#Aleksander morozova x oc

[call-sign-shark]

Pairing: Modern!Darkling x OC || Amos x Heaven

Summary: An unexpected, chaotic new student attends Heaven's pole flow lesson and turns the class into chaos.

Word: 2.3k

TW: None, it's just hilarious.

More of Hev and Aleksander -> Echo of Shadows + Find the Modern!AU Masterlist here. (Amos is Aleksander's modern identity).

The reverbed melody of a slowed and sensual playlist mix resounded in the studio as Heaven warmed up for today's class, waiting for all her students to put on their exotic wear and stagger on their vertiginous Pleasers boots to their place. Stretching her back, her freezing, pale eyes glanced at how the warm glow of reddish neons reflected against the shiny, polished chrome of the poles.

A short while after Amos had bailed her out of the asylum, she didn't miss the chance to pick back up her job as a professional stripper and aerial performer. However, she quickly shared her dream of slowing down with performances to open her own studio. She didn't need to insist further for the tall darkness to push her to pursue her dream. That was how Hellevated Studio came to open.

As baby polers, all from different shapes and origins, soon started to fill the room, the white-haired doll watched them attentively, her eyes sharp and her aura rendered even more effortlessly imposing by her skimpy black outfit and her boots with heels so sharp she could have killed a man with them. Her long ivory mane fell on the small of her back like a waterfall of moonlight, amping up her imperial look. The same look that made her students jokingly refer to her as the "Slavic dominatrix meeting ballet assassin".

Despite her aloof and cold nature, the girls adored her — feared her a bit too — for she had that way of silently encouraging and acknowledging them that made the more shy of them feel strong and confident.

The lesson was about to start, so Heaven quickly applied a bit of liquid chalk in the palms of her hands and rubbed them together as she parted her lips to speak.

"Alright, girls, are you ready?"

Even though all the students were there, the bathroom creaked open.

"Girls AND boy."

The murder doll turned around, freezing mid-stretch.

Amos stood there, barefoot, his black hair slightly disheveled and his black eyes shining under the dim light. He was wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and drop-dead beauty, exuding his usual smug energy of a man who knew he looked like an exquisite sin... And the load of troubles that came with it.

Holding up a water bottle, he brought it to his lips and, just before drinking, he said, "The name's Amos, Miss. No experience but full of enthusiasm and driven by a strong emotional need to be validated". Then he winked, cocky as always, and took a sip.

The room had never felt so silent, even with the playlist still playing in the background. Of course, male polers existed, but they weren't particularly common. Even less in Hellevated, which was focused on the exotic, stripping, and sensual flow side of pole dance. But contrary to the students, it wasn't the presence of a man that astounded her... But him.

Heaven blinked, not quite believing what she was seeing.

Her expression flicked a bit.

She tried —really tried — to remain neutral and keep her renowned slavic coldness on, but the sight of cruel and terrifying CEO Amos Von Bismack half naked and leaning against a pole amidst her students sent her.

It started with a snort, and before anyone realized what was happening, the murder doll boomed in a full laugh. Not the usual smirk she gave, but a bright, raw and sun-like fit of laughter that would melt the hardest steel. Heaven nearly dropped into a squat, one hand on her thigh, the other in front of her mouth as she tried to breathe.

Her students gawked, astounded. They knew she was more into controlled expression and brief smile rather than huge emotional displays.

“Wait—she laughs?” A pretty black girl whispered.

“So, she's human?” Another wondered.

Amos smirked, glancing quickly around him before his coal black eyes fell on Heaven again.

"Shall I add 'bringer of miracles' to my endless list of qualities?" He added smoothly, grabbing the pole with quite a surprising confidence for someone who had never touched one in his entire life.

It couldn't be happening. Amos, head of one of the most important companies in Europe and bounty hunter in his spare time, had signed up for one of her pole classes.

His fingers gently brushed the chrome, "I can already feel the sensuality of my inner goddess coursing through my veins. Or maybe that's just fear."

He tried a little basic spin but almost slipped.

"Fuck."

Heaven was red in the face now, wiping her tears with one of her knuckles before she managed to retrieve a semblance of calm.

"You're going to hurt yourself," she commented, slowly but surely catching her breath again.

The tall darkness grinned in reply, wolfish and teasing. His pointy caning teeth flashed under the neons' light as he did.

"Let's say I pull a muscle. Do I get to experience you nursing me back to health with your scary hot teacher voice?"

Muffled giggles and surprised gasps erupted in the room. 

The white-haired doll raised a brow and crossed her arms of her small chest, regaining her composure and voluntarily ignoring his question, "Why the hell are you here?"

Amos tilted his head on the side, "You weren't returning my texts."

And you told me you were having a bad day.

"You're insane." She said, slightly shaking her head in disbelief though the amusement sparkling in her freezing eyes betrayed her, "Well, come here, Mr. Enthusiasm. You've just volunteered to demonstrate the class."

Was he caught off guard? Yes. Did he let it show? Absolutely not. Amos came in front of the students, challenging her silently.

"Alright," She started, sharp and steady as ever even if her voice cracked slightly at the end, “Beginner spin: Fireman. Step, grip, swing.” Heaven gestured to her own pole and did the move with an effortless grace, her long legs wrapping the pole in a perfect glide.

She landed, heels clicking. “Simple.”

The tall darkness nodded seriously, like this was a life-or-death situation.

“Okay. Step, grip, swing. Easy.” He said.

Then he tried it.

Oh, he tried.

His step was fine. The grip? Passable. But the swing? Well…

The whole class laughed.

"Hey! I'm just... warming up! You didn't even see my final form," Amos retorted, chest already rising like he just ran a marathon. He might have been a sports aficionado, he understood how much strength pole dancing required, "Teacher? I think I need mouth-to-mouth."

The students wheezed.

Heaven bit the inside of her cheek.

“Baby. Go back to your pole.”  She finally said.

The room went dead silent for exactly two seconds. Just the time needed for her students to process how she just called the handsome and cocky Devil.

“BABY?” A redhead girl exclaimed, scandalized.

Another clutched her chest like she had been shot. “That’s your man?”

“Wait wait wait—He’s your boyfriend?!”

Heaven pouted a little, "Husband." She corrected, though she wasn't sure it was something to be proud of at that exact moment.

"Girl, he's so so hot. Like "burn-your-soul hot," just like you. This is criminal, you two should be arrested." The fire-haired student added.

The murder doll might have been deadpan, but she couldn't help but blush a little, "Everyone, focus on your spins."

She waited a few minutes before immediately going to him when she saw him really trying, with zero grace but maximum smugness. To be fair, his burning confidence was almost confusing for someone half-naked in a room full of strangers who mastered the sport better than him.

Amos stopped when he saw her, welcoming the white-haired teacher with his signature smirk.

"Came to check on your fav—"

"Shut up," She cut him off, dramatically sighing before she moved behind him, "You're going to try again ,but this time I'll help. I wouldn't want you to get a concussion and sue me for ego damages."

With that being said, Heaven placed her cold hands on his waist. The sensation of her ice skin against his burning flesh spread through his body. The tall darkness blinked in reply, surprised by how firmly she guided him.

"Right hand here," she ordered, "Lean into it. Use your core, not your arms."

Amos went quiet for a beat. Not because he was actually focusing—but because his brain had promptly left the chat.

Her voice was low, so close to his ear he could feel her warm breath fanning over his. Besides, there was a slight breathlessness to it, due to her demonstration, that was driving him crazy. Her stiletto nails faintly digged into his flesh as she guided him, firm but helping his movements to be fluid.

She acted like she owned the moment.

And she did. She always did.

But now was even more mesmerizing. With her in those black pole gears, platform boots catching the light, muscles tight and poised, she commanded him like some gorgeous, terrifying siren and, frankly, he was not immune.

His mouth opened but nothing came out. It felt like his brain made a soft bzzt noise, like a power line frying itself.

“Amos. Focus.” The murder doll prompted, eyes narrowing just slightly as she stepped back, one hand still on his hip.

“Yeah,” he managed, voice cracking like a schoolboy. “Yep. Totally focused. Hyper-focused, actually.”

She tilted her head, amused.

The tall darkness stared blankly for a second before blurting: “You’re very… bossy.”

“Of course, I am your teacher right now, and your teacher wants you not to bring shame to her so you better nail this damn trick”

With her at his back, correcting each motion with pointed taps and firm holds, Amos tried again and this time he didn’t slip. It was only when he managed to do it alone that she stepped back, hands on her hips.

"Here we go. Beginner badge unlocked.”

It made him feel ridiculously proud. Puffing his chest, his smirk widened in an irresistible smile.

“You gonna kiss me as a reward?”

“No,” she said point-blank, turning around and walking toward another student... But she couldn't hide the loving smile that was pulling at her lips.

“Rude. And they say I'm the cruel one!” He still replied. In the mirror, he caught sight of the gleam in her eyes as she moved away, graceful and dangerously hypnotic. Then he realized something horrifying:

There was no way he was getting through this class without falling in love all over again.

The rest of the class unfolded as usual and her cold demeanor came back just as before. However, the damage was done. Her reputation as the icy and strict instructor? Gone up in flames all because her hot, chaotic husband couldn't keep his diva ass out of her studio.

And the worst part? Oh, it wasn't the fact he nearly pulled a muscle trying to execute a spin she made look like as easy as silk on skin. Nor the dramatic way he had crashed on the mat and groaned at the end of the lesson like he'd just returned from war. It wasn't even his endless complain about the bruises on his skin and pole burns.

No.

The worst part was when the class ended.

Heaven had tossed him his water bottle with a grin before sitting next to him on the mat and massaging his shoulder with a little grin that said "this is going in my private blackmail folder for our next argument" when a small group of her students, breathless and dewy from all the efforts, drifted over like curious cats.

"Heaven?" One of them ask, wrapping her towel around her neck, "We were wondering if your husband will come back next Thursday?"

Heaven frowned, her hands still on the tall darkness' shoulders. The latter had raised his head, as amused as surprised.

"It was fun. He almost died but like... In a hot way."

Amos relished on Heaven's astonishment as he stretched like a cocky jungle cat who had meant to fall off the pole several times during the lesson. Hauling himself up on an elbow, with his chest glistening and his hair unruly, he replied.

“I don’t know. I was feeling pretty majestic during that last spin.”

Heaven rolled her eyes and ignored him, "We'll see. If he behaves, maybe."

He gave the murder doll a roguish look. “Admit it, you were so impressed that you're scared of me stealing your job.”

One of the girls burst out laughing. “God, he’s cocky.”

The darkness shrugged with a half-grin, "Confidence is the key. Especially when your wife threatens to break your ribs if you mess up a spin.”

The girls cracked up, for Amos surely knew how to be irresistible when he wanted.

Heaven, her, gave him a sideways glance “I did not say that.”

“Twice,” he said, shamelessly.

That stupid grin of his, overconfident, insufferable, finally broke her composure. With a quiet sigh and softness, she accepted not to hide her affection anymore. The murder doll reached up, her fingers brushing through his sweaty hair. Finally, she granted him a well-deserved kiss.

A collective "awwww" errupted in the room, like the girls were witnessing the final scene of a romcom. After all, it was oddly endearing to watch their sharp instructor melt like this. For once, they had witnessed her ice cracked and, behind it, they had caught sight of pure, unmistakable love and deepest care.

"Power couple! If I were you, I'd marry him again just for that spin."

Moots taglist: @justrainandcoffee @cillmequick @mischievouslittlecreature @evita-shelby @radioactiveradarzoneuvb-76@peakyswritings @jjovin3221 @zablife

Shadow and Bone taglist: @lunawants , @emtaz-art, @lightinbug, @kmc1989, @thepassionatereader @mystic-mara @m-riaa @kallista-diune @meadows5 @kasagia @watersquirtpewpewboomm @the-sweet-psycho @sarahsobsession @elizabethblood9 @ritzzzzz @sophialeiros @noortsshift @sassyvilliantrope @sherwoodforesttales

[elizabethblood9]

He knows...

[hottpinkpenguin]

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

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

Eager

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look-”

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

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

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

“Eager are we, pretty girl?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[moonlightgrisha]

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.

Taglist

@mysweetlittledesire@budugu@flostvs1508@aoi-targaryen@sakshi2005@rainy-day-lady

[cookies-and-music]

The Scam of a Lifetime.

Aleksander was tired.

Centuries of feigned deaths and new identities had worn him down.

Every day, upon waking, his mind chose a reason why existence was no longer bearable, and he spent the day brooding over it.

That day, it was about the King. Each time the king died, Aleksander had to gain the trust of the new one, prove his worth, and bow to people he could crush with a fingertip.

It had to end.

And it would end with her.

He approached her after the show. In centuries, Aleksander had seen many good actors, but none as skilled as the girl before him. Anya was young, around 16, with brown hair and light eyes. The only thing special about her was the uncanny resemblance to the Queen. It seemed that fate had spared him.

'Let's see if I understand, General Krignan.'

'Kirigan,' he corrected.

'Kirigan,' she echoed. 'Are you telling me that there existed a second daughter of the tsars, unknown to anyone, who disappeared right after birth, and the king is looking for her?'

'Correct.'

 'It seems crazy,' she crossed her arms, leaning on the back of the chair. 'But then, why is he looking for her, after all these years?'

'He is very ill,' Aleksander began.

'The tsar is dying?' the girl widened her eyes.

'Remember that everything we say is confidential, Miss Anya,' he said with a slight undertone of threat, and she nodded. 'The tsar claims that the disappearance of the second daughter is his greatest regret, and he cannot die peacefully until he finds her.'

She seemed to reflect on it for a while; Aleksander could see the gears in her brain turning. When she finished, she raised an eyebrow. 'So, I should go there, give him the farewell kiss, and then what?'

'Then you would retire to the quiet life you know and prefer, in a villa located in the countryside far from Os Alta, with more money than you can count, never worring about working ever again.'

Anya sensed it, the smell of bullshit. 'And what do you gain?'

'A peaceful passing for my beloved sovereign.'

The coldness with which he said it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

She took a second to think about it, but even if she knew he would gain something, Anya thought she didn't care much, as long as she came out of it alive. And rich. Terribly rich.

[][][]

During the carriage journey to Os Alta, Kirigan instructed Anya on everything she could say and, above all, what she shouldn't say. The lost princess Katarina had grown up in an orphanage on the border of Shu territory, never knowing who her parents were. When she was old enough to leave, she became a seamstress. They met in a shop where she worked and sold him gloves.

'But I don't know how to sew,' Anya had objected.

'You'll learn along the way,' Kirigan had replied without looking up from his lunch.

Anya had raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

Apart from that, the journey was mostly silent and terribly boring. The black carriage they traveled in had dark curtains that prevented them from seeing outside, making it difficult to distinguish morning from evening.

For three days, the General was her only company, as he had forbidden her to talk to anyone else to maintain secrecy.

Just beyond the gates of Os Alta, the terrible silence surrounding the carriage was broken by the chaos from outside. Intrigued by the commotion, Anya reached a hand toward the curtain and pulled it slightly.

Outside, an adoring crowd had gathered around the carriage. They threw flowers and shouted, 'Glory to the tsar, glory to Ravka.'

'I didn't know you were so loved, General,' Anya turned to Kirigan, who, with his dark and heavy clothes and long legs, seemed to take up all the space in front of her.

Kirigan moved a flap of the curtain with a finger.

'They're not cheering for me, Miss Anya.'

The girl looked confused, and he handed her a newspaper he had next to him.

'What am I supposed to do with this?' Anya waved it.

'Usually, people read newspapers, Miss Anya.'

She clenched her jaw, swallowing. 'The. P- Prin-cess. Princess.'

Aleksander furrowed his brow. 'Miss Anya... you can read, right?'

'Of course!' Anya seemed almost offended. 'I just don't like it that much.'

Aleksander almost laughed as he watched her straighten up and furrow her brows as if facing an indecipherable puzzle. 'The princess re-tu-returns ho-me.' Anya tossed the newspaper on the cushion beside her. 'I don't understand,' she sighed, looking at Kirigan.

‘They’re here for you, Princess Katarina.' He gave her a half-smile, and Anya's jaw dropped.

'I had never received applause before the performance.'

Aleksander almost laughed.

Around an hour later, the carriage stopped.

'Well, Miss Anya, the show is about to begin.' Aleksander opened a door and stepped out before reaching his hand inside to help Anya get down. As her eyes adjusted to the outside light, Aleksander took her arm and crossed it with his. For a moment, Anya was surprised by such chivalry until she realized that the proximity was necessary only to ensure that no one heard him when he whispered, 'And know that if you back out, no corner will be dark enough to hide you from me, Miss Anya.'

[amiramorozova]

Dual Summoner and the Darkling -Another tale- Pt. 5 Bedroom (18+)

I was pulled from my thoughts when I felt his hand on my shoulder as I looked at him seeing that he was looking in my eyes. "Amira..you ok?" He asked as I nod. Those thoughts about him made me want him more as I leaned in close. "I'm just fine." I assured him as I kissed him. He kissed me back as we started to get enthralled again as he kissed my neck again as I moaned softly. 

This man..he has such an effect on me.. I thought 

I knew too well that it was our soulmate connection but still, I knew what I wanted and clearly he did too as we both removed each others clothes before we let them fall to the floor. I may have been shorter than him but that didn't mean I couldn't outsmart him. I pushed him on my bed as he was surprised and then went over as I climbed on top of him. 

"Amira.." Aleksander said as I knew too well he wanted this just as much as I did. Part of me knew this was just my desire to feel something I hadn't in awhile but then I stopped..could he have tumbled someone else in the time we'd been apart? That thought lingered in my mind for a few moments. 

He put a hand on my cheek as if he could tell I had hesitations "Amira..I've been searching for you all this time." He said as I felt my hesitation slip as I kissed him and he kissed me. I felt him adjust me before he thrusted inside of me as I moaned in the kiss and he used it to his advantage as his tongue slipped into my mouth and I was surprised. 

The pace between us was evident and I broke the kiss as I moaned and leaned my head back..I had a feeling that I shouldn't be enjoying this but I couldn't help it. We kept thing going as I tried talking while tumbling. "Have you tumbled other girls?" I asked as he seemed to only increase his pace as I gasped. 

"Even if I had, none  compares to you." He said as he kept thrusting up into me as I gasped..and moaned as I leaned my head back. Part of me started to scream in my head that I needed to stop but I was too much into this as I knew I hadn't in so long..but the idea that another grisha touched him sort of angered me.. 

"That was not a.." I moaned as he hit just right spot within me that made me tremble, it didn't seem to matter what I did..We were soulmates..We were betrothed..We belonged together. " Amira, eya fyela chi.." Aleksander said as I knew he had to be lying..he just told me he loved me and that couldn't be true.  (Translation: eya fyela chi - I love you)

My mind started to have many thoughts while we continued like why did I even allow this? He was the only one..the only one that I allowed to be with me like this as we moaned before I felt my release hit me. I stopped thinking about Kaitlyn being there as we kept going till we both collapsed after we both reached our end.. he had his arm around me as we both caught our breaths.

He had me look at him as we looked at each other and he seemed satisfied like I felt. "Eye Fyela Chi" Aleksander said as I shook my head. "Stop saying that..you don't." I said as I knew this was a mistake..all of our hookups were mistakes yet I kept making this choice. I removed his arm and got up as I knew if I stayed there he'd just try to remind me more about what just happened. 

Saints..I'm doomed to make this choice over and over with being his soulmate..soulmates always end up together..but this was.. I thought

I felt him come up behind me as he pulled me close to him, the skin contact didn't help my thoughts as he smirked. "DId you or did you not tumble other girls before finding me again?" I asked as I knew the answer..a man has needs. Women had needs too, I had to satisfy my own when I needed. 

I felt him touch my side as his hand slid down it "Yes, I had. I searched everywhere for you..but you seemed to always be so many steps ahead of me..you're different." He said as I looked at him from the corner of my eye. Was I really different? I tumbled with him..how many girls had he manipulated to use them? 

He turned me around to face him "I didn't force you into this. You wanted this just as much as I did Amira.." He said as I hated the truth in his words..I did. I could still feel his hands on me in places no one else had touched even though he was only touching my shoulders. "You're my soulmate..you didn't ask the most important question. What I was thinking about when I was with them.." He said as I wondered if I even wanted to know. "What were you thinking about?" I asked as I figured it couldn't be that bad.. He lifted one hand up to my cheek as he leaned in and kissed me..my mind didn't want to resist all the way as I kissed him back and when he pulled away he looked into my eyes. "You..I thought about how it felt with our on again off again hook ups...how you look so distracted in pleasure..the way you looked just a few minutes ago." He said 

I looked at him in surprise knowing that I was always being a bit harsh. "I am used to not having you around..so forgive me if yo-" "Push you into desire..make you feel things that you know you shouldn't." He said as he moved his hand down and slid his fingers inside of me as I moaned in reaction. "Whatever you do to yourself, is nothing compared to what I do..that brings you pleasure." He said as he started to move his fingers as I trembled under his touch and closed my eyes.

He started to increase his pace as I moaned again "See, your needs need taken care of too..you just need to let someone take care of them." He said as he continued but he backed me up to the wall which gave him more space to probe as I tried keeping my thoughts cleared. "That's it Amira..just let me take care of you.." He said as I tried to not let it show but fuck he knew exactly what he was doing as he knew how to bring me pleasure like no one else. 

He kept up that pace as he wasn't letting up and I moaned but I should have been paying attention to the fact he was also getting hard on my moans cause he removed his fingers as I gasped to thrust inside as he thrusted inito me fast and hard as I gripped on his shouders as we both moaned before it wasn't too much longer we released togther..

Saints..that felt good...but like with every time we cum togther..saints..another pregnancy scare in my future.. I thought

Eventually we pulled apart and got dressed as we walked out..Kaitlyn was having some tea and she whistled seeing us. "Damn, when you both go at it..you go at it for awhile.." Kaitlyn joked as I knew I still had my job. "Shut up." I said 

Aleksander seemed to smirk as he took my hand and kissed it. "I will get you to see that eya fyela chi. I'll see you around.." He said as he left. 

He keeps saying he loves me..no way he does.. I thought

TagList: @lifeisingrey​,  @houseoftoomanyfandoms​, @mizelophsun11​, @budugu​ ,  @wheresthesunshinesblog

[multix-ct117]

Dancing in the Dark

Ophelia Laskin + Aleksander Morozova

the Darkling x the Moon

{Shadow and Bone}

“He was her dark fairytale and she was his twisted fantasy. And together they made magic.”

[ignyxdaughter]

𝐗𝐈𝐗 - 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍

(𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 /𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐱 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧)

MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

A/N: English is not my first language. I’m gonna mix the books and the tv show to make the story line clearer (I read soc, the grisha trilogy and its tales). I don’t own Shadow and Bone and TO/Legacies characters; they’re, respectively, Leigh Bardugo, L. J. Smith and Julie Plec. Also, this is how I think the Darkling is,and some of the events will be changed due to the story's course!

words: 2873

warnings: mentions of witch/grisha hunt

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

They are now cuddled, both their backs resting on the Black Heretic's fountain while gazing at the woods. The witch rests her head on the Grisha's chest, hearing the calming rhythm of his heartbeat. Him, on the other hand, lets his thumb caress her arm.

This is all so new to them, so... peaceful. It seems like a weight has left their shoulders as soon as they found equality in each other, the desire of wanting someone to understand them finally fulfilled.

"So—", Katherine's soothing voice breaks the comfort silence "what made you change your mind?"

Kirigan doesn't take his eyes off the tree he's been looking at for the past minutes. He is still enjoying the fantastic sensation of believing that everything is going to be alright now. "I started to think about what you had said. The Second Army is young, none of them have experienced the Ravka before the Fold. They have the idea that the Unsea is the issue, and that all of Ravka's problems will be solved once it vanishes. However, it is the complete opposite: if we destroy it, things will worsen." She nods, patiently waiting for him to continue. "There is no way to guard the entire border, therefore, Ravka will be exposed to many travelers. The Fjerdans and Shu Hans will take advantage of the country's vulnerability and attack. The drüskelle will have more access to accomplish their hunts too." He turns to the woman by his side, who is gazing at him since he started speaking. "Grishas will be in great danger if the Fold is destroyed."

"The Supernaturals too."

"Ravka will be no more safe haven."

"No, it won't."

"Also—", he takes a sharp breath to gather forces to tell her his conclusion "you were right."

The shadow singer's smile almost reaches her eyes. Oh, how she loves to be told that! No matter how many times that often happens, the pride feeling filling her chest always appears. "Pardon? I don't think I quite heard you."

"I won't repeat myself, Katherine."

"Why not?" Her smirk increases as she sees him scowl towards her. "Your words had such a beautiful sound."

He rolls his eyes. "You are not used to hearing that, I assume."

"Oh, no—", she chuckles. "I am more than used to it. After all, I am always right."

"If people see Alina's powers expanding the Fold, they will label Grishas as aberrations again." He ignores her to continue his line of thought. "Another hunt will be made and, with the Unsea blocking the borders, it'll be difficult to escape. The only way to protect ourselves will be killing all the hunters, which will practically be almost all otkazat'sya."

Ravka will be the stage of a massacre, the unsaid words float through the air. All due to the fight for survival.

"I want my country to be a safe haven, not a remembrance of a bloodshed."

Katherine's gaze softens in compassion. She shares that wish with him; she wants the Grishas and Ravka's Supernaturals to see their country as a secure place where they cannot fear. It would be wonderful if Os Alta transformed into what New Orleans is to many: home.

"Although living now more peacefully, your people still dread, Kirigan. Even receiving all the trainment in the world, there is still the terrifying thought of being attacked by the drüskelle and losing a fight with them. That fear will only grow if they witness a magical imbalance, especially one made by their General. Your Army will work based on dread instead on loyalty, and that is dangerous, because, soon, they will grow tired of feeling this." Her light green eyes are full of worry as she looks at him deeply. "This happened a lot through the centuries, and it always ended with the leader murdered by his own people."

"I know. I searched about those historical revolutions." Her eyebrows raise in surprise to see The Darkling agreeing. "Most of them were because the monarchy prioritized the court instead of the commoners, which were the majority. Only a few people had good life conditions, while the plurality suffered with poor ones. They got sick of injustice and repression, tired of having to survive to make others live. They wanted that possibility for themselves, so, after generations had passed and nothing had been done, they decided to fight for it."

"I witnessed some revolutions and that is what happened, indeed."

"I have lived the conditions of these commoners." Kirigan admits with a heavy chest. Sometimes, he is still affected with the memories of his tough childhood. He used to eat poorly, suffer from the cold, fear the dark when the night came, train for straight exhausting hours in order to learn how to control his powers, have to make new identities in a short period of time, and pass through many other unpleasant experiences. "It was terrible."

The sudden warm hand on his cheek tells him that he is not alone, that Katherine has suffered the same as him and as the many unfortunate people that were part of revolutions. "Survival isn't life, Kirigan. But it is just when you are old that you learn that the change will only come if you fight for it. That's why your Grishas are so immersed in the Fold's utopia: their youthness makes them believe that the time has finally come, that Alina will be the savior to fix all the problems." She offers him a sad smile. "My people are old and are struggling to live in Os Alta poorest area. One of the reasons why they hate your lightscum is this, since she represents all the illusion they had once believed."

"So they are willing to fight for change?"

She nods. "With all of their strength."

"If I promise better life conditions, will an alliance be possible?"

"Only if you guarantee that you have no intentions to destroy the Unsea. Firstly, you have to win their trust, especially the leaders' trust, then you may focus on a deal."

He gently grabs her hand that still is on his cheek. "I think I'll need a bit of your assistance, then."

The witch smirks as soon as she sees the glint on his dark brown eyes. "It will be my pleasure."

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

"I swear it was her, Genya!" Michelle stops on her tracks as she hears Alina's voice echo through the room she was entering to clean.

"That's impossible."

"No, it isn't, and you know it!"

The Tailor shakes her head, making many of her red strands fly in the air. "Ms. Anya was playing a dangerous game here, Alina. The Darkling saw her as a threat and sent the oprichniki after her. She's probably dead now."

The Sun Summoner's brown eyes widened in shock. "Dead?"

"Yes." No. Michelle had to restrain a scoff. "I honestly think she was a spy."

"A spy? Really?"

"She knew too much for an ordinary otkazat'sya."

While starting to tie the room where the two Grishas were, Michelle began to make her own opinions. They aren't completely wrong: this specific servant knew too much and was considered by the General himself a threat, which led him to hunt her. However, she is pretty much alive, or better, Katherine Mikaelson is alive. No one knows what happened to Ms. Anya, she just... vanished.

"But, Genya, I swear I saw her today!" The blond's body stills as she cleans a desk. "Are you sure about that all? She seemed so real."

"There's no way Ms. Anya isn't dead, Alina. You probably were tired and hallucinated."

The younger girl looks deeply at the other, brown eyes meeting blue ones. "I know what I saw. Ms. Anya was at the beginning of the woods early this morning. She was hidden, but I saw her looking at Kirigan's chambers."

Oh, damn it, Katherine! You let yourself get caught by a teenager?! Michelle's face instantly turns into a scowl due to the anger she is feeling towards her cousin. By the Ancestors, Kat, you really turn into a fool when you like someone!

The Tailor takes a few seconds to answer her friend, but, finally, she shrugs her off with a hand. "I still think it's nothing to worry about."

I hope so, Genya, because I'm gonna kill Katherine if she drags the family into another trouble with insane plans.

The water singer leaves the Sun Summoner's chambers with heavy steps. As a way to calm herself, she goes to her little room and begins to read one of the books she had picked early in the morning. It is written in French, which eases her off with the thought of being close to her native language, and the author describes actions that may help people who are suffering with memory loss. After all, Michelle isn't certain that a spell will recover all of Agatha's remembrances.

Former lovers who had a long and healthy relationship with the victim may trigger good memories. However, the paramour must reproduce habits that were performed frequently during the time they were a couple.

Her blue eyes widened in sudden realization. There is someone that can aid them.

Of course, she didn't talk to Agatha's ex-lover for decades, but she had a good relationship with her; every Mikaelson — unless Katherine — had. The woman is a mesmerizing person and powerful witch, always willing to help the Supernatural. Michelle is sure that if she sends her a letter explaining about Agatha's current situation, the woman will appear in Os Alta in less than a day.

The water singer closes the book with a smile and immediately stands up. She needs to tell Katherine her new idea, but if her cousin takes too long to arrive, then she will handle the matter in her own hands.

With that in mind, the blond confidently states: "If there's any of Kat's shadows here, tell her to meet me at the Little Palace's library now."

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

Hours had passed, and the couple had to go back to their respective places. After Kirigan had just left with his horse, Katherine was almost entering a shadow to go to Praecantrix when she heard Ikatris' smooth voice: Your cousin wants you at the Little Palace's library now. Seemed urgent.

She frowns with the unusual situation and mentally asks the dark figure: Which one?

The spoiled French.

Despite knowing patience isn't one of Michelle's virtues, she can't help but worry, her intuition wanting to alert that something is about to happen. However, as an attempt to ignore this uncomfortable feeling, the witch rolls her light green eyes at the shadow's answer. You know their names, Ikatris. So why do you insist on calling them with these nicknames?

She can almost feel the creature smirking. Because it irritates them.

Katherine can't help but chuckle. Her cousins indeed hate all of Ikatris' nicknames and always tell her to talk to the shadow in order to make him stop, however, it never worked. He is immediately delighted as he sees Hope — manic tribid — sends him a death glare, Michelle — spoiled French — huffs in impatience, Nick — justice alpha — rolls his eyes in annoyance, Agatha — dramatic queen — holding the urge to attack him, and Levi — Kol's counterfeit copy — walking away from him to not get into a fight.

Why don't you give me a nickname too? I have never received one from you.

Because you're Katherine, there's no one like you. You are already unique.

She smiles, a warm sensation reverberating in her chest. Thank you, Ikatris.

The witch then orders her shadows to guide her to the Little Palace's library, where she finds Michelle pacing through the Norse Runes book session. She seems nervous, clenching her fingers on the long white skirt, her blond hair that is usually perfect, is now disheveled. "What happened?"

The French woman turns abruptly and looks at her in rage. "You!" She extends her hands towards the brunette as if wanting to strangle her.

Katherine frowns. "What have I done?"

"What have you—" She seems to be using all of her control to not start yelling in fury. "What have you done?!"

The shadow singer seems uncertain of her actions now. Has she found out about Malyen Oretsev? "Yes?"

"You let yourself be seen by Alina!"

The nervousness began to grow in her stomach. "What?"

"Today's morning she saw you in the beginning of the woods, looking at Kirigan's chambers. Is this true?"

Shit.

"I... I, ehm—"

"Damn it, Katherine!"

"I didn't know she was there! I was focused on a more important task!"

Michelle grabs her cousin's shoulders to make her look straight at her. "She's sure Ms. Anya isn't dead, and now I think Genya suspects that too."

The older woman shrugs as an attempt to exhale confidence in order to calm the blond down. "They don't know much, Michelle. I am sure it will do us no harm."

"You were supposed to be the responsible one who fret about things that go out of control, not me!" She lets go of the brunette and crosses her arms, a pout forming on her red lips. "I didn't enjoy this."

"Well, welcome to my life.”

"It sucks."

"I know." Katherine sighs and slowly approaches her frustrated cousin. "But I also know that you wouldn't call my shadows only to yell at me. What happened?"

Her blue eyes face the light green ones. "I have a plan that may work."

"About?"

"Agatha." She passes a hand through her long blond strands, a habit that she does when is restless. "There is someone that may trigger some of her memories, and, maybe, even help with the spell."

"That is wonderful news!"

"Yeah, but not for you."

She raises an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

The water singer looks away, averting her cousin's gaze. "I just want to know that this is the best for Agatha. I would never do anything that could harm her."

If Kathreine wasn't sure why the French woman was acting like that, now she knows: Michelle did the idea before consulting her, the brain of the family and the mastermind behind the plans. "Michelle—"

"And, maybe, I-I've become a little anxious because I haven't found Hope and it was taking too long for you to arrive."

She clenches her teeth, already predicting the enormous trouble she got themselves into. "Michelle—"

"So I took the matter in my own hands before consulting any of you and sent a letter to her."

"Michelle, who did you call?"

She gives her a nervous smile. "The brightest person in this world."

The shadow singer frowns, though her stomach is currently twisting in dread, since it seems that this someone could be a horrible person. "Who?"

"She is just so full of light, you know." Despite continuing to smile, the younger one  begins to hug herself, as if this would protect her from Katherine's reaction.

The realization sinks at the brunette's chest like an anchor. Soliel Alvarez is a light singer witch that was Agatha's paramour for half a century. She is a woman obsessed with power and very practical: get in her way and you will die. For her, time is precious, so, unless it's necessary, she doesn't waste time with torture ceremonies.

Beyond hating shadow singers for their ability to dim her glow, she also hates her own kind. According to her, light singers are people devoid of character and who do not deserve trust or loyalty. For these reasons, she feels no remorse when draining an equal; in fact, she takes satisfaction in seeing their despair as she senses the victim's power entering her veins and thus making her stronger.

For sharing the same thought as her about lightscums, Katherine doesn't hate Soliel, however, she is always careful towards the woman. After all, light singers aren't trustable. The adopted Mikaelson relationship with her is tense, and only Levi knows that his cousin slightly likes Agatha's ex-lover.

Soliel is a difficult person to deal with, someone that will always try to trick you if you aren't aware of her true nature. In other words, she is a brutalest version of the shadow singer, and Katherine isn't in her right mind to meet her. She is already worried with Agatha's cure, about her affair — is that what they have now? — with Kirigan, with Ravka's Supernatural's current situation and with the execution of the coup. Soliel here will only overwhelm her and worsen the emotional weariness she is still feeling.

"You didn't."

Michelle looks at the ground as if it was the most mesmerizing thing in life. "Her and Agatha's relationship was so healthy and ended so well. They're still friends and see each other sometimes!"

The British woman can feel her breathing fasten. "Please tell me you are lying."

"And the book said that a good ex-lover can help on triggering memories, so—"

"Oh, Michelle!"

"—Soliel's coming to Ravka."

Everything stops. The air in her lungs, the frustration, the racing thoughts in her mind and the nervous twisting in her stomach are all gone. Suddenly, the forces in her entire body disappear too. Soon, her clear vision is replaced by the dark and she falls on the floor.

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Series Masterlist (Ongoing)

Pairing: Aleksander Moroza x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Summary: Alyra Koshkova has always lived in the shadows, concealing her true nature to survive. But when tragedy forces her into the heart of Ravka's Second Army, she finds herself under the watchful eye of General Kirigan, the Darkling—a man as enigmatic as he is powerful. Struggling to come to terms with her newfound role, Alyra must navigate a world of hidden threats and dangerous alliances. As secrets unravel and the Darkling’s intentions grow ever more unclear, Alyra’s choices could reshape the fate of a nation—or lead to her own undoing.

Read on A03

Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Language, Depictions of Violence, War, Political Intrigue, Horror Elements, The Darkling has a Heart, Grisha!OC, Grisha Sympathetic, Alcohol, The Darkling was right about a lot of things

Chapter List (Ongoing):

I. Drüsje

II. The Wolves, The Sheep

III. The Ties that Bind

IV. The Rock and the Hard Place

V. The Black General

[kasagia]

Second Waltz

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! inferni! reader Summary: For the Winter Fete, you were supposed to waltz with your friend the tidemaker and at the same time use your Grishas' power to entertain the king, queen and all the other self-righteous nobles. In your wildest dreams, you wouldn't have thought you'd end up dancing with General Kirigan... Nonsense from me: So I saw the post of @angellovelyasfck and got inspired... Warning(s): Darkling is a simp for reader; nobody knows why; he is so in love; matching kefta; author have no idea about dancing, but try to write about it; the reader is afraid of him but drawn to him, like a moth to the fire; Aleksander is a mastermind; Words count: 3,2k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You looked like a real lady.

If Grishas could be ladies-in-waiting, be respected in Ravka, and have a position of nobility, then women would probably wear such dresses.

You didn't like parties organised by the royal family… well… except for the possibility of eating sweets prepared by royal chefs. It was the only thing that made up for the fact that you and the other Grishas were entertaining the king and his people.

Your powers were displayed as an attraction, a means of entertainment, and while some of you enjoyed the attention they were receiving at the time, others equally abhorred the idea of entertaining Otkazat'sya.

The winter fete was supposed to be like any other for you. You'll put on your festive kefta, sip a sneak peek of champagne, and munch on sweets with your friends.

But it wasn't supposed to be. Because someone figured out that the inferni and the tidemaker will waltz this year using their powers at the same time. Something about a poetic combination of opposites that unite in dance.

Because of this, you stood in the Grand Palace ballroom, looking anxiously around the room as you straightened your dress.

"Nervous?" a soft voice came from behind you. You turned around, sighing in relief, when you saw Genya.

"A little." you admit, calming down as she runs her hand through your hair and smooths the strands of your hair that have managed to come out of the updo she made for you. "I'm a soldier, not a dancer or lady."

Genya giggles. "In this dress, many would disagree with you. You look beautiful even without my touch-ups."

You are blushing. She made sure that you looked… just not like you tonight.

Genya has outdone herself. The dress was blue, sleeveless and strapless, and it went all the way down to the floor. In combination with a blue coat imitating an inferni kefta and a golden belt engraved with the symbol of the Second Army, you looked phenomenal.

Like a Grishas' princess...

"You're only saying this, because you are the one who made that dress."

"Well, it's very obvious." she teases you and taps you lightly on the shoulder. You both giggle, amused.

Suddenly, a ball of fire flashes between you. It misses your head by only a few inches. You wrinkle your nose and send the inferni who shot you a fireball an angry glare. Nobody does anything about it, the fire show continues as if nothing happened.

"What was that?" Genya asks, seeing your exchange of glances with the woman.

"Inferni affairs. Warkov is sent to go through the fold again. She resents that I haven't been there yet, and she's already gone four times. It's not my fault that the general has an aversion to me for some reason, and instead of using my powers in a good way, I have to do… this." you say in disgust, pointing at the dress. You clench your fists at your sides. "I can do more, Genya. I could help our people in fighting or in a battle… but instead, I'm stuck in this damn palace making playthings for the nobility." you add more quietly, making sure only she can hear you.

Genya sighs, looking at you. She strokes your cheek with her thumb, where you have a bit of icing from the cookie you ate earlier.

"I know what you mean. Trust me." you give her a sad look and squeeze her hand. She gives you a small smile. " But believe me… the general has his reasons for keeping you here." before you can say anything to respond or even ask what she means, you see her waving her hand, calling someone. David joins you, smiling at you two. You watch with interest as he steals glances at Genya. "Speaking of the general… there's been a slight change of plans."

"What? What do you mean?" you ask, confused, as you look from one to the other. You tense up at the mere mention of the general.

Suddenly the blue of your dress gives way to a deep, terrifying black. Only General Kirigan could wear this colour, as the only Shadow summoner, Darkling, descended from the Black Heretic. Panicked, you shift your gaze between Genya and David, hoping that this sudden change of colour won't bring you anyone's attention.

"Nya, Dav… it's black. Why did you turn it into black?" you become more and more uneasy when people around you notice the colour you wear.

It's official. General Kirigan will throw you to the volcras for such a disrespectful act.

"Your tidemaker friend was sent on... an important mission." David explains the sudden change of plans.

"What? But we were supposed to dance..." you say, surprised, but Genya cuts you off before you start panicking more about the absence of your friend, with whom you've been practicing this damn waltz and fire and water choreography for months.

"You will dance with the general."

After the red-haired girl utters this sentence, there is a long silence on your part, interrupted by the sounds of other inferni summoning fire. You freeze, completely shocked, refusing to believe that Genya meant what she said. It will be a pure disaster.

"No." you say, shaking your head.

Waltzing with a black general who, for some reason, doesn't recognise your presence in his army wasn't on your to-do list. Not today or ever. You feared this man more than anyone. And whatever you did to him to make him disapprove of your existence and the amount of power that lies dormant within you, you didn't want to be near him to test him even more and risk making him angry.

"Y/N." a woman snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Genya, please no. He hates me. I don't know why, but because of him, I can't do anything useful with my power. I'll step on his toes, and he'll hate me even more. He would kick me out of the Little Palace, and our evenings in the palace kitchen and secret chocolate snacking would be over."

"You eat chocolate without me?" asks a surprised and hurt David, oblivious to the growing panic and desperation inside of you. You can't dance with the general. This will end terribly.

"I'm going with you to stargaze outside the palace grounds. There's one one, David. Which doesn't change the fact that my death is imminent and none of you want to help me."

"For the love of the saints, Y/N, general won't kill you. It is just a dance. Put a smile on your face and try your best, I know you can do it and control yourself."

"What if I set him on fire? Saints, they will hang me for killing the only living Darkling."

"You were right; she is worse than me." David whispers, not quite subtly, to Genya while you're still panicking. You stop and look at him indignantly before answering in complete seriousness.

"I've heard that."

"Good. Now don't panic, the general is coming here." Genya takes David's arm and they run away from you, both discussing something lively.

However, before your brain processes the information and reacts defensively, by running away from where you are standing (preferably to the palace kitchen), you feel his presence behind you.

"Miss Y/L/N." you shiver when you hear his deep voice behind you.

"General." you reply in an unemotional military tone and turn to him after you swallow and calm down a bit.

"I see you already know about... a little change of plans." he says, nodding at your outfit. Only now are you painfully aware that you are facing the Black General, wearing his colors. May the saints receive your poor soul. "Genya and David did wonderful work." he adds. You have a bit of trouble swallowing and keeping your voice steady, but you finally manage to reassure yourself for a moment that you can at least pretend to be cool to the general.

"I... thank you, general... that's all their work." you say, trying to justify your appearance—wearing his colours when he's the only one who can wear them. However... he doesn't seem angry or crazy... and if you were dumber, you'd think he appreciates how good you look in black.

His dark eyes watch you carefully from top to bottom. You feel strange under his watchful gaze, unable to read any emotion from his face. He lingers a little longer on your body before meeting your eyes again.

"Shall we?" he asks, offering you his arm like a true gentleman. You dare not refuse him, so you nod your head and try to control the trembling of your hands as you slip your hand into the crook of his elbow. He leads you both further into the centre of the ballroom. You may notice that the infernis' show is about to end. "You will do everything as in rehearsals. I'll adjust my shadows to your fire to make it look as coherent as possible."

"Yes, general." you nod to him, having no idea how he wants to combine your fire and his shadows. But you have other problems on your mind now.

Like the hateful glare from Warkov. She's brave enough to 'accidentally' send another small fireball your way. Only your quick reflexes keep you from getting burned. The general looks at you, intrigued. But you pay no attention to him, too busy fighting to look at the inferni who hates you. The Darkling notices this and looks at the woman carefully. And if you looked at him, you'd see him nod to Ivan in Warkov's direction with a clear sign of investigating the matter between the two of you.

Inferni show ends. Your heart is beating like crazy with stress, knowing that now you will have to dance with the general. The darkling gives you a half-smile at your nervousness and grabs your hand as you both head to the center. He stands in front of you and, without letting go of your hand, says:

"We can find a light in the darkness… but not only from the sun or moon. But from something that we have around us that is as dangerous and unpredictable as it is beautiful and mesmerizing. Light isn't the only thing that dispels darkness. It is also the fire."

And with this, he joined hands, plunging the ballroom into complete darkness. The orchestra begins to play the melody you know, to which you have spent bloody hours learning the steps and memorising the moments when you are supposed to summon fire.

Only this time, it's not just going through the steps. No. This time, you feel something. Strange electricity as the general puts his hand on your waist and grabs your hand, pulling you closer than necessary. You begin to move around the room.

You light up the two of you with your fire, making you the only people visible in the dark room. And for some strange reason, you can't take your eyes off the general's dark irises, which stare at you as if they want to pierce your soul. His eyes glow from the flames of fire you let out, making it even harder to look away from him.

At one point, he takes away his shadows. The two of you are in full view, as is the crowd around you, but all you can look at is each other. His shadows travel with your fire, enhancing its brilliance.

You don't even notice when you start making your own modifications to the fire choreography, letting the balls and flames dance around the tiny shadows the general casts. You feel like all you can think about is a man holding you in his arms and watching you intently as if you were the only person in the whole world.

At one point, you are so overwhelmed by his gaze that you look away from him to the fire that is circling around you. You pull away from him slightly, so you don't rub against each other with every stop. You wonder why the general trusts you with enough power to dance with you so close to the fire but won't let you leave the walls of the Little Palace.

His hand on your waist pushes you gently back towards him, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turn your surprised look towards him.

"I don't bite, little flame… not unasked." he takes the opportunity to whisper in your ear. It takes your breath away for a moment. You wonder what the hell happened to him.

For the first time, you enjoy the hot fire around you… at least it's a way to explain to people why you blush lightly in his arms.

He spins you around, and as you land in his arms again, you notice that the colour of his kefta has changed with the heat of your fire. The black threads that decorate his kefta turn red. Your jaw would drop if you were alone.

You feel his hands on you more and more, despite how much material you have on you. The intensity of his gaze warms you more than the flames that dance with you around the two of you.

You don't know why his presence affects you so much. You don't know where the fear you felt before has gone. All you can do is let him guide you as he holds you securely in his arms and draws you close to him. Looking into his dark eyes makes all thoughts in your head disappear. It's just you and him.

And only the saints know how you manage to keep summoning fire without burning the two of you.

To your relief, the waltz comes to an end. However, instead of letting go of your waist and grabbing your hand to turn you around, Kirgan lets go of your hand. He lifts you with one arm around your waist and spins you around, keeping you close to him.

You melt in his arms. If you didn't know what it was about the attention he gave you before, you were completely lost now, feeling his strong muscles all around you. Your heart was beating like wildfire, and your cheeks were even hotter.

And a careful observer would have noticed how your fire got fed off by the general's sudden movement. And Kirigan was a very careful observer. So he gave you a quick, cheeky, smug smirk.

Your behaviour did not escape Genya and Fedyor. They looked at each other knowingly and whispered something conspiratorially to each other before Ivan hushed them.

Kirigan has put you safely on the ground. Flames and shadows disappeared around you. People started clapping. You were about to run from the middle of the room when a strong grip on your hand stopped you. The general leaned over and kissed your hand, not taking his eyes from you for even a moment.

You hold your breath and blush even more. His beard gently tickles your hand. The general's lips gently caress your skin, and you can't help but imagine how they would feel somewhere else...

The general reluctantly releases your hand and strokes it with his thumb. "I'm looking forward to the next dance, little flame." he whispers, so only you can hear him.

He releases your hand and walks away from you. You suddenly miss his closeness and the intoxicating scent of his perfume… but you're not distracted enough to sneak out of the ballroom at the first chance you get.

Your hand burns pleasantly where his mouth was a moment ago. And for the first time since you arrived at the Little Palace, you're looking forward to the next winter fete.

You went to the balcony to get some rest. The cool night air hits your skin. You lean against the railing and stare at the ground in front of you. You have a perfect view of the Little Palace from here.

You close your eyes and enjoy the night air. Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you. And loud footsteps make you realize that the general is specifically alerting you to his presence. You know if he wanted to, he'd sneak up on you silently.

You turn around and lean against the railing. "General." your soft whisper echoes across the balcony so clearly that the loud music doesn't prevent him from hearing you.

"Captain Y/L/N." he replies, taking a step towards you. He is standing next to you, looking at the terrain in front of you. "You are a good dancer." he praises you without looking at you.

"Thank you, General, but you were the one who mainly led our dance."

"Then let me appreciate that you never stepped on my toes. Believe me, it's a great feat; I've danced too many times not to know it." you can't help but giggle at his words. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him staring at you. He turns to you and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "The way you manipulate fire... how you guide it, create shapes, and intensify the flame at will... few can do what you do. Rarely do I see such self-awareness and composure in an Inferni."

"However, I am not fit enough to use my powers anywhere other than within the walls of the Palace." you say before you can think it over. You're biting your tongue too late. Now all you can do is watch him, hoping he won't punish you for making such a bold accusation against him.

"You must forgive me, little flame… it's all my selfishness." he says tenderly, completely confusing you.

"What?"

"Let me show you." he says, and before you can ask anything else, he leans in and kisses you.

His hand on your cheek and lips, which caresses yours so tenderly, warms you better than any fire you could summon. You lean into his touch and feel yourself melting with every tactical, combined movement of his mouth and hand. You could control the flames… but he could do much more than just control the shadows. He played you perfectly.

At the moment, you were enjoying it more than you were worried.

Much to your displeasure, he moved away from you. He stroked your cheek with his thumb and whispered. "I can't wait to dance with you again." he licked his lips, looking at your own. His gaze came back to your eyes. "You look lovely in black, by the way." he adds, before wishing you good night and walking away like nothing happened.

Of course, before he left the balcony door, he gave you one last mischievous look. And standing there, warm from his kiss alone, with red cheeks and tingling lips, you knew he did it on purpose... that he made you want more.

The next day, you are forced to wear your blue kefta again. You would never think that wearing his colours would be so pleasant. Neither that the inferni who hated you and rebelled other people against you will be permanently moved to Kribirsk... or that you'll wake up in a room filled with your favourite flowers and an invitation to dinner with the general.

Maybe the waltzes weren't so bad after all.

[cas-backwards-tie]

⟡ shadow & bone masterlist ⟡

general kirigan

--series--

the darkling's secret weapon | [Female OC] Forced to marry the General of the Second Army as a way of guaranteeing a peace treaty between Ravka and Fjerda, Samantha's thrown into much more than she'd anticipated. Determined to heal the rift between Grisha and Otkazat'sya, she puts her plan into action.

[call-sign-shark]

Echo of Shadows || Masterlist

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!OCreader || Alina Starkov x Heartrender!OCreader || Malyen Oretsevx HeartRender!OCreader

Summary: "They called her the White Plague, a saint or a monster—but she was neither, only destruction wrapped in a pretty bow."

In Ravka's frosty heart, the legend of the White Plague spreads—a woman with snow-white hair, frozen-fire eyes, and powers that rival those of Jurda Parem. Once a slave in the Menagerie, the one who calls herself Heaven is now a myth, either leaving towns in ruins or former disease-ridden people crying with gratitude. A Sankta.

General Kirigan's interest soon turns dark and his desire obsessive. Never had he been so captivated and haunted by someone. Someone he could finally share his eternal life with. Caught in a cruel game of power and love, she's torn between Kirigan’s corrupting passion and Alina Starkov’s promise of freedom.

Amidst the chaos, one question arises: will she become a savior, a monster, or something far more dangerous?

TW: Explicit sexual content, slow burn, borderline consent, heavy pinning, toxic relationship [manipulation, obsession, extreme jealousy, controlling behavior], graphic sexual description, graphic depiction of murder and torture, blood!kink, size!kink, radioactive couple, codependency, reference to past SA and child SA, dark romance & mad romance trope, ambiguous relationship with Alina. This story is brutal, bloody and rated +18.

ACT I: A BURNING LIMERENCE

1. Keep Moving, Little Girl

2. Their Frozen Shackles

3. The Court of Shadows

4. The Fear Within

5. Beneath his Watchful Eyes 🔞

6. Until Nothing is Left

7. Dangerous

8. Blood and Honey

9. Gazed Into the Abyss, It Gazed Back Into Me 🔞

10. Raw

11 Burn Your Village 🔞

13. Light of my Life.

14. My Night and Stars. 🔞

ACT II. RAPTURE OF THE DEEP

Queen of Spades

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Light

Like a Feeling of Déjà Vue

Blinding Light

I was Made for Loving You, Baby 🔞

It's in Our Veins

Your Darkness Flayed 🔞

After the Storm, the Sun

Safe in the Dark 🔞

Paint Me Black 🔞

Golden Cage for a Pretty Bird

Your Heart, My Chains

Good Ending? You Haven't Been Paying Attention

ACT III. THE CALL OF THE VOID

The Assasymphony

Never You

Barbwire Kiss🔞

It Has Always Been You 🔞

I'm Not Ruined. I'm Ruination.

Here Comes the Wolves

Your Love is an Open Wound 🔞

The Starless Saint of Broken Hearts

The Mask of the Red Death

Candy-Coated Suicide

Symphony of Our Ruins

Epilogue: Eternal Eclipse

ONE SHOTS

Much Ado About Jam Toasts- fun & fluff

A Dangerous White Tigress - action, Hurt/Comfort

Away From the Deep Shadow

Damaged

MODERN AU*

Mental Health Is Sexy Masterlist

*Amos is Aleksander's modern identity.

GAME OF THRONES AU

Damaged Masterlist

*Amos is Aleksander.

VISUALS

Light in the Dark

"Call me Aleksander" - trailer by the beloved @elizabethblood9

My Night and Stars

ASK

Modern!Aleksander x Heaven for Christmas

Notes:

☾ I haven't read the books so this work is based on the TV show even though I know it's fairly different from the original Grisha verse. If you're an adorable lore psycho, you might not want to read that! :(

☾ Taglist: @lunawants , @emtaz-art, @lightinbug, @kmc1989, @thepassionatereader @mystic-mara @m-riaa @kallista-diune @meadows5 @kasagia @watersquirtpewpewboomm @the-sweet-psycho @sarahsobsession @elizabethblood9 @ritzzzzz @sophialeiros @noortsshift @sassyvilliantrope @sherwoodforesttales

[elizabethblood9]

Me with Aleksander's versions of @call-sign-shark and @kasagia 🧎🏻‍♀️

[luxuriouscharms]

I can’t help but love you (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader)

Pairing: The Darkling x Special Grisha!reader

Universe: The Grishaverse/Shadow and bone

Summary: He realises he’s in love with you and so do you.

Key note: Please play the listed songs for better experience. Also the striked words are the songs to be played, if followed, a better experience is assured.

Songs:  1. Cinnamon Girl (Lana Del Rey) 2. Cherry (Lana Del Rey) 3. War of Hearts [Acoustic] (Ruelle)

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cinnamon girl

The room was filled with people, laughing, talking and enjoying themselves. She moved a dirty blonde strip of her hair from her face and looked around. This was all familiar in a new way. A  way she has never been in. Maybe the punishment to her sins aren’t that bad if this is it. She took a glass of wine and sipped it slowly taking in the details of the room. The music changed into a slow one and she noticed people getting into couples, women having one of their hands on the shoulders of men and the other in their upper arm.  

“Excuse-me, ma’am” she heard a masculine voice next to her. She turned to look at a man, atleast 4 inches taller than her, his brown hair slicked back neatly smiling at her.

“May I help you,” she responded back in the best “elegant” voice she could. This new cover has been quite the task for her, as being an elegant woman was the exact opposite she was told to do her whole life.

“It would quite please me if I could have this dance with you,” he told her, raising his hand, asking for her permission.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but i’ve never danced before,” she said him her truth as her lips went into a thin line.

“Well, that will have to change tonight,” he smiled and took her hand in his and placed her other one in her shoulder as he slowly led her to the dance floor.

“Oh well, as long as you dont charge me for the damage i cause in your legs,” she shrugged as she gave a playful smile and let him lead her.

Now, who would not love such a punishment. It was true that she had never danced before, she never had the chance. She doubts most Grisha gets the chance to, afterall they grow up being taught to protect and fight. She smiled at where she was now but soon it had to be ruined as people heard screams outside the room. The music muffled the noise but it was still audible to hear them.

She froze as she looked at outside of the building. It was getting darker and darker every second and it could only mean one thing.

He was back.

Soon, the room darkened and a figure came through the shadows. Everyone knew who it was, it was The Darkling. The same man who destructed many families of people in the very same room. Of hers too.

cherry

She looked at his arising form with mixed emotions in her eyes. He came out of the dark and searched around the room when his eyes finally met hers. His grey orbs then skimmed to her hands that were on top of the man next to her. Her quick instinct was to take them off him making the man responsible for her reactions smirk. He looked around once more and swiftly moved his hands, she realised what he was doing and screamed, “No.” as her eyes widened.

In a swift move, her hands moved in a V shape and a shield arise from her hands shielding the whole room from his dark presence. He was moved back in a gush of air due to the excess use of power as his hands shielded his face.  He looked back at her and said,

“This is the only way to do it, remove the shield and we shall disappear.” His statement rang through her ears as she fumed at him. He had the audacity to do this just after killing millions and making her having to disguise herself for his consequences.

“I can erase their memory of our presence.” She stated as she looked into his eyes. His eyes searched hers in amusement and soon his lips broke into a playful yet proud smile as he questioned,

“You can do that now, huh? Well the make it fast, we’ve got places to be and things to discuss.”

She looked at him one last time before moving her hands, as green light broke out of her palms, her eyes emitting a bright shade of green. Soon, everyone in the room fell down into a slumber except for herself and the dark presence across her. He took a look around him as he strolled closer to her,

“What did you do,” he asked looking into her eyes as he came closer than he should but it wasn’t new for her.

“A litte trick that i learned a few weeks ago,” she told him looking back at his eyes. He look at her and sighed.

He took a strand of her hair falling on her face and said,

“That’s not what i asked. What did u do to your hair.”

Realisation swimmed in her eyes and she caught his arm and snatched it away from her face, from her now blonde hair.

“A consequence of your actions.” She stated glaring at his eyes. His eyes moved as he looked at hers and he stepped back,

“You look absolutely gorgeous, but put my colour back on” He whispered before starting to move towards “the places they have to be”.

She looked at his walking figure and remembered the pitch black hair she once had. Something about it always made him feel superior, one of the reasons she loved having to colour her hair to disguise herself. Especially when she could simply do it and blame it on him.

She slowly strolled behind him forgetting the life she had just a few minutes earlier. What else could be done for he is here now.

As soon as she skipped to his pace, his hands moved in a swift motion as darkness engulfed them both. They both were now in a place that looked like a hut but with better interior. She looked out the window and say darkness and shadows of creatures walking around, screeching and flying.  She realised where they were and her voice was caught in her throat. If her little trick was amazing this was terrific, both in a huge and a bad way.

“Who was it.” She turned to him, her eyes confused as she watched him remove his coat.

“Who’s who.” She questioned back at him as her brows formed into a frown. He looked up at her and murmured slowly, “The guy you were with.” Her gaze turned more confused at his sudden interest.

“A gentleman who was willing to teach me how to slow dance,” she said.

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

“Not long enough for me to actually learn it, because you just had to interrupt,” she said coldly to him.

He chuckled at her as his head went low and back again to looking at her.

“Well why don’t you spend some more time with him for a while,” he asked at her smiling.

She frowned more in confusion as he continued,

“Surely, you can still get into you fantasy lands right.” he said.

She looked down for a moment and realised he was referring to her ability to reimagine realities. She can imagine herself in clouds while simply sitting in her bed. She slowly looked up at him and saw his hand raised towards her. She hesitated for a minute but her heart did not as her hand reached on top of his palm. Within the blink of her eye, they were outside among the monsters he created out of shadows. He noticed at her wary look and said,

“They will be of no disturbance,” She turned to look at him and asked, “what about the musics.”

He smiled, as his other hand removed the wooden stick that had her hair in a neat bun, making her hair flow down, like she usually had her hair when it was black and placed his hand on her hips bringing her closer as he whispered,

“Why don’t you bring the very same one you were listening to,” His eyes moved in a quick movement looking into hers, wanting to take in both her emerald ones.

war of hearts (acoustic)

She closed her eyes as he lowered his head, making both their foreheads to meet. Soon, slow piano flowed  into their ears and his legs started to lead both their legs.

“Come to me in the night hours

I will wait for you”

Never once did his eyes leave hers even when they were closed. She slowly opened her eyes and tried to put herself into the fantasy land where the very same man she owns a deep hatred in her heart would be that man that managed to steal her eyes even if it’s only for seconds.

“Thoughts of you consume”

But it was not happening. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him no matter how much she tried.  She couldn’t go back to that ball, to that man. They both remained dancing, even though surrounded by darkness and monsters they were still captivated into each other’s souls, their eyes being the doorway…

“I can’t help but love you,

even though I try not to”

Her eyes skimmed through the scars in his face, an aftermath. He was in pain, she could see it. His head was crippling in pain, a pain as a consequence of consumption of power beyond one should hold. A pain that can only be cured by more absorption of the very same darkness he holds.

“Stay with me, a little longer”

She was scared of what she was doing while he was fooled that she was being in fantasies of another man while dancing with him. The eyes of her held empathy, he convinced himself it was not for him and that she wasn’t looking at him. But something in his heart craved for the look in her eyes, the eyes that held so much light in them, ironic to what he was.

“Oh, oh, oh”

As every second passed, his pain suppressed through the music. For a second he thought it was the music healing it but when he looked at her glowing eyes, he realised it was her doing. Unconsciously, she was holding his pain back which made him realise she wasn’t in her fantasies and was very much present in the moment with him. “What did you do.” He asked her, as his pain was nothing but a memory now.

“A consequence of my mistake,” she stated.

“I can’t help but love you, even though I try not to”

His walls broke, as his eyes opened the doorway and gave a peek of his soul to her. The shattered one, terribly shattered than his face. He realised that he had let his guard down and regained his composure, stopping his legs from moving to the music. Their eyes, never leaving each others was now holding an intense look. A stubborn one, an interaction they would have never imagined with each other.

Just for once, he craved her. He craved her eyes to look at him the same way, their intertwined hands to be stitched together. He craved for him to be able to touch more of her and for the first time he was greedy for something that wasn’t power and it made him fear for what shall come next. For what she was made of.

“I can’t help but want oceans to part

Because i’m overcome this war of hearts”

[cookies-and-music]

Greed They both suck. At least they found eachother.

Implied violence.

Anya was an orphan, raised in a traveling company. As a child, lacking any talent, she collected offerings from the audience and learned to pickpocket.

When she was 12, a fortune teller joined the company, elegant in appearance, with a face that maintained austere beauty. She posed as a grand lady, teaching Anya to walk and move with lightness, to eat with refinement and to smile with grace.

Anya observed the noblewomen of the cities, with their extravagant dresses, eccentric hats, and sparkling jewels, and thought that such things would suit her better. Meanwhile, she ate chunks of stale bread.

Anya learned to play and sing, starting her own performances and making her own money.

At the age of 14, Anya asked the fortune teller to read her future. The fortune teller had taken a candle and placed it between them. Anya watched the flame move between them, drawn first to one side and then the other.

"You will be rich, as you desire," She assured her. "You will be surrounded by splendor and have much power, but for every day you spend happy, twice as many sad days will follow."

Anya stopped listening when she mentioned power. Happiness meant little to her. In the end, it was a relative concept, different for everyone; for her, happiness would be wealth.

"How do I obtain it?"

"You must follow a knight clad in black with a serpent's tongue."

[] [] [] [] []

At the age of 16, Anya heard that a group of knights from the second army had arrived in the city where they were performing. In small towns, everyone got nervous about such news; anyone with even a tiny secret feared that the soldiers had come for them.

She felt the same fear while performing on the small stage in the town square, when the soldiers stopped to applaud her song. She smiled in the sweetest and most innocent way she knew while continuing to perform.

Then she saw him. The man in black.

He didn't clap and he didn't smile.

The man in black returned every day at the same time.

Anya performed, and he sat on his horse, watching her.

On the fourth day, Anya made a switch. She let another one of her sideshow companions take her place on stage, and she moved through the crowd with the offering basket.

The man in black furrowed his brow, expecting to see the malnourished girl with the battered guitar. He dismounted.

"An offering for the show, sir?"

He lowered his gaze, finding her in front of him. She was short, with big eyes and curly brown hair framing her face.

He didn't give her more than a glance and tossed a few coins.

"Why are you in town, sir?" She tried to catch his attention.

"Crown matters." He crossed his arms.

"What kind?"

"Private." The man in black grabbed the horse's reins and began moving through the crowd.

Anya handed the basket to one of the kids in the company, watching him pass behind her from the corner of her eye.

"I've seen you here often. Do you like my show?" She pursued him.

"I don't come here for that."

"Then for what?"

He stopped, turning to look at her. Anya smiled. He observed her face for a moment before getting back on his horse.

"Have a good day, Miss," he wished her before leaving, parting the frightened crowd.

[] [] [] [] []

Anya spent the rest of the day asking around about the knights and the reason for their presence. At first, she heard there was someone in town with a heavy bounty on their head; then, they were looking for someone missing but not a criminal. Some said it was the son of a noble, and others claimed it was the missing daughter of the tsars. The latter sounded absurd, but most people insisted it was true.

Many young women presented themselves at the tavern where the soldiers resided, claiming to be the missing princess of the tsars. Anya saw the line extending outside. She shook her head; this was madness.

The tavern had only one entrance and thus one exit the soldiers could use. She saw the line move throughout the afternoon until darkness fell. In the evening, the remaining girls were sent home, and from the door emerged him, the man in black.

Anya rose from the filthy street floor and gestured, "Sir!"

He turned for a moment, sighed, and began walking faster.

Anya chased him until standing in front of him.

"I know why you're here." She reached out a hand between them, as if to stop him. "And please, listen to me."

He crossed his arms.

"I know why you always came to my show," Anya took a breath. "It's because I resemble the tsaritsa, isn't it?"

The man furrowed his brow.

"I have eyes and hair of the same color, the same height—"

"The tsaritsa is much taller."

"I can wear heels."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"You know you're not the tsar's daughter, right?"

"But I could be," Anya straightened up. "I'm the same age the princess would be today, just an orphan raised on the streets, I have no past, which means I can be anything."

"And you would be willing to do anything because you have no future."

She nodded, finding nothing wrong with it.

"Clearly, you seem very determined to find this girl; you'll gain something you ardently desire, otherwise, you wouldn't spend your time searching for a needle you're not even sure exists in such a large haystack."

He stared at her.

"By choosing me, you secure whatever has been promised; otherwise, you could spend years searching the country for someone likely dead, achieving nothing".

They looked into each other's eyes. Anya thought that his were darker than the alley they were in; while Kirigan thought that it could work. And if something went wrong, he could claim he had been deceived.

"You can call me Kirigan." He reached out a hand to her.

"Anya." She shook it with a smile.

"Well, Miss Anya, it seems you and I have an agreement." Kirigan leaned down towards her. "But if one day you regret it, remember that you came to seek me."

She nodded, swallowing, more due to the proximity to the man than his words. She immediately withdrew her hand.

"Tomorrow morning at dawn, we leave."

She nodded again, wrapping herself in her cloak as she walked in the opposite direction.

"Oh, and Miss Anya," Kirigan called her one last time, remaining fixed in the shadows of the alley, "make sure your friends in the company don't become an obstacle for us in the future."

Anya took a deep breath, nodding as she kept her gaze low.

She knew he was right.

[] [] [] [] []

During the night, Kirigan was awakened by a huge commotion and the city bells ringing.

When he reached the center of the town following the crowd, he saw a massive fire engulfing the wagons and tents of the traveling company.

He grabbed the arm of one of his associates, a Tidemaker who had come to help.

"Are there any survivors?"

"Only one, sir, the young one there." The Grisha pointed. "She was the one who raised the alarm."

Kirigan nodded, letting her go.

A few meters away, Anya met his gaze, wrapped in a blanket that someone had brought for her. She looked at him with tear-streaked but totally expressionless, stoic face. In that moment, Kirigan understood that he had made the right choice.

Kindred spirits are indeed drawn together

Hi everybody, this is a one-shot that could become the first of a collection, depending on how it goes. It's a sort of AnastasiaAU (?) but not really, you deciede. English is not my first language, so please do tell me if there are any mistakes.

[mythsha]

chapter 1

Summary: Does past define someone, or perhaps what they were born as? Everyone looked at Alina Starkov as if she was the answer to all their questions. But Alina felt that Kyra Kozlov was the answer to all her problems. Kyra was a mystery, a powerful Grisha, and somehow she started to be the sun summoner's home too.

Kyra always heard whispers but for once they weren't about her presence;  the grisha had found a new topic to talk about; the hallways were flooded with talks of a summoner who could call the sun.

Kyra yet hadn't met the summoner, but felt pity for the girl knowing how pestering grisha can be if they wanted to be. Maybe that's why she opted to serve at the country's borders away from the little palace.

She had arrived at the little palace only days before the sun summoner; and though it had been only two weeks she already wanted to leave the little palace. She wasn't close with many grisha and the ones she knew were either in the front lines or in the darkling's inner circle. She kept her distance from the latter, having enough of political matters.

Usually she would be by the lake, teaching and supervising the training tidemakers or in her room sitting at her desk with piles of paper. Yes, she had declared she hated political matters but being a grisha of her rank, she had no choice but to manage the issues in the borders. Hey, at least they were far better than the atrocious things the king's advisers suggest the general.

A book was open in her lap, the words glaring at her for her attention but her focus was on touching the edges of the book lost deep in thought. She had been sitting like that for a long time since she had wandered the halls and settled in the library after dinner. The footfalls of someone and a soft hushed voice got her to glance up from the book. Turning to look she figured it was someone behind the bookshelf possibly searching for a book.

Indulging into the book again she failed to sooth the glare the words had set upon her; she got up to leave placing the book on the bookshelf where it belongs. Rounding the corner of the bookshelf she spotted the person she heard before, it was a girl and by the colour of her kefta she was an etherealki.

The girl muttered something under her breath when she couldn't reach the book on the shelf, pulling her hands down she moved away from the shelf not yet noticing Kyra standing. When the girl disappeared from Kyra's sight she moved towards the book the etherealki was  trying to reach and grabbed it with much ease spying at the cover; it was a book about ravkan folklore. Hearing a thud Kyra saw the girl again now with a stool by her feet a defeated look on her face. It took a moment for Kyra to realise what the girl must have thought, she took her book. 

Kyra smiled stepping towards the girl extending the book towards her. The girl eyed it for a moment a took it, giving a slight nod.

"Ravkan folklore?" Kyra offered to the girl who looked increasingly uncomfortable. really? ravkan folklore?

"Something wrong with it?" Dark brown eyes stared up at her. Kyra now took notice of the embroidery in the girl's kefta- Saints, this was the sun summoner. 

"No, there's nothing wrong with it. It is good book, a lot of illustrations;" pointing towards the book, " A lot of hidden meaning are expressed beautifully in the illustrations."

The girl hummed, she looked pretty relaxed now but there was a bit of stiffness in her shoulders as if she were alert for some danger. Kyra lifted her hands, as if in surrender "Relax, I'm not going to bite you;" her words ending with a chuckle, "I'm Kyra Kozlov, if you're up for introductions?" Kyra offered her hand forward.

"Alina Starkov" the girl accepted Kyra's hand, a truce of sorts to whatever was going on. Alina shrugged her shoulders, "I-I just didn't realise anyone was in the library other then me" She slightly tilted her head, smiling.

"Well I apologise then, I didn't expect anyone to be in the library at this hour either; grisha usually don't linger by the library after dinner" Kyra moved away from Alina reaching for another book on the shelf. "This one, Miss Starkov;"  She tapped at the worn cover, "Is also really good. Similar genre" 

Alina reached forward, running her fingers over the cover. "Thanks Miss Kozlov, I sure will read it" looking up at Kyra, she gently took the book from her hands. "It's alright, and Kyra is enough" Kyra's eyes followed her hands watching the gold threads by her kefta's reflect the soft light.

"Only if you call me Alina, Kyra" she shifted her arms positioning the two books more comfortable, raising her eyebrow

"Then as you wish, Alina" Kyra whispered leaning against the shelf, drawling her name.

Alina felt heat creeping up her neck at that, huffing a small laugh,"I- better get going. Good night Kyra" Alina muttered, nodding towards the library doors and kind of hurrying towards it.

"Sweet dreams then!" Kyra called after the girl. Well she met the sun summoner. Kyra's eyes moved to the window, it wasn't that late and she nothing to do. Why not have an early night as well?

chapter 2 sankta masterlist