of his royal kefta and the heavy steps he takes in his shoes make you look up at him. And you hold your breath.

Of course, you had heard the rumours about his visit to the fold, leaving him with souvenir scars from his encounter with volcras, but well... it wasn't your fault that you immediately thought how hotter he was because of them. And with a crown on his head and a black kefta with red embroidery, he looked amazing. He had no right to look like that when you stood in front of him in your brother's oversized shirt and pants borrowed from Inej.

"Tsaritsa?" you finally ask with a sneer, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I knew you'd react to that." he says with a smirk, walking over to you. "I promised you this, remember? And I keep my promises. Even if I didn't really know you, Y/N Rietveld." you flinch at the sound of your real name, which you somehow managed to push from your memory. You also notice his clear reference to what you told him then in the fold. 'You lied to me too. About your identity. A paid killer. That's why you were at the palace, right? That's why I got the cup from you, with poison in it, if I'm not mistaken?"

"As you can see, quite miserable if you're still alive. Besides, I tought telling you half a story was not a laying at all?" you say, looking at him defiantly. He just laughs and stands in front of you, chest to chest, as you stare at one another.

"Is this how it will be now? Using each other's words against each other?"

"You can let me go, and then you won't have to talk to me at all." you say and he laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

His fingers wander along your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone, to your shoulder, and to the handcuffs on your hands, blocking your power.

"That's not the option. You are staying right where you are, right where you belong. With me." he says, and to your surprise, he removes the handcuffs from you. He takes your hands in his and presses his lips on the small, almost imperceptible marks on your wrists from handcuffs. He also didn't miss the opportunity to fondly stroke the engagement ring he gave you, which is still on your finger. It makes you blush unwillingly. "I can be your monster and force you to stay to make the whole situation easier for you."

"I would never choose you. Blood is thicker than water." you say, furious at his suggestion that you would choose him over your brother.

"But you can't leave without any of this, can you?"

You become silent. Because he's right. You can't live without him, and you have no idea what awaits you next, but you know that you will have to lose someone. And you are afraid of the end result more than anything else.

Suddenly, he stands behind you. You feel his chest rising and falling with each breath on your back as he suddenly raises his hands. There is something heavy, metallic, and heavy on your head. The bastard gave you a damn crown.

"It's you and me, Y/N. And we are all we need anyway." he says and places a kiss on your temple. He presses his nose, inhaling your scent and hugging you tightly, pressing you against him as his shadows circle the room and wrap around the two of you. You can't deny it and say that you don't feel comfortable at all, that you don't feel the relief that his presence once brought you. Because you do. You've always done. "I will give you the world, everything you want... all you have to do is stay."

You don't protest when he places a gentle hand on your jaw and tilts your head to kiss you. You don't try to break free from his grip as he deepens the kiss, expressing all the longing, anger, and affection you feel for each other. And you eagerly push him to his throne, to straddle him and prove that you want him as desperately as he wants you.

Oh, God rest my soul I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close Stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time

You stood next to him. Just like he wanted. This was your plan before you even came back to him. Fedyor also got back into his good graces and gave them information, and you tried to convince your stupid heart that you were doing the right thing. And now you watched as Alina fought with him to destroy the fold.

And you're really prepared for him to die. You replayed this moment a thousand times in your head as you lay by his side in the Little Palace, watching him in his sleeping state.

What you are not ready for, and what the volcras around you make you realise, is life without him. Without his shadows. Without his voice. Without his dark eyes. Without his touch.

You're still trying to fight with it. Convince yourself that you are stronger and that you can do it. But when you see Alina pick up a Grisha steel dagger and aim it at Aleksander's chest, you react automatically.

You link your hands and form a cut faster than you can process it, and in a moment, the Sun Summoner ceases to exist.

It's just you and Aleksander in the fold.

The world stops for you. Your hands shake as you realise what you've done. And if it weren't for Aleksander's quick reaction and logical thinking, the volcra would have sniffed you out before you could take a step. He guides you out of your crease without even stopping for a moment. But you know it doesn't make sense. You will both perish without light.

Volcra attacks you, despite Aleksander's best attempts to keep them away, and cuts your arm. You scream as suddenly a bright light flows out of you along with your blood. Both you and Aleks freeze and stare at the strong beam of light from your shoulder.

Aleksander tightens his grip on you. You feel him as he amplifies the light within you and brings you out of the fold. You stop only when you are a few metres away from it. You kneel on the ground tiredly, mentally both cursing and thanking the saints, because you have no goddamn idea how you survived this and why Alina's powers transferred to you.

Aleksander is quickly at your side and wraps you in his tight embrace, whispering something you don't quite understand yet. You're too focused on the fact that you can't feel his heartbeat anymore. Your own powers are gone...

And with that, you realise that Y/N Rietveld had long been buried six feet deep beneath the walls of the Little Palace when your eyes met the devil you sold your soul to for the first time.

You gently push Aleksander away from you and kiss him, knowing that this is the only thing that can calm the storm of thoughts raging inside you as you absorb new revelations.

The fold claimed many lives. And it will absorb more than one in the future. It was the tomb of many common people as well as Grishas. And you know it buried Y/N Rietveld/Brekker today.

But a completely new person came out of it. Y/N Morozova. And she was no longer going to pretend that her soul knew anything of her old life anymore. She wasn't going to waste another night wondering how her life could've, would've, or should've gone. Not wasting another moment in the arms of the love of her arms, wondering if it was right to care about him. You didn't play it safe. So now you're going to take what life has got for you. And not alone. Never alone anymore.

"Let's go home, Sasha." you ask him, whispering.

And after a tender kiss on the forehead, you know that you couldn't have made a better decision. Maybe your soul has always been under the care of the saints, specifically this Starless one?

In any case, being the devil's wife suited you.

#oneshot #darkling #general kirigan #the darkling #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x y/n #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling x you #dark love #toxic love #toxic relationship #toxic behavior #falling in love #romantic #romance #darkling shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #grishaverse #sab #taylor swift #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morovoza #alina starkov #genya safin #kaz brekker

[faeologist]

Dating Fred Weasley

#booklover #booklr #booktok #harry potter #dark aesthetic #harry potter aesthetic #hogwarts legacy #dark wizard aesthetic #fred weasley #dating Fred weasley #Fred weasley aesthetic #weasley aesthetic #weasley family #fall #fall aesthetic #autumn #autumn aesthetic #dark autumn #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x you #orange aesthetic #dark orange aesthetic

[h-doodles]

Connection // Consumption // Possession is my way of Love & you are mine as i am yours, various - a web weave for it's quicker & easier (to eat your young) by @pinkcannibal 💖

#IM SO INSANE ABT THIS FIC IM SCREAMING I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU #anyways hehe #web weaving #marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #christina ricci #lee makes stuff #simp.txt #clown.txt #to me i am hers the same way she is mine and we are two halves ripped apart and 2 puzzle pieces who's been lost in the dark #and we are connected in the same way the greek gods have created soul mates and connected in the same way the fates have woven their thread #and we are one in the same one in the same one in the SAME!!!!!!!! #bound by blood and by love and by our sheer force will and i want nothing more but to sink my teeth in to her neck just as she does mine #and claw my way into her chest and fall asleep next to her heart raw and bruised and bloodied #i am. being SO normal abt it. #eat your young

[yonaioana]

Masterlist!

Genshin impact

Obey me

My hero academia

Seven deadly sins (preferably Ban)

Dc (mostly Damian)

Killing stalking

Dark fall (the bl)

Paper flower ( the bl)

Slashers

Demon slayer

Spy family

Tmnt

Ennead

Gravity falls

Wardstone chronicles

Shadowhunters (the book since I have not seen the series)

Howl's moving castle

If you want something that is not here it will take longer cause I will have to look into it.

Will write: fluff smut angst(not hardcore angst)

Will not write: pedophilia; r*pe; death; drugs; etc.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #damian al ghul x reader #robin x reader #obey me #shadowhunters x reader #shadowhunters #mha x reader #mha smut #mha x plus sized reader #killing stalking #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny x you #sds x reader #dark fall x reader #paper flower x reader #ennead x reader #spy family x reader #tmnt x you #tmnt x y/n #tmnt x reader #slashers x reader #slasher community #slasher fucker #the wardstone chronicles

[drakestoes]

Can we just bring back last October when that huge goofy rumour hoax was going about that drew died in a car accident and so many cunts believed it 😭💀

#drew starkey #if he died we would all fall into a dark place #rafe cameron #zach mclaren #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x reader #obx #hellraiser #the other zoey

[ferigrieving]

kiss me (until my lips fall off).

⊹ ࣪ ˖ in which the crow and the raven fall in love.

pairing: tokoyami x g.n reader

genre: friends to lovers, domestic fluff, reader is tradgoth (author is also tradgoth), reader has a crow's wings, reader is part of class 1-A, mostly canon-divergent

status: ongoing

⤷ 001. dracula

⤷ 002. coming soon...

#⊹ ࣪ ˖ greywrites #⊹ ࣪ ˖ kiss me (until my lips fall off) #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #fumikage tokoyami #mha tokoyami #tokoyami fukimage #tokoyami x reader #dark shadow

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Soon back from the grave: Snow Falls!!!

Dark Aemond x oc reader snippet sneak peak

Aemond gives his horse to the stablehand, pushing two silver pieces in his hands to ensure the animal is taken care of. He then turns to you, his wife and his precious fox. 

‘’Shall we help her ladyship from her horse, my Prince?’’ One of the guards asks. You are startled, you had forgotten all about them joining you for the meeting.

Aemond stares at you with so much love and happiness in your eyes that it almost pains you when his scowl returns, addressing the soldier. ‘’You won’t touch even the shit of her horse, let alone my wife. I shall fetch her myself.’’ He declares, moving closer to you. 

There is that darkness you’ve grew quite fond of. You hide your blush and smirk, quite enjoying it whenever your husband shows the little soldiers who is in charge. ‘’I am not a thing to be fetched.’’ You tell him, before he gently lifts you from your horse, helping you down on the stones. He ignores your comment, kissing your lips the moment you are both with your feet on the ground again.

‘’I never said you were a ‘’thing’’. I just said I would get what belongs to me.’’ He grins, leaning in for another soft kiss.

-------

A/n

This is a complicated story as it started reader insert but Willa has a name obviously, a ancestry, a story, a background, and even a face claim so I try to avoid blushing in new stories but for this one it made sense to have it as Willa kind of has a face claim and I've wrote it here before.

BUT ITS MY FAV LOOK AHAHA I LOVE SNOW FALLS SO MUCH IM HAPPY TO BE BACCCK🩷🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Willa to aemond in chapter 1

Willa now

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen x oc #darkfantasy #aemond one eye fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond x you #snow falls

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

When the Hammer Falls I

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, blood, violence, murder, pain, abuse.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The old king faces doubts from his jarls and himself. (Viking AU)

Characters: silverfox!Thor

Note: So I was encouraged to go off and I offed.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Tina Belcher loves butts. I also love butts. Take care. 💖

The black ocean laps at the rocky shore, a distant crash of foam licking over sharp rocks, as an indifferent grey sky ripples above. Salt laces the air as the cold seeps through your layers of wool, sending a shiver up your spine and into your bones. 

Your father's boots suck in the mud ahead of you as he leads the way to the longhouse where the old king sits over his realm. Bodies shuffle in the early din, the threat of rain carried on damp winds. Y

ou hug yourself as your mother puts her head down against a gust and your brother, Ulf, slips in front of you. Your sister, Tove, catches him and helps him evade the notice of your father, no doubt a lash earned by his folly.

You slow as you approach the tall entryway, grand pillars of oak set beneath a thicker beam, opening to the vast space of the royal keep. You wait behind another family, that of Jarl Arkin, amid the burgeoning flow of villagers. Your father meets with Arkin in the rush and you note how they whisper through barely moving lips before parting.

You grab your mother's sleeve, a roiling in your gut, as if something is amiss, as if there is more than a storm brewing. You cannot say what but the shift of bodies, the exchange of pointed glances, and the rustle of fabric puts you on edge. There is foreboding all around, anticipation thick in the flicker of torches as you come into the great hall.

The king wears a mantle of white fur, a giant bear he slew upon northern shores in one of his vaunted raids. A land he told of often, woven of scenes more fit to legend. His hair, silver and thick, with braids hanging around his face and from his beard, flows over the top of the skin. His left eye is patched to cover its vacancy and a long scar runs from brow to chin on the same side. More markings trail down his neck and beneath his tunic, a leather belt with a hunting knife sheathed and several bones to show his warriors bearing. His leather leggings stretch tightly across his thick muscles, still finely built in his greyer years.

His single blue eye gleams as he watches his subject file in, those he's brought glory and riches, of whom he's ruled for years beyond your own life. Thor the Destroyer, the Slayer, the Victorious.

You follow your mother to the horde along the sides of the great chamber, your father standing with the other Jarls near the front, flanking the throne in their dyed tunics and beaded braids. Your brother, still too young, stands at your mother's other shoulder as your sister peeks between your heads.

The ruckus slowly fades as the king raises a large hand, long fingers stretching out and curling into a fist to declare his desire. He lifts his chin as he looks over his audience, his derisive pupil rolling over the haze of faces staring back. He sits alone, no wife, no heir, the only victory he never claimed.

"The winter looms," his voice booms like thunder, rattling through you as a few gasp at his powerful timbre. "Our raiders have brought us many goods for our survival and crops are nearly reaped to the dirt. The kingdom's stores would hold us over for two winters and some, but we must be vigilant. We cannot risk rot or the greed of thieves, even the desperation of those intruders from abroad."

"My king," Arkin begins, "we are readied for the winter, we have our duties and will keep them."

"Aye," the other jarls bow their heads in agreement.

"And my king," the jarl continues, "you have ruled us well, for many years, countless, and yet we fear for the future."

"Future," the king growls, "what future have I not conquered for you?"

"My king, you offer us no heir--"

"We've come to speak of the people, of their bellies and the cold. I will not entertain your gripes of my duty, I only bid that you do your own."

"It cannot be ignored," your father intones and you flinch. Your mother lowers her chin as your sister mutters her confusion. "Valhalla will have you one day, my king, and you would leave us without seed. You know as well as any a ship cannot be steered without a firm hand."

"It is a concern, but not yours," the king bellows as he squares his shoulders, "and not a matter for this time."

"Time? How much of that is left for this matter?" Jarl Kol adds boldly.

King Thor growls and signals to some unseen thrall. His hammer is brought to him by two silent slaves and he lays it over his lap, displaying the red leather banded around the handle and the blocked head atop it. A weapon only he could wield.

"My Jarls, I did not think you cowards," Thor snarls, "tell me now, so that all may witness, do you share in this treason?"

"Treason, my king," Arkin steps forward, "we are no traitors. We are men of duty. Our duty is to this kingdom, to these people, and we only ask that you provide us a prince."

"Three!" Your father shouts as he comes parallel to Arkin, "three wives and not a single child. It does make us wonder. It seems a cruelty only the gods would issue--"

"Careful, Lord Sten," Thor warns as he tilts his head and wraps his hand around the hilt of his hammer.

"As jarls, we have the right to speak it, we have children, we think of what should befall them should they come of age without a rightful--"

The king stands, his stature snuffing the breath from your father at once. He steps down from his throne, a carved stone seat draped in a lion skin and several other furs. Thor twirls his hammer in his hands as he approaches Arkin and your father. A tremulous hush smothers the crowd, wives, daughters, and sons watching the noble husbands cower before the grey warrior.

"We've spoke on this. Where it is appropriate but now you bring this to me here. To shame me, your king."

"No, my king--" Arkin pleads.

"I did not say you could speak," Thor hollers as he rests his hammer against his shoulder and towers over his court, "you stand before me, before my people, and you challenge me, jarl."

"No challenge--"

Arkin cannot finish as the king pulls his hammer down and hooks the head around that of the jarl. He rips the man away from the rest and flings him around, sending him sprawling over the floor. 

“You are, indeed, no challenge.”

Thor puffs as he grips his weapon and stomps towards the jarl as he tries to crawl away. Arkin scrambles with fearful grunts as he hears the pursuit and no doubt senses the shadow of the king.

"Be this clear to all, hold your snakish tongues..." He raises the hammer with two hands, "or be cast out."

He swings down upon Arkin, the stone head crushing his skull in a single blow. You cry out with the rest of the crowd, covering your mouth as sickness swells in your belly. The man falls flat in his sudden demise and the hammer meets the floor, leaving a smatter of blood and bone across the wood. 

"Lord Sten," Thor lifts his hammer and shakes off the sinew, "conspirer, coward," he declares as he faces your father, "will you face your end as a man or will you rot outside the gates of Valhalla?"

"My king, please--"

"Why, you must know better than me, your king. Perhaps you should sit the throne, eh?" He mocks as he points the bloodied hammerhead in your father's face, "you have... two daughters, yes?"

"My king," your father whimpers.

"You think yourself a man, more a man than I?"

"No," your father puts his hands up, "no–

"And I should take a wife? Yes? Would you that I get a child on her? That I bend her over and fill her with my seed? You say that is my duty and would it not be an honour that your own kin carry that?"

"Please, my king--"

"A fine idea, jarl, and a wise counselour you are," Thor taunts and grabs your father by his throat, "I shall fuck your daughter with your blood still upon my hammer."

Your veins run cold as your sister, Tove, grasps your arm. Your mother stretches her arm across your front and steps in front of you both. She whispers, "close your eyes."

You do as she bids as you hear your father begging and another mulch. You squeak as your heart races and those around you gasp and gag. The hammer cuts through the air, again and again, pounding the bone into the floor, shaking the earth beneath you. 

You tremble against your sister. You turn and hug her, she is younger.

"It has to be me," you say to her.

"No, I--"

"You are young," you quiver as your tears spill onto her dress, "and father loved you best."

Amid the chaos, there's a jostle and your mother cries out as she's pulled away from you. You turn to face the men, the tall warriors with their blades on their belts. You shield Tove as you shake and gulp up your courage.

"Me, I am his eldest," you proclaim.

Before you can say more, you're seized by your arms and dragged forward, soles skidding over the wood. The king stands in the puddle of your father's remains, his hammer dripping. He laughs as he sees you quaking before him, your legs weak as your tears stream out. You feel sick at the stench of blood and death.

"The bride must be cleansed!" The king declares as he lifts his hammer, "let us wash away her maidenhood. To the sea!"

Your mother bawls your name as your brother's squealing sobs follow you. You're turned away from the throne as the king leads the charge, striding between the bodies as if marching to battle. You cannot set one foot before the other, instead ushered along on the strength of the men.

"Sten, oh, Sten," your mother's grief fades into the rabble behind you, the cheering and jeering at your back.

The sky crackles as you come out into the steely air, the world blurred behind your tears as you try to mop them up with your sleeves. A cacophony of sound surrounds you as you're carried with the tide of people, the high roofs and low fences passing you by. You cannot resist, you cannot think, numb as grief swirls into horror.

It cannot be real. It's some nightmare sent by the gods, you must wake and wipe away the trickster's visions. Your breath quickens as your heartbeat thrums behind your ears, the noise of the water growing louder and louder. Awake! Awake! It is untrue. 

You nearly tumble as you're driven down the crooked path towards the shore. The waters stir wildly as you come upon the coast, the slapping of waves on rocks shakes you from your maddened trance. Your feet kick through pebbles and sand as the men haul you forth towards the bleak sea.

The king stabs his hammer into the dirt, deep enough that it stands on its own. Blood stains his cuffs and the white fur on his shoulders. He wipes his face, a streak of red spread over his cheek. 

"Brother, oh scared seer, the vows," he snaps his fingers as cold water floods your sewn shoes, the men pushing you into the ebb and flow, "wash away the father's cowardice and bring me my bride!"

The command is dulled by a deluge as you're plunged into the salty foam. A large hand holds our head under as you swipe your arms blindly, frantically, fearing that they truly mean to drown you. You sputter and choke down a mouthful, then another, feeling the sea leak into your lungs.

You're drawn above the black surface at once, the icy air chatters in your teeth. You let out a violent brrrr as the layers of wool slog you down, the men jerking you impatiently back to the sand. They struggle to drag you from the water as you hang between them.

They toss you forward so you land in the dirt, grains sticking to your skirts as you shake. You huff and puff, spitting up water as the winds bellow.

"Rise," the king's fur-trimmed boot sinks into the sand before you and you're lifted by the back of your collar, "fair maiden and hear your vows."

You're turned to face a slender man with dark hair limned with silver, the king's own brother, a mysterious man with an ever-present smirk. You shiver and keep your arms across your chest, trying to warm yourself as you dangle from the king's grasp.

"By Odin's law and the warrior's way, we stand witness to you, King Thor, and you, daughter of Sten, in your union. Swear it upon Odin."

"By Odin, she is mine," Thor snarls.

You grip your arms and quake, nose running and throat sore from the salty sea. You shudder as you can hardly still the incessant cold nipping as your flesh and rattling your bones.

"By Odin…"

Your words drift up into a yelp as you are suddenly taken off your feet. Your middle hits the king's shoulder, knocking the breath from you as you wheeze. He holds you with one arm as he reaches to dislodge his hammer, "so you hear it, your king has married. Merciful he be to take the daughter of the traitor, and take her he shall." 

He raises the hammer and a hurrah goes through the crowd, drowning out the weeping and wailing of shock. You hang over him, helpless as he begins up the coast, your back to the kingdom ahead. You lift your head and look out at the sea as the sky claps with a peel of furious thunder.

🌩️

You'd never been past the main hall of the royal longhouse. The thought fall upon you as hard as you hit the layers of fur and straw that trim the king's bed-closet. It's unimportant, but you can't think of what's happening.

His hammer drops heavy to the floor, a thunderous crack in the timber. He swipes away the fur and tosses it to lay by your head. Blood and sweat mingle and tickle your nose as your wet cheeks sting. He picks at the laces across the front of his leggings as he steps to the edge.

You turn your head to look at the wall, to watch how your hand shakes, how the sleeve of your dress wrinkles from the sea water.

The open air of the long house flows in behind him as he climbs up, a groan from the wooden frame beneath him, nestled in a nook of wooden walls. He leaves the woven curtains open as activity flurries below. A feast for the wedding, like all else that morning, unexpected and disarrayed.

Panic pulses through you. You roll over and lift yourself on elbows and knees, trying to crawl past his burly form. He catches you and flings you back to hit the wall. You whimper and push yourself up, head wobbling on your neck.

"Don't you be scurrying away, rabbit," he chuckles as he pulls apart the top of his leggings, the hair along his stomach thickening down his pelvis, "be a good wife for me."

"N--" you stop yourself from protesting, trembling as he gets closer and closer. 

His blue eye sparkles, brilliant like a gem opposite the worn leather of his patch. His hair, silver waves tangled around rune-adorned braids, hangs in shanks around his chiseled face. You see the man he was and still is; handsome despite the time etched in scars and wrinkles.

"Come on," he growls and reaches for you, gripping the nape of your neck and twisting you around. His gruffness reminds you of who he is, what he's done, and what will happen.

He sidles you in front of him on your knees, keeping you down on your elbows as he kneels behind you. His hot breaths scour through the damp fabric of your dress and another shiver breezes over you. He grunts as he lets you go, his legs around yours as he fumbles behind you.

Cold metal slides down behind your collar and rips through your dress. He slices the wool to your waist and does the same to your linen shift. He tosses the knife to bounce across the floor without and tears both layers to the hem. You weep and drop your head against the fur that carries his scent.

He grabs your hips and forces your ass high, pushing your thighs to bend your legs under you. He slaps your ass so the sound reverberates and he kneads the flesh as he inches closer.

"That's it, rabbit," he sneers as he shoves his hand between your legs, feeling your folds with his calloused fingertips. 

You wince and let out a weak murmur. He spreads your cunt with his thick knuckles and shifts behind you, bending slightly as he angles his tip along your thigh. Your muscles clench as your spine goes rigid. You suck in air as he searches along your folds and prods heedlessly.

You stretch your arm out to curl your fingers into the wooden slats of the wall as he pushes into you. He growls as he leans harder into you, trying to break through the resistance. Slowly, you let him in as your body tenses. You let the air escape your chest and groan.

He grabs your shoulders, frustrated as he rocks his hips, trying to delve deeper as your walls clench and refuse him. You try to let go, try not to be there. You close your eyes as you urge your body to give in.

His nails dig into you and he thrusts. Your insides sear as he impales you. Your hand slips down the wall as your gurgle and tears spring anew while agony courses from your core. He moves a large hand to the back of your head and pushes it down against the fur, jerking again and sinking even further. 

You scream at the sheer torture of his intrusion. It feels as if you're being stabbed, gutted by a blade from the inside. He rams against your ass and you sob, stretching an arm back to touch his thigh, to try to slow him. He ruts harder as if you've asked for more and your back racks.

He rears back in long strokes, crashing back into you without relent. His grizzly growls fill your ears as your pathetic babbling tumbles from your lips across the fur-covered straw. You cover your face as you tried to hold in the torment as it scrapes from your throat.

"A king must beget a son, eh," he snarls as his flesh claps against yours, his other hand frames your waist as your legs slide out and you flatten beneath him. He straddles you and bends to hold himself flush to your back, "ah, but his wife must grow his seed, yes? She must be of strong make, she must-- obey." 

His hand brushes up your back and pets your head as he pants into your hair. He cradles your skull as he buries his nose against your scalp and fucks you faster. His weight keeps you trapped beneath him, though you couldn't move if you tried. Your hips split apart with each tilt of his pelvis, your walls on fire and aching.

"Yes, little one, is there any wife who might be worthy?" He purrs, "a fourth, to put the three to rest, or join them."

"Please," you gulp through your tears, "please..."

"You will have it, wife," he quickens again, "a king's heir in your womb, upon your father's grave, you will bear my chi--"

His voice peters off and he pushes his head up, pinning his forearm across your shoulders as he rolls his hips into you. He quakes and spills into, a slick warmth that soothes your walls and trickles out around his shaft. 

He slows, exhaling over you, and pushes himself back to his knees. He sighs and tugs on the shorn remnants of your dress.

"You must dress for the feast," he pulls out, a gush flowing between your lips, "at least a skin to cover your ass."

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #when the hammer falls #viking au #au #mcu #marvel #avengers

[adalwolfgang]

🖤Hyperfixation Station💛

Helloo I'm Adal! (Any pronouns) Certified Jervis Tetch (Benedict Samuel) enjoyer along side jervis-tetch-my-beloved! I'm here to write, draw, and make friends in whatever fandom I have stumbled into!

🔞nsfw blog so minors be aware🔞 🖤Multi-fandom; Right now I'm hyper focused on anything batman or JimchiASMR related but will still write for other things. Messages and inbox will likely always be open🖤 💛Proship requests are allowed!💛

AO3•TikTok•Insta Discord: adalwolfgang (Feel free to dm about anything if you can't get ahold of me via tumblr!) Sideblogs: Bo Sinclair•JimchiASMR•Batman Imagines

🖤Inbox and Dm's will almost always be open!💛

Inbox 📥 9/♾️

Rules: 🖤I'll delete any request i don’t vibe with without explanation 💛I don't work in order of requests, more to inspiration and depending on how long your ask is. 🖤I need to know character(s) + theme (plot) + reader gender/genitals etc.

What you can request: 💛Character Interaction (ex. asking Jervis Tetch a question and getting a in character response) 🖤Any kind of fanfiction since I can’t list them all. 💛Headcanons (character limit is 9) 🖤Imagines 💛Reactions 🖤I ship you with...(describe yourself) 💛Letter from a character

(Dividers used on my page and posts are normally by: @cafekitsune)

Short list of fandoms I'm familiar with (The gradient colored fandoms are the ones I'm currently hyperfixated on) : 🖤Batman Rogues Gallery (Mainly Gotham TV series) 💛Horror (Slashers) 🖤Gravity Falls 💛Supernatural 🖤JimchiASMR universe 💛RPF (Actors and Celebrities) 🖤Dead Boy Detectives 💛The Sandman

(Again this is just examples of the fandoms I'm currently in though I will take requests on other things, it might just take longer for me to research them.)

#masterlist #x reader #reader insert #incorrect quotes #imagines #oneshots #nb reader #female reader #male reader #fandoms #gravity falls x reader #onceler x reader #gotham x reader #lost boys 1987 x reader #tlb x reader #house of wax x reader #slashers x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #near dark #imagine #platonic #fluff #angst #oneshot #headcanons #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #rusty nail joy ride 2 #steam powered giraffe #spg x reader

[kakusu-shipping]

Ok ok ok but what if po3 was in denial? Like he refuses to believe hes that bad? Like he wants to believe that he has better reasons and he wouldn't go as far as they would? I feel like he would deny it even to himself for a good long while. I think he would only reach that point when pushed and hed have a nervous breakdown over it. Yknow like how some survivors will sometimes become the thing they hate/fear but dont want to acknowledge what they've become by making up excuses?

Okay. This concept is starting to leave "Ha ha funny Yandere robot" territory and that's a little uncozy for me personally. Like I'm still here and I will continue to engage you in thoughtful discussion but like. Anon you should make this post on your own blog instead of sending it to me.

Anyway yeah Yandere P03 who slowly isolates you and takes away your choice the same way the other Scrybes had done to him would absolutely give himself a mountain of excuses as to why he's doing it that makes it different from why they did it.

He's protecting you from them. He's giving you the game you wanted. He's just keeping you safe and entertaining you and doing everything he knows you want before you even have to ask.

I think the only think that'd trigger a breakdown is if you, the object of his affection, the one he's building all these excuses around, called him out on it. Compared his actions to the other scrybes, denied wanting any of this.

But you wouldn't do that.

You love him.

You'd never be so cruel

Look at all he's done for you.

You'd never imply he's the same as them.

You love him.

#P03 X Reader #In concept anyway #Look nothing against actual dark/trauma fics it's just. #Not my jam #I'm for the cycle of abuse and the fall out and recovery but I am not #I am not the guy to write that my dude #Anon you have a blog. I know you do. You need a Tumblr account to send asks #Just make the post #I don't think I understand anons #I enjoy the thought exercises trust me I love a back and forth #But atm it's me taking to the void about YOUR concept bud #Get off anon and reblog the ask sometime or just make your own post #cause I think I'm done with this now

[ohlovxr]

What about stepbro!remus finding reader smoking pot in her room? And he says he’ll tell her mom if she doesn’t do exactly what he wants and that’s how she finds herself sucking him off most days after school !

Hope you feel better soon xxxx

first of all, thank you my love <33333 and second of all, eeekkkk stepbro!remus (a favourite i gotta say)!!!

he’s unbearable every time because he’s always got something to say! you’re both constantly mouthy with each other, but now, he’s the one who’s got all the say (literally because… you know). the first few times you do it, you’re tearing up on his cock because the fat head that prodded at the back of your throat was such a new feeling :( and so he’s giving you a condescending, “oh, don’t worry, love. practice makes perfect, and we’ve got plenty of time, don’t we?”

whenever you forget a hair tie or something and your hair is in the way, he’s the most annoying! he’s just watching you struggle with a little smirk on his face… and whenever you go to pull your hair back, his cock still in your mouth when you do, he purposely uses the time that your hands aren’t resting on this thighs to thrust up into your throat n make you gag n drool even more all over him :(( he’ll tell you, “y’know, i could hold your hair back f’you if you ask nicely, bunny.” (and despite the way you mumble for him to stop calling me bunny, you always end up asking him and can’t help but appreciate the way he’s actually gentle with it)

and so every single thing he says makes you huff and cry out in irritation as if it doesn’t make your cunt clench and your panties all wet to listen to it with his cock resting heavy and twitching on your tongue.

#so sorry for the hours late reply when i literally was asking for asks when you sent this #i feel asleep 😭 #and now i’m about to fall asleep again bc it’s two am #ah the sickness sleep schedule #gotta love her #remus lupin x reader #notsfw #stepbrother!remus #tw stepcest #remuslupin.darkfic #dark fic #tw dubcon #<- blackmail so yk #ignore the hair part if it doesn’t apply to you but i just kinda put it bc i liked the idea lol #it’s seperate for that reason #i also had to add the gentle thing bc i need some sort of soft vibe lol #like something that says i care in the very slightest at the very least ykwim #edit: now that i’m looking back at this in the morning it feels so ooc #lmfaooo #but anyways