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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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Every time @marvelmusing adds to her In Another Life AU, it’s the fulfillment of a wish at the close of every great adventure — for the wonder, the joy, the magic to never end. It’s a delicate balance that’s almost second nature to the way @marvelmusing writes, weaving new discoveries in with now familiar events so that we look back and see that, yes, the tear has been mended and in its place is a tapestry as rare and as eternal as this series’ unforgettable protagonists.

Reliving the epic journey through Aleksander’s eyes brings more than the joy of re-experiencing a beloved tale. The phrase “lovingly crafted” comes to mind in reading each line, the author’s intent undeniable beneath each choice of word and each scene to recast from Aleksander’s point of view. This is @marvelmusing ‘s Aleksander, there is no mistaking him for any other; and with this story, any question about why anyone would want to save him from a fate other than what he is given in this series is resoundingly, decisively answered.

Pressed to pick a favorite scene (given that I love everything about this series, and this story in particular, the required pressure may or may not involve a Fabrikator’s contraption), I would never tire of the moment Aleksander hears the Reader utter his true name for the first time. A very close second would be the first time the Reader calls him Sasha and “Aleksander wants to tell you all of this, what that name means to him, though he suspects you already know…”

The Reader emerging from Ulla’s cave, the Reader after the events at the Tula valley asking about her kefta, these are favorites too. There’s also that moment on Sturmhond’s ship after Aleksander knows for certain that the Reader has accepted his love.

He hears Zoya approach you, and the sound of excited murmurings between you both. Aleksander hears the shocked laughter fall from your lips as you smile widely, setting his heart aflutter as he moves down the steps towards the main deck, trying his hardest not to grin triumphantly.

I’ve called what @marvelmusing achieved with this series a triumph, and every new thing we learn about it brings us past the point of exhilaration. What a gift, to have the experience of a beautiful story live on like this, ever close at hand, never fading from memory.

In Another Life

Until I Found You

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: Aleksander isn’t expecting to find love in this lifetime, that is until you arrive. A.K.A: In Another Life (Aleksander’s Version).

A collection of scenes from In Another Life from Aleksander’s perspective, as well as a bonus scene.

Warnings: canon level violence and other canon themes, spoilers for the entirety of the In Another Life series, implicit injury and threat, vaguely implied sexual content.

Word Count: 11.1K

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

The early morning sun is what wakes Aleksander. He blinks slowly, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment, admiring the pale ray of sunlight illuminating the decorative shapes carved into the wood above him. It’s only when a sound prickles at the edge of his awareness – the tiny movement of a page being turned in the War Room, that he remembers the events of the day before, and he remembers you.

Glancing over at the space beside him, Aleksander observes the rustled sheets and the carefully folded duvet.

He hadn’t heard you leave the bed this morning, by the state of the sheets you had experienced a restless night and didn’t want to disturb him with your departure.

It had been very early morning when Aleksander had returned, and you had seemed sound asleep then. He had dressed in his night clothes as silently as possible before lying down in the space beside you, placing a pillow to prevent either of you from imposing on one another’s space in your sleep.

A frown creases at his brows. When was the last time someone had shared his bed? Aleksander had certainly bedded people on occasion, but they never stayed the night. Once they left, his mind would fail to settle despite his sated body, meaning that would once again end up working late into the night.

Pulling himself up, he stretches his arms out in front of him in an attempt to ease the twinge of protest from his tense shoulders. It takes a moment for him to locate his slippers but once he does he slides his feet into them and makes his way towards the door leading to the hallway outside.

The door opens smoothly, allowing him to lean his upper body out from behind the wood and speak with the oprichnik posted outside, requesting a servant to bring breakfast for the two of you.

With that sorted, Aleksander shuts the door, moving through his bedroom towards the open doorway which leads into the War Room.

From your position seated at the central table, the sun casts a golden glow over your hair as you stare down at the map in front of you.

He stands on the threshold for a moment, watching you.

Aleksander has looked over the maps in this room hundreds of times. It’s refreshing to see someone take in the information with such rapt interest, though he can see the exhaustion weighing heavily on your eyes each time you blink.

“I believe you were told to rest.”

You don’t look up from the map, instead picking up another to compare the two before you provide him with an answer,

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Aleksander notices the way your gaze shifts quickly, eyes bouncing over the words in front of you as a means to escape your thoughts. He doesn’t need to ponder long before he suspects what had been troubling you.

The fact the one of his own Grisha had betrayed him, trying to kill you on the orders of his mother, upset Aleksander more than it angered him.

He won’t be able to forget the look on your face when he had entered the room during the attack, how frightened you had been, no doubt believing that he would take the side of his oprichnik. He also won’t be forgetting the way you had clung to him, relief fuelling your actions as you had pressed your face into his chest. You had held onto him like a lifeline, with all your remaining strength.

Aleksander couldn’t remember the last time someone have looked to him for such comfort. To everyone, he was a figure of fear and respect. But to you, he was safety. It had baffled him, giving him a moment of pause before he had responded, cradling the back of your head carefully.

A sigh falls from your lips, heaving at your shoulders as your fingers skim over the pages piled up to your right.

“How do you find anything in here?”

Aleksander observes the mild frustration on your face as he shrugs lightly.

“Everything has its correct place.”

Amusement warms in Aleksander’s chest at the sight of your brow lifting as you gesture incredulously towards the mountain of books, maps, and papers scattered over the table. Despite his amusement, he only allows a half smile to grace his features.

“What are you looking for?”

Something appears to have distracted you, because the sound of his question has you shaking yourself ever so slightly.

The two of you ease into conversation naturally. In this day and age, very few people would question Aleksander’s suggestions, aside from the First Army officers that have nothing to offer but criticism. It’s strange to have someone consider his ideas genuinely, and you offer you own concerns with a sensibility that impresses him. You’re quick witted and methodical, two attributes that keep the discussion flowing. Even when you aren’t speaking, Aleksander can see you thinking.

You appear to be surprised by his job offer – to stay by his side as his assistant. Whatever conflict weighs in your eyes disappears at the sound of a knock on the door.

Aleksander unlocks the door, allowing the servant in to place the breakfast tray down on the table. Once the servant is gone, Aleksander encourages you to eat.

Your arrival yesterday had been just after luncheon and by the time the evening meal was being prepared in the dining hall you had been attacked, meaning that Aleksander doesn’t know the last time you had eaten anything. From the plentiful selection you’re gathering on your plate, it must have been quite some time since you had a proper meal.

He's in the middle of reading through a report, trying not to watch you as you sample the different foods with a delighted expression on your face.

It’s your voice that draws his attention back to you, as you ask tentatively,

“You aren’t eating anything?”

At this moment, as he holds your gaze, Aleksander realises how hungry he is. At times, he skips breakfast, opting to launch immediately into his work, of which he begins consumed by, meaning that his luncheon is taken late, and dinner is typically a half-forgotten occasion.

He picks up a fresh slice of bread, still warm from the oven, and butters it delicately before he scoops up an indulgent helping of strawberry jam.

The small smile on your face is even sweeter than the sugary jam as it melts on his tongue.

As you continue with your shared breakfast, the two of you talk over plans for the upcoming days and your trip to Kribirsk.

For the first time, there’s a lull in the conversation, no doubt brought about by the thoughts weighing on Aleksander’s mind.

He stands up, examining a map that you had been studying before your breakfast, though his mind is far from the markings detailed over the paper.

From the moment you revealed who you were, and what you knew, there had been one thing on Aleksander’s mind. Even as the General he is considered the possibility of you being a spy, or the centuries-old anxieties warned him not to trust you, the small boy inside him longed to know one thing.

“You know my name.”

His voice is soft but from the heavy swallow you take he knows you heard him. From his position standing up, you need to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“I do.”

“Why haven’t you addressed me by it yet?”

He watches you as you stare down at your empty plate, spinning the porcelain slightly over the table as you consider your answer.

“You haven’t given it to me.”

At that, he remembers his mother’s warning about his true name: you don’t give it to just anyone. Aleksander has guarded his name throughout the centuries, keeping it buried, tucked away, hidden from the world. It feels as though you have a piece of him and his stomach flips at the power you have over him.

His concern eases slightly with your next words,

“I know what your name means to you. I didn’t want to assume that you would want me to say it.”

Aleksander internally admits that you are right. The thought of you using his name casually without his permission unsettles him. Though now that he considers it, he wants to hear you say his name.

You know the very worst of what he’s done, yet you’re still here, willing to help him. You know the Black Heretic, and the Darkling, but he wants you to know Aleksander too.

“Will you?” He watches you frown, brows drawing together in confusion. “Will you say it?”

For a moment, Aleksander thinks you might deny him. An indecipherable emotion flickers in your eyes, but you’ve pushed it away before he can give it any further scrutiny.

When you finally do speak, it’s in a near whisper.

“Aleksander.”

His breath catches. He thought he was prepared to hear it. But from your lips his name takes on a whole new meaning. It sounds like a promise.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander doesn’t ask about your nightmares. Every night since you had arrived at the camp in Kribirsk you had awoken with a sudden jerk. If you wanted to share them with him, he knows you would. Instead, he offers an empty seat beside him as he works.

On the nights you seem too lost in your thoughts, to the point in which tears begin to fill your eyes, he distracts you with paperwork, giving you simple sorting tasks to occupy your mind.

He tells you about the meetings he had suffered through without you by his side. He tells you about General Zlatan’s predecessor, who in the last few years of his career would regularly fall asleep, sometimes midway through a long-winded speech. It’s a relief to hear your laugh in these moments.

Some nights your thoughts aren’t as vicious. At times such as those, all Aleksander does is offer his presence. The scratch of his pen against paper and the rain hitting the roof of the tent helps to remove the tension from your body. Aleksander pretends not to notice your sleepy eyes studying his face as he works, the candlelight being the only source of light to illuminate his features.

It's only once your eyes begin to flutter closed that Aleksander can look at you. There’s an uncomfortable twist in his chest at the sight of you looking so exhausted. He tells himself that it’s because he has a responsibility to look after you. That you’re an important part of his plan and you’ve shown him kindness and acceptance, and that is the only reason why he feels a duty of care towards you.

But when he raises a hand to extinguish the candles, plunging the room into darkness before he’s guiding you with his hands resting delicately on your shoulders, urging you into bed – his bed – he allows himself a moment to think otherwise.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

He finds himself thinking about constantly. He discovers old books that he thinks you would enjoy. He wants to ask for your opinion on the latest campaign on the northern frontlines.

Even during training with Alina, he finds his mind wandering to you. Summoning is second nature to Aleksander, meaning that as he demonstrates his power to a bewildered Alina he’s thinking about you. Just the other day, you had told him that blue irises were Alina’s favourite flower – what were your favourite flowers?

Aleksander knows that he has been busy, but he can’t help but feel as though you’ve been avoiding him, He knows that you are busy as well, whenever he does see you there’s a bundle of papers in your arms, or a stack of books pressed against your chest. Despite this, he can’t shake the feeling that something is different.

Perhaps you had heard some frightening rumour about him, prompting you to change your mind about his intentions for Ravka. Perhaps you thought he no longer deserved your help, and one day he would wake up to find you gone.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

There’s a knock at the door of his bedroom and Aleksander’s heart leaps. Whilst he hopes that you haven’t had a nightmare again, he’s grateful that he is the one you seek out when you’re distressed even with the growing distance between the two of you.

He shakes his head at himself for being so selfish. You still hadn’t shared the content of your nightmares with him, but the muffled sobs and the haunted look in your eyes afterwards made him ache terribly.

Whatever had been blooming in his chest shatters when he opens the door, revealing a nervous looking Alina. She wrings her hands together and Aleksander forces his disappointment down, drawing on some concern as he speaks,

“Alina. Is everything alright?”

She shakes her head, the trace of tears glistening in her eyes which forces Aleksander to open the door wider, encouraging her to step into his bedroom as she admits quietly,

“It’s nothing. Just a nightmare.”

Seeing her look so shaken reminds Aleksander of you.

“Would you like to stay the night?”

“Can I? I don’t want to disturb you, I just… I don’t want to be alone.”

He shakes his head lightly.

“You are not alone, Alina.”

Conflict wars inside Aleksander. He can’t deny the pull he feels towards Alina, their powers are similar in a way no one else can understand. Like calls to like after all. But then why does he feel a deeper connection with you? Why does he feel like you are his equal – his partner?

He hadn’t told Alina his true name. That alone feels like the deciding factor for his affections. She saw him as the Black General, you saw him as Aleksander.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander thought he was beyond feeling trivial emotions like jealousy. After centuries of living through countless relationships – both platonic and romantic – he has learned that the right people will give you the attention you deserve without any need for competing against others.

Then he had seen the soft smile you had given that boy, Mal. Alina’s Mal. The tracker. He had returned from Fjerda, no doubt with news of the stag. With Aleksander occupied by Alina’s training, Mal had reported to you.

When was the last time you had smiled at Aleksander? There had been something forced in your smile this morning, when Alina had stayed for breakfast with him. You hadn’t stayed, and he hadn’t seen you for the rest of the day. Until now.

Alina and Mal reunite with an embrace, leaving you and Aleksander standing apart from them. He wonders if the boy had been able to make you laugh like Aleksander had. Mentally, he shakes himself. He’s hundreds of years old, there is no need to think about Mal in such a petty manner.

Instead, Aleksander uses the opportunity to look over at you. There’s a sad look on your face; Aleksander feels as though you’re slipping away. Then your eyes lift, meeting his and a shiver runs down his spine. When had eye contact ever provoked such a response from him?

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

He doesn’t understand you.

Staring hard at the book he has discarded on your bed, he tries to focus on the words he had read – the story from your world, where he was the villain. You hadn’t told him he was the villain, though he can understand why. Villains don’t get happy endings. They don’t achieve their goal or find true love.

Aleksander doesn’t care what he has to sacrifice for his people, he has suffered before for them and would do so again. But you care. For some unknown reason, you had read this book and saw him as someone worth helping. You didn’t see him as a villain. Whatever is in store for the Darkling in these books, you didn’t want it to happen to Aleksander.

Ever since he had found the book Shadow and Bone tucked away in one of your drawers, he had been avoiding both you and Alina. His feelings regarding you both were confusing enough without adding the inner thoughts of an Alina from another universe.

Practically, he can understand why you intervened before the story could begin. From the moment he met Alina his plans had unravelled before his very eyes with every turn of a page.

What he doesn’t fully understand is your motive. In books, Alina had seen him as a villain. Why didn’t you?

He hears footsteps in the corridor, and the handle turns before the door swings open. Lost in your thoughts, it takes you a moment to process Aleksander’s presence in your room. Shutting the door behind you, Aleksander watches as you reach to unwind your scarf from around your neck, your eyes on his face as you search his expression.

Then you remark,

“This is unexpected.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Seeing Baghra waiting in the hallway for his return makes Aleksander feel like a boy again, running home with scraped knees. He isn’t surprised to see you standing in the hallway, helping the wounded Grisha from his traveling party as they cross the threshold. There hadn’t been many serious casualties, but you look concerned all the same. Aleksander holds the door open, shielding the worst of his injury from view.

If anyone will notice his injury, it will be Baghra, though she had stopped being concerned by the sight of his blood long ago.

The only person who notices his injury, and mentions it, is you. He hates the frightened look in your eyes as you look at the blood staining the fabric of his tunic.

You insist on him seeing a healer, and whilst he wants to remove that scared expression from your face he doesn’t want to trouble the healers. With the casualties from the ambush, they will be busy enough. Not to mention that seeing their General wounded will damage whatever morale remained after such a gruelling week.

All Aleksander wanted to do was return to his rooms, see to his injury in peace, and lie down in bed with you by his side. For months now, you had been a constant in his life, and with the concern in your eyes he knows you won’t be leaving his side any time soon. Though he certainly wouldn’t complain of such a thing. He had missed you.

When Aleksander suggests that you could stitch him up, your eyes widen, and you look ill as you breathe in shakily.

He knows you aren’t ignorant of the hardships of war, but sometimes he forgets how new you are to this world. Stitching up wounds was once a common occurrence for him, but you look terrified at the thought of such a thing.

As he holds your gaze, the last of the adrenaline fuelling him fades away. He isn’t sure if it’s because he is finally home, or if he no longer has to watch out for his comrades, but the pain that had softened to a dull throbbing now sears through his side.

He suspects that his body simply doesn’t want to hide his pain from you.

At the sight of Aleksander’s nod, you step away. Once you’ve ensured that he can make it to his rooms safely, you head off towards the infirmary. No words are exchanged between you and Baghra as you breeze by her.

His mother’s face isn’t easy to read but he recognises the disapproval in her eyes.

“You’re getting attached, boy. To an otkazat’sya of all things.”

Aleksander bristles. You are more than just an otkazat’sya and deserve far better than being referred to as a mere thing by his mother.

He looks down at the smudges of blood on his fingertips before he straightens his kefta and raises his chin.

“As always, Mother, your concern is appreciated.”

She scoffs.

Aleksander watches as she tilts her head slightly, almost looking towards the direction in which you left.

“That assistant of yours is different from the others.”

A soft smiles traces over his mouth as he thinks about you.

“I know.”

She narrows her eyes at him.

“I didn’t say that was a good thing.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Despite the rather adorable pout on your face, Aleksander hates seeing you cold. The way you wrap your arms tightly around yourself, your jaw clenched as you fight the chattering of your teeth.

But it provides him with an excuse to nestle his body beside yours in the makeshift cot in his tent during your journey into Fjerda in search of the stag. Sharing body heat – that was his reasoning.

Of course, the two of you had shared a bed before, countless times. But there had always been a respectful distance between you both when you went to bed. Granted, there were the occasional awkward morning encounters where Aleksander had wrapped his arms around your waist, or you had draped yourself over his chest.

But you had never fallen asleep purposely in each other’s arms.

With your consent, Aleksander relishes in the opportunity to run his hands over your body in an attempt to encourage warmth into you. The two of you are tucked under a thick woollen blanket as you try to gain enough warmth to fall asleep comfortably. Your skin flushes against his palms and he feels you shiver before you shift closer, into the centre of the cot, pressing your body against his side. He wants to tug you even closer, bury his face into the crook of your neck and press a kiss there. Instead, he says in a low voice,

“You can move a little closer. If you’d like?”

His face is a picture of innocence as you blink tiredly at him. Then you nod, nuzzling your face into his chest which pulls a small sound of pleasure from the back of your throat. Aleksander wraps an arm around you, feeling his own warmth begin to settle into your body.

Hopefully the tracker will be able to find the stag soon, not only so that your plans can advance, but because it means that you can return home.

Even as Aleksander reminds himself that your group is on enemy territory, he finds sleep sinking into his body, weighing heavily on his eyes as he feels your fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

When Aleksander first caught sight of you, passing through the crowd in your Winter Fete outfit, the breath had left his lungs. Time stood still as he watched you. Your gaze unfocused, and there was no doubt you were thinking over the last-minute preparations, wondering if you had forgotten anything.

Nervously, you twisted the ring sitting on your finger. You were right – the Lanstov emerald was gaudy and ridiculous and wholly undeserving of a place on your hand, in Aleksander’s opinion.

Now, Aleksander appears at your side and your attention is immediately drawn back to the present. He watches you as your eyes drag over his figure, and a thrill runs through him. His own Winter Fete outfit was nothing special. His best kefta – which had been pressed this morning – was identical to every other kefta in his wardrobe. The only reason it was his best was because the others were all worn from travelling or battle.

Nevertheless, he hopes you like what you see when you look at him tonight, because he is certainly enjoying the sight of you dressed so elegantly.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Once again, Aleksander is jealous.

This Sturmhond character is certainly charming, and the two of you have clearly established some sort of rapport after only a single meeting. Had you felt that at ease a day after meeting Aleksander?

He hopes you don’t notice how his shoulders tense as Sturmhond nudges you playfully. Aleksander can see the frown creasing at your brows as he speaks with the pirate, he knows that you’ve noticed the sharpness of his tone.

He can’t blame Sturmhond for liking you, but that doesn’t mean he has to be pleasant about it.

Despite your engagement to the Crown Prince, Aleksander had never viewed Vasily as a contender for your affections. But Sturmhond was a variable he hadn’t accounted for.

Enclosed on a ship together, would you and the pirate become close?

In his heart, Aleksander knows that you would never have a full life with him. He wouldn’t be able to grow old with you. He wouldn’t be able to give you everything you deserve. Perhaps you would be better off with an otkazat’sya, or some other Grisha. But romance appears to be the last thing on your mind, as when Aleksander mentions his observation regarding Sturmhond you seem confused.

Aleksander might regret hearing the answer, but nevertheless he asks you,

“Do you like him?”

“Who?”

“Sturmhond.”

“I met him yesterday.”

Dissatisfied with your response, Aleksander raises a brow at you, and your expression falters as you decide to give his question more thought.

“I don’t dislike him.” Aleksander watches you carefully as you speak. “I know we can trust him. That’s all I can say.”

He appreciates your honesty, but it doesn’t soothe the clawing sensation in his chest that longs to keep you for himself.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

When Aleksander was thirteen he faced a life-threatening ordeal by himself. On cold nights, sometimes he still feels the ache in his leg from where his own Cut had sliced through his skin, right down to the bone.

After Aleksander recovered from his injuries, he and his mother had left the Grisha settlement they had been staying with, heading for Novyi Zem for the very first time.

Travelling over the True Sea had made Aleksander nervous, his nightmares of being trapped under water had yet to leave him be, and the thought of being at the mercy of a few wooden planks that made up the ship they were travelling in made him feel sick.

Baghra had told him it was silliness. The water hadn’t been what tried to kill him, it was people he should be wary of, not the waves.

This is what Aleksander is thinking of when Sturmhond informs him of an oncoming storm. He thinks logically, helping to prepare the crew and his Grisha for what is to come.

When the storm does hit, Aleksander thinks he copes rather well.

That is until the third night, when he gets into bed before you. The rocking of the ship has his stomach turning uncomfortably, keeping his sleep light as he tosses and turns. The sound of the waves roaring and the covers weighing down on him has Aleksander jerking into full consciousness.

“Aleksander.”

Your voice is soft, but you’re closer than he expected, which startles him. He casts his dark eyes over your face briefly as his heartbeat remains a constant in his head.

“Are you alright?”

It’s easier to lie, so he nods his head.

Lightning illuminates the room, driving the darkness away for a mere instance, but it’s enough for Aleksander to feel frighteningly out of control. He might not have always felt comfortable in the dark, but now it meant power and safety to him.

“Is it the storm?” Your voice remains soft, as you look down at where the sheets are scrunched between his fingers. Then you ask, “Can I join you?”

There’s nothing Aleksander wants more.

Shifting over to the other side of the bed, he makes room for you. He’s aware of his heart pounding and the weight of his lungs as he tries to breathe normally. The muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches it tight, hoping that he can wrestle it under his control before you realise how shaken he is.

He feels your fingers slide over the bare skin of his chest, and the uncomfortable prickle of anxiety that had been thrumming through his body for days, since the storm began, goes still.

A deep inhale lifts his chest as your palm drifts up to rest at the nape of his neck, weaving the short locks of his hair through your fingers delicately. When you squeeze at the tense muscle there, he feels himself go lax under your hold.

There’s another flash of lightning, shattering his momentary safe haven, which forces him to close his eyes and bury himself closer into your body in an attempt at escaping the thunder that echoes above.

His arms tighten around your waist as he hides his face against your chest. The feeling of your hands in his hair, massaging over his neck and shoulders to encourage his body into relaxing, allows him some respite.

Aleksander is lost in the tender motion of your hands and the soothing murmurs, until he hears something in particular that catches his attention.

He lifts his head up, meeting your eyes as he repeats what you had called him,

“Sasha?”

Embarrassment touches your features as you look down at the limited space between your bodies, before you stammer out an apology.

Aleksander laughs softly.

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?”

He doesn’t.

No one has known him as Aleksander for centuries, and now that he thinks about it, no one has ever known him as Sasha. The nickname had been used exclusively by his mother, only when he was a very small boy.

No lover, no friend, no confidant. No one.

But now there was you.

He doesn’t mind at all.

Aleksander wants to tell you all of this, what that name means to him, though he suspects you already know. Instead, he murmurs quietly,

“Baghra was the last person to call me Sasha. She hasn’t done so in a very long time.”

“And you want me to?”

He can hear the insecurity in your voice as you seek confirmation. Aleksander nods against the hollow of your throat.

“I do.”

His lips brush briefly against your skin as he speaks.

“Okay.” Aleksander holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for you to continue as you stroke your hand back through his hair. “Sasha.”

The smile he hides against your skin is wide.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

“Absolutely not.”

“We can’t let him get the sea whip.”

Aleksander’s fingers curl tight around your wrist as you almost fall into him. The deck of the ship tilts, casting your body away from him, but he doesn’t let you go far.

He knows your plan hadn’t accounted for being attacked by pirates. He knows if someone doesn’t act quickly, then all your hard work will be undone.

But he cannot let you go.

“Someone else.”

As always, your reasoning makes sense and how he wishes you weren’t right. He wishes that someone else would dive into the freezing water and solve this problem. But one look at your face and Aleksander knows that it has to be you.

Brave, brilliant you, who won’t stop at anything to succeed.

Aleksander feels as though a part of himself has been torn away, as he nods. Then he watches you leap over the side of the ship, plummeting down into the icy water below.

You reach the sea whip without incident and Aleksander keeps his eyes fixed on you. He doesn’t know what you plan to do.

Thinking practically, if you killed the sea whip then no one would be able to claim its power. But whilst you have never failed to do what is necessary, Aleksander can’t see you taking the sea whip’s life purpose.

When he sees you slicing through the ropes that bind the creature, he knows what you have decided.

His heart stops when he sees you freeze, and his blood runs cold at the sight of you clutching your chest as red spills from your nose. Sokolov has a heartrender.

Aleksander’s voice is sharp as he attracts the attention of one of the nearest heartrenders.

“Fedoyr.”

The man clad in red doesn’t need to ask what his General needs, instead he layers his palms over one another to reach for your heart with his power.

There’s a sickening moment of helplessness, as he watches your heart fail. Anxiety soars through Aleksander’s veins as Fedoyr shakes his head.

“I can’t reach, the current is carrying them too far.”

Aleksander inhales shakily, tearing a hand through his hair wildly as he begins to pace along the deck.

The sounds of fighting that continue to rage around him fade into nothing, inconsequential to the ringing in his ears.

Then Ivan appears beside his husband, brows furrowed with concentration as he clasps his hands together. Aleksander’s eyes remain fixed on you, relief filling him at the sight of you no longer gasping for air.

But you’re still in danger.

Aleksander tears off his kefta, throwing to the deck as he strides over to the edge of the ship. Shouts of protest from his Grisha go ignored as he climbs over the railing.

The sea whip bursts free as Aleksander dives into the water.

Even as he swims towards where you had disappeared under the surface, Aleksander can’t shake the fear from his body.

Inhaling deeply, he plunges under the water to grasp at your flailing body as the current weighs you down. Aleksander wraps his arms around you, pulling the two of you to the surface. He feels you struggle weakly against him, forcing him to adjust his grip.

“You’re alright.” He assures you quickly, in an attempt at easing your distress. “It’s me.”

Widened eyes meet his, as you grasp tightly onto the fabric of his shirt as you choke out a startled gasp,

“Aleksander!”

As recognition dawns on you, the fight leaves your body, allowing you to slump against his chest as he wades you both back towards the ship.

“I have you.”

Now that he has you back, he isn’t letting go.

Even when you’re back on board the whaler, Aleksander’s grip on you remains tight, the fabric of your soaked shirt held tightly in his fist.

His heart still hasn’t settled. Aleksander sits down on the deck, shaking saltwater from his hair as he watches you breath heavily. Exhaustion weighs on your eyes, the cold water dripping onto the wooden planks beneath your body as you lie down. His voice is low as he states,

“You are never to do anything like that ever again.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

He almost bristles at your flippant response. Then you pull yourself up with a wince, dropping your head down to rest against his shoulder before you murmur softly,

“I’m sorry, Sasha.”

The fright in his chest softens into relief, now that he can feel your body next to his, finally back to safety. He settles his palm over the back of your neck, keeping your face pressed against his shoulder.

In this moment, he’s reminded of the first time he held you like this – when you had been attacked in the Little Palace.

Over the centuries, Aleksander has faced countless life-threatening altercations. But he hates the thought of you fearing for your life in such a manner. Which is why he doesn’t hesitate to hold you close against his chest when the sea whip sinks Sokolov’s ship.

He watches you closely as you step in front of the sea whip. Aleksander knows that you feel safe to approach the creature, he knows that you know what you’re doing. But he also knows that something is wrong, something you can’t see. Something that has him reaching towards you, before you even realise you’re about to pass out.

Aleksander holds you steady in his arms as you slump against his chest, unconscious.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

A pain-filled whimper escapes your lips, and Aleksander’s heart twists in his chest.

Just before the healer arrived, you had a moment of lucidity but after that you had tossed and turned uncomfortably as you slept. There is nothing Aleksander can do, nothing except wait.

Nevertheless, he finds things to do. He presses a damp cloth over your forehead and down your neck. He props you up before ensuring that you drink some water.

When your fever peaks, he removes the blankets much to your distress. He cups your shaking hands in both of his, rubbing away the goosebumps that rise over your skin as you shiver.

Now that he knows what your nightmares are about, he wants to protect you from them more than ever. Which is why it is so hard to watch the sobs shaking your body as tears spill down your cheeks. He brushes them away with a careful swipe of his knuckles.

Once he finally manages to feed you the sleeping tonic, he holds you in his arms as your breathing deepens into a restful slumber. Aleksander presses his lips against your forehead, hoping that his affection might soothe you in some way.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander watches you carefully.

Zoya is by your side as you stare out over the waves, there’s no reason for Aleksander to be so concerned. But he is.

Over the past few days, you’ve regained your strength though you still look tired and pensive in a manner that only illness can make someone feel.

The necklace he had designed for you weighs heavily in Aleksander’s pocket.

Initially, the design had been merely practical. Something rare, not native to Ravka, so that a durast would be able to locate you if were wearing it. He had thought of the idea when you mentioned that Alina could have been kidnapped.

It was Genya who had inspired the design. She had asked him about Alina’s Winter Fete outfit, whether he wanted her to wear black and what sort of embellishments would he insist upon.

She had mentioned a necklace for Alina – his symbol.

Aleksander had told Genya it was Alina’s choice, whatever she wanted she could have. Meanwhile, he considered the design of your necklace. He didn’t want to be presumptuous about your relationship.

But you wore the Lanstov emerald on your finger. Aleksander wants to stake his own claim on you, even if he is the only one who knows it is there.

That is what makes him approach you now.

There’s a peculiar expression on your face, as though you had come to some sort of realisation. You reach a hand out for him, which he doesn’t hesitate to take.

“Is everything alright?”

Aleksander feels you nod as you press your face against his chest, and he wants to pull you closer. Then you murmur,

“Thank you for looking after me.”

I will always look after you. That’s what he wants to say. Instead, a nervous smile tugs at his lips as he steps back.

“I have something for you.”

A small frown creases at your brows and Aleksander’s smile softens as he retrieves the velvet pouch from his pocket.

His heartbeat is the only thing he can hear as you pull delicately on the ribbon, opening up the pouch to reveal the necklace nestled carefully inside.

Then you breathe out his name, and the world comes back into focus. The sound of the waves, the creak of wood beneath his feet, the whistling as it ruffles at his hair, it fills Aleksander’s senses. But all he can do is look at you as your eyes widen with what he hopes is wonder.

“Do you like it?”

Aleksander feels like a teenager, standing at the door of his first love with a bunch of wildflowers, hoping that you could love him.

“It’s beautiful. I love it.”

A bright smile spreads over his face, and when you ask him to help you attach the necklace he nods immediately. His fingers only shake momentarily, as he attempts to slot the clasp into place.

It might be selfish of him, to ask for your love when he will overlive you countless times over. But your reaction to the necklace has given him courage. If you want him as much as he wants you, he cannot deny you his love.

Once it is attached, Aleksander moves back to stand in front of you, revealing the luminous smile on your face.

He tells you about the design. That the metal is indestructible, a testament to his protection of you. The pearl is unique; something he had collected hundreds of years ago and kept for its simplistic beauty.

Emotion thickens in his throat as he sees tears well in your eyes, and he knows you understand the significance of his gift.

As he begins his confession, it becomes clear to him that you haven’t realised how important you are to him. Nevertheless, he continues, and Aleksander sees the moment you begin to understand what he is saying. Something like fear enters your eyes, and a tear traces its way down your cheek.

Aleksander struggles to breathe.

You mean too much to him, for his own feelings to drive you away. If you will be happier settled with an otkazat’sya, or even another Grisha, Aleksander will accept it. Not matter how much it will hurt him, he will accept it. He tells you this himself.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I will bury this, and allow you to seek happiness wherever you may find it.”

He steps away, the anticipation of rejection already clawing at his heart.

“I can’t.” Aleksander’s stomach twists at the sound of those two words from your lips. He swallows hard, taking another step back. “I can’t tell you I don’t feel the same.”

He freezes.

Aleksander stares at you, watching as a smile curls lightly at the corner of your lips.

“Because you know when I’m lying.”

A small laugh jostles Aleksander’s shoulders, accompanied by a breath of relief.

You’re right.

If you had told him you didn’t feel the same, he would have accepted your word, even as a lie. He would have let you move on, deny your feelings for him until you found someone else. Someone you could grow old with.

But you hadn’t lied to him.

You feel the same and you want him as he is. An immortal Grisha with a dark power and the capability of becoming a villain. You know him better than any other person, and you still want him.

Aleksander tugs on each side of the cloak you’re wearing – one of his cloaks – his eyes falling down to look at your lips as he brushes his forehead against your own.

His voice is a mere whisper as he admits,

“I want to kiss you.”

As he watches you bite down on your lower lip, suppressing the smile that sparkles in your eyes, Aleksander’s restraint nearly collapses.

“I should probably remind you that I’m technically engaged.”

Aleksander tilts his head at you in exasperation at denying him for such a superficial reason. He knows you have no intention of marrying Vasily, and your loyalty has always been Aleksander’s.

“We both know you’re not going to marry that fool.”

As your gaze flickers to his, Aleksander thinks you might enjoy the protective edge in his voice, fuelled by possession. You belong with him.

He hooks a finger underneath your jaw, his expression softening as he asks,

“Would he make you happy?”

“Not like you do.”

A thrill runs through the entirety of his body, thrumming against his soul with every beat of his heart.

He kisses you.

Delicate at first.

Memories of the last few days linger at the forefront of Aleksander’s mind. You have only just recovered. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He relishes in the sweet sigh that falls from your lips, succumbing to the temptation of furthering the kiss as you grip tightly onto the front of his kefta.

As he tilts his head, working his lips against yours more purposefully, you drag a hand through his dark locks. Aleksander shivers as you tug on his hair before your nails scrape lightly at the nape of his neck. A startled sound of pleasure bubbles at the back of his throat, and Aleksander feels your smile against his lips.

His hands trail down, squeezing your waist as he urges you closer, and once your body is fully pressed against his, Aleksander cups your face to capture every sigh and hum of pleasure.

Once you break apart, you’re both breathless and the rush of sea air into his lungs makes Aleksander dizzy for a moment. Or perhaps he’s still reeling from your kiss.

He feels your hands untangle themselves from his hair, resting momentarily on his shoulders before you slide your palms over his chest.

How long had it been since someone desired him so authentically? Aleksander knows that all Grisha are drawn to him. Even the otkazat’sya stare at him, always a mixture of fear and attraction. But you weren’t like that.

Aleksander swallows hard as you wrap your arms around him. You don’t want the Black General, or the Darkling. You just want Aleksander.

For a moment, he can barely believe it, but then you nuzzle your nose against the hollow of his throat, pressing a gentle kiss there, simply because you want to.

He knows Ivan is standing nearby, waiting to speak to him but he needs to show you his appreciation.

Cradling the back of your head, Aleksander tilts your face up towards his, allowing to drop another kiss down onto your lips. Then another. Another. One more. He can’t stop himself. Especially when his kisses bring such a beautiful smile to your face.

Then he straightens, amusement sparkling in his eyes when he sees you frown.

“Yes, Ivan?”

Aleksander can feel the skin at the back of your neck warming with embarrassment as you wonder how much of his affectionate display had been seen by the others.

As Ivan explains that Sturmhond wishes to speak with him, Aleksander nods, stroking his thumb back and forth over the nape of your neck, which pulls a shiver from you.

Turning back to you, Aleksander uses his other hand to hook under your chin, guiding your lips to his for an affectionate parting kiss.

His back is to Ivan and Zoya, meaning the soft smile on his face as he withdraws from your space is solely for you.

Aleksander keeps his eyes on yours until he physically can’t, turning away to join Ivan with the intention of meeting with Sturmhond.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander is in awe of the way you weave the world around you. He knows you believe your plans only work out because you know snippets of the future and things that no one else does about this world. He disagrees.

His own plans are a practiced art, a skill he has mastered over centuries of trial and error, taught by loss and experience. The skills he has learnt over these many years of existence come naturally to you, with such a wisdom, that Aleksander sometimes forgets that you aren’t the same age as him.

It's in your moments of doubt that Aleksander realises his age gives him something he can offer you. Reassurance. When Nikolai makes an offer of marriage to you, Aleksander doesn’t feel jealous. He knows your heart is his.

Despite this, you seem distressed when you tell Aleksander about it, and he discerns that you don’t want to love him in the dark. You don’t want him as your secret lover, robbing the chance to love one another freely from you both for the sake of your plans. But you’re as ambitious as Aleksander is, he knows you don’t want to discard this opportunity.

As you sit on the edge of Aleksander’s bed, he crouches in front of you, his arms settled on either side of you. He provides you with the encouragement needed to agree to Nikolai’s proposal, taking your face gently between his hands.

Aleksander presses his lips delicately against your forehead before he tilts his head down. His nose skims over the creased skin of your forehead, nuzzling away the small frown of concern there. He traces the tip of his nose down along the length of yours before he kisses you softly.

A small sound of pleasure hums in your throat and Aleksander smiles, leaning closer to press a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose which encourages a smile to linger on your lips.

“You wont have to marry anyone you don’t want to.”

His words are a promise, not only vowing to protect you from an unhappy marriage, but also whispering another assurance. I will be the only one to marry you, if you’ll have me.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander is awake when you first begin to turn over in your sleep. He doesn’t think much of it at first. You haven’t had a nightmare since your illness on board Sturmhond’s whaler. But the sound of a small whimper attracts his attention, and he props himself up against the headboard to watch over you.

A deep frown creases at your brows as your breathing picks up, distressed murmurs falling from your lips as you shake your head frantically.

Then you say something that has his stomach twisting.

“Aleksander no. Please, no.”

Gasping, you wake suddenly with a choked cry. The covers tangle around your limbs as your mind begins to process that you’re no longer wrestling with your nightmare.

Aleksander draws you carefully towards his chest, trying to settle your breathing without overwhelming you. Soft assurances fall easily from his lips in an attempt to calm you down. He takes your shaking hand in his own, guiding it to lie flat against his chest, allowing you to feel the steady motion of rising and falling with each even breath.

Once you begin to follow his lead, breathing becoming less frantic, he presses a kiss to your temple. I’m here for you.

He runs his fingers delicately over the bare skin of your shoulder, tracing invisible patterns to keep you grounded by the sensation.

Now that the majority of the panic has left you, exhaustion begins to creep into your body as you slump down against his chest heavily. Aleksander doesn’t mind being engulfed by you; it reassures him that you’re still with him.

“Do you think my nightmares have some sort of meaning?”

Your voice is a quiet murmur, half muffled by his shoulder, but he hears you in the silence of the night.

“Have they ever come true?”

“Not yet.”

“But you’re afraid this one will?”

He feels you nod.

The motion of his fingers over your skin halts as he breathes in slowly. Then he says,

“You said my name.”

He feels you stiffen slightly.

“Did I?”

“You were begging me not to do something.”

As always, you understand what he means. Lifting your head up from his chest, your eyes meet his as you cup his face with your hand. Aleksander wants to close his eyes and lean into your touch, but he needs to hear your response.

“You weren’t hurting me, Sasha. I’m not afraid of you.”

There’s pause or hesitation in your voice. Aleksander knows when you’re lying or using clever word choices to work your way around a question. You’re telling the truth. You aren’t afraid of him.

Then there is only one other thing your nightmare could have been about, and his heart aches at the thought of you being so afraid of losing him.

Leaning closer, you rest your forehead against his, breathing steadily. He can see the remaining tension begin to loosen from your body. Then you kiss him. Soft and sweet. A simple sign of appreciation for Aleksander and a reassurance for you.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

With each day that passes, you entwine your way deeper into Aleksander’s life, until he can no longer think of the day when you will be parted.

The king dies.

Throughout the mourning period, you and Aleksander make your plans for removing the Fold and repairing Ravka. Events that Aleksander has waited centuries for.

The two of you journey to the far north in search of Aleksander’s sister. Whenever he looks for her, Ulla is never far from the islands she created.

He doesn’t expect you and Ulla to interact much. His sister is distrusting and uncaring of mortals, and you were an otkazat’sya. An extraordinary one, in his opinion, but mortals were all the same to Ulla. Or at least he thought so.

But when you reappear from her cavern of treasures with the heart of Sankt Feliks in your hands, Aleksander realises he has misjudged his sister.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

With the Fold finally gone, Aleksander feels as though a weight has been lifted. Perhaps one day, many centuries in the future, the Black Heretic will be a mere footnote in Ravka’s history. Even with the removal of Aleksander’s main source of guilt, he cannot fully enjoy the celebrations.

There is too much to think about.

Countless new Grisha – sun summoners – had been created by the destruction of the Fold. Aleksander needed to organise a census to keep track of them all.

As current leader of both the First and Second Army, he was responsible not only for the continued campaigns on the frontlines, but the organisation of resource lines crossing the Unsea.

Despite all this, at the back of mind thoughts of you linger. He has barely seen you over the past few days, and he cannot help but think he is responsible for your absence.

As you were journeying into the Fold, Aleksander had mentioned that you might receive some of Alina’s power. At the time, it had made sense. You were otkazat’sya, just like every other person who was now a sun summoner.

But that hadn’t happened.

Aleksander could see that it upset you.

His thoughts linger on you now for the third time within the last few minutes. Sighing, he runs a hand over his face, discarding his pencil and pushing away the papers in front of him. His chair scrapes lightly over the floor as he pushes it back, deciding to search for you.

He hadn’t realised how late is was already.

Moonlight illuminates his path as he walks towards the doorway which leads to his bedroom. You’re not there. He crosses over towards the hallway, opening up the door opposite and stepping into your own room. The room you barely ever use.

The bed looks untouched. There are a few papers on your desk, but no candles burning.

Aleksander has one other theory for your whereabouts, and it is only once he has checked there will he allow himself to worry.

As he makes his way through the darkened corridors of the Grand Palace, the worry weighs on his chest. It’s only once he hears your laugh in the distance, that the worry loosens.

He rounds a corner, almost crashing into a rather intoxicated King Nikolai whose hand is held by your own as you wobble beside him.

Aleksander looks between the two of you, remarking drily,

“Good evening, Your Majesty.”

Nikolai turns to you with a bright smile.

“Found him.”

Warmth settles in Aleksander’s chest at the thought of you looking for him. He’s never seen you drunk. Tipsy perhaps, when he had offered you one of his favourite wines during a quiet evening together. But not like this.

Despite how unsteady you appear to be on your feet, you have enough thought to make Nikolai promise to be careful on the walk back to his rooms. Then you’re grasping hold of Aleksander and leaning against his chest.

Amusement has a soft smile lingering on Aleksander’s face as you mumble against the front of his kefta. You tell him that you can’t marry Nikolai, because you’re not in love with him. Because you’re in love with Aleksander. You also mention how pretty he is, which makes him chuckle.

Aleksander is sitting at his desk the next morning when you wake in his bed. A soft laugh falls from his lips when he sees the small scowl on your face as your eyes wince at the bright sunrise.

Casting a hand out, he calls forth the shadows to dim the light in an attempt at easing the throbbing that is no doubt a prominent feature in your temples. Once he’s finished, his fingers linger in the air before he gestures towards you, wanting you closer.

He wraps one of his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his side, and you rest your chin on the top of his head, sending a tingle down his spine.

When you apologise for disappearing he assures you it isn’t necessary. He continues to sign a number of reports, something in particular weighing at the back of his mind.

“I’m sorry too.” He sets his pen down, watching you frown which prompts him into continuing. “For being so occupied lately. I feel I’ve neglected you.”

You understand how important his position is. You don’t blame him for being busy, or for lifting your hopes about becoming Grisha.

Aleksander is quiet as you speak, explaining to him how over the last few months you haven’t accepted that you deserve him, too caught up by the fact that he will outlive you. You don’t want to love him for all your life; you want to love him for all of his life.

“But I’ve realised that by thinking like that, it means that I haven’t been appreciating that I have you right now.”

“You have me forever.” He cups your face in his hand, ensuring that you meet his gaze as he speaks, “There has never been any other like you, and there never will be. Not for me.”

Those words appear to have reached you, as he can see the emotion welling in your eyes as your lower lip wobbles slightly. A small tear falls down your cheek which he brushes away tenderly with his thumb, his expression softening at the sight of your tears.

“I love you, Aleksander.”

He kisses you softly.

“And I love you, my dearest.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

It’s finally over.

The dark sand of the Unsea that had stained the centre of Ravka for centuries was now gone, removed by sealing the tear at the making at the heart of the world – and it was all down to you.

Aleksander hadn’t prayed to the saints in years but seeing you in such pain as the tear had sealed closed, ripping you away permanently from your own universe, he weakened his resolve. As he held you close, he had prayed for you to survive.

Maybe the saints answered him, maybe you had done it all on your own, he wouldn’t be surprised. But you had survived an unfathomable experience, and here you were hugging Zoya as the others stare in awe at the revived Tula Valley. A sight Aleksander hasn’t seen in centuries, and something no one else in living memory has ever seen.

Fedoyr checks your injuries and begins to heal whatever damage was done by the making. Aleksander sits beside you on the boulder, hand cradling the back of your head as you grip onto his kefta.

From experience, he knows that healing isn’t a comfortable sensation and from the motion of Fedoyr’s hands the vast majority of your body requires some sort of healing.

A sigh of relief heaves at your body once the heartrender has finished his work. He bows when you thank him, and Aleksander smiles. Even the Grisha will believe you a saint after this. In Aleksander’s eyes you’ve always been akin to a saint. All knowing protector that offers him love and forgiveness for all that he is, and all that he could be.

His voice is soft as he asks,

“Are you alright now?”

A smile spreads over your features.

“Ravka is on the brink of rebirth. I have an incredible power, and I’m going to live forever.” The smile on your face softens as you add quietly, “Not to mention I have you.”

Aleksander smiles widely, and you press a gentle kiss to his lips before reassuring him,

“I’ve never been better.”

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, putting every ounce of love he has in him into the movement of his lips against yours. Even when he pulls away slightly, the two of you are enclosed in your own private little bubble.

Zoya’s voice is what shatters your moment.

“I don’t mean to interrupt a happy moment, but…”

Aleksander follows Zoya’s gaze, looking down at the boulder where you’re sitting. A carpet of luscious green has spread over the rocks surrounding you both, their small leaves accompanied by tiny white flowers that bloom under his very eyes.

A smile tugs at his lips, it appears your power is connected to your emotions, not unlike Aleksander’s. You must be quite powerful.

Your own smile is rather sheepish as you look down at the petals forming.

“I should probably learn how to control that.”

He brushes his knuckle gently over your cheek in reassurance.

“I will help you.”

“You’re Grisha now?”

Zoya smiles widely when you nod, and the word spreads quickly around your little traveling group. Soon, a small argument breaks out, as the different orders try to claim you as their own.

Sliding an arm your waist, Aleksander helps you to stand and the two of you begin to walk along the path leading back to your horses.

When Aleksander refers to the contention surrounding your Grisha order, you laugh softly.

“I wonder what kefta I will have.”

The idea of you considering any colour but his own almost offends Aleksander. He already has a few ideas for the design.

“It will be black of course.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

“Would you like to get married?”

There’s a sound of confusion at the back your throat, and you raise you head up from where it had been nestled over Aleksander’s folded arm.

The two of you are cuddled up on the sofa in the war room, and his words had clearly roused you from almost sleep as you stared at the fire crackling in the hearth.

“Married?” Aleksander hums in confirmation, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before he presses a kiss there which has you sighing softly as you settle comfortably underneath him. “When?”

“Whenever you’d like. We have time.”

“This weekend?”

A smile tugs at his lips at your enthusiasm as he traces a hand down your side.

“Of course, dearest.”

Aleksander kisses along your neck, his teeth scraping your earlobe lightly, and he feels you shiver.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.” His following suggestions are breathed out between kisses layered over your skin. “We could head to Os Kervo, somewhere by the sea. Or the Tula Valley, out in the fields. Maybe a small village somewhere?”

Breathless, your eyes flutter closed as you thread a hand through his hair.

“You pick, Sasha. As long as I’m with you I’ll be happy.”

His heart soars at your words. Aleksander isn’t certain whether it’s because you’re comfortable and sleepy or because of his carefully timed distractions, but your perfect wedding is slowly coming together with very little thought.

Aleksander continues his kisses, over your cheeks, nose, and forehead, his stubble scraping lightly over your skin.

“There’s a small village near the southern border, they have the most beautiful blossom trees. I think you’ll love it.”

You nod in agreement.

“No guests, no priest. Just the two of us.”

Aleksander mimics your nod.

“Just us, exchanging vows and rings together.”

Leaning down, Aleksander kisses your lips tenderly. The hand in his hair tightens its grip, and you urge him closer. He parts his lips, allowing you take him as your own.

He’s breathless when he pulls away for air, whispering out the words against your lips.

“I love you.”

His stomach flips at the sight of your smile, so full of love, illuminated by the warm firelight. When you take his chin between your fingers he shivers, and your smile widens as you rub the pad of your thumb affectionately over his stubble.

“I love you too.”

Aleksander loses himself in your kiss as you grasp languidly at one another. He can’t wait to be your husband.

He can hardly believe that it was in this very room that he first laid his eyes on you. Every day since that moment he has thought of you, and he knows he will continue to do so for the rest of his eternal existence.

Brushing his nose gently against yours, he chuckles quietly as he observes your eyelids drooping heavily.

“Falling asleep on me, my love?”

You pout at his teasing remark.

“It’s your fault.” At that, he laughs. “You’ve worn me out.”

“My apologies.”

Eyes closed, you swipe blindly at his shoulder and his laugh brightens as you miss, which appears to shatter your façade of disgruntlement.

He kisses you again, pulling you close against his chest to encourage you into his arms as he sits up.

It’s a short walk from the war room into the bedroom you share together. Aleksander feels you card a hand through his hair as he carries you, and when you squeeze the nape of his neck affectionately he presses a kiss against your temple.

Once the two of you reach Aleksander’s side of the bed, you extend a hand out and pull back the covers.

He settles you down on the sheets and you take the opportunity to get comfortable, turning on your side with a pillow tucked against your face.

Then Aleksander slips under the covers beside you, tucking the two of you in.

With a natural ease, his arm drapes over your waist, his hand settling into the crook of your leg as you curl it up in front of you. His thumb traces a slow circle over the top of your bare knee, and you hum in contentment.

Aleksander flicks his hand upwards momentarily, his fingers brushing against your skin as he summons the shadows to extinguish the candlelight in both the war room and your bedroom.

He hears you sigh softly as the darkness closes in.

“G’night Sasha.”

He drops one last kiss onto your shoulder, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

“Good night, my love.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

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

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @mxacegrey @budugu @cynthianokamaria @scarlettqueen190 @eloquentree @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sorrow-and-bliss @biblophilefox82 @tartiflvtte @rainbowgoblinfan @savagejane1 @sande5098

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

#marvelmusing the tenth muse #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #shadow and bone au #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #the darkling x you #the darkling fanfic #the darkling imagine #the darkling fic rec #fic rec

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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Heart‘s Ease

I have been struggling, really struggling, to finish SaB S2 for a number of reasons; but every chapter of @marvelmusing ‘s Keep Your Judgment has been my heart’s ease, allowing me to believe, to see Aleksander in a tender moment of connection with another soul, smiling at the guileless comfort of sharing another living creature’s company.

In the end, that’s what many of us want for him — respite for his body and mind, fewer burdens to carry for the rest of eternity. What @marvelmusing has imagined for this series is a staggering statement of compassion for anyone who has been worn down by loss upon loss, for little gain, in an interminable struggle. The Reader’s words in Chapter 5 carry over in a haunting echo:

“You know what it’s like to be hunted too.”

Aleksander’s own words then feel like an unbidden reply.

“This-” he lifts the vial lightly before he sets it down again “-acts as a reminder that I survived. Despite how… unforgiving the cost may be at times.”

@marvelmusing takes the strength of that conviction and transmutes it into a connection so unexpected and so full of wonderment in the gentle morning light, that any inner turmoil is quieted at the chapter’s close.

This is why we read stories; and time and again@marvelmusing restores us with hers.

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Seven

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: After putting your theory into practice, you find yourself stumbling back to the Sanctuary. Even as you struggle to feel human again, your instincts guide you to seek out the General.

Warnings: mentions of blood, canon level violence, shapeshifting.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Barely able to walk, let alone process your thoughts properly, you stumble over the grounds surrounding the Sanctuary.

A haze settles over your peripherals, akin to tunnel vision, and although your thoughts have no coherency you feel yourself being pulled back to the makeshift home the General had established for you all, as if you are a compass needle being pulled north.

All you can see is the ground beneath your feet as you take each step, dewy grass glistening in the moonlight and fallen leaves. It takes several seconds for you to figure out how to open the door, hands numb as they reach for the ornate handle.

Somehow, you walk through the hallways quietly, making your way to the General’s door. The knock of your knuckles against the wood rings in your head, shaking you from some of the dissociation you’re experiencing.

His frown is deep as he opens the door, shadows gathered protectively around him, and the darkness frames his features as they soften in recognition. Then his eyes widen at the sight of your face and clothing, smeared with red. As you speak, your voice scrapes hoarsely in your throat.

“I didn’t know who else to go to.”

He steadies you against his chest as your knees buckle, still feeling unused to standing on two legs again. Even as you grasp onto the soft fabric of his night shirt, your fingers don’t quite feel real, you can see the colour of your knuckles change of you tighten your grip, but you still feel detached from it all.

Too wrapped up in your disjointed thoughts, you don’t notice the General’s eyes scouring over you, assessing for wounds, and attempting to find the source of the blood over your tattered clothing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his hand reaching for your cheek.

Minutely, you shake your head, tilting your bloodied face away from his open palm to avoid staining his hands.

“It’s not my blood.”

After closing the door behind the two of you, he guides you over towards his bed, sitting you down carefully. The concept of a soft bed seems foreign to you, as if dirt and dried grass is the only place you should find peace lying on.

He regards you warily, even as he moves over to a small table at the side of the room. Picking up a porcelain jug, he pours a glass of water. The sound of rushing liquid rouses you a little, prompting you to speak.

“I was right. My theory about my amplifier.”

He turns, fixing his dark eyes on you. His eyes widen slightly as he realises what you mean, his gaze lowering to study the fox claw that is now a part of you. Then he slowly steps towards you.

“You mean to say that you…”

With shaking hands, you take the glass from him, eager to remove the taste of blood from your mouth. Feeling unused to gripping things with your hands, the glass almost slips through your fingers.

“Changed form. Yes.”

The cool water soothes the ache in your throat and removes some of the unpleasantness lingering on your tongue.

“I can fetch a healer for you.”

Shaking your head, you look down at the glass in your hands, observing the ripples over the surface of the water as you continue to shake slightly.

“I’m not hurt. I…”

Sighing, you take another drink before you place the glass down on his bedside cabinet.

“It went well, at first. It hurt, and it was strange, but I’ve never felt anything like it. To see the world from such an angle. New sights, smells, sounds.”

The memory of freedom, long blades of grass brushing against your fur as you ran through the fields, brings a small smile to your face, though it fades all to quickly as different memories return.

“But then I saw a rabbit.”

Understanding dawns on him and he steps closer as your voice wavers in distress.

“The fox’s instincts just took over. By the time I came back to myself, it was already dead. Half-eaten.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, carving a path over your bloodstained skin, leaving streaks over the dried red.

The cooks at the Sanctuary had served rabbit plenty of times before, and you had killed humans with your own hands. It wasn’t the death that had you so scared. It was the frightening lack of control. That for a moment, you had lost yourself.

The fox has gone quiet in your mind, but you know he feels guilty for what happened. The bond between the two of you is fresh, and perhaps you had put too much pressure on yourselves by initiating the change so soon.

The General curls his fingers around yours, thumb smoothing over the fox’s claw embedded in your hand which pulls you back from your musings.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says in a low voice.

Distantly, you manage a nod. When your fingers shake too much, hindering your efforts to undo the buttons of your shirt, the General reaches out, wrapping his fingers gently around your wrist.

Startled by the contact, you look up at him with wide eyes. He holds your gaze, unwavering as he guides your hand downwards to settle in your lap. Then he begins to unbutton your shirt.

“Would you like this off?” he asks you.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to answer him, but all you can muster is a nod. The weight of his gaze on your face encourages you to meet his eyes and give him another nod.

With your reassurance, he slides the bloodstained fabric from your shoulders, revealing your underwear. He tosses your shirt aside, away from where you might see it and be reminded of everything.

The wash basin he sets down beside you is filled with warm water and the cloth he wrings out is soft against your shivering skin.

At some point he must have rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the expanse of his forearms, veins prominent, lightly stained with the grey of lingering merzost.

Every touch is careful, even when removing the dried blood from your skin requires more force.

He uses a nailbrush to scrub every last trace of the rabbit’s blood from your hands. The rough texture and firm touch of his hands brings you back to yourself, ridding the numbness from your skin.

The sweet scent of soap begins to finally wrangle its way through the clog of iron in your nostrils. He appears to notice you wrinkling your nose and moves to open his beside drawer.

“Here.” He holds out a tiny vial and you frown at the sight of it. “Smelling salts. It should clear your nose.”

Tentatively, you take it from him. Almost absentmindedly, his fingers trace over your jawline with the delicacy of a butterfly’s wing, guiding your face towards the open vial as you inhale the sharp scent.

It buzzes through your nose, tingling at the back of your throat, but once you’ve taken a few breaths you begin to pick up on the other smells around you and realise how familiar the scent of the soap is. His scent. Up until this point, you hadn’t even realised he had a scent – not one so distinctive that you recognise it instantly.

He appears to notice the shift in your expression, tilting his head as he asks,

“Better?”

There’s a small frown drawing your brows together as you nod, eyes filled with a question as you hand the vial back to him.

He turns away, setting it back down on his bedside cabinet.

“The Fold has its own atmosphere,” he says lowly, and you hardly dare to breathe as you watch him. He doesn’t look at you but continues to speak. “A dry nothingness that sticks in your throat and the suffocating .”

Going into the Fold changes everyone. The first and only time you had entered the Fold was when you were nine years old, leaving your home of West Ravka to join the rest of the Grisha at the Little Palace.

“I wake sometimes, believing I’m still there in the darkness.”

He takes the vial between his fingers, spinning the glass over the old wood of the cabinet.

“This-” he lifts the vial lightly before he sets it down again “-acts as a reminder that I survived. Despite how… unforgiving the cost may be at times.”

With those last words, his mouth twists with a dark humour. Unsure of what to say, your voice is a mere whisper as you speak.

“General Kiri-”

“Aleksander,” he interrupts you.

He turns back around to face you fully.

“My name is Aleksander.” He looks down for a moment, rubbing each of his fingers with a towel before he adds, “I would like you to use it.”

Looking down, you trace your fingertip over the nail of your thumb, the memory of padded feet and claws ghosting at the edge of your mind.

“Thank you… Aleksander.”

He holds your gaze for a long moment, the weight of it thickening between you both with some emotion you can’t identify. Then he steps towards the side of the room, opening up a cabinet and selecting a dark shirt with a loose string fastening at the neckline.

“It will be easier the next time,” he assures you quietly, slipping your arms into the sleeves of his shirt. “Now that you know how to initiate the change, it will come naturally.”

“And if I lose myself again?”

“I shall be right by your side to bring you back.”

»»---------------------►

Sunlight wakes you, casting a soft warmth over your cheek. Humming softly, you shift closer to the warmth beside you. At the edge of your sleepy mind, the fox nuzzles apologetically at your consciousness.

It’s okay, you think quietly. We just need some practice.

The thought of fingers threading through red fur has you sighing, until your mind drifts and the owner of those fingers comes into focus. The General. Aleksander.

Blinking away your sleepiness, you take in your surroundings. Dark eyes meet yours, his hair ruffled boyishly, and his scars softened by the warmth of the morning light as he smiles at you.

“Good morning,” he murmurs.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

“Good morning,” you whisper shyly.

“Do you remember last night?” You nod. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright.”

He tilts his head slightly, as if he is considering something. His arm stretches up over his head momentarily, before he bends the limb, tucking it under the back of his head.

“Would you be able to shift for me?”

Blinking at him rather sleepily, you frown.

“Now?”

He hums in confirmation. Feeling slightly embarrassed, you turn your face into the pillow you had been sleeping on. One of his pillows.

“It probably isn’t a pretty sight,” you mumble in protest.

“I can close my eyes,” he suggests.

The smile returns to your face, hidden by his pillow.

“I’m only asking now because I don’t want you to be afraid of your ability, especially after what happened last night. Not to mention that you’re safer here than out in the woods.”

As you peek out from where your face has been pressed against his pillow, you notice Aleksander’s brows are furrowed slightly, as if he disapproves of you being out alone in the dark.

After holding his gaze for a long moment, you nod slowly before whispering,

“Okay.”

“Would you like me to close my eyes?” he asks. His tone is almost teasing, and amusement sparkles in his eyes, but you know he is being genuine.

When you nod in response he closes his eyes dutifully, allowing you the opportunity to call forth the fox without the pressure of him watching you.

Aleksander was right. It comes more naturally to you this time; the pain is minimised to a strange prickling sensation and your vision darkens momentarily. When your vision returns, you’re nudging your nose against his arm.

His lashes flutter delicately against his cheekbones as his eyes open, squinting slightly in the sunlight before his dark eyes fall onto you.

The chill of the morning air no longer bothers you, as your fur keeps you warm, but the fox’s instincts overrule your own shyness and soon you’re nuzzling yourself against Aleksander’s side.

He moves slowly but you’re not startled as he lowers his palm against your side, smoothing gently over the fur there. A small sound of contentment hums in your chest as you close your eyes, resting your chin and neck down over his ribs.

Unlike the change you had initiated last night, both you and the fox seem more aligned with your thoughts and wants this morning. In this moment, all you want to do is rest quietly beside Aleksander as he continues to pet you tenderly.

As you open your eyes, you tilt your head slightly to watch his expression. Finding his gaze already on you isn’t a surprise. With infinite care, he traces his fingers over the top of your snout before his knuckles brush lightly against your ears.

In response to the ticklish sensation, you shake your head, flicking your ears with a small huff. He withdraws his touch quickly and you nudge his hand in reassurance that he hadn’t made you uncomfortable.

Licking tentatively at his fingers that hang mid-air, you manage to bring a smile to his face which encourages Aleksander to continue his petting.

“You’re quite remarkable, you know that?” he muses quietly with a small smile. Then he frowns. “Can you understand me like this?”

He breathes out a soft laugh at himself as you nod.

In the early morning sunlight, reclined against his pillows, Aleksander looks so much younger like this. It seems that your achievement has lifted his spirits dramatically.

He still looks tired and some of the veins in his neck and arms are stained a shadowed grey as the merzost feeds on his body, but there’s a lightness in his eyes as he looks down at you.

His fingers circle over a spot at the crown of your head, nestled between your ears, and an unintentional noise escapes from the back of your throat. A rather high-pitched whine for more attention.

Aleksander’s eyes widen, amusement sparkling there as his lips twitch into a smile that widens when you retreat slightly, tucking your face into the space where his side meets the mattress. His chuckle has you burying yourself even further away from his sight, nosing your way underneath his bicep.

Unfortunately, he lifts his arm, removing your hiding space.

He repeats his previous motion, fingers rubbing at the top of your head, and you slump down defeatedly onto the mattress. Tucked against his body, you resign yourself to making more of those embarrassing noises as he pets you.

When his nails scrape lightly against a delightfully sensitive spot behind your ear, a particularly loud noise rumbles through your body. Aleksander makes a gentle shushing sound but when you lift your head you see the smile tugging at his lips.

“We don’t want anyone to come in and see a fox in my bed,” he reasons quietly.

He frowns slightly as you stand up, bounding over his stomach and lowering yourself down from the bed. Claws clicking over wooden floorboards, you head towards the open door that leads to his bathroom.

In the privacy of the small room, you shift back into your human form. The process still feels uncomfortable, but once you’ve stretched your arms and legs a little the stiffness in your muscles eases.

For a moment, you lean against the counter, fingers curling around the lip of the porcelain wash basin there as you stare into the mirror. Widened pupils stare back at you as you observe the wildness of your hair and flushed skin. Breathing out a small laugh of surprise, you smile widely at yourself.

As you move to shut the bathroom door behind you, Aleksander’s eyes meet yours. He seems momentarily surprised at the sight of you, his lips parted as his gaze traces over your features. He smiles softly and the fox in your mind licks at your thoughts affectionately as you admire the man in front of you, bathed in sunlight.

The smile on your face doesn’t fade and your eyes remain fixed on his, even as you close the door slowly. Leaning against the wall for a moment, you feel a rush of affection for Aleksander, the fox scampering happily amongst the giddiness you’re feeling.

This morning has been a turning point, you can feel it in your soul.

»»---------------------►

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

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

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

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

KYJ Tag List: @tartiflvtte @weepingwitchofthewest @issybee0611 @poemfreak306

»»---------------------►

#marvelmusing the tenth muse #Aleksander Morozova #General Kirigan #The Darkling #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #aleksander kirigan x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic rec #fic rec

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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OMG WHY HAVE I NOT SEEN THIS BEFORE AND AGAIN OMG WHY ISN’T THIS REAL I WILL CHEW ON MY WHOLE DAMN HOUSE 😭😭😭

The Lieutenant

Whether it be audio, visual, or physical, the Lieutenant has something to please everyone no matter what you’re looking for.

Karen thinks her boyfriend’s best friend can help you wind down from your stressful life.

Of course, you’re not going to tell her that you already have several of his audios downloaded onto your phone, or that your finger has hovered over the “book a session” button too many times.

So when she invites you over for dinner at her apartment, and Billy Russo - the Lieutenant - answers the door you feel as though you’ve been doused in cold water.

He smiles easily and says your name in questioning, “…right?”

You nod dumbly, legs wobbling at the sound of him saying your name. He quirks a brow at you curiously and takes the wine bottle from your hand before guiding you towards the kitchen where Frank and Karen are cooking dinner.

Karen looks over at you with a devious glint in her eyes as Billy places a hand on your waist to move you slightly and allow him to stand beside you as the two of you watch Frank at the stove.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine, you’ve fantasised about his hands countless times, and he looks even more attractive in person. He catches your gaze and smirks.

It’s then that you realise how much trouble you’re in.

#billy russo #please 😭#billy russo the punisher #billy russo imagine #billy russo edit #marvelmusing the tenth muse

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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THERE IS NO DECENT WAY TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH I NEED THIS….

The Lieutenant has Spotify btw

#i can’t 😫#omg #please 😭#unintelligible noises #high pitched wheezing #gurgling #the sound of furniture being eaten #billy russo #billy russo edit #billy russo the punisher #billy russo imagine #marvelmusing the tenth muse

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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THE SQUEE I SQUUUEEEEEED! 🥰

In Another Life is forever in my heart as The One True Ending, and I cherish any chance to return to its world and its characters.

This snippet of their lives that @marvelmusing just shared is so unbelievably precious. Sweet Sasha and the lengths he must have gone to describe sunglasses to a Fabrikator, and a t-shirt and jogging pants to the baffled otkazat’sya measuring him for tunics (“Trousers held up by… by string, moi Soverenyi? And a t-… t-sh….short tunic?”)

These lines though, that tie the Reader’s past with the present, it weaves wistfulness into an abundant love we feel from worlds away.

He looks just as handsome as ever and you can’t stop yourself from imagining him in your old world, a charming stranger that you run into one sunny day in a park. Perhaps that’s how you meet in some other reality.

Here, regret is such a distant thing; there is only the present and how things are meant to be.

PS I am also surviving SaB Season 2 by listening to the @marvelmusing ‘s IAL playlist on repeat.

Keep Your Judgement is another masterpiece in the making, and it’s helping me immensely with the stages of my grief 🥲

This tho, I saw and thought…. What if years after marriage, IAL Aleksander has had many conversations about the Reader’s world, including what men of that world wore. For an anniversary, he has Fabrikators create what he understood to be the approximation of said fashion and, voila… i mean, he meant well and all 😅☺️

I’m so in love with every piece of bts content we get, seeing the actors just chilling or messing around while in costume is one of my favourite things

anyways, here’s a little something for you...

New Wardrobe

Featuring IAL!Aleksander x Reader

For a solid five seconds you stare at your husband, not quite comprehending what you are seeing. Whatever words had been half out of your mouth are now forgotten as you stand at the threshold of the former war room after wandering through your bedroom in search of him.

Once your body settles on a reaction, you find yourself pressing your palm to your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Are- are those sunglasses?” you ask.

Aleksander turns to look at you from where he’s seated at his desk, a pair of shaded glasses perched on his nose as he flashes you a wide smile. At that, you can’t help but turn away to laugh.

With every day you spend living in Ravka, everything here becomes more and more real to you. What was once fantasy is now your normality. But seeing the Darkling wearing sunglasses - indoors - is too amusing and absurd for you to remember that he is also your husband.

A hand against the door frame steadies your folded body as you bend over with your laughter. Every time you push back the amusement, you turn to look at Aleksander, only to continue laughing.

Only when you see him pouting, pushing his chair back to leave, do you manage to somewhat stop yourself.

“No Sasha, love, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you,” you tell him. Moving quickly towards him, you wrap your arms around his middle as you press your forehead against his back. “I promise. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Surprised you?” he repeats drily.

“I wasn’t expecting it.” After a small pause, you ask tentatively, “Why are you wearing them inside?”

“I heard you coming and just wanted to show you them.”

“What if I was actually Ivan?” you ask teasingly, imagining the heartrenders face attempting to remain neutral at the sight of Aleksander wearing sunglasses - a previously unheard of accessory in Ravka.

“Ivan would knock on the door, not walk through our bedroom.”

Aleksander pulls the glasses away from his eyes as he turns to face you, finding a fond expression on your face though the amusement still sparkles in your eyes as he places them down on his desk.

Then your gaze falls down to the rest of his outfit. He’s wearing his summer kefta, a lighter fabric than the thick wool of its winter counterpart, and his thin black tunic. The cut of the neckline for both of these articles of clothing is quite low cut, something you particularly enjoy.

But today you spot something underneath, black fabric with a rounded neckline, almost like a t-shirt. Frowning, you look at the rest of him.

“Are you wearing sweatpants?”

He looks away almost sheepishly, brows pulling together slightly in resignation, as if he knows his answer will give you even more entertainment than the sunglasses.

“Perhaps.”

Instead of laughing, you suppress the twitch at the corner of your mouth and slowly slide your hands under the lapels of his kefta, slipping it from his shoulders. He tilts his head aside, watching you as his kefta is draped over the back of his chair by your careful hands.

Unclasping the hidden hooks of his tunic, you reveal the full ensemble he has created. Black t-shirt and black sweatpants. The smile on your face widens, which makes Aleksander sigh as he narrows his eyes at you in warning.

“Still surprised?” he teases, but a pretty pink is dusting its way over his cheekbones.

Seeing Aleksander wearing clothing that had once been so ordinary for you, instead of ornate keftas of silk and wool, sends a thrill through you.

Standing on tiptoe, you place the sunglasses back on his face, smile softening as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Very surprised.”

#marvelmusing the tenth muse #omg i love this so much #thank youuu <333 #In Another Life is The One True Ending #Aleksander Morozova #The Darkling #aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone au #Spotify

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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“Not yet. But there will be.”

Perhaps it isn’t about you claiming the fox, maybe the fox is the one to claim you.

I found that line incredibly moving. It’s always bothered me in canon how claiming an amplifier had no ceremony to it. The whole process felt callous and shallow (the show did a better job with the Stag at least).

This Reader is insightful and gives the world around her the respect rightfully deserved. In that sense, I understand better how a durast could be so attuned to what materials make up their surroundings, and so they take nothing for granted.

@marvelmusing continues to open our eyes to possibilities overlooked and potential denied. We then easily share the Reader’s determination as she responds to Baghra — Not yet. But there will be.

There will be more than we have so far been given; the magnitude of that promise is poised on a knife-tip, and the hand at the hilt has never been more sure.

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Five

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Progress is made with your work regarding the amplifier, and you grow closer to the General.

Warnings: canon level violence (mentions of Grisha persecution, death, and amplifier claiming), minor spoilers for season two.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

“You cannot fix everything, child.”

A frown creases at your brows as you work on the rip you had caused in Fruzsi’s kefta during a sparring session of which she insists you had cheated. She hadn’t specified a no knives rule and hiding a blade up your sleeve has become a new habit of yours.

The frown on your face isn’t a result of the kefta, which knits itself back together neatly as you smooth a circular motion over the fabric with your palm. The frown is because the workshop is empty, meaning you are the unlucky target of Baghra’s scorn – something you thought you could live the rest of your life without.

“It’s a kefta, Baghra. I learnt to make these when I was twelve.”

She scoffs.

“I’m not talking about that measly scrap of cloth. I’m talking about your beloved General.”

Fruzsi would certainly be offended by that comment about her kefta and something inside you cringes at the old woman’s sneer at the word ‘beloved’.

Doing your best to ignore Baghra, you trace your fingertip over some of the frayed embroidery, using your power to weave the deep blue tidemaker pattern back into place amongst the glossy silk.

“The merzost is poisoning him, and there is no cure.”

Without looking at her, you muse quietly,

“No cure, yet.”

She hums mockingly, the corner of her mouth lifting into a smirk. Her clothing shifts against metal bars as she leans backwards on her stool.

“A little optimist.”

Rolling your eyes, you glance over at her.

She’s been playing the weak old woman act whenever David or Vladim have been in the workshop, hoping to incite some pity from them. After all, neither of them had been subjected to her lessons, unlike you, they don’t know what she is truly like.

“I know what you’re doing. It won’t work.”

She holds your gaze for a long moment. Baghra certainly isn’t afraid of you, but something makes her fidget with the bandage wrapped around the remaining stub of her finger.

Then she calls out,

“Stop lurking, boy.”

Turning your head, your eyes lock with the General’s as he steps into the workshop. His expression shifts as he looks away from you to glower at Baghra, his voice terse as he speaks,

“Mother.”

Finished with mending Fruzsi’s kefta, you stand up slowly, hoping not to draw attention to yourself. As you pick up your book of folktales, tucking it against your chest as you fold the kefta under your other arm, you feel the weight of the General’s eyes on you.

Giving him a small nod, you move towards the door he had just stepped through.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you say quietly.

He inclines his head as you walk by him.

At the sound of your name, you turn back with a small frown. For a moment the General doesn’t seem to know what he was going to say to you.

“Any further developments?” he asks, gesturing lightly towards the table beside him where Vladim has curated an extensive collection of ingredients.

The search for the fox amplifier meant that you now spend a lot of time out in the woods, and as a result Vladim’s desk has new additions on a regular basis. Whenever you find a plant that could be useful, you retrieve some leaves or seeds to aid him in his experiments – and hopefully improve the General’s condition.

“I made some adjustments to Vladim’s tonic,” you tell him, fiddling with the spine of your book. “Added bramble leaves which should help with your throat and the fatigue.”

As you’re speaking, your gaze flickers over his shoulder, landing on Baghra who stares at you with a pointed look that makes you bristle as if you can hear her thoughts.

There is no cure.

Almost instantly, you have a determined response. Not yet. But there will be.

He nods in acknowledgement, his eyes skimming over the cordials and glass bottles perched on Vladim’s desk.

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause between you both, as his gaze flickers over to meet yours and you offer him a small smile. For a moment you think the corner of his mouth moves to return you smile.

As the silence hangs, you step back.

“I should go.”

He nods again before he turns away and you step out of the workshop, making your way down the corridor towards your room to change out of your kefta and into your walking clothes.

»»---------------------►

Dampness hangs in the air, making the horizon hazy with mist as you walk through the trees, boots collecting dew from the grass you trek over quietly. Birds chirp overhead, providing you with some comfort. If the birds are here, then it must be safe.

Walking alone in Ravka is becoming more and more dangerous these days, especially for Grisha. First Army patrols change course regularly in an attempt to find the General. There’s been rumours of Grisha hunters – Ravkan not the Drüskelle – tracking down Grisha that had gone on the run.

The General doesn’t allow many people to leave the Sanctuary and he has increased the number of Grisha patrolling during both day and night to ensure the house is well protected.

Alongside Fruzsi and Fedoyr, you make up the small council that the General keeps, the four of you meet regularly to discuss patrols, rescue missions, and general housekeeping for the Sanctuary.

It feels strange, to have suddenly gained such importance for your people, but despite the pressure you feel, it’s much better than whatever meagre task you might have been doing if you were an ordinary durast.

A snap in the distance has you freezing in place, eyes scouring over your surroundings to seek out any threats. If only you were a corporalki, all you can do is clasp your hands together and search for any nearby metals. But there’s nothing. No armour, no swords or guns, no knives – aside from the one up your sleeve and at your waistband.

Then a flash of red catches your attention.

Hazel eyes lock on yours and the breath stutters in your lungs.

The fox. You’ve found him.

He moves slowly, gaze unwavering as he studies you intently. Halted mid-step, he places his paw down in front of his body, edging his way towards you slowly.

When you had heard that Morozova’s stag existed – a towering white stag with huge antlers – you had expected all amplifiers to be large and majestic. But the fox looks like any other you might find in the woods.

Except his eyes. There’s a cunning edge there that reassures you that this is the fox you’ve been searching for. Power glimmers in each strand of fur, dewy from the raindrops that cling to the tall grasses surrounding him.

Above you, the birds flee, and you immediately look around, hearing voices in the distance. Heart pounding, your gaze whips back to the fox, but he’s already gone.

Right now, your priority is getting back to the Sanctuary safely, without being seen.

»»---------------------►

From that moment onwards, you visit the fox regularly, bringing gifts of berries and dried scraps of meat whenever you can. His bright hazel eyes always watch you intently, a peaceful presence by your side as you sit in the long grass.

The first time you trace your fingers over its thick fur a shiver runs through your body as you feel the fox’s power sing in your bones.

The theory you have is that if you can bond with the fox before claiming its power then it might be easier for you to merge forms. In all honesty, you have no idea how Grisha of the past had managed to execute such a feat.

Perhaps it isn’t even possible. But you have to try. Not only would becoming one with the fox allow you to use the full extent of your power, but it would also give you an advantage over any opponent you might face.

The General hasn’t asked you about the fox recently, though you often spot him watching you intently as you train, finding new ways to use your power to fight. Maybe the fox’s power lingers inside you, even when you return to the Sanctuary, because your power seems to flow within you better than ever.

Perhaps it isn’t about you claiming the fox, maybe the fox is the one to claim you.

Nevertheless, you find yourself enjoying your days, even with the threat of civil war and the General’s worsening condition dangling over your head.

»»---------------------►

Whilst the tidemaker’s mist keeps the Sanctuary hidden, it also makes the air chilly, and the lingering moisture in the air clings to your kefta as you rub your fingers together in an attempt to produce some warmth.

A peaceful quiet has settled over the grounds, in this moment where sunlight has risen over the mountains but very few people are awake. Soon enough, training will begin, and Grisha will be bustling about as they hone their abilities in preparation for whatever your next move will be.

Confrontations with the First Army have been increasing and you’ve heard rumours of Grisha being executed by firing squad.

The small refuge built here by the General feels more temporary by the day. East Ravka isn’t a large country. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds the Sanctuary.

Shifting slightly, you attempt to ease the ache that has settled into your legs from sitting on the edge of the low stone wall. Tucked away at the back of the house, your position allows you to see into what was once a small garden.

Now, the rose bushes are overgrown, and the stone plant basins are cracked and crumbling, but watching the rabbits explore the undergrowth provides you some entertainment, drawing your attention away from the book of folktales sitting in your lap.

The sound of wood creaking has you turning your head slightly, as the door behind you opens and the General steps out onto the smooth stone paving that makes up the worn out patio.

The dark circles under his eyes appear more defined this morning, the symptoms of his merzost use must have been keeping him from sleeping. Perhaps you should suggest another cordial, something for him to drink nightly, to ease his symptoms and allow him to sleep somewhat soundly.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile as his eyes meet yours.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “May I join you?”

You nod.

“Of course.”

Bundling up the excess of your cloak, you edge your way closer towards the garden to give the General enough space to sit beside you.

“I read through your proposal.”

His voice is low, and he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. Looking down at your feet, you trace the toe of your boot through a dewy patch of grass.

“You think I’m insane.”

At the corner of your vision, you see the General shake his head.

“It has been quite some time since I last met someone whose ambition rivals my own.”

For some reason, his words bring a smile to your face. This man has done terrible things, dabbled in forbidden magic that is slowly corrupting his body, stealing his health from him. But the thought of being just a little bit like him makes a warmth settle in your chest.

Less than a year ago, you were an inconsequential little durast, tinkering away in the materialki workshops, making corecloth for the war effort.

Now you’re sitting beside the General, feeling a strange kinship with him.

“You wouldn’t have looked twice at me, back at the Little Palace,” you remark quietly, keeping your gaze away from his.

Two rabbits chase one another in the distance, weaving among the grass and leaves, kicking up dirt as they scurry about. It’s only once the silence has dragged on that you find the courage to look at his face.

His eyes scour over your features, studying you intently as you wonder what he’s thinking. His expression doesn’t change as he says in a low voice,

“Perhaps. But I’m looking at you now.”

»»---------------------►

The woods are quiet today, which unsettles you. Something in the back of your mind is warning you about something, but you continue along the familiar route towards where the fox likes to roam on sunny days like this.

At the sound of horses approaching, your heart hammers in your chest, and without a thought you take off running towards a mound of rocks where you know there’s a small cave.

Skidding as you near the entrance, you practically throw yourself down into the cave, pressing your back against hard rock as you strain your ears for the sound of horses or their riders.

Voices echo in the distant, but you can’t tell if they’re moving towards or away from you.

Clutching your knife in your hand, you attempt to slow your heart down, annoyed by the sound of it rushing through your ears and hindering your awareness of any oncoming threats.

At the sound of movement at the entrance to the cave, you retreat further into the stony depths, hiding in the shadows. The sight of red fur glistens in the low light and a pair of hazel eyes find yours.

Sighing in relief, you allow the knife to slip from your fingers, dropping to the ground as the fox approaches and you extend a hand towards him.

He moves over towards you without hesitation, stopping briefly to duck his head down by your feet before he nuzzles against your legs.

“You know what it’s like to be hunted too,” you muse quietly.

As you stroke your hand over the white fur at his chest, you realise what’s in his mouth. Your knife. Eyes flickering up to meet his hazel ones, you find an almost determined glimmer amongst the swirling golden browns and blues there.

Leaning back, you settle yourself down onto a chunk of rock, and the fox drops the knife in your lap, nudging your hand with his nose. Slowly, you curl your fingers around the hilt of the knife, eyeing the fox with a small frown.

“You’re sure?” you ask softly.

His eyes don’t waver from yours.

Tightening your grip on the knife, you look down at the blade as it shines in the low light. He licks at your knuckles, almost reassuringly. This is what you had wanted, the opportunity to become more powerful than you ever thought possible.

With your abilities amplified, you could protect more Grisha, perhaps you could even save the General. The theory you’ve been working on, balancing the merzost in his body, will require a powerful durast.

One of the reasons why you had been attempting to master the Cut was so that you could ensure that the fox’s death would be painless, but you hadn’t managed to do much more than a scratch with your power. The knife will have to do.

The creature’s claw should be a suitable material to create the connection between you both, and being a durast means you can fabricate your own amplifier as soon as possible.

Steadying the knife in your hand, you straighten your shoulders, breathing out a smooth exhale as you press the tip of the blade over the fox’s chest. Power thrums through you as you feel the metal of knife, poised to sink into flesh, the angle you’ve chosen will ensure it is unhampered by the bones that will amplify your abilities.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The knife sinks downwards.

»»---------------------►

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

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

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

KYJ Tag List: @tartiflvtte @weepingwitchofthewest

»»---------------------►

#marvelmusing the tenth muse #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone au #fic rec

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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Will just leave this here, y’all are welcome.

Aleksander Morozova NSFW Alphabet

(Featuring Fem!Reader)

A/N: there are so many different versions of Aleksander in my head, so for this alphabet I’ve decided to base it on having an established relationship with S1!Aleksander (who has some extra Book!Darkling features).

[18+ content under the cut]

My Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He enjoys soaking up the moment, letting the pleasure linger as you both come down from your highs. Whether he’s draped over the foot of the bed, or lying with you tucked against his chest, no matter what, his eyes are always on you, drinking in the sight of your pleasure flushed skin and the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to settle your breathing. Slowly, he will trace his fingers over each and every inch of you, assessing for any damage and admiring your body.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hands. When you cradle his face between them he all but melts into a puddle at your feet, ready to worship you. He likes to watch your hands whenever you undress him, whether that be a delicate teasing as you slowly unclasp his belt or a frantic tug at his shirt, he loves it all.

He knows you love his neck and nothing makes him shiver like feeling your mouth against the hollow of his throat before you nose your way upwards, pressing kisses along his thundering pulse until you reach his jawline, taking the edge of it between your teeth.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He likes making a mess of you. If you don’t enjoy it as much, then he will save this indulgence for only special occasions. If you also enjoy it, then he will thoroughly delight in smearing his release over your chest, down your stomach, and particularly over your thighs. After that, he will watch you lick his hands and fingers clean.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is a bit of an exhibitionist. But just for subtle things. It’s not about people seeing you during intimate moments, it’s more that he enjoys other people seeing a glimpse of how disheveled and blissful he can make you, which acts as a casual reminder to everyone that you’re his.

He likes it when messengers call on him during the morning, and they see you wearing one of his shirts with kiss swollen lips and a certain glow about you. He likes it when the servants find his clothes in your room, or yours in his. He likes it when people do their best to ignore the marks down your throat and over your collarbones.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Aleksander knows what he’s doing, but his experience has only been gained because he’s lived so long. He loses his virginity in his mid-twenties because he’s never settled in one place long enough to feel comfortable being intimate.

At that point in his life, he avoids sleeping with Grisha because the skin to skin contact would reveal that he is an amplifier (putting himself in danger) and he doesn’t trust otkazatsya enough to be comfortable around them.

As the centuries go on, and he gains a more elevated status, he finds himself able to enjoy a few partners, mostly to take his mind off everything else. There are a few that he genuinely cares for, despite his best efforts since he knows he will outlive them.

He’s very perceptive, so he quickly learns what you like and commits it to memory. His commanding aura also gives you an impression of his experience.

F = Favourite Position (this goes without saying)

Anything that keeps you close and allows him to run his hands all over your body. He likes sitting with his back against the headboard, you in his lap while he grasps at your hips, guiding you with each move of your hips.

When you’re on your back, he usually ends up pinning your legs into whatever position he desires with his shadows so that his hands are free to roam over your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers as well as cupping your face or gripping your throat as he kisses you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Mostly serious during the act but he can definitely be soft and playful at times. He’s more teasing during these moments. Sometimes there’s a flirtatious back and forth between the two of you during the lead up, before you decide to abandon the teasing and take what you want from each other.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

He keeps himself pretty well maintained. There’s a small trace of hair over his lower stomach that begins just above his waistband and trails downwards into a small bundle of dark curls.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Aleksander is putting all of his focus on you, ensuring that you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. In day to day life, he’s well attuned to your needs and that’s no different during sex.

To Aleksander, real intimacy is the combination of physical touch and trust. He trusts that your touch will not hurt him, and vice versa. You know what his hands are capable of, but you trust him to touch you. As a result, every touch been the two of you is intimate, but especially during something sexual.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Before the two of you were together, he would find himself fantasising about you, though it took him a long time give in and actually think about you whilst touching himself.

The first time he did it, he locked his doors and settled under the covers of his bed with flushed cheeks at the thought of what he was doing. It took a matter of minutes, thinking of your hand on his cock or your face between his thighs, before he neared his climax.

As his mind drifted, distracted by the pleasure, he thought of thrusting into your cunt, of how tight and wet you would be, so perfect. In seconds, he spilled over his hand and his sheets, blinking in surprise at the speed of his climax before the bliss settled into his bones.

From that moment onwards, he knew he had to have you, at least once in his life.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Loves overstimulating you, partially because it ties into making a mess of you, but also because of the trust you place in him to know your limits. He loves giving you total pleasure, wringing countless orgasms from your body, until you’re writhing beneath him and he needs to use his shadows to pin you down so that he can continue.

He likes putting his hand around your throat, not necessarily to choke you but just to remind you that he’s the one in control, also he likes directing your attention - telling you to look at his face or watch your reflection if you’re facing the mirror opposite his bed.

Mirror sex with Aleksander is quite an intense experience, with him edging you while ensuring that you watch yourself become more and more desperate. Throughout this, he murmurs in your ear about how beautiful you are, and everything else he adores about you. The whole thing usually brings tears to your eyes and Aleksander makes sure to look after you attentively for the rest of the night.

He also enjoys cockwarming. Having you as close as physically possible, constantly feeling the point where the two of you are connected as he runs his hands over your body. If you’re facing him then he can kiss you leisurely until you’re breathless and then he can move downwards over your throat and along your shoulders.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

The comfort of your private suite is Aleksander’s favourite place, usually the bed, although you've tried plenty of other spots - the bath, the sofa, his desk, even the rug by the fireplace.

Of course, that isn’t to say he won’t drag you into a small nook somewhere in the palace, shielding you both from sight with his shadows. But that means you have to be quiet, and Aleksander loves hearing you, so the two of you prefer somewhere private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing you always unlocks something inside him, making his hands wander as he seeks more of you. If your hands are in his hair, or if your fingers curl around his neck, Aleksander is fully prepared to fuck.

Seeing you wearing black - his colour - makes him want to steal you away for himself and show you off to everyone simultaneously. When the two of you look like a matching pair, he preens the whole time, and can’t help but think of how beautiful you look naked, grasping at black bed sheets.

Saying his name is a guaranteed way of getting his attention and depending on the tone you use can have him inside you almost instantly. He doesn’t allow many people to know his name and hearing you say it always sends a thrill through him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Fearplay and bloodplay. He’s seen too much fear and blood from people he cares about to find it enjoyable. He won’t mind chasing you or trying to capture you, as long as you’re enthusiastic about it, as well as it being playful and lighthearted.

He doesn’t mind being a little mean to you (in a teasing manner) but Aleksander has to be stern and demanding every day, so it’s nice to put that persona away when he’s with you. He knows he’s capable of being cruel and would never want to say something that has the potential to hurt you, even when you both know deep down that he would never mean it.

Aleksander doesn’t like being on the receiving side of bondage. Having his hands tied up or being restrained in any way brings back bad memories for him and makes him feel out of control.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

As much as he loves the sight of you kneeling in front of him with your face between his thighs and your mouth on his cock, he could spend hours with his tongue lapping against your cunt.

He has actually spent hours, suckling your clit, mouth moving leisurely over your entrance to swallow down your wetness, moaning lowly.

He loves when you grasp at his hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp as you thread your fingers through his dark locks, tender with him despite the pleasure that has you crying out for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc)

Aleksander enjoys going slow, taking his time to remove every coherent thought from your mind.

But there’s also times when you can feel the tension in his body and you urge him to go harder, assuring him that you can handle the worst of him - the parts that want to leave marks on you, claiming you as his. Then he’s rough, holding onto you like you might slip away if he doesn’t grip tight enough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

Not very often. Sometimes when he’s particularly stressed you visit him between meetings, and either kneel under his desk to take his cock into your mouth or staddle his lap to encourage him inside you.

He prefers to take his time with you, and his infamous patience and restraint means that he rarely indulges in something quick when he can just wait until he has you for as long as he wants.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

Aleksander is always willing to talk things through with you about something you want to try. He has his own ideas and fantasies, which he enjoys explaining to you casually while you sit in his lap and try not to show him how needy his words are making you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

It depends. Some nights, when you’ve both had a tiring day, one round is enough to have you both collapsing into one another’s arms and sleeping once you’ve cleaned yourselves up.

Other nights, when you can’t get enough of one another, there’s countless rounds with the occasional small break between where you simply touch each other lovingly. By the end of the night, your entire body is light with pleasure and you sink into a blissful sleep with Aleksander’s arms around you.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He might have a few plugs with a black gem at the base to make you needy and remind you of who you belong to. But he prefers to touch you himself, liking the contact and feeling firsthand how your body responds to him.

If he wants to feign detachment from your pleasure, he’ll make you grind against his pillow or a cushion, so he can sit nearby, ignoring you whining his name and pretending to read just to rile you up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Aleksander is ridiculously patient, it’s a skill he has mastered over the years, so if he wants to make you beg he is more than capable of such a thing.

He knows your body better than his own. He knows exactly what to do to make you succumb to pleasure. He knows how to drive every thought from your mind until the only word you’re capable of saying is his name.

If he wants to tease, you can guarantee that you will be a dripping mess before he even touches you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Sometimes he quietens himself, an old habit that is hard for him to shake, although you know all the spots that give him the most pleasure, deploying your lips and touch which allows him to relax enough to hardly realise what sounds he’s making. Each moan and curse and cry of your name is a victory that thrums through your body.

Aleksander is a smooth talker and could most definitely make you cum just by sitting you in his lap and murmuring sweet nothings and filthy promises to you. But when he’s inside you, his perfectly crafted compliments and remarks are dialed up to a hundred.

Aleksander doesn’t swear that often, the only exception is when you’re fucking or when he’s trying to rile you up. His Old Ravkan accent thickens whenever he curses, reverting back to the time before he was a nobleman.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He is definitely down to blindfold you and drip candle wax over your naked body, teasing you every time you squirm or jump at the sensations he’s providing. Kissing and biting over your thighs, before he leaves a trail of hot wax there, relishing in the sound of your whimpers.

With the blindfold on, he’s free to watch you as intently as he likes without you getting self conscious, allowing you to focus on nothing but what he’s willing to give you. It also means he can be fully aware of your comfort level, only giving what you are capable of handling.

Bonus Wildcard

Imagine going skinny dipping in the lake with Aleksander one summer night when no one else is around.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Average length with a thick girth. He usually likes to ease you open with his fingers first, typically giving you an orgasm before he actually fucks you, so that you don’t struggle with his size.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Quite high, he always wants you, but he can ignore it very successfully when he wants to. This is a source of frustration for you when you try to coax him away from his work with teasing, as it usually ends up with you feeling more desperate than he does.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not until you fall asleep. He likes to hold you and make sure you’re safe and comfortable before he can allow himself to rest fully. It’s during these moments that he feels most at peace, so he likes soak it up until he sinks into slumber.

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

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

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

#😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#marvelmusing the tenth muse #aleksander morozova #the darkling #general kirigan

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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Nope, not keeping this in the notes. This is canon now! 😂😂😂

I was just thinking of different ways Alina could have tried fighting the nichevo’ya and I’ve decided the most effective way of slowing them down would be to use a dome of light to trap it like when you place a cup over a spider

#shadow babies!#shadow babies in a sunshine play pen 🥹#marvelmusing the tenth muse #shadow and bone headcanons

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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I am… or I was having the worst possible day in the worst possible week and then @becauseicantthinkwritings drops this beautifully lethal thing and suddenly I have a pulse again.

Which will probably be my undoing, given the setting and the incredibly hot club owner ( @marvelmusing this moodboard is perfection btw and I’ll let you know if I end up chewing on a bar stool…)

“You think you might hate him.

You think you might be obsessed with him.”

Oh, I know I’m obsessed with him. Like I told Chels, I’m his good girl, even when I don’t know it.

Vampire Club Owner!Billy Russo

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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😳😳😳

*CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!*

More of the Lieutenant for you 😘 @becauseicantthinkwritings

Website & Instagram • Spotify

#why not real???#why???#please 😭#billy russo #billy russo edit #billy russo imagine #billy russo fantasy #marvelmusing the tenth muse #marvelmusing and becauseicantthink collab and we dedder

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

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I have just now inhaled ALL chapters of this series from Chapter 9 and I have thrown myself back into bed in a screaming, sobbing, laughing heap.

What a twist! What a triumph! What an absolutely perfect ending!!!

@marvelmusing you deserve all the love, all the adulation, my whole heart, other internal organs, and every single one of my furniture! This series was phenomenal, and I feel so incredibly lucky to have taken part in the journey.

I’ll write a proper rec because of course this series deserves more recs! But I just had to already celebrate what @marvelmusing accomplished here — that rare gift of something so special, every fibre of your being knows it. I will cherish the experience of this series for the rest of my life 🥹

P.S. I guess this means the portal isn’t opening again 🥹 I got my wish though for their safe passage and that’s worth everything 🖤🖤🖤

In Another Life

Part Seventeen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: With the remains of the Fold vanquished, the people celebrate. Together, you and Aleksander work to establish peace in Ravka and a safe haven for your Grisha.

Warnings: canon level violence, allusions to sex, (the sex isn’t explicitly described but it’s happening), mentions of canon level treatment of Grisha (experimentation, forced servitude, drugging).

A/N: I’m tearing up writing this, but it’s been almost a full year since I first started writing for Aleksander and I’m so pleased that I’ve managed to actually finish this series. The majority of my motivation has come from all you lovely people who’ve been leaving your wonderful comments and reblogs, so I just want to say a huge thank you to you all and I really hope you like this ending.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Your return to Os Alta is a spectacle.

People line the streets, waving and cheering, throwing paper confetti and flowers over your heads. You smile widely at Aleksander, and you can see in his eyes how much this moment means to him.

Despite the ache in your legs from riding all morning, the crowd’s enthusiasm fuels you, and you all but skip up the front steps of the Grand Palace for a meeting with the king.

Remembering the first time you had walked through these halls, anxiously waiting to meet the king that you were plotting to remove from power, you can’t help but compare it to today.

There’s no anxiety as you step through the door into the main hall, walking side by side with Aleksander, your friends flanking your procession as you stop at the foot of the dais to greet Nikolai with a bow.

There’s no crowd of people surrounding the dais, or lining the carpet that you stand on. It’s just Nikolai, with his guards posted at the doors and a few servants.

He seems happy to see you both, and immediately stands, moving down to stand in front of you both.

“Ravka owes you an unpayable debt.” Nikolai says, before he adds quietly, “As do I.”

You give him a knowing nod and smile.

“I wouldn’t say no to a knighthood.” You remark. The corner of his mouth twitches with a smirk.

“What about a sainthood?” Your eyes widen, and your expression drops in surprise. Nikolai nods between you and Aleksander. “For both of you.”

You can’t speak. A saint? You can’t imagine being worshiped as a saint. Having altars and portraits made for you, and people praying to you. Luckily, Aleksander responds for the two of you. He bows lightly.

“There would be no greater honour, Your Highness.”

In almost a year, you’ve gone from not even existing in this world, to becoming one of their saints.

“We have some other news as well.” Aleksander adds.

“Don’t tell me you finally proposed.” Nikolai remarks with a raised brow, his gaze dropping to your bare hand.

Behind you, Zoya stifles a laugh, and Aleksander’s face has gone strangely blank, as if he’s having trouble processing what Nikolai had just said.

“I’m so tempted to hit you right now.” You tell him with a small laugh.

“Not the face, please.” He teases, and you roll your eyes. Then his expression becomes more genuine. “What is your news?”

Glancing over at Aleksander, you find him already looking at you. When you raise a brow in questioning, he nods over to the window where a rather sad looking flower is struggling to bloom.

“Go on.” He encourages you softly.

Inhaling deeply, you nod, and walk over to towards the plant. Nikolai’s eyes follow you with curiosity.

On the journey through the countryside back to Os Alta, you had begun to test the scope of your new power with help from Aleksander. So far, you’ve been able to revive diseased or injured plants to a more healthy state.

Grisha do not conjure from nothing. A plant has to exist before you can manipulate it. But Aleksander believes that with some practice, you might be able to grow something from the smallest scrap of plant - a leaf or a petal.

Due to his belief and guidance, you feel able to tackle the plant sitting by the window in Nikolai’s throne room.

Living in the dry stuffy air of the Grand Palace has clearly taken a toll on the poor flower.

“Are you fond of this?” You ask Nikolai with a nervous smile as you gesture towards it. He raises a brow in amusement.

“Does it look like I’m fond of it?” He smirks, but then his expression softens slightly. “It’s my mother’s.”

“No pressure then.” You mumble.

Squeezing your dominant hand into a fist, you draw your power into your hands, curling your other hand around your fist. A tingle of excitement runs through you, which you channel into reviving the plant.

The dryness fades from the leaves, replacing it with a healthy green, and the withering buds open, allowing the blooms to flourish.

Nikolai’s eyes widen and you smile proudly, glancing over at Aleksander who regards you with a pleased expression. Your smile widens.

Immediately, Nikolai begins his questions, his mind filled with countless different possibilities of what your power can do. If you weren’t so tired from the journey, and longing to be home at the Little Palace, you would be eager to join in with him as usual. Instead, you shake your head at him.

“Can we do this some other time?”

He halts his words quickly, looking over you for a moment before he realises.

“You must be tired.” He says straightening, and you smile fondly. “And I have celebrations to oversee. I’ll send for you in a few days time.”

He takes your hand in his own.

“My offer still stands.”

You shake your head. Now that you can have Aleksander for eternity, you won’t let Nikolai marry for any reason other than love.

“My answer remains the same.” You tell him, leaning forward to press a kiss against his cheek. “You’re going to make someone very happy one day Nikolai.”

He nods with a small smile.

When you turn around, Zoya regards you with a raised brow, her eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. All the same, your cheeks flush with warmth.

“We’re friends.” You tell her, nodding towards Nikolai.

She smirks.

“I thought you said you’d never replace me.” She teases.

“And you are?” Nikolai remarks smoothly. She straightens, holding her chin high.

“Zoya Nazyalensky, moi tsar.” She bows lightly before she adds possessively. “The best friend.”

Nikolai grins before he teases,

“Self appointed?”

Zoya’s eyes burn, your own eyes widen, and for a moment you fear for Nikolai’s life.

“You’re both my friends.” You say quickly, hoping to avoid an incident. “And I’m sure the two of you can come to some sort of agreement.”

Zoya hums, unimpressed, and turns on her heel as the Grisha are excused from the king’s presence. Nikolai’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches her figure retreat.

A smile touches at your lips as you realise that perhaps Nikolai and Zoya will find a way into one another’s hearts on their own.

Your return to the Little Palace is no less eventful.

The servants prepare all manner of dishes and desserts for dinner, and you try a portion of almost everything. With the combination of travelling and using your power, you’re starving.

Aleksander helps to assemble your plate with spoonfuls of delicious food, and you do the same for him. When he invites you to try something from his plate, you do the same.

Lots of your Grisha are eager to see your new power, and you find that you can change the colours of a flower which impresses a small gaggle of children who all request their favourite colours and clap in delight when you oblige them.

Aleksander remains at your side for the rest of the afternoon, with a smile lingering on his lips as you use your gift.

A few Grisha retrieve their own instruments from their rooms, and begin to play all manner of different tunes from their hometowns. Regardless of whether the songs are familiar, most people join in on the fun, dancing and clapping along.

You and Aleksander watch as the Grisha celebrate, and you already know how much this means to him, to see his people finally able to celebrate something. Hopefully, it won’t be long before they are celebrating again, when the wars are over.

Aleksander has been more forthright with his touch throughout the afternoon. A hand on your back as he guides you through the crowd. His fingers entwined with yours as you sit after dinner. Occasionally he will knock his knee against yours to attract your attention to something.

As the sun begins to set, Aleksander leans closer to you as the two of you stand at one side of the room watching the dancers begin to prance along to a lively tune.

“Shall we retire for the evening?” He murmurs against your temple. Turning your head, you smile up at him, and nod.

Aleksander takes your hand as you weave through the crowd. The people surrounding you must see something in Aleksander’s expression that prevents them from approaching you, and soon you’re stepping out of the Domed Hall into the quiet corridor.

The sounds of people laughing and celebrating are muffled as the two of you begin to retreat.

You can’t hold back a surprised giggle as Aleksander sweeps you up into his arms, hooking one arm under your legs to carry you bridal style through the corridors of the Little Palace.

He walks down a very familiar hallway, and through a well known set of doors, into his bedroom.

Aleksander sets you down at the end of the bed, the same bed that, from the very first night, has always been yours as much as it is his. He takes your face between his hands and kisses you firmly, lips working against yours to steal the air from your lungs. But who needs air when you have Aleksander to sustain you?

“Sasha.” You breathe out in a gasp against his lips.

He pulls away, his eyes blown wide, filled with adoration and love as he stares at you, his beautiful lips parted as he smiles and his dark hair already ruffled by your hands.

He kisses you again, softer this time.

Aleksander’s hands settle at your waist, as you slide your own hands down from his hair, along his shoulders and over his chest. Hooking your fingers under the lapels of his kefta, you attempt to shift the garment from his body.

One of his hands curls around your wrist.

“Are you sure?”

Leaning closer to brush your lips delicately against his own, you smile softly and nod.

“I’m sure.”

Aleksander learns the language of your body in a startlingly short amount of time. He seems to know exactly where to kiss, to touch and tease, to draw out the most exquisite bursts of pleasure that shudder down your spine and linger like phantom touches over your skin.

He’s reverent with you, eyes filled with awe as he studies your every reaction, which brings a full bodied rush of blood to tingle underneath your skin.

There’s a look of pride on his face, every time a gasp or broken moan leaves your lips, and whenever you say his name he all but doubles his efforts to give you every ounce of pleasure that he knows you deserve.

Yet his touch is nothing compared to the sweet words that are murmured against your lips, or accompany the kisses he leaves along your neck.

“That’s it, my dearest love. Let me hear you.”

“Aleksander.” You whine, grasping tightly onto him.

He shushes you tenderly, linking your fingers together with both hands, pressing them against the mattress as he continues to kiss you, his body firm against yours.

“Relax, my love. I have you.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and continues to murmur softly against your hairline.

“Let me take care of you, hm?” He reasons, trailing kisses along your jawline. “You’ve taken such good care of me, given me everything I’ve ever wanted. Let me look after you now.”

The guards posted outside his room learn Aleksander’s true name that night, a fact that you realise the next morning with a flush of embarrassment.

You bring the matter up not long after you wake in Aleksander’s arms. In response, he chuckles and you hide your warming face against his bare chest.

“I’m sorry, Sasha.” You mumble.

He hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his eyes.

“I can think of no better way of them hearing my name, than from your lips.”

He kisses you softly, and any worry you had quickly disappears.

»»---------------------►

A few days later, you receive a summons from Nikolai. That morning, you watch from the head of the bed as Aleksander finishes getting dressed. Much to your confusion, he had told you not to get ready yet.

It’s only when Genya appears at the door, with a clothing bag slung over her arm that you begin to suspect why Aleksander had asked you to wait.

She’s wearing a red kefta, cleaned and pressed to perfection, and you can see her pride as she wears it. With a knowing smirk, she asks if you’d like her to remove some of the marks along your throat, and your cheeks warm as you feel Aleksander’s eyes on you when you refuse her offer.

Then she places the clothing bag across your lap, and you frown at her.

She unzips it.

A black kefta, with green embroidery lining the hems. There’s a few small splashes of colour, soft dots of red, purple and blue - the three Grisha orders - that look like tiny flowers amongst the weaving green.

When you see the kefta, emotion wells in your throat, and can’t stop the flood of tears spilling down your cheeks. Aleksander sits down beside you, curling his arm around your waist, and you press the side of your face against his chest.

You reach for Genya’s hand.

“It’s perfect Genya. You should be very proud.”

She smiles, remarking smugly,

“I know.” But she curls her fingers around yours, squeezing softly with understanding, and you realise the double meaning to her words. I know how you feel.

Now you belong.

»»---------------------►

Nikolai appoints you as his royal advisor, and you journey with him and Aleksander to meet with the delegates from Shu Han when you demand a ceasefire between your countries.

In exchange for some of the lands often sought after during the Border Wars, Shu Han agrees to disband any experimentation facilities and instead turn their Grisha over to Ravka.

With an alliance finally formed between two countries known for their almost endless grievances, Fjerda is intimidated.

You and Aleksander work hard to establish a singular Ravkan army, where each regiment contains both the necessary Grisha and otkazat’sya to function more efficiently than ever before.

With healers allowed to work on former First Army soldiers, casualties are reduced by almost half. Fabrikators work on the army’s weaponry to combat the Fjerdan’s machine guns.

Nikolai’s father, Magnus Opjer, wanting to support his son and return to his former lover, gathers supporters for Ravka from within his own country. Nikolai and Aleksander strategise for long hours, well into the night, to orchestrate a Fjerdan coup.

With your new army pushing the frontlines further into Fjerda, and their own people turning on them, they can only hold out for so long.

The day the Fold was destroyed was named the day of Sankta Alina. The day the land of the Tula Valley was revived was the day of the Starless Saint.

The day Fjerda surrendered, and peace was established in Ravka, will be forever known as your saint’s day. The saint of hope, and plans well made.

In reparations, you demand the outlaw of jurda param, the drug that Fjerdan had used to enslave Grisha into creating their weapons. They free all Grisha held in captivity, and Ravka offers rehabilitation for them all. David creates an antidote that cures the addiction ailing the drugged Grisha.

Aleksander is both heartbroken and furious at the sheer number of Grisha that come seeking aid, especially when he sees the toll the drug has taken on so many women and children.

You’re almost as equally upset, pacing and fuming over the length of Nikolai’s study. He doesn’t say anything, allowing you to stew in your anger, and when Aleksander returns you both sit at Nikolai’s table and discuss the reparations.

Aleksander heeds your warnings. Fear will not last as a deterrent. As much as you want to, you can’t punish Fjerda too harshly. It will only cause a greater divide between your people, and will one day become a problem. A problem that you and Aleksander will have to deal with when it accumulates in a few hundred years.

You want this peace to last.

You want to enjoy your time with Aleksander, and for him to live without looking over his shoulder for once.

»»---------------------►

“You know you’re actually quite good at this.” Nikolai remarks as he spins you.

The ballroom at the Grand Palace is decorated with the blue and yellow Ravkan eagle, as well as the white flags of peace.

“I’m choosing to ignore the surprise in your voice, but I will say I’m quite offended.”

“Vasily said you were a poor dancer.” Your brows lift in surprise.

“That’s why he cancelled the engagement?” Nikolai laughs softly, shaking his head. Your expression shifts from feigning offence to something softer. “How is he doing?”

“Good, from what I hear in my mother’s letters. She’s been staying with him for the last few weeks, along with Magnus.”

You nod. Nikolai’s biological father had been instrumental for your victory against Fjerda, and he seemed to be quite happy living in Ravka, reunited with Nikolai’s mother.

The dance comes to an end, and you feel rather proud that you had seen it through with only a minor incident of fumbling with Nikolai’s hands after a spin. He takes your hand, steering the two of you towards the side of the room where you select a drink from a silver tray.

“You should ask Zoya for a dance.” You tell him, taking a sip from your glass. He raises a brow at you, before he glances over at Zoya.

“Is this some sort of subtle assassination plot?” He remarks, but he hasn’t taken his eyes from her.

She’s wearing a gown of deep summoners’ blue, with sparkling silver threads, and a selection of jewels adorning her hair. She already looks like a queen.

“I’m sure you would enjoy yourself. Trust me.”

Nikolai hums.

“Speaking things into existence again?”

“When aren’t I?”

He takes your hand once again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he nods. You bow with a smile as he steps away, and you watch him as he approaches Zoya.

She narrows her eyes at him, but she doesn’t seem annoyed. For a moment, you think her smirk seems almost fond. Then you’re distracted.

You sense Aleksander appearing beside you long before he makes his presence known.

“You’re scheming.” He accuses in a low voice filled with amusement as he presses a kiss against your temple. You look back at him, your eyes widened innocently.

“Scheming? Me?” A smirk tugs at your lips. “I would never.”

Aleksander hums knowingly and he smiles as his hands settle on your waist.

“Of course not, my love, do forgive me.”

You smile back at him, content to be in his arms for a quiet moment. He sways you both lightly to the sound of the music as another song begins, and you spot Zoya and Nikolai at the centre of the dance floor.

“Have you spoken to Alina?” You ask Aleksander. He raises a brow at you, before his eyes shift to filter over the faces in the crowd.

“I wasn’t aware she was here.” You nod.

“She and Mal have come over from Keramzin. The Duke died a few weeks ago, and left the orphanage to the townspeople. Alina and Mal have decided to run it.”

“That’s good of them.”

“Hopefully now there won’t be as many orphans though.” You reason and Aleksander hums thoughtfully.

“Regardless, there will always be children in need of a home.”

His fingers curl around yours, tilting your hand to show off the gold and black ring that sits shining on your finger.

This weekend, as people begin to recover from the festivities, you and Aleksander plan to pack up your horses and leave. Head towards the Tula Valley until you find the perfect spot. A remote field or a small clearing in the woods, somewhere peaceful where you can create a small garland of flowers to surround you both.

There, you’ll exchange your vows and rings. No priest, no guests. Just the two of you, together.

A blissful, sun soaked day, where he is finally yours, and you are his.

Afterwards, once you return to the capital, you’ll sign all the official papers and your friends will likely want to throw an elaborate party.

An excited smile breaks over your face, and Aleksander brings your hand to his lips to press a kiss against your knuckles, his own smile widening as he whispers,

“I can’t wait to marry you in every century.”

His words make you giddy.

“I’m sorry you had to see me be engaged to two other people before you.” You remark and Aleksander’s eyes sparkle with amusement. Then your expression softens, “But my heart has always been yours.”

His smile is bright as he looks at you.

There’s a lull in the atmosphere, as the music stops and people refresh themselves before the next dance. Aleksander’s hands leave your waist as he moves in stand in front of you. He turns, holding out a hand for you to take.

“Shall we?” He asks, tilting his head towards the dance floor. You nod.

As you’re walking through the crowd with Aleksander, you spot two familiar heartrenders. Fedoyr smiles widely at you both, and Ivan gives you a small nod as they walk by you, arm in arm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Alina tugging playfully on Mal’s hand, urging him towards the dance floor. He’s shaking his head at her, but follows all the same with a smile on his face.

She catches your gaze as the two of them get into position several paces away from you and Aleksander. Your smile softens, and you give her a knowing nod. She smiles back. You’re glad she’s happy.

Nikolai winks when he catches your eye, and you raise your brows questioningly at Zoya when you realise they are having another dance together, to which she shrugs lightly with a smirk.

Finally your eyes meet Aleksander’s, as he settles a hand on your waist to pull you close.

Just like your very first dance together, every moment is perfect. Aleksander leads, and you follow his every step. When it comes to the dips and spins, you trust him to keep you secure in his arms.

When you turn, your back pressing against his chest for several steps, Aleksander’s hands are there, ready and waiting for when you return to face him.

The world around you fades away, even the music carrying you seems less important than being able to stare at the man before you, for as long as you like. Admiring the neat trim of his beard, his thick dark hair, soft lips and adoring eyes.

Aleksander’s eyes are all that matters, as they scour over your face, his smile widening when he observes your expression of happiness and contentment.

The first time he had laid those dark eyes on you, nerves and fear were the only emotions you could process. But despite it all, you had trusted him. You had trusted that he would see your knowledge of the future, and your hope for Ravka, as something valuable.

He had.

Through every terrifying and confusing moment of your journey, he had placed his trust in you to know what was coming. In return, he had been your refuge. Someone to teach you horse riding, to comfort you after nightmares. Someone to scheme and plot and share your thoughts with.

Even now, when you have no idea what the future will hold, Aleksander is still holding you as if you are the most precious thing in the world to him.

»»---------------------►

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

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

#marvelmusing the tenth muse #storytelling supremacy #aaaaaa #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #aleksander kirigan x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozov #the darkling fanfic #the darkling imagine #the darkling au #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone fic rec #the darkling fic rec #fic rec

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

Text

Grace

Ever since @marvelmusing wrote In Another Life, I’ve never wanted to leave. These stories she continues to write about her AU are the reassurance that repeat visitors are welcomed, and permanent residence doesn’t have to be a hopeless dream (yes, I’m still clutching my application for Ravkan citizenship).

When the Reader uses her powers to communicate her love for Aleksander — whether to weave him a flower crown, or revive extinct root crops to make a dish he loved in childhood — there’s a happiness that blooms inside me which has no other equal. The magic is unique to this world that @marvelmusing has created; to bask in it as often as we do is to experience such an outpouring of overwhelming grace.

The generosity of the writing is matched by the sheer joy of the storytelling. This story and the world it belongs to then is a gift not only for this season, but for always 💚🖤💚🖤💚

In Another Life

Christmas Eve Special

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: Its your second Christmas in Ravka, your first with the country at peace and Aleksander as your husband. Together, you have the perfect Christmas Eve.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Aleksander is no where to be found.

It’s Christmas Eve, and soon it will be time for you to move the presents from one of the spare rooms to underneath the Christmas tree in the Domed Hall. Aleksander could never resist spoiling the children who choose to stay at the Little Palace for Christmas. Since he was the reason why there were so many gifts, you weren’t going to start moving them without his help.

The bedroom you share with Aleksander is empty, as is the old war room, and his study. After a brief check in the library, you decide to walk through the corridors beside the children’s dormitories. It’s then that you notice a door left ajar, warm candlelight spilling out of the crack as you nudge it open.

It appears you’ve found your husband.

This particular dormitory is filled with the younger children, between the ages of five and seven. Aleksander sits against the headboard of one of the central beds, a child on each side, accompanied by a tiny one on his lap.

His voice is soft as he reads from the book propped on his childless thigh. Looking at the beds along the wall, you note that majority of the children have already fallen asleep. The boy in his lap, the youngest sun summoner Dimitri, is blinking sleepily as he leans against Aleksander’s chest.

Aleksander smiles at you when he sees you lingering in the doorway, as he turns the final page of the book. Once the story is over, you help him guide the last few sleepy children into their own beds. Tucking in blankets, adjusting cushions, and finally blowing out candles.

It’s only once you retreat into the corridor that Aleksander speaks to you in a low voice as he pulls you close.

“Apologises for keeping you waiting, my love. They wanted a story before bed.”

Pressing a tender kiss to his cheek, you smile softly.

“I love seeing you like this.”

With the Second Army now disbanded, and the war won, Grisha were free to choose whether they would join Ravka’s singular army. The Little Palace was now a safe haven for Grisha who had no family, and a place of learning for all Grisha.

Aleksander was now able to be simply himself. Not the fearsome Black General. Just Aleksander. The man who oversees the Little Palace, who teaches summoning lessons, and plays with the children when they plead with him to join in on their fun.

“Have you eaten?” You ask him as you slide your hand into his.

Tugging him along the corridor, you already know the answer to your question and you begin to lead the two of you towards the kitchens of the Little Palace.

“Not since luncheon.” He says quietly.

As Ravka had finally entered the depth of winter, the afternoons soon turned dark, and with your increasingly busy schedules, you and Aleksander often ended up dining when it was dark outside.

“I have a surprise for you.”

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head in curiosity. Excitement fills you, and you all but skip your way down the corridor.

The fire casts a soft orange glow over the kitchens, as you open the door and step inside. It’s much warmer in the cosy space beside the ovens. The smell of your surprise warming on the stovetop has your mouth watering, and you turn to look at Aleksander.

His brows are furrowed deeply as he tries to decipher the delicious scent filling the room, then recognition sparks in his eyes and he turns to look at you with his lips parted in astonishment.

“Is this?”

Your smile widens and you stop in front of the pot.

“A traditional borscht, made with frost parsnips.”

Aleksander had told you about one of his favourite wintertime meals from his childhood. Unfortunately, the frost parsnips that had been a key ingredient hadn’t existed over the last few centuries.

However, you had been practising using your power to create plants that had become extinct over the years - although you had only been successful with a few flower breeds so far.

He gapes at you, and your face practically glows with excitement and pride.

“How?” He asks.

“I had a little help from David.” You admit, before you begin to explain how you did it. “We managed to figure out that frost parsnips were from the same family as both carrots and parsley.”

Two bowls have already been placed on the countertop, and you scoop out a portion each for you and Aleksander.

“Their closest cousin is a turnip that grows in Fjerda. So, I used that as a starting point. It took me a few tries to get the shape and texture right, but Baghra helped as well.”

He raises a brow at that.

“She did?”

Your smile softens as you hand him a spoon, followed by his bowl of borscht which he accepts eagerly.

“Usually I wouldn’t trust her judgement, but she was very critical of my first attempts, so I think she was telling the truth when she said this one was passable.”

A small laugh leaves Aleksander’s lips, and he brings a spoonful up to his mouth. He blows lightly over the food, before he takes his first mouthful.

You don’t even look at your own bowl, instead focusing on remembering every detail of Aleksander’s reaction.

As soon as the food warms his tongue, his eyes widen in surprise and delight, and he hums with pleasure as he continues to chew on the dish you had created. A wide smile spreads over your lips, and you finally pick up your own bowl and allow yourself to enjoy it.

Aleksander was right, it is delicious, perfect for a cold winter evening.

He serves his own second helping as you’re halfway through your first, and warmth glows in your chest.

Once you’ve both eaten your fill, Aleksander pulls your body against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and your body sings with pride and happiness at the thought of pleasing him.

“You’re incredible.” He tells you.

Leaning back, you tilt your head to look at his face. His eyes are glossy with emotion, but there’s a tender smile on his lips.

“Thank you.”

He kisses your forehead, and your smile widens as his lips trail down your nose. Another kiss is pressed to the tip of your nose, before he nuzzles his face affectionately against yours.

“You mean the world to me.” He whispers against your lips as he leans in to kiss you. Sliding a hand into his hair, you grip the back of his head to pull him closer into the kiss.

You’re both smiling fondly as you break apart.

“Happy Christmas, Sasha.”

He kisses you again - a chaste press of his lips against yours.

“Happy Christmas, my love.”

»»---------------------►

The next morning, you’re awoken by the doors to your bedroom opening. Fedoyr and Genya stand in the open doorway with conspiratorial smiles on their faces, and a swarm of children burst in behind them. They greet you with a jumbled chorus of 'good morning's and 'merry christmas'.

When the curtain is tugged open to allow in the bright morning light, you whine and squeeze your eyes shut with a pout.

“It’s far too early.”

“But it’s Christmas.” They protest.

“Sasha, tell them to wait.” You mumble against the pillows, turning over to reach for your husband’s warmth. Only for your hands to settle over cold sheets.

Lifting your head up, you find Aleksander standing at the foot of the bed, tying up the belt of his softest dressing gown with several excited children bouncing around him.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

His smile is wide, and he looks just as excited as the children.

“But it’s Christmas, my love.”

»»---------------------►

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

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

#marvelmusing the tenth muse #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fic rec #fic rec

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idaoftheburningmind · 2 years ago

Text

Chiaroscuro

“And the tracker?” Aleksander prompts.

“Left just before her third orgasm.”

With all due respect to Mal stans, there really is no better time to go. If the clear utterances of pleasure didn’t send enough of a message, the flood of light that no doubt swept past the thin walls of that room would have burned away any lingering doubt.

There’s nothing crass though about this fic; like anything @marvelmusing touches, it’s a thing of beauty. She takes just enough from the source material to provide context; but the rest is transmuted crystal, its lattices meant to trap the light.

I have loved every version of Aleksander from @marvelmusing , but the “casual dominance” of the one in this story has splintered all my new furniture. How he commands and how the Reader seeks to obey — in the background I hear the crystals tinkle as my onetime dining table is sundered.

When he uses his shadows … there’s a tang of sawdust in the air and in the next moment I’m sifting through rubble.

Light dances over the walls, and the shadows lengthen over the floor…

It could have ended there, but @marvelmusing has Aleksander become gentle, soothing in the aftermath. His touch is delicate now…

I might as well resign myself to this constant state of ruin; what is furniture compared to what Aleksander has planned for when the Reader wakes up.

Longing

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: After the events on the Fold, you hadn’t wanted to run away from Aleksander, but the choice was made for you. Now that he’s found you, the choice is all yours. (Sun Summoner!Reader)

Warnings [18+]: smut, unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, oral (male receiving), virgin!reader, sub!reader, slightly mean dom!Aleksander, degradation, praise kink, semi-public sex kinda? (corporalki in the hallway knows exactly what’s happening, the walls are thin as well), sir kink, smidge of bondage (his shadows), mentions of somnophilia, aftercare.

A/N: I feel like I haven’t written Aleksander smut in forever, so I’m sorry if this isn’t very good.

My Masterlist

You can still feel him.

Sometimes you wake feeling his hands over your face, squeezing at your throat, his lips on yours. Even as you lie beside Mal in whatever run-down room you could afford for the month, before moving onto the next town.

Why won’t you admit that part of you had wanted to belong to Aleksander? Why won’t you admit that a part of you still does? That the collar around your neck feels right, it’s weight now as familiar as your own heartbeat.

The day after your escape on the Fold was a blur, even now you can’t remember it. You hadn’t wanted to leave Ravka, you didn’t want to keep running away. From your destiny, your power, the responsibilities waiting for you.

You didn’t want to keep running away from Aleksander.

But by the time you snapped out of whatever daze had seized you after seeing Aleksander fall, you were on a ship, and there was no sight of land.

Everything had happened so fast.

Aleksander had taken control of your power, using the bond created by the collar to push the Fold forward, cutting Novokribirsk in half.

The gasps of horror from the people on the skiff, and even the screams of Ravkans being torn apart by volcra, had faded into the distance as a thrill ran up your spine.

Using your power had always felt good, Grisha theory states that a Grisha’s power is the most intimate part of themselves, the very depth of their soul.

To have Aleksander reach inside you and coax out such a fearsome display of power, it made you want to drop to your knees by his feet. You wanted him to pet your head as he committed more atrocities with your light.

When he had turned to you, your knees already wavering as your chest heaved heavy breaths, you know he could see it in your eyes.

Perhaps he had been surprised by it, perhaps he would have gripped the front of your kefta and urged you down onto your knees, demanding the submission you already wanted to give him.

But Mal had interrupted, fighting through the guards, shooting at Aleksander, which had broken whatever spell you had been under.

Ivan had stopped Mal from doing any damage, and your heart had ached at the sight of your oldest friend lying choking on his own blood.

You had pleaded with Aleksander, and he had ordered Ivan to relent.

From that moment onwards, things got worse.

A bunch of criminals from Ketterdam, the same ones that had tried to kidnap you, hijacked the skiff. One of them had managed to stab Aleksander through the chest, and some nights you lie awake tracing a line down the same spot over your own chest.

You can still remember the pain that had burst through your body, tears blurring your vision as if the knife had been plunged between your own ribs, causing you to collapse. Luckily, Aleksander had survived, healing himself with merzost.

Still dizzy from the ordeal, you had been too late to stop Mal from barrelling into Aleksander, sending them both overboard. You had rushed to the side, intending on protecting them both from the volcra with your light.

But standing up made you even more dizzy, and by the time you looked over the edge your vision was swimming once again and you fell to the deck of the skiff, unconscious.

When you came to, Mal was holding you in his arms and there was a sickening wrongness itching over your skin. Where was Aleksander?

Your entire body had ached frighteningly, and when you looked down at yourself you had been expecting to find blood given the amount of pain you were in. It felt as though you had been torn apart.

That was when the daze had clouded your mind, making you unable to focus on anything as Mal had bundled a cloak over your shoulders and you had somehow made your way to a ship at Os Kervo.

Despite your longing for Aleksander, and the miserable effects of the wasting sickness, living in Novyi Zem isn’t too bad. It’s warmer than Ravka, and you find comfort in blending in with the crowds.

The boarding house you’ve been staying at over the last week is one of the slightly more comfortable ones. There’s still only one narrow bed, and a single wash basin in the corner of the room. But the mattress isn’t moth eaten, and you haven’t seen any rats yet.

One particularly warm day, you’re walking back to the boarding house with Mal when something feels off. The landlord eyes the two of you even more contemptuously than usual, and you wonder what had put him in such a mood.

It’s once Mal opens the door to your room that you receive your answer.

Aleksander sits in the corner, shrouded in shadows of his own creation, like a king on his throne. His pale, nimble fingers drum casually over the arm of the chair.

Relief fills you. He came for you.

Mal reaches for his gun, but you’re quicker, seizing his wrist and shaking your head in a warning.

“The neighbours will hear a gunshot. We can’t get in trouble.” He holds your gaze for a moment, before he regards Aleksander suspiciously.

“How did you find us?” Mal snaps.

His anger is justified, all his cautiousness, telling you not to summon, hiding your collar, and look how it had paid off.

“You leave a rather expensive trail.” Aleksander remarks smoothly.

From his hand, a collection of golden hair pins scatter over the bedside table. Your idea had worked, Aleksander had found you. His eyes meet yours, and a shiver rolls through you.

Aleksander stands from the chair, stepping into the evening light as it passes through the dirty windows. A sharp inhale shudders in your throat, your eyes widening as you look over his face. Scars. Large black scars over his face.

“What happened?” You ask him, your voice a tiny whisper.

Aleksander’s brow lifts slightly.

“Your precious tracker didn’t tell you?” He smooths his hand over his face, tracing the edge of the largest scar. “A gift I earned on the Fold.” His eyes darken suddenly. “Amongst other things.”

Mal hadn’t told you anything about that day. He always went silent or moody whenever you mentioned Aleksander.

The man in question steps closer, and Mal tenses beside you, whether that be poised to attack or to flee you’re not sure. But you simply wait for Aleksander to come to you.

“How are you finding life in hiding?”

You don’t answer, knowing he will see the truth in your eyes no matter what you tell him.

He reaches out, tugging gently at one end of the scarf curled around your neck. Slowly, he urges it to come loose, revealing the bone collar he had placed there.

The scarf drops to the floor.

“It doesn’t suit you.”

“I actually quite like the scarf.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, ever so slightly, and something burns bright in his eyes.

His fingers curl around your collar, and a full body shudder takes hold of you as his amplification reaches deep down to the core of your being. For a second your eyes glaze over, and every inch of your body tingles with power and pleasure.

Then Mal steps forward.

“Get off her.”

Aleksander glances over at him, an unimpressed expression filling his features.

“I don’t think she will enjoy that.”

Nevertheless Aleksander releases you, a smirk on his lips as you struggle to suppress a whimper at the loss of contact.

Shaking your head slightly, you force yourself to focus.

“What do you want?” You ask him, watching as he sits back down in the chair.

“The room across the hall has been booked. The tracker stays there all night. You will stay with me.”

“And if I say no?” Mal challenges him.

Aleksander regards him with a bored expression.

“Ivan is posted in the hallway. The rest of my Grisha are in the boarding house across the street.” He tilts his head, smugness in his eyes as he continues, “Perhaps you should consider that before you make any rash decisions. Regardless of how characteristic it would be of you.”

Mal’s jaw tenses.

“And in the morning?” You ask. He surveys you for a long moment, amusement touching his features, as if you had just said something funny.

“I have one condition, which I will discuss with you tonight. If you fulfil it, I will allow you both to leave unharmed.”

Mal doesn’t look pleased. He shakes his head, but you turn to him.

“Please Mal. It’s just one night.”

“A lot can happen in a night.” He says tersely, staring over your shoulder at Aleksander.

“I’ll be fine.”

Mal finally looks at you. Then he sighs.

“Fine.”

He stares at Aleksander once again, before he opens the door and leaves. You hear his footsteps move across the hall, and the door to his room opening and closing.

Then silence.

You’re alone with Aleksander, for the first time since before you crossed the Fold. Despite your attempt at being brave, your voice wavers as you ask him,

“What’s your condition?”

He rests his chin in his hand, watching you intently.

“If you can walk down the stairs tomorrow morning, by yourself, after I’m finished with you tonight, then you are free to move on your way, tracker in tow.”

Whilst he hasn’t said it explicitly, you know exactly what he means to do that would prevent you from walking tomorrow. Cheeks burning, you still feel the need to fill the silence with a stammered question.

“After you’re finished with me?” The heated look in his eyes intensifies, and your gaze drops to the floor. “I’ve never done anything like this before…”

“Look at me.” He commands, and your eyes snap to his immediately. “Do you want to?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

“Come here.”

He guides you easily, large palms manoeuvring your body into whatever position he desires. He sets you in his lap, one of his thighs bracketed by yours.

Ever since his fingers had curled around the collar, your entire body has felt sensitive. Now that you can feel the warmth of his solid thigh against your aching core, you can’t prevent the whimper from escaping your throat.

“Go on then.” He urges you, a hand pressing at the small of your back. His eyes remain on yours as he leans back in the chair, and you feel yourself clench at his casual dominance. You’ve heard about what he wants you to do, but you’ve never done it before.

Experimentally, you rock your hips forward. A small hum warms your throat as a spark of pleasure tingles in your belly. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself some pleasure.

You hadn’t touched yourself when you were in the First Army, too self conscious that someone else in the tent would catch you. It was only once you arrived at the Little Palace, and had your own room, that you felt able to enjoy such a luxury.

Aleksander had been a prominent feature of your fantasies when you had figured out what you liked. Silk sheets, your bare body flushed as you had climaxed around your fingers, shaking as you imagined Aleksander being the one touching you.

It was a far cry from this moment.

From the jerky motion of your hips as you whine pathetically, fully clothed and flushed with embarrassment. Aleksander studies your face with an intense expression, which has warmth prickling over your skin.

He appears to take some pity on you, and begins to direct your hips with a firm hand curled around your hip. You inhale sharply as the fabric of your slicked panties catches against your clit, and your fingers tighten their hold on his jacket.

“Oh you poor thing.” He coos, and your cheeks burn at the humiliation. “That boy hasn’t been taking care of you, has he?”

When you don’t respond, Aleksander grips a fistful of your hair in his hand and repeats sternly,

“Has he?”

You whimper.

“No. He hasn’t.” He tightens his grip and you’re quick to correct yourself, “No, he hasn’t, sir.”

He hums, and loosens his hold on your hair, sliding his fingers over your scalp and you shudder.

Gasps and whimpers fall from your lips as you slip away from reality, lost to the motion of your hips and the tingle of pain-pleasure caused by the rough fabric against your clit. You feel your cunt clench desperately around nothing, and you choke down a cry.

“That’s it, milaya.” He encourages you, and emotion wells in your chest as he continues, “Keep going. Such a needy little thing.”

The pleasure that sweeps through you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It runs through the entirety of your body, knocking a gasp from your lungs as you climax.

Whilst it’s delightful, you can’t help but whine at how empty you are, your cunt gripping on nothing.

Breathing shakily, you drop your forehead down against his shoulder. Aleksander runs his hands over your thighs.

“Now what do you say?” He prompts.

“Thank you, sir.” He presses a kiss to the side of your face, and warmth blooms in your chest.

“Good girl. Now get on your knees.”

You blink at him for a moment. Then obey, sliding from his lap, down between his legs to kneel at his feet. He looks down at you, and you’ve never felt smaller or more at home.

“Can you undo my trousers? Or will that be too complicated for you?” He asks with a dark smile that has your cheeks flushing once again.

“I can do it, sir.”

He nods, giving a silent order which you obey.

His cock all but bursts free from the confines of his boxers, and despite your nerves at the size of him you feel the urge to take him into your mouth. He pets the back of your head.

“That’s it, relax that little jaw of yours and let me into your mouth.”

Your cunt tingles with warmth at his words, and you’re encouraged to take his cock between your lips. Surprisingly, he allows you to retreat once you begin to gag.

Blinking up at him from under your lashes, you find him already staring down at you, studying your every reaction. It’s almost as if he isn’t expecting pleasure from your efforts, only entertainment as you struggle.

Brows furrowing with determination, you attempt to take more of him into your mouth. He appears amused by your response, breathing out a small laugh as he lets his head rest against the back of the chair comfortably.

You try again, and again.

The weight of him on your tongue has a buzz settle pleasantly over your body. Aleksander smiles every time you jerk your head back, choking and gasping with tears in your eyes.

He strokes your flushed cheeks as more tears of frustration well in your eyes, and he chuckles at your reaction.

“You need to start small, milaya.” He informs you condescendingly as he grips the back of your head, urging you back down. “Suck on the tip.”

You do as he says, your mouth already feeling full from just the beginning of his cock. His fingers squeeze at the back of your neck, encouraging you to continue suckling.

Then he presses you closer, slowly, so you don’t even notice at first, until you feel his cock nudge against the back of your throat.

When he feels your throat tighten, he groans softly and a thrill runs through you. More tears flood down your cheeks, and you’re about to fight against his hold.

“Breathe through your nose.”

Your breaths are stilted, but you soon manage to do as he says. He groans a little louder, and you moan softly. His fingers flex and he releases you. A pleasure filled hum slips from his throat as his cock slides between your lips.

He guides your head back, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes.

Then he issues his next order.

“Strip.”

As you stand on wobbling legs, you take off your jacket, dropping it to the floor to join the scarf he had removed from you. With shaking hands, you undo the buttons on your shirt, and slide down your trousers.

Aleksander raises a brow when you hesitate, standing in front of him in only your underwear.

Once you’re completely bare, you can’t help but fiddle with your fingers. Life on the run had meant you hadn’t had the time to properly take care of your body.

Part of you wishes your first time with him had been when you were at the Little Palace. Where you had been pampered and prettied, with sweet smelling lotions and perfectly groomed hair.

“Turn for me. Slowly.” He instructs you.

You do as he says.

Once you’re facing him again, his eyes are hungry but he sighs,

“You haven’t been summoning, have you?”

You shake your head, guilt settling in your stomach. It’s not that you hadn’t wanted to. He holds your gaze for a long moment.

“Lie on the bed.”

Once again, you do as he says. Your feet skim the floor as you dangle your legs over the edge of the bed. Aleksander stands between your legs, towering over you as he slides his fingers through your soaked folds.

A loud moan is torn from your lips, and you throw your head back against the bedcovers, speeding your legs wider for him. His motions are firm and certain as he presses against your entrance, tracing a circle around your clenching hole.

“Summon, right now.” He demands.

You blink up at him.

“Aleksan-”

His other hand curls around your throat, his fingers pressing down on your clit.

“Call the sun, or I will do it for you.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his threat, body already yearning for the feeling of his power claiming yours. He breathes out a harsh laugh, already reading your desire.

“Is that what you want? You want me to do it for you?” He mocks. “Poor little girl who can’t summon on her own.”

Shameful arousal pools in your stomach, dropping down to flood between your legs where Aleksander slips a finger inside you.

“One of the first things you asked of me, was to give your power to someone who could use it. Don’t you still want that?”

You nod as much as you’re able to with his hand around your throat.

“Please.” You beg. “Please take it away. Take it all away. Want you in control, please.”

His thumb swipes over your clit, gathering the sticky wetness that’s soaking his fingers and using to bring you closer to your peak.

You topple over the edge, clenching hard around his finger as light floods through the room, shimmering from your skin. Heart hammering in your chest, you stare up at the ceiling, watching the light move over the uneven boards of wood above you.

He continues to stroke slowly through your folds as you come down from your high. When your breathing has evened out again, his finger circles your clit, and you whimper at the overstimulation.

Lifting your head up, you stare wide eyed at him as he flattens his palm over your stomach, keeping you in place as he speeds up.

“I can’t.” You whisper, shaking your head.

Gasps fall from your lips, louder and louder as you cry out,

“Please.”

“You take everything I give you.” He demands, his motions unwavering against your clit, and tears well in your eyes. “And you will be grateful for it.”

When you attempt to kick your legs in an effort to process the sensations flooding through you, your motions are halted. Aleksander’s shadows hold you tightly in place, spreading your legs wide, making you his for the taking.

At the sight of his power, you lose yourself completely. A scream falls from your lips as you clench around nothing, and Aleksander grins seeing you collapse boneless beneath him.

He shoves trousers and boxers down slightly, allowing them to hang at his mid thigh. He’s still wearing his shirt and jacket. You want to protest against this, after all, you’re completely bare, but your mouth doesn’t cooperate.

Despite how he had already loosened you up, and the amount of slick coating your cunt, the stretch of his cock pushing into you still burns, sending shockwaves through your body. As your body tightens in discomfort, Aleksander grips onto the collar.

Your vision swims and you close your eyes tightly as you feel him reach for your power, fingers tracing over the strings of your very soul, fine tuning them into whatever he wants.

The moment he fills you completely, you’re shaking and digging your nails into his clothes, your head thrown back as you convulse.

Aleksander laughs, realising you had just experienced a small climax already. If your eyes were open, you would see how tense his jaw was as he laughed. He wasn’t immune to the feeling of you clenching rapidly around his cock.

He breathes through gritted teeth as he slides out of you, only to push back in with a determined roll of his hips. The two of you moan in tandem, as he settles into a rhythm that has your toes curling.

His shadows wrap tighter around your thighs, holding you down against the mattress as he thrusts into your dripping cunt. Your fingers grasp at the sheets beneath you, occasionally fisting at his clothes as you writhe with pleasure.

Your gasps are increasing, a constant stream of moans making your throat hoarse as you throw your head back. Light dances over the walls, and the shadows lengthen over the floor.

Aleksander circles his thumb over your overstimulated clit, and the world goes white as you squeeze your eyes shut. His control of the shadows slips, and you’re able to wrap your legs weakly around his waist in an attempt to keep him close.

He groans lowly, face pressed into the crook of your neck as he spills inside you, and you breathe a sigh filled with elation. Pleasure clouds your vision, and every nerve in your body tingles.

When he pulls his softened cock out, you whimper and try to hold onto him. He breathes out a small laugh, but it seems more affectionate than mocking - though that could be the earth-shattering climax impairing your judgement.

Eyes still closed, you’re aware of a warm cloth being placed between your thighs, cleaning the mess away. His finger slides into you, pushing his spend back inside you. When you whine at the intrusion, he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

The world is fuzzy as he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up.

“Come now, milaya. Let’s get you sat up. Are you hungry?”

Your eyes are barely open, but you nod enthusiastically. Whether it’s because you had finally summoned, or due to the vigorous exercise you had been put through, you’re not sure. But you’re starving.

Once you’re slumped against the pillows in an upright position, Aleksander sets down a tray filled with food. There’s bread, some cheeses, slices of meat, and fruits. You eat eagerly from Aleksander’s hand, limbs too heavy to do it yourself.

You know for a fact that this food isn’t from the boarding house. Even with your lack of appetite over the last few months, you know that the food here isn’t good.

Everything Aleksander offers you is delicious. Fresh and tasty. He cuts the fruit into bite sized pieces with a small knife, before he feeds them to you. The juice is sweet and refreshing.

He fills a glass with a soft wine, and you drink it quickly, eager for something to ease the hoarseness of your throat.

His touch is delicate now. A reassuring rub over your aching thighs; a thumb brushing a crumb from your lips; a hand resting on your stomach once you’ve finished eating.

He moves the tray away, pulling the covers over your body and encouraging you to sink back into the pillows that somehow smell like him.

It’s only as you’re slipping off to sleep that you realise the sheets aren’t the itchy cream ones you had fallen asleep on yesterday. They were black, a soft luxurious fabric that you can only assume usually resides on Aleksander’s own mattress.

A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine yourself back home at the Little Palace, safe in Aleksander’s arms.

Once you’re fully asleep, there’s a quiet knock at the door. Aleksander calls out in a low voice,

“Come in, Ivan.”

The heartrender steps into the room, closing the door behind him. He surveys your sleeping form for a brief moment, before he looks at his General.

Aleksander brushes a stray hair from your face, as he looks expectantly over at Ivan.

“The Drüskelle following her have been dealt with.” Ivan informs him.

“And the tracker?” Aleksander prompts.

“Left just before her third orgasm.”

He nods in acknowledgement, a look of pride on his face as he stares down at you, his hand sinking into your hair to massage your scalp.

Under his ministrations, you go even more pliant, slipping further into a deep sleep.

He had made you climax five times, ensured that you were well fed, and had drank a little wine. It’s likely you’ll be asleep until late afternoon tomorrow. By then the tracker will be long gone.

When you do wake it’ll be with Aleksander’s head between your thighs, tongue easing it’s way into your sore cunt to lick your slick directly from the source.

He can hardly wait, but he is a patient man, and now he has all the time in the world to enjoy you. Now that you’re his.

»»---------------------►

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

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#marvelmusing the tenth muse #furniture I don’t know them #cronch cronch #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #the darkling fanfic #the darkling imagine #shadow and bone fic rec

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