#The Darkling x OC

[kasagia]

I'll be back for you

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x reader, Kaz Brekker x reader Summary: The Moon Summoner ran away with Alina from the Little Palace with the help of Kaz Brekker's crows. The group successfully escaped from Darkling's hands, but that doesn't mean he will forget about his Y/N. He's going to chase her until she is in his arms again. However, Mr. Brekker did not let his childhood friend disappear without a trace from his life again. He will protect her. For all costs. After all, she was his newest investment. Warning(s): Darkling, Kaz fights haphephobia (but not as severe for him ), reader argues with Baghra, reader has internal moral conflict, curses, fights, and their red aftermath, I used a quote from TVD and The Invisible Life of Addie Laurie because… they fit and I love them veeery much It's my first one-shot for both Darkling and Kaz, so please be gentle (I'm very nervous and excited at the same time to publish it) <3 Word count: 14k (too long, someone should take me away from the keyboard in the middle of this)

~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 (end) ~•♤♤♤•~

Every night since you escaped with Alina and Genya with the help of your childhood friend Kaz and his crows from Ravka, you've been haunted by nightmares. No. Not the usual horrible flashbacks of your past in Ketterdam or the Little Palace.

HE visited you.

The Darkling. The Black Heretic. The man who promised to keep your heart safe and broke it in two along with your trust.

Genya has a right to warn you about powerful men. But you, the lost girl kidnapped by slave hunters from Ketterdam, the girl who has nothing to lose and was happy enough to somehow end up in the general's tent and find out about being one of the most powerful Grisha, didn't want to listen to her.

You foolishly believed that you, of all people, were able to charm the most dangerous man in all Ravka with your beauty, character and mind.

You believed that sweet words, longing glances and tender moments between you were real, that they meant something.

But it was all just a game. A game that brought him your affection and blind trust. And Kirigan, Darkling, or Alexander played in it like mastermind.

You should have listened to Genya. At least those damn dark eyes wouldn't haunt you every time you closed yours.

With the taste in men you have, you should have predicted that the first guy you hooked up with would be a psychopath. Fate could only be a little bit more favorable to you and not connect you to the hundreds-year-old black heretic who created the fold.

You've always had a weakness for villains and gray characters.

Your first teenage crush only proved it.

Because who else but you would fall in love with a bastard boy from the barrel who started his criminal career with the Dregs, who couldn't stand the touch of other people, and who wanted nothing more in his life than revenge on Pekka Rollins?

If I survive this shit, I really should find someone normal to be with.

You thought before you somehow managed to fall asleep for the first time in a month, hoping that your bond with the Darkling would weaken for those few hours when you tried to find peace.

~•♤♤♤•~

It was pure darkness around you. Not that one when all the lights went out and it's only you and your bed. No. They felt too familiar for you to confuse them with anything else. Those were his shadows.

He must have been near, playing with you as he always had.

You carefully took one step forward. The shadows parted in front of you, so you could see the ground. You bent down to your boot and pulled out a dagger, hiding it behind the sleeve of your blouse. You had to be ready for anything. Even if it meant fighting the shadow lord himself in your own subconscious. You sighed, stepping uncertainly into the darkness.

Your eyes quickly adjusted to the place around you, allowing you to move faster along the path. You recognized this bloody spot. The path in the woods you raced down when he took you for your first ride. Then he dragged you to HIS fountain, telling you nonsense about how it's only here among other Grishas that you discover your true self. He was already weaving his manipulative web around you, and you fell into it like an oblivious fly.

The snap of a twig stopped you. You looked around, not seeing anything at all except for the fountain in the distance. You flinched as his shadows gently pushed you forward.

"I'm not going to play another of your games, General!" you screamed as you spun around, walking forward. If he was already disturbing you, at least he might have had the honor to step out of the shadows.

"Call me Aleksander…"

You shivered as you felt his soft whisper against your neck. You spun, summoning your light and shooting into the space behind you. Unfortunately, it didn't encounter any Black Heretics on its way.

You huffed angrily, continuing your walk until you reached the fountain.

It was different than when he brought you here last time. The engravings have changed. They no longer told the story of the Black Heretic who created the fold. They were of you and Aleksander. Slowly falling in love.

"The union of darkness and his light." you felt your body tremble as the fabric of his kefta brushed your hand.

"I would never have taken you for such a sentimental fool." you turned to face him, taking a step back to increase the distance between you. With a very smug smirk, you noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes. Good. At least the son of a bitch suffers as much as you do. "Especially not after what Baghra had told me."

"My mother has the amazingly irritating gift of ruining my plans. She also doesn't like the people I care about much."

"Hmm… what a pity. Maybe if you weren't planning to use us as weapons in your plans, I'd care more. Also, don't try to tell me that there are people in this world who are more important to you than yourself. We both know I'm not going to fall for it again."

"I understand your resentment." you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief as you turned your gaze back to the fountain. "What's so funny?" you relished every irritated word directed at you. Maybe you couldn't seriously hurt him physically, but at least you could be a pain in his ass.

"I just forgot how easy it is for you to choose words that both tell the truth and work in your favor. Please, continue. I didn't truly laugh for a very long time."

"You're making a mistake." he stood next to you, grabbing your arm to turn you toward him.

You yanked your arm out of his grip as soon as your powers met in that familiar dance of dark and light. You both sighed, stunned by the sudden combination of your powers coursing through your veins. You opened your eyes, which you closed in the flow of the moment, meeting his tender, longing gaze. The man reached out to cup your cheek, but you pulled away from him before your skin had a chance to touch again.

"Funny. That's what I heard from your mother before she made me realize what shit I got into."

"One conversation with my mother, and you're ready to give it all up? Just because she was faster than me? Because she revealed a truth about me that she had no right to? What if I wanted to tell you right after I dealt with the group that wanted to attack you and Miss Starkov?" the grudge in his eyes only fueled your anger. He had no right to resent you for running away from him at the earliest opportunity when he had been hiding this important piece of his past for so long.

"What does it matter, general? None of it was real anyway." you growled, turning your back on him again so as not to reveal your hidden emotions to him. You didn't want him to know that you still cared. Indifference was a worse punishment for him than your wrath.

"So c'mon. Prove your point. Turn around, look me in the eyes, and tell me that you didn't feel anything towards me for even the slightest moment."

You wanted. You really did. To look directly into his soul-black eyes and say that he meant as much to you as the dust under your shoes. However, you both knew very well that it would be just a poor lie. And you both knew each other well enough to know when the other was lying.

"Just because my foolish heart longs for something, it doesn't mean I'll give in to its stupid desires. Wasn't you the one who told me that wanting makes us weak?"

"You should know I've changed my mind by now." the sound of leaves crunching under his boots was the only warning you got before you felt his presence behind you. "You. You are changing my mind."

"Don't tell me I have any influence over you. It's a poor play. You can do better, Kirigan."

"You and I may change the world, Y/N…" you flinched as you heard the exact same words he said here so many months ago. You turned to face him when you felt the coldness of one of his shadows wrapping around your leg. You pointed your dagger at the man standing only one, little step away from you. He didn't seem affected at all as you pointed the dagger at him. He didn't even look at it. His eyes were only on yours. "You may not see it now, too blinded by your righteous, but not entirely fair, anger at me, but deep down, you know that we are destined for greater things than others. You, me, and Alina together can be the strongest creatures in the world." 

"You know very well that we never wanted to live like this. Neither of us."

"Do you? Alina maybe doesn't want to be the Saint, but you, Y/N?" you took a step back and another as the black heretic approached you with his every word. He stood in front of you, letting the dagger you were holding in your trembling hands touch his chest. He smiled almost mockingly, seeing that your weapon against him was exactly the same one he gave you on your birthday, provoking your anger again. To spite him, you summoned wispy beams of white light that began to radiate from your hand to chase away his shadows.

"You don't know what I want." you growled, pressing the dagger harder against his heart to remind him that you were in control here. He could sneak into your dreams, but at night you were the most powerful Grisha in this bloody world. And even he had to reckon with your power.

"Yet I still see a desire in your eyes." you shifted your gaze to him, watching him silently and with hostility as his face was illuminated only by your powers. You were disgusted to find that, despite his betrayal, he was still equally handsome to you. "Not only for me but also for my power. You, my little moonlight, you want to be just like me. Strong, powerful, and ageless." he raised his hand deftly, dodging your dagger, and, under your watchful gaze, brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek as he did so. He took a step towards you, causing you to press the blade against his neck as he got close enough to whisper in your ear. "You can run as far as you want, but you don't run from the truth that's inside you. And when you finally understand what you really want, I'll be there for you, waiting with open arms for my saint moon."

"Have fun waiting for this day, Morozova." you whispered, not giving in to his piercing gaze.

"I am a very patient man, after a thousand years on this earth, you will be too, Y/L/N."

"I'm not you, Aleksander. I don't wanna live forever, and I'm not gonna. I won't see the only people I truly love and care about die before me. Even eternity and unimaginable power are not worth it."

"They're still people you love and who can share this fate with you. Who will live long enough to be with you forever." one of his shadows began to wrap around your hand, forcing you to remove the dagger from his neck.

He leaned closer to you and rested his forehead against yours. You sighed, shivering as the scent of his familiar perfume enveloped you after so many weeks apart. You were tempted to give in to him again. And that dark desire in your heart terrified you more than the capabilities of the Black Heretic caressing your cheek.

"This isn't love. It was just a game. We were just playing a game. The same one you created a long time ago to earn my trust. But I'm no longer that naive girl who is desperate for somebody's attention and love. You made me stronger, crueler, ruthless. And believe me, general, I'll repay you for all you have done."

"You don't believe that. You can't have believed my mother that I am your villain so easily." in other circumstances, where your heart wasn't beating for his, you'd probably laugh at the desperation in his voice. But now that every fiber of you longed for the man before you, there was only one thing you could do.

"Then tell me, Aleksander..." you leaned in to him, rubbing his nose with yours as he closed his eyes and waited for your lips to finally touch after weeks of craving your slightest touch. "Why was I so tempted to do this?" you dug into his tempting mouth, giving you both what you needed.

In your head, you explained this crime against your friends as wanting to do what was originally intended to be your primary goal. The gentle prolongation of your longing, amazing, desperate kiss before you plunged the dagger into his side without the slightest hesitation wasn't your fault at all. Aleksander moaned into your lips, pulling away from you as he felt blood trickle down his side.

"Leave me alone, or I will make myself your villain." you whispered into his mouth before you somehow managed to get yourself out of your "dream".

~•♤♤♤•~

"Y/N?" Alina's soft whisper wakes you up. You opened your eyes, feeling how your chest was burning for fresh air and your heart beating faster than it should. The woman was sitting next to you, holding your hand.

In the corner of your eye, you can see Nina standing in the doorway of the room Kaz graciously assigned to you after you arrived in Ketterdam. You can swear on saints that Inej was looking through your window before she went - probably going to tell Kaz about your fourth nightmare this week.

And it was only Tuesday.

You felt attacked from all sides. If not Inej through the window, then the madmen through the door or in your dreams.

"What are you doing here? It's well after midnight." you asked her, gratefully accepting a towel from Nina to wipe the sweat from your face. Alina and Genya lived far from the club, in motels on opposite sides of the city.

"Just in case someone betrays us. At least one of you will save yourself if the Darkling comes to these parts."

Brekker's brilliant and preventive mind had already terrified you before you stepped off the boat onto the familiar land of Ketterdam. The fact that he thought through and arranged your accommodation before anyone could ask him was either another display of his otherworldly mind or a blatant act of arrogance and overconfidence in his strength against the Darkling. But you knew Kaz too well to assume that he underestimated the power of the Black Heretic even for a moment.

"Nice to see you too. Kaz sent for me."

"Since when does the sun summoner do all the Dreg king's orders?" you asked, making Nina laugh.

"Since the moon summoner is constantly skipping her bedtime. You have to sleep. You can't always be on Jesper's special energetic drinks." she scolded you like a little child, to which you snorted indignantly.

"I will take a gorgeous, lovely, very long nap right after we kill Kirigan. Before then, nobody can make me do that. And tell Kaz I remembered him as braver the last time we saw each other on your way back to the motel."

"We are just worried about you, Y/N. You slept the whole night only once since we left."

"Don't tell me you're surprised. If you were me, you would do the same."

"Maybe. But we both know you're stronger than me. I know you can beat him, and even if you can't do this alone, which I doubt…" she wrapped her hand around yours, making you look into her eyes again. "You must know I will always be by your side, like you by mine. It's you and me against the darkness, Y/N."

"You know, you've spent way too much time on that boat with your toughts. You sound like an old uncle giving good advice or something."

"Speaking of advice, if I were you, I wouldn't insult the only person who can wake you up from… this." Nina waved her hand in a circle, pointing to the miserable state you were in.

"You should see Kirigan. I stabbed him." you replied with a self-satisfied smirk, watching the heartrender gasp in shock and Alina shake her head in disapproval.

"What have I told you about starting unnecessary arguments with him and maiming him?"

"That this is a good way to vent my anger and frustration?" you asked innocently with a huge smile.

Alina drew breath to argue with you, but a knock on the door distracted her. You glanced at Jesper, peering into your room, and wrinkled your nose at the light-burnt sheets you and Alina had left.

"The boss wants you, moon girl."

"Not only him." you murmured, pulling the remnants of the quilt from yourself. You took your clothes out of the closet and turned to the people in the room with your hands on your hips. "Are you leaving or staying for the show?" Alina mumbled a silent apology, blushing in embarrassment as she left, along with a laughing Jesper and an amused Nina.

You sighed as you stood in front of the mirror and brushed away the sweaty hair that was stuck to your face. Thanks to Inej and Kirigan, it looks like you'll have a long conversation with Kaz about your safety again. Your friend was sometimes a bigger pain in the ass than you—an achievement that wasn't granted by you to just anyone.

"I just fucking hope you're writhing in pain right now." you muttered to yourself, not believing for a moment in the sincerity of what you just said.

~•♤♤♤•~

"You wanted me." you entered the Dirtyhands' office without knocking, taking a place of honor on one of the two comfortable armchairs in the room. Kaz didn't look up from his papers, but the slight crease of irritation on his forehead told you he had noticed your presence. You were surprised that, after years of separation, you could still read him easily. "It's rude to ignore your guest."

"It's rude to come in without knocking." he replied to your provocation, tracing something he had just written. You snorted in amusement, seeing that you managed to distract him.

"Well, I didn't come here for no reason. You sent Jes for me."

"Jes?" a diminutive you used for his sharpshooter, has earned the man's attention. He gave you a questioning look, throwing the papers on his desk.

"What? Can't I make a friend other than you?"

"I'm your boss." he hummed, getting his cane up from his desk and walking to his dresser. You rolled your eyes as you watched the man's back. The son of a bitch knew perfectly well that you hated it when he didn't look at you during a conversation.

"Sure, if it helps you sleep, tell yourself what you want, Brekker."

"You live at my club, sleep here, eat with my crows, and waste my time taking some useless gossip from downstairs." he enumerated, turning over his things and searching persistently for something.

"And I'd been doing this for four years before you became Mr. Scary Dirtyhands from the Barrel. You just proved my point, Kazzle. We are friends."

You got up from your chair and stood next to him. You glanced at the contents of his drawer and frowned, noticing something familiar. You reached for a small silver box with his REAL initials on it, but the man slammed the drawer shut before you could get your hands on the find. You snorted indignantly as you noticed the smug smirk on his face as he nearly clipped your fingers for your meddling.

Kaz Brekker was sentimental enough to keep the ashtray you gave him.

You involuntarily remembered what you told him when you handed it to him.

"I know you don't smoke and don't celebrate your birthday, but I think that's a pretty nice metaphor and the closure you need."

"What? An old ashtray from the market? Which you probably swept from under the noses of some heavy smokers."

"No, genius, in case you haven't noticed, it has a special engraving. Read it."

"For K.R., let him rest in peace. What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can consider it what you want. A keepsake of your former self, a lost life you might have had, an urn for the ashes of your former self... we both know you're not the same man you used to be. And you have every right to be, Kaz. It's just... I think you deserve something commemorating your old self. The boy who stole half-rotten apples with me to survive. Now you are someone else—someone stronger, wiser, cunninger... but know that I will never forget Kaz, who was my only light when I was at my worst."

"That's pretty sentimental for you. Also, calling me light is not quite an appropriate metaphor." he replied coolly, returning to his book.

You nodded to him, saying goodbye. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stroke a silver object for a moment and put it in his pants pocket. You smiled. Apparently, you weren't the only sentimental fool in Ketterdam.

"Then, as my friend, you won't mind telling me about that strange connection between you and the Darkling that keeps you from sleeping without threatening to set my club on fire with your dazzling moonlight?" he asked, snapping you out of your flashback.

"No, because, as my friend, you won't be nosy, and out of politeness, you won't ask."

"I anticipated this reaction. That's why I got this." a velvet ring box magically appeared in his hands.

"Are you going to propose to me? Oh, Kazzie, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this! You don't have to kneel, sweetheart. We can call Jes, and he'll do it for you. It's a perfect opportunity for him to practice before asking Wylan."

"Can you be serious for just one moment, please?" he asked, blushing slightly and trying to give you one of his famous menacing looks.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. Besides, you could have foreseen in that plan of yours that I would never waste such an opportunity."

"Just open it." he sighed, tossing you the box. Too curious to find out what was inside, you decided to leave the poor boy alone and refrained from commenting further. You widened your eyes as you saw the real ring. "What? No enthusiastic and loud: "Yes, Kazzie, I'll marry you!", so my crows can tease me about it too? To be honest, I'm disappointed, Y/N."

"Well, I could have been joking about it when I didn't have a ridiculously beautiful ring in front of me. Sorry that I'm a little confused, Kaz."

"It's good you like it, but I'd rather know if it works as it should. Put it on your finger."

"As romantic as always." you murmured, trying on a silver ring with an opal and small diamonds around the stone. You raised your hand and, by using your power, increased the light reflected by the moon that was still in the sky so it could illuminate your new jewelry. "It's beautiful, but I have absolutely no idea what it is supposed to do."

"Protect you." you glanced back at Kaz, only to discover that he had been staring at you the entire time. The white sparkles in his eyes caused by your light captivated you more than the shining diamonds. You shook your head, remembering what happened the last time you gave in to your stupid crush.

"Protect me?"

"I've been doing some research with Alina and Nina about the bond between you and him, the amplifiers… we believe this will weaken the bond between you enough for you to sleep peacefully. He will not enter your mind uninvited." he said, spitting out the words about the Darkling like he was a plague. But you were more interested in something quite different from his open dislike of the Black Heretic.

"Why? Why are you getting through all of it for me? It's not your war to fight. You have no interest in it."

"I have. Since I got you out of the Little Palace, you've been my investment. And I protect everything I invest in and what's worth my time. No matter what."

"You do realize I won't bring you any profit? Alina would be a better choice than me." you questioned his choice. Kaz turned to the window, as if looking for Inej, whose arrival would interrupt this uncomfortable conversation.

Unfortunately for him, the saints had no watch over him. And one of them was waiting for him to gather his thoughts and answer her question. He had to do this without betraying the emotions that had been bubbling up inside him since he had first seen her at one of the Dreg's raids. He was lost the second he saw her and completely fated to love her after their first conversation.

But she couldn't know it.

She couldn't know that his heart was gone with her and that it took him ages to find himself after she disappeared. He promised himself to keep her away from him. To make sure he wouldn't fall for her beauty, mind, eyes, smile, and laugh like he had done as a child. But the second he saw her again, he knew that his heart was hers. Hers to keep, hold, break, play.

But she couldn't know it.... At least not now. Not when he had just snatched her from the Darkling's grasp.

Not when he wasn't ready to love her the way she should be loved.

"That's for me to evaluate and for you to make sure I won't regret this. Besides, I only invest in one-of-a-kind. I don't need more narcissistic saints to go into my office like it was their own." he said after a long silence, without taking his eyes off the window.

He was afraid that his eyes would betray the truth hidden in his stupid heart. He was grateful to all above that she wasn't a heartrender and couldn't feel his treacherous heart beating madly every time he looked at her. He just had to make sure Nina didn't reveal his little secret. He didn't know that the woman had been blackmailed into a similar case by the moon summoner.

"So I'm pretty lucky. I would die if I had to sleep on those inconvenient motel beds."

"Considering how much sleep you actually get, you're unlikely to notice a difference." you gasped, feigning indignation at the mischievous, amused tone of his voice.

"You're a cruel bastard, Kaz Brekker." he finally turned to you with a small smirk on his face. You giggled, only widening his smile.

"Go and check your ring. I hope you won't be threatened by any ugly faces."

"Yes, boss." you saluted, walking towards the door. You opened it and were about to leave when an idea popped into your head. You leaned against the door frame, looking at the man taking his place at the desk. "Kazzie?" you asked sweetly, biting your lip to keep from laughing too soon. The Bastard of the Barrel gave you a questioning look, fearing the familiar tone of your voice and the question coming. "As your fiancée, am I going to get half of your club?"

"Over my dead, cold body." he replied without a second of hesitation, perfectly prepared for such a provocation from your side.

"You know, you need to work on sharing if you plan to be husband material in the future. I feel sorry for your future spouse, unless it'll be your job."

"Go to sleep before I put you in bed myself."

"You should know better than to scare me with a good time, sweetheart!" you shouted back, leaving and pushing your way through the crowd of a few shocked Dregs who had probably heard the part about the fiancée and whom Kaz called to his office as soon as he saw them.

And as soon as he is done with them, Kaz will rip your legs out of your pretty ass. Even Alina and Nina will not be able to help you.

~•♤♤♤•~

The ring worked great. From that night on, you slept like a baby every day. The Darkling's face appeared only occasionally in your nightmares (both bloody ones and… more pleasant ones). But it wasn't REALLY him. Just a messed-up version of your sick imagination.

In the meantime, you trained with Alina and Nina (the woman needed the presence of other Grishas in Brekker's gang; besides, she was an amazing friend, and she also made wonderful waffles); you developed your powers; and you two gossiped with Genya, as she changed your looks every week so that no one would accidentally recognize you (by the way, you learned that David was heading this way to reunite with the love of his life).

You became close to Jes (you had the honor of being trained with HIS PISTOLS) and Inej, whose comforting company was invaluable (as well as the rooftop stealth lessons. Kaz cursed her after the first time you scared him by climbing through his office window and giving you a barrier. Of course you had your mind, and you didn't listen to him. Your unexpected visits to his office only became more frequent.)

So you could say that everything was on its way back to normality.

But it wasn't. Because one fine day, when the crows, Kaz, you, Alina, and Genya were eating breakfast at his club, someone showed up at your door.

Someone you didn't want to see more than the Darkling himself.

"What the fuck is she doing here, if I may culturally ask?" Alina gave you an apologetic look as Baghra walked casually into the crows' kitchen like she belonged here. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kaz taking any sharp metal objects from the table that you might have used to attack the woman.

You and Baghra had a rough relationship. Due to the fact that you and Aleksander were something, the woman did not look at you very favorably. You had no intention of fawning over a woman who wanted to kill her own son, either. Maybe your feelings for the Darkling were... unclear, but you wouldn't wish anyone, not even your worst enemy, a mother who was willing to stand against her own child, to spurn him instead of doing... anything to help him out of his darkness. It was not in line with your moral views. But no one here seemed to care since they invited the mother of Satan to your table.

"It's nice to see you too, Y/N."

"I don't even have enough respect for you to lie to you and admit that seeing you didn't ruin my day. I will ask one last time..." you got up from the table, shielding Kaz and the crows as you summoned your power. "What are you doing here?"

"My son is looking for you all over the world, do you think I won't try to get to you first before he does?"

"Oh, you've already shown how much you care about outdoing Kirigan in reaching us. I'm asking you, what do you want from us?"

"I came here for you. Because of you, child." you stiffened slightly, wondering what else the old woman had to say. But you would die before admitting that Baghra's help would be invaluable to your little band of rebels. Your pride was both your greatest strength and weakness.

"Well, excuse me, but I have more important things to do than listen to some old lady's ravings. I haven't finished my breakfast yet, and I'm far too sober for another conversation about how everyone wants to use me as a weapon."

"Every day I'm less surprised by how you ended up with my son. You two are a perfect match for each other." she snapped, annoyed at your indifferent attitude.

"I'd suggest you get to the point. You were the one who wanted to meet with us. As our moon summoner mentioned, we don't have to listen to you. And trust me, I have absolutely no intention of stopping her when she wants to kick you out of my club." Kaz stood next to you, measuring the woman with a watchful gaze.

You were proud that he believed in your and Alina's powers and wasn't afraid to provoke the shadow summoner in your presence. You cast a fleeting glance at him, watching as Baghra gave him an appraising look.

"Mr. Breaker. It would be better for you and your club if work with the summoners of the sun and moon ended in Ravka. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"I never make ill-considered decisions, and certainly not out of fear." he replied with his poker, business face.

"This is only a trait of the greatest winners or greatest losers."

"You don't have to worry about him. Mr. Brekker is always on the winning team." you answered for him, having had enough of this woman. Unfortunately, it looked like she wouldn't be leaving you so soon.

"Turn that light out, girl, before the Grishas swarm here. I won't hurt your boyfriend and his friends." you frowned as you heard Jes coughing in the background, trying not to laugh. With a wave of your hand, the white light around you vanished. You watched in displeasure as a smirk began to form on Baghra's lips.

"He is/I am not my/her boyfriend." together with Kaz, you both uttered these words as Baghra pushed past you. This caused you to turn to one another and exchange equally awkward, perplexed looks.

"Whatever, just get your lovebird butts over here." she murmured as she unfolded the map on the table and took a few items out of her bag. You snorted at seeing a small wooden statue of Aleksander.

It was going to be a long and tiring morning.

~•♤♤♤•~

"We have to hurry before your boy gets here. Good thing he is walking with the cane, at least it keeps him from sneaking up on us." Baghra growled at you. She'd only been here a week, and she'd already ruled everyone. You were no longer surprised at where Aleksander inherited his incredible self-confidence and arrogance.

"For the love of God, I'm telling you for the last time, KAZ IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND. Besides, if I were you, I wouldn't underestimate him. You could actually learn from him. You'll need a cane soon, too."

"Can you two just stop arguing for once and focus on the task at hand?" the sun summoner lingered, following you to the basement of the Crow Club.

"I'm sorry, Alina, that I'd rather banter with that witch than figure out how to seduce her son, lull his guard down, pluck the antlers of a wonderful steg out of his hand, and break the link between us once and for all."

"Start by undoing a few buttons on your blouse and letting your hair down; that should be enough for him to lose his mind." she advised you, making you and Alina shudder, both equally abashed.

"Seriously?" you asked mockingly, giving her a disgusted look. Nevertheless, you followed the woman's suggestion. "What is the next step? Shall I wear some nice underwear?"

"Not necessarily, but it would be nice to take off that ring. I doubt Aleksander would appreciate that someone other than himself gave you such gaudy jewelry." you snorted, taking off the only thing keeping the Darkling from crossing the walls of your mind.

You bypassed Baghra's outstretched hand and handed the ring to Alina. The older woman snorted indignantly at what you stuck your tongue out at. She didn't expect you to trust her with anything, even something as small as Kaz's ring, right?

"Done. What's next?"

"You need to make a connection. Every time he thinks of you or you think of him, you seek each other out and make a link. Imagine his face, voice, and silhouette; recall some memory associated with him; do anything to have him in front of your eyes. It should work and take you to where he is now. Just like when you two were getting into each other's dreams before Mr. Brekker gave you this ring."

"I did not seek him of my own free will. It just happened." you defended yourself, not wanting anyone to think you were looking for the Darkling like a lost puppy.

"You know him. He will continue to invade your thoughts and your life to convince you of the error of your ways and choices. This ring can work now, but what happens when you two get stronger in the future? It will stop working. You will be condemned to endure his pervasive presence. In the morning, afternoon, nights, and midnights. He won't let you go. Never. You cannot extract the stag from your own body. So you must find a way to block him permanently. Not by some magic ring."

You sighed, realizing she was right. You will be free of him only when any bond between you is gone. The only thing you were afraid of was that it existed between you and the Darkling long before you killed the stag...

Darkness and its light. Moon and shadow. Destined to be together. United at the end of the day.

"And what if I fail and he chokes me, stabs me, or just uses the cut on me?"

"We will observe the energy around you. If we see too many shadows or your light, we'll pull you out."

"All right. Let's get this over with." you sat down, leaning against the wall of the Crow Club basement, praying to all of Inej's mighty saints that your plan would work.

You closed your eyes, remembering the moment before your big performance at the winter fete.

You had to pretend that you didn't know Kaz, and then you had no idea what he was doing here wearing one of the soldiers uniforms. He promised to explain everything to you, but then Aleksander came.

"I'll take her from here." he said to Kaz, letting him know that he was no longer needed.

But he has not left you. Aleksander ignored him, examining your kefta carefully. It was beautiful. Genya decorated it with silver threads and embroidered stars and moons in different phases. However, the fact that probably delighted him the most was its black (but actually dark navy blue) color. But he didn't care about the true color of your kefta as long as it looked black to any other observer.

A clear signal that you were his moon.

"I have something for you." he whispered as he leaned closer to you so that your noses were practically touching. He pulled something shiny out of his sleeve. He held the silver chain up to your eye level so you could see the pendant. Moon with a star. You shifted your gaze from the shiny object to those mesmerizing black eyes staring at you in pure adoration. "I know you're practically festooned with these symbols, but I wanted you to know..." he interrupted, brushing your hair over one shoulder so he could place the necklace over your neck. He planted a quick, tender kiss on your nape as he clicked the silver jewelry. "That you're not just a Saint Y/N, summoner of the moon. You're mine moonlight in the worst darkness of mine. My hope and peace. The only light I let through my shadows."

You grabbed the pendant, noticing your initials carved into the back of the moon.

"It's beautiful." you turned in his arms to whisper in his ear, making him shiver as you kissed his earlobe. "Aleksander..."

~•♤♤♤•~

You opened your eyes.

A dim light illuminated Kirigan's war room.

You did it. Now all you had to do was seduce him. Piece of cake.

You let yourself watch him flick through some papers, wrinkling his nose and occasionally running a hand through his hair. The exact same one with the stag antler still stuck in it. You shook your head, remembering your task. You had to outsmart him. And in such a wise way that it didn't cross his mind that you might have bad intentions towards him.

"Aleksander." you whispered as you stepped out of the shadows. The man either really didn't notice you or he was a brilliant actor, judging by the pure shock that painted his face the moment he turned to meet your gaze. "You seem surprised to see me."

"I am." his mask of indifference and self-confidence quickly fell back into place. "But perhaps I shouldn't be. I should have known you'd prove to be an apt pupil. Not many can learn that trick." he placed the papers on the desk and leaned against it. "But after our last meeting, I had the impression that you didn't want to see me again. What changed your mind to seek me out?"

"I hate to say this, but I realized you were right."

"How so?" he began to watch you with interest, too curious to know what you were going to say to repay you for stabbing him last time. The fact that he didn't pounce on you with his shadows the moment he saw you gave you an odd sense of confidence. Maybe you could have made it.

"I was meant for more. And you were the first person to see me as I truly am. First to help me realize what I'm meant for. First to tech me how to use my power and how to see it as something more incredible than terrifying. First to see, I was more than a scared little girl. That I was powerful Grisha and I can do anything I want." with every word you said and every step you took towards him, you could see his mask crack open, revealing his true emotions. However, there was still a shadow of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes. You had to remove it if you wanted to win this battle.

"Was I? And what about Alina? Or your helpful friends that take you away from Little Palace?" you hoped you didn't show that his words affected you. You were afraid that somehow he might have discovered a little help from Kaz and his crows.

"They… they don't understand the power growing within me. I thought that Alina might share my feelings, but … it seems to me that we understand our possibilities completely differently when it comes to our powers. And my friends… I think they're more afraid of what I can do than admire it as… as you did."

"That's not their fault. I did try to warn you. Tried to explain that with so much power that flows in our veins, usually comes fear from the side of our loved ones."

"I know. I think I'm starting to finally understand that now." you took one slow step towards him, feeling his watchful gaze on you. "There are no others like us, and they never will be. We are connected by our powers. Alina can live without us, but you and me… you and me are destined to work together and to stand by our sides. There is no darkness without light, but it's the moon that brings it into the night and that lives among the shadows, working with them… Like calls to like, right, Aleksander?"

In his eyes, you could see how much he wanted to believe you, how much he wanted the words you said to be true... but you knew that Aleksander lived too long to believe only empty words. He needed conclusive proof that you were on his side and that you were only his moon. And you had to convince him somehow.

"As I delighted as I am that you found your way to me, what do you want?"

"That thing that binds us. I think you fear it more than you actually care to admit."

"I fear everything there is to fear; it makes me strong. I understand things about power that you've had years yet to learn, moonlight."

"Well, as you said, with a good teacher, I'm a very apt pupil. But I think we both know… that it's not all about power, though, is it?" you walked the distance between you two and stood chest-to-chest with him. "What about the other bond we share? That one I was avoiding for too long." you slowly cup his cheek, making him close his eyes at the touch of your soft skin. You tenderly stroked one of his black scars on his cheek, which made the Black Heretic sighe in relief. "I want you, Aleksander." he opened his eyes, looking at you in disbelief when he tried to seek any sight of lies on your face. "And being in your presence terrifies me as much as making me feel… like I finally belonged somewhere. Like I was made by saints to be next to you. It felt... right in some crazy way."

"Love is for madmen, Y/N. And I've already told you…" you shivered as his cold fingertips touched the hot skin of your neck. His fingers went to the silver necklace—your only sin against your friends. He took the pendant in his hands and kissed it, not taking his eyes off yours. "You're my moonlight. Nothing has changed, and I doubt it ever will... for both of us."

You pulled him by the hair to connect your lips in a long-awaited kiss, too annoyed with how long you had to work him out. (Or too scared that his words are true.) You moaned as he bit your lips, and in one sweeping motion, he scooped you up off the floor and sat you on his desk.

He pulled away from you, dropping his kefta on the floor, and went back to kissing you as if you were the only one that mattered in this world. But the next amplifier's whereabouts map you laid on as he kissed your soul out of you was a glaring reminder that you could never have truly had him.

You would never be his first choice.

"Forgive me for stabbing you, then." you whispered into his mouth as you broke apart for a moment to catch your breath. He pressed into you more fervently than before, caressing your waist tenderly.

"I will have kissed these tempting, sweet lips, even if it means I'll get stabbed by you, every time I do it."

That was good to know, you thought, throwing your arms around his shoulders and slowly pulling out the dagger from your sleeve as he continued to kiss you greedily, like he wanted to sate himself with you while he still had you in his arms.

"Your words, not mine." you murmured, catching his mouth with yours while driving the dagger into his hand. He snarled, breaking away from you and trying in vain to yank the metal out of your hand. You tried to pry the last stag's bone out of him.

But suddenly, just as you were about to do it, you find yourself back in the basement of the Crows Club.

You were breathing fast, frantically looking around the room. Kaz was kneeling a step away from you and watching you worriedly as you tried to calm down.

From the cane that was on your leg and his firm grip on your arm, you figured out pretty quickly why you suddenly came back. You yanked your arm from his hand in your anger, forgetting his phobia of touch and how much of an achievement it was for him to hold your arm.

"What the hell, Brekker?! I had him! I could end this right there! UGH! Why did you let him break our connection?!" you screamed in frustration, looking resentfully at Alina and Baghra.

"You nearly blew yourself out with your power, and they couldn't bring you back."

"I had it under control, Kaz!"

"Oh, really?" he asked mockingly, struggling to his feet with the help of his cane and walking over to you with equal anger painted in his eyes. "Because it didn't look good from my point of view. You could have blown up the whole club..."

"Of course you would only care about your stupid, fucking club! Forgive me, Dirtyhands. Next time I'm going to save the damn world from the Darkling, I'll pick up a place other than one of your fucking bases!" you yelled at him, pushing past a shocked Alina and Baghra.

"Y/N, come back here!" he shouted after you. The distinctive sound of his cane told you he was following you.

"I'm not your fucking property, Brekker! I can go anywhere I want!" you screamed, running as fast and far for him as you could, thanking everyone above that Brekker wasn't able to catch up with you. You needed a moment to yourself. And you only knew one place in all of Ketterdam where you could be truly alone.

~•♤♤♤•~

For a long time, you hated harbour. It was a reminder of your weakness—a reminder of a girl who got kidnapped by slave hunters. Then you met Aleksander and became one of the strongest Grisha. From then harbour was for you to remind you of the birth of Saint Y/N. Moon summoner. It was funny for you to see how easy it is to get on the ship and go anywhere you want. Be anyone you want. But you don't have this choice anymore. Not until your past stops chasing you whenever you close your eyes.

"I knew you'd be here." Kaz's voice below you made you shiver, but you didn't grace him with your gaze. "You'd be too merciful to me by choosing an easily accessible spot, wouldn't you?" he grumbled as he clambered next to you on the crates of goods. He sighed as he managed to climb up. He tossed his cane, catching it spectacularly and resting it against the crate beneath you. He leaned forward, staring out at the harbour with you, when the wind blew his hair, messing up his always perfectly styled hairdo.

"Nobody made you follow me around, Kazzle." you murmured, casting a fleeting glance at him, grinning mischievously at how tired he was of climbing crates. Someone here was in bad shape. Brekker must sit with these plans and papers for too long.

"I did." you turned your head to meet his piercing gaze. "I already told you. I take care of my investments."

"Maybe you're making a mistake."

"I'm never mistaken. I know when and how much to invest in something valuable."

"But what if I'm a lost cause? What if you're wrong this time? Why do you think I'm done with the Darkling? Me and him have so much in common... what if I become like him? Are you not afraid? That one day, in my naiveté, I'd decide Kirigan was worth a second chance and betray you? That one day I'll stop controlling my power and that I'll hurt you? How can you sit here so calmly and..."

"Because I know you better than myself. I may not believe in saints, but I believe in you, Y/N. I will always believe in you."

You swallowed, looking down in embarrassment. You didn't deserve this.

"I get caught up in it sometimes. That I return with memories to the Little Palace. I wonder what I could have done differently to prevent all this. How could I reason with him, what could I do to dissuade him from his plans. How to behave, what to say out loud, and what to keep to yourself. And I'm furious with Baghra that, being his mother, she didn't fight for him to the end; she gave up before we could do ANYTHING for him together. And I curse myself every time I feel guilty, knowing that I left him utterly alone. So tell me, Kaz, knowing now all these doubts growing within me, do you still believe in me?"

The killing silence told you everything you wanted to know.

"Come on. Go right ahead, Kazzie. Call me a fool, an idiot who wants to believe that everyone deserves someone close, someone they can trust. Who stupidly believes in giving people a second chance." you said, afraid to look up to see the revulsion in the eyes of the only person you could always count on.

Kaz said your name, but you ignored him completely, feeling tears slowly welling up in your eyes. Suddenly you felt the cold steel crow's head of his cane under your chin. Brekker forced you to look into his eyes. And you thanked all the saints for the tenderness that was still present in them.

"You know, I don't think that about you. You are a Grisha. The moon summoner. The only beacon of hope in the darkness. I think that in your job description lies faith even in the most deprived, lost, and broken souls."

"I didn't know that poetic side of you, Brekker."

"I've changed since the last time you saw me."

"Really?" you asked, nodding at his gloves and cane. He caught your eye, gripping the crow's head tighter. "Hey. You have every right to do that, Kaz, okay? I was kidding, and I didn't know it was still a sensitive subject. I'm sorry. Apart from that, I can name more. For example, you still have a stick in your ass when it comes to pranks. It was too easy to get on your nerves with Jes." you said, trying to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

"Looking now at you, it's better for humanity that you haven't become a saint. Saints, protect some wretch who would have asked you for help." you smiled at him, glad he understood your intentions.

"Now, I feel hurt, Kazzie. Wouldn't you pray to me if they hung my holy image up here somewhere?" you asked, offended, putting your hand over your heart.

He knew he would spend hours, days, and weeks praying to her, only to see her face again and hear the voice of the Saint of his heart...

"No. No saint has ever watched over me. It wouldn't make sense to pray to you either. Especially since I knew you personally before you became a mighty Grisha."

"Well, I'm no saint yet, but since I'm your newest investment, I guess that means I'm supposed to serve you in some way. And since I'm not going to be your errand dog or spy crow, I guess a good compromise would be if I became your bodyguard. Then you can't say that there's no saint watching over you."

"I don't need a guardian angel."

"It's good then that I'm far from being an angel." you stared at each other, the wind blowing your hair, as you enjoyed the understanding between you and the unspoken acknowledgment of your closeness.

Kaz Brekker could not have a weakness. This city would use it against him very quickly. But he felt that perhaps his weakness could be powerful enough to be his greatest asset instead of his darkest burden. Maybe he didn't have to worry about her that much.

"Ketterdam was boring without you. It was also harder to work without your… skills." he said uncertainly, averting his gaze from your piercing, mesmerizing eyes.

"Is that your way to tell me you missed me?" you were teasing him and pushing his cane. He almost fell over when you broke his only support. You almost couldn't prevent yourself from laughing.

"We could have gained much more kruge if you had been here."

"I didn't want to leave." you whispered, involuntarily remembering the day they kidnapped you.

"I know." he leaned towards you, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You don't have to worry about them. I made sure they were six feet deep underground before you even set foot in Ketterdam." your heart warmed at the thought that he was chasing them for you.

He made sure you were 100% safe and comfortable before he brought you back home. Home. You didn't think you'd find him among the crows, thieves, and the Dreg Club. You didn't think you'd feel this way about him—one of the men whose lifestyle was far from normal and safe.

"You're getting soft in your old age, Brekker." you replied with a half smile, holding back unwanted tears. You weren't that weak girl anymore. You were Grisha. And thanks to the man sitting next to you, you were (almost) free. You grabbed his cane, right next to the crow's head, where Kaz's hands were. His gaze flicked to where your hands were so close together. He turned his head to meet your watery eyes. "Thank you, Kaz. For everything. It means a lot to me. Even if it was foolish to break into the Darkling's palace and kidnap us like sacks of potatoes."

"It was the perfect plan! Nobody noticed us." he was indignant, immediately defending his action.

"Yeah, but what I and Alina get hit with every time Jesper and you steer that wooden cart over rocks is ours. You could really choose a path that wasn't made of stones."

"Next time, it's up to you to make a plan to escape the 500-year-old shadow summoner. We'll see how you do." he snorted, offended, but didn't move an inch. Contrary. His hand moved closer to yours, wrapping precariously around yours on his cane.

"Less than a week back in Ketterdam, and you're already letting me into your plans? Aww, I love you too, Kazzie."

He would give all the kruge of this world to hear those words from you for the rest of his life... and it surprised him that he wasn't afraid to admit it to himself at all.

"And I almost forgot how annoying you can be."

"Don't worry. I have all the time in the world to shrink your inflated ego and remind you of that, boss." Kaz held his breath. He stared at you searchingly, trying to find in your face the answer to whatever question he was asking in his head. You unknowingly scooted closer to each other so that your shoulders rested against each other.

You were much closer to each other before. Kaz (on his good days) even felt comfortable hugging you for a while. After years apart, you thought it would take ages for him to get used to your presence again and the brief touch without going underwater with Jordi.

But you were here. Holding hands, leaning against each other, and staring into each other's eyes.

You shivered as you felt his breath against your cheek when he leaned a little closer to you, testing his border.

"You're shining." he whispered softly, hypnotized, afraid to break the silence between you.

"What?"

"Your eyes are shining." his trembling hand took your cheek as you were watching him speechless. Even in your wildest dreams, you wouldn't suppose he would hold you like that. He truly changed. He beat Pekka, and now the King of Ketterdam was fighting with his demons. You were so proud of him and also sad that you weren't with him at the beginning of his road to healing. "And the light is coming out of your skin. You're shining like a star for lost souls."

"You're not lost... not anymore." you whispered, your voice trembling, fully understanding what he had left unsaid.

"I was. But now the moonlight is lighting up Ketterdam's darkness again."

"Kaz... I..." you held your breath, staring at him in anticipation. You didn't know what for. All you knew was that taking your eyes off him for even a second was an unforgivable crime.

Your noses were almost touching, your lips were the closest you've known each other. And Kaz was as calm as if he'd never had a haphephobia. As if the situation with Jordi never happened. You were afraid his waters would finally rise, interrupting your moment, but as soon as your foreheads touched, all the logical thoughts in your head went to hell. It was just you and him.

And you would still enjoy that closeness if the sound of breaking glass and Jesper's curses hadn't driven you apart.

"Here you are! How the hell did you get in there?! Get down! We're leaving in half an hour!" Jesper shouted to you from below and disappeared as quickly as he appeared. You cleared your throat, realized what Jes said after a long moment.

"We are leaving?" you asked, surprised. Bastard didn't say a word about going anywhere.

"Yes. I'll explain everything to you on the ship." he gave you a brush-off as he began his downward journey.

"On the ship? Kaz, what have you planned?!" you shouted angry as you followed him.

~•♤♤♤•~

"This is the dumbest plan ever made, and believe me, I've been to more than one of his idiotic ideas." you said, pointing at the offended Kaz.

Your great friends (and Baghra) have decided to sneak into the Darkling's palace, steal his maps and war plans, and set the Little Palace on fire.

You started to doubt their good sanity... or sobriety.

"Sooner or later, we have to sneak in there. Aleksander has stolen from me all the books and records of our ancestors; he is in possession of immense power, and we can not allow him to make use of it." you clenched your fists, almost ready to pounce on the woman for revealing the Darkling's true name.

"Who is Aleksander?" you ignored Kaz's question, nervously twirling the ring he gave you on your finger.

"Was he able to steal something from YOU? And you let him do it? How surprised I am."

"What are you implying?"

"I implying that we are in some huge coach driven by your men, leaving Ketterdam on your initiative and entering the lion's mouth because you said so. In my place, you'd be suspicious too."

"The odds of me betraying you are as high as the odds that you will."

"And why is that?" you hissed, furious at how easily she got on your nerves.

"Aleksander has a knack for manipulating people. A few sweet words, and even your boyfriend won't be able to count on your devotion anymore."

"Watch your mouth. I'm not her boyfriend." Kaz growled, tensing up next to you, thereby stopping your quarrel. Baghra shrugged, continuing her quiet conversation with Alina. In your mind, you were planning the old lady's slow death until someone's hand grabbed yours in a strong grip.

You turned your head towards Kaz. He stared blankly out the window, completely ignoring your gaze. Instead, he started drawing circles on your palm, trying to calm you down somehow. You turned your head in the opposite direction, smiling to yourself at the tender gesture. Unbeknownst to you, Kaz had the same smirk as yours on his face.

The rest of the trip to the city was uneventful. As planned, Alina and you stayed in Baghra's secret stash while the rest went off to play heroes. Your job was to distract the Darkling, and Alina was supposed to watch over you.

You'd agree to their plan if your role wasn't just to stand by while others risked their lives trying to get the information you all needed.

But you decided not to argue with the others about it this time. After all, they couldn't control you once you got into the palace. You might as well have snooped around, looked for what you needed, and done most of the work for them. Closing your eyes and getting ready to connect with the Darkling, you only hoped that your little disobedience would go unnoticed.

~•♤♤♤•~

You just finished searching Kirigan's study, war room, and bedroom. You were on your way to the last room - the library, when you bumped into the one person you wanted to avoid.

You were paralysed as soon as you saw him walking down the hall. You hoped he wouldn't look in your direction, but the general (alert as always) glanced at you briefly before disappearing from your view. You had the faintest hope that he would think you were a vision, but all of it vanished when you felt a hand gently wrap around your neck and pin you against the wall.

"You either have too much free time or you enjoy haunting me at random times, little moon." you didn't answer, too scared that the moment he touched you, all your power took on a life of its own, merging with his shadows, as it usually does when your skins meet for the first time after a long separation. You were defenceless. Kirigan frowned, watching you with growing interest. "Speechless? Not any irritating responses? Do you fear me, Y/N?" his taunts brought you to your senses, forcing you to calm down immediately. You couldn't wait for Alina to be rescued. You had to fight him yourself.

"That's what you want, isn't it? To have everyone and everything under control, too scared to say or do anything against you."

"Fear is a powerful ally and also loyal."

"Not as loyal and lasting as love, trust, respect." you tried to break free from his grip, but all attempts to remove his hand from your neck proved futile. You were lucky that instead of tightening the grip and cutting off your air, he just wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer so that your faces were mere millimetres apart. "We could have had it, Aleksander. All of it. All you had to do was set me free and make me your equal."

"You'll come to feel it towards me someday. For now… even though I truly want to, I have no time for you, moonlight. Your friends are waiting for me. But don't get the wrong impression…" he leaned towards you, stroking your cheek tenderly as he whispered in your ear. "I will be back for you, my Y/N. Wherever you are hiding from me."

You shivered as he kissed your temple, making this terrifying promise to you. At some point, his shadows enveloped you completely and sent you back to the room where you and Alina were hiding.

And after one look at the sun summoner, you both knew what you had to do.

~•♤♤♤•~

You couldn't remember the last time you ran so fast in your entire life. It must have been back in your Ketterdam days, doing some little errands for the Dregs.

But this time, you weren't running to save your life. You ran to save Kaz Brekker's ass, who was the only one (not counting Inej, who was already hidden somewhere with Alina, waiting for you in harbour) who didn't return from his mission. As you expected, everything went to hell without you, and if you and Alina hadn't arrived, half of the crows (including Baghra) would have been captured by Aleksander's grishas. You wouldn't feel sorry for the old woman, but Alina insisted on saving her.

Jes, Wylan, Nina and Baghra searched other parts of the Little Palace, trying to burn everything in their path. You could still make it. If only Brekker hadn't gotten lost in the meantime. You knew you should go with him. You've always been a team player, and pairing you with Alina for this mission and leaving you behind was their worst idea.

You promised yourself that the next time you'd strap that risky idiot to your hip.

That's why you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw him at the end of the corridor. But instead of running up to him and yelling at him for his thoughtlessness, you hid in the shadows as he backed away slowly. Someone had to catch him. You caught his eye for a moment, glad he noticed you and started to head your way. Thanks to this, you could assassinate his attacker and try to escape from the palace.

Piece of cake. If he wasn't talking to a fucking Darkling.

"I know you kidnapped my moon summoner. Now you're going to tell me where you stashed her." you cursed internally, feeling yourself start to panic. You guys were officially screwed.

"We didn't take her. She fled on her own." you marvelled at how Kaz could still keep his composure with an angry Darkling a few feet in front of him. Sometimes you forget how mentally strong he was.

"I don't doubt in it… where is she? I won't ask you again."

"I don't know. I don't own her… but it's pretty clear she wasn't interested in being a captive anymore."

Aleksander got even angrier at the little insinuation that Kaz took better care of you, that he didn't treat you like an asset, unlike the general. You cursed Dirtyhands for wanting to mock and taunt the Darkling, even though you could see that he wasn't so confident around him.

"I heard about you. And your crows. It would be a shame if something happened to such a talented group." the Darkling summoned some of his shadows, causing Kaz to back away and reach for the light grenade that you and Wylan had prepared. "It's good for you that you have the decency to show signs of fear."

"I'm afraid of what I must."

"And yet you are not so defenceless." Kaz raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Don't make a fool of yourself, Mr. Brekker. I can feel my moon's power everywhere. Especially when it's imbedded so much into one small object."

You tensed, remembering that you had given Kaz the necklace before he left for the Little Palace. A necklace whose pendant you poured so much moonlight into that no shadows could surround him while wearing it or only holding it.

Defence against the Darkling. Specially prepared for situations like this. However, handing it to him, you hoped the two would never meet, growling at each other like two rabid dogs.

"Y/N must have strong feelings for you to give you some of her power. And you for her. Putting your people and yourself at risk, your profit, your club. In the name of what, Mr. Brekker?"

"If you did thorough research on me, you'd know that all of Ketterdam knows I don't need a reason to do things."

"You'll never fully appreciate what she really is. But that's alright. Because I do." Aleksander let Dirtyhands' insult pass over his ears, trying to annoy him that much, so he let his guard down. You knew very well that method, just like you knew that Kaz wasn't foolish to fall for it.

"You've right. I'll never use her as a weapon or treat her like a saint. That's not what she wants. You may understand her powers, but you have no idea who she really is. What's in her mind. What are her dreams and desires. All you care about is her power, which I don't give a damn if she has or not. You see her only as a moon summoner. Not Y/N. You don't know the woman she was before Grisha's thing. You will never know how amazing and indescribable she was before Ravka. This is part of her that only I was allowed to see. You can't change the fact that I know her better than you."

"You're forgetting one important fact. You are a child, and she is Grisha. Y/N may take years to forgive me… but I can wait. Take away my shadows, and I still have something you don't. Time. Meanwhile, you will grow old. Your hair will grey, but she will remain ageless. Like me. Not mention your little inconvenience. Do you think you'll be able to touch her for more than a few minutes before your body grows old? That you'll be able to give her the life she deserves? We both know that one day, maybe a year from now, maybe fifty, she will realise that she has only one equal. There are no others like us, and there never will be. Even you can't change that, Mr. Brekker." he gave him a hostile look, laughing mockingly as he noticed that Kaz continued to back up with each step the Darkling took towards him until he did not stand in front of your hiding place. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. Time will do it for me." he summoned more of his shadows, wanting to scare him with his power. You three knew very well that with your necklace around his neck, no cut would kill him."You should have stayed in Ketterdam, Mr. Brekker."

At this point, you both decided to step in. Kaz threw his grenade, and you summoned your power, blinding the two of them. You grabbed Kaz's arm, and you both ran (as fast as his leg would allow). You stopped only a few corridors and stairs further, at the crossroads where you were all supposed to meet. Along the way, you avoided several fires that the tidemakers were busy with.

"What are you doing here?!" he growled furiously at you as you finally stopped, only making you more angry at his recklessness and attitude. He attacked and insulted the most powerful grisha. An 18-year-old with a cane and no powers.

"What am I doing here?! You tell me, what are you doing! You made him mad for no reason! You think now that he knows your identities, he'll let you go so easily? He will hunt you as long as he lives, just like me and Alina! Congratulations, Brekker!"

"I knew the risk." he replied angrily, looking around all four corridors.

"No, you didn't. You'd know a flimsy toy like that one, fucking grenade wouldn't be enough for him with all the amplifiers he's got."

"Well, I guess your little gift was strong enough to protect me. Which brings me to the question… why am I the only one blessed with this power from you?" he asked as he walked over to you, standing a few inches in front of you. You were both panting with quick anger, rage, and adrenaline, which was slowly draining from your systems.

"It's not your business, Brekker." you growled into his face and took a step, trying to avoid him, but his firm grip on your elbow stopped you.

You turned to face him, ready to yank your arm out of his grip and scream at him to fuck off, but all thoughts flew out of your head as soon as you looked into his mesmerising eyes, which were looking at you with concern and… love.

"It is my business." he leaned closer to you, just enough for you to feel his warmth and his scent, and far enough away not to touch you any more than he already did. "You... you're my most important business. And if something happens to you, if he catches you again..." he sighed, shaking his head, trying to find the right words as he licked his annoyed lips, unconsciously drawing your gaze to them and making you hold your breath for a moment, wanting something as forbidden and holy as kissing them. "I don't know how to... express my feelings. I don't know if I even understand them well enough. All I know is that I would rather die than see you enslaved and sorrowful... and it pains me to know that I'm too weak to protect you. That I'll always be too weak FOR YOU."

"You are literally everything but weak. In my eyes, you're the strongest person I know, Kaz. One of the very few to whom I would entrust my life in the blink of an eye."

"And yet I'm not enough for Grisha's love."

"How could you not be enough for something you already have?" Kaz's head snapped up as he watched you, befuddled in complete silence. You hesitantly reached for his hand, giving him enough time to pull away. He did not do. "And because I love you, I cannot be selfish with you. I cannot risk your life just because I have loved you since we were stupid teenagers." he squeezed your hand, too overwhelmed by his emotions to say anything. Fortunately, you understood him without any words.

Slowly, as if time had slowed down just for you two, he leaned towards you, resting his forehead against yours. You stood like that for a moment, enjoying the other's presence, forgetting that the palace was burning around you and probably 100 Grishas were chasing you.

"I will have you, Kaz Brekker. But only when it's safe for both of us." you promised him, whispering with your eyes still closed. "And for that to happen, I have to stay here. I have to make sure he doesn't go after you, that he will be distracted by me instead of planning your death.." you were about to extricate yourself from his grip, but the man only pulled you closer to him, not wanting to let you go.

"Please, don't. Stay with me. You're not a saint or a hero. You said it yourself. More than I could count."

"Kaz…" you took the ring off and put it on his little finger. "Keep it for me until I'm back. As a promise that whatever is going to happen next… I will be back for you." testing your luck, you placed a quick, tender kiss on his finger, feeling him tremble under your lips.

Before you got a chance to change your mind, you ran in the opposite direction, following the voice of the fighting Grishas.

You didn't turn around. You didn't steal a second glance at him, even though you knew he was watching you until you were out of sight. You knew the moment you looked into his eyes again, you'd change your mind.

You had to be strong.

For both of you. For your common future.

~•♤♤♤•~

When you regained consciousness, you weren't surprised that your hands had been handcuffed, so you couldn't use your powers. You were surprised to be greeted by the familiar sheets of Aleksander's comfortable bed.

And the Darkling himself was lying right next to you with his face towards you.

His eyes were closed, giving you a good look at the darker shadows under his eyes than before. Without knowing why, they disturbed you more than those lazily hovering around the bed. For a moment, you listened to his measured, calm breathing, which would probably confuse anyone else and give the illusory belief that the man next to you is sleeping. But you knew him much better than to fall for such a simple trick.

"I know how you breathe when you're sleeping, Aleksander."

"Maybe I was trying to fall asleep."

"Wearing a kefta? Doubtful." he opened one eye, staring at you silently. You felt your heart start beating faster from the nerves. You had no idea why you were here. Or at least you didn't want to admit it to yourself, so you decided to play the fool. "Are the dungeons undergoing some kind of refurbishment, or are they so full that you haven't found another place for me?"

He stared at you silently, deep in thought. He took his time to answer, playing with the strands of your hair that had escaped your bun from an earlier fight.

"It didn't seem like the right place for you" he finally whispered, making you even more suspicious.

"And where is my right place? After I stabbed you in the back so many times? In your bed? In your arms? As a weapon for your use? Where do you see me, Aleksander?"

"By my side. I've always seen you by my side." he answered at once, without a trace of hesitation in his voice. His shadow circled the room, caressing you from time to time. You didn't know if he was planning to let your guard down or if he had completely lost his mind.

"I don't understand. You should be mad at me. Why don't you hate me? Why are you still looking at me like... like you really have feelings for me? This is another one of your games, right? You want me to go completely crazy this time, don't you?"

"No, my little saint moon." he whispered, undaunted by your anger, gently cupping your chin so you had to look him in the eye. "All I ever wanted was someone equal to me. Why should I get mad at you when all you're doing is trying to find your way to me?"

"I don't…"

"Then why did you let them catch you? Don't try to lie to me, Y/N. I was there. I saw with my own eyes how you backed away from running away at the last moment. Why?"

"You know why." you whispered in a shaky voice. You closed your eyes, trying to protect yourself from the Black Heretic's penetrating gaze and show him the tears beginning to form in your eyes. "I have a million reasons why I should give you up, why I should hate you more than anyone else, but the truth is… my heart wants what it wants. And I don't think I can resist this anymore." you couldn't control your tears, but from the tender touch of his hand as he wiped them from your cheek and the clank of the handcuffs opening, you figured they were necessary for him to believe you.

"You have no idea how long…"

"No." you cut him off before he could say anything more." I have one question for you. Answer it right, and I'll forget about the last few months. Answer it right, and I promise you that you will never have to be alone again, that I'll always be by your side, along with your shadows and everything else that you truly are. That I will accept my destiny as being your moon. I won't let anyone scare me away from you ever again. I just… I need you to be completely honest with me. This one time." you cursed yourself at how weak your voice sounded when he grabbed your hand, kissing tenderly the places where the handcuffs were marked. "You don't have to tell me your whole plan; I just want to know… are all of these lies, battles, wars, deaths… just to keep the Grishas safe? You have no other intention behind this than to give our people home, where they don't have to be afraid of people who hate us and our powers?"

"I swear to you, my little moonstone, there is no other reason. I'm not a maniac drunk on power, as everybody tells you. I just want our people to be safe; I want to give them a world where we can explore the abilities of our power without fear of getting killed for being extraordinary. I can only do this with you by my side. As my equal. As a person who thinks like me and can keep up with my plans. As my partner. As the only one I can trust."

"Good." you nodded, cupping his cheek as you pulled him closer to you, so your lips caught each other again.

And maybe it was naive to think he bought your story about being completely devoted to him; maybe it was just another one of his games; maybe this time he really believed your words. Or maybe he was tired of pretending you didn't feel that strange attraction every time you were together.

You did not know. And you didn't want to know.

You gave into that burning desire every time you were near him, explaining to yourself that you had to earn his trust.

But there was much more to this one kiss than just lust.

It was a promise to you.

You will break his heart and make him hate you. You will drive him mad, drive him away, and then he will cast you out. Aleksander will come to think of you not as his lover but as his greatest enemy. Alina, Baghra and you gonna end the circle of unnecessary deaths.

And then you will finally be free...

Or at least... you will kill you both while trying to hate him as you should from the beginning.

[call-sign-shark]

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!You || The Darkling x HeartrenderOC!Reader

Summary: Your escape ends abruptly at the hands of the Drüskelles. And yet, on the night of your execution, the darkness has never been so warm and welcoming. Today is not the day you die, you hear it whispering.

Words: 3.2K

TW: Sexual assault attempt, graphic description of murders, mention of prostitution and child SA, hurt/comfort.

Part II - Their Frozen Shackles

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The thick rope they tied you up with bit into your slim wrists, their coarse fibers scraping your skin raw as you struggled against your bindings.

"Faster." A gargantuan soldier growled, pushing you with so much strength you tripped and almost fell on the snow-covered ground. You glared at him, your pale eyes briefly diving into his. After fleeing for one year, you finally got caught in the middle of nowhere. One minute you were walking through the frozen trees and the other you were shoved on the snow, a man's knee pressing on your back so painfully you couldn't breathe anymore. Those cursed Drüskelle had been prepared, ambushing you with a precision that left no room for escape. Now bound and gagged, you had no other choice than to follow them despite your weak body, aching from the journey's relentless pace.

Your captors barely spoke but their grim expressions as well as the disgust that was burning in their eyes each time they looked at you was a constant reminder of what awaited you in Fjerda. A joke of a trial. The stories of Grisha hunted like animals, dragged to the pyres where fire would consume them as crowds cheered, haunted you. So, that's how I'm going to die, you thought bitterly and a shiver ran through you. This time, it wasn't from the cold.

"Let's stop here for the night." The same rugged man from the North said.

The camp came alive as night fell, the Drüskelles setting up the perimeter with an efficiency that spoke of experience. Observing the silhouettes of tents and men, you let out a sigh at the unpleasant sensation of the cold gnawing at your cheeks. You were standing slumped against a tree, your legs and arms released from the bite of ropes only to be restrained by heavy and frozen shackles. Your white hair, matted with dirt and snow, clung to your seraphic face as you looked dagger at the men who dared approach a bit too close to your liking. Even chained and vulnerable, most of them didn't meet your gaze.

"She's quiet", one of them muttered, his tone uneasy but a sparkle of morbid curiosity twinkling in his dark pupils, "And she's so... frail." The soldier added, fascinated by how the witch's long white hair danced in the wind.

"She's dangerous," another corrected and, by reflex, his grip tightened on his axe, "Don't let her tricks nor look fool you. She's a goddamn murderous witch. And the worst of them."

A witch. A monster. An abomination. You had heard it all before and yet, the sharp edges of those words still cut you deep. Closing your eyes, you did your best to steady your breath and fight against the frustration of not being able to use your powers to break free.

The camp was quiet under the shroud of night, save for the occasional crackle of dying fires or the muffled rustle of snow beneath the guard's boots. While most of them were comfortably sleeping in their tents, the cruel wind that swept through the barren forest cut to your bones, but you had stopped noticing it. The cold had long since seeped into your skin, the frozen chain that bound your wrists pressing against your wounds. You sat in the cage they put you in, knees pulled to your chest and your snow-white mane tumbling around you like a grim shroud. The feeling of powerlessness crept into you, twisting your stomach and making you grind your teeth. That burning hatred simmered in you but what could you do except wait? Wait for this nightmare to end. Wait for your inevitable death.

You remained still, your icy aquamarine gaze locked on the frost-covered bars of your cage. As far as you can remember, rage has always coiled in you like a living thing and no matter your divine appearance, you were all but a saint. Nor a martyr. Just a storm waiting to roar.

The sound of boots crunching against the snow suddenly broke your reverie though. The Drüskelle captain who kept pushing you a few hours ago strode toward you, his tall and muscular frame looking even more massive against the dim firelight. Still, you could see his face in the twilight: a rough-hewn face, with a scar slicing through his brow and a look of cold, cruel authority etched on it. His long blonde hair was tied in a quick, messy man bun.

"Change of plans," he said to the guards who were watching you, "We're not dragging her back to Fjerda. Can't take the risk."

One of the guards hesitated. He looked at his fellow brother before he spoke. “But the trial—”

“No trial,” the captain snapped, refusing to wait for him to finish his sentence. “I’ll take her head myself. It’s cleaner this way. Fewer men dead because they underestimated what’s in that cage.” His voice was a low and predatory rumble.

Your chest tightened at his words, but you refused to flinch. It was something you never did in the Menagerie and you weren't going to start now. Even though you had remained quiet since they caught you, your eyes met his sky-blue gaze with defiance, "Afraid, are you? That's wise" Your voice, haunting and steady, howled with the winter wind.

The captain's lips curled into a thin, mocking smile. "You think you're clever, don't you, witch?" With one brutal shove, he pushed the guard out of his way and motioned for the others to step back, "I've seen your kind burn and, trust me, y'all scream the same in the end."

Brutal rage flashed within you as the captain opened the cage himself under his men's terrified eyes, stepping inside with the same disgusting look your wealthy client had on their face back at the Menagerie: the look of a man who thought he held all the power over you. His strong hand suddenly grabbed your wrist and forced you to stand.

"Before we finish this," He murmured, leaning over you until his face was level with yours. His unfinished sentence floated in the air as his eyes fell on your fleshy lips, chapped due to the cold, "I think I'll indulge myself. Never had a witch before. Pretty sure you're tight pussy might worth the risk and keep me warm in this cruel weather."

He reached out, brushing a gloved hand against your cheek. The sudden physical contact made your stomach churn with revulsion. A shiver of fear crawled beneath your skin, cold and sharp as a blade, at the thought of this man ravaging you. Despite your stillness, a tinge of fear pinched your heart for all your life men had used your body as if it was nothing but a toy to twist and break.

"Fucking animal." You whispered back to him without faltering. If anything, your eyes hardened, the frost within them sharper than the crisp winter air.

"I do fuck like an animal, y'know. Like a wolf." The captain leaned closer, all his height towering over you and his breath hot against your face, "Terrifying, they say. That you can kill with one sole movement of your little hands..." His hand trailed down your jaw to your throat, lingering there to feel your pulse quicken under his touch, "But here you are, helpless as a lamb." His hand freed your throat as he spoke but the relief was short for this time, he cupped one of your small breasts, "I wonder, does the evil witch they talk about bleed like a woman?" Fear followed close behind, a visceral feeling that bloomed in your chest as he started painfully playing with your nipple -- bile rose when he pressed his hardening cock between your legs, "Is your cunt tighter?"

You didn't respond, or struggle. In fact, you simply stared at him, until his smug confidence began to flicker with unease and his ego hurt by your lack of fear.

"What?" He snapped, gripping your chin roughly with his free hand, "No threat? No last words?"

To this, your only reply was a faint smile that ghosted across your lips, brittle as ice, "Just this: you should've killed me when you had the chance."

Before the captain could retort, the shadows seemed to shift around you. Then, the fire flickered, dimmed, and extinguished entirely even though the wind was low.

"What's happening?!" One of the Drüskelles hissed, his voice filled with fear as he looked around him. An unexplainable panic started to fill the camp, the air thickening with an oppressive weight that pressed against your chest and stole your breath. The darkness around you seemed to pulse, alive and watchful, carrying a power that made your blood hum in recognition — but in recognition of what? you thought, feeling suddenly as frightened by this suffocating presence as your captors. It was heavy, unsettling, as if an imminent threat other than you was about to be unleashed. And yet, contrary to the Drüskelles', you felt something deeper beneath the unease. A pull that felt like a whisper in your bones, calling you home.

Come to me.

I’ve been waiting for you all my life.

Come to me.

A figure emerged from the darkness, cloaked in black, his movement unnervingly calm amidst the chaos. The shadows clung to this tall silhouette like a living thing, shifting and weighting as though they obeyed his every wish and command.

"Who's there? Who the fuck are you?!" The leader barked, pushing himself away from you to reach for his sword and unsheathe it.

The mysterious and threatening man didn't answer. Instead, he raised a gloved hand and, all of sudden, the shadows that were dancing around him surged forward like panthers pouncing on a bunch of easy prey. The screams came next, sharp and agonizing, tearing the silent veil of the night as the darkness attacked the Drüskelle one by one — some devoured, swallowed by it, others cut into pieces by pitch-black blades.

Utterly terrified, you dropped to the ground, turned your head away and squeezed your eyes shut just like you did when you were a child. Your stomach twisted again as the air around you filled with the wet, choking sounds of death and the metallic smell of blood you knew far too well. The Drüskelles' shrieks were inhumane, otherworldly wrapped in pain, but all you could hear was the loud drums of your heart beating so violently in your chest that you thought it would burst your ribcage open.

Only when the silence returned did you dare open your eyes, blinking and cautiously surveying your surroundings for you feared the slightest hasty movement would cost you your life. The sight that met your icy eyes squeezed the air out of you again — a dozen bodies laid discarded on the ground, mangled in such a gruesome way that you felt slightly sick in the stomach, even with your high tolerance to horrors. Slowly, you moved your feet and crunched the snow beneath them to check if you were still alive: the snow around you was drenched in crimson, stark and jarring against its pale coat, and forming long trails like veins spreading through the ice.

Then the shock wore off, leaving its place to another surge of panic: the creature responsible for such manslaughter was still there. You raised your head with hast, looking for it.

The figure stepped closer and as he did the pale moonlight faintly illuminated his face, unveiling the traits of a man, not the wraith you were expecting. The more he walked toward you, the more his physical traits came into sharp focus. Your eyes locked onto his, breath still caught in your throat as he fully emerged from the shadows — hypnotizing features carved with precision, framed by black hair perfectly slicked back. His deep-set eyes, two haunting obsidians, glimmered with an unfathomable intensity, their depths both alluring and dizzying like the event horizon of two soul-sucking black holes. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on him, observing his angular jawline, the shadow of his beard and the way his seductive lips were curved in a faint, enigmatic smirk that exuded both charm and danger.

General Kirigan.

He knelt before you, his dark eyes sweeping over your huddled-up form, "You've caused quite a stir," he said calmly, his voice surprisingly smooth and tinged with a barely perceptible amusement. His long black coat draped over his form like liquid darkness, blending with the night.

“And you’ve made a mess,” You retorted after a few long seconds, carefully relaxing your shoulders and raising your head.

The corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. “Only a necessary one.” With a slight flick of his wrist, the shadows suddenly cut through your shackles and dropped on the bloodied snow with a muffled thud. As soon as you could move, you rubbed your raw and bruised wrists to soothe the soreness — your gaze never left his.

"Why are you here?" Your tone was wary, but far from trembling.

Kirigan straightened, his tall and lean body towering over you as he offered his gloved hand, "I've come for you" he replied, the inky abyss of his eyes was laced with an unearthly gleam, both inviting and terrifying. For a brief moment, you felt as if he could see into the deepest corners of your soul, the sensation was worse than being stripped naked in the cold, "I've been looking for you and I must admit that you are quite good at hiding."

Your jaw tightened, still taken aback by his magnetic presence and the adrenaline, but you finally took his hand and let him pull you to your feet. Despite the leather of his glove, you could feel the jarring warmth of his touch, which created a stark contrast to the coldness of the night. Back on your feet, you had expected him to release your hand but he did the opposite — his long fingers gently squeezed it, trying to warm your skin up.

"What do you want from me?" You pressed, behaving like a wild and cornered animal no matter the fear that clawed at you.

"What do I want?" He echoed, his voice velvet and firm at the same time. Kirigan's gaze lingered on you, observing the tiniest details of your face just like you did. You were a vision of unsettling perfection, as though carved from ice and shadow. Your snow-white hair — damp because of the snow — cascaded in silken slight waves to your lower back and framed a face that seemed too delicate to be real. "I want like most people want when they hear tales and rumors," He drawled, his black eyes fascinated by your porcelain skin. Your features were impossibly dainty, the kind of beauty that felt so otherworldly that it came off as eerie. To be honest, reminded him of a broken doll. Your heart missed a beat when you noticed his pupils dropping on your plump, inviting lips, tinted like frost-kissed rose petals, "I want to unravel the mystery."

You could not help but snort, "A mystery... And why should I trust you, then?"

Aleksander shrugged off his black coat in one swift motion and stepped closer to drape it over your frail shoulders with unexpected care. The weight of the coat was grounding and the warmth from his body, still deeply woven with the fabric, seeped into your cold skin. "You don’t have to trust me, but consider your alternatives. You’ve seen what they wanted from you.” His gaze flicked to the Drüskelle corpses scattered nearby, then back to you. The beautiful contrast of the dark coat against your small and pale figure made you seem even more delicate, like a fragile snowflake caught in a storm. His hands lingered briefly on the edges, steadily and protectively, before he stepped back from your private space.

'You’re no different. You want something from me, too." You said but grabbed the collar of his coat and lift it to your throat to protect you from the wind.

"Of course I do,” Aleksander retorted, “But I’m offering you something in return. Freedom. Safety. A chance to control the power that terrifies them. Or would you rather keep running, waiting for the next set of chains?”

His words felt like a punch in the guts. Chains. The simple mention of it made all your body tense. Your breath hitched but remained silent.

"I don’t think you want to be afraid anymore. Don't you think you deserve more than a life on the run?”

You studied him, your icy eyes narrowing, as if searching for cracks in his composure. Or instruction to decipher his intentions “And if I say no?”

He tilted his head, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “Then I leave. You’ll never see me again.” His voice dipped, a subtle thread of urgency weaving through. Aleksander sounded sincere, but a part of him knew that he was openly lying: letting you run away was not an option, "But you know I'm right, even though you'd probably hate admitting it."

Your cold fingers curled into the fabric of his coat as your mind try to come up with a solution. Yet, exhaustion was weighing on your shoulders like lead now that the adrenaline was wearing off, making his promise of safety even more tempting. You finally exhaled, shoulders slumping. "Fine."

"Let's get you some food and a warm bath." He said, the ghost of a smile flirting with his lips for a brief moment as he offered you his hand again.

You hesitated before taking it, your small and bloodied fingers disappearing into his gloved palm. The promise of something filling to eat and a comfortable place to sleep definitely convinced you.

Moments later, General Kirigan helped you climb onto the back of his black horse. The mighty beast's hairs were gleaming like onyx under the moonlight and a little voice in your head couldn't help but wonder if the animal too was made of shadow. Too drained to argue or ask other questions, you leaned against his back as he mounted, your body limp except for your arms wrapped around his waist. Admittingly, his warmth was an unexpected comfort against the chill of the night and the latest events. Despite yourself, you let your head rest lightly against his shoulder and tried your best to forget about the Drüskelle Captain's hands roaming all over you. To forget about the clients' hands too.

Aleksander stiffened for the briefest moment, surprised by the sudden sensation of your small frame pressing against his back. A flicker of something unnameable crossed his face —possessive, almost tender— before a satisfied smirk crept over his lips. The general's hands tightened around the reins as if anchoring himself too, the faintest whisper of a thought blooming in his mind: Mine.

"Rest now," he said softly, riding into the night. His soothing voice lulled you, resulting in your eyes fluttering close, "You're safe with me."

And though you weren't sure you believed him, for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to hope.

taglist: @lunawants , @emtaz-art, @lightinbug, @kmc1989, @thepassionatereader

Please consider reblogging and commenting. It is what motivates writers.

[batmanlovesnirvana]

— The name he buried

pairing : the darkling | aleksander morozova x sun summoner fem!OC

tags : some of my fave grishaverse accounts on here @stromuprisahat @aleksanderscult @is-today-tomorrow-in-nz @kasagia & @devoted-people-hater who asked to be added on the tags <3

words : + 2,6k

notes : sooo here’s a little snippet from my fic ‘Solar Børealis’ that I’ve been nervous to share (lol)... It’s one of the first scenes I wrote between Aleksander and Sunna, inspired by the iconic lines: “What should I call you? You must have a name. Everyone does.” and “Slaves do not have names.” (thanks to @black-rose-writings for the reblog and @yototothelalafell-deactivated20 for the original post!). Would love to hear what you all think, and if I managed to keep the Darkling true to canon. Hopefully he doesn’t feel too OOC!!! :) I apologize for any mistakes; English is not my first language.

THE FOREST lay in a veil of mist, hushed in a way that made every sound seem sacred.

The only break in the silence was the steady rhythm of hooves pressing into the damp earth, a soft pulse that echoed between the towering trees.

The air carried the scent of moss and rain, cool against their skin as they rode in a shared silence that stretched on, heavy yet unspoken.

Sunniva's eyes wandered toward him—the Darkling—General of the Grisha. His presence was unnerving in its quiet intensity, his expression unreadable, his figure almost blending with the deep shadows that clung to the forest floor.

Standing atop his black horse, he appeared as though he were a living part of the darkness itself, all sharp lines and mystery. His black cloak draped around him like the night sky, merging seamlessly with the world around him, making it impossible to discern where he ended and the shadows began.

It unnerved her—the way he seemed so ethereal, so impossibly perfect, as if sculpted from a dream she couldn't wake from. His beauty was unnaturally precise, a handsomeness that stirred something within her that she could neither name nor understand. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, ashamed of the thoughts that fluttered unbidden to her mind.

Mammá would have scolded her, a disapproving frown creasing her brow. “Don’t stare at strangers, Nana,” she would say, her tone gentle yet firm. “It’s not proper for a Fjerdan lady.”

Yet, even when her eyes fell, they were drawn back to him, as if compelled by an invisible force. It was like trying to resist the pull of the moon over the tides—a futile effort, a gentle surrender.

Her curiosity gnawed at her, sharp and restless, refusing to be silenced by the quiet.

Finally, she spoke, her voice soft yet cutting through the stillness, "What should I call you ?" The question hung in the cool air, fragile yet persistent, one she'd longed to ask since their first meeting. "You must have a name. Everyone does."

The Darkling didn't look at her, his gaze fixed ahead as he guided his horse through the narrow trail. His silence lingered so long she wondered if he would answer at all.

"Slaves do not have names," he said at last, his voice low and cold, but there was a weight to his words—a bitter edge that struck something deeper.

Sunniva blinked, taken aback by the statement. "Slaves?" she echoed, her dark brows furrowing. "You're no slave."

"Not now, perhaps," he replied, his tone as smooth as ice, though she detected a flicker of something beneath it. "But I was born into a world that would have seen me bound, powerless, just like them." He glanced at her then, his eyes like storm clouds on the verge of breaking, dark and turbulent, yet gleaming with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "I broke those chains."

She stared at him, her heart pounding harder. "And now you bind others in them?"

He laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Is that what you think, little saint? That I revel in control? In power over others?"

Sunniva stiffened, straightening her back as she shifted her position in the saddle. The way he uttered "little saint" made her feel small, insignificant. Instinctively, she brought her thumb to her lips, nervously biting the corner. But she wasn't about to retreat. "Well," she lowered her hand, as if suddenly remembering herself, "you rule through fear, don't you?" Her brows arched in challenge.

"Fear," he murmured, a faint smile curling at his lips, "is a tool. It maintains order, where kindness would invite only chaos."

"And what would you invite?" Sunniva countered, her pulse quickening. "What do you really want?"

The horses slowed, and the Darkling pulled his to a stop. He dismounted smoothly, his black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. She hesitated, but followed, her boots sinking into the soft moss of the forest floor.

He stepped closer, his presence a looming shadow that consumed the silence between them. He towered over her, her head just reaching his broad shoulders, but she stood firm, crossing her arms in a silent attempt to show she wouldn’t be intimidated. His long fingers, adorned with silver rings, brushed the edge of her sleeve, the touch so light it almost felt unreal—yet it was enough to catch her breath.

His gaze, sharp and searching, roamed over her as the sunlight pierced through the leaves, turning her pale hair into threads of spun gold. His eyes lingered on the beauty mark beneath her eye, where her dark brows stood in striking contrast against her fair skin, and then settled on her eyes—deep green, like the heart of an untouched forest after the rain, harboring secrets she hadn't yet revealed.

She was a creature of contrasts—fragile and fierce, light and shadow intertwined. She looked like something otherworldly, a Saint made flesh.

And though he knew he should resist, the pull was irresistible—magnetic, a force beyond defiance. It ensnared him, hypnotic and inescapable.

Foolish boy, his mother’s voice echoed in his mind, but he silenced it. Her beauty—the gentle curve of her high cheekbones and the way the sunlight danced around her—made her seem untouchable. The lavender scent that clung to her was both intoxicating and haunting, lingering in his senses. Yet, there she stood before him, flesh and blood. Real.

"What do I want?" he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. His eyes drifted lower, tracing the scattered beauty marks along her neck before his hand rose to her chest, gently clasping the pendant that hung there. The sun-shaped charm caught the light, and his rough fingers moved over it with surprising tenderness, as though it held some profound significance.

"I want to change this world, Sunniva," he said, his tone tightening with fierce determination. "I want to tear it apart and rebuild it. I want to make Ravka safe for us—for the Grisha. To end its endless wars, to protect it from the chaos that constantly threatens to consume it. So no one ever has to suffer like we have."

She met his gaze, her heart hammering. "We?"

For a moment, something flickered in his grey eyes—something almost vulnerable, but just as quickly, it vanished. He stepped back, the distance between them sharp and sudden.

"I've lived too long to believe in naive dreams," he said quietly, his voice colder now, the warmth from moments before slipping away. "But you—you're still searching for hope in a world that has none."

Sunniva clenched her fists, holding herself back from moving closer. "Maybe hope is all some of us have left." Her Fjerdan accent, still softly woven through her voice, was like a distant melody—one that resonated with him, haunting and beautiful, as if it carried the weight of an ancient song.

The general looked at her for a long time, something unreadable passing over his features. Then, without another word, he turned back toward his horse, leaving her standing in the stillness of the forest, the tension between them thick enough to drown in.

Sunniva watched him mount again, her heart in her throat, pulse racing, but she couldn't leave the conversation unfinished. Not now.

She stepped forward, her voice more sure than she felt. "You didn't answer me! What should I call you? You have a name, don't you?"

The Darkling, still mounted, turned his head slightly. His eyes flicked back to her, the shadows around him seeming to deepen. "Names are for those who seek to be known."

"And you?" she challenged, her gaze steady. "You prefer to remain a mystery?"

A ghost of a smile played at the corners of his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Perhaps you're not ready for the answer."

Sunniva's jaw tightened. She was tired of his evasiveness, of the way he danced around everything while making her feel like she was always one step behind. Stepping boldly closer, she crossed her arms and lifted her chin in defiance. "Try me," she challenged, then added, "or should I keep calling you Wrönche?"

For a long moment, he said nothing, simply watching her with that intense gaze of his, as though weighing her very soul. The silence stretched on, charged with the tension that had been building between them from the moment they'd first met.

Then, finally, he dismounted once more, the air between them crackling as he closed the space.

"I was born Aleksander," he said softly, the name slipping from his lips as if it were a secret long buried. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable. "But that name belongs to a boy who died long ago."

Sunniva's breath caught.

Aleksander.

It sounded so... human, so unlike the shadow he had become. She had expected something else, something distant, something cold. But this—this was a piece of him that felt real.

"Aleksander," she whispered, almost testing the name on her tongue. It felt intimate, strange. "Is that why you hide behind the Darkling? To bury that part of yourself?"

His expression hardened immediately, the softness vanishing in an instant. He stepped closer, his towering presence making the air feel thin. "Do not presume to know me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I am not someone you can save with a name."

Sunniva stood her ground, though her heart pounded against her ribs. "Maybe not. But I think you're someone who wants to be saved, whether you admit it or not."

The Darkling’s chuckle was low and dark. “Saved, she says,” he muttered, as if the very idea amused him. His gaze flickered over her, assessing. “What makes you think I need saving?”

Sunniva didn’t flinch. “Because no one chooses to live in shadow unless they’re trying to escape something.”

His smirk faded slightly, his jaw tensing. “You know nothing of what I’ve endured.”

“Maybe not,” she admitted, her voice soft but unyielding. “But I see the way you carry it—like a weight you refuse to set down.”

His eyes darkened, the forest seemed to dim with them. “You speak of things you don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think.” She stepped forward, daring to close the distance between them. “You think power will fill the emptiness, that control will erase the pain. But it won’t. You can’t outrun it.”

His jaw clenched, and for a split second, she thought she saw something raw flicker across his face—anger, perhaps, or pain. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

He leaned in, so close she could feel the chill radiating from him. "Hope is a weakness, Sunniva," he whispered, his voice like a dark wind curling around her. "It makes you soft, it blinds you to the reality of this world. You think you can change me? I've outlived hope."

"Maybe you have. But I haven't." Her throat tightened, but she refused to look away. "You're a pessimist—"

"No, realist." Aleksander's eyes bore into hers, the tension between them so thick it was suffocating. He was so close now, his breath brushing against her cheek, the scent of earth and something ancient lingering in the air. For a moment, she wasn't sure if he would push her away or pull her closer.

"Realist?" she scoffed, her voice trembling with defiance. "You've given up hope. That’s not realism, that’s surrender."

Aleksander's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer, the air between them crackling. "Hope?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hope doesn’t win wars. Hope doesn’t keep our people safe. Power does."

She lifted her chin, refusing to back down. "And what about peace? What about all of this—" she gestured to the world around them— "Is this your idea of protection? Of safety?"

"I already told you Sunniva. I want to make Ravka safe for us. For Grisha," he said, his voice lowering, thick with frustration and something deeper, almost pleading. "I want to end Ravka’s endless wars, stop the bloodshed, and protect it—protect us—from those who would destroy us."

"And at what cost, Aleksander?" Sunniva's voice softened, the fight slowly draining from her. "How far are you willing to go?"

His gaze flickered with something unreadable, his face hardening into resolve. "As far as I have to."

The weight of his words hung between them, thick and unyielding, as if they had pushed a wall between them. Sunniva could feel the gravity of his conviction, the depth of his determination, and it chilled her to the bone. He wasn’t the type to back down—not when he believed so completely in what he was fighting for.

Then, just as quickly, he stepped back, the tension releasing like a snapped thread. Aleksander turned his face away, looking toward the trees, shadows playing across his sharp features. His voice, when it came again, was quieter, almost resigned. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I'm not afraid of you," Sunniva said, though the words felt like a dare.

His dark eyes slid back to hers, his expression unreadable. "You should be."

Sunniva’s frustration boiled over, her voice trembling with barely controlled anger. “I don’t even know why I care,” she spat, her voice tight. "This isn’t my land. Not my country. Not my people." She took a step toward him, her hands shaking. "But your soldiers—they came through my village. They took my brother, took others… and what for? They destroyed everything. My family, my home, my life—shattered, because of your people."

Aleksander’s gaze hardened. “Your brother was drüskelle, Sunniva. A killer of Grisha. He hunted us—”

“You can justify my brother. Fine. He fought in your war. He made his choices.” She cut him off, her voice rising, raw. “But what about my sisters? My parents? They weren’t part of your war! They weren’t drüskelle. They weren’t hunters. They were just… they were just living their lives, Aleksander! And now they’re gone, all of them, because your men—your war—came to our doorstep and swallowed them whole!”

He opened his mouth, but her words were relentless, spilling out faster than he could respond.

“My parents didn’t even know what a Grisha was! My sisters? They were just children. They didn’t care about the war, they didn’t care about your power, or the politics that go with it. But you sent your soldiers, and now they're gone. I’ve lost everything, and you expect me to stand by your people? Your country ? To trust you?”

Aleksander’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he regained his composure, his voice low and fierce. "I didn’t order their deaths, Sunniva. I ordered the capture of the drüskelle. Your brother was one of them. Do you understand that? They hunted my—our people. They hunted me.”

“And what about the rest?” she demanded, her voice cracking. “What about my sisters? My parents? You may not have ordered their deaths, but they died all the same. Your war—your quest—it stole them from me."

“And what about the Grisha who died before your family? Your village? The centuries of torture and persecution?” Aleksander’s voice was tight with fury, his jaw clenched so hard it seemed his teeth might shatter. He was seething, each word a flame, burning through the cold between them.

Sunniva stayed silent, unable to find an answer, her throat tightening around the emotions she could no longer voice.

He stepped closer, the barely contained rage in his eyes flickering with something else—something deeper. “I didn’t choose this war, Sunniva. The drüskelle choose it the moment they came for us. I am trying to build a world where no more innocents—Grisha or otherwise—have to live in fear. Where your family, your sisters, would still be safe.”

Sunniva let out a bitter, broken laugh, shaking her head. "Safe? You think you're building a world where people like my family would be safe? No. You're just replacing one kind of fear with another. You’re trying to control everything. Maybe you think it's for some greater good, but all you're doing is leaving more destruction in your wake.”

His gaze turned cold, resolute. “I’m doing what I must. For Ravka. For the Grisha. Whatever the cost is.”

She stared at him, tears burning in her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re destroying lives in the name of saving them.”

For a moment, something flickered in his expression—regret, or perhaps the weight of his own choices—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. His voice was steely again. “If I don't, who will? The Grisha have been hunted for centuries. You think peace will come without a price?”

He swung back onto his horse, the leather creaking beneath him, but the tension was unmistakable—his jaw clenched tightly as before. Running a hand through his thick, dark hair, he ruffled it absentmindedly, the cold distance between them quickly returning as he resumed the mantle of leader.

Sunniva's chest tightened, her heart racing in her throat. “But what if it’s too late for all of us?” She pressed on, “What do you plan to do?”

The silence felt suffocating, the questions lingering in the air pressing down on her as she wrestled with the enormity of their situation.

His gaze shifted to the horizon, where dark clouds gathered ominously, casting a shadow over the landscape. “What needs to be done,” he declared, his tone firm yet lacking warmth.

Frustration bubbled within Sunniva, and she huffed in annoyance, angrily brushing the tears from her cheeks.

When he turned to her, the coldness in his expression was as stark as ever, and in that moment, she recognized the depths of his burden—the weight of loss and horror etched into every line of his face.

But before she could organize her thoughts or find the right words, Aleksander’s sharp retort cut through the air like a blade. He glanced back at her, his face set in a cold, unyielding mask, making it clear that he had no intention of softening his stance.

"You think I don’t understand loss? I’ve watched my people slaughtered for centuries. You’ve lost, yes. But so have I. So have most of us. Don’t you dare lecture me on the cost of war."

Sunniva’s breath hitched, her voice cracking with fury and grief. "You think your loss gives you the right to take everything from everyone else? You think that justifies all of this? You think it makes you different from the ones you claim to be fighting?"

His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. "I’m not like them. I’m saving my people, my country."

Her laugh was bitter, hollow. "At what cost, Aleksander? You’re not saving anyone. You’re just creating more graves."

His eyes flashed, but instead of responding, he turned his face toward the trees, his voice icy, a final warning. "Again Sunniva, you don’t know what you’re asking for. And you don’t understand the burden I carry."

She took a step back, her voice trembling with finality. “Maybe I don’t. But I won’t carry it with you.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his back to her, his grip tightening on the reins. When he finally spoke, his voice was sharp and cold, cutting through the air like frost. “Then don’t.” He spurred his horse forward, his words hitting like a lash. “Spare us both the trouble.”

She flinched at the harshness in his tone, but he didn’t look back.

Sunniva stared after him, her heart heavy. She was angry at him. At herself. At everyone.

The weight of it all pressed against her chest, suffocating, relentless. Maybe he was right, and that was what hurt the most. Each breath felt like a battle against a truth she didn’t want to accept, a truth that gnawed at her insides and wouldn’t let go.

Neither uttered another word as they rode through the forest, the silence colder than Ravka's harshest winds.

Yet, Sunniva couldn’t shake the sense that the battle wasn’t over.

She had seen Aleksander—just for a fleeting moment—beneath the darkness, beneath the icy armor of power and fear.

And now, she couldn’t let him slip away.

I didn’t know how to end it … and like I said, this is just a snippet :) I’m probably going to change/cut things later

Børealis : references the Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights), a natural light display in the Earth’s sky, often seen in high-latitude regions.

Wrönche : Darkling (a term used by the Fjerdans/Drüskelle during the forest scene in the first episode)

[carnationworld-writings]

I'm just a jealous guy (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Aleksander Morozova x Grisha!reader

Universe: The Grishavers /Shadow and bone 

Word Count: 1221

Requested: Yes, by my sweet annon.

Warnings: mention of jealousy, shouting someone out, mention death (Luda), making out, a quick mention of sexual activity - it ends before something happened.

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your wellbeing is important to me!

Summary: The one where he is jealous. 

Aleksander walked through the corridors of Little Palace, trying to find one of his most trusted Grisha, who was also the person who made his heart beat a little faster. He lived for centuries, hiding his identity from people, always hiding his emotions, and always striving to achieve his goals. But then they showed on his path - a person with great power and strong will. A person who always cared for the people they loved and who found a way to parts of his heart that he’d forgotten. Somehow, they’d ended up sitting together into late nights, talking about everything but plans for Grishas’ training or plans for the army. He allowed himself to open up for the first time since he lost Luda, and for the first time, he allowed himself to feel again. He was afraid to call it as it was, but the truth was that he loved them. And they loved him. 

The Darkling walked to the training yard, not minding Grishas, who welcomed him. He quickly knew he was in the right place and finally found them. He first heard their soft laugh and then saw them in the middle of the training yard with Fedyor, surrounded by younger Grishas. He knew that they loved to teach them, and they only showed these kids how to defend themself. But something deep in his mind made him angry at the sight of Fedyor’s hand around them. He watched how he moved his hands to their sides and started to tickle them. They squealed at the feeling and tried to escape from him, laughing loudly. The Darkling watched how close they were and how fondly they looked at each other. The betrayal blossomed in his chest. They gently tapped the Heartrender’s chest, smiling widely. Kirigan couldn’t watch it anymore and turned on his heel, quickly going to his chambers. What he didn’t know, they saw him at the last moment, and they started worrying about his hurried departure. They ended her part of the lesson and asked Fedyor to watch their training when they went after their General. After a few moments, they knocked on the doors of his cabinet. They smiled at the sound of this deep voice telling anyone behind them that he was busy. They dared to open them and snicked in, biting their lower lip. 

“Maybe you’ll find a second for me, General?” They leaned against the door, watching him. They knew that even if he didn’t raise his head from maps, he knew it was them. They smiled at how his black kefta perfectly wrapped his tall body. 

“Make it quick. I have a war to win.” They sighed and came closer to him, gently touching his elbow. When he didn’t change his position, they dared to lean against him, resting their cheek on his arm. They could tell that he was tense, and they hated it.

“I know, handsome, and you’re doing an amazing job. But even you, great General Kirigan, need some rest. And I saw you at the training yard.”

“You saw me?” He said mockingly. “You seemed busy with this Heartrender.” He moved away, taking his arm from their grip, and they looked at him surprised. They laughed breathlessly, standing in front of him.

“With Fedyor? He is only my friend. A very close friend, who was the first one to welcome me here with open arms and who made me feel at home here.” They said with a small smile, which faded when he constantly pretended they were not there. “If you want to accuse me of something, say it aloud rather than shutting me out.” When he heard the sadness in their voice, he stopped moving, and his eyes landed on the war figures in front of him. After a few seconds, he breathed deeply.

“Are they really ‘just a friend’?” He murmured without raising his head. 

“Of course, they are just a friend. If you want to know, Fedyor lately was on a few dates with a person you know very well.”

“With who?” Alexander knew about their love for gossip. With time he discovered that it brought both of them joy, so he started encouraging them to spill a bean about it. He also wanted to be wholly sure that they were only his and that there wasn’t anybody else in their life.

“With your own personal Corporalki.” They couldn’t stop a big smile when he looked at them stunned. 

“With Ivan?” They nodded, carefully watching his face. He started thinking about the latest behaviour of this man. “He was a little strange lately, in fact. Like… Happier.” They couldn’t stop the smile rising on their face, and once again, they tried to slowly touch his forearm. They breathed with relief when he didn’t move away this time. 

“Because they are, both of them. Like I am happy when you are next to me because only our loved one can pull some of the strings in our hearts and make it beat faster in that specific way. So I will say it once again. They are only my friend. It’s YOU who has my heart.” They gently squeezed his arm, and finally, he moved closer to them with a look on his face reserved only for time when they were alone. His hands mindlessly moved to their hips, and in a quick move, he made them sit on the table behind them. They let the squeak leave their throat, making him smile widely at what they started laughing. Their hands slowly moved to rest on his shoulders, and one of them mindlessly started fidgeting with the ends of the hair on his neck. 

“You… You made me happy, you know?” He whispered sheepishly, and they could only smile wider.

“I know. Were you jealous?” They bit her lips to stop grinning, especially when they saw a flush coming into his cheeks. He looked above them, trying to compose himself. Before he could answer, they leaned down and softly kissed his bearded cheek. “Please, don’t deny it. It actually… flatters me, you know? I… I always dreamed of having a person who would care for me enough to do it. Even if there isn’t any reason for that.” 

The Darkling gently squeezed their hips, standing between their legs. His hand moved to their thigh, caressing it gently.

“I do care. Every single look from other men or women is enough to feel jealousy in me. To want to show all of them that you are mine.”

“And I always will be.” They whispered, and General immediately leaned down, kissing them deeply. One of his hands moved to the back of their head, gently moving it to allow him better access while the other kept them close. They moaned into his lips, wrapping one leg around him, wanting to feel every centimetre of his body. They were so lost in each other that they didn’t hear the knock on the door or that somebody had walked in. They were too busy unfastening his kefta to care about anything. Poor Ivan closed the door quicker than he ever opened them. After a moment of shock, Corporalki felt happiness for his General and his friend - even a dark soul like him deserved some light and love in the arms of a trusted person.

Author’s note: Thank you  so much for reading! If it’s not too much trouble, I would love to hear your thoughts about it. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and motivate me to work.

I am sorry about every grammar mistake and misspellings. English is not my first language.

Klaudia  💜

Taglists are always open! If you want to be added fill this up or send me an ask!

[roselibrary]

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 || 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

The Darkling x OC Brekker/Rietveld (Grisha Character)

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: the generals night sky was what they called her. She made his world glow and in doing so he promised her anything she wished.

Requests are open!

Kaz Brekker often wondered if his sister missed him. He wondered if she ever reminisced about her time with them before she went away. Before she became Grisha. His memory is faint, but he remembers well enough the bright grin, kind eyes that shone their brightest in the dark, the long dresses she favoured and the tight corsets that he only now understands were used as a means of attracting attention. His sister had adored that. Adored the attention her gift gave her. She shone like the stars she commanded flying fast and free and blinked out of sight in his mind just as they did each night. His sister was a shooting star one that had long since left his atmosphere with no intention of returning.

Kaz Brekker remembered the day they came. The red keftas and the blue all stood fiercely in front of his sister who held her otherworldly glow. Then he came, tall, dark, and fierce; a black kefta that swirled about him just as his shadows did. He brought forth the darkness and Kaz watched as his sister glowed; he watched as the stars filled the man's shadows and encircled them both like they, too, were constellations in the sky. Kaz knew, as he hid behind barrels with his brother, that their lives would never be the same again. His sister had always wanted more and as he saw the adoration, greed and, what he would soon come to understand as, lust take hold of the one they called the Darkling he knew his sister would fly away. She, too, had the same look reflected in her own gaze; two souls connected as one that fateful day on a long-forgotten farm. The darkness embraced the stars and in doing so intertwined two souls who would never be parted.

Kaz remembers the shock in his eyes when the darkness faded, and the sun reigned supreme once more. He saw those in red turn swiftly in his direction taking hold of himself and his brother. He watched as his sister's eyes glimmered with something akin to regret and grief before it was gone replaced with that dazzling glow and ethereal smile as she knelt before Kaz.

“Sweet brother, I must leave now. You understand, don’t you? I have to go and help those who are like me but do not worry I will visit,” poor sweet Kaz could not tell how brittle his saint-like sister's smile truly was, “Jordie will look after you, won't you?” his sister turned her head to his elder brother whom was stock still withholding tears he knew couldn’t fall; lest his younger brother realise the true magnitude of this goodbye. Unable to speak the eldest of the two boys simply nodded his head once and swallowed the lump in his throat. The sister's smile faltered for a moment and a degree of hesitancy took up on her visage - at least it did until the hand of a general grasped her own and the assuredness returned tenfold. Once more turning her gaze to her younger brother she smiled sweetly and embraced him for a final time.

A gentle kiss to his forehead and a whispered promise gone on the wind was the last Kaz Brekker felt of his sister before she was swept away in a swirl of black. Ushered into a carriage and lost in the gaze of a man whose eyes were as dark as the night sky, never to be seen again.

[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.'

[moonlightgrisha]

Make a choice

Ch. 7 You feel like you don't belong anywhere, but the Darkling makes you a proposal which helps you make up your mind . [Masterlist] Previous - Next

You need to make a choice.

The tsaritsa called for a private meeting this morning, which you didn't expect at all, not so soon anyway. You left your chambers in the Little Palace to be escorted to the royal quarters. You had left the Grand Palace only a few days earlier, but it already felt so unfamiliar. It used to be your home, but you have no home, now.

The tsaritsa welcomed you like you just came back from a nice visit to Novyi Zem, and asked her servants for tea and biscuits. Then she managed to compliment you for the dress you chose in the morning. You thanked her, but kept feeling slightly suspicious, waiting for the storm to come. And just as you were taking your first sip of tea, she added: "I see you are not wearing a kefta".

"No, I'm not, moya tsaritsa".

"May I ask why?"

You wished you told her it was none of her business. But somehow you managed to take a small sip of tea and then answer, perfectly calm: "My position at the Little Palace is currently... unclear".

She raised an eyebrow. "How odd. General Kirigan seemed already fond of you. But I guessed not everything is how it seems, as you proved us to be, dear".

There it was, the first blow. You smiled and gulped down your tea, hot as your shame.

Your royal cousin stood silent for a little while, before casually saying: "Maybe we could pretend nothing happened".

"Excuse me?"

She leaned over to you, whispering. "I could arrange for you to leave. Disappear. Wouldn't you like that? Living your life, far away. No more talking of summoning, sorcery or whatever all this matter is about".

"This matter is..." you were hurt, somewhere deep inside, because you had realized that you were no more than dust to be swept under the carpet. "I am Grisha, cousin".

"And royal". She remarked. "There are no Grisha in the royal family".

"I am the first".

"Are you?"

She left you wondering, and doubts and questions fell hard on you, like winter rain. How many more Grisha were born in the royal family, and how many disappeared?

And precisely, how did they disappear?

"I'll think of your generous offer", you smiled, hiding your fear and your rage behind the prettiest of smiles.

But now, you storm through the Little Palace. You are done, being a prisoner or waiting for whatever destiny has in store for you. You don't know if you are supposed to be wondering around, and any Grisha on your path would surely wonder what is this polished girl in otkasat'sya clothes doing around their home, but you don't care anymore at this point.

You need to make a choice. And you need to think.

So you run down the stairs, sneak in the stable and reach for your horse, which you missed terribly. While you proceed to saddle him, you think of some witty explanation for anyone who could surprise you right there.

And just as you're tightening the straps under the saddle, you see the Darkling entering the stable.

You stay completely still, while he pats his horse on the head, taking the reins in his hand. You are considering sneaking out unnoticed, when he turns and sees you.

There is a moment of silence. Then he says: "I'm glad to see you out of your chambers".

"That's it?" you snap. "All you have to say?"

"Is there something else you wished I said?"

Not really, but you are still waiting to figure him out, to figure all of this out. You simply shake your head, and turn to leave.

His voice reaches you at your back. "Please, don't leave".

He sounds earnest, just slightly exasperated. You stop.

"I was just about to head out", he continues. "I know how you like riding".

He can't see you over there, but he can feel the smile in your voice. "We already know who's going to win the chase".

"No chasing this time. We ride together".

Maybe it's the way he says it. Maybe it's the words. Eventually, you take you horse and follow outside.

You've been quite unfair to him. He is an exceptional rider. He's also the only person you know in the Little Palace, except for Genya, and even know you don't trust him yet, it feels good not being alone with your thoughts.

You ride side to side, and only sometimes you talk, but not about moon and darkness, destiny or summoning. You talk about the path you are riding, the blurred horizon and the skeleton trees not ready for spring yet.

You don't ask him once where he's taking you. You like to pretend he's taking you far away, further than what the tsaritsa promised you. A place where you can glow with moonlight without fearing to be thrown on the battlefield.

Then you remind yourself that he's the one who's probably going to throw you on the battlefield, and your heart cracks a little.

You stop by a fountain, to let the horse drink plenty. You notice the carvings on the side: skulls, soldiers and sorcery.

"How charming", you mumble, recognising the Black Heretic's tale in the pictures. "To remind me of my duties".

"And what exactly are your duties?" he asks, and that irritates you more than you care to show.

"You perfectly know that". You gesture to the fountain. "Once upon a time darkness fell on the land. Since then, people have been waiting for someone to get rid of their nightmare. It never occurred them that the chosen one might have her own nightmares".

You are no longer looking at him, but you can feel him frowning. "What do you mean?"

You hesitate, but then you tell him. "I've been dreaming about it for years. Shadows. Monsters. Blood".

He stares at you, and doesn't talk. For a moment he seems terrified. Then he smiles.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I took you here because this is one of my favorite spots, and for no other reason whatsoever?"

"No."

He laughs. It's the first time you hear him laughing. You let a smile escape your lips. His eyes are still laughing when he asks: "I expected you to run away on the first day at the Little Palace. Why did you stay?"

The question leaves you speechless. He's right. Why haven't you? "I guess..." you try to collect your thought. Finally, you find them. "I am tired of hiding".

He nods. You are sitting by the fountain, at this point, and he sits next to you, but not too close.

"I would like you to join me on an expedition", he says.

You flinch. "Where? Why?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow for the Fjerdan border. I would like you to come".

"So you are taking me to the batterfield".

"To the border", he remarks. "See with your eyes what the stakes are. What we are fighting for".

You don't answer, so he stands up and goes to kneel in front of you, just like he did on that first night in the Little Palace. The memory makes you blush, but he speaks before you can stand up and leave.

"We fight so that no Grisha will hide anymore", he says, looking at you in the eye. "No one. Ever".

"And there is a price to pay", you whisper.

"Everything has a price". His voice is heavy and regretful, and you almost feel his pain in his words.

You stand up. You feel like a queen with a postulant knight at your feet, and you'd like to think that you have the upper hand, but you also know it's much more complicated than this.

You are the one to give him your hand to help him up, this time. He accepts it with a cunning smile, and even if your skin fizzles as you touch him, you control your power, so that you only glow a little.

"Fine", you say. "I'll come".

At least, today you have made a choice.

Taglist @mysweetlittledesire@flostvs1508@budugu

[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)

—————————————————————————————

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”

[multix-ct117]

Dancing in the Dark

Ophelia Laskin + Aleksander Morozova

the Darkling x the Moon Wielder

{Shadow and Bone}

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

[moireia]

another fic i may never write  ↳ raisa karenin, heretics 🌑

Raisa Karenin could never really settle. She was never given the chance.

How could she when every year meant a new village to hide in? Every year meant a new name to learn. At all cost, she had to keep the secret close—one she was never to show and never to tell at the risk of her own life. The secret that her mother could read lies in heartbeats, that her father could mend wounds with a touch, that Raisa could make shadows dance. 

It was hard to make friends when anyone, even another child, could be a threat. When her family arrived at Ryveost, Raisa decided to make friends out of the flowers in the garden and the characters in her mother’s stories. Raisa created the Witch of Duva and Koja the Too-Clever Fox as shadow puppets to play with.

All these stories and all these lies were Raisa’s protection. They were the warnings that kept her safe. They were the lessons she faithfully followed even after her father was lost to the sea. Even after her mother died.

Then, after Ryevost, there was Keramzin.

Even in the loss of all that she knew, there was something to be gained. Keramzin gave her Alina and Mal—her first true friends, the three of them drawn together almost inexplicably. Perhaps it was pity for the new orphan, quiet and a little strange. Perhaps it was sympathy, knowing too well the cruelty of the others who saw you as different. Nevertheless, Alina and Mal were kind when Raisa needed it most.

At sixteen they were drafted into the First Army. It took them on different paths but they found ways to stay in touch. While Mal tracked in the woods and Alina held onto a pen, Raisa took up a rifle and became a sniper. An efficient soldier who took dangerous missions and rose quickly in rank—anything she could do to avoid the Fold. Her father had many theories about what would happen if Raisa entered the Unsea. Would it respond to her? Would the volcra hunt her, seeking shadow summoner blood even from a different line than their despised creator? Would she pass untouched? Madraya argued the risk was too great to ever try.

But then Mal is ordered to cross the Fold. Alina sets a fire and damns herself to stay with him. What choice does Raisa have but to follow? Her mother’s voice echoes in her mind as Raisa steals a cartography uniform and sneaks aboard the Skiff.

For the first time, Raisa ignores the warnings. She cannot leave her dearest friends to the darkness of the Unsea. She would follow them anywhere—even if it means risking discovery.

[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.

[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.

[call-sign-shark]

Folie à Deux

Summary: The Darkling x OC (Grishaverse) || Amos x Heaven (PB)

Five short blurbs in the mental hospital, where none of these troubled souls thought they would find love. Part I here: Happiness Therapy.

Content: tooth-rotting fluff, fun, mention of self harm, mention of crimes, sexual innuendo for the last one.

1: The Chess Game

Alone in their usual corner, the tall darkness and the killer doll were gathered around a chessboard set on a wobbly little table.

“Let me guess,” Amos drawled, resting his chin on his hand as his eyes surveyed the board first and the seraphic white-haired woman after. “You’ve never played chess.”

Heaven shifted in her seat, her pale hair falling over her face as she did. A little growl escaped from her lips. “No,” she finally admitted, one hand sliding her white locks behind her ear while the other was busy moving her pawn forward hesitantly. “But how hard can it be, uh?”

“To be fair��” Amos smirked, amused by the childish pout on her face, which offered a striking contrast with all the cuts she had on her arms. “Very”. Contrary to her, his hands moved with easiness — long fingers sliding his pieces across the board. The white creature furrowed her brows further, her icy eyes squinting at the black and white tiles like they held the secrets of the universe. Or rather, as if the rules would appear on them and bring her some understanding.

“That’s a terrible move,” Amos said when she reached for a bishop.

“How do you know?” she shot back, her voice defiant and her little but surprisingly sharp canine teeth flashing at him. She was started to become slightly irked by his little teasing remarks — Of course she didn’t know how to play! It was some kind of rich kids and nepobabies game, she argued with herself.

Amos leaned back, his black iris gleaming with amusement and a bit of lust, for the danger she exuded never failed to make him weak. “Because I’m going to destroy you in three moves.” He still said bluntly, his little smirk deepening and charming crow feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“Is that a challenge?” Heaven narrowed her eyes at him.

Amos grinned. “Oh, it’s a promise.”

Three moves later, her king was cornered and his prophecy was fulfilled. The killer doll groaned, collapsing back against her chair with a pout. “This game is stupid.”

“Not stupid,” Amos corrected. “Strategic.”

She glared at him but the little gleam that was twinkling in the frozen desert of her eyes was playful. “What’s the strategy? Annoy your opponent until they quit?”

“Exactly.” He retorted with a grin, resting his strong and warm hand softly on hers.

2: The Snowball Incident

The hospital courtyard was covered with a thick blanket of snow, frosty flakes still lazily swirling in the crisp air around them. Despite the freezing temperatures, patients were still allowed outside for fresh air with the supervision of nurses who looked both far too cold and tired to intervene in any mischief. Amos was standing beside the killer doll, watching her as she tilted her head back to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

“Childish,” he teased, stuffing his hands into his pockets. But his eyes, burning and piercing, remained fixed on the wet flesh of her tongue.

“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first,” she shot back, her diaphanous cheeks now pink from the cold.

Her reply only made the tall, dark-haired man scoffed. “I’m a man of sophistication. I don’t do things like—”

A snowball hit him square in the chest. A perfect shot with the precision of a sniper. Heaven froze, her eyes wide, clearly surprised at her own boldness.

Amos stared down at the snowy mark on his long black coat, then back at her, his lips twitching. “Did you just—”

Before he could finish, another snowball hit him at the exact same place. Then a second he managed to dodge before it hit his face.

“Alright, Lavey,” he said, and, not wasting time, the tall darkness crouched to scoop up his own handful of snow. “You want a war? You’ve got one.”

The next ten minutes were a blur of laughter, poorly aimed snowballs and challenging kisses. By the time the nurses called them back inside, Heaven’s long white hair was soaked and Amos’ coat too — which didn’t stop them from smiling brighter than they had in years.

3: Morning Rituals

Mornings were the worst, whether in isolation or in her casual bedroom. The bright lights and the endless monotony of routines always got on her nerves — so much she was certain it would be the death of her one day. Or the death of them, if she ended up snapping. However, Amos had a way of making them bearable.

Every morning, as they lined up for breakfast, he would greet her with some new absurdity. Some random, accurate but weird knowledge about something.

“Did you know,” he started one morning, leaning back against the wall as he usually did, “that penguins propose with rocks?”

At first Heaven didn’t know if it was another piece of informations or if, this time, his new meds were a tad bit too strong. “What?” She asked, blinking.

“It’s true,” he said, completely deadpan. “The male finds the smoothest rock he can and gives it to the female. If she accepts, they’re mates for life. Because they have one true love.” He added, making sure she knew his mind was clear.

“Why do you know this?” She asked, amused.

“I read it somewhere,” he said with a shrug. “Anyway, if I ever find the right rock, I’ll let you know.”

She laughed and for the rest of the day, she couldn’t stop thinking about penguins.

The day he left, Amos slid something in her pocket. It was a smooth and polished stone.

4: Dangerous

The common room was usually quiet for most of the patients had learnt to keep their distance. Some of them nervously glanced at the twisted lovers, not daring go close to the couch as if it had been proclaimed their throne.

Amos was sprawled out, his long legs taking up most of the space, while Heaven sat cross-legged beside him, tracing lazy patterns on the back of his hand with her fingertips. The pleasant sensation sent shivers down his spine.

“You ever notice how they look at us?” He asked, his voice low and his foot nervously moving — he was clearly annoyed by something.

She glanced up, her fingers pausing mid-pattern. “You mean like we’re about to snap and murder everyone?” Heaven suggested, one eyebrow raised.

“Hmm,” He nodded.

The crazy angel simply shrugged, “Well, you did disfigure someone and you are prone to ultra violent fits. And I… you know, the murder thing”

Her lack of compassion surprisingly managed to soothe his concerns and snatched a soft laugh from his lips before he leaned back on the couch and made a quick movement with his hand to silently tell Heaven to keep caressing him, “Fair point.”

She didn’t do as he wished. Instead, she grinned mischievously and lifted his hand to press it to her chest, right over her heart. “Feel that?”

Even surprised, his smirk deepened. “Your heartbeat?”

“Yeah,” she said, the hypnotizing lilt of her voice blending in a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “Totally normal. See? Not planning a murder right now.”

Amos chuckled but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he turned her hand over and gently pressed his smooth lips to her frail and bruised wrists, “Not quite normal. It started beating faster when you felt my lips…” He whispered, his void-black eyes locking onto hers. Her shivers were so intense he felt the goosebumps on her skin, “And what about me? Am I dangerous?”

Her heart skipped a beat: it wasn’t even a question, he was undoubtedly dangerous. Charming. Intense. Unpredictable. All these things that she only found in herself until now. Heaven tilted her head, pretending to consider.

“Yes you are. But I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

“Never,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper and the predatory gleam in his black iris turned into the purest form of affection and devotion.

5: Folie À Deux

Nightly visits were strictly forbidden but Amos had a knack for bending rules. When he entered the room, grinning like a kid sneaking into a candy store, she couldn’t believe it.

“They’ll kill us if they catch us,” she whispered, even though the slight curl of her lips fleshy betrayed her excitement.

“Correction,” Amos said, “They’ll kill me. You’re too charming for them to stay mad at.”

“You’re insane,” she muttered, her breath stopping for a moment when his hands found her waist in a firm grip.

“Yeah, and so you are. But you’re smiling, so I’d say it’s worth it.”

“Don’t be sill—“

“Do you want me to leave?” he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. His smile faltered for a moment, his dark eyes looking at her with something different: raw and unfiltered emotions. He wasn’t joking anymore because he realized how madly in love with that crazy doll he was.

Heaven hesitated but only for a fleeting a moment before she shook her head. “No.”

That was all he needed. Right after, his lips found hers. Hesitantly at first, as if he was testing the waters — or still hesitating on giving in to her, knowing full well he'd give her the key to destroy him if. Knowing he was taking the risk of letting her break his heart. But when she melted into him, sinking in his arms with hers wrapped around his neck, the kiss deepened. It wasn’t rushed or desperate like their torrid quick fuck, but slow, deliberate. Not only they were savoring every moment, but they swore a silent oath: no matter what will happen in this life or the others, it will always be him and her.

Amos guided her backward toward the small bed, his hands on her waist keeping her steady. Until the backs of her knees hit the edge, she let herself fall on the mattress, pulling him with her.

In this Folie a Deux, he wasn’t the Darkling and she wasn’t the White Devil. Just two broken souls learning to breathe again. And suddenly, both the shadows and the voices didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Peaky Blinders taglist: @justrainandcoffee @cillmequick @mischievouslittlecreature @evita-shelby @lunarubra @peakyswritings @jjovin3221 @shelbydelrey @zablife

Shadow and Bone taglist: @lunawants , @emtaz-art, @lightinbug, @kmc1989, @thepassionatereader

[dhampiravidi]

Hi, please feel free to read my fic “Moi Soverenyi”! Feedback is appreciated!

@ashortgothamite @abrushwithdeath @summonshadcw @marvelmusing

[toilandtroubled]

— 𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙖 + 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 by @chrissymunson

[marsconer]

VERONIKA SOLOVENA X ALEKSANDER MOROZOVA

“ we make each other alive, my darling. does it even matter if it hurts? lets see who hates the best.”