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hottpinkpenguin · 4 months

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

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

Eager

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look-”

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

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

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

“Eager are we, pretty girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#shadow and bone requests #aleksander kirigan #general kirigan x oc #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x oc #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova #darkling imagine #darkling fanfiction #darkling shadow and bone #the darkling #darkling #ben barnes imagine

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shawty-writes-a-little · 5 months

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Wedding theatrics

general Kirigan x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k+

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

Warnings: angst, sexual puns, cheating, toxic marriages

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you very much for your insight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

#general kirigan x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone show #general kirigan x reader angst #general kirigan x reader smut #darkling imagine #darkling head canons #ben barnes x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #aleksander kirigan

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moonlightgrisha · 11 months

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Show me

Ch. 6 He knows who you are, now, and he wishes to know you better. [Masterlist] Previous - Next

Your new room is beautiful, even more than your apartment in the Grand Palace. The view is beautiful too, on the courtyard and the surrounding wall, and the windows are not even sealed closed, meaning he doesn't think you could, or want to escape.

You sit there, looking at the refined tapestry on the wall, uncertain whether or not you should feel a prisoner.

You met Genya, a few hours ago. You had just shown to your new quarters, and the General was gone. He had been silent, and polite, and mysterious enough to drive you crazy.

But you knew Genya. You already met her while she was attending the Queen. You always liked her, and the two of you also gossiped a little, during those endless receptions.

She found you wandering around the room like a caged creature. She had brought some lunch with her, and she smiled. "I thought you could use a friend", she said.

"I didn't realize we were friends", you replied, with a hint of hope.

"Well, how convenient I'm determined to be one". She sat down at a small table in front of the window and gestured to the chair in front of her.

"Did he send you?" you asked, sitting down.

"Of course he did", Genya replied. "It was the most sensible thing to do. But it doesn't mean I'm not genuinely interested in how you are feeling now. Or curious to know what happened".

"I guess I do have a story to tell", you said.

You told her everything, and you felt relieved.

Genya listened, and fell silent for a long time once you had ended you tale.

"You are safe, here", she eventually said. "You can be what you are".

"You mean a weapon?" you replied. "A valuable tool, for them to use? Because that's not what I am".

You immediately realized you had struck a nerve. Genya lowered her eyes, and seemed to drift away, but just for a moment.

"We all have to endure, if we wish to be eventually free", she concluded. She sounded so wise, and she was right.

"Am I his prisoner?" you asked, right before Genya left. You both knew who you were referring to, and there was no need to explain.

"He will say you are his guest", she whispered. "But actually, you are what you make yourself".

She paused, and before walking out the door, she said: "He wishes you joined him for dinner, tonight. That's why he sent me in the first place".

Your heart missed a beat. "You can tell him I will be pleased to accept his invitation".

It felt the right thing to say, but now, as you wait for someone to come and take you to him, you are not so sure anymore.

You hear a knock at the door. You rush to open it. Ivan, the Heartrender, the General's right hand man, is there.

You follow him through the unfamiliar corridors of the Little Palace, suddenly feeling a little homesick. There's life behind all those closed doors you are passing by, people just like you, blessed or cursed with strange powers, and you wonder if you'll ever be part of their world, or if you'll just stay forever in between, being neither Grisha, neither otkasat'sya.

Ivan opens the doors of the General's quarters, then disappears.

The Darkling welcomes you in.

He wears is black kefta, but the collar is unbuttoned. He is dashing like a prince, and you proceed to ignore him and his piercing dark eyes, while you make a few steps inside the room.

It is comfortably warm, the walls are filled with bookshelves and maps, and candles have been lit in every corner. There is a small table set for two, and he gallantly moves the chair for you to sit on.

He knows how to behave around royalty, and you remember you are a princess. When he sits in front of you, you look haughtily down at him and say nothing.

"I trust you found your quarters comfortable", he says.

"Yes, they are suitable", you answer. You also manage to add: "Thank you", but it doesn't come easily.

Dinner is exquisite, and you haven't eaten much the whole day, but you struggle to enjoy it as you would in any other occasion.

You notice there is only water on the table. "No wine?"

"I like a clear head", he replies. "Although, occasionally, I might indulge a little fog".

"But not tonight".

"Not tonight".

You stare at each other and you feel the urge to say something, anything to break the silence.

"Of course. You must need a clear mind, to interrogate me".

He chuckles. "Interrogate you?"

"Isn't this the purpose of it all?" you make a gesture to the table. "I deceived you, and I would, still, if you hadn't exposed my secret so... easily. Actually, what was that? I didn't even know I could summon in the daytime".

"I amplify other Grisha's powers".

"Simply by touching them?"

"Simple as that".

You raise your eyebrows, considering it. "How unconvenient. People must have tried to use you too".

You expect him to reply, instead he says nothing. When you look at him, he's staring at you, but he seems to have drifted somewhere else, deep in his memories.

"That's what you'll do to me", you add, trying to ignore the fact that your words might have resonated in him more than you wished for. "You'll use me to gain power, victories or whatever it is that you crave".

"You paint me quite the tyrant", he replies, sharply. "And to think you don't even know me".

"And you don't know me".

"Yet, you assume you know my... cravings".

You might have blushed.

"Fine. That was quite unfair. Those weren't your words, after all. They were the King's".

He stands up, like the only mention of the King has made him restless. Maybe he has ran out of his patience. You are almost going to dismiss yourself, when he stops by the window and speaks again.

"I was wondering if you could show me".

"Show you what?!"

He turns to you. "Your light".

You are almost speechless. "You have seen my light".

"Not really", he answers. "That was me, calling it for you. But tonight is a fine night". He looks out the window again, his shape barely lit. "A perfect, bright full moon".

When he turns, he's looking hopeful. You feel a knot in your throat.

But deep inside, you are inexplicably excited.

You raise your hand, just a few inches above your leg, as you are still sitting down. You can feel the full moon like a limb of your body, and it's easy to let it come to you.

A ticklish, sparkling light emerges from your palm. It moves towards your wrist, flickering, then it slips down on your knuckles.

The Darkling stands frozen at the window frame, like he's suddenly unable to talk, or move, or be anything else than hypnotized by your evanescent, soft moonlight.

Then he approaches you, but slowly, like he's afraid you'll take it away if he comes too close. For a moment, you enjoy the thought of having that kind of power over him.

But reality surpasses your fantasy, as he kneels down in front of you.

You are face to face now, and you get lost in his eyes, darker than the night itself, filled with unsaid promises, and mysteries you can't help but wonder. He doesn't stop looking at you, while he lifts his hand, placing it a few inches above yours.

Darkness comes floating out of his fingers, like black waterpaint, so softly you wouldn't even think of its deadly power. It surrounds your sparkles of moonlight, but instead of suffocating them, it makes them glow even brighter.

It's like a small galaxy has found its place beneath his hand and yours.

It seems he could stay like that forever. And, damn it, you could too.

Instead, you ask, with the faintest whisper: "Am I your prisoner?"

He answers quietly. "You are my guest".

Something breaks inside you. You close your fist, and just like that your moonlight is gone.

His shadows dissipate like smoke from a candle, as you stand up from your chair. "It was a most... instructive evening. I am quite tired, now, and I wish to rest".

He stands up too, and walks you to the door like nothing has happened. You successfully keep the same blank face, ignoring the weird heartache that's tearing you apart.

"Goodnight".

And so you are back to reality. Back to the beautiful room that might be a prison, if you decide it is one. The window next to your bed gives you the best view on the night sky, and you wonder if that's why you were given that room in the first place.

The moon reminds and remembers. It is never gone, it only hides. Whatever happened tonight, it won't be gone tomorrow. You extend your arms above you and let the light come back to you, just because it feels good, and ask yourself if he ever does the same with his shadows.

Hi everybody. I hope you are enjoying this story so far. Please remember English is not my first language, and that I'm writing purely for fun. If you appreciate my work, please like, repost or leave a comment. You'll make my day! See you next.

Taglist @budugu

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unabashednightmarepizza · 9 months

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The idea of writing healer!moon summoner!reader with Kanej... GET OUT!

I was happy with my little bubble of Harry Potter, where the fuck did Shadow and Bone come from and completely took over my brain?

#shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #darkling imagine #darkling x reader #the darkling #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x inej ghafa #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #inej ghafa #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa imagine

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jacktoria4ever · 1 year

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No but imagine

Laying on aleksander's chest while he sleeps so incredibly peacefully and you're just barely awake and you hear a knock on the door to your shared bedroom and it wakes him up and now you're angry because he was so adorable and sleepy when he was passed out but someone HAD to wake him up and now he is confused as to why you're pissed and so you have to explain that you enjoyed seeing him so peaceful and comfortable in your presence.

I wish this was real.

#aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #darkling imagine #general kirigan #General kirigan headcanons #IM IN LOVE #Adorable #ben barnes imagine

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thewriterthatghostedyou · 1 year

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Shadows and Scars

Chapter 26

Two chapters in two days?!?! I’m as surprised as you are. I forgot how fun it was to write this series, and hopefully I’ll get more time to write during break. I hope you enjoy this chapter! I know I’m enjoying where this story is going. 😉

Enjoy!

Trigger warnings: it’s an interrogation and death so there’s that, attempted kidnapping?/ non con? It’s a few men being grabby, and death and violence.

Never beta read so all mistakes are my own, and formatted on my phone so hopefully the formatting isn’t screwed up.

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

Aleksander’s POV

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

“Have they talked?” He asked, evenly, striding into the dungeons.

“A lot of lies. But Volkov hasn’t said a word. Ivan’s with them.” Zoya responded.

The two men were both chained to heavy wooden chairs in the middle of the large room. The shooter seems to look exhausted, sweat clinging to his whole body and head hunched over. Volkov, on the other hand, was just smiling maniacally.

“I’ve been swindled. Hoodwinked.” The shooter pleaded. Volkov snorted and shook his head at that.

“My guards told me that they caught you fleeing the scene of the crime.” He accused.

“Yes, I followed them.” He turned his head to look at the man next to him. “All of them, but-“

“Followed whom?” His voice dropped lower.

“Him, and these people. They come from the other side of the fold. From the start, they seemed, just a bit off to me, so when they left our stage at the fete, I followed them to see what they were up to.” He breathed heavily to catch his breath. “And at the time that I walked into that room, they were gone and…” He huffed a nervous laugh. “Saints, it was unspeakable. So- so I ran-“

“How much of that is true?” He demanded, making eye contact with Ivan.

“He did cross the fold with the others. The rest were lies.” Ivan said as he gave a menacing stare to the shooter.

“What?” The shooter squirmed in his seat nervously. “That’s- No-“

“Your heart gives you away.” Volkov said from next to him. Watching the entire scene with subdued interest.

Aleksander stiffened at the sound of his voice. This is the man you thought was so important? So admirable? He’d deal with him later.

“Do you know we keep records of everyone who crosses the fold?” He said evenly.

The man in the seat opened his mouth to talk, but Aleksander spoke over him. “For the winter fete, we had ambassadors from Kerch, Novyi Zem, the Wandering Isle, but you didn’t pass with them, did you? No. You and your crew, you have another way.” He spat the word crew out venomously.

“I don’t know what you mean. I-“ The man stuttered.

“He does.” Ivan said simply.

“I’m an entertainer!” The man shouted desperately. “Oskar. Oskar Krepkov.”

He didn’t even need to look at Ivan to know the man was lying. It was a trick he had plenty of time to master over the centuries.

With one smooth movement, he strode over and ripped up the sleeve of the man’s shirt. There on his shaking wrist were fifteen tally marks.

“Well.” He said slowly. “This is certainly entertaining. You are the conductor.” He moved his face closer to the conductor’s as he spoke. “Arken Visser, are you not?” His voice became dangerously low as gripped his wrist tighter before shoving himself off of him.

“You smuggle Grisha out of MY PALACE!” He whipped around and yelled at him. “You help them abandon the war effort.”

Arlen’s face grew serious as he dropped his act. “No. I deal in legal indentures, I don’t mess with Grisha.”

“Lie.” Ivan said lazily.

“I don’t need him to tell me.” He spoke mockingly. “I had a spy. Nina Zenik. Ring any bells?”

Arken’s face morphed into an angry scowl. “Nina?”

“Last report we had from her was that she’d be crossing the Fold with the conductor and three rogues from Ketterdam.”

Arken’s face fell as he knew there was no way to talk himself out of this.

“What their mission was, she didn’t know. She was waiting to meet you all. Now poor Nina.. has not been heard from since. Might that have something to do with you, Mr. Visser?”

“No.” He breathed out instantly. “I don’t!” He looked at Ivan to confirm what he had said, which he did with a small shrug.

“See? I don’t know what happened.”

“My guess,” Aleksander started. “You struck a deal with these three thieves to kidnap Alina Starkov. But..” he leaned towards him slowly. “You have a stronger relationship with a certain West Ravkan general who has notions of ruling his own country.” With a small tap on Ivan’s shoulder, the man walked away quickly and Zoya followed without hesitation.

“So long as the fold separates him from us. So you made another deal. You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin.”

“That’s right.” Arken said lowly. “The prize to bring her back to Ketterdam was a million, split four ways. But Zlatan offered me the same number.. to kill her. So.. give me half that. I’ll get revenge for you, I can get close to Zlatan.”

“No.” Aleksander said quietly. “I think I’ll handle that myself.” And with one smooth flick of his hands, the shadows that inhabited the dank cellar began to move and slithered towards him. He begged for his life of course. They always did, but that never changed the outcome.

Aleksander watched with a sick satisfaction as they crawled onto the man like snakes and began to force their way in his mouth and ears.

“Now. Mr. Volkov.” He spoke loudly over the sound of Arken gagged and choking on the shadows that went deeper and deeper into his throat and head. “I believe we have much to talk about.”

—————

Y/n’s POV

—————

“So are we just going to ignore the light seeping out of the trunk or…” Jesper gave a weird face as the four of you watched light spill through the locked trunk.

Kaz just rolled his eyes at him as a slight click was heard.

You all held your breath as the trunk cover slowly lifted and Alina climbed out quickly.

Jesper reached for his gun, but Alina wasn’t paying attention to him. Her eyes seemed you out, worry etched on her face as she took you in.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Jesper placatingly held out his free hand.

“Neither do I, so we’ll just be on our way. Y/n get behind me.” She whispered seriously.

“Let’s just all calm down-“ You were interrupted by the sound of Kaz’s cane hitting the carriage to block her escape.

“Clearly you both want out of East Ravka.” Jesper and the two others stayed still as Alina slowly stepped in front of you. “But we can help you.”

Inej nodded enthusiastically as Hesper continued. “We have a secure route through the Fold.”

“We’re fine. We prefer to travel alone.” Alina gave you another worried look before turning back to face the crows.

“Y/n you know Ruslan trusted us, you can too.” Jesper pleaded, turning his attention to you.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed sadly. “I can’t get caught again. I can’t go back there, neither of us can.” Your cane brushed against your leg as you gripped it tightly with both hands. “You need to let us go.”

“Don’t be rash, if you stick with us, everybody gets what they want.”

“We are not being anyone’s captive ever again.” Alina hissed out. “So step aside and let us pass.”

“I’m afraid we can’t let that happen.” Kaz finally spoke up, glaring at Alina in what seemed to be his usual fashion.

Before you could move, a burst of light flashed from Alina’s hands into Jesper, blinding him and Kaz. As the light disappeared, you noticed Inej covering her eyes before looking at Alina with reverence and holding her hands up in surrender.

“Let’s go.” Alina said, grabbing your arm and dragging you away from the carriage.

“Shit!” Your leg wobbled, unused to being without your brace as you hopped to catch up to her pace. “Alina I can’t run.” You heaved out, gritting your teeth in pain as the two of you ducked into an open alleyway.

“What do you mean? Where’s your brace?” She frantically whispered.

“It’s too noticeable.” You breathed heavily, as Alina stuck her head out of the alley and looked for the crows.

“We need to go. Now.” She whispered urgently. Taking you by the arms again, gentler than before. “Walk as fast as you can.” She led you out of the street and your eyes brightened as you noticed a stall selling cloaks.

“Wait.” Your coins dangled in your pocket as you hurriedly pulled them out and slammed them on the table. “We’ll take two of the black ones.” Alina gave you a small smile as she grabbed what you had paid for and wrapped one of the heavy cloaks around your shoulders.

“Good thinking.”

You discreetly pointed out Jesper ahead of the two of you, before taking her down another street corner. “This way.”

“Are you ok?” Alina blurted out.

You shrugged as the two of you continued slowly towards the outskirts of the town.

“I’ve been better. I’m not sure that treason is a good look on me.” You joked, huffing out a grunt of pain and trying to disguise it as a laugh.

“Why did you run?” Alina asked, securing her own cloak on and pulling up the hood.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you Alina.” You said softly. “I’m not just part of the General’s guard.” You paused as the two of you stopped when your breathing became too labored.

You squeezed your eyes shut before continuing. “I’m his whore.” You said sadly, trying to ignore Alina’s look of betrayal.

“I don’t know what he did to me, or why me, but somehow he can control my body and-“ You blinked away tears as you continued. “But that’s not the point. He has plans for you. And knowing him they can’t be good, I wanted to look for you, but I needed to get out. To be able to think clearly without him pulling the strings.”

“Is he?” Alina’s eyes widened as she backed away from you. “Is he still pulling the strings?”

You shook your head frantically as you noticed a small tear fall down her cheek. “No. I can’t feel him. Not anymore. Baghra said that the further I am from him the more control I have.”

“Please.” You begged, grabbing her hands tightly. “We need to go. If he finds us…” Your mind didn’t even want to finish the sentence as Alina nodded. Part of you knew he could have been good to you. But that part was the one that became complacent. That fell to his influence. That forgot what kind of a man he really was. What he had done to Anya. To Ruslan.

“Y/n.” Alina cupped your face with her hand and you blinked in surprise at the sudden warmth. “I won’t let him get us.” You briefly noted that her pupils dilated as she looked at you and you blushed at your close proximity. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

The two of you were shocked back into your surroundings as a man hobbled slowly towards your alcove and puked on the side of the street.

“Hey! Hey you!” He shouted, pointing to Alina. “So far from Shu Han, aren’t you?”

“We should go.” You said, forcing out a fake smile at the man before turning to head down the street.

You froze as the First army man grabbed Alina by the wrist and spun her back to face him. “Why don’t you come inside? You can bring your friend too.” He leered at her before dragging her towards the door.

Without thinking, you swung your wooden cane at his leg, as Alina punched him in the jaw.

“Hurry!” You caught yourself from saying her name as you gripped your cane like a bat as two more First army soldiers came to their friend’s defense.

Your eyes widened as one of them shoved Alina into the wall and tried to hit her head on the hard surface.

“She’s got some fight in her yeah?” The other man laughed at you as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “We’ll at least you can’t run away.” He pulled up his trousers with a lazy smile before quickly lunging at you.

“Leave us alone!” You shouted, swinging at him with your cane, but missing as he jumped back to dodge it.

“I’m going to have fun watching you try to crawl away when I-“ You saw red as a bird launched itself at the man’s head, knocking him back with more force than you thought was possible for such a small thing.

He hit the ground with a dull thud as the man you attacked Alina screamed in agony as she shined her light into his eyes.

“Stop! After them!”

“Saints. We need to get out of this town now.” You said, grabbing Alina’s warm hands and letting her pull you away from the scene.

Perhaps if you had stopped to actually look at the bird that laid next to your attacker's head, you’d have noticed the sizable bullet hole through its eye.

#fanfic #reader insert #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling #darkling #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #the darkling x you #grishaverse #darkling imagine

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mxacegrey · 2 years

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Away | Gone part 2

Pairing: The Darkling x GN! Reader & Nikolai Lanstov x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: The Darkling, threats of violence, hints of past emotional manipulation, victim blaming and gaslighting

Summary: After your 'disappearance', the Darkling shows up at your door. Only returning is the last thing on your mind. | Part 2 to this

@watersquirtpewpewboomm @stickyfictioninwriting

A/N: It’s been over a month and over a lot of thought, I finally have a part 2 to Gone! Enjoy!

“Aleksander?” You asked, as you opened the door.

“Y/N.” Came the swift reply from the man himself. “Can I come in?”

Without waiting for your reply, he stepped inside, glancing at the room you were in. His eyes caught sight of books over all surfaces, your dual swords being sharpened on the table before you.

“What is someone like you doing here?” The Darkling asked.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, turning your head at him offended.

“I simply meant that your presence is needed in the Little Palace. Your role there is highly important.” The Darkling looked at you, trying to appeal to your better nature.

“How exactly, General?” You scoffed, turning your back to him as you walked away. “You have more than enough heartrenders in the Little Palace and more than enough guards in the Oprichniki.”

“My love. You don’t need to be in this... slum.“ The Darkling explained, his voice taking a pleading tone.

“You know... Despite being away from Ravka, we hear whispers. Whispers of the fold expansion, Santka Alina... and you.” Your voice took a lighter tone, your hand moving towards the hilt of the sword hidden on your hip.

“Me?” The Darkling laughed, stopping as your sword touched his neck and his mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Rule 1: Don’t underestimate your opponent. Even friend can turn foe.” Your voice turned cold, your hand not wavering.

“Darling? What are you doing? You know me.” The Darkling asked, his voice taking a slightly scolding tone.

“The Black Heretic.” You stated, causing his smirk to drop and your own to grow. “You know... After years of being under your thumb and trapped in Ravka, I’m free.”

“You are Grisha. You are here as part of the Second Army. I control you.” The Darkling snarled, taking a step forward causing you to push your sword against his neck even harder.

“Expect... There is no second army stationed here.” You chuckled. “They all disappeared.“

“What?” He whispered. The door behind you opened and a golden blond figure walked in.

“Y/N/N. What is - going on?” The figure asked before taking the scene before him in.

“Nikolai, look what appeared on my doorstep.” You smiled as the second prince of Ravka moved to stand next to you. His hand touched your shoulder as he leaned into you chuckling.

“My dear....” The Darkling tried to speak, looking at you with feigned softness.

“Does he know?” Nikolai asked, his smirk growing as his hazel eyes darkened at the sight of the Darkling at your mercy.

“Which bit?” You asked, despite knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“The part where you are holding his mind hostage...” Nikolai explained, causing the Darkling to look at you in alarm.

“Y/N. Sweetheart. The rule was you were never to use your abilities against me...” The Darkling smiled fakely as your laughter rang through the air.

“Vive la résistance.” You and Nikolai stated in unison before your free hand twisted. The Darkling dropped to the floor in agony and you kneeled next to his pained body. “You will leave here and forget everything about me. I no longer exist. Your priority is the Santka Alina and retrieving the amplifiers.“

As you spoke, your hand twisted towards his mind before his eyes went a faded green and his body unwillingly left through the front door. You and Nikolai watched with sick pleasure as the Darkling’s body shook with pain before he stood and walked away like nothing had happened.

“It’s our resistance.”

#the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan x you #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morovoza #general kirigan #the darkling #x reader #darkling imagine #platonic nikolai lanstov x reader

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lupinsfavslytherin · 2 years

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General Kirigan x Jealous (Fem) Reader Part 1 (Fluff)

Before I get into this I just wanna say a whole ass thank you to everyone that reads my content and likes, because it really boosts my spirit and makes me wanna keep writing, even with my roller-coaster mental health ride. I originally wrote this because really sad and I just wanted a hug, at the time. But I'm feeling better, so i thought "hey! I finally have something written that i can post." "Why not just post it?" So here I am in all my general-loving glory! So there's probably some sketchy writing, but im too tired to fix it, right now! Enjoy!

Imagine:

Basically when Alina first finds him in the war room, you become jealous of her and think that there's something going on between them. Turns really fluffy in end. Might post a part 2? Also reader supposedly a "book nerd", as well!(FLUFF) (Possible SMUT in part 2)

Part 1:

You were supposed to meet General Kirigan right after dinner and discuss your sister, Nina’s location. You think she’s been missing because she hasn't sent any post for a while. During dinner Aleksander, the general, wasn’t present. But, the new sun-summoner was. You were a little skeptical about her at first, but she quickly warmed up to you, after you two, began a friendship through reading books together, in the large library of the little palace. You both didn’t talk much though, but it was okay. The quiet peace of the library was all you two needed.

Often, General Kirigan would ask for some of her time before her lessons. He was quite surprised to find you reading in there with Alina, as well. He’d say pleasantries to you, before going to speak with her. The last week has been different though. He’d been snappier about everything. Especially when it came to Alina. You don’t know why, but you were jealous of the attention he was giving her.

After a quiet dinner, on your part, you went to your bunk. You changed out of your dressy outfit, and into softer and lighter clothing. You also returned a book to the library, grabbing a few more. It was an addiction you had. Finally, you started heading to find the general. It didn’t take long; he was usually in the war room. Walking up to it’s door you heard another voice. Alina. She said Aleksander wasn’t alone, and a bright flash happened.

You peaked into the room noticing them holding hands. It looked like a very intimate moment, but he then put his hand and wrapped her cheek in it. You don’t know why, but you had to look away as your heart stopped beating for a few seconds. You heard footsteps closer to you from inside, so you knocked on the door. Alina opened the door, and you greeted her with a simple nod, not trusting your voice just yet. Looking past her you saw something like pain crossing the general’s features. He noticed you, and quickly a stoic expression was plastered on his face, but you could still see a sadness in his eyes, as Alina left.

General Kirigan was quick to start a conversation, asking why you wanted to meet him. Clearing your throat, you replied saying that you were worried. About Nina. How she hasn’t been heard from longer than usual. His eyes softened a bit, as he nodded in confrontation. Aleksander said he would handle the matters, and that most probably she was just hiding. This comforted you, more than he thought. You thanked him, and slightly turned, but didn’t leave just yet. You wanted to know how he was fairing. Aside from being a griesha, you two were here the longest than any other. You used to be great friends until he was offered the role of being General.

You looked up at his face for a second, asking how he was fairing through with everything going on. Offering comfort, like you used to do for one another. He said he was well, but you could see right through him. You knew how hurt Aleksander was with our own people turning on us and the griesha, like before. Your brows furrowed in these thoughts, and he noticed as he took a step closer to you.

Aleksander was glad you weren’t assigned to any permanent mission yet, as he didn’t want to see you hurt, or worse. You saw a cut on his arm, and offered to heal it for him. Before he could answer you did so, anyway. He smirked down at you, remembering how you did the same thing when you two trained together.

He would have been angry if it had been anyone else, saying they were insolent. But it was just you. You. The person that’s always had his back, no matter where you were. You were always learning new healing methods in the library, to no surprise to him. He was surprised by his thoughts, feeling you hug him. Your shorter stature only allowed you to wrap your arms around his torso, and your head was pressed on his chest. You heard his heartbeat quicken a little before it calmed back down.

He slunk down and laid his head on top of yours, wrapping his own arms around your small fame. You felt the calmest you ever had, being able to know he was okay. Aleksander wouldn’t say anything about it, but felt a large pressure lift off of him at that moment. Squeezing you tighter, the general felt safe from judgement and criticism. He lifted his head up, as you slowly pulled away. You didn’t want to, you felt protected in that moment.

#shadow and bone #netflix #fanfiction #fanfic #general kirigan #the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #fluffy darkling #darkling imagine #fluff and feels #fluff imagine #comfort #aleksander x reader #ben barnes #ben barnes fluff #ben barnes fanfiction

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 2 years

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With Fire and Blood, and the Darkness in Between

Darkling/General Kirigan/Aleksander Morozova x Targaryen!Reader

Part 2

Shadow and Bone and Game of Thrones crossover

Part 1

A/N: Part 2 is finally here lovelies! Just wanted to provide some backstory for the character before she meets General Kirigan in the next chapter. I hope y’all enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated, I love hearing you guys’ thoughts! 💜💜💜

Summary: Imagine being the youngest Targaryen and the half-sister of Daenerys. You had lived most of your life in captivity, shut off from the world after your brother Viserys married you off to an old lord at the age of 12 as means to get rid of you for being a half-breed. You used to be a bright and free-spirited child who saw nothing but the goodness in those around you, but the experiences you faced made you grow cold and distant with a lack of remorse for the wicked. Not wanting to live the life your brother had chained you to, you ran away and finally reunited with your sister and helped her win back the throne. (Season 8 never happened) Wanting to build a life of your own, you set sail across the seas with your dragons and army, traveling far and wide before venturing into foreign land in a place called Ravka where you stumble upon a kingdom with a king who you loathe, believing him undeserving of rule. During your stay there, you cross paths with a certain raven-haired general with aspirations of his own. Will you stand alongside him in his mission, or will you take the throne for your own and rule as Y/N Targaryen, the Dragon Witch Queen of Ravka?

Warnings: vulgar language, mentions of rape and abuse and suicide, mentions of abuse against a minor, mentions of incestuous themes, violence and gore, sexual themes. This series will have some dark themes so please read at your own risk.

Notes: slow burn, angst, enemies to lovers trope. Flashbacks are in italics. Current time is in normal font.

Day had turned to night, and all the light that remained of the rays of the sun touching upon the earth, had disappeared into blackness like the life you just left behind. You had remained by Ser Bjorn Maurinus's side that entire evening, seated on one of the wooden crates as you stared out into the pitch black depths of the sea that not even the moon itself was able to cast it's light upon.

Your hands were tucked into the pocket of your dress, the wool fiber of the fabric irritating the softness of your pampered skin as your fingers played with the glass vial that Sir Bjorn had given you. Contemplating the event that was ever so quickly dawning near, you had half a mind to throw yourself into the ocean and let the obsidian waters consume every last ounce of your very being. And though you so desperately longed for those cold hands of death to wrap it’s claw like fingers around your heart and tear it out, your thoughts only ever returned to your sister who would only be waiting your return until death itself stood in front of her.

You had attempted to strike a conversation with the forbidding Braavosi whose resemblance you found to be similar to a hawk, but your words only fell on deaf ears, for the man had not uttered a single response in your direction, his expression as stony as the last. And so you sat in silence, shivering against the cold ocean breeze that felt like daggers across your cheek, with nothing but the furs of your cloak and the howling of the wind to keep you company.

"M'lady." you heard a gruff, slightly slurred voice from behind you, turning around to see that one of Lord Pythias's men had approached you, a small lantern held in his grimy hand and a piece of dried beef in the other. The small yellow flame kept within the lantern illuminated parts of his face in almost a ghoulish manner, darkening every line and indentations that marked his skin. His face and overall appearance was poorly kept, as was with many of the sailors and the men aboard this ship. His hair, like sticks of straw, thinned at his scalp before dropping down to his shoulders in a knotted mess, and his clothes hung loosely about his frail body as if they recently belonged to someone of a much larger size. His beady, yellowed eyes roamed your tiny frame as he chewed on the piece of meat like a dog would on a bone, flashing his blackened rotted teeth and his swollen gums which you had noticed as signs of scurvy from the books you came across from your days spent in the library back home. "Lord Pythias demands your presence."

You twisted your lips at the sight, clutching your cloak closer to you from his gaze before quickly searching to Ser Bjorn for any kind of support in the matter, but the man only looked ahead at the darkness of the sea that mirrored his dark eyes. "Alright." You nodded, refusing to meet the sailor's eyes, making sure to steer clear of him as you made your way over to the chambers of his lord while your mind remained ever so focused on the vial in your pocket. The ship swayed amongst the waves beneath your feet as you maintained your balance, but the prying eyes and snickers of the men around you made you cower, wanting to fall right through the wooden boards beneath you.

The world seemed to close in around you as you brought your hand up the door that separated you and your unworthy husband, the very thing that would soon dictate how tonight and the rest of your days would end as you shut your eyes in a small prayer to the gods. You had never thought yourself to be a religious person, but in this moment where it seemed as if the whole world was waiting to devour you whole, you plucked out whatever faith you had left in you, begging the gods to your aid before rapping your knuckles lightly against the slab of wood. "May I come in?"

"You may."

The room was dull and lifeless as you entered, lit only by a few candles that somehow seemed to darken the area despite its purpose, as if it were sending you a warning about the dangers you would soon face. You could not help but scrunch your nose in disgust at the dampness of the air once you stepped in and closed the door behind you; the smell of sweat and mold reeking heavily about. Lord Pythias was stationed at the foot of his bed, finishing away his plate of bread and dried meat, wearing nothing but a cotton tunic and his trousers. Twisting your lips at his mannerisms, from the crumbs falling from his mouth and bouncing off his big belly before falling at his exposed and hairy feet, to the sound of the smacking of his lips that echoed across the room convinced your ears to want to tear themselves from your head.

Lord Pythias gave you a once over, licking off his sausage-like fingers before beckoning you over with his grubby hand. “Come here.”

You hesitated, your nails digging into the skin on your palms as you compelled your legs to move from their stubborn place despite no matter how much you wanted to run in the opposite direction away from him. Slowly, you made your way over to the man, your each step seemingly smaller than the last while your eyes remained glued to the wooden floor. Your footsteps resonated in the chamber until his hand landed a heavy strike to your cheek, catching you completely off guard as the sound echoed through the silence of the room.

“You will answer me with m’lord. Is that clear?”

The burning left over by the strike of his hand spread through your face as you stared at the floor for a moment, frozen in shock with your hand pressed to your stinging cheek. You could have sworn your nails were going to tear through the skin of your palm as you forced yourself to look up at him with misty eyes masked by the rage behind them, your voice small though every inch of your skin burned with the urge to slit his throat. “Yes….my lord. Forgive me my lord.”

“Now fetch me a glass of ale there on the table.” The man let out a loud and heavy burp before setting the plate aside and wiping his hands off at the front of his tunic, his hands leaving stained streaks of yellow from the oil that coated them as his bulging eyes watched you hungrily as you walked away. “And when you’re through with that. I want you to undress yourself.”

“.......Yes my lord.” You muttered in response with your back facing him as you wiped away the hot tear that fell down your cheek. Your hands shook as you uncorked the warm bottle of ale, pouring the amber colored liquid into his goblet and remembering what Ser Bjorn had told you at your wedding feast. Just a single drop. Slowly, you ever so slightly turned your head to make sure he wasn’t looking in your direction. Seeing that he was currently preoccupied with undressing himself, you slipped your hand into your pocket, pulling out the small glass vial and staring into the slightly tinted liquid, your eyes distant with the thoughts that filled them. Damn you Viserys, damn you and your ambitions.

You found yourself wanting nothing more than to return home, even preferring to be in the presence of your brother than here with this vile old man. At least back home, you had your sister. Here, you had no one, not a single soul. You were alone, a Targaryen alone in the world. Popping open the cork, you let a single drop fall into the cup before returning it to your pocket, watching the potion ripple out like the clouds of an oncoming storm. Swirling the contents of the goblet in your hands and watching the potion disappear into the drink, you headed back to where Pythias sat on the bed, disgusted and terrified with his naked appearance. After all, you had never seen a man unclothed before, nor was it something that you wanted to see in the first place. With trembling hands that thankfully went unnoticed, you handed him his goblet, watching the man lift the cup to his lips.

Lord Pythias tilted his head back, downing the drink in one go. And as you expected it to soon be over, that you would be able to taste just the smallest amount of your short-lived freedom, your heart skipped a beat as he grabbed your wrist roughly, yanking you closer to him. "I thought I gave you an order, little bitch."

“P-please.” Tears once again formed in your eyes as you tried to twist out of his hold, but his large clammy hand only grew tighter around your delicate wrist, his rough fingers like sandpaper against your skin while his other hand seized the fabric of your dress in an attempt to tear it off.

Thump! Ba-thump!

Came the sound within the confines of your mind, repeating against the violent throbbing in your head.

Thump! Ba-thump!

You could not tell if it was the chamber door or the beating of your own heart that enfolded your senses as the terror within you only increased. Your heart pounded rapidly by the minute, growing steadily against the silence around you. Trapped between your panic-stricken fear and the strength of the man more than twice your size, there came this sharp pain that felt as if a thousand needles had pierced through your ribcage, as if your own heart were to burst through it’s cage. Your skin dropped in temperature, loosing all warmth as you began to tremble.

You were beyond terrified, unsure of if you would scream or vomit at the situation at hand between the spiked drink and his nakedness and the fact that he was still conscious. In fact, you tried to scream, but not a single sound escaped the hollowness in you. Even if you did, who could have heard you or would even come to your rescue. No one. And that fact alone filled you with dread. You began to fear the potency of the potion that Ser Bjorn had given you, wondering whether it would do what was promised in order to protect yourself from this man before you. You were frightened of what would happen if it did not work, of what were to happen to you. What if it were a test? What if there was nothing in that vial in the first place and that this was all just a test of your loyalty to your new lord?

But your hopes were soon granted, for as you stood, you watched Lord Pythias sway in his seated position, slurring out something incomprehensible as his eyes slowly shut before his large body fell back on the bed in a deep sleep. A breath that you had kept in this whole time was finally released from your lips in a trembled silent cry as you stepped back from the bed with staggering steps, your eyes glued to the sleeping form of the man who was just a second away from assaulting you.

A small glint against the candlelight had caught your attention, and as you turned towards it, you found Lord Pythias's small knife sitting almost invitingly upon the table. You gazed upon the blade in a tranced state as if it were calling out to you, beckoning you to it. Your mind jumped to complete desperation as you returned your attention to the sleeping form of Lord Pythias, listening to his snores rumbling through the emptiness of his chamber. Refusing to leave your eyes off him in fear that he would stir from his state of unconsciousness, you closed your fingers around the handle of the knife and clutched it tightly in your sweaty palms. Your breaths heaved in your chest as you neared him with the blade raised above you, the room seeming to darken around you until a hand covered itself over your mouth.

Your eyes widened at the contact, feeling an arm wrap around your midsection as you tried to scream, but your voice was only muffled as the intruder yanked the knife from your hands and set it back on the table before lifting you up and carrying you out from the chamber. You thrashed violently against the individual, your arms flailing about as you tried to tear away at him, but your efforts came fruitless as he only held you tighter, dragging you out before taking you away to a darkened corner of the ship. His hands loosened around your torse to toss you to the floor, and as you fell down to your knees, you looked up at your captor to see none other than Ser Bjorn standing above you with a scowl on his thin lips.

"You?" You gasped, bringing yourself up to glare right back at him. "What was that for?"

"Have you lost your mind GIRL?" Ser Bjorn bent over to hiss at you, grabbing you roughly by your arm and pulling you further into the darkness, away from the prying eyes of the immoral men that lurked about the ship. "What in the seven hells did you think you were doing?!"

"I was trying to kill him." You scowled.

"With what?" Ser Bjorn let go of your arm with a scoff, straightening up his tall frame as he did so. "A dinner knife? Has the girl even held a blade before?"

"I want him dead!"

"Oh? And what then? What of the rest of the men here hm? You think one dead fuck is going to keep the rest of these cunts from doing anything to you?"

Your lips twisted into a frown, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill as your voice grew quieter, your frame shrinking in the shadows casted by the small lantern hung up on of the posts. "I just........I want to go home. I.....I-want to go home."

"There's no going back now girl.” Ser Bjorn spoke firmly, looking pathetically over your trembling form before ushering you to be quiet as he pulled something out from behind him. "Here, take this."

You glanced down at the item in his hand; a small dagger. You had recognized the simple yet intricate blade at his hip when you first saw him approach your brother at the hall. “But it’s yours.”

"Take it girl." Ser Bjorn exasperated at your hesitation, gritting his teeth as he did so.

You gave the man a quick look, observing his serious expression with distrust before taking the dagger from his hands, pulling the blade out from its sheath to stare at the shine of the sharp metal. "Why?"

"For when the time comes that you may need it. But use it you will not."

"What do you mean? How am I not allowed to use it?"

"The potion you will use daily when necessary."

"But that doesn’t make any sense-“

"You will do as I have told you. Does the girl understand?"

"But-"

"Does the girl understand? I will not be saying it again." Ser Bjorn glowered down at you, his obsidian eyes boring into your own.

".........Yes." You muttered out with a tight jaw, wondering whyever he would bother to help you despite being of alliance to Lord Pythias and being the cold hearted man that he was.

"Good. Now rest. The journey ahead of us is long." The Braavosi turned his back to you, returning to his speechless state. Not a single ounce of emotion had passed through him during the whole conversation, not even a shrivel of empathy, just as when you had first met him.

Being the stubborn young girl you were, you let out a huff of air, sticking the small dagger into the belt of your dress before finding a spot in the corner where there sat sacks of flour stacked upon the floor. Laying yourself on top of the rough burlap sacks, you brought your knees up to your chest with your back facing Ser Bjorn as he stood watch. You clutched your cloak closer to your small frame to protect yourself against the coldness of the night air that you were not used to, shivering as you shut your eyes and finally released all the anger and all the despair that you had locked within to keep yourself from appearing weak. Your face became wet from your emotions as you curled into a fetal position, using the fabric of your cloak to muffle out your cries as you let the tears of your worries drown you to a deep slumber.

The sun rested high amongst the pale blue sky, nestled between the porcelain clouds like a drop of gold in a field of cotton. It’s rays shined down on the city in streaks of gold as you sat on the grass that covered one of the hills overlooking the sea, watching the ships depart and arrive at the wooden docks of King's Landing. The cool breeze blew against you, blowing back the loose strands of your hair that framed your face from your elaborate braids as you listened to the bells that rang out through the city. You could almost taste the salt of the ocean air upon your tongue from where you sat in the distance, your small leather bound sketchbook spread open on your lap and your stick of sanguine chalk held between your fingers as you tapped the end of the chalk lightly against the parchment.

In the distance, there came the sound of something above you, a flutter of wings about the air and an echo of a screech. And as you looked to the sky, squinting against the sun as you did so, you saw your two dragons drawing near, the large span of their wings blanketing the area in shadow as they soared down to the ocean. You smiled at the sight, watching the siblings play with each other while others stopped to stare and point at the large beasts that were once thought to be extinct. For once, you felt at peace. And yet, the past always seemed to find its way to haunt you. You had been much too preoccupied, your mind focused on your drawings as you failed to notice someone approaching your spot, the heels of their boots crushing the grass beneath them.

"I thought I might find you here."

“Dany.” You turned at the all too familiar voice, seeing your sister with the wind blowing through her silvery blonde locks, a warm smile on her face.

“I was beginning to worry. I had not seen you since dinner last night.”

"I'm sorry.” You set your pencil down, turning to face her as she stood next to you. “I didn’t mean to trouble you. I just....haven't been feeling well. Thought I might come out here and relax my mind for a bit.”

"As long as you're caring for yourself." Daenerys placed her hand on your shoulder as she watched the ships and your two dragons with you before glancing down at your sketches of the wooden vessels and your other sketches of the dragons, admiring the life like details you had put into them. “You’ve gotten better. I remember when you used to draw on the walls until you found your hands on some parchment.”

“Well, I was a little girl then.” You chuckled.

“And look at you now, grown into a beautiful young woman with skills that I could never dream of or accomplish.” Dany looked down at you as she softly stroked your head, running her fingers through the thin silver streak of hair similar to her own that had formed at your front strands, a stark contrast to the rest of your hair. You never really did explain how you got it, that silver streak of hair, except that it just appeared one fateful day.

Her heart swelled at seeing you now, seeing how much you had grown in both spirit and age since she last saw you. And though the two of you were only a year apart, she would do anything to protect you like the older sister she was. You used to be such a soft spoken little girl, one who had always bent to the will of others, one who was constantly pushed around by those stronger than herself. And here you were now, a woman who bent herself to no man and wielded her own sword and survived so much to find your way back to her. A woman who had even led her own battles while fighting her enemies at the forefront. And there was nothing that made Dany happier than to have such a strong and spirited woman as her sister.

"Gods. It's been so long hasn't it." You muttered out in a soft breath, thinking back to the day where you were sold off like cattle by your own brother and torn away from your only sister. "It feels as if it were just a year ago when I set foot on that ship and was shipped off to the north."

"Hm. It has been a long time indeed. But you're here now, with me, and that is all that matters." Daenerys caressed your head lovingly before placing a kiss at the top of your head. "Come, supper should be ready soon."

Wiping off the chalk from your fingers, you closed up your sketchbook with a snap, wrapping the suede string around the leather binding with your chalk tied to it before slipping it into the pocket of your coat dress. Interlocking your arm with your sister, the two of you walked through the small field to return to the castle, making your way to the dining hall.

"The redecorations are coming along nicely." Daenerys spoke up from beside you.

"Thank the gods." You sighed. "Anything but the ghastly décor that Cersei had left. What she had done with the castle walls is blasphemy. The place needs more color, more plants, more…..life. I want to feel at home, not like I’m stuck in prison.”

"Well I’m sure you’ll find the newer decorations to your liking." Daenerys chuckled at the passion behind your eye for the arts.

"I trust your judgement sister." You patted her forearm before facing the path ahead of you, focusing on the stone steps that led up to the castle. And as you lifted your gaze, an enormous smile appeared on your lips as you saw a familiar head of dark curls up ahead that belonged to none other than your dear friend. "Jon!" You left your sister's side to quicken your pace and engulf him in a hug.

"Oof.” Jon grunted against the impact as you almost knocked him over before pulling away to beam down at you. “It's good to see you too y/n."

You twisted your lips in a teasing scowl, punching the man playfully in the chest as if the two of you were children. “Back already I suppose. Where did you leave off to in such a hurry huh? You didn’t even wish me a farewell.”

“Well I had to see my cousins, make sure everything is settled in the North.”

“How are Sansa and Arya and Bran? Are they well?”

“They’re well. They do miss you.”

“You did tell them that I miss them as well, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Jon smirked, “it’d be a crime not to.”

“Alright you two.” Dany smiled at the sight as she stepped up between you both, placing her hands on both your backs. “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

By the time that you had finished your supper and remained on your glasses of wine, mostly everyone had left, leaving just you, Jon, Dany, and a very drunken Tyrion who volunteered to share his delightful stories.

“And I said to him…..” Tyrion slurred out, squinting his eyes and pointing his finger in front of him as if the man he had confronted earlier at the market was standing right before him. “……..and I said to him….”

“Well what did you say to him Lord Tyrion?” You quirked a brow at the man on the opposite side of the dining table as you raised your goblet of wine to your lips, sending an amused look to your sister who sat on the end of the table next to you.

“I’m getting there.” Tyrion wagged his finger at you before returning to his story. “So I said to him……….” He stopped, confused for a brief moment as he turned to you. “Wait, what DID I say to him?”

“I’m afraid I do not know. And I’m afraid we STILL will not know until you tell us Lord Tyrion. So please, enlighten us.” You answered with a smile, eliciting a soft laugh from Jon who sat on the other side of Daenerys, across from you.

“Now don’t get smart with me.” Tyrion rolled his eyes in a teasing manner. “Ahah. I remember now. So…….the man comes up to me…………insults me to my face about my height…….calls me an imp. And I said to him…………listen here you half wit………I may be small………………..but your cock is merely an arms length from my fist, remember that.”

“Oh gods.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your head back as soft laughter broke out at the table before Tyrion went on with another story.

Your thoughts drifted off as you sat at your seat, your face illuminated by the candles on the table as well as the ones of the chandelier above. Your fingers traced along the rim of your silver goblet, your eyes glued to the wine resting motionless inside like a mirror of crimson, it’s deep red liquid bringing you back to your past.

Days had turned to months when you had arrived to the North at Lord Pythias’s manor, a land that was completely foreign to you, a land in which you knew no one except for Ser Bjorn, though the man never spoke much. Each day you spent inside the odious stone walls of the manor was as cold as the next, and each night the same as the last; a glass of ale and a drop of the potion from the vial, and an unconscious Lord Pythias that allowed you to protect yourself from his hands and his immoral intentions.

In the time that you had spent away from the old man, away from everyone, you would stay confined in your room. And at night, when the moon was high and when everyone was asleep, you would sneak off to meet with the Braavosi, who had offered to train you in the art of the dagger. And each weary night you spent training and sparring with him, each night leaving you scraped and bruised, you became more skilled than the last, when at last you were the one to hold the blade to his throat. And in that moment, with you standing over him, the sharp end of your blade pressed to his neck, you could have sworn you saw a hint of a smile on the face of the man who remained ever grim.

But one night; one cold, moonless and windy night had changed everything. You were in your room, dressed in your nightgown while you braided your hair, preparing yourself for bed until you heard someone slam open your door and barge into your room. Startled, you looked through the reflection of your mirror, thinking it was one of the maids when your heart dropped at the sight of Lord Pythias stumbling into the room, more drunk than ever. You did not know what had happened. You gave him the potion, you were sure of it. You could not understand why the effects of the potion did not take place that night. Perhaps he had built an immunity to it, you would never know. But everything that happened next was a blur, like a smear of chalk across one your sketches.

You remembered him pinning you face down on your bed, crushing you beneath his weight as he held your wrists together behind you. You remembered screaming, your face and the mattress soaked with your tears. You remembered his hand pushing up the skirt of your nightgown as he struggled with the button of his pants. And then, as of some strange occurrence, something stopped him before he could do anything. You could not figure out what had spawned within you. Next thing you knew, you were on top of him with his throat slit, the dagger that Ser Bjorn had given you held tightly in your hands, your white nightgown and your skin covered in his blood, soaking the mattress beneath you as you stabbed him, over and over.

What came over you, you had no knowledge of, nor could you remember. You tried to tell yourself that it was purely fear, that you were just a scared young girl of age 12 who protected herself against her attacker. But your reflection in the mirror; your face painted red and the faintest flicker of an ancient flame behind your eyes told you different. And yet, the strangest part of it all, even more so than your very reflection that haunted you to this day, was that the dagger was nowhere within reach, tucked away in the drawer of your desk.

“Lady y/n………..lady y/n.” You heard Tyrion call out to you, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?” You blinked, turning your attention back to the present.

Daenerys had noticed how you had zoned off just a moment ago, recognizing that familiar scrunch towards the middle of your brows and the way your eyes glazed over as you became lost within your own thoughts. You felt her place her hand on top of yours, her fingers sending you a reassuring squeeze, to which you returned a smile that meant you were alright.

“You didn’t…….hiccup….listen to a word I said did you.” Tyrion waved his finger at you, a sly smirk on his lips as he let out another hiccup. “Or is it……………Princess Y/n now, considering…………your sister is……….officially queen.”

“I am whatever you wish to call me, Lord Tyrion.”

“Don’t say that.” Tyrion gave you a stern yet puzzled look. “That……..just gives others an excuse…….to call you nasty names………..something you might not like. So princess……or……..your royal highness it is!”

“I think you’ve had enough wine for tonight, Lord Tyrion.” You chuckled.

“That!” Tyrion started, “…………is entirely true, I will not deny. After all………what kind of a man would I be…………….to deny myself being drunk. To deny something as obvious as being drunk………..is to deny other things.”

“Always the wise man with the wise words.” You gave Tyrion a soft smile.

“That………is also true.” Tyrion started to get off his seat. “Now, if you would as to be so kind………..Princess y/n…..to walk me back to my chambers before I make a further fool of myself.”

“Of course Lord Tyrion.” You smiled, sending Jon and Dany a look that meant you won’t be long as you walked Tyrion back to his chambers, making sure he did not fall over in the process.

By the time that you returned to the dining hall, a slight sway in your step as you held your hand up to stifle a yawn, you walked in on Jon and Daenerys speaking to each other in hushed tones, the two of them halting their conversation upon seeing you enter, their eyes following you as you returned to your seat.

“You two weren’t gossiping about me were you? If so, I’m afraid I don’t have my tea with me.” You teased, a smirk playing on your lips as you sat back down on your chair. You quirked a brow in curiosity as you saw them give each other a look that usually meant that something serious had to be discussed, a look that you had seen often many times before. “I know that look. What is it?”

“There is something you ought to know.” Daenerys spoke up as she looked at you, her manicured fingers lightly drumming against the table as she was unsure of how you were going to react to the news. “Something we have not told you.”

“Oh?” You eyed their expressions carefully as you straightened up in your seat, taking another sip of your wine. “What is the matter?”

“Jon and I……”

“You’re in love, I know.” You interrupted with a smile, holding your hand up before setting it down on the smoothness of the wooden table. “There’s no need to tell me. I’d have to be either blind as a bat or a complete fool to not notice the…longing looks the two of you share. Not to mention the amount of times I have caught the two of you sneaking kisses-“

“Y/n….” Jon cleared his throat, embarrassed with the fact that you had caught the two of them together, not once, but multiple times.

“Jon is a Targaryen.” Daenerys finally spoke.

You froze, staring at Daenerys as if she had uttered the most absurd thing known to man.

Daenerys and Jon watched your face with the utmost observation, their skin turning cold from your lack of response as they waited for something, anything from you, but all they were met with was silence on your end. You had only sat still, unmoving like one of the statues in the garden.

“……….what?” You spoke out in a whisper, your voice almost inaudible as you let out a laugh of uneasiness. “Is this some sort of a jest?” Your eyes traced over the features of your sister, trying to figure out if she was playing some form of a twisted trick or whether either of you had too much wine even though you only drank a cup, but the seriousness of her countenance spoke enough.

“Y/n.” Jon sighed, knowing not only how much it must come as a shock to you, but also how you might feel utterly betrayed by them keeping such a thing from you. “My father was Rhaegar Targaryen, and my mother Lyanna Stark. My real name is Aegon Targaryen.”

Aegon Targaryen. Jon was the son of your eldest half-brother Rhaegar. So the stories you heard were false.

“It…..it can’t be.” You shook your head in disbelief, finding it hard to fathom that Jon, the man whom you have known for years, your close friend, had been your kin this whole time.

“Y/n you know I would never lie to you.” Jon looked at you, knowing how much it pained you to hear of this now as you stared back into his dark eyes.

You let out a laugh, a smile appearing on your face as you were not quite sure how to respond or even feel about the matter. You were shocked more than anything. “You’re……..you’re a Targaryen.”

“I am.” Jon blinked, slightly confused at the brightness of your face. He could not quite figure out how you felt about what had been revealed. Were you…..were you delighted with the news?

“Well that’s good yes? That means Dany and I aren’t the last two remaining Targaryens. When did you find out?”

“During our time in Winterfell.” Daenerys answered, her gaze ever so trained on your face as she watched how your eyes darted in thought.

“Winterfell? You’re……you’re telling me this now?” You let out a scoff as you stood up from your seat, pushing your chair back with a loud skid against the floor as you moved to pace about the room. “Why did you not tell me then?”

“We meant to tell you earlier.” Jon frowned.

“We were afraid of how you would have handled the news.” Daenerys watched you from her seat, her violet eyes following you as you still paced slowly about.

You started to play with the ring on your finger, the pads of your fingertips running over the grooves of the silver band and the gemstone that sat in the center. Your mind was reeling as you tried to piece everything together, from the stories you were told and how many of them turned out to be lies. It all started to make sense, Jon being a Targaryen. Laughing in disbelief, you turned to face them once more, but your face dropped as the sudden realization came to you. That meant Jon was your half-nephew, and Daenerys, oh gods, that made Daenerys his aunt. “Seven hells.” You breathed out, unable to prevent your lips from twisting into revulsion as you pointed between the two of them, knowing fully well that they slept together. “You two……gods……but the two of you……oh I think I’m going to be sick.” You held a hand to your stomach, pressing your other hand to the table to keep you up as you bent over it.

“Come now y/n.” Daenerys scoffed at your reaction. “I admit it came as a shock to me as well. But it’s not like it is anything foreign within our family. After all, our own father married his sister, and our grandparents and ancestors before them. Even I thought I was to marry Viserys when I was a little girl.”

“But Dany, this is wrong.” You exasperated before turning Jon. “Jon, are you not a bit……I don’t know. Does this not disgust you?”

“Y/n, I understand how you might feel about this.” Jon tried to calm you down.

“You’re her nephew! Dany, you’re his aunt! You do understand that don’t you?”

“Now don’t try to act like you’re better.” Dany stood up from her seat, offended by the way you were treating her as if she were suddenly beneath you and that the whole issue was completely out of your own bloodline despite being a Targaryen yourself. “You yourself were married to a Sta-“

“Don’t!” You snapped with a flicker of your eyes, your hands shaking at the mention of your late husband as a frown made its way on your lips. “You really should not have said that.”

“Y/n-“ Jon stood up from his seat, his heart sinking from the reminder of your husband’s death as well as the expression that now settled in the features of your face.

“I…I can’t deal with this right now. I can’t believe you would mention him Dany.” You stood up, your heart tearing apart though you held your chin high, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill.

“Y/n please, let’s sit down and talk about this.” Jon gestured.

“No.” You spoke firmly, your jaw tight. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go clear my head.” Avoiding to meet their eyes and ignoring their calls, you stormed out of the dining hall, leaving a worried Jon and a rather displeased Daenerys.

“Don’t worry.” Jon put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Let her think this through on her own. I’ll go check on her.”

It was not long till you barged into the confines of your chambers, slamming the door behind you with clenched fists as you pressed your back against the wooden door. Your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath that felt like daggers in your lungs as you plopped down at the edge of your bed, burying your head into your hands as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your frame trembled as you became trapped within a whirlwind of emotions that tore themselves at you; from the shock of learning Jon’s true lineage, to the affair between your sister and him, to your sister bringing up your late husband’s name, to being confused about your own marriage. The last two had hit you the hardest, striking a blow against you, especially when it was something you tried so desperately to forget. Learning of Jon’s connection to you made you question the relationship you had with the man you loved and married. And the more you pondered on it, the more you did not know whether to feel horrified or heartbroken.

You wanted to leave, to pack your things and set sail far away from Westeros and disappear from the land that only reminded you of all that you had lost. Your soul yearned to start a new life for yourself, to gather your dragons and live a life free of pain and torment and war. And yet, a small part of you, the Targaryen blood that ran through your veins, desired to gather your army and lay claim to land that has yet to be claimed, to build your own kingdom. You had even begun to pack some of your belongings, your luggage tucked away under your bed to keep out prying eyes that might turn a single utterance of a word into a string of gossip. But more importantly, you were unsure of how to go about telling your sister and Jon that you wanted to go away, to travel to foreign land that one has not seen, without the slightest idea of your return. Nor did you have the heart to tell them.

There was a soft knock upon your wooden door, drawing you out of your thoughts, and as you turned towards it, you saw Jon enter, his face filled with concern at your weeping figure.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.” You turned your head away to hide your glistened face.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You huffed out, wiping away at your tears as you straightened yourself up.

“Well you don’t look fine.” Jon sighed as he took a seat next to you, your bed sinking slightly from the weight. “Look, y/n, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Hmph. Who would have thought you were my nephew this whole time even though you’re older than me.”

“No one. Not even me I suppose.” Jon chuckled softly, his eyes cast downwards. “I’m sorry that Dany brought him up. I’m sure she didn’t mean to.” He apologized, knowing how much it pained you to be reminded of him, especially with how you still blamed yourself to this day for his death.

“I just……..I miss him so much.” You sniffled, not being able to stop the tears that now flowed freely no matter the times you wiped them away. “Gods, I can’t even say his name nor think of him without breaking into tears.”

“You loved him very much, you still do.” Jon smiled, seeing that you still wore the ring that was given to you at your wedding, your actual wedding. “And he loved you. I’m sure if he was here right now he’d tell you just that. He would tell you how proud he is of you, to see how far you’ve come and how strong you were. And being the person that he was, he would brag to the world of it, of how his wife led an entire army and helped win back the throne in her family’s name.”

A small smile formed on your lips at Jon’s words, a smile that held more sorrow than gaiety as you imagined he would have said the same exact thing. “I just…..I wished there was something I could have done, then maybe he would still be here and maybe……” you reflected to the night of your husband’s death as your hand moved over to place itself at your stomach, your fingers grazing over the groove of the scar hidden underneath the fabric of your dress.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself.” Jon comforted you, placing an arm around you as you leaned into him, wetting the fabric of his coat with your tears as you cried onto his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”

As the two of you sat there for a moment, mourning the memory of the man who was not only your husband but also someone that Jon himself had shared a strong bond with, your thoughts began to once again drift off to the past, of the day that you first met the man you would grow to love.

The night of Lord Pythias’s death, Ser Bjorn had arrived swiftly to your chamber with his sword in hand upon hearing the sound of your screams as he feared for the worst, but what he came across was not quite what he had expected. His face remained still as he unraveled the scene before him; Lord Pythias lying dead on your bed with his throat slit as multiple stab wounds lined his chest. And then there was you, huddled up in the corner covered in his blood, your face expressionless and the dagger that the Braavosi had given you held tightly in your hands, and the hint of a flickering of a flame behind your hollow eyes. And in that moment, that is when Ser Bjorn knew.

You looked up from your dazed state, seeing Ser Bjorn stand over you with your cloak and a bundle of clothes in his hands as you suddenly remembered the dead lord on your bed, thinking you were going to get executed for your crime. “Ser Bjorn. I’m sorry I-“

“Quiet.” He threw the clothes down at you, keeping an eye on your door in case any of Lord Pythias’s men decided to show as he handed you a rag. “Wipe your face and put these on. Quick.”

“But these are boys clothes.” You looked at the dark muddy colored wool tunic and pants with skepticism, not really understanding what the Braavosi had in mind.

“Do as I say GIRL.”

You wanted to ask the Braavosi what he was getting at, to understand just exactly what plan had formed in his mind as he carefully went over to your door to scan the hallways. But you decided against it, thinking twice about asking any questions at a time as threatening as this.

With your brows etched in dread, you threw the clothes on top of your nightgown, lacing up your boots before tying the leather belt around your waist and sticking your dagger in it, making sure to wipe your face with the rag to the best of your abilities while Ser Bjorn kept a lookout.

“Hold still.” The man ordered as he turned you around, using a knife to cut off your braid as your felt your hair fell down to your face.

With widened eyes, you reached a hand back, feeling your hair now end at your jaw instead of your lower back before glancing at your reflection. It was now that you realized what Ser Bjorn had in mind, a plan to disguise you as a boy in order for you to escape with your life.

“Now listen carefully girl.” The man turned you around, placing his hands on your shoulders as he did so. “You’re going to head farther up North until you reach the walls of Winterfell. There you will meet a man of the name Ned Stark. Tell him I sent you. Stay on your feet and DO NOT turn back.”

“But what about you?” You frowned, tears of fear forming in your eyes as you stared into the dark eyes of the man before you, the eyes of a man whom you might not see again.

“Do not worry about me. I taught you to use the dagger, now use it. Remember girl, valar morghulis.”

“Valar dohaeris.”

Ser Bjorn gave you a push towards the door. “Now go.”

“But-“ Your lip quivered as you became overwhelmed with fright, the fear of once again being left out on your own settling within your bones like a disease.

“Go!”

Giving Ser Bjorn one last look, you ran out from your chambers, making sure to lower your head as you hurried through the hallways and out the building, leaving the warmth of the fireplace that was in your room and being faced with the cold wintery air of the North. You did not know how far or how long you ran, but all you could remember was the ache in your legs, the pounding of your heart and the adrenaline that rushed through your veins as you kept moving, running through the woods in the middle of the darkness that belonged to the night, the branches of the trees slicing across your face until you no longer set foot in Lord Pythias’s land.

Night had turned to day, and all the energy and strength that flowed through you when you left the manor had now diminished, leaving you exhausted and begging for rest. But no matter how much your eyes drooped, or how much you wanted to collapse on the dirt beneath you, you remembered Ser Bjorn’s words. ‘Stay on your feet and do not turn back’. And so you did as much as your feet allowed you to. You began to worry on what could have happened to the Braavosi since you left, praying to the gods to keep him safe and that you would soon meet again. And as you trudged along, your boots and the hem of your cloak caked in mud, your face showing signs of weariness and your lips chapped from the lack of water, you heard the snap of a twig behind you. Turning around, you saw three older men approach you from the distance, their appearance as unkept as the dirt beneath their feet.

“Well what have we here?” One of them smiled, flashing his poorly kept teeth. “What are ye doing out here boy?”

“Ya think he’s one of the Stark boys?” The other man nodded in your direction as he gave you a once over.

Stark boys? That must have meant that Winterfell was near.

“Are you a Stark, boy?” The first one spoke, eyeing the clothes on your back before becoming irritated from your lack of a response. “You deaf, boy? Or just mute”

“He don’t look like a Stark.” The third of the group shook his head, his eyes roaming your person as to search for any signs of coin or wealth. “You got anything for us boy?”

“Stay back!” You pulled out your dagger from its sheath, barely able to hold the blade out in front of you from the lack of food and water as your heart beat rapidly in your chest while the men only laughed.

“Now what exactly are you going to do with that, huh little boy?” The first one laughed as he eyed your dagger. “Hey, that’s a pretty knife. I think I’ll have to get me it.”

The man who seemed to be the boss lunged at you, his hands held out in front of him as he tried to grab you. Remembering Ser Bjorn’s training, you stepped off to the side, slicing the man across the face as you did so.

“Agh!” The man grunted in pain, pressing his hand to his face before bringing his hand down to see his blood coating his palm. “Why you bastard cunt! You cut me! Get him!” He shouted at his two men.

You nearly tripped over yourself as you faced the other direction you were originally headed, running as fast as you were able from the three goons that chased you down. Your legs felt as if they had turned to wood as you sprinted once more through the thicket of trees, your each step seeming to get more heavy than the last as you kicked up the dark mud from beneath you, your clothes only starting to weigh you down from the mud that clung to it. And as you darted through the trees, fearing that you lost your way and that there was no escape to this endless maze of your fate, the sharp branches grabbed ahold of your cloak, tearing it from your body as you ducked beneath the trunk of a tree that had fallen over.

Turning your head back, you saw that the men were starting to gain on you, their faces furious from your attack on their leader. You tried to push yourself to quicken your pace, to keep going until you reached the land that Ser Bjorn informed you of in hopes of your own survival, but to no avail. No matter how hard you tried to outrun them, you were at a disadvantage. They not only outnumbered you, but they also overpowered you in both size and strength. You turned your head back to the front, facing the path in front of you until you felt something hook around your ankle. There was a harsh pull at your leg as you attempted another step, and as you looked down in horror, you saw that your foot had gotten caught between one the roots that belonged to the trees. With a gasp of fright, you fell down into the mud, letting out a scream from the sharp pain that suddenly spread from your foot and up your leg.

“There you are! You little bastard!” The leader hovered over you as you fought against him, grabbing you by the collar before bringing his fist down to connect with your jaw.

A snarl ripped out of your throat as you bared your teeth, the taste of copper filling your mouth as you ignored the throbbing pain in your face and your ankle once your fight response kicked in. Your tried to struggle against the man’s grip, scratching at his face in an attempt to gauge out his eyes like Ser Bjorn had taught you, but the man only swatted your hands away, hissing at the scratches you left behind.

“Agh! You fucking cunt!” The man barked, picking up your dagger that had slipped out of your hand from your fall, pinning you down against the mud as he held the blade up to your face. “You’ll pay for what you did. I’m gonna carve your face up like ye did mine.”

Your eyes widened against the sharp blade of the dagger, the terror in your eyes evident in your own reflection held in the shiny metal. The other two men surrounded you, watching you being held down with amusement in their smiles. Beads of sweat formed at your forehead, contradicting the iciness of your blood as you twisted beneath the weight of the man above you, watching the point of the dagger come closer, and closer. You tried to scream for help, praying that your calls would soon be answered and that someone might come to your aid. But there came no one. And it was in that moment, that you thought you might breathe your last.

A blood curdling scream tore itself from your throat as the man pressed the sharp point of the dagger into the skin of your forehead, dragging the blade over your brow and down your cheek, making sure to take his time as to provide you with as much torment possible. You squeezed your eyes shut against the excruciating paint that overtook your face, nearly passing out from the sensation. It was as if your body was close to shutting down. Your vision became blurry as a numbness circulated through every inch of you, your throat raw from your screams as you could no longer cry for help. You believed that this was it, that death had finally appeared himself before you as you looked up to see the man hold your dagger up above him, a rage filled grin on his face as he was ready to end your life.

“Please.” You rasped out in a desperate attempt, uncertain if you were speaking to the man who was about to kill you or the gods above. And then, as if your prayers were answered, you heard shouts in the distance, their voices muffled out by the fatigue that began to overcome you as you watched an arrow pierce itself through the goon’s shoulder. The man let out a yelp, dropping your dagger near your head as he fell off you. Time seemed to slow around you as you laid there, unmoving, your eyes glossed over as you listened to the clashing of swords. You tried to keep yourself awake, afraid that you would be no more the moment you shut your eyes until a figure hovered over you.

“H-help.” You breathed out, coughing from your own blood as the lids of your eyes grew heavier by the second as you slowly lost the will to fight.

“It’s alright.” You heard them speak. A boy from the sound of it as he called out for his father before turning back to you, a glimpse of soft brown curls and a pair of blue eyes that searched your face. “You’re safe.”

“H-help.” You spoke once more, the world around you fading into black as your ears picked up on his father calling out his name.

Robb.

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sevensjesper · 1 year

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Book One <3

I decided to make two profiles for Alina because she's a completely different character between the start and end of the first book alone.

'I'm sorry it took me so long to see you, Alina. But I see you now.' - Leigh Bardugo, Shadow and Bone

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone au #modern au #instagram au #alina starkov #sun summoner #the darkling #malyen oretsev #mal oretsev #shadow and bone imagine #darkling imagine #mal imagine #grishaverse #grishaverse au #netflix shadow and bone

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darklingsgrl · 2 years

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Heyyy, so sorry for the wait, life has been hectic. That being said because life is hectic as said I’m going to post this story in parts and hopefully I’ll have an chapter out once a week. Anyways thank you for your patience, here it is.

Dirty secrets

warnings: mentions of drunkenness, insanely hot darkling per usual, not much plot but it will get there I promise

part 1.

“Come on now, don’t be such a bore i’m sure there must be something you could do to, entertain us?” The little palace guard drawled on, trying to hint to something more suggestive in his drunken state, the flustered lady ignored him and stared at the floor ~hm this is some really nice floor~ she thought to herself as she walked past in a hurry, picking up her dress to bolt, her heavy suitcase in hand.

Normally she would have looked the man dead in the eye, normally she would have smacked the life out of them, but today wasn’t normal, she wasn’t a queen here, nor would she be until she could get in the court and overthrow the throne, yes, it’s true soon, not only will the respect she deserves be hers, but so will the crown. The man grabbed at her wrist and tried to tug her towards his chest but his hand was smacked away before he could lay a hand on her. “You will do well to remember not to touch your superiors, soldier” her head snapped up as her eyes transition from the floor to the face of the man before her. Dark, brooding, gloomy, it would do well by her to stay away from him, but before she could step away he spoke up, “if you’ll so kindly step aside I’d like to show my fiancé around the palace grounds, yes?” They’re eyes shifted towards you looking for an answer in your flustered face, “yes, of course” you answered curtsying to show a sense of respect to the man that seemed to be the high soldier the counsel at home spoke of, and the one she was said to marry, General Kirigan. She cursed his name. Why couldn’t he be one of those bone headed imbeciles who would be easy to kill off after marriage, why did he have to be so, well, handsome?

#Darkling #darkling imagine #hot as hell #general kirigan #aleksander morovoza #the darkling

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hottpinkpenguin · 1 year

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"Just because all the others never showed you love doesn't mean no one ever will." This one with the Darkling with angst to fluff? Like maybe he keeps pushing the reader away because he's new to affection and doesn't know what to do?

A/n: this request felt so spot on for our favored tortured villain <3 thank you for the message anon!!

Darkling X Reader Word Count: 1656 | Warnings: not proofread, brief mentions of battle, hints at past abuse if you squint, super angst turns to tooth-rotting fluff

Note: dorogoy is the Russian for 'sweetheart' “Leave us.”

The Black General strode in, his eyes murderous and his fists balled at his sides. Despite the warm summer night, the chill in his voice was enough to send a shiver up everyone’s spine. The two Healers rose from the sides of your cot where they’d been tending your injuries. They bowed quickly and kept their eyes glued to the ground as they scuttled out of the tent, leaving you and the Darkling alone.

When the sounds of the retreating Healers’ footsteps had been swallowed in the gentle murmur of the camp outside, his eyes finally met yours. He looked as if he were about to break apart, his body practically abuzz with barely contained rage.

“Aleks, I’m fine,” you chided him, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “It’s just a burn. I’ll survive.”

Darkness blossomed around him, swallowing the dim candlelight on the inside of your tent. His jaw was clenched so tightly you worried he’d break a tooth, the veins in his forehead pulsing as he tried to regain control of himself. You’d seen his power a thousand times, but even still it startled you. You smoothed your face into a mask of calm, refusing to show him your instinctual fear.

“You almost died, dorogy.” He sank down on the edge of your cot as the shadows receded into him like water soaks into a sponge. “You are decidedly not fine.”

You smiled at him, shifting slightly to make room for him on the cot next to you. He was watching you, his eyes drinking you in. You could hear his next question before he even asked it.

“Are the Healers treating you fairly?” The whisper of a threat hung off Aleksander’s words. You knew that his fear was that the other Grisha would shun you because of his affection for you. A fear you’d tried to quell a thousand times before. If only he knew how terrified the others were of hurting you, of disappointing you, or of otherwise mistreating you…

You reached out, running your fingertips lightly along the back of his hand. He watched you, waiting for an answer.

“They’re treating me perfectly,” you assured him emphatically. “I have everything I need.”

He didn’t respond immediately, transfixed by the circular patterns you wove along the back of his hand. His eyes glazed over, his shoulders dropping slightly as he let the facade of the Black General relax in your presence. You watched him carefully, wondering how he managed to maintain such composure and control in the midst of battle. You’d seen him out there, on the battlefield: an avenging angel, all rage and cruelty, his black kefta fluttering like a flag, cutting down wave after wave of Fjerdan. He’d barely flinched, barely shown any sign of his powers draining him. It filled you with a strange combination of sorrow, pride, and lust.

“Aleks?” Your voice, though quiet and gentle, snapped the moment like a dry twig. He looked up at you expectantly. “Are you alright?”

You could tell as soon as the words left your lips that you’d said something wrong. He recoiled away from you as if he were the one that had been burned. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and horror, followed immediately by self-loathing. You reached out, but not quick enough. He rose from the cot, stepping away from you.

“How can you ask that of me? After what you saw today? After what I put you through? You want to know if I am alright?” His composure was unraveling, his dark eyes turning into bottomless pits of fury with nowhere to go but inward. He’d once told you that the most unexpected part of living so long was the extent to which he had come to loathe himself. You hadn’t understood it then, but now you caught a glimpse of just how deep Aleksander’s malice towards himself actually went.

The shadows sprung from his fingers with ease, devouring the tent’s light and swarming around you like bees. The air around you crackled with their presence, although they didn’t touch you. Across the tent, consumed by a darkness so complete he almost vanished entirely, Aleksander shook with the explosive force of his power. His chin was tipped back and his mouth open as if screaming, although the only thing pouring out of his throat was more darkness. His eyes lost their whites, now just two blackened sockets, lifeless and unholy-looking.

Terror seized you. Your heart jolted as adrenaline ricocheted through your veins. You knew Aleksander would never hurt you, although you weren’t sure how much of the man you loved was still with you in that tent.

You called out to him, but somehow your voice vanished in the space between you two. As if you’d been plunged underwater, your scream sounded distorted and dull. Aleksander didn’t even flinch.

Wincing through the pain, you flung your legs over the edge of the cot. The shadows made way for you like a river parts around rocks. The hairs on the back of your arms and neck stood up straight, your instincts screaming at you to run! Leave! Kill him! Get out!

Summoning your strength and with a sharp inhale, you forced your legs to hold your weight as you stood. The burns that climbed up the left side of your body from your kneecap to your jaw felt white hot, but you grit your teeth against the urge to pass out and took a shaky step forward. Again, the shadows pouring out of Aleksander moved to allow your passage. A distant part of you idly wondered what the rest of the camp could see, if anything, of the spectacle unfolding around you.

Your feet almost slipped out from under you in the damp grass. Your reflexes dulled by exhaustion and pain, you lost your balance and pitched forward. You struck out with your arms to brace your fall, twisting your face away from the direction of impact. There was a moment of free fall before you felt strong arms catching you, artfully avoiding your burns.

Aleksander lifted you easily off your feet in a sweeping motion. You didn’t open your eyes until you felt your back settle against the cot. When you did, a familiar face hovered over you. All trace of his shadows gone, all you saw now was a man. A leader, a saint maybe, a King certainly: but a man still, exhausted and confused.

Before he had a chance to speak, you pressed a finger to his lips. Your head was spinning with pain, but you forced yourself to stay present.

“I’m not afraid of you, Aleks,” you insisted. You held his gaze defiantly, challenging him to argue with you. For once in his stubborn life, he held his tongue and let you finish. “I don’t resent you for who you are. I don’t fight because you command me as my general, or even because you ask me as my lover. I fight beside you because I love you, and I believe in what we’re doing.”

For all his wisdom, you knew that there were parts of your heart that Aleksander would never understand. You’d accepted as much a long time ago. But you’d be damned if you let him rip himself apart over it.

He swallowed thickly, as if trying to take in what you’d told him.

“I don’t… understand. How you can feel that way. About… someone like me. Someone who is what I am. There’s… sometimes-most of the time- it doesn’t seem like there’s enough left of me to love.” You let him finish, his words coming out chopped and halting. It seemed to take almost as much out of him as his powers did, and the sincerity with which he spoke made you smile gently. When he was finished, you reached up and cupped his cheek, your thumb carefully tracing the ragged volcra scar that bisected his cheek.

“Aleks. Just because all the others never showed you love doesn’t mean no one ever will.”

You watched as his memory clicked into place, recognizing the very words he’d said to you the night he’d finally gotten you to tell him about the others. The men before him. The ones who’d tried and failed to love you, and the ones who’d only wanted to hurt you. Those had been the words he’d said, and the reason you’d fallen in love with him. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been waiting to give those words back to him.

He marveled at you for a moment as if seeing you for the first time before he spoke. “I wasn’t talking about any others,” he said quietly.

You shook your head, smiling. “Of course you were,” you answered. “The other lives, the other versions of yourself. That’s all you talk about because it’s all you know. You’ve lived with yourself for so long you’ve forgotten that there’s any way to feel about yourself but hatred.”

You let your hand drop, a sudden wave of exhaustion crashing over you. He noticed, catching your hand halfway down and guiding it to the top of your sheets.

“Dorogoy,” he started, hesitating a moment on the pet name he’d given you. “Where have you been all my lives?”

You beamed at him, finally hearing a break in the tension of his voice. He smiled back - not a broad smile, but enough to touch his eyes.

“Right here, Aleks,” you replied as you let your eyes drift closed for sleep.

You didn’t let yourself fully succumb to rest until you felt his warmth lay down next to you, his arms ever so carefully snaking around your torso. He tucked you closer to him, and you buried your head in his neck, breathing in the scent and the feel of him. You felt yourself slide off into sleep just as he started singing you an old Ravkan lullaby…

#darkling #darkling imagine #darkling x reader #darkling x y/n #darkling x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone requests #darkling requests #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagine #ben barnes #ben barnes x you #ben barnes imagine #bin bons

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shawty-writes-a-little · 7 months

Text

From Eden 4.

[part1] [part2] [part3] [part 4]

darkling x brekker!reader

summary: feelings are heavy

word count: 3k

warnings: S2 shadow and bone, ep5 intoxication dreams, heavy angst, LONGING, English is not my first language x

An: I WILL update more frequently I PROMISE I PROMISE I PROMISE and NO this has nothing to do w that angry from Eden anon, but hey fucko if you’re reading this I still love you

Despite of what y/n promised Kaz, she knew she wouldn’t entirely stick to her word. For somebody who grew up in ketterdam honour was just another grey line ready to get bent to one’s will. Besides high ground all mighty morals isnt what Kaz raised her with anyways, she knew that if she planned to cross what she promised Kaz it’d be a reflection of perhaps just the way he raised her. At the moment she told herself frankly anything as they traveled for quest of the Neshyener, some of her big brother’s words did drip through her mind in a way, could it be she was that naive? Was she a pawn in Aleksander’s game, perhaps a useless one but still someone whose emotions he had amusement toying with? No. That could not be, Kaz didn’t have half a mind to know what he was speaking of and y/n knew Aleksander better than that. He wasn’t the best of men, he had his traits but he had always been a great lover to her per se and that is what mattered.

Pulling out of her thoughts when Tolya approached the three talking about how they should pray for their dead and what not, the rest where praying for their dead whilst Kaz, Jesper, wylan along with y/n stood on the side. Them not praying wasn’t a blasphemous just not that heavy on faith. Especially Kaz and Y/n. “We don’t have to worry about our dead, y/n here can well enough resurrect them.” Kaz taunted.

Most of the time y/n would talk back but she knew better than to create a scene again, “If I pay you will you shut up?”

Kaz scoffed, the source of their money was same nonetheless “How much and the answer is no regardless”

Choosing not to answer to kaz’s remarks y/n parted ways with a simple “I’m with wylan and Jesper” despite of whoever Kaz had planned to group her with, she didn’t give him time to answer as she paced with the two with slumped shoulders and crossed arms. Kaz doesn’t get to pick and choose what’s right and what’s not for everybody, all the time. She thought to herself grumpily, alternatively Kaz gestured Jesper to keep an eye on her, he believed he had lost y/n to the darkling’s manipulation for a long time—she’d be angry and whiny about his restrictions and ways but Kaz wouldn’t loose another one of his siblings to their nativity.

As much as y/n wanted to be present for the crows, in the plans and their ongoing troubles as well, she sensed something off between wylan and jesper she didn’t want to pry wylan and Jesper couldn’t get alone time with y/n to tell her about it, so in all it was just filling awkward silences with small talks. She could deduct it was probably some argument. It seemed petty as an outsider of someone’s relationship but she recalled being in that position once.

She went through it all once. The days spent with Aleksander hauntingly found his way back to y/n’s mind. She’d avoid sleeping so what she assumed was her own mind tormenting her with his dreams would stop. ‘But can’t you see I’m right here?’ ‘The saints couldn’t get me to leave you…’ ‘I am not leaving you, my world, I’m leaving neither.’ It felt frustrating thinking about those dreams where he said he hadn’t left and then reality struck that he actually hadn’t. Did they mean anything? Was the Aleksander in her dreams real?

If so, she was furious. Furious at the man who claimed to love her to ends and had her believe he had died. He wronged an entire nation and didn’t even tell her that. Conversations with him prior to it all came back like cold and sharp ocean waves. He’d talk of a greater tomorrow for Ravaka, everyday he’d work tirelessly camps to camps tracking one artefact to another. Not that he didn’t tell her about it, they would have lengthy conversations but y/n would’ve never thought he would be expanding the fold just like that. The signs were perhaps always there. It was rather wrong of her to be oblivious to it, she was the only person Aleksander was that open to. Maybe if she loved him less she could’ve known what he was capable of.

He’d told her of all wrong that was done by his hands, she foresaw them, lost them in the story of the boy she told him, the boy travelling town to town raised on a wretched fate. Y/n knew what it was like to grow up in burning houses, the flames never really leave you. She maybe didn’t condone what he did but she never even asked herself that. She didn’t want to at the time. Kaz’s words ‘Manipulated by your beloved monster’ made her glum thinking was he right? Surely not, the man who’d raise wars would come into her arms like the sweetest gift of life. His shoulders relaxed only in the moments he’d have his arms around her. The man who didn’t speak more than orders and council meetings would talk to y/n about his past, for a stoic man his love was ever so evident for her even amongst other people—gesture of his hand on the small of her back, his eyes scanning for a certain woman in the crowd, married…they were almost married. How could he possibly manipulate her? His love that intense like of a raging storm why wouldn’t Kaz understand that?

Aleksander did a bad thing, evil even. Her Aleksander, a traitor, rebel, the villain to them all, most dangerous thing but they don’t know how the most dangerous thing used to laugh. How he used to love. How he does, but y/n isn’t so sure if she could reciprocate it that way anymore. She knows she shouldn’t. She knows she shouldn’t even be thinking about him the way she did as of now. No.

Y/n has promised kaz and she had promised herself, she wouldn’t associate with him no more. He kept his motives hidden from her once and he could again if he succeeded. The world was against him for a reason. All the torment he inflicted wasn’t justifiable by her. She’d see him one of these days, for one last time and then wash her hands of him. He could live out his days in the wild or create a house of a fold for himself and she wouldn’t bother to care. It broke her heart not to care for Aleksander but she didn’t know any other way. She knew what she told Kaz but she promised not to go back to Aleksander, she won’t. Y/n will have to confront him once, she thought about it a lot, what it would be like, hold him by the collar and demand an explanation. Wish him the worst, bid him goodbye and then wash her hands of him.

—

With sundown y/n became more and more clearer of her thoughts. Firm she will close the chapter that was Aleksander. Currently she stood alongside Kaz as the crowd towered tolya who explained the map of inside the house. Kaz’s plan was to sweep from all sides for the neshnyar, as y/n attempted to accompany wylan Kaz yanked her back by his cane, “Remember what you promised?”

“That literal?” Y/n groaned about her promise to ‘not leave kaz’s sight’ straightening her clothes. That evening took a low turn actually. The metal doors clung close with a pang just in a few moments they were in. The red gas flew out of the walls of the small room they were trapped in, faster than they could register what was happening.

“So this is how we die” Jesper’s shaky voice was first to admit what everyone else was thinking. Y/n struggled against the metal doors still, thankfully her optimism didn’t run out before she dropped to the ground unconscious.

The air felt crisp against her skin as the gigantic window crept open. She remembered these chambers. They were the ones she shared with Aleksander back at little palace. Y/n found herself in a dress, even the dress she recognised. Before she looked in the mirror she could reckon the fabric, it was her wedding dress. Unsure how to feel about it she just stared at her reflection. Is this after life? Is this a dream? Or perhaps a nightmare? Is it real? Four striking questions she didn’t bother to look an answer for as she stared at herself. Before everything happened, she’d never really got to try on her wedding dress. She chose the fabric and the pattern and the work on it but things went south faster than the designers worked. With the fete there was barely any time for trial. But as she saw herself in the moment it was exactly like she’d imagined, never too big on fancies but it was her wedding dress. Even her hair was done so perfectly she could make no sense of what was happening. It felt so confusing and endearing at the same time. Finally looking away from her dress her eyes fell on the note by the mirror desk which read ‘The Gardens.’ In a handwriting she was afraid she recognised.

Picking up the hem of the dress she walked out the room, down the long stair case she rushed to find an explanation for which state of being she was in. The opening to the gardens were enlaced with flowers and veils. When she finally came to the gardens she found entire area decorated as though celebration of the biggest event ever. Benches surrounded what seemed like a wedding altar, above hanged the most gorgeous garlands of bright flowers with dark organzas draped in a beautiful pattern. Each and every little detail was a conversation she remembered having with Aleksander from when they planned their wedding. In awe of the scene as she try to take in everything along with the sunset over the horizon, two hands pulled her back by her waist. Before she registered being alarmed, the instinct was replaced with that of warmth. Warmth she held very dear. “Why hello, my love” Aleksander spoke as he rested his head by crook of her neck giving her shoulder a gentle peck.

“Aleksander” Y/n said and turned to face him, she wanted to make sense of what it was that was happening but she truly didn’t want to. Maybe she is already dead but she was the happiest perhaps accepting whatever this was. She had so many questions to ask but the sight of his face, in his wedding attire, first time since the ship, first time since her strange dreams were it was just bargain, blame and endless arguments, y/n overcame the urge to punch him and show how cross she was, how much her hurt her, she just wrapped her arms around him, leaping into him as he carried her off her feet and hugged her tightly in his arms almost as if she wouldn’t exist if he let her go.

This felt like his luckiest moment, “and they say it’s a bad omen to see your bride before the wedding” he joked letting her out of his arms but still holding her close. “You look heavenly.”

“What-uh what is this?” Y/n asked finally, she could gather it was a wedding perhaps there but how so? What time of the year even was it? Plus they had so many hurdles to overcome before actually getting married.

“It’s our wedding day!” He exclaimed as he replied to her and gently caressed her face with a smile on his face. He moved his head to the side gesturing her to look around, the decorations, the empty guest benches, the wedding attires.

“But…how? How did we get here? Did we even tell everybody?” Y/n asked still not convinced that this could be real, a faint voice in the back of her head did tell her none of this was remotely real.

“We did, the guests will be here any minute.” Aleksander said “I just wanted to see you once…for myself.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at his irresistible little gesture to see her before the wedding all for himself. They were about to get married, together for an eternity, yet he couldn’t spare a few moments even. “And Kaz?”

“You know how your brother is, he was upset, really upset for a while. But he came around. Doesn’t he always?” Aleksander explained as he held his beloved’s hands in his.

His mannerisms of holding her hand so tightly desperately want to see her. Kaz coming around like he always did. Scene of the wedding. It all felt so strikingly real. This is perhaps exactly how their wedding would be. This was real. Maybe what happened before all of this was just a terrible terrible dream. Believing that y/n leaned forwarded and kissed her husband to be. Omens he damned. He kissed her back holding her face with his hand and his free arm by her waist securing her tightly in his arms.

Y/n pulled away for a moment to look at him, the setting sun behind her casted light orange hue on her lover’s face and she wanted to be reassured he was here. This was real. This was happening. However the voice said otherwise. It was everyone’s voice all at once.

“You abandoned me! You died…you made promised-you-I loved you..I-I love you! And you aren’t here you died you’ve left me”

“—I’m here aren’t I?”

"If it isn't the wedding bells I hear!"

"That monster of yours you almost married wasn't sabotaging your life?!"

"Manipulated. He manipulated you. You dimwit.”

Every conversation, every dream, everyone’s voices were echoing so loud it shambled the walls of her intoxicated dream. She pulled away from Aleksander sharply and put her hands over her ears to silence everything she wanted to be a bad dream but was reality. Aleksander put his arms around her to support her as she knelt to the ground he crouched down next to her not wanting to leave her side for a moment.

“This…this isn’t real.” Y/n told herself more than she told Aleksander. This isn’t real. It made her want to cry because this actually was her dream, to marry Aleksander and no body is cross with her. Her dream was dying. “This isn’t real-“

“Y/n” he cooed forcing her frantic eyes to look back at him, “look at me my love.” He said and his voice was so full of love and fragility Y/n wanted to cry that this wasn’t real. It was perhaps a stark foreshadowing what her dream would be like in reality, she could be in her wedding dress with her beloved and yet feel like crying. Because that dream would never be hers. “This could be real. It almost was. For a long time it almost was real, wasn’t it? It never occurred to you even four months ago that this couldn’t be, that we couldn’t be. Why now?”

“Aleksander…” she wept in her hands, how was she to explain to her hopeless lover of a conscious which conversed to her in form of Aleksander.

“Do you not want this?” He asked, his eyes scanning every hint of assurance on her face desperately wanting just one answer.

“Yes” she breathed out as tears ran down her face but she knew the ‘but’ after that yes was a big and unavoidable one. However unpleasant it was. “But it’s different now…”

“How is it? How is it any different y/n? Are you not the same woman who’d house a wretched soul that is mine…like you always did? The dreams we share…would you not house it any more?” He asked.

“Yes…yes I—I would Aleksander…” but I simply can’t, not after what you did. Y/n held back from saying because she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

“Then please, be it, be my home, be my solace, I’m out there leading a fight by myself and I always have until you—you. Please fight y/n. Fight for us. Don’t loose hope in us so soon…don’t wash your hands of us. Promise me you won’t?” He asked as he held her hands like the only thing in the world but she did not have anything to say as she stared at him. Eyes so full of hope but it was just the face of her own conscience. She did not have the heart to promise him anything nor did she have the capacity to stomach their love. She…missed him. But she didn’t want to anymore. That idea in itself was painful, very painful.

All that turmoil was over as a bigger one took place, gaining consciousness. Y/n woke up gasping for air as her mouth tasted like the worst thing she’d ever tasted. Familiar faces around her sighed in relief as she coughed her way out of almost death.

—

They got what they were there looking for. The neshyenyer. However y/n just got more frustrated how could her feelings remain so disoriented? She hated how she felt, she hated Aleksander but she wanted to love him to the end of her days but she knew that wasn’t possible anymore. She hated how Kaz still saw her as someone not capable to make rational decisions on her own and she wanted to prove him wrong but she didn’t know where she stood.

Furthermore as they walked out in the barren fields, Kaz tried to talk to y/n for a moment as they were loading the carriage but she dismissed him for later. Perhaps his intoxicated dream was eye opening too but y/n couldn’t handle it at the moment. Torment that her feelings and the dream she just had inflicted heavy upon her.

—

HIIIIIIII god I love this plot SO much at this point I’m just writing for myself😭

Drinker water eat sweets and keep seasonal depression away mfs

Tags: @louderfortheback @sloppyzengarden @mori1b2bpad @zeeader @shitpostrandomness @duchess @serpentthecrow @evalynkillgrave @bwormie

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

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moonlightgrisha · 10 months

Text

Everybody knows

Ch. 9 You decide to take your destiny into your own hands, even if it means disobeying the Darkling's orders. [Masterlist] Previous - Next

You have never been scared of darkness. It didn't scare you when it was a childish game with your cousins, and it still didn't when you grew up and faced long starless nights all by yourself.

But the darkness you dive in, this time, is different. It's thick and cold, and you won't remember anything once you wake up, but just a glimpse of the horror. Shadows. Monsters. Blood.

You finally wake up, and you are not in your tent. It takes you minutes to start recalling the events that led you here, on this unfamiliar bed, with a dry mouth and a strange feeling in you gut.

Your abdomen is bandaged, and when you pass your hand on the linen, it doesn't hurt as much as you expect. You had good healers, but they are not here anymore. You look around and see nobody.

You sit on the edge on the bed and things finally begin to fall into place. You recognize the sober furnishings, especially the war table, filled with papers and notes.

As you are wondering where the the host has gone, you turn to look behind your shoulders, and you see the Darkling lying on a couch. It's more of a bench, actually, and it's impressive how he can rest on such an uncomfortable surface. He seems fast asleep, though. You take your time, looking at him. He sleeps on his side, arms folded, and when you notice a scrap of paper in his hand, you realize that he probably had no intention to fall asleep whatsoever.

You also realize that it is his bed, the one you slept for... how long? You wish you knew. But you are not going to wake him up. The things you discussed - the things that happened - it's all coming back to you, and you have no idea how to deal with all of it.

Someone tried to kill you, and you killed them instead. No, it was his doing, actually. But you signed them up for the execution.

You stand up, feeling overwhelmed, then glance at the General once more. You also found peace in his arms, for a brief moment. Isn't that the scariest thing of all? And while you push away your desire for another embrace, you spot something on the paper in his hand. You bend and gently remove the paper from his hand. He doesn't even flinch, but you feel the touch of his breathing, so close, and conjure all your will not to get distracted.

It looks like a leaftlet, but it is actually a holy picture, like the ones you have seen all your life. But this one is different.

This Saint in the picture holds the full moon on her hands, and her figure is surrounded by pitch black darkness.

"You are awake".

His voice startles you. The Darkling is sitting up, looking at you with hope. No, not hope, relief. You are finally awake, that's what he means to say.

His hands filled with your blood, when he found you in the snow, and there are many things you could tell him. Instead you show him the image and ask: "What is this?"

"That is you, according to some". He stands up, and he would probably come even closer, if you'd let him. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine". Right now you only care for this paper in your hand. "Please, explain this."

"Rumors fly". You let him remove the paper from your hand, while he looks at you and says: "I'm afraid we cannot keep discretion any longer, although the King might wish otherwise. Your... spectacle, has been seen by the whole camp".

"I blew up my cover", you exhale.

"You survived", he points out.

You sit on the bed, searching for a place inside your mind for the reality you woke up in.

"Healers worked on you until this very morning", he explained. "That is why I would advise to take it slow".

"I do feel fine".

"I'm glad to hear it". His face suddenly clouds over, and for a moment he's about to speak, but he stops, like he changed his mind.

"What is it?"

"I must leave, now". He gets up and quickly wears his kefta, throwing his heavy black cape on top of it. "But my oprichniki are right oustide. You will be safe. We'll return to Os Alta in the morning".

"And then, what?"

He stops to stare at you. "I'm going to find out now".

There is something he's keeping from you and it makes you mad, but before you can enquire, he's back at your side. You stop breathing, expecting something you just once dared to dream about, and for a moment it seems he will make that dream come true. You feel his knuckles gently caressing your cheek, and it's all very fast, almost like you imagined it. He says nothing, and then he's gone.

You lie back on the bed and time slows down. Too many questions roam in your mind. You want to know who tried to take your life. You want to know where the Darkling is going right now. Are you now his guest, sleeping in his own bed, in his own tent, or are you back to being a prisoner, guarded by oprichniki?

You need to take charge of your own destiny.

When Genya suddenly enters the tent, you think you might have got also hallucinations, now. But she sits next to you and leans over to inspect your face, and you realize she is real.

"I thought worse", she says.

"What are you doing here?" you reply. "I mean, I'm so glad to see you. But shouldn't you be in Os Alta?"

"The King and Queen have moved to the Winter Palace in Ulensk for a few weeks" she explained. "Officially, it is a late winter vacation, but rumor is, it's about something else entirely".

The way she looks at you says more than her words.

"This can't possibly..." you begin, but you don't know how to end. Because Genya is right.

"Everybody knows", she adds. "Everybody is talking about it. The General himself was on his way to the palace, an hour ago. They are hosting a reception tonight, but I think there will not be any other topic of discussion than the Moon Summoner".

You instantly know what to do. "I must go".

Genya's lovely face turns a little pale. "I think you should not".

"These people are deciding my own fate, and I'm not even present".

"Listen". Genya's voice is just a whisper, now. "I am only telling you this so you understand how important it is that you stay here and follow the General's orders. Those men that attacked you... it seems they were Ravkan".

It is your turn to get pale, now.

You never had enemies. And nobody knew who you were, back at home. Except for...

Can it be? Is it such a shame, to have a Grisha in the royal family, that she would have you killed before anybody could find out? She must be so mad, that her plan had the opposite effect.

"Let me go to the Winter Palace", your voice tremble. "Let me look at the Queen in her eyes".

"I just told you this so that you would desist".

"And it didn't work".

"You don't have a proper dress for attending a reception".

"I do, actually. I brought one."

Genya's eyes open wide. "You brought a gown at the battlefront? Saints, why?!"

You feel yourself blushing. "I thought... If something happened to me... at least I'd have something decent to be buried with".

Genya hides her face in her hands, exasperated. "The General will kill me for this".

"I'll do it without your help, then".

She hesitates. She knows you mean it. Then, she gives you a long, assessing look.

"It would be a crime to let you go to the Winter Palace in this state".

This is the moment in which you know, you finally have a partner in crime. You know something inside Genya longs for taking her revenge on the Queen, the King and the whole rotten royal court. The two of you are on the same side, now, and maybe you've always been.

She helps you get ready and slip out of the tent unnoticed, right into her carriage. This is the trickiest part, but Genya knows how to make people see only what they want to see.

Now, on your way to the Winter Palace, you start to feel scared. What on Earth do you think you are doing? This is the most reckless thing you have ever done in your life. You could end up in a really bad place. Also, the Darkling won't like it. But when Genya says: "Maybe we should turn back", you immediately answer: "Not a chance".

And that's settled.

When you arrive at the palace, Genya lets you in the service entrance. She whispers a good luck, before vanishing into the grand hall. You take your time, before following her.

If you do this, there's to turning back. You become the Moon Summoner and you face the consequences.

But destiny is calling you. You hear it, now. It echoes with shadows, monsters and blood, with screams of mad men and whispers you have yet to decipher.

It is now or never.

You follow that call.

Entering the majestic grand hall, everyone turns to you. Some of them look horrified, others are in awe, some are mumbling: "Sankta". Everybody knows who you are.

You silently thank Genya for making you presentable and you march straight to the other side of the hall, where the King and Queen are seemingly conferring with the Darkling himself.

The look on his face when he sees you is indecipherable. He must have worked hard for all his long life, to prevent his emotions to come spilling out in situations like this.

But when you meet his gaze, just for a moment, you see a flash of blazing rage. It breaks your heart, and this is how you know this man has become to you more than you can handle.

You have no time to deal with your heart, now, shattered or not. You turn to the King and Queen, savoring their puzzled look, the utter fear in her Majesty's eyes. Then you give them the humblest smile and kneel. "My King. My Queen".

They definitely did not expect this.

"Raise", speaks the King. "We thought you were still recovering from your battle wound, as General Kirigan was just telling us".

"I feel much better, thank you, moy tsar", you respond. The Queen says nothing, and you take pleasure in her puzzlement, looking at her right in the eye.

It's the hardest part, now, as you shift your gaze to the Darkling, facing him, knowing so many things cannot be spoken, but hoping he will understand.

"I ask the General's forgiveness for disobeying his orders." He can't help but frown a little. You try to smile, but you know you won't charm him that easily. "He had indeed advised me to rest, but I felt compelled to be here today, in your presence."

"How thoughtful of you, dear cousin", the Queen has finally got up the courage to speak. She smiles, fake as her pretty lashes. "You shouldn't have bothered".

You turn to her, relieved to escape the Darkling's glare. "I didn't want to miss the chance to pledge my allegiance to Ravka's rulers, now that I found out I wield this great power"

"A great power?" The Queen does her best not to sound surprised, but she is not the actress she thinks.

"Please, let me show everybody". You gently raise your hand, and something does not go as you planned. The King's guard point their guns instantly, and someone in the crowd screams.

That's when the Darkling finally intervenes. He grabs your gloved hand, takes it down slowly. You look at him, hoping to find an ally, but he's cold as ice. "The Moon Summoner is only going to give a little demonstration", he says. "I assure you, it will be harmless".

His eyes are merciless. You swallow down the hard feeling of pain that just came from your heart, and nod.

He summons his shadows with a flick of his fingers, almost annoyed, giving you a black stage to perform on. You do your best to shape moonlight into a beautiful, gleaming globe. It is a miniature moon, slowly rotating above your head. A pretty trick you did sometimes in your room, as a kid.

The Darkling looks unimpressed. He called you 'Moon Summoner' without any sentiment. You feel something has broken, and while you are filled with wicked pleasure at the clapping of the crowd, you wish he would look at you like he used to. But dreams are useless, and you are in trouble.

You dissipate your moon without driving anyone mad, and the crowd is simply bewildered.

The King is much simpler than his consort, and somehow believes it a declaration of peace. He stands clapping, too. "We are honored to have such a great, rare power at our service."

"Let everybody know that I serve Ravka", you conclude. It is true. A half truth, actually.

The Queen stares at you with a little smile. Unlike her husband, she knows that this is war.

You bow to them while the crowd is still clapping.

As you and the Darkling take your leave, he whispers, so that nobody might hear, but only you. "Why did you come here?"

"You know why", you answer. "To take a stand".

"It was unwise and unnecessary. Also, you disobeyed my orders".

"I'm not your soldier".

"You are now". His words are as sharp as the night breeze that takes your breath away when you step outside. "You choose to fight, and you will fight. You will start training as soon as we reach the Little Palace".

He stops to stare at you, so full of contempt you almost burst in tears. "Welcome to the Second Army, princess".

He never talked to you like this before, and he never called you "princess", until now. You won a battle, tonight, but maybe you lost a war. And you feel so stupid that your dress, the beautiful gown you brought on the battlefield for your burial, worn on the night of your consecration, is black.

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