21 /// just call me lass /// audhd so please communicate if any issues /// writer and future neurosurgeon /// Asks: Open /// Requests: Closed (for now)
Welcome to the Garden. You can call me Lass. I'd love to chat, and requests are open. Though, keep in mind, I'm only one person and I'm currently working on other stories as well as going through school. Writing takes time.
My Kofi
Guidlines
DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT feed ANY of my works to AI. AI is bullshit, and I don't want it anywhere near my works.
I do not write smut. This may change in the future, but for now, full on sex scenes and this like that won't be written on my blog. I will write mature scenes, but I just don't have the confidence for smut; it's not up my alley.
CW! female reader, chubby/plus-sized reader!, self-indulgent post, hurt-comfort, body image issues, suggestive content, body worship (Rafayel), mentions of committing murder (Sylus), maybe medical inaccuracies (Zayne), fluff galore, drabbles for each, mentions of stretchmarks (zayne & rafayel), fatshaming (Xavier & Sylus), pre-boom (Caleb), implications of an eating disorder (Caleb)
Summary! You've always felt bad about your body, in fact, hated it more than anything. How could you ever be good enough for him? You didn't need to ask or worry about any of that. He loved you just as you are, and will prove that to you no matter what.
XAVIER
"You need to lose some weight" had always been something you'd heard growing up. Then the societal standards of how you should look made you look at yourself, your body, in a negative light.
Spiraled this time because of a comment when you and Xavier went out for a date. For once, you felt like dressing in something that showed off your body.
Just when Xavier left to use the bathroom, you were subjected to those familiar words.
"You need to lose some weight, Missy. Especially for an outfit like that. You shouldn't even be wearing that..." You started to tune them out, or, well, trying to. Already found yourself trying to cover up your body with your arms. The person only found themselves trying to poke further.
Even mentioning Xavier.
"Looking like this? Don't you think he deserves someone skinnier?"
Tears pricked your eyes dangerously. You needed to hide it from Xavier. From not just worrying him, but also for the life of this person, despite the cruel words.
"Just leave me alone...." They eventually would. Found yourself in the corner waiting for Xavier. You felt so uncomfortable now. So conscious of how each curve and pudginess poked out.
What on earth made you so attractive to the man you called your boyfriend? The love your life?
When Xavier did come back, you asked him for the hoodie he wore.
"I'm just cold." It was spring, so it wasn't so strange that you asked. Like a bright puppy, Xavier gladly gave you his hoodie to wear. Although he was a little concerned watching you completely covering up the outfit you so proudly showed him.
He didn't want to believe you felt some bad feelings about your body.
For the entirety of the date you kept the hoodie on, even if the sun was out and making you feel warm.
Even if you were sweaty or hot you just kept the hoodie on to hide your body from the world. Even from Xavier. How could he love you when you looked like this?
He deserved better than you.
"Starlight, aren't you hot?"
"Xavi, you asked me that already!"
The heat was getting to you. The frown on Xavier's face made you sure your flock was falling.
Xavier softly sighed and grabbed your hand. "Hey, did something happen?"
He perked his head watching your expression turn into something he could only describe as panic.
"No."
"Starlight, i know when your lying."
Xavier smiled softly. His thumb caressed your knuckles gently.
"We can talk about it when we get home."
"Huh?" He dropped it right then, but then again you'd be alone with him. Face with taking off the hoodie in front of him to reveal a body you were less than happy with.
"Okay, sounds good."
You acted as if Xavier couldn't see the obvious strain in both your voice but also the tension in your entire body.
When you did get home it would be an understatement to say walked to the bathroom. No, you ran to it.
Xavier didn't say a thing and just followed you. Knocking on the door lightly.
"Starlight," he paused and sighing. "Come out of there. I want to see you."
From behind the door you pulled at the hoodie to reveal the outfit underneath. Just from sitting the pudginess poking out more than ever. Your mouth trembled in response.
"No! I can't." You broke easily for him. You could accept that he knew you weren't feeling okay.
"Can you tell me why?" Xavier's voice was softer than ever. No doubt his hand on the door awaiting for you to unlock the door so he could come in.
"Y'know," Xavier's voice made you know he was smiling. "I thought you were very pretty today. You looked so happy but when I got back from the bathroom you were upset."
He was frowning again. "Let me in please. To see you."
How could you refuse him when he asked like that? Curse his bunny-looking face.
Opening the door with the hoodie zipper up again. Xavier's face flickered with emotion.
"I-" Before you could utter another word Xavier's arms were around you with a firm grip. Speechless at his actions and even sooner his words.
"Your the most beautiful thing on this planet, no in this entire universe you are the most beautiful thing to ever exist."
"You can't possibly me that. Look at me-"
"I am looking." His fingers moved to the zipper and tugged it down. You made no movement to stop him. "And all I see is the darling Starlight that I love."
You broke down in tears, and he allowed you to settle your face inside his chest. Xavier held you dearly, like fragile glass, like you would go away.
"Don't listen to anyone else's opinions, not even mine. You're the most beautiful creature in this universe, and never forget that."
ZAYNE
It wasn't strange for Zayne to see you naked, not only your boyfriend but also your doctor.
Your own shame over your body persisted despite his words about how he looked was completely fine, but for you, it never would be.
Especially, when before sex, which you two planned tonight, you felt you couldn't now. Not with the new mark on your body that ruined everything. Making you feel more ugly than you already are.
A body part with a long stretch of skin that was stretched.
It looked utterly disgusting in your eyes.
The lingerie you chose to wear tonight feels so ugly to wear now. Soiled by your own body.
Tears were forming in your eyes, covering your mouth at the feeling in your throat, and burning in your eyes. Everything was blurry as you sat on the bathroom floor, crying silently.
Trying so hard to hide your cries from Zayne.
He didn't need to worry. This was on you, and he didn't deserve to see you when you looked like this. Zayne deserved better than this.
"Darling, are you alright? You've been in there for quite a while." Zayne knocked on the door gently. Even from behind the door, he could hear the way your voice hitched.
"May I come in?"
There was no point in keeping him out. He'd see your body anyway, no matter the circumstance. He's a doctor, he'd have to. You just let out a soft okay, stepping out of the way so he could enter the bathroom.
The door opened to reveal Zayne with worry evident in his eyes. He surveyed you and how you stood in the corner. His eyes tightened at the sight.
Your hands moved to hide the stretch mark on your body. Tears were brimming in your eyes and were threatening to spill out.
Nothing needed to be said for Zayne to get what was happening.
"Darling, come here." He opened a hand to you.
Rejection came with the swerve of your head. Your face deepened with disgust towards yourself. Such filth shouldn't be touched by someone so beautiful and graceful.
Zayne took a step forward. You let him and didn't avoid him.
Unexpectedly, he lowered himself onto his knees.
"Zayne, what are you doing? Get up!" Frantically, you pulled at his forearm, but he stood still like a marble statue.
"I will not. Not before I cherish and show just how much I love you, all of you." His arm wrapped around your thighs with firm fingers around flesh. His thumb was caressing the stretch mark so gently and sweetly.
Your voice hitched with an oncoming sob. "Zayne, stop. Please."
"That is one request I'll have to deny you, my dear." His cheek against your thigh, and once again, tracing the stretch mark with his finger.
"This is normal. You know that, don't you?" He spoke methodically. Zayne kept his grip and traced your skin. "These marks are normal, and to me they are the most gorgeous thing in the world to me."
Looking up at you with complete adortion in his eyes. A soft smile upon his lips, kissing your naked hipbone so sweetly, treating you like you were glass. Something beautiful to be taken care of.
"No matter how many times you forget that I'll remind you over and over."
Tears dropped from your eyes. Arms wrapped around his neck as Zayne stood up to embrace you into his arms. Kissing your forehead and stroking your back.
RAFAYEL
"Cutie! Are you done?" Rafayel called out loudly from his studio. Sounds of things being moved around in the studio for you to model for him.
He was the artist, and you were his muse, his inspiration.
In moments like this, you could never understand how on earth you could be his muse, his inspiration. Not when you looked like...well, you.
Rafayel had given you a form-fitting dress that was flowy and beautiful. Silky pink looked nice against your skin tone. It was a pretty dress. It's just that to you, it looked wrong on you.
You knew how Rafayel could be.
His eyes were smart in catching what he found was beautiful. In part, you felt his eyes may be lying to him when he looked at you. What about you was so beautiful to him? Surely those eyes of his were lying.
"Cutie?" His voice was more confused. His hand knocked against the door softly. "Does the dress not fit?"
"No," Your voice was shaky. "It fits fine."
Maybe too well.
To well that every insecurity was peaking out.
It was silent for a moment before a soft noise came closer to the bathroom door. "Cutie, what's wrong?"
Rafayel knocked on the door with his voice uncharacteristically soft and worried. It sounded off, and you didn't like it one bit.
"It's nothing.." Your eyes were beginning to well up with tears. You settled on the floor, holding the curves that showed through the silky dress.
"Baby, Cutie, come on, let me in." His voice was too soft for you.
You couldn't leave him out there when he sounded like that. Rafayel was too sweet for you to do that to him. So you unlocked the door hearing it click open. Sitting on the toilet lid with a somber expression.
Rafayel's expressed was down, but you saw how his eyes sparkled when finally laying eyes on you,
"Absolutely glamorous."
"Don't lie." Bitterly, you grumbled.
A loud noise followed; Rafayel falling to his knees and crawling to you. Almost immediately your face erupted with heat.
"What are you doing?!" You exclaimed as his fingers pushed onto your plush thighs and gripping. Kissing both of your knees sweetly.
"Worshipping my reason, my beautiful muse...and it's quite insulting you'd think I'd lie about finding you beautiful." Rafayel's cheek rubbed against your knee, pressing another kiss to it. "Utterly insulting, Cutie."
Your lips wobbled in response to his words.
"This part, and this..." Rafayel pointed to every curve and body part. On his knees giving a kiss to each part of naked skin. His hands curved over every part that was covered by silk.
"Look at me cutie."
Nervously you raised your head eyes meeting his.
"Does it look like I would ever lie to you, Cutie." In between your legs looking up at you like a goddess statue. "Never in my life would I ever do that to you."
"The eyes of Lemuria will always be able to see beauty, and one of the most beautiful things in the world is right in front of me."
Tears bursted out from your eyes. Rafayel kissed them away holding you in his lap on the bathroom floor. In that silk dress feeling his hands move throughout your body and up it.
Clinging to him and listening to his artistic words that only aimed to praise you like you were pretty pearls.
You've never felt so very loved in your life.
SYLUS
At an auction with him always brought the anxieties to you, always going down to your stomach and up to your throat.
If Sylus saw it he never mentioned it.
You knew he knew. In little ways he comforted you, like gripping your waist, or linking your fingers. A soft kiss to your forehead or rubbing small circles into your back.
It felt too good for you, as in Sylus was too good for you. Like a man like Sylus deserved someone that wasn't, well, you.
You felt like all eyes were on you.
"I'll be back, Kitten. This will just be a moment." Sylus patted your head softly before moving to a meeting room with other high standing officials, especially those who lived in the 109 Zone.
You were left alone by yourself in a crowd of people.
Sitting alone awaiting for him as to not feeling comfortable amongst these people who were way more confident, and in your words, more desirable than you.
"Are you sure you belong here?" A woman's voice spoke with inquiry and malice. A true look for a model she was. You weren't, because of course you weren't.
You didn't say a word. In your hand was Sylus's card and you just kept it to your person.
"I don't want to be rude, but I think that dress doesn't fit you. In fact, it's really fitted for someone with your...uh, stature."
You wish you could be a duck. A duck that lets things slip off your back, but it seems that won't happen, and it won't ever happen. You simply ignored her.
"Hey, listen when I'm talking to you." Your arm was pulled from the chair. A sound echoed in the darkness, but no one seemed to notice or care for the disturbance.
"Leave me alone!" You whisked her hand off your arm. The woman scoffed and pinched you. Glaring hard at the woman, just as she went grab a hold of your waist. Instincts called; hand going to the slit in your dress to acquire you gun.
Straight into her face.
"Get the hell away from me."
She listened, disturbance on her face, but none of that erased the swelling of anxiety and hurt in your tummy. Words running through your head wildly.
Luckily for you there was an outside area away from everyone. There was very few people out there, just two people very spaced out for you talking to one another. They made no distinction that they knew you were there.
You were left to sit on a marble bench, watching how your stomach was pushed out as you sat. Your tummy hurts at the sight. Hand still on that black card, shaking still.
Then you heard your phone ring. Shuffling out of your bag, you found Sylus texting you to ask where you were. You quickly texted him and went back to brooding.
It was a few more moments before hearing his heavy footsteps on the grass. You avoided eye contact with him finding the grass somehow more interesting.
"Sweetie," His voice deep and velvety, like it always is, "It's rather cold out here."
His jacket is on your shoulders. Sylus sat with you, and his gaze caught your arm. It looked swollen. He took hold of it gently.
"What happened, my sweetness?"
Leveling your gaze had told him it all. The way you positioned your body, angling it so he couldn't see how your body rolled. Sylus softly sighed, eyes hardened.
"Would you like me to get rid of the person who both hurt your skin, but also your heart? Putting all those thoughts into that pretty brain of yours." Sylus whispered into your ear. Thumb caressed the swollen skin gently, pressing a soft kiss to it.
"No, Sylus, you don't need to do that!"
"Hm, I ask you why, sweetie, especially when you look so distressed. No such thoughts about your person should wake in your mind." Right then, you found yourself in his lap. A small squeak erupted from your throat, seeing how his hands drifted across your waist and settling his open palms on your tummy.
Flushed hot on your cheeks. Sylus nuzzled his head into the back of your neck.
"Sweetie, do let me show you how much those people's words do not matter."
"Sylus, please, my body isn't-"
"Do listen to me. I'm a man who knows what he wants, and it's you that I want, Sweetie."
Tears erupted from your eyes. Body turned around to hug his neck. His warm hands rubbing up the skirt of your dress. A small noise came from your throat.
"Sylus, we're in public."
"Shush, sweetness. Let the world examine my choice and see the gem that I see."
Dear lord, you've felt loved in his arms. Crimson eyes watching everything look upon you and him. His glare was looking for the people who had scornful looks at you, but shied away because no one would dare to defy him.
CALEB
You've watched Caleb grow up into the man he is today. It made sense that Caleb was surrounded with people who were just as hot, and just as worthy as him. To have him that is.
You on the other hand, in your opinion, didn't deserve to be with Caleb.
With the way your body has developed you didn't feel worthy of a beauty that was Caleb. It didn't help that Caleb didn't waste his talent of cooking, because he loved doing so for you.
His very way of life, and that was taking care of you.
With him away, you were able to enact a way to make yourself worthy of him. However, you still ached for his cooking, him taking care of you. Whether or not you'd like to deny it, you enjoyed his touch and care.
And it being Caleb he always knew.
Grandma Josephine probably told him. She would see how you avoided food. Overworking yourself. Heart always in the possibility of overriding itself because of your carelessness.
Being Caleb he would always confront you with it.
"Pips, what's going on with you?"
His voice is soft when coming into your room. Place devoid of a mess, and you are sitting on the floor looking drained. You opened your mouth but Caleb beat you to saying anything.
"Don't try to hide from me, Pops. C'mon, tell me what's wrong." He sat with you on the floor. His eyes were full of worry. Large hand taking yours gently and holding it.
You couldn't hide anything from him, and most likely, Caleb wouldn't let this one go.
"Granny says you aren't eating. You need to eat Pips." His eyes sparkled in a way that told you he had an idea. Since growing and maturing into a young woman you've gained a certain perception of your body.
Even if you didn't say anything it didn't mean that Caleb didn't know.
Because of course he did.
You pulled your knees up and glared at the floor. "My body...it isn't pretty enough..." For you.
Caleb sighed before turning to his side and pulling you into him. Your breath hitched in response. Holding on to his clothes as his hands rubbed your shoulders, drawing small circles into your back.
"Baby," You shivered at that name. How long had it been since you two came to the conclusion of these feelings? How long would you two ignore them? "Don't say things like that."
His fingers overlapped with yours. The palms of his fingers gently pressed into your skin.
"Look at me."
You looked at him with hesitation. Caleb made no qualms about it and just went on the merry way of holding you. Thank the gods the door was closed. Who knows what Josephine would say with him holding you like this.
"Caleb, what are you doing?"
"Holding you."
"Hm."
You hummed to yourself. Indulging in his beloved touch like a puppy wanting to be noticed by its new owner. Hoping they are it's only owner.
"You're pretty, baby. So very pretty to me, Baby. It kills me that you think you aren't pretty. Can I show that you are?"
You nodded; you never could say no to him when he looked at you like that. You acted like a puppy. Right now, his eyes were literal puppy eyes. Like an anaconda he gripped tight onto you. His hands curving down every curve.
"I love touching you, Pips. Always."
You liked it when he touched you, too. But you'd never admit now, at least not yet.
"No matter where or who I'll always go for you. No matter what you look like, Pips. So please, eat."
< Intro | Chapter 1
Self aware Sylus x gn reader, hurt/comfort
CW: vomit, derealization, general sickness
wc: 1.7k
You slowly stir back into consciousness, a gooey exhaustion clinging to your entire body and weighing you down uncomfortably. A wave of motion sickness flows through you as you attempt to sit up, having to try multiple times in order to get your aching muscles to cooperate.
Your vision spins as you try to reorient yourself. Everything feels just slightly wrong, like a space you were once familiar with has been tampered with, all your belongings moved an inch out of place, causing your body's instinctual memory to falter and stumble over what once felt natural.
But, by far, the greatest discomfort comes from your heart. It aches, a deep, pulsing pain; and it thumps harder than it ever has in your life. Each beat jostles your whole body, and you slump over, your hands clasped over your chest as you tremble.
After a couple of deep breaths to hold the nausea at bay and attempt to calm yourself, you sit upright again, and your vision clears enough to be able to make out your surroundings.
You're in a large, intimidating room with gothic-style decor, dimly lit by flickering firelight that's dampened by walls painted completely black. Your aching body is gently cradled by silk sheets with the highest thread count you've ever felt. Something about this room tugs at the edges of your memory, but it slips away whenever you attempt to grasp at it. A canopy drapes above you, framing the view of a shadowy-looking city outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows, and…
You startle as your somewhat delirious mind finally takes notice of the figure seated in front of you. There's a pitcher of water with two expensive-looking glasses set on a table behind him, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit. He's slumped over in a luxurious armchair, his head resting on his knuckles as he breathes deeply, fast asleep. That's- no way, this can't be right.
You check your hands — five fingers on both, no abnormalities. You're wearing your usual pajamas, and the details are all there, down to the smallest stain. This is too clear to be a dream. This hurts too much to be a dream. So what, a psychotic break? Are you going insane?
Intense pain blooms deep in your skull, and you cover your face, holding back a shuddering sob. Chills and shivers wrack your body, and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from crying out and waking the stranger in front of you. The stranger, because there's no way that's who you think it is. He's not real. You must be going insane; it hurts so badly. You bite down on your palm to keep yourself quiet, tasting iron as your unease builds even further.
You have to get out of here. You have to get out of here. Dizzy and delirious, you climb out of bed, nearly collapsing to the floor just from trying to stay standing. You unsteadily stumble forward on legs shaking from the effort of holding up your own body weight, singularly focused on moving forward. You've never felt this weak before.
With a great amount of effort, you reach the door to the bedroom, and luckily, the door's hinges don't squeak as you push it open. You're relieved to have something to lean on, bracing your shoulder against the wall as you force yourself to keep moving forward.
You're unsure of your goal as you mindlessly limp down the hallway, peeking past the open doors in hopes of finding something, anything. No luck. Not even a promising-looking potential hiding place. Acid bubbles up in your throat, and you choke on a cough, just barely swallowing it back down. Your throat burns as the liquid retreats, but you know it likely won't be gone for long.
A bathroom. You need a bathroom. Shivering as another wave of chills rolls through you, you keep moving forward. There would have likely been one attached to the bedroom you woke up in, but you're not going to risk heading back in there, not when there's some sort of doppelganger at your bedside.
A wave of pain originating from your heart forces you to your knees, and you gasp, your vision blurring with tears. You struggle back up to your feet, and you think you catch a glimpse of red, beady eyes glowing in your direction from a vantage point up above. But when you try for a second glance, they're gone.
The nausea in the back of your throat is rapidly worsening, and it's looking like you won't get to a bathroom in time. You stumble into a random room, looking for a garbage can, but there's none in your limited field of vision. Acting on instinct, you crawl under a table in the corner like a defeated dog, curling up as you try to hold back the inevitable.
The ringing in your ears grows louder as tears drip down your nose, hand pressed to your mouth. You're too drained to flinch when you feel cool fingers brushing your neck as they carefully gather up your hair, holding it out of the way as another hand gently pries yours from your mouth, nearly engulfing it as a thumb rubs slow circles on the back.
"It's alright. Just let it out, sweetheart. I've got you."
You sob, a hiccup quickly followed by a cough, then a violent retch as your body expels a thick, viscous, black goo onto the ground in front of you. You don't even have enough time to be horrified before more quickly follows, this time mixed with the contents of your stomach.
It tastes awful, leaving a lingering burn in your throat and your mouth, and the taste of what you can only imagine as rotten flesh. You cough up a few more mouthfuls before slumping forward, easily caught by the large hands that have handled you so delicately.
Your vision is spotty as your body is pulled forward, retrieving you from your hiding spot with the utmost care. Your mouth is carefully wiped with a silk handkerchief before you feel the figure lifting you with incredible ease, guiding your chest to lean against his own as he stands up. He must be very tall, you muse, as you're quite far off the ground.
He walks slowly, one arm beneath your thighs and the other rubbing circles into your back to keep you steady and attempt to mitigate the effects of motion sickness. You appreciate his efforts to keep you comfortable. Your throat still burns; you think it got into your sinuses, too. You sob softly into his shoulder. You can't stop shaking.
You lose focus for a little while, almost dozing off, but you're brought back by the soothing sensation of a warm washcloth gently cleaning your face, wiping away your dried tears and the leftover black residue around your lips and nose. You're sitting on the edge of a cold bathtub, with the man's hand still pressed to your back to keep you from toppling over.
A plastic cup is tapped to your mouth, accompanied by a soft command.
"Swish."
You do as he says, opening up for the liquid and swishing it around in your mouth. Once you're done, he guides you to lean over and spit it out into the tub, bringing you back to wipe your lips again. How did he know your favorite mouthwash…? Lucky guess?
You're lifted again, and you lean into the man, burying your face in his chest for comfort. He smells nice; a small but very welcome distraction from your poor condition. You don't think you've ever felt closer to death than you do now. The deep, burning agony in your heart has begun to spread slowly through your veins, and your muscles now protest with a throbbing pain left from overexertion.
You're pulled from the grounding warmth of his chest yet again and delicately placed in the bed where you woke up, back in the embrace of its silken sheets, now soothingly cool against your feverish skin. You're propped up like a doll against slanted pillows, and the man sits in front of you, dipping the mattress. His hands press another cup to your lips, this one made of glass.
"Drink."
You doubt you could gather enough energy to raise your arms to grip his wrist, so you thoughtlessly comply, the water feeling heavenly against your irritated throat, clearing much of the remnants of black goop still clinging to the inside. You drain the whole glass in no time, and after he refills it, you drain another. You're about to ask for a third, but the man places the cup aside, opting to press the back of his hand to your forehead instead.
"You have an incredibly high fever…" He murmurs, concern laced in his tone. "We need to see how that water settles first, then I can give you some more."
You turn away from him, your gaze fixing instead on your hands. Your skin looks much greyer than it should. But you can't bring yourself to care as exhaustion begins to tug insistently at your mind, urging you to relinquish your feeble grip on consciousness. You almost do, but you're interrupted again by the man's voice.
"Do you remember who I am?"
You blink a few times, forcing your eyes to focus in order to make contact with the stranger's ruby-red ones. There's a hint of desperation and vulnerability in them that you hadn't spotted before.
"… Sylus?" you rasp, your throat feeling like it's filled with shards of broken glass. Though, the pain is worth it when you get to catch the surprised relief on the man's face. Maybe it is really him.
Instead of confirming or denying your assumption, he gently lifts one of your hands, leaning down and pressing his lips to your knuckles. There's a new tenderness when he speaks now, as if your existence itself is as fragile as glass and he's afraid to shatter reality.
"Rest. I'll be by your side until you wake."
Some part of you deep inside feels comforted by that, so you let go, falling into the cavernous abyss of sleep.
1.2K words. Fluff (a tiny bit smutty) Lightly proofread. MC trying her best to surprise her hubby
It was incredibly difficult to sneak up on Sylus. Impossible, really. Not only did he have a little spy to always keep him informed, but his senses were super human. He always heard you coming or even could smell the perfume you put on that morning.
Damn him and his dragon senses.
But you were determined to catch him off guard at least once. All of your attempts to get him when he was awake failed. So you decided to shift gears and try to get him in his sleep.
You set it up perfectly.
You sent him dinner. A big, hearty meal full of carbs and protein, matched with his favorite bottle of wine and topped with a pint of his favorite ice cream. As well as a cute note to go with it telling him if he doesn’t eat it, you will be really sad.
You also made sure to call him when you woke up. He would be heading to bed soon, finishing up some paperwork or a quick work out before showering. You distracted him by being needy over the phone. Saying you needed his voice and you wanted to hear him touch himself. He was more than happy to oblige and you got a rocking orgasm out of it. A win-win. He would be even more tired after that.
Next you had Luke and Kieran place one of your shirts in his bedroom. You told them to make it look like it was just left by mistake after a sleepover, tossed into some corner of the room that he would surely see. You made sure to wear it over night so it would smell a lot like you. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist smelling it. He loved your smell. He craved it. It helped him relax. In the privacy of his own room, you knew he would curl up with it as he went to bed.
All this would be just the thing to lull him into a deep, deep sleep.
Sylus slept deeply, but still would wake up at a moment's notice if he needed to. But after all your planning, you are hoping it will get him in deep enough to not hear you sneak into his bedroom.
Luke texts you when he’s sure Sylus is asleep. You drive over, parking outside the garage so he doesn’t hear it opening. You slip inside one of the side entrances and tip toe to his room. The door is closed. You take a deep breath and turn the knob as slowly as you can. It is silent as you push it open.
The room is dark and you see a massive lump lying face down on the bed. The massive lump being your husband, sleeping on his stomach like he always did when he was alone. When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can see he indeed does have your t-shirt curled up next to his face.
You smile. You love how well you know him and how you can predict what he will do. It almost makes you feel bad for what you are about to do. Almost.
You pad across the carpeted floor, watching him for any movement. When you get to his side, you take a deep breath to prepare yourself to pounce. However, you don’t quite get there. In the silence of the room, you hear a deep chuckle.
“After this, you’ll never be able to refute me calling you a kitten, sweetie.”
You sigh when you see one of his red eyes peeking up at you from his pillow. He’s smirking, triumphant. After all the work you put into this, you still couldn’t get him.
“For fucks sake.”
He tsks, rolling onto his side to look at you better. “You went to a lot of effort, sweetie. It’s too bad you can’t enjoy the fruits of your labor.”
You cross your arms. “Well you could have let me enjoy them.”
“I think the only one with fruits to enjoy is me.”
He reaches out, taking your arm and pulling you to him. You fall over him with a squeal as he cages you in his arms and rolls over so you can’t escape. His weight is pressing you to the bed. You squirm, but his massive body has you trapped.
“I had hoped my sweet wife was just wanting to spoil me with all the treats she left, but I knew she was up to something. Trying to ambush me in my sleep? Such a naughty, sneaky kitten.”
He rubs his nose against your cheek and down your neck. You whine, trying to push him off to no avail.
“The t-shirt was a nice touch. Though I will have to have words with the twins for entering my room without permission.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “I gave them permission.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize you had the authority to grant such permissions,” he teases.
“I’m the bosslady, I can do what I want. Including buttering you up to get you in a deep sleep.”
He lifts his head to look at you. You can see his right eye is glowing just a bit. He loves it when you pull rank. When you boss him and his henchmen around like the proper Lady of Onychinus that you are. He leans down, you think to kiss you, but he bites your cheek, chewing on it. You shriek and can’t help but laugh.
“Syyyy cmon!”
He rumbles against your cheek, releasing it and licking where he bit. It tickles, making you laugh more. Your disappointment from your failed plan fades away. Damn him.
“You’re such an ass.”
“An ass you chose to marry.”
“You begged me.”
“Did I? I don’t remember it that way, sweetie.”
“Then your memory is starting to go, old man.”
He ignores your slight, kissing down your neck. Your eyes close and you lean into him. One of his hands grips your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You can feel his desire growing between his legs.
“I thought about calling to ask you what you were up to, but I knew your antics would lead you here. Right where I wanted you. In my bed, under me. Won’t you stay with me, sweetie? It’s your day off, after all.”
You whine, trying to resist him. You’d made plans for after your prank to get some things done around your house. Chores you’d been neglecting and errands you needed to run. But your sleepy, warm, and clingy husband was a much more tempting offer.
“You need to sleep, Sy. And I’ve got some stuff to do.”
He grumbles, sounding grumpy. He doesn’t let you go. He presses his hips further into you, starting a slow rhythm.
“Sleep is the last thing on my mind, kitten. For your planned sabotage, I think you should make it up to me.”
You feel yourself growing needy. He cups your cheek and kisses you, sliding his tongue in to claim your mouth. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You can’t resist him. You don’t even want to bother trying.
“You’re lucky I love you.” You whisper between kisses.
He smirks against your lips, biting your bottom one. “I tell myself that every day.”
having to come to terms with the fact that love is not an everlasting performance in which you attempt to retain the attention of your significant other but rather a release of control and putting faith into them and trusting them to choose to stay with you no matter what you have to offer
NOTE(S): hurt/comfort + pre-established relationship + the LIs are Professional Yearners™️ + use of pet names ('pipsqueak' in caleb's + 'cutie' in rafayel's + 'sweetie' in sylus')
A/N: as a 'i have never dated before, what is love' girlie, this is for my fellow brethren! you are seen and heard, and i gotchu 🫶
you cock your head sideways as you think about the things that he has done for you. "you know, if i were anyone else, i would've taken things the wrong way and assumed you're interested in me."
"you should." he nods. "because that's what someone does if they're interested in you."
you pull your lips back into a grimace. "yeah, so... i wouldn't know about that."
a crease appears between his brows. "what?"
"i said, i wouldn't know about that." you shrug. "because no one's ever showed explicit interest in me before. i guess i've just never been someone's first choice, you know?"
"why would you say that?" the expression on his face turns incredulous, as though you have grown a pair of horns out of your head.
"maybe i'm just not attractive enough? and there's someone more good-looking than me that caught their attention? i guess i'm not likeable." you immediately bite on your tongue and clamp your mouth shut; you have said too much. you did not mean to air your subconscious insecurities like that.
the atmosphere changes, and you need to change the topic before things get too awkward. "sorry, i didn't mean to say all that. anyway..."
— CALEB | XIA YIZHOU
on one hand, he is so confused because: what??? what do you mean no one has ever liked you before??? have you looked at yourself in the mirror before??? are you mentally sane??? do you need to go to an optometrist to get your eyes checked??? for the love of god, there is no way no one (he repeats, no one) has never had an inkling of interest in you before.
on the other hand, can he really blame you? he has been dutifully scaring away every single person away from you. ain't no one approaching you when you have a full grown doberman looming behind you like that.
he is shocked at your self-assessment and promptly says, "you sayin' i don't have eyes, pipsqueak? for your information, my eyesight is 20/20, just so you know, and i know what i'm seeing with my two eyes right now."
takes you on a spontaneous date to get rid of those thoughts in your head. you are the most stunning person on earth, and he will have you recognise and acknowledge that.
— RAFAYEL | QI YU
immediately jumps backward, gasps out loud, and clutches his chest, as though you have just called him a lemurian slur. "what? i beg your finest pardon?"
"nobody is interested in me," you say? you do not know this, but he has waited 800 years for you. he has pined and yearned for you since, what, the dawn of time? try again, cutie!
"i know beauty when i see it, cutie," he says with a frown, reaching forward to cup your cheeks, "and i'm telling you that you're the finest piece of art crafted by adonis himself."
brings you to a closed-off room in his studio and shows you the sheer number of canvases in there, all of which having you as the subject, of course! "tell me, if you are as unattractive as you claim to be, do you think i'd paint you these many times? c'mon, you know i have an eye for art."
— SYLUS | QIN CHE
raises his eyebrow. oh? not attractive enough? those pests must have serious eyesight issues, so it seems. he quite literally cannot fathom your thought process and is confused as to how you came up with that conclusion.
he is also offended. has he not been showing you how much he adores you? should he buy out a luxury goods store or have you be the owner of his black card to show yoh how much he is willing to give you?
"don't be sorry, sweetie." his voice takes on a gentle edge as he drapes his coat over you. "being sorry means you've done something wrong, and the person who's wrong is the one who gave you those incorrect signals in the first place."
brace yourself, he is going to spoil you rotten for the days to come just to prove how much you deserve being someone's first choice. and not just anyone; his first choice.
— XAVIER | SHEN XINGHUI
has two reactions: firstly, he is shocked at how you could feel that way about yourself when you are the strongest hunter he has ever met and someone he is willing to die for. secondly, he wants to find the people who made you feel that way and pay for it. how could anyone make you feel less than? it is unacceptable, because you deserve nothing but the best.
to him, you are everything he could possibly want. you are his first choice — nay, you are his sole choice. every lifetime, every universe, he is only ever going to choose you. so, you telling him that you have never felt like anyone's choice at all — it felt like someone had driven a knife right into his chest and twisted it.
"i'm sorry you feel that way, but you're wrong. there's definitely someone out there who will choose you, and you've just not recognised that yet." there is a soft yet solid cadence to his voice.
you can expect him to amp up his acts of service for you. never felt like anyone's first choice? you will see that you are his choice, and he wants you to see that.
— ZAYNE | LI SHEN
is honestly appalled that you would feel that way. you have always been the confident one, going into situations with such assertiveness that he is sure you have turned some heads. so, for him to find out that this confident person feels otherwise? this is news to him.
you can be assured that you are his first choice, and the exclusive person who has wedged their way into his icy heart. his heart has room for one person, and it is you.
"no matter how you've come to that conclusion, it's entirely false." the way he says it sounds like he is stating a fact and there is no way to challenge it. he pauses, then adds, "i'm certain that you have been someone's first choice at least once."
starts treating you with more intention, attention, and care. after all, you need not look far to find that someone he mentioned; that someone he was talking about happens to be your primary care physician.
Could I request the Darkling x virgin reader where they go to bed together, but before they sleep together reader changes her mind as she's not ready. She's unsure how he will react, but darkling is super soft and reassuring and tells her they will only sleep together when she's ready/there's no rush or pressure etc...
A/n: I made you wait far too long for this anon!! this was a great prompt and i loved writing it. no one makes me melt more than Soft Darkling! hope you love it <33
Eager
Darkling X VirginFem!Reader
Word Count: 2524
Warnings: fluff/spice (no smut), misogyny vibes (but not from Darkling!)
You felt utterly ridiculous standing in the middle of your expansive bedchamber, the lacy negligee Genya had picked out for you doing little to keep you warm. You had the bottom hem bunched in your shaking hands as you looked at yourself in the mirror.
“Deep breaths,” Genya cooed gently as she brushed your hair down your back. You tried to follow her instructions, timing your inhales and exhales with hers. No amount of self-control could quite stifle the terrified stuttering of your heart in your chest. She knitted her brows at your reflection in the mirror.
“It’s normal to be nervous,” she observed softly. “But you shouldn’t be… terrified.”
The corners of your mouth twitched as you fought the urge to cry. You were grateful for the dim light of the scattered candles in your room. It kept your sour expression cast in shadow.
“I’m not terrified,” you argued weakly. “I’m just…” Your voice trailed off impotently as you tried to find the right word. Apprehensive? Embarrassed? Exhausted?
“Stressed.” You settled on a word that captured such a small fraction of the emotions swirling in your chest as to be almost negligible. You were terrified, although not in the way Genya assumed. You were anything but unsure of what you were about to do. In fact, you were utterly consumed with desire for Aleksander. The warm knot that boiled low and deep in your stomach confirmed that. Your heart skipped a beat as your pent-up mind thrust imagined scenes into your consciousness: your lips on the curve of his neck… the muscles on his back flexing as he climbs on top of you… his fingers digging into the flesh around your hips…
No, it wasn’t sex that you were terrified of. And it wasn’t Aleksander either.
The source of your terror wasn’t anywhere outside of you. It was within you. You forced yourself to hold your own gaze in the mirror, staring down the demons in your own eyes. You need to confront this, you chided yourself. No more running.
You were terrified of giving up this part of yourself to someone else. It wasn’t about Aleksander, and it wasn’t about the actions involved in giving it up. The thing that held your heart in an ice-cold vice was the fear of repercussions. You’d been raised in the Ravkan High Court your whole life, and as the only Lantsov daughter, your worth still hinged on antiquated rules tied to your purity. Your brothers Nikolai and Vasily had never known that kind of pressure, had never been forced to preserve their innocence for the bitter reward of bartering an advantageous marriage.
You had Aleksander to thank for showing you your worth. He was the one who’d shown you what it meant to be truly valued, truly loved. He was the one who’d intervened on your behalf when you’d been standing at the altar, moments away from an ill-fated marriage to an abusive drunk. All your family had seen was the virginal princess wrapped in white - Ravka’s most valuable gift - and the massive coffers of your almost-husband’s family. Aleksander had seen a woman inches away from marrying what would ultimately be the death of her. He’d been the one to give you a choice. You loved him, completely and utterly, and he would be the one you’d choose to give yourself to, body and soul.
But as much as you hated to admit it - as much as it stung to confront just how deeply rooted the twisted morals of your upbringing had become within your own mind - you hadn’t come to peace yet. You were flexing your newfound freedom a little more every day. With Aleksander by your side. But you needed more time.
A gentle knock on the carved wooden doors that separated your bedchamber from the hall outside knocked you from your reverie. Genya stood hastily, smoothing her palm over the smooth waves of your hair one last time. She gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You caught her hand under your own, nodding calmly as you smiled at her. You wondered if she could see the gratitude in your eyes. Aleksander was the first to show you true love, and Genya was the first to show you true friendship. You hoped that one day you’d be able to put into words just how much she’d saved you.
She hesitated only briefly to smile back before she made her exit, disappearing through the doorway into the hall. You heard her exchange soft words with Aleksander before she closed the door behind her.
You chuckled when you heard Aleksander knock again gently, asking if he could come in. Ever the gentleman, you thought as you replied affirmatively. The door opened a crack, deep shadows darkening the doorway. Aleksander seemed to materialize out of the very darkness itself. It was a strange manifestation of his powers, and one that you weren’t sure if he was fully aware of. You’d never mentioned it to him, preferring instead to let yourself be caught breathless by his presence each time.
As always, you felt your breath tangle in your throat for an instant. The sight of him seemed to wipe your mind clean of all the worries and the conflicted emotions, leaving behind nothing more than that burning knot in your stomach. His dark eyes took in the scene before him, lingering on the vast expanses of your skin that he’d never seen before. For the first time since you’d slipped into the sheer, purple-tinted gown, you felt warm. You ignored the urge to demur and turn away under the heat of Aleksander’s hungry gaze. Instead, you rose from your seat in front of the dressing mirror and walked towards him. A gentle breeze from the open window next to your bed made the candlelight flicker, the hazy glow dancing in his eyes as he tracked your every movement. That delicious, warm knot low in your belly tightened at the closeness of him, the air between the two of you practically crackling with energy.
“You look-”
You silenced what you were sure would have been a devastatingly appreciative compliment by pressing a finger to his full lips. He fell silent obediently, his eyes simmering like coals. It was rare for him to see you so confident. Usually he was the one guiding the interaction, but you felt incredibly powerful as he fell under your spell. His usually tense and vaguely troubled energy completely erased in favor of awe as he drank you in without an ounce of embarrassment.
You replaced your finger with your lips, pressing yourself against his tall, strong frame. His hands raked up the side of your thighs, bunching the fabric of your gown up on your waist to expose the skin of your hips. His hands kept traveling upward, following your ribs from your sides up into the planes of your shoulders and your upper back. You let yourself melt into the kiss, moaning softly as he drank in every drop of what you were giving him with a hungry, seemingly bottomless need.
His hands finally found their way up into your hair, tangling his fingers gently but firmly against your scalp as he pulled you back from his mouth. You looked up at him through slitted eyes, feeling drunk and whining at the loss of his mouth. He smirked, relishing in the effect his touch was having on you.
“Eager are we, pretty girl?”
Your stomach somersaulted at the pet name, your head spinning wildly as he bore back down on your mouth. His tongue pressed through your open lips, tasting you as if he’d never be sated. You could feel the seams between your thoughts starting to loosen, your mind falling under the intoxicating spell of lust. His hands released your hair and slid down your spine and over the swell of your backside. He hooked his hands under your ass, and you leapt up into his arms, twining your legs around his waist. He caught you easily, the muscles in his arms and back flexing with ease as he guided you backwards towards the luxurious bed. You felt the softness of the sheets envelop you as he laid you down, his weight settling on top of you not an instant later. It was all warmth and friction between you two, each of your hands roaming freely over the other’s body as you kept driving the kiss deeper.
It wasn’t until you felt one of his hands slip over your naked hip and settle between your thighs that a familiar prick of uncertainty flared to life in the back of your mind. It was quiet but insistent, and like a lighthouse cutting through a thick fog, it brought your awareness crashing back into the moment with disappointing clarity.
Aleksander sensed your hesitation and broke the kiss, his eyes suddenly full of worry as he met your gaze.
“Where’d you go?” he asked, his voice husky around the edges. The sound of it nearly wiped away the trace indecision that flitted around your thoughts like a gnat. But, as gorgeous as he looked hovering over you with a concerned expression, his breath more ragged than usual, you knew in your heart what your decision was.
“I… I want you… desperately want you. But… maybe not… maybe not tonight.” As the words came out in a halting mumble, you suddenly felt incredibly sheepish. A nagging voice in your head made the sharp observation that you’ve let him go this far, the least you can do is give the man what he needs and finish the job.
You found you were unable to meet his eyes, afraid of what you’d see in his gaze. You weren’t sure you could bear to disappoint Aleksander of all people. Much like a few minutes ago, you felt the edges of your mouth turn down and tremble, tears threatening your eyes. That hot, lusty urge that had almost consumed you moments before crumpled like tissue paper in your blood, and your cheeks burned with shame.
“My beautiful girl,” he murmured, rolling sideways onto the bed and gently guiding your chin upward with his thumb. “Never discount your needs with me.” His voice was serious, each word heavy with emphasis.
You furrowed your brows in confusion, drinking in the flickers of emotion in his mahogany-black eyes.
“I don’t understand,” you mumbled in reply.
“Do not say ‘maybe not tonight’ when what you mean is ‘not tonight’,” he clarified. His words felt like a riddle you were struggling to grasp. Sensing your confusion, he went on. “You deserve better than that. This-” he gestured to your two bodies, still somewhat intertwined on the bed- “will only give us what we want if we are clear on what we need.”
You’d never laid with a man, had never come this far into intimacy with Aleksander, but you recognized the truth in his words on an instinctual level. The bluntness with which he addressed you was strange and refreshing, and it emboldened you. You nodded in agreement, holding his gaze to show him you understood. He smiled after a moment, satisfied with your reaction.
“My affection for you is not contingent on your body,” he added, anticipating the direction of your worries before your thoughts had a chance to get there. “I love you for all that you are, independent of what you share with me on any given night.” Your head spun, struggling under the weight of what you were sure was one of the most pure and powerful expressions of love that anyone had put to words. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as a crushing wave of appreciation for the man in front of you swallowed your thoughts.
Aleksander watched your emotions flash in your eyes, the tears causing him to frown slightly in confusion. He brushed a thumb at the corner of your lash line, wiping away the moisture there. His touch still sent shivers rippling over your skin, and you smiled at him. Emboldened by his devotion, you took a deep breath in and began to speak.
“I don’t know how to give away this part of myself, Aleks. After having my virginity prized and sought after and protected for so long, I’m struggling to think of this-” you copied his gesture, referencing the space between you two where your legs tangled in his and your skin pressed on his torso “-as anything beyond duty. It’s getting better,” you added quickly, noticing the twinge of hurt in his eyes. “It is. Because of you. And I do love you. And I want this. I want to be yours, to give myself to you, including my body.” You had to swat away the urge to kiss him as you noticed the involuntary flicker of desire in his gaze at your words. “And I will. But not until I can think of sex as more than just… a gift.”
The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you could catch them. When you were done, you bit your lip, unsure if anything you’d confessed had made sense. You waited, studying Aleksander’s face. As usual, he was drinking you in, his intuition grasping at every minute detail in your tone, inflection, and expression. When you’d first met him, you’d been unnerved by how observant he was, how quickly he deduced your feelings and thoughts. At times, his studious attention was irritating as it meant you couldn’t keep anything from him. But now, when you felt yourself drowning in a million emotions you weren’t sure had names, you were grateful for his ability to read you.
After a few long moments under his penetrating gaze, he smiled, softly chuckling.
“What’s funny?” you asked, more curious than offended. He reached down and found your hand, resting on your stomach. He interlaced his fingers with yours and brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm, reassuring kiss there. When he raised his dark eyes back to yours, you saw nothing but adoration sparkling back at you.
“You are, quite simply, the most incredible being I have ever known,” he said simply, as if he were reading a recipe list to you. “I would wait until the night swallows the sun for you. Whenever you’re ready, my love. You know where to find me.” His last words were mumbled slightly as he rolled over, twisting towards the edge of the bed. As elated as you were by his unequivocal acceptance of your boundary, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit rejected to see him turn to leave.
“And where’s that, Aleks?” you asked. He half-turned back to you, one eyebrow raised in question. “Where will I find you?” you clarified. He smirked, picking up the candle on your bedside table and blowing it out with a confident exhale.
“Right here,” he replied, settling in under the covers next to you, his arms wrapping around your barely clothed body and pulling you against him. You smiled in the darkness at the realization that he wasn’t going anywhere, and neither were you…
Warnings [18+]: smut, fingering, experienced!Aleksander, innocent!reader, reader has outdated ideas about first times, tiny bit of corruption kink, praise kink, wife kink, size kink, unprotected sex, soft dom!Aleksander, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy (nothing explicitly described), smidge of pain kink, a hint of dacryphilia, mentions of sexual acts, oral (fem receiving), fingering, loss of virginity
A Night Of Firsts [18+]
Your family requires you to marry, despite your position as a First Army strategist. Luckily, General Kirigan is more than willing to offer you his hand in marriage. You’re fond of Aleksander, but your wedding night has arrived and you’re beyond nervous.
The First Time [18+]
Being married to Aleksander is a dream, but after your honeymoon he begins to withdraw from you. The happy couples surrounding you have you wanting to build a family of your own, so you ask your husband to grant your wish.
Missing You • Little Shadow • Sunny Days
Aleksander fulfils his promise to you, and together you build a family of your own.
basically hanahaki disease w/ Aleksander? when alina arrived at the little palace, reader had been coughing and Aleksander noticed then reader found out that she was coughing petals and eventually got to know it was a disease with the help of some of the plant expert grishas i guess perhaps the healers? then reader starts to distance herself from Aleksander so he wouldn't know but he eventually found out because one of the grisha witnessed one of reader's coughing session and maybe an angst to fluff fic 👉👈
first of all, i am so sorry.. she's a long one... this has been tentatively proofread so i apologise for any grammar or spelling errors. this is my first time writing this trope so i hope it will do alright. thank u for ur beautiful req, my lovely anon, i love u!
warnings: hanahaki disease, blood, vomiting, aleksander is an idiot here lowkey.
word count: 11.9k
To Love Another & Be Loved (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)
-
The Sun Summoner had to be one of the nicest people you’d met in your entire life.
You wanted to dislike her, after all, she was the center of Aleksander’s attention almost all of the time. Not even the scraps of his time had been reserved for you as of late.
But you simply couldn’t hate her. She was nothing but kind to you. You spent much of your time with her, anyway. You were the only other Tailor besides Genya and often helped her ready herself for important things when Genya was tending to the Queen. At first, your service to her was only out of obligation to Aleksander. After all, he was your best friend and he fought the King constantly to keep you away from the Grand Palace. The least you could do was help a bit. Surely it would be temporary.
You sat in Alina’s room with her and you focused hard on twisting her hair up and braiding little bits of it to create an elaborate updo. She was to have dinner with the King and Queen and the Prince that night along with Aleksander. You wordlessly pinned up a thin, tiny braid and Alina sighed.
“At what point does this all just… stop?” She asked warily and you eyed her through the mirror she sat in front of.
You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, “What do you mean?” You questioned and flickered your eyes back on her hair.
“Just… the showiness of it all. When do I become a person with capabilities rather than a spectacle?”
“Likely never.” You replied with a frown and you met her eyes in the mirror, “But that shouldn’t discourage you. Be the best damn spectacle this country has seen.”
Her shoulders squared a bit and she seemed to at least somewhat like what you had to say. You smiled and went back to her hair, your fingers deftly weaving braids and little twists together for a while longer. You sat back after some time and then placed a few decorative pins in her hair, giving her an approving smile.
“Lovely. I’m sure the royal family will just eat you up.” You teased and rose from the stool you sat on.
“I’m sure Aleksander won’t like that.” She countered playfully and the smile slowly faded from your face.
You blinked in surprise a few times and then let out an uneasy chuckle, “So he’s told you his name?”
You didn’t know why it bothered you. But it did.
Alina nodded and she slid on her kefta and buttoned it up while she hummed. You eyed her and bit down on the inside of your cheek. It was black, of course. You glanced down at your own kefta and smoothed it down almost self-consciously. You wore a red kefta that was intricately embroidered with blue threads, and you’d never been disappointed in it until now.
Why not dress her in gold? You asked silently as you stared at her and you felt that same bitter twinge of jealousy you’d felt ever since she came to the Little Palace. Furthermore, the little sparkle in her eyes when she said his name didn't go unnoticed by you.
“Yes, is it not very common knowledge?” She asked once she finished buttoning up her clothes and you shook your head.
You opened your mouth to speak but a knock on the door cut you off. You took this as an opportunity to end this conversation before it made you more upset and you hurried to the door. You opened it up and you were instantly met by a familiar pair of dark eyes. A little weight was lifted from your chest and you smiled up at Aleksander who gave you a smile right back.
“I figured you’d still be here.” He remarked and leaned down to press a chaste and polite kiss on your cheek. Your skin felt warm and tingly where his lips had made contact and as he pulled away, you prayed he didn’t see the way your face was flushing.
“It probably wouldn’t have taken so long if Alina didn’t have so much hair.” You noted and then tucked a piece of your own back behind your ear, “I haven’t seen much of you recently.” You remarked, trying your best to keep your tone casual.
Aleksander clasped his hands behind his back and he gave you a wide smile, “Well, as you know, I’ve been very busy. Join me for tea tomorrow afternoon, I would love to catch up with you.” He said earnestly and you felt a tug in your chest.
“Of course. Tea sounds wonderful.” You replied, and watched as his eyes shifted over your shoulder.
The look on his face made your own smile falter. His eyes were fixed on Alina who stood behind you and his smile had turned into an awestruck expression, his eyes softening in ways they didn’t even soften for you.
“Miss Starkov, you look dazzling.” He commented and you suddenly felt very small, standing in the middle of them.
Her shy giggle sent a gravelly itch up your throat and you blinked a few times, trying to fight back a cough.
She thanked him and said something else, but you didn’t hear it because a dry, gritty cough came tearing up through your throat. You held your hands over your mouth frantically and doubled over. You felt a hand on your back and slowly you straightened yourself back up and gasped for air, the coughs ceasing.
“Are you alright? Would you like a bit of water?” You heard Alina ask and you shook your head, shifting your eyes downwards.
“What was that? Did you choke on a fly?” Aleksander asked with an amused little chuckle. You gave him a terse laugh in response and felt your throat burn again. Another much smaller and shorter cough reverberated through your chest and you held your hands tightly over your mouth. A warm, wet feeling coated your palms and your face paled.
Once you recovered you frantically balled your hands up in fists and lowered them to your sides, clearing your throat, “I’m not sure where that came from. I think I’ll go make some tea. Have a lovely dinner.” You murmured hoarsely and scurried past Aleksander, not bothering to look back at them. You made it halfway down the hallway before you slowly unfurled your hands and held them up so that you could see your palms.
They were sporadically coated in blood.
-
“You don’t have a cold, y/n. Perhaps it’s just the dry air. Winter is upon us.” Genya stated as she stirred a sugar cube into her tea.
You looked over your shoulder and expected to see Aleksander any time now and then you turned back to Genya with a shrug.
“I don’t know what else it could be. I can’t stop coughing.” You replied, leaving out the part where most of your coughs dragged blood up from your throat.
She hummed and took a sip of her tea before shaking her head, “No. Grisha don’t get sick, lovely. You can’t have a cold. Perhaps you’re allergic to something you’ve been smelling or using or eating. Anything new in your diet? Perfumes? Lotions?” She pressed and you shook your head, “Well, then I’m not sure what to tell you. See a Healer if you’re concerned about it but I’m telling you it’s likely the dry air.” She urged.
You looked down at your own tea and watched tendrils of steam climb the air above it. You let out a sigh and reached out to grab a sugar cube, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and spun around, feeling instant relief when you saw that it was only Aleksander who had his hand on you. You sighed contently and leaned your cheek down against the back of his hand.
“Please, forgive me. I know I’m a bit late to tea. I just had a rather disappointing conversation with a few trackers.” He hummed and then pulled his hand away from your shoulder, leaving you with a certain kind of emptiness.
He slid into the chair next to you and grabbed your hand tightly, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. Genya must have heard it, because she smirked and quickly raised her teacup to her lips to hide it.
“You weren’t at breakfast this morning.” He commented and tapped your knuckles with the side of his thumb.
“I wasn’t feeling the best.” You drawled and looked up at his face. He didn’t seem overly concerned when you mentioned that you didn’t feel well, but he didn’t brush it off, either.
“Odd. Perhaps you should see my Healer.” He pressed and then he reached out and poured himself a cup of tea with his free hand before he released your hand.
You didn’t respond. Instead, you turned back to your own tea and took a sip of it, looking up at Genya who cleared her throat and stood up.
“Well. I’ll leave you two to it then. I’ve got to get back to the Queen.” She stated and gave you a small wave before scurrying off.
“Y/n. My Healer?” Aleksander pressed and you glanced up at him.
You gave him a polite shake of your head and you smiled, “No, it’s all okay. I feel much better now.” You insisted. And it was partially true. You did feel a bit better now that you had some tea.
You felt his onyx eyes on you as you turned back to your tea and before you could turn towards him, he reached up and brushed a bit of your hair back behind your ear.
“You look very tired.” He commented and frowned, letting his fingers linger against the side of your face for only a second before dropping them.
“I am tired. But I have a lot to do today. Besides, I’m getting fitted for my dress today. For the Fete.” You commented, trying to change the subject.
He hummed and then picked up his teacup, “What are you going to wear?” He asked curiously and he shifted his entire body towards you.
You looked over at him and slowly turned yourself to face him as well and you gave him a little smile, “Well, not red. That’s for sure. I picked something soft. Pink. A pretty pink dress.”
“Pink is a form of red.” Aleksander pointed out, an amused little smile forming on his perfect lips.
You giggled and then shook your head, reaching out to give his arm a very gentle smack, “Pink is a very nice color and even if it is red at the very core of it all, I will be wearing it.”
He rolled his eyes playfully and then he chuckled, “Determined little thing, aren’t you?” He asked and then set his teacup down, “I’m glad you’re coming. I was worried you would skip this Fete like you did last year.”
“Well, last year Vasily was all over me. And I hated it. Of course I didn’t go.” You remarked with a little snort. Aleksander laughed softly and shook his head, turning back to his tea.
You looked at him, your face softening. Everything about him seemed so… inviting in that moment. The way his hair was immaculately brushed back and curled around the back of his neck, the little curve of his lips as they stayed in their smile from your antics. His dark eyes shone with a rare light of humor and the light of the afternoon sun illuminated them perfectly as you stared at him from the side. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful.
And you wanted him so badly. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted him to hold you, you wanted him to look at you the way he’d looked at Alina the night before. You wanted to wear black with him and you wanted to be at his side during the Fete.
You were desperately in love with your best friend, and the worst part was that you could never tell him.
Your silence must have concerned him in some way, because he slowly turned to face you, the smile slowly vanishing from his face.
“Y/n, you look like you are about to cry, darling. What’s going on?” He asked softly and you shook your head a few times.
“N..nothing is wrong.” You lied and felt your throat begin to tingle with the familiar preceding another coughing fit, “I think I just need to go lie down. I feel… unwell.” You added, your voice getting weaker as you tried to keep a cough at bay.
“Please,” Aleksander began and slowly rose from his chair, “let me walk you to your room, my dear. You are starting to worry me a little bit, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.” He stated and held his arm out for you to take.
You reached up to grab his arm but instantly yanked your hands back and brought them to your face as you began to cough violently into your palms. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled your mouth and you heaved forward on your chair, nearly falling off as you coughed. Aleksander’s strong hands caught your shoulders, and before you could protest, he was lifting you up into his arms.
“Alright. I’m going to take you to your room and then I’m going to send for a Healer. This isn’t natural. You shouldn’t be coughing like that.” He stated.
You held your hands over your mouth for a while longer as your coughs subsided and you blinked a few times. Once you were sure no more coughs were to come, you pulled your hands up into the sleeves of your kefta and you cleared your throat, wincing as it burned, “No, you don’t need to. I swear to the Saints it’s just allergies, Aleksander.” You said wheezily.
He looked down at your face and his brows furrowed together and he shook his head, “You have blood on your chin.” He commented and you gaped up at him.
You reached up and wiped your chin with the sleeve of your kefta and he simply shook his head. You closed your eyes exhaustedly and let him carry you the rest of the way to your room. Once he’d gotten you to your bedroom, he laid you out on your bed and frowned down at you.
“I’m sending a Healer up here. Don’t be stubborn, please let them help. I’d stay but I’m taking Alina riding. Promise me you will accept the help I send for you.” He said sternly and you opened your eyes.
You stared up at him, something snapping in your chest. He couldn’t even stay to make sure you were okay?
“That’s fine. I promise.” You said bitterly and then shook your head, “Have fun riding with Alina.”
You were sure he caught the bitterness in your tone, because he scowled slightly and then shook his head. He looked as if he might argue with you but instead he wordlessly turned on his heel and left your room, slamming your door behind him.
A brutal cough tore itself free from your chest and it sent you shooting up into a sitting position. You held your hands over your mouth to catch the droplets of blood that loosed themselves from your throat. Your throat burned as if you were swallowing acid and you miserably pulled your hands away from your mouth between coughs. You stared down at the blood in your hands and suddenly your stomach twisted. You launched yourself off of the bed and grabbed the waste bin that sat near your bed and you coughed violently into it until something sharp tore its way up through your throat and out of your mouth. You had to blink a few times before it registered what exactly sat in the once-empty waste bin; what exactly came out of your mouth. A small cluster of thorns lay in a thick puddle of your blood, and a cluster of bloody rose petals laid around it.
Your mouth hung agape as you stared down into the wastebasket and you pushed it away from you with a frightened yelp.
Something soft slid against your tongue and you reached up and shakily pulled a blood wetted rose petal off of your tongue, and it was the last thing you saw before your vision went black.
-
Something wet and cold mopped across your feverish forehead and you slowly opened your eyes. Someone’s hand moved back and forth in your line of sight and you heard a loud gasp before your hands were being clutched tightly. You cleared the fuzziness from your vision by blinking a handful of times and you slowly sat up a bit to see Genya standing over you with her hands clasping yours. A Healer stood at your bedside with a cloth in her hand and you looked back and forth between the two of them before you let out a raspy sigh.
“Y/n! Sweetheart! What is going on? Emilia found you this way. She said The Darkling sent her up here to you and that when she came in you were out cold on the floor.”
Emilia must have been the name of the Healer girl at your side and you looked over at her with a terse smile before you looked back at Genya. Her wide eyes were even wider with fear and you frowned, not wanting to have frightened her.
“I’m fine, I promise. It just must be aller-“
“It is not allergies!” Genya cut you off viciously and dropped your hand to point at the waste bin, “What kind of allergy has you throwing up… plants?” She demanded and you simply shrugged.
She exasperatedly squeezed the hand of yours that she still held and she frowned, “Emilia tried to heal you but couldn’t find anything wrong with you. Your lungs sound terrible but other than that, you’re healthy.” She said with worry lacing every word she spoke, “When The Darkling gets back from riding-“
You shook your head and held your hand up, “No. No we are not going to tell him a single thing, do you two understand me? You will tell him I am suffering allergies and will be fine in a week or two. I don’t want him around.” You said in a clipped tone.
Genya looked surprised when you said this but she didn’t protest. Instead, she comfortingly brushed her thumb across the back of your hand and let out a defeated little sigh, “Oh, honey. Are things that bad?”
You slowly looked up at Emilia and Genya did as well. Emilia looked between the two of you and she let out a little sigh.
“I’ll go get you some tea for your throat.” She said, excusing herself from the conversation that you so desperately wanted to keep private.
The moment the Healer left the room, you burst into tears. Your ragged breaths seemed to tear trenches into your throat as you cried and little coughs escaped your lips between sobs. You buried your face in your hands and barely noticed when Genya sat right next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you against her side.
“Sweetheart, what happened? This afternoon you were all smiles for him.” She breathed and gently rubbed your arm, soothing your cries just slightly.
“Oh, Genya. I love him. I’m so very in love with him and he hardly gives me the time of day anymore. He speaks of Alina like she’s hung his entire sky. He looks at her like she’s more precious than jewels. He noticed I wasn’t feeling well, and he couldn’t even stay with me. He just tossed a healer at me and left to go with her. It hurts, Genya.” You cried, hiding your face against her shoulder.
The red haired girl stroked your hair and your back and your arm as you cried against her and at some point, reached out to grab the cool cloth Emilia had left behind. She gently dabbed it against your cheeks and the side of your neck and she frowned, letting you cry.
Your chest ached terribly at the idea that you loved your best friend who would never love you back, but it seemed to hurt more that you were all in all losing said best friend. Genya coaxed you down until your cheek was against her upper thigh and she ran her fingers through your hair, dabbing the cold cloth against your burning skin still.
“Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, honey.” Genya said softly, still trying to soothe you.
Tears rolled down your cheeks still, but your cries subsided for the most part. You exhaustedly closed your eyes and relaxed underneath the Tailor’s touch. You took painful, deep breaths and attempted to calm yourself. You laid in silence against Genya’s thigh for a long time, the only sounds being your sniffles and coughs and little whines. You desperately tried to clear your head of Aleksander, and nearly had, before your door swung open. You heard the handle smack against the wall, and heavy footsteps made their way across your floors. Aleksander. You laid still against Genya and prayed that he thought you were asleep.
“Emilia says it’s only allergies.” Genya said quietly and you felt her hand slow in your hair until it rested protectively against the crown of your head.
You heard him shuffle for a moment before he hummed, “She looks miserable.” He remarked.
He lifted his hand to touch your arm, but Genya shooed his hand away and shook her head.
“Let her sleep.” She murmured and you heard Aleksander snort.
“Well, according to my Healer, she’s been unconscious for three hours up until now. How is she sleeping again?” He asked and you could tell he didn’t believe you were asleep.
That didn’t stop you from pretending, still.
“Because she is feeling unwell. Why don’t you come and see her tomorrow morning?” Genya suggested and slowly began to drag her fingers through your hair again.
“I don’t want to see her tomorrow morning. I want to see her now.”
“I don’t think she wants to see you, moi soverenyi.” The Tailor countered.
The room was silent for a moment and then you heard the rustle of his kefta as he shifted in place. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back every desire inside of you that screamed for you to launch yourself into his arms. Maybe if you did, he would carry you like he had earlier. You wanted to scream how you loved him in his face and cry on his chest about how he was hurting you. But you stayed rooted in the bed.
“Mm, alright then. Let her know that she needn’t seek me out then. If she truly does not want to see me. I won’t bother her.” He said coldly and you felt your face screw up in despair.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m only saying she likely doesn’t want to be bothered and roused from an already uncomfortable sleep just so you can ask her what I’ve already asked a hundred times. It’s just allergies. It happens with the turn of the seasons.” Genya explained calmly, her voice steady.
“I’ve known her for years now and she’s never had allergies at the turn of the seasons.” He stated.
“Well, that’s the only thing that it can be. The Healer said it herself. She’s perfectly healthy otherwise.” Genya insisted.
There was another long silence in the room and you could feel his near-black eyes boring into you, traveling your crumpled form. But he said nothing more. After a while, you heard his footsteps as he left the room and the door closed, much more carefully this time.
You didn’t dare open your eyes until Genya sighed and gently tapped the back of your head, “He’s not here, it’s okay.” She murmured and you slowly opened your eyes.
Another cry escaped your lips.
-
The next few days were absolutely miserable. You’d spent the first day and half in your room, and when Genya wasn’t waiting on you, you were alone. Aleksander didn’t come to see you once, and you came to accept that it was just going to be your new normal.
The first time you emerged from your bedroom in days was for dinner, and Genya held you tight to her side as she walked with you down to the dining hall. Normally, she didn’t eat with the other Grisha, but she had neglected many of her duties to the Queen to take care of you for the past two days.
Now, three days had passed since you had last seen- or heard, rather- Aleksander, and you sat out in the courtyard on the grass with Genya. The red haired girl had insisted that you needed sunlight and she sat and read under a tree with you while you laid your head in her lap. You could hardly speak, and when you did, your voice was raspy and quiet. Every now and then, the girl would look over her book to check on you, and each time she did, she’d give you a kind smile.
“Are you hungry?” She asked after a while and brought her hand up to your forehead to feel for your temperature.
You shook your head weakly and rubbed your cheek with the back of your hand, “I don’t have an appetite, admittedly.” You murmured and she clicked her tongue, but didn’t press the subject.
You tried your best to enjoy the cool breeze on your feverish cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to distract yourself from the pounding in your head and the raw burn in your throat.
“What are you reading?” You asked Genya absentmindedly and she hummed.
“Reading up on rare diseases. I found a few books that have information about sicknesses and accounts of Grisha becoming ill with certain ones. I thought maybe it would help us figure out what’s going on with you.” She stated and turned a page as if on cue.
A warm feeling tickled your nose and you felt it travel downwards until your skin was wet and you gasped and let out a curse. You sat up quickly and held your hand over your nose as it bled and you glanced down at the little bloody spot on Genya’s kefta.
“Saints. I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess.” You breathed and cupped your hands underneath your nose to catch the rapidly flowing blood.
The girl simply shook her head and pulled handkerchief out of her pocket and passed it to you, “Don’t be sorry. We can get the stain out easily.” She insisted, and you gratefully took the handkerchief from her and held it against your nose.
“Perhaps we should get you inside?” She suggested and you nodded once. You grabbed onto the tree with your free hand and balanced yourself as you rose to your feet. You felt winded as you stood and your throat began to prickle and you let out a groan that was cut short when you leaned forward and coughed viciously into the sleeve of your kefta. Little petals spewed out of your mouth as you coughed and got stuck with your blood onto the fabric of your sleeve, but you weren’t surprised anymore. Thorns and petals came along with the coughs now. At least now your nose had ceased its bleeding. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve and groaned in pain as you felt Genya touch your back.
“Oh, Saints. Hurry. Let’s go inside. The Darkling is out here.” She said in a hushed tone, and though you two tried to hurry into the palace, it seemed you weren’t fast enough, because Aleksander called your name.
You looked up at Genya worriedly and she took a glance at your face. Blood was smeared under your nose and on your chin and she let out a huff before she snatched the handkerchief from your hand and quickly cleaned up your face. She stuffed the soiled fabric into her pocket once more and you turned around just in time to see Aleksander approach you with Alina not far behind.
His kefta billowed like smoke behind him in the breeze and when he reached you, his face was nothing short of irritated and accusatory. His beautiful face was set in an angry grimace and his eyes were hard. You shied back slightly and felt Genya’s hand press encouragingly into your back.
“It must be rather fun ignoring me, since you’ve done it flawlessly for three days now.” He snapped and you looked down at your feet, biting down on the inside of your cheek.
“I haven’t felt well, I’m sorry.” You mumbled.
He snorted and reached out to grab your jaw, tilting your face up so that he could look down upon you, “That’s not an excuse. I don’t expect you to be prancing and frolicking around, but as someone who cares about you, I would at least like to be updated about your state.”
His words sent a shockwave of sadness through your chest and you frowned, your eyes watering. You blinked away your tears rapidly, refusing to cry in front of him and Alina. He let go of your face slowly and he shook his head.
“My dear, I worry about you, that’s all. I’m not truly angry, oh please don’t cry.” He said softly, his expression ridding itself of all anger as he watched your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.
You shifted your gaze over his shoulder and watched as Alina gently grabbed his arm and he subtly pulled her into his side. The action had you biting down on your cheek hard, a terrible cough fighting its way up your throat. You felt something sharp rise to the back of your throat and you shoved past all three of them to get inside of the palace, holding your hands over your mouth as you raced to your bedroom.
You were unsure of how you held it in for so long, but as soon as you got to your room, a violent retching sound ripped it’s way up through your chest and your throat and you fell to your knees and a slew of blood and petals came spewing out of your mouth. The heavy, sharp presence was still in the back of your throat and you coughed, and coughed, and coughed until you felt something shred the back of your throat and come loose. A rosebud tumbled from behind your lips, followed by a thick mixture of blood and saliva. You stared down at the sticky, bloody mess you had made all over your pale blue rug and you brought your shaky hands up to your clammy face, covering your mouth as you sobbed.
Your chest ached and burned as if you’d swallowed blades and you let out a shrill scream of frustration. You sunk down onto the floor even further and curled up into a ball, your cheek resting a bit too close to the sticky puddle of blood and floral matter. You were too exhausted to care. Everything hurt, nothing made sense. Every breath you took sent shards of glass sliding down your throat and you coughed again, bits of petals getting stuck to your bloodied lips. You slowly closed your eyes and shivered once, reaching down and holding your knees to your chest.
No one had followed you. Not even Aleksander. Even just thinking his name sent a pang of raw emotion through your chest and a few little tears rolled down your cheeks as you laid against the ruined carpets. Too busy with Alina. Too busy with everything. When did the busy excuses end? At what point did you need to accept that he didn’t love you as much as you loved him, and certainly not in the same way. You cursed yourself for thinking of him. Why were you thinking of him? He surely wasn’t thinking of you. You should have been thinking about why the hell you were sick.
But all you could think about was Aleksander.
-
You weren’t sure how or when, but at some point, you’d been moved up onto your bed and your blood-ruined dress had been switched out for a light, breathable nightgown. A hand dragged itself through your hair slowly and you almost thought you were imagining in your half-asleep state, until you heard voices.
“I don’t really care. I will remove someone from the frontlines if we must. I need a very, very good Healer and I need them promptly.”
You recognized Aleksander’s voice anywhere, and now that you were a bit more aware, you could tell that it was not Genya’s delicate little hand running through your hair.
It was his.
You kept your eyes closed and tried to enjoy the very minimally important action of his hand stroking your hair so gently.
“Then find someone. But I don’t think this is anything to worry about.”
That voice belonged to Genya, and you felt a sense of relief that she was still covering for you.
“Genya, do not give me excuses any longer. I know she is ill. To the extent and with what, I am unsure. But she is my dearest friend, and I will not be so easily deterred from finding a solution to her health.” He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to wake you and you felt your lip nearly wobble.
You didn’t know if you were joyful or devastated to hear him call you his friend. You longed for ignorance. You longed to think that he was here to confess his love for you, you wanted him to play with your hair like this for hours and hold you in his arms while you slept.
You wouldn’t get your wish, though.
“Sir, I think it would just be best to give her space.” Genya suggested quietly.
Aleksander’s hand stilled against your head and went rigid, “And why do you say that?” He asked coldly.
“Well, you just hardly… see her anymore. I think perhaps she’s a bit bothered by your neglect.”
“Has she told you this?”
“Yes.”
The room was silent and you wanted to sob as you felt his hand slowly leave your hair. You wanted to catch his wrist and bring it back, beg him to never let you go.
“Well, she always has been a bit of a jealous little thing. She’ll get over it. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow sometime.” He said dismissively and you felt the bed move and assumed he had climbed off of it.
You waited until you heard him leave to open your eyes and you let out a long, ragged sigh. You felt the bed dip beside you and Genya was placing her hand against your forehead. She let out a little hum and then shook her head.
“You’re very lucky I managed to clean everything up before he came barging in here.” She said softly and reached down to grab your hand.
Tears welled up in your eyes and you blinked them away, shrugging.
“At some point we need to tell him what’s going on, Y/n.” She urged gently and then squeezed your hand as softly as possible.
You felt a little wave of gratefulness in your chest at Genya’s determined and dedicated presence and you squeezed her hand back, “Eventually.” You murmured and then closed your eyes again, still feeling exhausted.
“You sound terrible.” She noted and sat up against the headboard, resting her back against it. You very slowly rolled over and laid your head against her thigh and you sighed.
“You’re my best friend, Genya.” You murmured.
She let out a little sigh and she laid her hand on top of your head, “You really love him, don’t you?” She asked quietly.
You didn’t answer her at first. She knew the answer and so did you, but the moment you spoke it aloud, it became real and it became capable of ruining everything.
“Yes.” You finally answered in a squeak.
There was a silence that filled the air around the two of you and you felt her lean over the edge of the bed for a moment. When she settled back in her spot, she tapped your head very gently and cleared her throat.
“I found something. While you were sleeping.” She said almost nervously.
“What do you mean, ‘something’?” You asked and stared off at the wall ahead of you.
“I mean about your… condition.” She said quietly and you could hear her flipping through a book above you.
Finally, she laid the open book down in front of your face and you reached up with a shaking hand to grab it. You sat up slowly with a bit of her help and laid the book in your lap as you peered down at it. The pages were old and weathered but the drawings were clear as can be. Roses were sketched onto the page and you ran your fingers over the paper as you read the text next to it.
‘In extreme cases of unrequited love, the affected person will become sick with envy and begin to exhibit signs of serious illness…’
You blinked a few times and read through the recorded symptoms.
Every single one was something you were experiencing.
“No. Absolutely not.” You breathed and looked up at a frowning Genya.
“The symptoms are all there. This is what’s ailing you.” She said, her eyes growing watery.
“Genya-“
“I’ll spare you the heavy reading. There is no cure, not unless he confesses his true and honest love for you.”
You felt dread add itself to your already sore chest and you turned your head to look up at her.
“Oh.”
She brought her hands up and cupped your cheeks and she shook her head, “I swear, we won’t let you die. We will find a way. Me and Baghra, Saints, I’ll even tell Him-“
“You can’t tell him.” You whispered and looked up at her tearfully, “You have to swear to me that you will not tell him. Genya, I’m begging you. Let him just… let him be happy with his Sun Summoner. He’ll forget about me, he’s already beginning to.” You said and sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes.
Tears were falling down the redhead’s cheeks now and she shook her head, “No, this isn’t how it ends.” She said sternly and wiped her own eyes with the backs of her hands after she lowered them from your face.
You leaned your head against her shoulder and closed your eyes, “I’m so tired.” You whispered, feeling exhaustion course through your body at a rapid rate.
“Sleep, sweetheart. Please. I’ll stay here with you until morning.” Genya promised and you nodded.
She helped you lay back onto the pillow behind you and she tucked the comforter around your shoulders before feeling your forehead once again.
“Thank you for being so good to me.” You whispered and she gave you a heartbreakingly sad smile.
“What are friends for?”
-
The next morning was excruciating. A terrible coughing fit roused you from your sleep and you’d- yet again- made a bloody, flowery mess all over. This time, you helped Genya clean the mess up despite her protests. Once she’d helped you clean up, she announced that she had a hot bath drawn for you.
You followed her into your bathroom and pulled your clothes off before you stepped into the hot water and let out a long, relieved sigh as you sunk down into it and sat.
“I need to go tend to the Queen for a little while. I shouldn’t be too long. Will you be okay if I leave for just a few hours? If you need anything, I’ve already informed Baghra of your condition, you can go find her.” She explained and then gave you a little smile.
“You’ve been busy this morning.” You commented and she shrugged.
“Well, I’m just making sure you’ll be alright while we figure this all out.” She said softly and patted your head a few times, “Well, off I go. Please, please be careful. And if you have a coughing fit, do it over the tub. We can drain the water easily.” She said, half joking.
You bid her farewell and she left your room and you sank deeper into the water, letting it soothe your sore muscles, though it didn’t do much for your stinging throat and aching chest. You brought a hand to your forehead and you felt a wave of melancholia drag you down.
There was really no way that you were going to get out of this alive. It wasn’t like Aleksander was going to burst in on his knees and confess that he’d loved you the entire time, and you highly doubted that if a Healer couldn’t help you, then you were beyond help. You rubbed your temples very slowly and let out a very long, exasperated sigh, which triggered a few coughs. Little droplets of blood flew forward into the water from your mouth and you winced as a few petals loosed themselves from your throat as well. They floated atop the hot water and you picked one of the soft, pink petals up tentatively. It looked like a rose petal. It was a rose petal. You were grateful that it was only a few soft petals this time rather than the thorns and stems you’d cough up other times. You dropped the petal back in the water and you laid your head back against the edge of the bathtub weakly.
Your chin wobbled slightly and you closed your eyes just as tears started to stream out of them. You soundlessly cried as you sat in the steaming water and you reached up to hold your hands over your face as you cried. Soon enough, your cries were no longer soundless and you sobbed into your hands. Your whole entire body hurt and you were in agony. Emotional and physical agony. You wished for it all to stop and you pulled your hands away from your face and gripped the edges of the tub as you continued to cry with your eyes squeezed shut in pain.
Your mind wandered to Aleksander, something it often did, and you gasped painfully. You could practically feel his fingers running through your hair again, and you pictured what it would have been like if he had gathered you in his slender arms instead of just messing with your hair. The thought brought you a split second of comfort before it brought on waves of pain, crashing against your chest like rogue waves in a tumultuous ocean.
Oh, you loved him. You couldn’t just stop loving him. Even though you sat and wished so desperately that you could. You gripped the edges of the tub impossibly tight and sputtered out a few heavy coughs that left your chest feeling split open. Your bathwater was tinged pink now and there was an arrangement of fragmented and full rose petals floating around in the water.
A little tap made you open your eyes and you looked up to see Aleksander standing in the doorway of your bathroom. You made a move to cover yourself but he simply shook his head.
“I’m not looking, it’s okay.” He stated, staying in the doorway.
You glanced away from him sadly and you gave him a nod. You heard his boots tap against the marble floor and you heard a bit of rustling before you turned your head towards him again to see that he was now kneeling at the side of your tub.
“You look terrible. Really, really terrible.” He commented.
“Thanks. You really know how to make someone feel great, Aleksander.” You snapped and narrowed your eyes at him.
He let out a sigh and shook his head a few times, “You’re still lovely. You just look miserable. Have you looked in a mirror recently? You look malnourished, you look poorly rested. Your face is sunken, your eyes are lifeless, you look terrible.” He explained and you laid your head down on the edge of the tub.
“I’ll be fine.” You said nonchalantly.
“Yeah, you all keep trying to tell me that but I don’t believe it all that much. Look at you. You can’t even move without it looking like it’s causing you pain.”
“What do you care?” You asked and closed your eyes, biting back a sob.
“What do I care? What do I care? Are you an imbecile? I care more than you seem to even care to imagine!” He snapped angrily and stood up abruptly.
“Whatever. I know you’d rather be with your Sun Summoner right now. Please just go.”
“Saints, you’re such a bitter thing! You knew what the Sun Summoner coming here would mean. You know what it does mean. Get over yourself, this is bigger than you and your need for attention!” He exclaimed.
Though he hadn’t, you felt as if he’d lifted you to your feet and slapped you until you fell. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him. Your eyes grew glossy with tears and you bit down on your cheek before you shifted your eyes away from a seething Aleksander.
“Please just go away.” You whimpered and brought your hands up to your face, hiding it from his sight.
You cried silently for a moment and you rubbed your eyes vigorously before lifting your head out of your hands to tell him once more to leave.
But he was already gone.
-
The week leading up to the winter fete was exhausting.
Not that you had been doing much other than laying around in your room and taking brief walks whenever Genya had a moment to accompany you outside.
Nothing had improved though.
You were still weak, still coughing, still in pain. Nothing was better, in fact, it seemed to only worsen by the day.
The day of the fete was upon you and you had argued with Genya for nearly two hours so that she’d let you go. Finally, she had conceded and told you that you could go as long as you left early and were very, very careful not to cough around anyone.
“And if you start feeling worse, you’re going right back to bed. Do you understand me?” Genya asked critically as she held a big, white box to her chest. Your dress. She was holding it hostage until you agreed to her terms.
“Yes, fine, anything! I’ve waited so long to go.” You weren’t sure why you were so excited to go to the fete. You had previously been excited to go because you’d be going with Aleksander, but of course, that wasn’t the case now. You hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. Genya told you he’d been in to check on you while you slept, but you doubted it. You doubted a lot when it came to Aleksander these last seven days.
Genya set the box down on a small table near the fireplace in your room and she opened it up, humming softly to herself as she did, “Pink? I didn’t pin you as a pink girl.”
“Well, I am one. And it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You asked and watched as she pulled the gown out from the box.
It was beautiful. It was a pale shade of blush pink with long sleeves and lots of beautiful embroidery and bead work. The dress earned you an approving sound from Genya and she looked over at you as you sat on the edge of your bed.
“It is pretty, yes. I’m a bit worried you’ll stain it.” She said and eyed you with a frown, “Are you sure you want to go? You’re still so sick. Worse, even.” She said with a frown as she walked towards you and laid the dress out on the bed at your side.
“I want to go. We can go together. Besides, I’ve been stuck in here for so long now.” You said, sighing dramatically. Your throat burned with your sigh and Genya watched as you brought your fingers to your throat.
She quickly grabbed the waste bin next to your bed and held it up to you and you grabbed it. You coughed over it painfully for a few minutes, an array of petals and a few small thorns freeing themselves from your inflicted lungs. Genya held her hand against your back comfortingly and waited for you to spit the last of the sticky blood out and then she gently took the waste bin from your hands. She passed you a glass of water from your bedside table and you sipped it, even though it felt like you were swallowing broken glass.
“Y/n, you look awful.” Genya said sadly and pushed some of your limp hair away from your face.
You knew she was right. Your entire face had sunken in and you were aware of the dark circles under your eyes. Any luster your hair or skin once had was now gone and you looked dull and lifeless. You looked almost like a walking corpse. Your nails were thin and brittle and your lips were chapped and had traces of dried blood on them. You did look awful.
Realistically, you could use your abilities and make yourself look better, but you had absolutely no energy to do so. You were lucky if you had the energy to get up and take a walk with Genya. You sighed quietly and wiped your lips with the back of your hand and shrugged once. You shakily passed the glass of water back to Genya and you rubbed your eyes.
“Will you help me get ready? Nothing fancy, I just don’t wanna look so unhealthy.” You asked quietly and she nodded a couple of times.
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and then offered her hands down towards you. You accepted them gratefully and pulled yourself to your feet with her help and she passed you your dress.
“Go change, I’ll help you button up.” She prompted and you took the dress from her and wandered off towards the dressing screen in the corner of your room.
You slid behind it and undressed yourself with weak, shaking hands, and you pushed your nightdress off of your body. You tossed it aside and then took on the next task of stepping into the soft pink gown. You climbed into the dress clumsily and once you’d pulled the sleeves on and gotten it situated on your body, you wandered out from behind the screen. Genya awaited you by your bed and you made your way over to her and turned around so that the undone back of your dress faced her.
“You need to promise me one more thing.” Genya said quietly as she began to button up your dress nimbly.
“What is it?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder at the redheaded girl.
“Avoid the Darkling at all costs tonight please. Your condition worsens after he’s around, I’ve seen it. Please just, don’t seek him out, stay away from him. Have fun, mingle, have a drink, but leave him alone. For your sake, please.” She begged softly and then finished buttoning your dress.
You nodded compliantly and you ran your hands down the front of your dress, smoothing it all down before turning around to face her. You smiled up at her and she pointed at a chair in the middle of the room.
“Sit. I’ll fix up your hair and make you look a little less tired.” She said softly and you walked towards the chair. You sat down in it and you closed your eyes, a prickling becoming bothersome at the back of your throat. You swallowed it down and winced at the sharp pain sliding back down your throat.
You just had to get through tonight.
Genya stood behind you and she worked at your hair for a while until it was in simple waves. She then walked around to face you and she determinedly waved her hand over your face a few times slowly. After nearly fifteen minutes of this, she pulled away from you and handed you a hand mirror.
“I did all that I could. How do you feel about it?” She asked.
You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hummed. Though you still looked frail, you didn’t look nearly even half as bad as you had beforehand. You looked as if perhaps you hadn't slept in a few days but otherwise you seemed healthy. You looked up at her with a smile and you nodded, passing the mirror back to her.
“Thank you. Truly, thank you.” You said softly and she gave you a sweet smile in return and kissed the top of your head.
“I have to help the Queen get ready. Will you wait for me? I’ll come back and accompany you to the party.”
You looked over at her and gave her a little nod and stood up from the chair you sat in. You gave your friend a little hug and she hugged you back delicately, as if she was afraid you’d break.
“Thank you. Really, Genya. For everything.”
“Don’t start talking like that. It almost sounds like goodbye and I won’t have it. I’ll see you in an hour or two.” She stated and then marched out of your room.
Goodbye. You scoffed. You didn’t even want to think about goodbye yet.
But of course now you were faced with the reality of it all. There was no obtainable cure to your ailment. The thought of it spread dread through your body like you’d never felt before and you felt even sicker than you ever had prior to today.
A particular wave of nausea had you sprinting to the waste bin by your bed and you dropped to your knees and retched into it, your throat getting sliced up with an especially sharp slew of blood and thorns and a few battered petals. The door behind you opened and you heard a gasp from the doorway and wiped your face with the back of your hand before you turned around.
Still on your knees, you looked up to see Aleksander’s personal favorite Healer, Emilia, standing in the doorway. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before she walked towards you and gently helped you to your feet. She looked over your shoulder into the wastebasket and then she looked up at your face, her mouth making a little ‘o’. She glanced back in the bin and then she shook her head.
“Are those…?”
“Yes. They’re petals. Why are you here?” You asked and slowly sat down on the edge of your bed.
“The Darkling sent me to check on you.” She whispered and then she placed her hand on your head, feeling your temperature.
“Genya is doing a fine job on her own, thank you, Emilia.” You wheezed and then leaned your head into your hands.
She stayed put for a moment and looked back and forth between you and your bloody, flowery vomit and then she gave you a tedious nod, “Yes, okay. I’m sorry to have intruded.“ she said quietly and you gave her only a small hum in response before she scuttled out of the room, retreating as if you were some feral dog, before you could even think to stop her. You would have certainly been wise to.
You glanced at the door and felt a cold, sick dread fill your stomach. She was going to tell Aleksander.
-
You sat, slumped, in the chair by your fireplace and you closed your eyes, letting out labored breaths. Your chest had become impossibly tight and you sat in fear that Aleksander would burst in and berate you at any moment now.
Your eyes filled with tears at the thought of just Aleksander and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It wasn’t like you couldn’t miss him. He was, at the end of the day, your best friend. Or at least, he had been. You didn’t really know where you stood with him now.
Panic gripped your lungs when you heard hurried footsteps down the hallway and when the door swung open you winced. No yelling ensued and you turned around to see Genya standing in the doorway, gazing over at you with a little frown.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” She asked softly as she strode towards you.
You simply gave her a little nod and you rose to your feet off of the chair and grabbed onto the hand she was now extending for you. She helped you steady yourself and she frowned once, pulling you into a gentle side hug.
“Okay. The party has already started, I hope you don’t mind. There was a… choreographed display. Of shadow and light.” She explained slowly and then glanced down at you. You knew who she was talking about. Aleksander and Alina.
She gave you a sympathetic smile and you realized your face must have fallen, “I just figured you didn’t want to have to watch them.”
“No, I appreciate it. Thank you, Genya.” You said quietly and then nodded towards the door, “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out long tonight, I don’t think.” You murmured, a frown ever present on your face.
She nodded just once and whisked you out of your room. The walk from the Little Palace to the Grand Palace was made in comfortable silence and you leaned your head against Genya’s shoulder. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and gently patted your arm, and you let out a small sigh. As soon as the two of you walked inside of the Grand Palace, you instantly regretted coming to the fete.
People were crowded around the hallway and spilled out from the room of the event, leaving you hardly any space to breathe. You wrapped both of your arms around Genya’s and you nearly buckled under the wave of nausea that crashed over you.
Genya slowly pulled away from your side and she grabbed your hand and nodded towards the grand hall, “I’m going to go get a drink. Would you like one?” You nodded idly and she gave your hand a little squeeze, “Okay. Stay here. Don’t get around too many people.” She advised and you nodded again.
She scurried off hurriedly down the hall and you looked down at your dress. You ran your fingers down the embroidered bodice and you let out a little sigh. You sorely regretted not staying in bed and you looked around at the other partygoers. Some were drunk, others were just boisterous. Most hid their sordidness underneath fine clothes and expensive perfumes. You looked down at your feet and felt guilty for making Genya drag you to the party and you turned to go find her.
“Y/n!”
You turned around to see Alina bustling towards you with two guards in tow behind her. You had to blink back the urge to cry when you saw her. She wore a black kefta with yellow and gold embroidery and her hair was done up beautifully. The nausea hit you harder and you held your hand over your stomach instinctively, giving her a terse smile.
“Hello.” You breathed and leaned back up against the wall behind you.
“You look beautiful.” She commented sweetly, “Feeling better?” She asked and you gave her a bleary nod.
“Mhm, so much better.” You mumbled and sucked in a deep breath through your nose. A sharp feeling began to climb the back of your throat and you began to panic.
“I’m glad to hear, you look so pretty. I’ve missed you readying me.” She admitted and then chuckled nervously.
One of the guards leaned forward and mumbled something in her ear and she frowned, but nodded.
“I have to get going. But please, come see me tomorrow.” She pleaded and you gave her a simple nod, your throat and chest beginning to ache and burn all the same.
The guards urged her forward and everything began to sound as if you were underwater. You stared off absentmindedly after Alina and frowned deeply. Aleksander strode down the hall towards her and his eyes fell upon you. His stern expression seemed to falter a bit when he looked at you and you glanced down at the bundle of flowers he had in his hands. Your eyes filled with tears involuntarily and you watched as he stopped the guards that stood with Alina and he passed her the flowers before he locked eyes with you again.
Your face burned with shame and sadness and your vision began to blur and shift and you pushed away from the wall dizzily, ignoring the muffled shouts of your name coming from his mouth. You shoved past a few people and gathered the skirts of your dress up in one hand and you rushed down the hallway. You stopped briefly a few times to steady yourself against the wall and you felt a sickening pressure at the back of your throat. You just had to make it back to your room.
You carried on almost deliriously and you made your way into the nearly totally empty Little Palace. You bustled up the stairs with your hand over your mouth when a sharp cough ripped its way up your throat and you heaved forward, falling to your knees on the stairs as you coughed violently. Tears burned in your eyes and fell down your cheeks helplessly as you spewed the hot, metallic mixture of your blood and bile over your gloved hand. You crawled up the stairs weakly and you pushed yourself to your feet, leaving a bloody smear on the marble floor. You stumbled hurriedly down the hall to your room and you threw your door open as soon as you could. You fell to your knees again and let out a long, sad wail before you were coughing out thorns and petals all over the pristine skirt of your dress.
The flowery vomit looked even worse tonight, and the blood mixed in with it was darker and there was much more of it. You coughed and heaved and choked on whatever was in your throat until an entire rose bloom came hurtling out of your mouth. You stared down at it shakily and reached out to touch it before you coughed again, much harder this time. Blood flew from your open mouth all over your carpet and your dress and your chin and you cried loudly, lowering yourself to the floor weakly. You reached up shakily to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and you looked around at the bloody mess you had made and you whimpered.
You thought about Aleksander again as you coughed more, your chest feeling as if it was going to collapse at any moment. You missed him. You desperately wished it was you that he gave his affections to. You loved him. It became impossibly hard to breathe and you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you could swear you heard him calling out for you; Something so bittersweet that brought you so much comfort as you laid in a mess of your own blood and shredded flower petals. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel cold exhaustion climbing up around your mind. You could still hear his voice, closer now. You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but at least you could try and make peace with it. You drew in a labored breath and then found yourself gasping in fear as you felt two hands grip your arms.
You were yanked up against somebody and you slowly looked upwards to see Aleksander kneeling over you, holding you against his chest.
“Say something, dammit!” He ordered, but his voice sounded far away.
You tried to speak his name but your chest seemed to collapse in on itself and you turned your head to cough away from him, not wanting to get any blood on him. As soon as you finished coughing, he gripped your chin and turned your head towards his and he stared down at you wildly.
“Y/n, I really, really need you to say something.” He pleaded and you weren’t sure if you were imagining the glint of unshed tears in his eyes or not.
You let out another wail and you tried to push away from him, but his arms were like steel around you and you were too weak to even attempt to get away from him, so you resigned to crying in his arms.
“Aleksander.” You wheezed and weakly grabbed onto the lapel of his kefta.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” He demanded and cradled you gently against his chest.
“You don’t care!” You cried, finding your very, very weak voice suddenly.
“I do care!”
“You don’t! You just care about Alina, you want Alina, you need Alina, you’re in love with Alina. You don’t care, and I don’t expect you to. Why should you? It’s my own miserable fault for falling in love with you.” You sobbed and felt as if you were going to vomit again.
Aleksander didn’t say a single word. Instead, he leaned down until his forehead was touching yours and he nudged his nose against yours just slightly. You fought to get away from him, but he didn’t allow you to move. He shushed you softly as you cried and attempted to get as far away from him as possible and you sobbed, grabbing at his wrists.
“Stop! Please just leave me alone! I can’t take this.” You cried and hit his chest, but he still didn’t move.
Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled and eventually stopped trying to get away from him. He seemed to want to make it hard for you until your bitter end. One of his hands was gently moving through your hair as it had many nights ago and you whimpered, a sound that broke his heart.
“I care. More than you know, little love.” He murmured and kept his forehead pressed against yours, “You think I don’t care? How could I not? You are so special to me.”
You cried and subconsciously leaned into his touch as he ran his fingers through your hair.
“Please stop.” You begged. You wanted to cover your ears.
“Stop what? Do you not want to hear how I care? How I feel ashamed of myself for making you feel as if I don’t? Do you not want to hear about how in love with you I am?” He asked in a whisper and you froze. His hand continued to sweep through your hair and you let out a loud cry and struggled against his arms as he lifted his forehead away from yours.
“You’re lying.” You sobbed and brought your hands up to your face as you cried into them.
“I’d never lie to you about something like this.” He insisted softly.
“You are lying.”
“How can you accuse me of that?” He asked, his tone incredulous.
“Because I’m dying! I’m dying and you know it’s what I want to hear!” You argued, but you let your head fall against his chest nonetheless.
“I don’t lie. I’ve never lied to you. Saints, you’re inconsolable. I have my own reasons for getting close to Alina, but none of them are even close to being because I’m in love with her. No, my love is saved for you and you alone.” He murmured, “I have loved you for years. Ages. For so long, hoping and praying that perhaps you’d see me in the same light one day. I never wished for it to be like this.” He finished, voice breaking just slightly at the end.
You felt the tightness in your chest ease up just a little bit and you pulled your head away from his chest so that you could look up at him, only to find him already gazing down at you. You studied his face for any sign that he might be lying to you and when you found none you leaned your head against the side of his arm. You weakly nuzzled your cheek against it and you could hear him let out a long sigh.
“Are you going to tell me what is wrong with you? Or are you just going to leave that to my Healer relaying information to me?” He asked and you shrugged once, more pressure leaving your chest.
You let out a pathetic sounding sigh and you clung to him as if someone was going to take him from you and you quietly began to explain your condition to him, leaving little to nothing out. When you finished, the silence around the two of you was painful and you looked up at his face. He seemed angry and he seemed as if he was going to cry, but he looked down and met your eyes, and everything on his face melted into sadness.
“I did this to you?” He asked quietly and you shook your head.
“You couldn’t possibly have known. I mean, I didn’t. None of us did until Genya found it in a book.” You murmured and he gathered you entirely against his chest.
“I’m so, so sorry.” He breathed, his voice practically trembling.
“No, please. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, everything is okay now.” You said hoarsely and he shook his head once but didn’t argue further.
He stayed quiet for a moment before he sniffled and then slowly rose to his feet, pulling you with him, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? And then you can lay in my room.” He suggested quietly.
“Okay.” You whispered, leaning against him entirely.
-
You sat in Aleksander’s bed an hour or two later, wrapped in a few thick blankets. You watched him scurry around his room as he tried to ready himself for bed and you smiled affectionately. After a moment he turned to you and let out a small sigh.
“What are you smiling at? You should be sleeping.”
“Can’t. Not without you.” You murmured and he blew out a few candles in the room before he came and crawled into bed next to you, his arms snaking around your waist. He tugged you against his chest protectively and he let out a long sigh.
Your damp hair was splayed out over the pillow behind your head and you pushed it away from him, clearing a little space for his head on your pillow. He took the hint and scooted his face closer to yours and he nudged his nose against yours a few times.
“You looked so beautiful tonight. In the hallway. In your pretty dress. I think pink might be your color now.” He said sweetly and you shook your head, leaning in to peck his lips a few times.
He took the opportunity to capture your lips in a deep, long kiss and finally when the two of you were properly breathless, you pulled away and shook your head.
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! non-grisha! reader
Summary: It was so easy for you to fall for the Black General. It took him one visit to the library in the Grand Palace to catch your eye and make you fantasise about him - a dangerous, mysterious ancestor of the Black Heretic. But that was all that could happen between you two... fantasy, daydreaming, or dreaming at midnight in the privacy of your chamber. He was the strongest of all Grishas, and you… you were just a librarian woman. But maybe your fantasies and huge/little crush on Darkling can turn into something much more?
Requested by: @dreampissybaby It took me ages, but I hope you'll like it! 😅🩵🖤
Word Count: 8,2k
Taglist: @aoi-targaryen
~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
You put the books on the shelves, staring at the landscape outside the window. It was winter. The snow fell slowly, glistening in the sunlight. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the shadows slowly taking over the part of the library you were in. It was only when they blocked the view through the window, creating a black curtain, that you realised you were no longer alone.
You squealed, surprised, as your back was suddenly turned to the shelf and pinned against it as a certain man crashed his lips into yours hungrily, giving you no time to say anything.
You moaned into General Kirigan's mouth and tangled your hands in his snow-covered hair as he held you trapped between his strong, well-built body and the bookshelf, tasting you greedily with a passion you had never felt before. And each brush of his lips against yours only felt more intense.
"I was thinking about you for a whole blody month. I couldn't sit through a single meeting without thinking about those enticing lips and the things I want to do to you when I finally return." he whispers, kissing your forehead.
He strokes your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs and studies your face carefully, looking for any changes that may have occurred in the month he's been away.
"You came back earlier. I didn't even hear any sounds of horses from the courtyard or whispers among the maids that you were back with your Grishas." you say, stroking his hair messed by the air. You notice that he still has a few snowflakes in them and giggle at how this dangerous man looks so cute with the snow in his hair, black cloak, and red nose.
"I could have left Ivan in charge of the rest and set off earlier myself. They should be here tomorrow. I left them as I saw the walls of Little Palace, and actually, I saw them in the distance from the tower when I was running here." he admits, and you're pretty sure the blush on his cheeks isn't due to the change in temperature. However, you decided to ignore it and not tease him about his obvious embarrassment.
"Come. We need to warm you up. We wouldn't want the general to get sick and be more grumpy to his soldiers only because he wanted to see a girl earlier."
"But what a beauty she is."
Before you can even answer him, his now slightly warmer lips crash against yours, stealing your breath. You moan as he pushes you onto the windowsill. Your back, cushioned by his hand, hits the cool window as he kisses you, as if trying to make up for the month of separation with his one (or maybe more) kiss.
"Next time, I'm taking you with me so I can claim what's mine whenever I want." he pulls away for a moment to whisper before capturing your lips again. You smile, pulling him closer to you by the black fur on his coat.
"Aleksander..." you moan as your lips part and his hand travels under your dress, caressing your leg and making you shiver, both from the cold air and the electric touch of his skin on yours.
"So distracting, so teasing... my little Otkazat'sya, who is constantly occupying my every thought when I should be focusing on the possible war to come. The saints know you will be my sweet undoing."
Your hands land on the collar of his kefta under his coat, and you slowly move them along his chest, unbuttoning his kefta and shirt. You are caressing every newly exposed bit of his skin with your hands, not ashamed of the desire to touch, and caressing every single part of your general...
"Your man came here." your colleague taps you on the shoulder, taking you out of your 'reading', and nods towards the main aisle.
You turn your gaze away from the book, which was only your excuse anyway, thanks to which you could freely indulge in your fantasies. You take a quick glance at the general.
"Shush!" you hiss at her, checking if the general didn't hear her. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that his attention was completely focused on the bookshelves. "He might have heard you. Besides, he's not my man."
"You better tell him that. Every time he comes here, he asks specially about you. That means something." she teases you as you put the book back on the shelf.
"That means nothing. It's just that I know most of the books on military tactics from my father and brother, so only from me he can find out where exactly it is. I doubt anyone else in this library would understand which book he's looking for." you brush her comment off and walk over to the general, who was looking at the titles of the books on the shelves.
"Good morning. How can I help you this time, general?" you smile politely, trying to fight the stupid fluttering of your heart you had around him. As well as the dirty thoughts that tormented you about this unfairly handsome man.
You thanked saints every time you talked to him, for that he wasn't a heartrender and couldn't hear your traitorous, stupid heart racing fast each time you were in his presence.
You take a moment to study his face, noticing that the dark circles under his eyes have increased slightly over the course of the week. His eyes, although still shining in their characteristic, even mischievous way, are cloudier and more tired. And if you could, you would comfort this over-busy man, or at least try to provide him with some sense of comfort.
But you can't. All you can do is watch him from a distance.
So you do so. You study every bit of his face carefully, allowing yourself to do so when he talks to you about a book, and you pretend to listen to him, right after you heard the title of the familiar book he was looking for.
After all, you didn't want to waste his time… or give him any suspicion that you were taking every possible moment to admire him.
You know that your infatuation and dreams are stupid and that nothing more will ever happen between you two than a polite conversation and maybe the exchange of a few observations about books. But you can't help but imagine how wonderful it would be to kiss his tempting lips, cup his bearded cheek in your hand, or run your hand through his dark brown hair.
Just as his soft voice is no longer heard in your ears, you come back to reality, and it takes all your strength to look away from his too-perfect (for your stupid heart's sake) face and focus on the books on the shelves.
"This is a basic position. You should have it in your book collections." you say, running your finger along the spines of the books and looking for the one he needs.
If you had turned around at that moment, you would have seen a blush spreading across his cheeks as he looked around nervously and cleared his throat, trying to think of an excuse.
"To be honest... my personal library is not kept in such an... order. It's much easier and faster to come here. A nice company is also an additional benefit, as also the opportunity to break away from reports, plans, and other annoying papers."
"And here I thought that soldiers usually kept order around themselves. Especially the general of the whole army." you tease him with a smile and hand him the book he was looking for. His fingers brush against yours briefly, making you shiver.
"I found it hard to keep everything in order in the thought process. Especially lately when so many things which are on my head."
"So I guess your library is pretty messy." you smile as you hear his soft chuckle after your comment.
Everything about this man was ethereal. Starting with his appearance and ending with the way he carried himself. With pride and power radiating from him, which made everyone show respect, awe and fear for him.
Some invisible electric force was pulling you towards him—something inexplicable that only a few people could resist. And you definitely weren't one of them.
Like a moth to a flame. - you think mockingly, knowing that everything he represented was darkness and danger. But you could see more than his shadows. Something that didn't let you put him out of your mind so easily.
"That's putting it mildly." he says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You lick your lips and nod, laughing a bit.
"Maybe you should find someone who will clean up this mess for you. It would be a shame if the general of the Second Army got lost under the piles of his own books." you say, expecting to hear another burst of laughter from him.
But that didn't happen. Instead, his gaze lingered on you, as if he was searching your eyes for some kind of answer. You stared, hypnotised, into his dark irises until he finally saw something in your eyes that made him take a step towards you.
"Are you offering?" he whispers, making you shiver as you try to hold his intense gaze.
The fact that he's close enough that you can smell his cologne, his intoxicating scent, and his warmth, which is nothing like your fantasies, makes it even harder for you to string together a coherent sentence.
"Maybe I am." you whisper back, not sure if he understood it as a statement or a question.
But judging by the way he leaned towards you, slowly closing the distance between you and your lips with each small movement, you think he rather understood your intentions...
And just when you think he's finally going to end this torment—when he's going to lean down and catch your lips in a passionate, tender kiss and pin you to the bookshelves like he already did in your dreams, too many times for you to remember—you two hear somebody calling him.
You are the first to break eye contact, shift your gaze to the shelves next to you, and step away from him, even though every cell in your body screams with the need to be close to him.
"It looks like I have to go." he says. It clears your throat and catches your eye again. His dark eyes are focused entirely on you as he decides to make his move and adds, "I shall be waiting for you tonight if you are still offering your help. I could really use it." he says, ignoring the footsteps approaching the alley.
"Well, I shall meet you then, general." you answer instantly and with a little flirtatious tone before you can think about it or get scared and change your mind.
He gives you such a wonderful, charming smile that it convinces you that he was created by the saints themselves. Your heart skips a beat as he leans down and presses a such gentle kiss to your hand that you have to focus very much to feel his lips on your skin.
"I shall be expecting you then, milaya." he says, and you think he winks at you before turning around just as one of his Grishas comes into view.
They walk away together quickly, the man explaining something to him in a hurry, but all you see is him stealing a quick glance at you before disappearing around the bend into the main alley.
"Milaya?" you whisper to yourself, frowning.
And before you can think it through, you rush to the old Ravkan dictionaries to find this concrete word he used, ready to endure your friend's teasing when you tell her you think you have a date with the general of the Second Army.
"I told you I didn't want to be disturbed." he says slightly angry, after they return from the training field, where the young Inferni have started a fight with the Squallers and started a damn fire. Aleksander frowned as he felt the soot harden on the sleeve of his kefta.
"My apologies, General, but that was an important matter." Grisha, who interrupted his conversation with Y/N, explains himself as they enter his chambers, straight to the war room.
"Next time, you can only come to me if a Little Palace is set on fire, not some field. And even then, it will be better if you find some tidemaker to extinguish the fire. Understand, Captain?" he asks madly and sits down at his desk. He sighs when he sees the new papers that Ivan must have delivered to him in his absence.
"Yes, sir." he sees Grisha nods nervously. He rubs his eyes and sighs, seeing that his hands are also black with soot.
"Bring Fedyor here. And Ivan. I need someone reasonable." he mutters and gets up to go to the bathroom and get rid of any traces of fighting the fire. "And make sure the kids show up for their night training with Baghra. That should calm them down and keep them busy... at least for a while."
Grisha salutes him and leaves as quickly as he can. Aleksander rolls his eyes and looks in the mirror, cleaning his face. He returns to his desk and looks over the reports Ivan brought. After a few minutes, his heartrenders appear.
"You wanted to see us, sir." Ivan says this, standing in front of his desk. Fedyor is next to him, looking at the general. He frowns at seeing the messy state he is in.
"I have a task for you." he says, and he signs some orders. "First of all, please explain to me how the Little Palace was almost set on fire when I was only a few minutes away?" Ivan swallows and wants to say something, but Fedyor comes first.
"Zoya is on a mission. The kids felt too... carefree in someone else's care. But I assure you, General, that after today, it is unlikely to happen again. I heard them say on their way here that they had never been so afraid in their lives. Besides, they're just kids. Good thing the tidemakers were close. As soon as Zoya returns, she will definitely teach them a life lesson."
He nods, deciding to deal with this matter another time. "Were you able to gather the information I needed, Fedyor?"
"Yes, sir. Y/F/F. These flowers are waiting in the conservatory; you can pick them up and give them to her whenever you want." before Aleksander can scold him for making such bold assumptions, Fedyor continues. "Oh, right, I forgot. David is finishing the necklace you ordered. With her favourite gem, of course. But we have a serious problem, General. People are talking."
"They always talk. What exactly do they have in mind this time?" he clears his throat, trying to ignore how the heartrender so easily suggests his blatant infatuation of Y/N. He decides to remain silent. After all, Fedyor was the best... informant regarding Y/N. And his help was necessary in this case...
Although he liked Ivan's company more, it was Fedyor who was mainly responsible for them both being together, and that means he was more useful in his little mission. How two heartrenders got together—even Darkling didn't know exactly—but he desperately needed all of Fedyor's advice after his own attempts to woo you had failed.
He may have been handsome and had many women vying for his attention, but since Luda... he hadn't really courted anyone. No one was important enough. No one had broken through the wall of his heart created by Luda's death. When he decided that he had buried too many people close to him to endure another death, another loss.
And then you appeared. An ordinary human, not even Grisha. And he fell for you fast, hard, and suddenly, and despite his better judgement, he gave in to this need to be in your presence. And every day, he wanted much more. Irronicaly, he was too nervous around you to finally make a move. Or at least one that will be clear to you and provide him with your… reciprocity of his feelings.
And Fedyor had too much fun helping him to 'get a girl'. Just like teasing the general, who put up with his taunts as long as his advice worked. At least Ivan was here to stop his lover when he walked on the thin line of the general's patience.
"They are… interesting why our general is so often a guest in the Grand Palace… a library, to be precise."
"And? Is it something wrong? Can't I use Ravka's book resources?
It was a weak excuse. Aleksander knew this. But she won't admit his feelings... especially not to Fedyor.
"It's not like I'm going there just to look at her." he adds, mumbling under his breath as his attention is fully focused on the report in front of him. He wanted to finish this as soon as possible to prepare for your visit.
"And with all due respect, moi soverenyi, what exactly are you doing there?"
Aleksander hears Ivan kick Fedyor in the ankle as Heartrender asks him this question. He smiles to himself and finishes writing the last report.
"None of your worries." he says and hands the completed papers with his directions and orders to Ivan. "I'm unavailable for the rest of the day. Only matters of the utmost importance, and I only accept these messages from you two; keep any incompetent soldiers away from me; I had enough of them today."
His thoughts wander back to that moment where he almost managed to kiss Y/N. If it weren't for that damn soldier… his mind wanders to all the possibilities of how his visit could end.
"It really worked? She comes here?" Aleksander wonders if he should be offended by the incredulous tone he used.
"She is. That's why I hope I won't be disturbed anymore. At least not with trivial matters that can be taken care of without my interference and that I can find out about the next morning."
"Does she know she's staying until the morning, sir?"
"Fedyor." Ivan hisses at him, furious, unsure how much longer the general can take it.
Aleksander swallows, embarrassed. He can't help but wonder if you'll be as willing as he is to extend your overnight visit into the next day… or two.
"General, your heart is beating faster. Do you need any help?"
Fedyor smiles, half-malicious, half-happy to see the general melt at every thought of you. You completely swept him off his feet, and he didn't even have a second to defend himself. It was refreshing to see him so... lost in his feelings for you.
"Ivan, get your other half out of my sight before I send him to West Ravka, right through the fold, without any light or Inferni with him." Fedyor tries his hardest to stop smiling at his words. Ivan covers him and nods respectfully to the general.
"Yes, moi soverenyi."
As the door closes behind them, Fedyor laughs softly at Ivan. "Who would have thought that he of all people would choose Otkazat'sya? The one who never stayed around non-Grishas longer than necessary?"
"Do not be stupid. He definitely needs her for something else."
"You yourself heard his heartbeat. He fell head-over-heels. I have to tell Genya to make him a new kefta... preferably two, one male and one female, matching, you know, just in case."
Fedyor smiles as he sees people cleaning the corridors of the Little Palace. Their general was so obvious about his feelings that it hurt. The opinion of a heartless general effectively covered up his obvious actions.
"Why? She's not a Grisha. The general knows better than to pursue her."
"My dear, in the state our general is in now, he hardly cares about the fact that she doesn't have any powers. Besides, I know of marriages between Otkazat'sya and Grishas. There are few of them, but thanks to the sharing of life energy, the couple lives happily ever after, as long as Grisha's one doesn't die."
"Marraige? Don't go that far into the future. Even if he feels something for her, he will get over it."
"You will remember my words when he asks you to be his best man. Come on, honey, let's see what we can do for our general." Fedyor laughs and pulls Ivan towards the conservatory.
You walk through the corridors of the Little Palace, led by one of the Oprichniks, to the general's chambers. You feel weird coming here. He was usually the one who always visited you. At different times of the day in the library.
Involuntarily, you remember one of his rare nighttime visits.
You were alone in the library. You sat curled up in an armchair by the fire with a blanket around you.
You liked spending evenings in the library. It was completely silent then; you could listen to the crackling of the burning wood and get completely lost in your book.
However, lately, your thoughts have been turning more and more often around a certain general of the Second Army. Hence the book that was on your lap. "The Lives of Saints."
You've read most of the books about Grishas. About how they use their powers. About their little science. They fascinated you. Like Kirigan. At first, you were afraid of the general. He was, after all, a Black General, a descendant of the Black Heretic. But there was something... defenceless about him. Humane. Not identifying with the terrible legend circulating about him. And that little element of the common human in him drew you to this mysterious man.
You smirk to yourself as you hear the quiet footsteps you've learned to recognise as he lets you hear that he's close. You remember quite vividly how you shouted at him when he snuck up on you and almost dropped the stack of books you were holding. You don't know who was more surprised then—you or him.
"A little late for a night visit." you say, closing your book and shifting your gaze to the man walking towards you.
The smile disappears from your face when you see that he has dark bags under his eyes and is much paler than usual.
"Do I look that bad?" he asks with a laugh at your reaction. The blush on his cheeks and his less confident step make it clear that he didn't take your behaviour as carelessly as he showed.
"You look like death. What happened?" you ask, worried as he sits down in the armchair across from you.
"Tough week. I will be good. I had to come here. I... I haven't looked here for a while."
Little did you know that he wanted to say that he hadn't come for you. That he didn't come to check on you even though he wanted to, but he just didn't have time. That he had been watching you at every opportunity, hiding in the shadows. He was stopping at the library to simply look at you each time the king called him to confer with him about a possible war with the Fjerdans, which thankfully he had managed to avoid.
Now that the vision of Grishas' blood being spilled was no longer hanging over his head, he had come here—to the only shelter he had in this forgotten by the saints country on even a world.
He came to you.
"I noticed." you say and give him such a beautiful, comforting smile that this week of fighting against the king and the general of the First Army is worth the price of his nerves, sleepless nights, and the effort he put into avoiding war. This smile is a sufficient reward for all his efforts to maintain peace and security.
For Grishas, his mind screamed; he did it for his people.
For you, whispered a small voice in his head, coming from the remains of his shattered over the centuries heart. He did this to keep you safe—the only piece of his humanity he allowed himself to have. The only ramains of a man he used to be.
"You did?" he asks, swallowing. He watches you carefully, assessing your every little move and reaction.
He doesn't trust you yet... but he feels that he is getting closer to completely losing himself in your presence, which is soothing his battered soul like anything else in this world, and the warmth that radiates from you. If he didn't know you, he would think you were Inferni.
"Mhm..." you nod and start telling him about a book you read recently that he might have liked.
And he really wants to listen to you. Your voice soothed his frayed nerves and calmed the anxiety he had felt over the past few days, but as soon as he allows himself, as his head rests against the armchair, he begins to feel tired as well. And your wonderful voice, the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace, and the familiar smell of your perfume mixed with the smell of books lull him to sleep better than any lullaby.
You smiled, watching him relax in the chair and slowly fall asleep. You quietly got up from your seat and walked over to the fireplace to add a log to the fire. You took the blanket you covered yourself with and walked over to Kirigan.
Just as you were about to cover him, a strong pair of arms swept you off your feet, leaving you in the general's lap while he snuggled into you.
“So warm…” you blush when you hear his half-asleep whisper, but you don't question his actions.
You cover the two of you with a blanket, and after he settles his head comfortably on your shoulder, with his nose gently nuzzling your neck, you can't help but run a hand through his hair. And you almost moan at how soft they are. If you could, you would stroke him at every chance you got. But now you just leave a light kiss on his temple, trying to fight the hope rising in your chest, which tells you that maybe your feelings aren't so hopeless and unreciprocable after all.
Because what other reason could there be for this man, who was completely out of your league and who is currently clinging to you like it's the most normal thing in the world, than that he has feelings for you?
As if this strong, powerful man needed a shelter and could find it only in your arms...
You never talked about that night, nor did it ever happen again, but it was one of your favourite memories with him.
Surprisingly, he always hits your shifts. And you wanted to believe that it wasn't a coincidence that you two met so often.
And that milaya... he didn't call every woman a sweet girl, did he? No. There had to be at least a hint of attraction in him for you. And you were so desperate for him that you would take any scrap of affection he gave you—any chance to see how it would really be to be loved by him. Even if this closeness was to last only for one night.
He was nervous.
The hundreds-year-old shadow summoner was nervous. And not with the upcoming fight, battle, and important meeting with the king, in which he had to use all his manipulation techniques and lies.
He was nervous before meeting with you.
Baghra would laugh at him and beat him for being distracted by mortals. For letting his stupid heart take control again and naively allowing himself to feel something for a woman who would pass so quickly that he wouldn't have time to blink.
But does that stop him? Of course not. He always takes a losing cause and always makes bad choices.
But how could he not, when you were the only light that had appeared in a very long time that he spent utterly alone in the darkness of his war room, still planning and still thinking about how to provide all Grishas with a safe future in which they wouldn't worry about their lives anymore? How could he just ignore you when you were lightening brighter than the sun summoner herself?
A gentle knock on the door sent a shiver of both excitement and fear through him.
You were already here.
"Come in." he says, trembling with anticipation as he waits for you to enter his chambers for the first time.
However, his face grew grumpy when, instead of your silhouette in some beautiful (preferably black) dress, he saw Fedyor enter his chambers.
"What are you doing here? And what is that all for?" he asks, confused, as Fedyor places a vase with a bouquet of your favourite flowers on his war table, a basket with wine and delicacies you like, and goes to light more candles in the room.
"Things that will come in handy. Good night, General."
Fedyor leaves before he can react. He stares at the room for a moment and laughs to himself, shaking his head. You were going to be his undoing. People will see how... soft he is getting because of you. But somehow it doesn't bother him, at least as long as the prospect of holding you in his arms was within his reach thanks to it. He would put up with Fedyor's banter and whispered gossip within the ranks of the Second Army if it meant having you by his side.
The soft creak of his door draws his attention. His gaze is fully focused on the entrance, his breath catching in his throat as he waits to be blessed with the sight of you. Maybe he could afford this one weakness? To allow himself a moment of blissful peace in the constant, lonely war that he waged for the safety of every Grisha.
The curse almost leaves his mouth when someone else appears instead of you. This time, Alina. In a nightgown, loose hair, and an uncertain expression on her face. And although he really needed her in his plans, he couldn't help but damn her for her timing. It looked like he didn't deserve time free from his duties.
"Alina? How can I help you?" he asks instead, glancing briefly at the clock and wondering how politely and quickly he can dismiss her so that you won't see her leaving on your way to his chambers.
Ironically, what Alina would think about his encounter with you at night didn't matter to him at all. But it should be the other way around. After all, he was going to seduce her and use her power for his plans.
You weren't supposed to mean that much to him.
And yet he was there, standing in front of the Sun Summoner he had dreamed to find for so long, but now he was only wondering how to get rid of her.
"Am I... disturbing you?"
As always, he thought, but quickly shook his head.
"Not at all. What's the matter?" he asks in a polite tone, trying not to get irritated by the way she looks around his chambers. Her cheeks blush slightly, and her eyes glow in the candlelight.
He wonders how you will react to the scenery Fedyor has created. Maybe he should light more candles? Or dust off his old record player and put a record of slow, classical music in it. He knew it would help him. Many times, he caught you dancing alone in the abandoned alley of the library. There were many times when he joined you so that you wouldn't have to dance with the air... although the main reason that encouraged him was the opportunity to hold you in his arms.
He doesn't pay attention to what Alina is saying to him. He only catches the way she says his name, and he can't help but let his thoughts fly to you again.
Considering how often he was in this library, he should have known by now where to look for the books he wanted. However, he was glad that none of the librarians commented on it, and they immediately showed him where he could find you.
However, the reputation of a cruel Grishas' general had its benefits. No one dared to question him.
As he walks through the library, he smiles and thinks about you. How you weren't afraid to put him in his place when you didn't like something.
At first you were just a means to an end, then a pretty thing to look at, then over time you became a challenge, and now... he couldn't go a day without seeing your face or hearing your voice.
He swallowed and shook his head. NO. He didn't fall that low. Not for an ordinary woman, a mortal.
A mocking voice in his head that closely resembles Baghra's words mocks him as he tries to deceive himself. How weak he is.
And he would probably have turned back and tried to save his naive heart if he hadn't heard a familiar, slow song playing from the gramophone.
He froze, watching you dance to the piano sounds coming from the record player, and put the books back on the shelves, rearranging them in order. The skirt moved with your movements, and he wanted nothing more than to place his hands on your waist and pull you as close to him as possible, letting his hands trace your curves as he stared into your eyes.
So he did. Allowing himself to do what he wanted and forgetting for a moment what he should have done.
He walks over to you quietly and places his hands on your waist, turning you towards him and lowering you, keeping his hand on your back in reassurance that he won't let go of you.
"Kirigan!" you scream at him, scared by his sudden action.
You cling to him, and he might have laughed at your adorable reaction if the fake name he gave himself didn't feel like a slap in the face when you said it. And then, as you stare at each other without saying a word, he realises that he wants the only name that leaves your wonderful, tempting lips to be his real one.
"Please... call me Aleksander." he whispers, and somehow this was something more intimate and meaningful than all the flowers and furtive glances you had received for him. Than all the talks you have had. Than all the kisses on the hand, cheek, and hugs you had exchanged.
"Aleksander." you say back, whispering it, like it was something sacred.
His heart sinks further. It does a flip when he hears how gently you say his real name, the name he kept away from the world and close to his heart, only for himself.
He makes himself vulnerable to you.
And instead of freaking out, all he can do is look at you as if you were his only anchor, keeping him sane in his crazy life full of worries, fear, and anxiety. Your eyes shine up at him, reminding him of the stars—the stars that for a long time have guided him in his darkness and made him blind to everything else around him but you.
He was cursed. There was no turning back. He knew it the moment he heard his real name on your lips. And if it weren't for the damn pile of books falling with a loud bang, causing him to go into defence mode and hide you behind him, he would have kissed you right there and then.
He remembers perfectly that day. And he cursed every moment you decided not to use it. As if he cared who might hear it. As long as it came out of your alluring lips, he didn't care who heard it. He knew it would be the end of him to hear you scream it loud in the darkness of his chambers.
He doesn't notice when Alina approaches him. Or when she places her hand on his. At least not until a ball of light appears around them. He looks fascinated by Alina's possibilities and her power.
Alina leans towards him. His gaze shifts to her. He wonders if he should let her kiss him. But then the image of you comes to his mind, and he knows he has no choice but to push her away. He can't do this. Not when he knows he could be kissing you; taste your lips on his instead of hers. And the realisation makes him even more aware of how hopelessly he has fallen for you. To reject the Sun Summoner herself.
And that's when he notices you standing in the doorway.
"Y/N? Y/N, wait!" he pushes Alina's hand away and shouts after you as you walk away, closing the door.
He leaves a confused Alina speechless as he runs after you. When he's in the hallway, he sees no sign of you. He curses, realising what an uncomfortable situation you found him in with the sun summoner.
This will be difficult for him to explain. But damn him if he doesn't try his best.
"Don't." he stops his oprichniki from chasing you. You needed a moment for yourself. He knows that chasing after you would only make things worse... even if that was all he wanted to do right now. "Just make sure she will come back safetly to her chamber. If something happens to her, you will suffer the consequences. Understood?"
"Yes, general."
"That's all." they bow to him and leave. He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"Aleksander?" Alina's hand is on his shoulder as she turns him to face her.
And maybe, if they had met a few years earlier—before he met you—he would have allowed himself to take the opportunity to get the sun summoner for himself. But now... all he wants is you.
"You should go back to your chamber." he says coldly, returning to his room.
Only to take his black kefta. Just because he couldn't talk to you doesn't mean he couldn't watch you to make sure you were okay. Maybe, thanks to you, he will figure out how to explain all this to you.
You were stupid. And naive.
You think angrily as you clean the library floor with a broom. If anyone noticed that you started cleaning again as a way to release your negative emotions, they did not comment on it. And good. You were a ticking bomb today.
Honestly, you could have seen it coming. Him and the Sun Summoner. They were perfect for each other. In every book, they would end up together, and you would just be a supporting character.
The less important one.
It's good that you realised this before you let yourself do with him something stupid, before you got to know how his lips tasted, how it was to lay with his arms around you... Although... you guess he got under your skin and into your everyday life too deeply for you to simply forget about him.
Especially when he wouldn't leave you alone.
"You can't avoid me." he says, walking out of the alley. You almost run into him with a broom and for a moment, you feel the urge to hit him with it. But then you remember that you didn't actually promise each other anything. You were nothing to him. Only a librarian. An ordinary person. At best, a friend.
"I'm not." you say it coldly and try to move past him.
"You are." he says, blocking your way. You lift your head to look at him defiantly. All he does is grab your hands and take the broom out of your hands. You suddenly feel vulnerable… as if the broom could somehow protect you from the shadow summoner and your feelings for him. "Please. I just want to talk."
"How can I help you, general?" you ask him in an emotionless tone.
He sighs, but you can see from the look in his eyes that he won't give up that easily. But you also don't want to get involved in something that is doomed to failure. Men like them didn't end up with women like you. Not with someone so… ordinary.
"That's not how it looked like."
"No? You seemed… quite enjoyed your closeness to her. Besides, it is not my business. You can do whatever you want. With whoever… If you don't need my help finding a book, then I should go now."
"No, wait. Please." he grabs your arm and takes a step towards you, refusing to let you just walk away from him.
"Do you call her milaya too?" you can't help but ask him this question in a tone full of resentment, anger, and bitterness.
His reaction surprises you. Instead of responding to your ridiculous jealousy with anger or a comment as cruel as yours, he… smiles. The bastard has the nerve to enjoy how bad you feel.
"Nevermind. Just…forget about it." you say, trying to break free from his grip, but he won't let you go—not even a step away.
After a moment, you feel him pressing you against the bookshelves. His nose brushes lightly against yours, and your lips are closer together than ever. He breathes heavily, his dark, almost black eyes staring into yours as he tries to stop himself from simply kissing every thought that isn't him out of you. You look at him, waiting; you don't know what. Every inner moral battle in him is settled by your quiet whisper:
"Aleksander?"
He's losing it. All the control he had gained over hundreds of years. He leans down and connects your lips in a long-awaited kiss. At first, he tries to be slow and gentle. He caresses your cheek affectionately and carefully places his hand on your waist.
Your moan changes all his plans.
He grips your waist tighter, bringing you as close to him as possible. He tangles his other hand in your hair, deepening the kiss and taking in all your whimpers. And Aleksander, for the first time in his long life, feels like he's in heaven.
By simply touching you. By simply kissing you.
He pushes away all his thoughts about breaking you and about defiling your sweet and pure person with his darkness. But he can't stop.
Not when you respond so eagerly to his kisses. Not when you pull him as close to you as possible by his hair and kefta. Not when he feels the same lust and desire for you that he has for you. Not when his wildest dreams are coming true.
He pulls away as he feels you slowly running out of air. He gives you just enough space to breathe but still stays as close to you as he can, resting his forehead against yours and pressing a kiss there. Both of his hands roam over your figure, and he curses at how delicate and otherworldly you feel under his fingertips. Like you always should have belonged right here, in his arms, in his hands.
The saints created you for him as his eternal trouble, as his baine of existence. To sweep him off his feet. To question any decisions he ever made. To prove to him that all his plans will be ruined and that his priorities don't matter when it comes to choosing between them and you.
"I… I want… I want it to be your business. I want you to care about me… just as I care about you too, moya milaya. My one and only." he whispers, pulling away from you enough that he can look into your eyes.
He strokes your cheek tenderly, deciding he doesn't want to spend another second missing you, your touch, and your presence. Holding himself back from kissing and chereshing you as you should be.
"And how can you possibly care about me? I'm… just me. Otkazat'sya. I can't summon the sun, shadows, or anything. I can't heal or manipulate hearts. I can't composite materials such as metal, glass, textiles, and chemicals. I'm not Grisha. I'm nothing special."
"Do you think I don't know it? Do you think that meant anything to my stupid heart the day I first saw you? That after our first conversation, I gave a damn about anything, but how is your laugh so hypnotic? How can I simply spend the day just looking at you or listening to your sweet voice, talking excitedly about every single book you've read? I know it makes no sense, but... isn't that what it looks like? How is it supposed to be? To fall for someone even knowing that you shouldn't? Even knowing that it's something doomed to fall from the beginning?"
"I suppose that's not how a love confession should look like, Aleksander." you laugh a little and hearing his name on your lips again gives him hope that he needs to fully open up.
"Maybe not. But we are not in the story. I speak from my heart, with my own words, because… nothing I ever knew can be compared to what I feel for you since the time we know each other. You attracted me at first, but… with time, I understand it isn't just some attraction. It is something deeper. More personal. You understand me like no one else has before, so don't stand there and pretend there is no special link between us, because this… this is everything that keeps me sane. With so many wars I have to fight, so many plans I have to put into action, and so many sacrifices I have to make… I shouldn't think about you… and yet it is everything I can do each time I leave your presence. You became a part of me… best part of me that I have ever had. And I know I will probably lose you in time, but… I can't imagine being without you. To go my day without speaking to you, seeing you, or laughing with you. And if you let me… I would like to keep you close for as long as I can. As long as you will have me."
He says all of this while looking at you with so much earnestness and passion that you have a hard time saying no to him or entering into his speech.
He sees your doubts. And he's so afraid of them that he decides to kiss you again, to try to bribe you, to make up your mind in his favour with the feeling of his lips on yours.
This time, you pull him in, placing your hands around his neck. He shivers as you play with the strands of his hair, and he knows that if he doesn't get you, the only ray of light in his grey existence, he has nothing to lose. Nothing will stop him from becoming a monster.
"I'm not so... open-hearted. Time taught me to keep my feelings to myself. But with... with you, I feel like the man I used to be. And I really like to be him again with you by my side."
"And... what about Alina?" you ask hesitantly, unable to get used to the idea that he might be… that he might choose you.
"You are the only one I can see." he whispers. He steals another kiss from you. This time, he presses you closer to him. You feel his muscular body under his kefta pressing against you, and you feel yourself slowly turning into putty in his hands. The bastard grins gladly as he feels you trembling.
"But for how long?" you try to hold on to one last rational thought before the warmth of the moment you share with him overwhelms you, and you become undeniably his. However, your internal struggle is just a matter of decency. You both know who won anyway.
"Eternity." he whispers against your lips before kissing you hungrily, losing control as he finally gives in to his desires, touching and caressing you as he wants with your more than willing consent. "Mine." he murmurs into your neck, pressing kisses there, his stubble teasing your sensitive skin as you moan at the feeling of his hot lips that you've imagined more than you care to admit.
"Mine." you respond, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him in for another kiss.
Feeling his lips against you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing you, pulling you as close to him as possible, and his skin that you explore with your fingertips while unbuttoming his kefta as his shadows surround you, hiding the two of you from the sight of others who might be looking for you between the bookshelves, is making you realise that maybe, after all, you were the main character… at least in his story.
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader
Summary: You're not like the other Grishas. It took you some time to master your power, but you're still unsure of your control over it. That's why it scares you when you're chosen for a special mission in Fjerda. Luckily your general cares about all his people... or at least about you... actually way too much, but you're not going to complain at all.
Requested by: @dreampissybaby I hope you like it! 😊💙🖤
Warning(s): the reader is unsure of herself; the reader does not want to kill (but is ultimately forced to for Aleks); blood; mentions of murder; sharing body heat, Aleks comforts the reader;
Words count: 5,7 k
~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
The time has come. Your first mission.
You spent years in the Little Palace training, going to classes with other heartrenders, practicing under the supervision of Baghra and Botkin. And you had potential. You were the most powerful of all the heartrenders in the Little Palace...
There was only one 'problem' with you.
You didn't kill. Nor control your powers as you should.
You were supposed to be a healer. This is what you always wanted as soon as your Grishas powers as Corporalki manifested. But due to fate and the fact that there was a greater demand for heartenders in the Second Army than for healers, you became someone you did not want to be. You were supposed to take lives, not heal or save them, and you never really came to terms with that.
Not that anyone asked for your opinion. Certainly not Baghra, although she was one of the few who noticed that the problem with mastering your powers was in your head and not due to lack of control or powerlessness. Which didn't mean she didn't give you a hard time at every training session you had. You would rather have Botkin's training than spend your time in that's hag's hut.
That's why you laughed at Fedyor when he told you that he chose you as a replacement for Ivan (who was unexpectedly sent on another mission) as an additional heartrender for their secret mission in Fjerda.
"Very funny. Be careful, you start to adopt Ivan's sense of humor." you say, walking with him towards your rooms after sparring together. However, you start to get a little worried when he doesn't respond to your taunt. "Saints, Fedyor, it was a joke, right?"
"You have to go on your first mission someday. Besides, it will be an easy and simple task. We'll do some spying and go home. A few weeks and you'll be back in the Little Palace, and I promise I'll watch over you."
"Have you lost your mind?! I will get stressed, reveal my powers, and the Fjerdans will skin us faster than you can eat sweets from the palace kitchen." you lament, imagining all the worst-case scenarios.
"Nothing will happen. Besides, general is coming too. With him, no Fjerdans or Drüskells will attack us." you freeze at his words, realising how much worse your situation suddenly is with this one statement.
"What?!" you ask, but Fedyor has already disappeared into his and Ivan's room.
You start to get even more nervous. Since you had relatively completed the most important parts of your training, you were often at either Fedyor's or Ivan's side, 'improving' your skills and getting used to your new role in Little Palace.
This also meant often being near General Kirigan's side. Who was dangerously becoming more and more curious about you (at least that was what Fedyor was telling you in great secrecy.)
And his unexpected interest in your abilities only grew when Ivan blurted out to him that Baghra was also training you to be a healer, not only a heartrender. You don't know if this little act of mercy by the old witch was to help you overcome the internal conflict inside you since you put on the red-black kefta of a heartrender or if it was another one of the woman's ways of ruining others' lives.
Anyway, one day you walked into Kirigan's war room behind Ivan and the Black General's dark eyes, and instead of being glued to the maps and reports in front of him as usual, they were focused only on you. A shiver ran through you as you felt his piercing gaze on you. He seemed to be assessing your capabilities based on the rumours that Ivan and his men had been feeding him. You knew that he was judging how useful you could be to him. You held his gaze for a moment before looking down at the maps on the table, hiding slightly behind Ivan as he began to give him the most important information from the camp closest to the fold.
Since then, you've been seeing him more and more. Be it on your way back from Baghra's hut to the palace, in the library, or even late at night in the gardens or other parts of the Little Palace when you never expect him to appear.
He was always polite and nice. He spoke to you in such a gentle and calm tone, so different from the way he spoke to other Grishas, that it took you a moment to adjust to the soft side he was giving you. You didn't expect that the Darkling would ever be understanding of your insecure, shy nature or try to help you control your powers and come to terms with them by giving you small advice and even giving you accessories from Materialki, which allowed you to feel more confident while using your little science and controlling others hearts, bodies, and minds.
But that didn't matter anymore. Any sympathy or hope he had for you and your powers would end in the coming days when he saw that you were actually a nobody and were only wasting your power, which someone else could better use than you.
You might as well start preparing to be sent across the fold to Western Ravka and certain death at the hands of the volcras.
With trembling hands, you tied your small bag to the saddle of your horse. Fedyor, Zoya, Inferni, and Tidemaker, whose names you didn't know, were also preparing their horses to leave.
You were about to leave the Little Palace in a few minutes. The only person missing was General Kirigan.
Which made you very happy. You had trouble tying that damned bundle so it wouldn't fly off your horse's back. You weren't going to ask anyone for help and show how weak and hopeless you were in the group from the very beginning. You won't be defeated by something like this. If you were going to embarrass yourself, at least in a fight… or at least not before you set out.
But as always, you must have been unlucky.
"What are you doing here?" the general's question didn't make you the only one to freeze. The rest of your companions also stopped what they were doing and now looked at you with interest while you were trying to calm down your beating heart and respond to the Darkling. You turn to him and hold your little bundle of belongings that you failed to tie to your horse behind your back, so he can't see it.
"Fedyor thought I would be suitable for this task and appointed me as a second heartrender, sir." you reply without looking him in the eyes.
"He did?" he asks unemotionally, turning his gaze to your friend. You swallow nervously, waiting for his next words.
"Yes, General. Y/N is doing better and better. It's time to test her beyond the walls of the Little Palace, so she can use her power in a more beneficial way." Fedyor responds as your main "mentor". If you were brave enough to raise your head, you would surely give him a grateful look for the confidence with which he assured the general of your readiness.
"Well then." The general nods. You see him send a stern look at the rest of the Grishas, who are still staring. They immediately go back to their preparations.
You mentally curse as the horseboy leaves the general's horse next to yours. You try your best to ignore him as you continue to tie the damned bundle with trembling hands to your horse. And at the same time, you try to reject the uncertainty and doubts that began to grow even more intensely in you after the general's question.
"I don't see you being particularly excited about your first mission." the general's remark made you turn your head towards him. You shivered as soon as you realised his piercing gaze was directed straight at you. "Nervous?"
"A little." you admit, glad he's not a heartrender and can't hear your heart beating madly. You're about to have a heart attack here... if you don't first make a fool of yourself and cry from helplessness in front of the general. You were so pathetic...
You are brought out of your dark thoughts by the sudden presence of someone behind you. The general's warm, large hands gently take your bundle with your things from your hands and tie it to the horse's side. And if you didn't know better, you'd think he was extending the moment on purpose, just to keep you pressed against his chest, embraced by his arms, a little longer.
"You don't have to." he whispers, responding to your earlier words, and pulls away from you as if nothing had happened. He went to finish his preparations for the road himself, leaving you with the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck.
You get goosebumps and feel your cheeks heat up. Your hands tingle in the place where the general's hands were on them a moment ago. And your traitorous mind imagines what it would be like to feel his touch entirely somewhere else.
You shake your head and get on your horse, praying to the saints to help you survive this journey with dignity. Or at least that you'll come back alive. After all, you should keep your expectations low.
Surprisingly, you managed to survive the first week without any relative disasters. It was more than you could expect from yourself. Things may not have gone as you expected, but at least you all managed to ride safely through Ravka to the border with Fjerdans.
But every day you got closer to the border, your fear grew more and more.
You set up camp in the forest, each following your established routine. The General and Fedyor went out scouting, exploring the surrounding areas, when the rest of you were setting up a small camp and trying to hide it from human eyes as much as you could.
You were feeding and watering the horses when you suddenly heard a heartbeat next to you. You didn't even try to explain to yourself how you knew or when exactly you started to recognise General Kirigan's heartbeat. It just happened over time. And you didn't have the courage to admit to yourself that it meant something more.
The general took one apple and gave it to his black stallion, tenderly stroking its muzzle. You couldn't hide your small smile at how gentle he was with his horse (whose name was, ironically, Nightfall).
The black bastard even had his mane braided by him. Not that you watched closely as his hands braided it for the whole 6 minutes before Fedyor noticed and started teasing you about how your heart would go into failure from pumping blood so fast. You had never considered being a horse, but in that moment...
"Anything funny, Captain?" he asks, and if you hadn't learned over the course of this week the difference in the tone of his voice when he was teasing, you would probably have died of fear there.
"Nothing, General." you reply with a smirk, laughing in your head at your own ridiculousness and the stupid attraction you had for him. "How long do we have to be in Fjerda?"
"Until we get what we came here for. But I think it will take us two weeks at most. The Little Palace can't stay unattended for long."
You nod, partially satisfied with his answer. But you can't shake that unsettling feeling that something bad will definitely happen by then. Either you ruin the entire mission or you die miserably at Fjerdans' hands, revealing your powers in enemy territory.
"What's wrong?" His voice breaks you out of your thoughts better than the hand he suddenly wraps around yours. After thinking about it for a while, his touch shouldn't be that familiar to you.
"Nothing, General. I was lost in thought." you lie, trying to hide your insecurities and fear by looking down at your hands because you know he can read people like an open book.
"Don't insult my intelligence. I won't be convinced by such a flimsy excuse, and you definitely have better, more persuading answers." he takes a step towards you and gently grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his piercing, dark brown eyes. "What's the matter?"
"I..." you stutter as you get lost in his eyes, which are studying you so intently, as if the answer to his questions were written in your eyes.
And for a moment, you want to tell him.
You want to say that you are afraid of your powers and that you don't know if you will be able to control them when you are in a critical situation and help others. That you don't know if you'll ever get used to the role you've been thrust into. That you don't belong, and even his soothing presence isn't worth the stress, anxiety, and uncertainty you're going through every day. That you want to be someone completely different, but you know that you can't be a brat and throw away an opportunity that thousands of Grishas in your place would gratefully accept.
But you can't show him that you're broken...
"Y/N. Talk to me." he says firmly.Worry and concern are obviously written on his face, and it irritates you that you are unaware of what's causing it. That you don't know why he even cares to notice, let alone ask you what's bothering you.
"It's nothing serious. You shouldn't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine, sir." you say it emotionlessly and move away from him. You turn your back at him and start to comb your horse's mane.
But he doesn't give up. He places a hand on your shoulder and holds it in a tight grip, turning you back to face him.
"Something's clearly bothering you. You're going to tell me this now and here. This is no longer a question, Captain." if possible, his eyes will become even darker. But he's not the only one who's starting to get mad. Unlike him, you can't keep your emotions bottled up inside you so well.
"Why do you even care?! I'm just a captain, another one of your heartrenders; you shouldn't care about me at all!" you shout at him, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. Ivan would have a heart attack if he saw you talk with the general.
But Kirigan also seems to forget that you should be more respectful towards him... or maybe he's relieved that you're not as afraid of him as everyone else, and this new revelation is refreshing for him.
"It's not up to you to judge what I should care about. Even a blind person could see that you've been behaving strangely for a week and that something is tormenting you. Your hands tremble more often, you are more silent and paler, you eat less, your eyes no longer shine like they used to when Fedyor teases you, dark circles start to appear under your eyes, and every night I hear you rolling over next to me on your sleeping place. So you are going to tell me now what's wrong, so I can fix it."
His long speech leaves you stunned. You didn't realise that he noticed things like that or that he watched you closely enough to find a difference in your behavior. And what bothered you most was the reason why the Black General knew you so well.
And you probably would have crumbled in pieces there in front of him and poured out all your insecurities and fears on him if the sudden crunch of branches hadn't caught your attention.
You didn't even have time to blink before you were behind the general. He holds your arm with one hand, making sure you stay behind him so he can shield you from any danger. And in the back of your mind, despite how enchanted you were by his closeness, the thought occurs that you should be the one protecting him...
Then he threw his dagger in the direction the sound came from. After a while, a painful groan echoed through the clearing.
"Fedyor?!" you ask and run out from behind the general when you recognise your friend's voice. You disappear behind the trees, finding the heartrender, who was wearing a regular cloak (you had to drop your keftas since you were getting closer to Fjerdans), leaning against a tree and holding his arm where the dagger was embedded. "What the hell?! You scared us!"
"Well, you're not the one with the dagger stuck in you. It was starting to get dark; the others sent me to get you, since we are practically on Fjerdans' territory."
You nod and help him sit on the ground. After a while, the general appears behind you. You see him blush awkwardly, realising who his dagger hit.
"My apologies, Fedyor. You shouldn't have sneaked up on us like that, though."
You take the opportunity to have your back turned to him and roll your eyes at him. While Fedyor is busy answering him, you quickly take the dagger out of him. He hisses in pain and gives you an offended look.
"What? Would you rather I count to three?" you ask sarcastically, pulling back his coat and lifting up his shirt to place your hands on his wound. Blood sticks to your fingers, staining the sleeves of your shirt.
"The last time you did that, you took the arrow out of me before you could count to two." he grumbles as you begin to heal him, the wound tingling unpleasantly as it closes up.
"I don't remember you complaining when I let you eat my chocolate cookies later. At least I wasn't the first to get hurt; you should be proud of me as my mentor." you don't miss the general's quiet chuckle behind you as you taunt with your friend.
"Come on, veteran." he pats Fedyor on his health shoulder. "Let's get back to camp before they send a whole search party after us, shall we?" he asks, his dark irises trained on you, watching as you let go of Fedyor's arm, which is fully healed now.
The general extends his hand towards you and helps you up. He doesn't shy away from grabbing your bloody hand; he holds it even tighter, making sure it doesn't slip away from his grip. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Fedyor give you a significant look. You roll your eyes at him.
"Here." the general says, and he hands you his black handkerchief to wipe the blood from you. But before you can take it from him, he catches your hands in his and wipes the red liquid from your hands himself. "Allow me." he whispers, looking into your eyes. Blushing, you realise that Fedyor is long gone from sight, leaving the two of you alone once again.
"Thank you." you clear your throat, feeling his fingers gently wipe the blood from your hands. And you feel ashamed, admitting to yourself that this simple touch makes you shiver.
"You should change that shirt when we come back."
You look at your shirt and see that it's stained with Fedyor's blood. You wrinkled your nose, knowing this was your last shirt. You will have to stay in it until you reach a village where you can buy a new one.
"I'll be fine," you say, trying to change the subject. You don't want to seem even weaker than you already are in his eyes.
The general frowns but says nothing more as you return to camp. And if he thought you didn't notice that he was still holding your hand and keeping you close to him as he walked lightly in front of you, he was sorely mistaken. You were glad that no one was around to hear your heartbeat and that his fingers avoided the place on your wrist where he could feel your racing pulse.
If anyone else notices that there is blood on your shirt, they don't comment on it. You go through your evening chores, and finally, after hours of driving and being on your feet, you lie down.
You put your small travel bag under your head and are about to go to sleep when suddenly you hear the rustle of fabric falling next to you.
You open your eyes and stare in surprise at the black shirt that is clearly an intruder. A shiver runs through you as you feel someone's burning gaze on you. You look up and see the general sitting a few steps away from you, watching you carefully.
If the delicate, skin-friendly material or colour of the clothes didn't give you a clue as to who they might belong to, then the look in those hypnotising dark eyes that didn't leave you until you took the clothes in your hands was an eloquent suggestion of the shirt's owner.
And after the intoxicating smell that engulfed you as you changed in a secluded place, you were even more overwhelmed by this unexpected gesture, knowing full well that you shouldn't recognise his scent that easily. Or wanting it to stay with you for a long time.
You walk back to camp and ignore the smirk Fedyor gives you as he stands guard by the fire. You lie down in your place and pull the blanket tighter over you, wrapped in a cocoon, with the general's scent wafting around you.
You shiver, feeling the chill of the night despite it. You roll the oversized sleeves of the Kirigan's shirt around your hands, limiting the air from reaching your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the others move closer to each other, taking advantage of the warmth of each other's bodies.
You sigh, realising that it will be a few hours before you can do the same to Fedyor once he stands off his watch. Now you had to endure the cold that was starting to sting your cheeks and slowly seep into your uncovered skin.
You roll from side to side a few times, trying to find the best position to limit your heat loss, until you are stopped by strong arms that suddenly wrap around your stomach and press you against the hard and warm wall. You blush as you realise from the pounding heartbeat behind you that you're pressing against SOMEONE'S chest.
"It's a cold night." he whispers, his warm breath on the back of your neck making you shiver. "Do you mind, milaya?"
You shake your head slowly. You knew that right now you would do anything what he would ask of you. And you were both terrified and excited about that damn exhilarating closeness with him as he was sharing his warmth with you.
"Thank you, general." you whisper into the night, afraid to turn and look at his face lit only by the flames of the fire and the light of the stars, because you know that if you did, you would be lost for good.
You close your eyes, trying to protect yourself a little from your obvious feelings for him—the man you will never truly have.
"Call me Aleksander." he whispers in your ear, making you shiver. He takes this as a sign that you're cold and ends up pressing you closer to him, so that you feel every inch of his body touching you.
He could have anyone. And you knew both yourself and his habits too well to pull the wool over your eyes that you could ever be someone more to him... but that didn't mean you didn't enjoy this momentary attention he was giving you.
You relax and lean into him more as he buries his nose in your hair and falls asleep. His rhythmic heartbeat and breathing, his scent that immediately makes you feel safe and protected, and the warmth that floats around the two of you curled up against each other, lull you to sleep.
After all, it was a cold night. And General, contrary to all the rumours you've heard, turned out to be very warm... at least when he held you protectively close to his chest.
Fedyor watches the two of you with a mischievous smirk, knowing full well that he'll be teasing you with this the next day. He already knew what he would write to Genya and Ivan in his next letters.
Your informant did a good job. He perfectly determined the location of the hidden cellar in the Fjerdans' forest, where their soldiers' base was.
It took you several days to prepare. You were supposed to break in, steal the necessary plans and reports, and get out of there before anyone noticed you. Of course, everything went to hell as fast as it was possible.
At one point, you scattered, each trying to find a way out on your own, when one of the soldiers detected Inferni, who was with you and was using his powers to warm himself up.
You didn't know what happened to him in the end. Or with Aleksander, the rest of the group.
You ran forward, towards the exit you remembered, avoiding all heartbeats along the way.
You're walking down corridor after corridor, corner after corner, when suddenly someone grabs your elbow and pulls you towards him, keeping a hand over your mouth to block out any sound from you. You struggle for a moment until you hear a quiet whisper that haunts you both at night and in your dreams:
"It's me, milaya." you freeze in place at the sound of his soothing whisper in your ear. You turn around, wanting to make sure your mind isn't playing any tricks on you, and sigh in relief when you see Aleksander's concerned face in front of you.
"Where's the rest?" you ask, swallowing, trying to calm yourself down and maintain an appearance of composure in front of him. Even though your heart was now beating like crazy with fear.
"Fedyor and Zoya are outside. I'm not sure about the others." he says, taking your elbow and pushing you to the side of the hall so that you're more shielded from anyone's view. You frown, processing his words while he looks around to see if you can leave your hiding place and continue on your way to the exit.
"You came back for me?" you ask, trying to catch his gaze to read something in his impenetrable eyes.
You see the gears stop in his head, all thoughts of your escape and safety being forgotten as he stares at you, speechless.
You've never seen him like this. No words, no wise comment or answer. He just stood there and stared at you. A blush slowly took over his cheeks, and after hearing his heartbeat quicken, you had never been happier that he had technically forced you to qualify as a heartrender.
"Aleksander?" you whisper questioningly, waiting for any word from him that will either confirm your suspicions and make your wildest dreams come true or make him break your heart more than the most powerful heartrender could ever do.
You hold your breath when, after a moment of internal struggle that is going on inside him for some reason, he takes a step towards you and confidently cups your cheek with his hand.
"Y/N... I... For a very long time... I haven't met someone like you. I've never wanted to meet again. I've lost so many... But you... you make me question everything I promised myself a long time ago."
You see pain and longing in his eyes. You have no idea what he's been through or why he feels the way he does now, but you are sure of one thing. And you are ready to promise him this one thing, regardless of any consequences.
"You won't lose me." you whisper, looking into his teary eyes. He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent. You shiver as your noses touch, brushing gently.
You open your eyes only to see Fjerdan behind him, pointing a gun at you two. You are both without your keftas, but you know that the Fjerdans know how the Darkling looks like and can recognise him.
You act automatically. You push Aleksander away and link your arms, stopping the man's heart in front of you before he can even put his finger on the trigger of his gun. The body falls to the ground with a thud, and a deafening, terrifying silence reigns in the corridor. The smell of blood irritates your nostrils.
You lower your hands shakily, only to realise that you've done more than stop his heart. The weight of the organ that ripped from Fjerdan's chest and flew straight into your hand weighs on you more than your growing guilt. Your heart falls out of your hands and onto the floor, and you still feel the blood staining your fingers.
You killed someone. You actually killed someone...
The cold permeates your body. You shiver uncontrollably as tears fill your eyes, and you stare at the dead body in shock until Aleksander stands in front of you. He cups your cheeks and pulls you closer to him, making you rest your head on his chest.
"Shhh... It's fine, milaya. We are safe, you saved us both." he whispers into your ear, hugging you even tighter as he presses you against his chest with one arm, and his other hand strokes your hair to calm you down.
"I… killed… I…" you can't stand it. You fall apart completely in his warm embrace, his coat perfectly soaking up both the blood you shed for him and the tears flowing from your eyes that you simply can't stop anymore.
The realisation comes to him with a delay, and you feel him freeze when he hears your words. He is wise. You know that he realises that this was your first... and that you never wanted to do this, and that this was what you feared most when going on this mission with them.
If possible, you sob and tremble even more, aware that soon his soothing embrace will disappear, that he will throw you out of his inner circle, and that you can start preparing to be sent out across the fold and to West Ravka since you have proven to be so useless to him.
But, much to your surprise, he didn't pull away. He didn't make any malicious remarks, and he didn't threaten to throw you out of the Second Army, as he often did in the worst-case scenarios your head could imagine.
Instead, he pulls you as close to him as possible and places a tender kiss on your forehead. You tremble as his hands cup your cheeks and gently brush away your tears before he presses his soft lips there.
"Shhh… I have you, lapushka." he whispers while kissing off your tears. "You did a good thing. He didn't deserve to live, moya milaya. He would have hurt us if you hadn't reacted first. And I gave you my word; this is the last time you have to do something like this." he says, pressing his lips to your tample in a promise.
He tangles his hand in your hair and presses your head against his shoulder. You bury your head between his neck and shoulder as he holds you tightly against him and strokes your back while cradling you.
You cry into him until you run out of tears. He is with you until the very end, silently comforting you with a warm hug and a gentle touch of his lips on various parts of your face.
He places one last kiss on your forehead and cups your cheek in his hand, lovingly wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. You instinctively lean into his touch and stand as if hypnotised, staring into his dark irises that look at you with so much affection and care like no one has ever done before.
You don't know who leans in first, you or him, or who is the one who kissed the other first. All you can feel, all you can think about, and all your world is limited to now is him and his soft lips caressing yours as gently as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. As if he was afraid that in any moment you would disappear.
At some point, his kisses became more intense. He tangles his hand in your hair and pins you to the wall, his hand making sure you don't hit your head against the stone wall as he doesn't let your lips leave his for the slightest moment.
He breaks the kiss and pulls away to look at you. You feel your cheeks turn bright red and your lips swollen from his kiss. You clear your throat and shyly look away from him as he watches you intensively.
"We… we should go… the rest are probably waiting for us…" you stutter. He lets out a soft laugh and leans in to steal another quick kiss from you.
"As you wish, milaya. This way." he says, and he grabs your hand, pulling you close to him. His shadows surround the two of you as he wraps his arm protectively around your waist and leads you outside.
When you walk with him with your hands together, you feel complete. Calm. And glancing at your general as he removes any Fjerdans from your path and surrounds the two of you in a protective shield of his shadows, you know that if you went back in time, you would do everything exactly the same.
You wouldn't change anything if it meant you would ultimately end up in the arms of the Dark General. He was worth evereything... maybe even losing your innocence too. Though something told you that he liked taking care of his little corporalki.
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x moon summoner! reader
Summary: You knew Aleksander before he was a Black Heretic, a foldmaker. You married him and promised to be by his side through thick and thin. And you never, ever regretted your choice. However, one day, your paths parted in an unfortunate way, and you both believed that the love of your lives was gone forever. After many centuries, you meet again with a man very similar to your Aleksander. And you start to wonder... maybe your love never die after all?
Warning(s): ANGST, de@th mention, the reader yearns for Aleksander, and Aleksander yearns for the reader :c
I USED FRAGMENT OF THE SONG "Jeg Saler Min Ganger" FROM THE SERIES "LOKI"
Nonsense from me: So this is request from @morrigan-crowmwell Thank you so much, I was super excited to write this! I hope this is more or less what you asked for and that you like it.♡♡ I'm sorry it took me soooo long! ♡♡
Word count: 13k
"Aleksander Morozova! You'll be late to meet your mother!" you squealed as he stole another long kiss from you. "We don't have time for this, Sasha." you moaned, when he moved his lips to your sensitive neck.
"Nonsense… I always have time to properly say goodbye to my wife before I leave." he murmured against your skin, sucking on your weak spot behind your ear. He smiled slyly, hearing the sweet moan coming from your red lips, swollen from kissing.
Saints, he could stay in your arms for the rest of eternity.
"As much as your wife loves your goodbyes, she'd rather her mother-in-law didn't wander in the middle of one, looking for her spoiled son."
"This is how you say goodbye to your husband, lapushka? Calling him spoiled and hurting his feelings?" he asked indignantly, hovering over his beautiful wife and looking at her intently. He wanted to burn the view below him into his mind until he was back in her arms again.
"I have been "goodbye-ing" you for three hours, Aleksander. Don't you think that's enough for a 4 day trip?"
"I need at least one more hour to enjoy you." he murmured, placing more kisses on your already-marked neck.
"If Baghra finds us…" you moaned as he bit your neck gently, effectively silencing you, and got out of your head all the reasons why he should go now.
"It would be helpful if you would stop thinking about my mother while I try to kiss every inch of your gorgeous skin. Besides, don't worry about her. She likes you—sometimes even more than her own son, I have to admit. If anything, she'll blame me."
"Don't worry, sobachka (puppy), you'll always be my favourite." you smirked, flipping him onto the mattress of your bed and straddling him, marking his skin with your lips, making sure you'd give him back the same favour.
"I thought we didn't have time for this?" he purred meanly, pleased with your attention.
"Shut up and kiss me, Sasha." you demanded with an equally malicious gleam in your eyes, knowing full well how this would end. Bagra was right. You had him wrapped around your little finger. Which was good considering how many female Grishas wanted to catch his eye.
"As you wish, milaya." without a second's hesitation, he grabbed your cheek and pulled you into a kiss, pinning you back under him on the mattress.
Disappointment, as usual, overtook you after waking up from this beautiful dream. During those few centuries, flashbacks about HIM only became more frequent. Someone should hang that fool who said time heals all wounds. In your case, it only made it worse.
You'd give anything to go back a few hundred years and not let him go alone with his mother on this trip. You didn't even remember why they went to Aleksander's sister.
You had a vague memory of that day, only remembering the morning with your husband and the fragments of the Fjerdans' attack on your village.
But the moment you found out you were a moon summoner will forever be etched deep in your memories.
You helped your best friend's family and herself escape when the men attacked you. You defended yourself using all the tricks and attacks Alexander had taught you, but it wasn't enough against a band of trained soldiers.
Just as he was about to slash his sword at you, you felt heat radiating deep from your chest. You screamed, falling to your knees as light began to emit from you, blinding some soldiers and killing those close to you. The first time you've used the cut and your power.
You escaped with your friend and her brother - the last survivors, and hid in the city, pretending to be siblings who managed to survive the great fire caused by Grisha.
It was hard to pretend to hate your own people and even harder to hide your new powers. But the hardest thing was going through all this without Aleksander by your side.
You tried to contact him, search in every possible way. But the world was different back then. Your attempts in advance were doomed to failure. And you knew it. But your stupid heart made you search for your husband until the end.
And you did. Until the news of the Black Heretic, the shadow summoner, who died while creating the fold, spread across the world.
You mourned Aleksander for a long time. Your life went on, but the wound of losing your husband never healed. And you knew it wouldn't. He was your great, true love. Your end game. It was impossible to let him go, to make place in your heart for someone new.
Time passed, and everything around you slowly changed. Except you. Your friends got old, grey, and wrinkled. And you remained the same as those decades ago. Then you discovered your second curse. You were immortal.
You and Aleksander could have lived together forever if not for Shu Han's and Fjerda's people.
It was the time when you vowed to finish Aleksander's work at any cost. His sacrifice will not be in vain. You were supposed to build a Ravka safe for the Grishas. All you needed was a sun and shadow summoner.
So you waited. At any sign of the sun summoner's presence. You knew Aleksander's lineage was fine. People often spoke of the descendants of the Black Heretic. You've never come close to them. You didn't want to relive the pain that would be associated with being with a member of his family. Aleksander had no children, but his sister probably did; maybe even Baghra found someone - you weren't sure about the old woman's fate.
The past centuries have not been kind to you. But this month was fruitful in terms of good news. The sun summoner has been found, the king of Ravka was ill, and your men were on the trail of Morozova's deer.
And that's how you were on your way to meet Alina Starkov and the descendant of the Morozovas, General Kirigan.
You were supposed to change the world together - in memory of your Aleksander.
~•♤♤♤•~
Aleksander had never been in such a hurry to get home before.
He was so desperate to have you in his arms again that he even ignored all of his mother's taunts, remarks, and other snide comments. All that mattered to him now was coming home to you.
That's why he bravely endured his mother's teasing remarks as they rode horseback towards your cottage.
He was excited, only moments away from returning to the love of his life.
He missed you more than he dared admit to anyone. And he was a little ashamed of how an ordinary woman without Grisha's powers, like you, could have such power over him.
NO. You were not ordinary. You were his wife, friend, lover, support, rock, asylum, home. The only one to whom he entrusted his heart and soul voluntarily and without the slightest hesitation.
And with this gift his sister gave him, Aleksander will make sure you stay with him forever. That you'll live as long as he does. Neither of them, nor he, Baghra, nor his sister knew if this "gift" would work.
But Aleksander would be damned if he didn't try to keep you in his arms forever.
It didn't matter how many times he failed, trying to make you his equal, trying to turn you into a Grisha with similar powers to his. He was ready to do everything for you.
Aleksander sped up seeing your house. In his haste, he didn't even notice that he had lost his mother and that the scenery around him seemed to be getting darker and more frightening.
He practically leapt off his horse and raced to the door, opening it and rushing inside as fast as he could.
"Y/N?! Sweetheart, I'm home!" he shouted, expecting that as soon as you heard his voice, you would come running, throwing yourself into his arms.
But he was greeted by nothing but a terrible, deadly silence.
The scattered things in the corridor made him slightly anxious, but he dismissed his dark thoughts by saying that you were a little mess. However, after he still didn't hear any response from you, he started to worry.
He entered the living room only to find shattered furniture, an overturned bookshelf, and a broken window.
He panicked. He went mad with fear, screaming your name and running around the house like crazy, looking for you or any clues to where you might have run away.
His heart stopped when he found your battered body under an overturned wardrobe.
In the blink of an eye, he got you out from under the furniture and took you in his arms, trying to bring you back to consciousness.
"Y/N, please, Y/N, open your eyes! You can't leave me, not like that! Y/N! My sweet wife, my heart, please open your eyes!" he was shaking you in panic, begging all the saints to prove his dark suppositions wrong.
"Aleksander?" your quiet, tearful whisper both relieved him and broke his heart.
You lived. He hasn't lost you yet.
NO.
He couldn't lose you. He has to take you to the healer.
"Yes, love, it's me. Everything is fine now. I got you. Just stay with me until I get a help."
"You promised to protect me... why didn't you protect me, Aleksander? Have you stopped loving me?" your desperate whimper tore his soul in half. He began to shake all over, despising the feeling of helplessness and distress that had completely taken over him.
"What? No, I'll always love only you..." he felt your body suddenly go limp in his arms. He gripped your shoulders even tighter, shaking you in his panic attack. "Y/N? Y/N?! Y/N open your eyes! Y/N no! Don't leave me! Darling, no!" he screamed desperately in pain, burying his head in your hair and crying as he knelt on the floor and rocked with your cold body in his arms.
~•♤♤♤•~
Aleksander sprang from his bed.
The general was breathing fast, trying to calm himself after another nightmare involving you.
His beautiful wife. His epic love.
For hundreds of years, the day he lost the only love of his life played out in his nightmares in different ways. This time, his subconscious was kind enough to let him talk to you for a while. Usually, he finds your body either impaled or dismembered. He never managed to save you. With none of those dreams.
His dreams might have macabred the events of that day, but he had never, in all those hundreds of years of his life, forgotten what really happened. He has not forgotten the grief, anger, sadness, and despair that overcame him when he and Baghra found their village burned to the ground without any trace of you.
Despite his search, he still didn't know what really happened to you, and he doubted he'd ever find out the truth. If all this had happened a few years later, if he hadn't been a boy just discovering the true power growing within him then, but the man he is now, you'd never despair like that. You'd never leave him to mourn over the future you two could have if only he was more powerful.
He was trying to fool himself. Telling himself that if you survived, you would have lived a much better life than you'd lived with him by your side. What could he have given you, then? An uncertain future, living in hiding, being hunted by the king's men? You were worth much more. You were worth all the jewels and treasures of this land, safety, peace, family, and happiness. Aleksander couldn't give you that. Not then.
He couldn't remember how many sleepless nights he'd spent wishing he could meet you now, to have you by his side, when he was this powerful man who could look after you properly, who would throw the world at your feet or burn it to the ground, depending on your humour.
But every time the sun came up and he had to continue playing his new role, the bitter reality made him realise that he would never have you again. He will never feel your soft skin under his fingers again, never lose himself in those beautiful, mesmerising irises, never run his hand through your hair, never take in your wonderful, intoxicating scent, and never taste your alluring, feisty lips again.
He was alone. And he will be until the end.
Until he widens the fold and makes sure no more Grisha dies at the hands of common otkazat'sya. That none of his people will repeat your fate.
He was supposed to change the world - in memory of his Y/N.
And then, maybe fate will be kind enough to reunite him with his beloved wife on the other side.
~•♤♤♤•~
Alina Starkov was a pain in the ass.
It took the girl only 15 minutes to run away from Kirigan's Grishas and get herself into trouble. She has damn luck that you decided to follow her and rescue her sunny ass.
You disappeared as soon as you made eye contact with her after you burned the Fjerdans with your pale, white light.
You wandered through the forest, cursing under your breath at the carelessness of both sun and shadow summoners. You didn't know which was worse, the impetuous girl or the thoughtless general who just let her get away.
With helpers like that, you'll have to work twice as hard to make the fold bigger. Fate really had no mercy on you.
You stood by the river, sighing in relief as you washed the blood from your face with cold water.
Your moment of peace didn't last long, however. You sensed an additional presence—someone creeping towards you. You took out one of your daggers and braced yourself for an attack.
But the moment you turned to face your opponent, you froze.
Aleksander...
He was standing in front of you. In a black kefta, a man so like your husband that just looking at him hurts you more than any blade could. This gaze, this face, were hunting you each night, every time you closed your eyes. And now he was standing right before you.
And the worst of it all was that it wasn't your Aleksander.
Only his descendant looking just like him. A shell that resembles the only man you've ever loved.
In your rage, you attacked him first, taking out your anger on him for the saints for continuing to play you mercilessly by putting your husband's doppelgänger in your way.
But Kirigan did not give up so easily. As soon as you moved towards him, he too snapped out of his strange daze and drew his dagger as well. The clang of metal echoed across the clearing as you both tried to find the other's weak spot. Oddly enough, you both did it at the same time.
"Put that down and I'll consider whether or not to spare your life." he growled, holding your arm in a tight grip as he felt your nails digging through the skin on his hand.
"Femoral artery. You'll bleed out faster than me." you replied with a malicious smirk, ignoring his threats.
"Who are you?"
"My mother taught me better than to make friends with the stranger freak in the forest, sir. Especially when they have a dagger dangerously close to my back." you kicked him, pushing him away from you, and attacked again. The clanking of steel against each other echoed across the clearing as your daggers met halfway. You growled in frustration, pushing him away.
"Your mother should teach you not to attack everyone you meet. You may encounter someone much stronger than you." Kirigan recovered faster this time, storming at you.
You ended up in a rather uncomfortable position as you held the steel against his heart and he wrapped his arm halfway around you, pulling you close. You didn't know if you were more dissatisfied with the metal digging into your chest or with his hands on you.
"And yours that you shouldn't raise a hand against a woman. I guess they both failed."
Did you both just say the exact same thing when you first met your husband? Yes.
Will he get lenient treatment from you just because he looks like your Aleksander? Absolutely fucking no.
Taking advantage of his moment of inattention as he stared at you distractedly, you pulled out the second hidden dagger and placed it against his neck. You tried to push his hand away from you, but the man, feeling the extra-cold blade against his skin, woke up from his trance and grabbed your left hand aggressively.
He moved your blade away from his neck and pinned you to the tree, slamming your left hand hard against the trunk, making the weapon fly out of your hand and bury itself in the ground near his foot.
Kirigan pressed his dagger to your side, leaning closer to you. He stared intently into your eyes, and for a brief moment you saw longing flicker in his dark eyes, which then gave way to rage and frustration, equal to the one that exploded inside you the moment you saw him. The moment you noticed that saints still played cruel with you by creating someone so damn similar to your husband.
He has no right to have the same face and eyes as your lost love.
"What. Are. You?" he asked, pausing on each word to intimidate you and bring his face closer to yours. But you didn't care much. You have hundreds of years; nothing, especially the doppelgänger of the man you love, could scare you.
You stared at each other with hostile eyes, and for some reason (other than your dagger at his thigh), he had some sort of hatred for you as well. So much so that he didn't notice how your powers reached for each other where your skin touched.
Strangely, it felt familiar to you. HE felt familiar.
You stared into each other's eyes as you unknowingly leaned in closer. You were about to try to break free from his grip when a sudden snap of branches caught your attention.
"That's you! She saved me from the Frejdans, sir." Alina's voice pulled him out of this strange moment between you two.
You wanted to find a sun summoner. You spent several hundred years on this, but the girl had hellishly bad timing.
Kirigan moved away from you, but you both continued to aim your daggers at each other, not trusting each other for a moment. Even though Alina just admitted that you saved her life.
"Why did you do that?"
"Someone so powerful like you should recognise when they stand before their equal, general Kirigan." you sneered, glancing for a moment at the woman standing next to both of you. Fortunately, nothing happened to her. She had a few scratches, but nothing that even the most ordinary medic couldn't heal.
"And how exactly are we equal?"
You smirked mischievously as you slipped the dagger into your sheath.
You linked your hands, focusing on the warm feeling of your light coursing through your veins, and without taking your eyes off the general's, you pulled them apart, revealing a thread of white light. You spread your arms wider, causing the rays to illuminate the clearing around you.
They both stared at you in amazement as your light turned into stars, which then arranged themselves into constellations. Figures of saints ran around you until you flicked your wrist to make them disappear.
"Melinoe Petrova. Moon Summoner. I think the three of us are going to change the world together."
You watched the speechless Alina with satisfaction, but your smile faded as you shifted your gaze to Kirigan. You had some difficulty reading him, but even more so understanding the longing in his eyes.
It seems your problems with a shadowman have only just begun…
~•♤♤♤•~
Kirigan didn't trust you.
You weren't surprised by it, but you hoped it would be easier for you to manipulate him. Apparently, the descendant of Aleksander inherited family cunning and distrust.
It's been a month since your little encounter (and fight) in the woods. In the meantime, you've been living in the Little Palace with the other Grishas; you met the king and got your own fancy kefta.
Black kefta. With moons, stars, and so on.
You wouldn't care about the colour of the fabric if it didn't turn out that only Kirigan wore one. Bloody Alina was the first to find Genya and get herself a blue one. So you stayed in your black kefta, pretending the general wasn't trying to mark you as his property.
But the son of a bitch liked your look in his colours too much for you to accept it.
It didn't help that he was too much like your Aleksander, either. Many times you've held back from taunting, making snide comments, or yelling at him just because those fucking dark eyes looked at you, taking you back hundreds of years to the time when HE was by your side and looked at you like that.
The similarity between them was not only in appearance. They had a lot in common when it came to character traits. Stubborn, mischievous, prescient, well-read... sometimes, when you spent too much time in his war room, you found yourself thinking of him as your Aleksander.
So slowly, despite all your self-loathing, you fell in love with the general.
That's why you were hiding from him in the library, hoping Alina, Zoya, or anyone else would keep him busy tonight enough to forget that you were supposed to meet him after dinner.
You had to suppress that stupid feeling. He was not Aleksander. He was just your husband's doppelgänger. Just a shell of your lover.
"Mel? Are you okey?" Alina's soft, concerned whisper snapped you out of your thoughts.
"I'm fine. Another nightmare?" you asked, patting the space next to you and opening the edge of the blanket for the girl to sit with you.
Your beginnings with Alina were not colourful; the sunny girl irritated you and could easily throw you off balance. But as time passed, you became friends to the point where you comforted her after her nightmares about the fold and the deaths of her loved ones. Sometimes you would read her old Ravkan fairy tales or sneak into the kitchen for hidden sweets. In more critical situations, you would drag her outside to the gardens, where you would sit on the pier by the lake, watching it gleam in the moonlight.
In a way, you too found solace in comforting the girl. It was nice to have company after being alone for so long. Fighting your past, which was showing up in your dreams, was easier with a ray of sunshine by your side.
"No. This time I can't sleep."
"Are you bothered by overly comfortable pillows, or maybe our princess felt a pea under the mattress?" Alina snorted, shaking her head. It took her some time to realise that your sarcastic remarks were not intended to offend her but merely to make her laugh.
"I'm thinking about Mal."
"Oh yeah… your boyfriend and childhood friend, what's up with him?" you asked, slamming the book shut to turn all your attention to the black-haired girl.
"He's not my boyfriend. We are only friends." she murmured, blushing, obviously awkward at your apt comment.
"Sunshine, I can recognise the face and eyes of a woman in love. You can't hide your feelings from me."
"Well, you're not the only one with this gift. Kirigan also gives you an infatuated man's look. Don't deny it! Even Ivan can see it. I think that already half of the second army knows about their general's fondness for the moon summoner." she teased you with a cocky smirk on her face. You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to your book.
"Please, half of the Grishas look at me like that."
You knew what Alina meant. Kirigan looked to you as the solution to his fold problems - as did the other Grishas. Little did they know that instead of being their saviour, you gonna be their worst nightmare... a White Heretic.
"No, not in that way. They look at you, at us, as saints, as saviours who can destroy the fold. He admires you, not your power. And judging by the fact that you're still wearing a black kefta, he's not indifferent to you either."
You inadvertently snuggled deeper into the black material. Alina was partly right; maybe you didn't want to get involved in any romance, but it would definitely be easier to manipulate the general who is infatuated with you. You could have taken advantage of the fact that seeing you in his colours put him in a strangely pleasant mood. You've used your black clothes more than once as a weapon in your negotiations with the dark general.
"I have a black kefta because some irritatingly fast sun summoner found Genya first and got herself a dark blue one. You didn't leave me much choice, Alina."
"How sorry I am for that. By the way, Kirigan asked about you. He waits in his chambers, longing to finally see you after you've been ruthlessly ignoring him all day."
"I'm not done with you, Starkov!" you shouted after her, but the girl was already at the door, sticking her tongue out at you.
"See you in the morning, Petrova! You will tell me about your meeting with the General." she said as she walked away, slamming the library door.
"That little bitch." you muttered under your breath, wondering if you should go. You could have lied to him and said that you didn't meet Alina and forgot about your meeting. You only doubted the sun summoner's loyalty to you...
However, you started gathering your things, knowing full well that you would have to leave the library anyway.
You frowned as you heard soft footsteps behind you that probably no normal human would have heard… at least not one who hadn't lived at least a hundred years of hiding and running.
"Ivan." you greeted him without turning to face him. The man stopped, obviously surprised that you sensed his presence. However, he quickly returned to his unemotional mode.
"Miss Petrova. The General requests your presence in the war room."
"I was on my way." you replied, knowing full well that the man knew the truth. More than once, he chased you around the Little Palace at the general's behest. Fortunately, he had enough sense in his head not to make Kirigan aware that your memory was reliable and you didn't meet him only out of your own reluctance (actually, a huge desire to see him). "Alina just told me he wants to see me."
Ivan nodded and waited for you to escort you to the war room.
~•♤♤♤•~
Considering the fact that you were a regular visitor to Kirigan's war room, you should know the way to his chambers. But each time, you seemed to take a completely different route than the last time.
Ivan had to repay your elusiveness by making the longest trips to the general's room.
But this time, heartrender quickly dropped you off at his general's door and, wishing you good night, disappeared into one of the corridors.
You sighed, not wanting to face your growing infatuation and subsequent attempts to manipulate the general into carrying out your plans today.
You opened the door, entering the "vestibule". You pricked up your ears as you heard Kirigan talking to someone very familiar. Zoya.
"You used to call on me. On times like this. Your table wasn't messy, and in bed, it was me instead of these books. I can help you make it all right. Just let yourself relax." without knowing why, you wanted to go in there and interrupt whatever plan she had to seduce him. And not because you felt jealousy eating you up inside. You were supposed to be the one to lead him by the nose to do whatever you wanted. Not that windy bitch who was ruining your plan.
"I shall relax when my moon summoner comes here to help me with this. With her by my side, you don't need to worry about me anymore. I'm with the perfect helper." you chuckled internally, wanting so much to see the look on her face after he had rejected her. You figured this would be the perfect time to step in.
"Am I disturbing?" you asked as you walked inside.
If Zoya was an inferni, the general's room would probably go up in flames at the sight of you. Kirigan, on the other hand, seemed very pleased to see you. His eyes were focused only on you. And your black nightgown, over which you threw on (also the black) kefta he ordered.
"Not at all. Zoya was about to leave a few minutes ago."
"General." he said. Kirigan did not even glare at her as she bowed to him. She walked past you, giving you a hostile look, which you only smirked at.
"Didn't you forget something?" Kirigan's sharp question broke the silence between the three of you. Zoya stood immobile, as if engraved. She stared at the general for a moment, then clenched her hands into fists and bowed to you.
"Miss Petrova." she growled, then stormed out of the war room, slamming the door.
"It wasn't necessary. You'll only infuriate her more by forcing her to show me respect." you said, turning to face the general, who was suddenly right behind you. He was the only one who could sneak up on you. A skill he used extensively.
"You're the moon summoner… you'll get all the respect you deserve. I'll make sure about it." he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"You can't make people do it. Respect is something that has to be earned, something that has no meaning if it is given involuntarily." his silence surprised you. He usually answered your words with 10 of his. But now he was staring at you silently, which didn't help your already fast-beating heart. "So what do we have on the agenda today, general? Arguments about whether we really need First Army soldiers or you don't know where Loavana is."
"I know where Loavana is. I was tired then, and besides, you were the one who turned the map and misled me."
"Of course, general." you snorted, smiling teasingly. You moved to the other side of the table, tactically increasing the distance between you. "So, did you summon me for any reason other than staring at my natural glow? Because honestly, I'm getting a little bored." you said as you sat down on the table and casually reached for one of the orders he had written.
"Always impatient." he muttered, suddenly appearing in front of you and gently taking the paper from your hand.
"Always too mysterious."
"This may surprise you, but I have other things on my mind than your natural glow, little moon."
"What a shame." you murmured, placing your hand over your heart in a hurt gesture. But you became serious when you saw him staring dully at the map. "What's bothering you?"
"The Fjerdans have moved closer to our border."
"How many?" you asked, jumping off the table and turning your full attention to the distressed general.
"Several branches. Enough to get our attention and attack one of our regiments." he replied, pouring himself a glass of liquor and handing you your own.
"We need to speed up Alina's training. Before all hell breaks loose and our great king orders our troops to be divided to fight the Fjerdans. The fold case must be finally closed. Before we go to another war. For now, we have to send some of our healers and additional troops there. If there are more of Grishas there, no Fjerdan will dare attack them. They will shift their attention to the soldiers of the first army, and this will no longer be a direct problem for us." you turned to him, confused by his silence. Kirigan stared at you with a gentle, tender smile on his face and a longing, dreamy look. The silence between the two of you and the gaze he was giving you embarrassed you. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?"
"No." he grunted, shaking his head as he blushed slightly when you caught him staring. "I just... I was fighting this war alone for so long."
This was the moment. You had to cast your net over him, surround him at his most vulnerable, and make him fall for you.
But you forgot to guard your own heart in the process...
You grabbed his hand. Your powers combined as usual when your skin touched, causing you to be enveloped in the utter darkness of his shadows, with only the white light emanating from your joined hands illuminating your faces.
"You're not alone." you whispered, afraid to break the spell between you. Afraid that the moment your voice reaches him, those damn hypnotic eyes will tear away from yours. Afraid your mind is about to scold the stupid heart that beat for the man before you. A man who, for the sake of your sanity, was too much like the husband you loved.
"I've been waiting a long time for you." he replied just as quietly, afraid to break the sanctity of the moment. Afraid it was another of his cruel dreams where he would have your dead body in his arms again. But the reality was even more brutal for him. Because the woman who stood before him, the woman who looked exactly like his wife, wasn't her at all. And that didn't stop his cold, centuries-old heart from beating for her.
"Believe me, not as long as me." you whispered. Tears began to gather in his eyes, threatening to spill out as he raised his other trembling hand and cupped your cheek. The feel of his cold hand on your face made you realise what you were doing. He was not Aleksander. He wasn't yours. And you will never be his. "I think I should go." you grunted, stepping away from him.
His shadows returned to him, as did your light. Everything has returned to normal. Except for the frantic beating of the hearts of the two of you.
"Don't forget about tomorrow's ball. We're supposed to put on a little show for the king and his nobility."
"How could I forget that we're supposed to be circus monkeys tomorrow?" you asked with a pugnacious smirk, to which he just shook his head in amusement.
"Don't let anyone else hear it. I don't want to visit you in a dungeon… however tempting you look in chains." his bold suggestion shocked you, but you decided to play on without giving him a chance to have the last word. You walked over to him and, ignoring his intense gaze, whispered in his ear with your lips brushing his earlobe.
"I'm not that easy to put in chains, general." you brushed his cheek with yours and disappeared from the war room at the speed of light.
It was something you could do. Game, flirt, chase, challenge—all kept away from any emotion other than lust. It was a game. Manipulation game. And you were going to win it. For your Aleksander and other Grishas.
~•♤♤♤•~
Your dress was so beautiful and wonderful. You admire Genya's skills, but what she did for you this time was indescribable.
With trembling hands, you smoothed the fabric of the dress around your waist, admiring the intricate embroidery of the constellations. The white and silver threads shone in the candlelight like real stars on your dark blue dress.
You didn't like getting dressed up, getting your hair up in a fancy hairstyle, or wearing those uncomfortable ball gowns. In fact, you've only worn formal clothes a few times in your life. But only twice did you feel like a true goddess, a queen. Today and on your wedding day.
"Who put that veil on you?" Baghra's grumpy tone snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You had a lovely dress, even considering that neither you nor Aleksander and his mother had as much money compared to other families. But it didn't matter. Not for you. The most important was Alexander and you. And not the judgmental looks of other people. It was your day and no one could ruin it for you.
"Myself. Something's wrong?"
The woman sighed as she walked over to you and unfastened it with unusual delicacy for her, mumbling something about your blindness as she adjusted your crooked veil.
"Now. You look almost properly. You're missing one thing."
"Which is?"
She reached into the pouch strapped to her side and pulled out something shiny. She gestured for you to turn towards the mirror. You did it while watching a woman put the most beautiful necklace you've ever seen around your neck.
"Bagra is… it's wonderful. I can't…"
"Yes, you can. And you will be. I won't let that old hag gossip about my daughter looking like a poor peasant on her wedding day."
"Thank you." you whispered in a shaky voice, more concerned that the woman called you her daughter than the ridiculously expensive and beautiful necklace.
"Come on. Don't cry, or you'll turn red and scare everyone, including my son. You'd better hurry up. The boy is about to have a heart attack if you're another minute late. If it wasn't for Ulla, he would have run here 10 minutes ago."
"Did she manage to come?" you asked as she took your arm with the obvious intention of walking you down the aisle.
"Of course. That's my daughter. She wouldn't waste the opportunity to tease her crazy-in-love brother." you giggled, not missing her little smile. The woman stopped right in front of the exit door, giving you a serious look. "Y/N, are you absolutely sure you want this? You know our true origins, my boy's character, and all the dark things our family has been through. Are you absolutely sure you want to join this mess? 'Cause once we walk through that door, there's no turning back."
"I think we both know the answer to that question, Baghra."
"No. I need to hear it. Do you truly want this?"
"I dream of nothing more than marrying Aleksander, and spending my whole life with him, no matter how long or short it may be."
The woman nodded silently and opened the door.
A wide smile appeared on your face as soon as your gaze met the clearly nervous Aleksander. He calmed down the moment he saw you, an equally goofy, in-love smirk playing on his lips. And when he finally had you at arm's length, he didn't hesitate to grab your hands in his firm grip, never taking his eyes off yours for a moment.
It was just you and him. Lost in your love.
And so began your little eternity together... shorter than either of you would have liked.
You'll always remember that day, even if it was associated with bittersweet memories of your all-too-short marriage. A single tear fell from your eye. You wiped it with the sleeve of your dress.
Your hand automatically wandered under your dress, absently stroking the Baghra's necklace to which you had attached your wedding ring. The only memento of your past.
In another life, you and Aleksander could have had it all.
"Little moon? Are you ready?" Kirigan entered your room." We're going... soon." you could see in the mirror how he froze as his eyes met your reflection in the silver mirror.
You turned to him, making a sweeping movement with your skirt. You wouldn't waste your chance to be a diva. However, you yourself soon succumbed to a similar blackout as his as soon as you assumed the general's appearance.
The saints really liked to torment you.
There was no other explanation for why the man in front of you looked almost exactly like your husband on your wedding day.
Aleksander couldn't take his eyes off her. She was perfect. Ethereal, otherworldly, and breathtaking. His Y/N... No. She wasn't her. No one could be her, not even a woman with her face. Which didn't stop him from giving himself to this dream that it was his wife standing in front of him. He spent hundreds of years in suffering; maybe this one night he can afford to live in his most beautiful dreams, where SHE would still be with him.
He cleared his throat, snapping you both out of the strange, nostalgic atmosphere.
"You look amazing." you blushed as you turned back to the mirror, pretending to consider the truth of his compliment.
"Thank you. Genya makes wonderful dresses." you reached for the kefta thrown over the armchair, but the man beat you to it.
"Please, allow me." you nodded to him. You turned your back to him, waiting for him to put the kefta on your shoulders.
He smoothed it out, letting his hand brush the fabric of your bare collarbones for a moment too long. You shivered as you felt the tiny touch of his fingertips on your bare skin. Good thing the kefta covered most of your bare arms. You didn't want to give him satisfaction for how he was affecting you.
But judging by his dilated pupils, you weren't the only one who felt the attraction between the two of you.
However, you will definitely not be the one to give in to such trivial desires. He was not Aleksander. Nobody could.
"Thank you again." you murmured as you pulled away from him, smiling. You preferred to act oblivious to his advances rather than risk giving in to the lust that was evident between the two of you. Although you knew there would come a point in your little game where you'd have to seduce him a bit to lull his guard down. And you feared that moment more than entering the fold.
"Anytime, love. Shall we?" he asked, offering you his arm. "I hope you spare me at least one dance." he murmured, smiling at you with that flirty twinkle in his eyes as he kissed your hand.
Wonderfully. Now he was supposed to be your personal bodyguard for all night.
You sighed, grabbing his arm. Kirigan pulled you closer as he escorted you through the maze of corridors.
It was going to be a really tough day. - you thought, allowing yourself to steal a glance at the general who was already watching you. - Especially with those eyes so focused on me.
~•♤♤♤•~
The Kirigan left you alone for a moment just before entering the ballroom. You were to wait for him and Alina, and then the three of you were to give little shows of darkness and light.
So you waited patiently until someone bumped into you, knocking you to the floor.
"Watch where you walk!" you growled, dusting yourself off as you got up off the floor. The hooded figure stopped and turned to you. You both froze when you saw your faces.
"Y/N?" Baghra asked in disbelief. "It is impossible." she whispered, coming closer to you and catching your hand in a strong, bruising grip, only to grab your necklace later, which had slipped out from under your dress after you fell. She looked at him tenderly, shifting her gaze to you.
"Hello mom." you whispered uncertainly, fearing your mother-in-law's reaction. She liked you, it's true, but in the meantime, you managed to disappear without a trace for hundreds of years. You didn't know what your relationship was like now. But rather, neither of you could be hostile to the other.
"It's really you… But how? I… we thought you were dead, child. Where have you been all this time?"
"A little here, a little there. Forgive me for not writing or coming. I think you understand perfectly well why I didn't."
"Not even a bit, actually." she replied, confused. You frowned. You've never seen Baghra confused. It was a strange sight, to say the least, and definitely worth remembering.
"You know how dear he was... Aleksander is to me. After his death..."
"Death?" she asked. You didn't know if you misheard or if the surprise in her voice was genuine. She rather knew about his death, didn't she?
"Yes. While creating a fold." you explained, looking at her intently. But Baghra's face never betrayed anything. Not any single emotion. She tucked the necklace under your dress and grabbed your shoulders.
"Oh, my dear child. For all this time..."
"Baghra!" Kirigan's scream echoed through the empty corridor. The woman stepped back from you like she was burned, watching the general with contempt as he approached the two of you. "What are you talking about with my moon summoner? I hope she didn't bother you too much, Miss Petrova."
"Not at all. Actually…"
"I was just leaving, moi soverenyi." the woman interrupted you, giving you an enigmatic look, before she turned her back to you two. "Enjoy yourself, Miss Petrova." she threw over her shoulder as she walked away.
"Crazy woman. But he teaches the young Grisha well. What did she want from you?"
"Nothing special. She asked where I was from and what I was doing here. I don't think she's heard of the new moon summoner yet."
"Probably you are right. Let's go. We've got a show to play."
He took your hand gently and led you to the centre of the room, where Alina was already waiting for you.
You had a simple task. Kirigan summons shadows. Alina, on the other side of the room, her golden rays, and you, the white moonlight that was supposed to connect with her powers, then break up into several constellations.
A child's trick and spectacle for the common folk who treated you like toys all rolled into one.
Everything was going smoothly. Suddenly, the room was completely dark. You waited patiently for Alina's light to appear on the other side of the room. When suddenly someone approached you from behind.
"It's okay, it's me. It's just me, you're safe."
"What are you doing?" you asked as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, taking both of your hands in his.
"Don't you think this is the best place to watch the whole show?" his question confused you. You turned in his arms, miraculously seeing those bloody, dark eyes in the darkness. The mischievous sparks both made your chest feel warm and terrified. The bastard was up to something.
"I doubt it; with my light, you'll barely see Alina's trick."
"Works perfectly for me, my little moon." he whispered against your ear. You tensed as you felt his soft lips on your earlobe.
Suddenly he leaned in, the tip of his nose tracing a path from your ear down your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he inhaled your perfume and those damn distracting lips slid from your ear to your neck.
He started placing small, wet kisses there. Your brain has melted. It stopped working while the general was kissing every sensitive spot on your neck. He read your body so damn well that if it weren't for his quick reflexes and his hand over your mouth, your loud, obscene groan would have echoed in the darkness of the ballroom.
You felt the light involuntarily escape from you and thanked all the saints that you lost control just as Alina finished her part.
You tried to push the shadow summoner away from you, but your attempts were so futile (and reluctant) that you quickly gave up, focusing on doing your job with his intoxicating mouth and roaming hands on you.
The son of a bitch was lucky to stay in the shadows, unseen by anyone but you.
You internally cursed yourself for how much easier it was to do the whole trick with him around.
To your great disappointment, he moved away from you just before the grand finale. You were panting, trying to calm your wildly beating heart, and breathing as the light began to take over the ballroom.
And those fucking dark eyes and smug smirk were the first damn thing you saw when you and Alina lit up the room.
People started applauding. Kirigan came up to you and grabbed your hand, and after Alina joined you, you bowed to everyone, gathering an ovation. You glanced briefly at Kirigan, who was staring at your neck. You just hoped he didn't leave a hickey in plain sight. But judging by the way his smirk widened and the way he ran away from you as soon as you were surrounded by a crowd of people, you assumed you had a new, not-so-visible yet bruise on your skin.
You'll kill him as soon as you get your hands on him.
~•♤♤♤•~
You stand in the darkness of his war room, waiting for him to finally appear. You played with the dagger in your hands, contemplating meeting Baghra. You felt something was wrong, something was missing. The woman's behaviour both helped you and, after the general's arrival, gave you a lot to think about. She was hiding something. But what?
you sighed. If only Aleksander was here. It would save you a lot of trouble. Among other things, intimidating his doppelgänger, who started to stick to you too much - much to your tacit approval.
But you were aware that this attraction was only due to his resemblance to your Aleksander. In a few decades, Kirigan will die too. And you will be completely alone again.
The sound of his boots hitting the floor snapped you out of your thoughts. You braced yourself for an attack and jumped on him just as he flanked the door and stepped inside. You pinned him against the wall with a dagger to his neck as he gave you a surprised, amused look.
"Hello, moonlight. Do you like the ball?"
"What the hell was that?!" you growled, pressing the blade against his skin as you made a small, harmless cut.
"You put a dagger to my neck far too often, darling." he noted, frowning as droplets of blood decorated the silver metal.
"Don't change the fucking subject! You have no damn right to act like this. Lay your hand on me like that again, and I'll make sure you don't have anything to summon your shadows with, general."
"So my lips on your incredibly alluring soft skin were no problem for you, my sweet moon?" he asked maliciously, raising an eyebrow. You growled, irritated by his arrogance. You guessed you preferred it when he responded to your attack with his own dagger.
"Do that again, and you won't live to see another moment to find out."
"You forget..." he mumbled, suddenly grabbing your hand holding the blade and wrapping his other around your neck. He pinned you against the wall, making sure there was no space between you two. "That you're not the only one with power here."
"You'd better let me go, little shadow, before you unleash hell you can't stop." you growled, summoning your light, which immediately met his shadows. You fought, jostling with your powers and staring hard into each other's eyes. You weren't going to lose this fight.
"You underestimate me, darling. I'm more than able to face any of your hell."
You didn't know why, but that sentence, the confidence in his eyes, the arrogance in his voice, and the same immense need that was hiding under both yours and his mask of restraint changed something between you two.
His already dark eyes were practically taken over by black pupils that stared at you lustfully. The intoxicating smell of his perfume, the warmth of his body, and those damn big, cool hands on your hot skin only made you accept your spur-of-the-moment decision.
With his hand still tightly wrapped around your neck, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.
You both groaned in unison. Your only consolation in this situation was that before your hands hooked on his strong arms, holding on tightly for fear your legs would give out, you could hear his dagger first drop to the marble floor, seconds before your blade.
You only broke apart for a moment before quickly removing the other's kefta and catching the other's lips again. You fought for control, biting into the other's lip every now and then, which only met with more resistance and the will to fight. Neither you nor he were made to lose.
At one point, he grabbed you by the waist, wrapping your legs around him as he carried you to the nearest flat surface—the war table. With one flick of his hand, he swept all the maps, papers, and other stuff off him onto the floor and practically threw you onto a wooden table.
You gasped in shock as your body suddenly hit the wood, which Kirigan quickly took advantage of. He dug into your mouth, his tongue grazing yours as he tried to dominate you once again.
You growled, grabbing the back of his black shirt and tearing the fabric to get to his skin, where you didn't hesitate to leave blood crescents in the shape of your fingernails.
He hissed away from your kiss-swollen lips and bit into the same damn spot on your neck where he had dared leave a hickey before.
Aleksander...
You froze. It wasn't Aleksander. It will never be your Aleksander again. No matter how damn similar they were.
Kirigan continued to kiss your neck when you finally decided, with a heavy heart, to push him away with a gentle kick.
You both stared at each other, gasping for breath. Kirigan took a hesitant step towards you and raised his hand to gently stroke your cheek. But you jumped off the war table before his skin could touch yours and start your kissing session all over again.
You had to escape from there. As soon as possible.
"I... I should go." you mumbled, shoving past him to pick up the kefta that had been thrown on the floor by him.
"Wait a second..." he followed you but stopped the moment his eyes met yours again. You both wanted each other. You were both held back by the very same thing that attracted you in the first place.
"We have a hard day tomorrow. Make sure Ivan wakes up Alina; she's not such an early riser after all." you mumbled in panic, backing towards the door.
"Melinoe." he tried to stop you, but your hand on the doorknob was faster. You opened the door, and without looking back, you threw over your shoulder:
"Good night, general."
You ran to your room, and before anyone could stop you, you shut the door. Tears began to flow freely from your eyes as you slid to the floor.
For a moment, a fleeting little moment, you were Y/N again. You were that 20-year-old girl kissing her husband again. But Kirigan could never be Aleksander. And even if you gave him your heart, he would shatter it to pieces over time when he, like other descendants of your Aleksander, reached old age. You were doomed to be lonely. But the fact that a person with eyes, a face, and a mind so like your husband was at your fingertips wasn't helpful to your already broken soul at all.
You just wanted to have your husband in your arms again. Was it so much for the saints to accomplish? You sobbed piteously until you fell asleep on the floor from exhaustion.
Little did you know that a few floors above you, someone was also mourning their dead significant other. And he also cursed fate for putting in his path a woman so similar to the one for whom he would give everything he held dear.
One thing was certain. The longer you stayed in the presence of the other, the more you lost your mind. But neither of you was ready to deprive yourself of the toxic pleasure of seeing the living face of your beloved, lost spouse.
~•♤♤♤•~
As planned, the next day you headed towards the border with Fjerdans. Neither you nor the general spoke to you most of the way, which Alina and Baghra noticed. Yes. Baghra went with you. The general was just as shocked as you, but surprisingly, he didn't argue with the woman about her unannounced presence.
The only thing you were afraid of during this trip was crossing the land where your village used to be. Aleksander's house and yours. It also didn't help that you were supposed to be there on the exact anniversary of his death - the creation of the fold.
You thought it would be easier for you to ride a horse through the only place where you were happy, but the wave of memories flooding you did not allow you to pass by indifferently.
"You'll never catch me!" you run away from him, laughing.
"If I catch you, the game will be over. But since you're insulting my capabilities…" you yelled as you ran away when Aleksander rushed to you.
You ran along the river, looking over your shoulder every now and then to make sure your boyfriend wasn't right behind you.
Suddenly, a cloud of shadows appeared in front of you, from which your Sasha came out and grabbed you by the waist. You thrashed in his embrace, causing you both to fall to the ground, laughing.
"Aleksander! You shouldn't use it in public!" you scolded him, punching him lightly in the chest.
"We are in the middle of the forest. There are only us and some animals."
"Still it is risky for you. Don't make me tell your mother about this."
"Could you please stop threatening me with my own mother?" he groaned, throwing you off him, to which you squealed indignantly. You stared with your daggers at the man lying before you with a mischievous smirk and an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"Since I found out she likes me and trusts me more than you? No, it's too funny, my grumpy shadow-man." you laughed. You rolled your eyes as you watched his expression growl. You climbed on top of him and kissed the crease that had formed between his eyebrows from your comment. "I'm soooo sorry, Sasha. You know how much I love you, right? You're the most important person in my life, Aleksander Morozova."
"And you in mine, Y/N Y/L/N." he murmured, grabbing your cheek and pulling you into a sweet, slow kiss. You purred, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours - something you'll never get tired of. He pulled away from you far too quickly. He licked his lips, looking at you nervously. You raised an eyebrow, questioningly. "Y/N... can I ask you a question?"
"Right now? I thought you gonna kiss me a little longer, but if it's so important." he chuckled, shaking his head, as he leaned down to catch your lips in a kiss again.
"Happy, lapushka?"
"Not really, but I'll try to survive a few minutes without your lips on mine." he chuckled, but you knew from the features of his face and the gentle clasping of his shoulders that something was bothering him. You just hoped he wouldn't have to leave with his mother again... "What did you want to ask me?" Aleksander cleared his throat, taking your hands in his trembling.
"You know that I love you. I can't imagine how my life would have turned out if you hadn't put that dagger to my throat five years ago right here."
"I knew I recognized this place from somewhere." you cut him off, looking around the clearing. Aleksander laughed, catching your attention again as you blushed at how stupidly you interrupted him. But it seemed to help him relax, judging by the way his hand confidently reached out to cup your cheek.
"You make me laugh. Even on the darkest, worst of days. Just one look at those wonderfully beautiful eyes is enough to completely change my mood. One word from you and all my plans and beliefs fall into oblivion. You are the light in my darkness. The only good thing that happened to me. The only person who isn't afraid of what I can do. The only person who looks at me with such adoration despite my shadows."
"You know I love them. I love all of you, Sasha. Nothing will change that." you replied with tears in your eyes, suspecting what his confession would lead to.
"I know I have nothing worth you and that the life I can offer you is nothing compared to what you deserve, but you know me better than I know myself... I would go crazy if I wasn't the only man who has the privilege of seeing your face first thing every morning and falling asleep in the presence of your beauty. I'd go crazy if someone else could be called yours..." Aleksander took a simple gold ring with a small black gem from his pocket.
You gasped, knowing full well how much money he must have spent on even such a simple engagement ring. Baghra was supposed to skin your fiancé when she figured out what he wasted their money on.
"Sasha..." you whispered, crying, moving your gaze towards him.
"Y/N, kei onolich yash (will you marry me)? Will you be my wife?" too moved to answer him, you pulled him into a kiss. You both smiled like idiots. "I'm guessing it's yes then, but I'd rather hear it from you before I tell everyone else."
"Yes. Yes, I will marry you, you idiot. You didn't have to buy me a ring, Sasha. I would say yes without it."
"I wanted to make sure you wouldn't reject me." he replied with a mischievous smirk, putting it on your finger. You huffed and punched him lightly on the shoulder. The ring sparkled in the moonlight. Your face hurts from smiling. "I promise you, Y/N one day I'll give you the prettiest, flashiest ring in all of Ravka."
"And I will still prefer the one you gave me today." you replied without a second of hesitation, pulling your fiancé into another kiss.
The Kirgian ordered a stop, which everyone accepted with gratitude. And when others Grishas dispersed to their tasks, you decided to go to the place where your house and Aleksander's once stood.
Since you were already a stupid girl, as Baghra so nicely called you, this little trip shouldn't hurt you. You'd rather be stupid and crazy—completely mad from love—than ever forget about Aleksander and move on.
And that's how you got here. By the river, close to the place where you used to be the happiest in the world, and now you were shedding a sea of tears over the life you lost.
"I will build you a palace."
"What?" you asked, giggling as you looked away from the stars to your husband lying next to you on the grass.
Sensing the movement of your head, he turned around to look at you closely. You both loved nights like these. Your hands intertwined as you both lay on the ground looking at the stars and talking about your day, your plans, and your dreams. It was a sacred ritual between the two of you that you performed at least once a week.
"A palace. For you and our future children. A safe place where we can live with our little family."
"Sasha... I don't need a palace to feel safe with you. You are my shelter. My protector. What we have now is more than enough."
"That little hut where we barely fit in with our stuff, even though we don't have much anyway? NO. You deserve all the treasures of this world, Y/N" he murmured, stroking your cheek tenderly.
You sighed, pressing your cheek against his hand, enjoying every ounce of his attention. It's been getting more and more dangerous around here lately. You seldom had time to spend together; you were too busy with the Grisha needing your help. But you didn't mind. As long as Aleksander's eyes gave you that loving, adoring look at least once a day, you were ready to face anything to get back into his waiting arms.
"I already have one." he raised an eyebrow questioningly, looking at you in surprise. You just smiled, pulling him to you by the chin and connecting your lips in a kiss. Aleksander rolled over and hovered over you, not breaking your tender kiss. You placed your hands on his cheeks and gently pulled him away, looking into his eyes. No stars in the sky could match the brilliance of his dark irises. "You are my treasure. With you by my side I want nothing more. You're all I need to be happy, Sasha." you mumbled, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. Aleksander buried his face in your hands, closing his eyes for a moment and surrendering to this tender gesture.
"You deserve much more, milaya. And I promise, by all the saints and stars in the sky, I'll give you the world."
"Everything in time, Aleksander. Now, kiss your wife and show her how much you love her." you giggled as his long hair tickled your cheeks as he dutifully caught your lips in another sweet kiss.
"Was he really worth it?" Baghra's question cut through your sobs. You wiped your tears, not wanting to cry in front of her, and turned to face her. "Wouldn't you rather curse him for creating a fold and for leaving you than mourn the bastard that was my son? Y/N, child, you have eternity ahead of you. An eternity where you can be happy. Is Aleksander worth wasting it?" you laughed bitterly, knowing the answer to her question all too well. Nothing has changed over the centuries. And you knew nothing would change your feelings.
"You know very well that I will never know happiness again. Not without him. I've never done that in all these years."
"There had to be a moment. Even the smallest." she tried desperately to convince you. You dropped your head, remembering those few moments between you and Kirigan in Little Palace.
"There was. Next to a man who looked like him. But after a while, it dawned on me that he would never be Aleksander. Call me and think about me however you want. Pathetic child, crazy woman… But the truth is, I loved your son, Baghra, and I will always love only him. Our hearts were created by the saints as one and divided in two, placing one in Aleksander and the other in me. There is no one in the world I could love like him, with whom I could be truly happy. This type of love never dies, Baghra. Even separated by a grave."
"What if you got him back? If he was with you, but he wasn't the same man you remember?"
"It wouldn't matter. We are all changing. I know I would love him as much as I did then."
"I just hope you know what you want, child. And that maybe he'll go back to who he used to be because of you." she sighed, leaving you alone with your grief. You frowned, analysing her vague words.
It wasn't until it started to get dark that you got up from your knees and brushed the dirt off your clothes. You were about to leave when the crunch of branches caught your attention. A foolish hope rose in you and you lifted your head, only to meet your eyes with the Kirgian.
"General. I was just returning to camp." he nodded his head without a word.
Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned to take one last look at what used to be your home. You sighed tremblingly as a lone tear rolled down your cheek.
And you whistled.
It was a fragment of an old Ravkan song about lovers returning home after a long journey to throw themselves into each other's arms, longing for separation. You and Aleksander adored it. And you decided that every time one of you left home, you would whistle that particular verse that stuck in your mind.
In storm-black mountains, I wander alone
Over the glacier I make my way
A cool breeze caressed your hot (from crying) skin. But the goosebumps that formed on your arms weren't from the cold at all.
"In the apple orchard stands the maiden fair and sings, When will you come home?"
You froze. Incapable of anything but breathing. You misheard. It's just one of your stupid fantasies, your mind playing tricks on you, or another cruel dream about how you got back the man you loved. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be real.
But the man holding your arm in a tight grip and turning you around to face him felt very real. AND ALIVE.
"Sasha?" you whispered tearfully, shaking all over, and if it wasn't for his strong grip on both of your arms, you probably would have fallen to your knees in front of him long ago, unable to do anything other than stare hopefully at the man in front of you.
Aleksander's heart shuddered and threatened to burst as the pet name, unused for hundreds of years, reached his ears. In an instant, you were on his chest as he hugged you with all his might. With your ear to his heart, you listened to his beating, and for the first time in hundreds of years, you cried WITH HAPPY.
"It's me, milaya. My sweet Y/N, my moon, my heart, my wife. It's me."
You heard him through a haze, too intent on his eyes to understand anything more from his speech. It was him. Your Aleksander. All this time. He was saying something to you, but you completely ignored him as something gold around his neck shimmered in the moonlight. You pulled the chain from under his jacket, sighing as you saw his wedding ring hanging securely on his necklace. A sob of disbelief escaped you. It was really him.
His hand cupping your cheek caused your watery gaze to shift back to those dark, beloved eyes.
"No more tears, milaya. You do not have to worry. From now on, I will never leave your side again. Not for a single bloody second."
And that was enough for you.
Grabbing his hair, you pulled him closer to you to feel his lips on yours as soon as possible. It wasn't one of those soft, gentle, unhurried kisses that lovers share after they meet after some separation.
It was intense, desperate, and needy, expressing your deadly longing for each other's lips through those painful years without each other. You didn't have the strength to hold back, to pretend you didn't miss that exact feeling all those lonely nights.
It didn't matter that your tears mixed and you could taste their salty taste on each other's lips. It didn't matter that your lungs were burning for air. It didn't matter that you had already fallen to your knees, too shaken by the feeling of the other's lips, but both of you longed too much for this closeness between you to deprive yourself of the warmth of the other's body even for a millisecond. It didn't matter if your lips were too swollen to decently go back to camp and pretend nothing had happened between you two.
You sincerely doubted that you would be able to take even a step towards the camp. Not after you trembled in Aleksander's lap as his hands caressed every inch of your skin.
But the moment came when you had to pull away from each other, cursing the need for air. You rested your forehead against his, inhaling his scent and clinging to his kefta to be as close to him as possible.
You both knew that there was no way you were going to be an arm's length away from each other. And you were seriously considering sticking with him permanently. His dark cloak looked big enough for you to hide under it too.
You couldn't believe your luck. He was here. With you. You had his arms around you again as you both clung desperately to each other.
Your Aleksander. Your husband. Your loved one. Your heart.
He had you again. His wife. His soulmate. His sanity. His equal. HIS EVERYTHING.
You wanted to pull away for a moment to look at his face again, but something tugged at your neck, bringing your head to Aleksander's shoulder. You looked down. Your necklaces are tangled.
"Seriously? It couldn't have happened a month ago?" you groaned as you tried to untangle your chains. You smiled, hearing how your husband laughed carelessly for the first time in centuries, since the day he lost you. "We'll never hear the end of it from Baghra, you know about it Sasha?" you asked, resting your forehead against his as you gave up on releasing the two of you. It didn't matter that everything was against you again. At least now you finally have Aleksander with you. YOUR real Aleksander.
"She had already called me a blind fool before she made me come here. I think we'll hear a lot from her about our stupidity." he murmured. You shivered as you felt his fingertips on your neck as he untied your intertwined necklaces effortlessly. He unclasped yours and, with great delicacy, placed the ring on your finger.
"Remind me to thank your mother for making you come here later." you replied, making sure his wedding ring was on his finger as well. Maybe you won't scare all the bitches away from him, but at least you'll make it clear that he belongs only to you. After hundreds of years without him, you have the right to be territorial.
"Later?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You don't think I'm going anywhere other than your tent and your bed right now, do you?"
"Our bed." he murmured before grabbing you in bridal style and heading for your tent. "By the way, I must commend you for how bravely you resisted the charms of someone who wasn't me. I barely managed to kiss you properly before you pushed me away."
"I don't know what I should do to you. Slap you for groping someone who had my face, or kiss you for only being attracted to my beauty."
"You have to admit, you didn't resist me much back then, my little saint." he murmured, kissing you again. He ran his hand through your hair, pulling you all the way onto him so he could feel your weight on him. You were with him. Body and soul. And it wasn't a dream. "Let's go to that tent before I have my way with you here and now." he muttered, getting up.
"Wait." you grabbed his hand. He turned to you, giving you a questioning look as he found you still kneeling on the grass. "Before we do anything. We both agree that we are not going to destroy the fold, right?"
Aleksander held his breath. He forgot how damn perfect you were. How you fit in and understood him in every way. And only the slight ounce of control he had left was keeping him from lunging at you right now as you kneeled in front of him with those beautiful, mesmerising eyes staring at him.
But after all, Aleksander was only human. A man whose cruel fate separated him from his beloved wife for many centuries…
He pulled you close to him in one swift motion. You crashed into his chest, completely unprepared for the sudden movement, but his intoxicating lips on yours compensated for your shock.
You moaned into his mouth as he pulled away from you so as not to lose his control completely.
"Saints, you have no idea how much I've missed you, my little moon."
"I'll take it as a yes." you replied, giggling as he put his arm around you. As you'd guessed, you fit perfectly with him under his cloak. You sighed, intoxicated by his scent.
"You know so well that I'll do anything for you. The fact that our plans coincide only proves that we belong to each other. And only to each other."
"Always, Sasha. I'm yours for eternity." you replied, smiling slightly as you turned to steal a glance at him.
"And I'm yours for the rest of our lives and beyond." he murmured, kissing your forehead.
You practically ran through the camp, ignoring Baghra's knowing, malicious look and the shocked expressions of Alina, Zoya, and Ivan (at which you giggled, causing Aleksander a small, tender smile) and Fedyor's smirk. You entered his tent, laughing as you started kissing while taking off each other's clothes.
"I hope you realize we don't leave this tent for at least a week?" he asked as he laid you down on the bed. However, the bastard didn't wait for your response, stealing a kiss from you.
"They'll be looking for you, Sasha." you mumbled between your kisses and grabbed his cheeks to make him focus on something other than your lips.
"What a pity I'll be too busy with my wife to notice anyone else but her." he lowered his head to your neck, making your hands tangle in his hair. You sighed, feeling his tongue on your skin just before he gently bit you.
"I thought we had a battle to win." he suddenly stopped all his movements. He intertwined your ringed hands and cupped your cheek with the other, forcing you to look into his eyes.
"My little moon, I'll postpone any goddamn war for you. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you and never will be." he promised, pressing his lips to yours.
You moaned, enjoying the long-forgotten feeling of his skin against yours as well as knowing that your love would never die.
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Reader
Summary: You're hiding in your bedroom with a horrible headache. It doesn't take long until your husband finds you.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.1k
Author’s Note: Something short and soft because I'm sick AGAIN for the 6th time in the past two months :) This isn't edited and I'm not a native English speaker
Dinner will start soon and most people will expect you to show up as a sort of filler for your husband who never finds the time, but you can't summon the energy to move. Not when you know that as soon as you open your eyes you'll be in horrible pain again.
Hiding in the shadow of several pillows you've piled up to block out the rest of the light the curtains couldn't stop you lay on your bed, listening to the distant, familiar noises of the Little Palace.
You hear servant girls giggling in the hallways, a few younger grisha are discussing something from their classes outside and loudest of all you can hear the steps of your husband approaching your shared chambers.
Waiting for him to grab whatever he needs from the map room or his office and disappear again you're surprised when the door to your bedroom opens, the intruder stepping inside as quietly as possible with those big boots of his before closing the door behind him.
Genya or perhaps Fedyor must've told him that you're feeling unwell, otherwise he would not be here yet.
"Are you alright, milaya? Genya said you're not feeling well." He whispers and you can hear the familiar noise of him removing his kefta and hanging it up in your shared wardrobe.
"Headache" You answer just as quietly, knowing that any loud noises would definitely only make things worse right now.
Aleksander hums and now you hear how he unties and removes his boots before he steps over to the bed, mattress dipping down when he lays down next to you.
"Do you want me to block out the lights?" He asks carefully, and before you even get a chance to answer the room begins to darken.
You keep your eyes tightly shut until its pitch black in the room, carefully turning around towards your lover. He's keeping a respectable distance from you, waiting for you to come to him in case you want to cuddle, and that type of care from him warms your heart.
Scooting closer you carefully drag your hands over his body until you find his head, cupping his face between your palms carefully.
"Hello" You whisper, the first smile of today appearing on your lips. Now that the light is out the pain is no longer all that overwhelming, but you still decide against resting your head on Aleksanders chest, worrying that the noise of his heartbeat and the blood rushing through his body might make it worse again. Instead you carefully stroke his face with your hands, running your hands over his eyebrows, nose, cheekbones and lips.
You can feel how his own face forms a smile. "Hello" He greets you back, grabbing one of your hands in his and pressing a kiss on your palm. A sigh leaves your lips and you sink deeper into the pillows.
"Thank you for blocking out the light" You murmur, hands now carefully combing through Aleksanders hair. Both of you have been so busy in the last few weeks you don't remember the last time you got to see each other like this and you want to use this opportunity despite your ill state.
"It's nothing. Sundown is almost over anyways, then you can rest in the comfort of the night."
Smiling softly you move to press your forehead against his upper arm, wrapping your arm around his torso and cuddling your body closer against his.
"I prefer the comfort of your shadows, to be completely honest." You confess, grinning when you hear him take in a sharp breath before he turns to his side and pulls you even closer to him, your chest pressing against his as he places a kiss on the top of your head.
He has feared his own powers for decades, it must be quite weird to hear you confess over and over again that you don't fear them, that you instead find comfort and love in the same shadows that kill people without hesitation.
Carefully his kisses move down the side of your head before he finally presses his lips against your throat, grinning when he feels you squirm a bit. He pulls away afterwards, hand moving to your upper back and carefully caressing you there, on top of your nightgown.
"Did you remember to drink enough water today? And how much did you sleep?"
You've had issues with sleeping recently. The concerns of the day haunt you during the night, making it almost impossible for you to find the rest you need. It does not help that your dear husband usually only comes to bed long past midnight as well, meaning you cannot find peace in his embrace either until its already too late for a good night's rest.
"I try" You respond weakly.
"Do you?" Aleksander asks, his fingers now carefully drawing patterns into your back. "Because I distinctively remember you being awake every time I've come back to bed in the past few weeks, despite the fact that you should've already been asleep for hours."
"I can't sleep when you're not next to me" You confess, heat rising to your cheeks when you feel Aleksanders hand freeze for a few seconds before he continues to draw patterns. "You've spoiled me for years, letting me fall asleep next to you, your body pressing against mine and shielding me from the rest of the world. Can you blame me for not being able to go without it now?"
He laughs quietly, head moving to press another kiss onto your foread.
"I spoiled you rotten, didn't I? Well, I can't fix it now. I guess that means I'll have to start going to bed earlier again, hm? Spend more time with my beautiful, charming little wife? Oh what torture."
Playfully hitting his arm you laugh, squeaking when he retaliates by grabbing you and pulling your body under his, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Moving to kiss your neck a few more times he only let's you return to your previous position after he whispered a few soft I love you's against your skin.
"Sleep" He finally says, placing another kiss onto your cheek. You haven't seen him be so deeply affectionate in months and you don't want to loose your chance now, but you're so tired. "I'll stay, I promise. Tomorrow we will eat breakfast together and I'll follow you around the whole day to make sure you drink enough. How does that sound?"
Humming quietly you let him pull you as close to him as possible, his smell so familiar and comforting to you that you're already drifting off to sleep, finally able to rest peacefully.
"Thank you" You whisper, and then you're finally lost in your own unconsciousness.
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x sick!Reader
Summary: Your weak heart has kept you up all night once more and Aleksander is forced to face the fact that the person he loves is still mortal.
Warnings: sick and insecure (and slightly self-sacrificing) reader, conversations about death, the rest is just fluff, I think
Word Count: 1.5k
Authors note: I'm still alive. I'm sorry for taking such a long break without explaining why. I didn't really go online at all for a month because some things came up at the end of december that didn't really leave me alone until very recently. I'll try my best to not repeat this and start working my way through my missed notifications soon.
I'm not a native English speaker, and this isn't really edited at all. The title is from Heart to Heart by Mac DeMarco
When Aleksander wakes in the morning the first thing he notices, before he even fully realizes that he is awake and has to get up, is that he is alone.
Your side of the bed is cold and he curses quietly, fully aware of what this means. He can feel his heart rate shoot up, adrenaline rushing through his body as his thoughts take the worst turn. Quickly standing up he gets dressed for the day, trying his hardest to calm his mind. You're alright. Someone would've notified him if something bad had happened while he was asleep. One of his guards would've woken him up.
He knows this like the back of his hand, yet he pauses as soon as his hand wraps around the cold metal knob of the door that leads into the living room of your shared quarters. His mind is trying to prepare him for the worst. Prepare him to find your dead body curled in on itself on the sofa in front of a cold fireplace, all alone.
He has always hated this habit of yours. This obsession with keeping his day as peaceful as possible, of never bothering him with anything, has led to you refusing to tell him when something is wrong. You've been sick for almost your whole life, your heart a bit weaker than it should be, and every time you have issues with it during the night you leave your shared bed to hide away in a different room to make sure you won't disturb his sleep.
Many times has he asked you to stop, to wake him up so he can help make you more comfortable or call a heartrender to help you in case something is seriously wrong, but you just won't listen. You're trying to protect him from the pain of seeing you suffer, he understands that, but it makes no sense to him. Why are you, a mortal little otkazat'sya, so obsessed with protecting him, an ancient being who most people would argue has lost his humanity centuries ago if they truly knew him as a person?
Most... except you. You have found out about his true nature, about the darkness sleeping in his chest in the place where his soul should sit, and decided that he was worth loving. You saw and embraced all of him, the beautiful and kind, but also the cruel and ugly.
You. A small, mortal otkazat'sya with a sick heart.
The closest thing to a soulmate he thinks he will ever get.
With a last deep breath he finally opens the door and lets his eyes glide through the room, and he can feel his heart jump when he finds you carefully sipping on a cup of tea while sitting in front of a warm, burning fire, gaze focused on the snow silently falling outside.
Your head turns when you hear the door open, eyes lighting up when you see your husband.
"Oh, I'm glad to see you're awake. I sorted your folder for the meeting with the king and his advisors today. I hope I didn't mess up one of your weird sorting system though. I know you have your own way of doing things, but I thought this could-"
Your voice cuts off as soon as he reaches you on the sofa, quickly kneeling down in front of you before pressing his head against your chest. He knows your heart is beating, but he has to hear it right now. Has to hear the soft, familiar rhythm to calm his own heart and reassure him that this is all real, that he isn't dreaming.
You don't continue speaking after the surprise of his sudden movement dies down, instead mowing your hands up to run softly over his head while he listens to your heart pump blood through your body.
It still speeds up when he's close. You're glad it does.
You sit like this for a while, your fingers carefully moving to comb through his thick, ink black hair and loosening any knots that may have formed while he slept alone.
"I told you to stop disappearing." You finally hear him whisper after a few quiet minutes, arms still wrapped tightly around your middle while his head stays pressed against your chest.
"I know, Sasha... but it just wouldn't stop. I wanted to stay with you, but the pain wouldn't go away. I couldn't breathe right because of my own fear, so I kept coughing and it was so loud. I didn't want to wake you in the night before your meeting. I promise, if I felt like things were going to end last night, I would've woken you up."
You can feel the way his arms clench around you. You know how much he hates thinking about your death, how helpless and weak the simple fact that you will die makes him feel.
"Stop talking about it. It won't happen."
"Sasha, please, I know you don't want to think about losing me, but we have to make plans for-"
"No. I've created the fold, milaya. I will not let you die. I won't let it happen, even if I have to break the laws of nature once more. I will not let you leave this world without me. I refuse to lose another person. I can't be alone again, can't lose you too. I will not watch as the universe takes another person from me and leaves me alone to pick up the pieces of my broken heart. Not again. I can't do it again. You can't ask me to. You can't."
"I don't care about the king and I don't care about my rest." He hisses before finally lifting his ear from your chest, dark eyes looking up at you. "And I'm starting to hate your heart for keeping you up at night, for hurting you like this."
A soft smile finds its way onto your lips as you map out every freckle on his skin, every small wrinkle and every pore on his eternally beautiful face.
He never says it out loud but it's clear that it frustrates him more than anything that he can't fight the thing that is harming you. There is no enemy to slay, to throat to slit, no king to overthrow. He can't rip your heart out of your body and give you a painless, happy life that way. All he can do is hope that the medicine prescribed to you by the best doctors he can pay for will help and that the corporalki order will keep an eye on you.
This is entirely out of his control, and it's probably the worst feeling in the world for him.
"Hey, this heart is filled to the brim with love for you, don't be mean." You chastise playfully, grinning when you see Aleksander roll his eyes before moving to sit next to you on the couch. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you breathe in his familiar smell and let it soothe your soul. He still smells a bit like the soap the servants use to clean your bedsheets, with an underlying sweetness that comforts you like nothing else ever could. He smells like home, like belonging.
"I need you to swear that you will get me no matter what is wrong. Even if it's just a weird feeling in your chest, you need to wake me or come to me, please. That's all I ask of you, my love. All I want. I can't do my job as your husband and make you feel better if I don't know that something is wrong."
You think about it for a few seconds, mind replaying every other time you've had this conversation with him. This time is different though. He's not mad or upset, there are no tears in his eyes, he isn't even shaking. He just sounds calm, with a hint of pain in his voice, as if an old wound is giving him issues again.
Slowly you nod, arms wrapping around him as you snuggle closer to him.
"I promise I'll wake you Aleksander. I swear it. No matter what it is. I will wake you up or go find you."
Looking up at him you see the way his eyes shine at your words before he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your lips, movements careful as if he thinks you might break if he kisses you too forcefully. The only thought you have is how much you don't want to lose this. How much you want to stay with your husband.
You've accepted that you will die early years ago. Born into a simple family, you had no chance to truly survive long. You've already made it further than you should've. But being with Aleksander has made you greedy, his own ambition leading you to play with your own what-if scenarios. He convinced you to start dreaming again.
And the only dream you have is one of a world where you will never have to leave him behind, even if that means breaking the laws of nature.
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x wife!Reader
Summary: When the Royal Family finally turns on the Grisha, you find yourself caught in the crossfire. Alone, of course. You're always alone, it seems.
Warnings: murder, death, canonical persecution of Grisha, violence, mentioned death of children, sexual harassment, slutshaming, mentions of sex and cheating, suicidal thoughts, self hatred
Word Count: 6.6k words
Authors' Note: I DID IT! HERE IS YOUR PART TWO FOR A LOST EMBRACE! IT ONLY TOOK 76 YEARS! BUT I GOT IT DONE BEFORE THE END OF APRIL (this is also very not edited, and I'm still not a native English speaker).
Also, funfact: I cut the ending of this, just like I did with part 1. There was a whole other ending, but that was basically just a lot of fluff. I wasn't sure if people would want that from this series/twoshot specifically so I cut it. I can't tell of cutting the ending is a good or a really bad habit.
The title is from Lights are on by Tom Rosenthal!
Part 1: A lost embrace | Masterlist
The universe is filled with light. Billions of beautiful stars, all different sizes and temperatures, burning brightly and sending their energy out into the universe to bring warmth and light.
But there is even more darkness in the universe than there are stars, filling the space between the celestial bodies. An all surrounding nothingness that acts as a playing field for all of the beautiful, weird and wonderful things hiding in the endless sky. A canvas for everything else in the universe that hugs and surrounds all.
And one day, at least according to the most popular theories, the last stars will die and the universe will be entirely engulfed in darkness.
It began with a loud burst of light, and it will die quietly in shadows.
That knowledge used to bring you comfort and a feeling of belonging. The darkness became your new home, a special, safe place right next to your husband, but there is no safety and love to be found in the darkness now.
It was predictable, honestly. You should've known the second Vasily allowed the Darkling to travel Ravka to search of the Sun Summoner with only a few First Army soldiers for protection, but you simply didn't pay attention to the signs, too caught up in your own frustration and bitterness.
He didn't realise it either, it seems, because he simply left without even saying goodbye, leaving you behind to run the Little Palace in his absence. One night you fall asleep next to him, back turned towards him to visibly reject his presence, and the next morning he is gone, his side of the bed made and all of his most important belongings gone. No letter, no announcement beforehand, nothing.
Maybe his head was simply too focused on Alina to even remember that he still had a wife.
It doesn't matter anymore.
You're still awake when they come, three nights after the General left the Little Palace.
You're laying in bed, humming an old lullaby – one of the really old ones that you learned because he sometimes sings them to you when you can't sleep – while working on fixing the embroidery on the kefta of one of the younger students.
The disappearance of the Sun Summoner has led to chaos in all of Ravka, and there hasn't been a calm moment in the palace in weeks. You are forced, just like everyone else, to work until you pass out while keeping up appearances in front of the royal family. Everything needs to be immaculate despite the fact that the whole country is in a state of emergency, so you push small detail work like this into every free second of your day in hopes of doing something good.
You're so focused on your project that you don't even hear them approach your windows from the outside.
They sneak around, quietly taking out the guards until they're sure that they won't meet too much resistance, and then, suddenly, everything is very loud.
You don't remember what happens. Just flashes of memories. Little pieces that simply aren't enough to form a full picture, as if your body simply wasn't able to take it all in. Or maybe it refuses to remember.
Glass shatters, loud and unfamiliar steps echo like thunder through the halls of what was supposed to be your home, men with bad intentions are in your bedroom, in your house, in your garden.
And your husband is nowhere to be found.
The air smells like fire, panic and fear crackling in the air like electricity and the screams of the Grisha you swore to protect as if they were your own children echo through the building and outside.
Shots are fired in the distance, you're on the floor, the barrel of a gun pressed tightly against the back of your head.
There are more screams slicing through the night. You think you hear someone yelling your name, but before you can answer, one of the men who broke into your room slams their heavy gun against your head, and darkness welcomes you into it's familiar embrace.
When you finally wake it's to the sound of a gun shot ringing through the air, and though the bars of your new cage you watch through bleary eyes how one of your fellow Grisha runs away, his bright purple kefta unfortunately doing very little to hide his movements between the trees. You can't tell who it is, not in the dark.
A second shot gets fired. You see how it hits the Durast in the head, his body falling to the ground and staying there, unmoving. Nobody goes to check if he's dead or to drag him off and bury or burn his corpse. It's just left right there, next to a large ash tree.
Someone whimpers and sobs, begs for their life, but you can't take your eyes off the corpse. The way it just lays there, like it's nothing.
You haven't seen an actual battle in centuries. The Darkling is too paranoid to let you go, convinced that his enemies will target you in a fight and take you away from him. The thought alone used to turn his eyes cold and hard like ice, his whole body shaking with anger at the idea of you being in a dangerous situation. You haven't seen death like this, so fast and seemingly insignificant, in forever.
There is no triumph visible in the body language of the soldier that shot the Durast, but no shame either. A job done, nothing more. He doesn't celebrate or pat himself on the back. He just sits back down next to the fire in the middle of the camp and takes a sip of water, like the life he just took was worth less than even the life of a rabbit.
The other guards move to check the handcuffs of the others after that incident, making sure that everything works and no one is able to use their powers. Your heart races so fast it makes you dizzy, the fog in your head thickening and threatening to drag you back into unconsciousness.
It's hard to stay focused enough to take the whole situation in, but you try anyway, tearing your gaze away from the corpse. There are nine cages, including yours, one of them now empty.
The Grisha in the cages are, just like you, handcuffed with their hands far apart. Three of them are wearing their keftas - two of them being Alkemis, and you ask yourself if the Materialki were all still down in the workshops when the raid began - but the others, including you, are wearing whatever you wore to sleep that night. All of you are dirty, and you pray silently that none of them are hurt. It's hard to see with the lack of light. The cages all stand a bit too far away from the fire to truly see much.
The men who guard you, on the other hand, all look like they dressed up for a military parade. Their First Army uniforms sparkle almost, their faces clean shaven or decorated with carefully trimmed beards. This was planned. This whole raid was planned, probably for weeks, and you didn't notice. The idea most likely came up as soon as the General returned from the Fold, and no one ever picked up on it.
It feels like a relic from a time you're supposed to have left behind, a time you didn't even experience and only heard about from the Darkling and on rare occasions his mother.
The First Army doesn't hunt Grisha anymore. The king doesn't put you into cages. They just hate you, insult you, and harass you, but they don't physically harm you anymore. Yet... here you are.
Ravka isn't supposed to be like Fjerda, like Shu Han, like Kerch. The Darkling had made sure of that, worked for this one singular goal for centuries, and dedicated his whole life to it.
The thought of him makes your heart sting painfully, and you suppress the urge to worry for him, to wonder where he is and if he's safe. You have bigger issues than him right now. He's fine. There's no room for argument. He has survived wars and centuries of persecution. This won't kill him. He's probably out there somewhere, completely safe, trying to track down his sun summoner while you rot in this cage alongside the others.
After the handcuffs are checked you watch as four of the five soldiers walk to the cages of the two Alkemi, Ivanna and Ole, and pull them out, the fifth still sitting at the fire and watching the whole situation with mild interest.
You hear one of the guards make a suggestion on how to deal with them, and your stomach turns.
In your mind, you are 12 years old, hiding behind your mothers skirt. Her hand rests on your head, trying to soothe you as you watch with the other people your village how a woman gets dragged out of the cage they kept her in. You remember her face. She works as a seamstress. She gives you pretty ribbons to tie around your wrist or into your hair whenever your mother buys something from her.
The man – was he the mayor? The village head? You don't remember what he called himself – who pulled her out of the cage pushes her to the ground, right in front of a large rock, and motions for someone hiding in the crowd to come closer.
Another man steps forward, the blacksmith, in his hands the biggest hammer you have ever seen.
The woman starts screaming now, her voice breaking under the force of her violent sobs. Her body shakes horribly, and your own shaking hands dig deeper into the material of your mothers skirt.
"Please, please, I swear it. This is a misunderstanding. I did nothing wrong. I swear it. Please, just listen to me," the woman begs while the mayor grabs the thick rope attacked to her handcuffs and pulls her arms and hands to rest on the rock.
The noise the hammer made when it slammed down on her hands haunts you for centuries, just like her screams do.
Just like the screams of the Materialki probably will if you survive this when the guards push them to the ground. The only difference is that the soldiers have no large hammers to break their hands.
You can't move, can't speak, can't do anything, completely frozen in fear while the soldiers hold them down, each of them pressing an arm down onto the cold ground. The two have no chance to defend themselves.
The man at the fire finally stands up slowly, grabbing one of the rocks lining the fire to prevent forest fires, and walks over to the six people on the ground.
You watch him do it. You have to. You failed to protect your Grisha, and the least you can do is witness the horrors they have to go through because of your own mistakes.
Because you should've known. You should've known. Of course the royal family would turn on Grisha. Of course they would send the Darkling away before they raided the Little Palace. He is the last line of defence for the Grisha in this country.
You should've noticed the signs. You should've talked to the General about it, maybe even with Baghra. You should've started to prepare to evacuate the whole Palace, organized a place to hide with food and beds and water.
But you didn't. You didn't because you were too blinded by your own stupid quarrel with the Darkling. This is your fault. Every drop of blood that was shed that night, every bit of pain and suffering that your Grisha experienced, clings to you.
It's all your fault.
When the soldiers are sure that they broke every bone in Alkemis' hands, they put the cuffs back on and throw them back into their cages.
And then they walk back to the fire in the middle of the camp and begin to eat, ignoring the sobbing of the Grisha only a few metres away from them and the corpse still peacefully resting between the bushes and trees.
You wake up the next morning with aching muscles and the knowledge that you probably won't get out of this camp alive. Because as much as you would like to pretend otherwise, these people know you. If Vasily gives the command to have you killed, these men know that you're their target. And he would. You can't even blame him for it. You're the wife of the General, just as much of a symbol for the Second Army as the Darkling. Killing you would be a message to all of Ravka.
They don't treat you much differently than they treat the others, to your surprise. You get starved like the others, glared at like the others, and dehydrated like the others.
You could almost believe that they somehow don't know who you are if it wasn't for the insults.
Every Grisha gets insulted, some more creatively than the others. Especially the two Alkemi get made fun of for their broken, swollen, and discoloured hands by the soldiers, like they aren't the reason why they look like that. Other insults directed at other Grisha in the camp, on the other hand, are overused and boring, like when they asked Lena, an Inferni, where her spark is, why her fire has disappeared.
"I thought Infernis are always so hot-headed? Come on, give us a show!" One of the older men in the camp says to her on your second day awake, and it makes your skin crawl. You wish you could claw those mens eyes out, make them bleed.
But the insults they direct at you, those are personal. They prove that they know exactly who you are despite never saying your name once.
The Darklings slut. That's what you are to them.
His favourite toy. A bedwarmer. A plaything. A whore to entertain him. A distraction from the war. A thing he can let his frustrations out on.
That's who you are in their eyes. Nothing more. Certainly nothing that deserves respect or should be feared. The fact that you and the other Grisha can't use the small science makes them braver.
The worst insults are the ones they come up with after the third day in the cage, right after the soldiers get a quick visit from one of Vasilys messengers, because their words are suddenly no longer insults. They are observations and a horrible, new truth that convince you that their earlier insults are true, working hand in hand with the thoughts and fears you had before any of this even started.
"Don't look at me like that, whore. Everybody, even us fools in the First Army, know how enamoured your husband was with the sun summoner. How many times do you think he fucked her before she ran? Probably did it right behind your back in your shared bed, you stupid thing. I bet she was the last thing he thought of before the guards that accompanied him shot him in the head."
The soldiers celebrate the news of the Darklings death like they just won the wars with Fjerda and Shu Han and tore down the Fold with their bare hands, drinking alcohol and eating freshly hunted deer meat while you and the other Grisha grieve and starve. You don't allow yourself to cry like the others, but you can feel your soul rip itself apart.
You begin to lose yourself after that.
Your sanity runs through your hands like sand, your mind desperate to escape the smell of the Durasts rotting corpse that the soldiers never bothered to remove, the insults, the screams of the other Grisha when they get pulled out of their cages (one a day, always only one a day, like they're trying to drag it out), the desperate hunger that burns in your stomach, the thirst that tears your throat apart, the death of your husband: reality in all it's horrible shapes and colours.
First, you spend a few minutes caught up in a nice memory, like a short conversation in the gardens of the Little Palace, drinking tea and leaning on his shoulder while he tells you about his day. Then the daydreams get longer and take more control over you until you spend days staring at nothing, buried so deep in your own mind that you're no longer aware of what happens around you.
A small part of you hopes that they'll kill you while you're in that state, caught up in the past. Everything is better than reality, and with every second that passes when you're fully aware of your surroundings, that reality becomes more unbearable.
You love remembering the time before Alina the most. You know that her only sin is shining a light onto the lies, destruction, and rot surrounding you, but without her light, you were able to pretend.
You are good at pretending.
The light just makes it harder, and sometimes you slip up and accidentally sink into a more recent memory, your mind racing through different thoughts so fast that you're unable to stop it.
Like how the girl whose kefta you repaired that night, little Bibi, probably ended up dying without it after working so hard to prove to everyone that she earned it. And now her corpse lays somewhere in Ravka with no one to take care of it, to lay it to rest.
The kids are easily the worst thing to remember. Every time you do, it feels like the guilt eats your heart or whatever is left of it right out of your chest, ripping and tearing on the muscle like a wolf on a bone.
How many of them got out of the Palace in time and are now hiding somewhere, probably scared and alone with no one to help them and no idea how to get to other Grisha or back to their families? How many of them are stuck in cages just like you, starving and terrified of the First Army men who are only waiting to get the command to kill them? How many of them didn't even make it out of the Little Palace and died at the hand of the soldiers during the raid?
How many children were buried and burned that night?
Your husband isn't much better to remember either. The words of the First Army soldiers burn themselves into your mind like hot coals. You don't want to think about it. You've never wanted to think about something less in your entire life, but no matter what you do, the pain of losing someone you've known for almost your whole life feels like a knife stuck in your chest.
"... guards that accompanied him shot him in the head."
It's odd, really, how all consuming grief can be even if a part of you hates the person you lost. Almost surreal.
There have always been chapters of your life subtitled with "before the Darkling". There aren't supposed to be chapters subtitled "after the Darkling", not even a single one. It's wrong. It's entirely wrong. He's supposed to be a constant. Something that doesn't move, doesn't change, doesn't leave. He was supposed to be here until the end of everything.
He wasn't supposed to leave you behind. You can't do this without him. You can't lose him. This isn't right.
It's the last piece. The last drop required to convince you that giving up might not be the worst option. If they succeeded in killing the Darkling... what can truly be done anymore? What can you do? You can't free the Grisha in your camp, not with your hands cuffed so far apart from each other that your arms regularly start cramping, and a stomach so empty that it feels like your entire body is trying to collapse in on itself to fill the void. You can't convince the soldiers to free you. You can't save the children and rebuild Ravka into a safe place once more, not alone. You can't do anything on your own. You are nothing.
So why shouldn't you die? Why not join your husbands soul, wherever it may be now? What is left for you to do here? What can you do?
Death haunts your sense of smell and vision. It haunts your mind, and it haunts all of Ravka. Why not let it carry you off? Away from the pain, the suffering, the fear and grief and rot.
There is only more to come. More horrors that linger in the unpredictable future, and no one left to fix it. You certainly can't do it, Baghra - if she still lives, that is - doesn't care enough about others to even attempt to fix anything, and the sun summoner evidently can't do it either. All she can do is shine light on the evil lingering in the dark, but she's not strong or persuasive enough to improve and change the nightmares she exposes.
The Darkling could've done it. He would fight tooth and nail, drench his hands in blood and ash to free the others. He has fought his whole life, after all. He could've done it again.
But you can't. You can't take his position in this war, as much as you wish you could. You can't even get your hands out of your stupid cuffs, no matter how hard you try.
Baghra was right in the end, it seems. You really are too weak to stay at her and her sons side as their equal. You are dust, nothing more.
Now that you're here, stuck in a cage and unable to defend yourself in any way, you ask yourself once more how she and her son could've possibly survived this long. How did they not give up? What do they have that you lack?
"When the entire world hates you and wants you dead, the best thing you can do is live."
That's what she said back then, but you simply don't understand how she found the strength to keep going. You can't find it in you, no matter how much you look. Your whole life is gone. Your friends are probably all in cages or dead. Your husband is dead. Your home is gone. There is nothing left, no reason for you to continue.
Your husband would want you to keep going, a voice in the back of your mind answers, and you can feel the sharp stinging in your chest return at the thought.
You miss him. You miss him so much that it feels like you're being torn apart from the inside. And if you're really honest with yourself, you have to admit that you have been in this state for a while.
All of that anger and jealousy was just your bodies way to avoid facing the fact that you were lonely. No wonder you immediately fell back into routine like a desperate little cat when he finally gifted you some attention after Alina fled. Your entire being was begging to get him back.
And now you will never have him again because you were both too stubborn to simply talk with each other. He will never understand how much it hurt to see him obsess over someone else, and you will never know why you suddenly weren't enough for him anymore.
You will never hear his voice again, or knit him a new scarf for winter, or wash his hair for him after an exhausting day. You will never be comforted by him when you have a headache or watch the first snow of the year cover the grass outside of the Little Palace. You will never fall asleep next to him again, his arms wrapped around you and your face pressed against his chest as his heartbeat and calm breathing lull you to sleep.
He will never hug you again or surprise you with breakfast. He will never help you choose jewelry for an event again, give you his cloak when you're cold, kiss you, laugh at your horrible jokes, or moan your name into your ear, his voice raspy with love and desire while he tries to bring you to another orgasm before his own crashes down on him.
You will never do anything with him ever again.
Turning your head slightly, you stare at the soldiers sitting at the fire, eating some form of stew. You can't smell it. The stench of the decomposing body is too strong, and you wonder how the soldiers can stomach food in this environment.
You can barely breathe on some days without gagging every few seconds. It's so horrible that it drives tears into your eyes.
They talk and laugh about some servant girl, and you silently ask yourself what fate the servants of the Little Palace met. How many of them died that night? How many fled? Did any of them try to help the Grisha that might've fled? And saints, what happened to the Oprichniki?
Slowly closing your eyes again, you pray that the wind changes direction and starts blowing the smell away while you try to think of something that gives you strength.
The first thing that comes to mind is your amplifier.
You haven't thought about that day in a while, not since Alina came to the Palace and your heart and soul drowned themselves in jealousy and hate.
But it's not right to forget something so special. You should remember.
Who else in all of Ravka got proposed to, not with a ring but with a barn owl and a knife?
He has been gone for months, looking for something in West Ravka, choosing to trave through Fjerda and around the Fold to avoid going through it, and the constant worry that he would be discovered keeps you awake on some nights. He sends a letter once a month and promises you over and over that he would be back in the spring, but you still end up surprised when one of your friends drags you out of your bed in the middle of the night and ushers you towards the Generals quarters.
And when you open the doors you find him leaning against his desk, a knife next to him on the table and a barn owl sitting quietly in a cage, large eyes looking at you curiously, but you don't even see those things. Not at first, at least.
You just see him.
"You're back!"
Quickly jumping over to him, you throw your arms around him and press your face against him, a deep laugh bubbling in his chest as he moves to embrace you tightly.
"Careful, my love," he murmurs, his hands finding the back of your neck and pressing you closer to him.
You stay like that for a while, holding each other tightly while he whispers soft words into your ear.
"I'm so happy to see you. I missed you so much, little love. I hope you weren't too lonely without me," he coos, pressing a long kiss onto your head.
You're about to answer him when the bird finally makes himself known. Turning your head quickly you look at it, and the owl turns it's head to the side as if it's trying to do assess you carefully as well, it's dark eyes looking you over a few times. You feel a bit self-conscious in your night dress, but instead of shying away, you decide to let it look.
"Is that what you were looking for in West Ravka?" you ask, gazing back up at him.
"I did a lot of research over the past year, and I think this amplifier would be strong enough," he explains, his voice as soft as a feather.
"Strong enough?"
"To keep you with me. I didn't believe it at first either, but this little bird could give you forever. Time would no longer be able to take you from me. I could keep you for eternity."
Tears well up in your eyes, your hands moving to hold onto the front of his kefta as he reaches over to the knife and holds it out to you.
"You don't have to do it right now. You can get to know the owl and see if it feels right. Think about it for a while. It's a big commitment, after all." His empty hand moves up to cup your face, and the tenderness in his gaze makes your heart race. "If you chose the amplifier, I will stay with you. I will be at your side until the end of everything, I promise it. I will take care of you when you're hurt, hold you when you're sad, and laugh with you when you're happy. I will fight at your side, protect you with my life, and take care of you until I die."
Biting your lip weakly, you look up into his eyes, somehow darker than the night sky. "And if I don't choose to take the amplifier?"
"Then I'll still do all of those things. I will just have less time by your side, but I will cherish that time just as much, sweet girl."
You don't know when it happens because you start to loose track of time after the first week is over, but at some point in a random night one of the soldiers goes into the forest to get fresh water from a nearby river and doesn't return.
You're not conscious enough to notice it, and the soldiers are too caught up in their preparations for tonight's entertainment.
You don't even notice how they move through the camp, their eyes looking at each and every grisha they have, and judging who would be able to provide the most fun tonight. You just wish you were lying on the floor.
If you laid down, you could pretend that the heaviness on your chest is your husbands weight and not a heavy mountain of grief that tries to drag you down into the heart of the world.
He liked to do that. Lay on top of you to make sure that every single centimetre of you touched him in some way. You used to jokingly complain about it, but he never stopped. Every time he knew you needed comfort he would lay down on top of you, his heavy, strong body pressing you deep into the mattress while he talked, either asking questions about your day and whatever might be bothering you, or telling you about his, always carefully pressing small kisses onto your face and neck.
He must've known that his weight comforted you, made you feel safe. You've never wanted to be crushed into a mattress by him so badly in your whole life.
You don't hear it when they discuss if you're weak enough now to remove you from the cuffs. You don't even hear it when they open your cage, the old metal screeching loudly.
You don't realize that anything is wrong until one of the soldiers unlocks the cuffs and your body falls to the floor like a wet sack of flour. A loud groan leaves your mouth, your voice rough from lack of use.
The soldier grabs your ankles and drags you out of the cage, your upper body dragging over the floor. After being hung up for so long, you realise very quickly that you can't move your arms at all. The muscles start twitching as soon as you even attempt to bring them together, and a horrible, sharp tingling sensation makes itself noticeable. You bite your teeth together to stop yourself from screaming out.
A wave of panic crashes over you as soon as you fully understand what's going on, trying to kick the man dragging you closer to the fire, but none of your movements seem to really bother him.
As soon as you're close enough to the fire, someone flips you onto your stomach and buries their hand in your hair to pull your head up. Your back bends horribly, and you hiss out in pain as your eyes find those of the soldier who broke the Alkemis hands with a rock.
He doesn't say anything. He just looks at you, eyes taking in every flinch and twitch in your face.
You stay like this for a few seconds staring at each other, when he suddenly spits directly into your face, a wide grin splitting his face into two a few seconds later before he slaps you. Your head drops to the ground quickly.
"Let's get started. Markus can join us later when he's done," someone says. Three seconds later, before you have time to register what he means, you have a small knife in your back.
A blood curdling scream leaves your throat and tears well up in your eyes. You want to beg, to humiliate yourself even further and kiss their shoes in hopes of escaping this, but the last shred of pride left in you won't let you.
One of the soldiers steps onto one of your hands, twisting his shoe a bit in the process to make it hurt more. Someone else grabs your other arm and twists it behind your back until you scream out once more. This time, you scream your husbands name, unable to stop yourself in time. It's a broken, pathetic sound that echoes through the trees like a gunshot.
You know he won't come, but something about saying his name again feels almost cathartic, so you continue to scream it out with your full heart and soul. With every hit, every kick, and every stab wound, you scream the real name of the black heretic out into the endless night and beg death to bring you to him.
When the first gunshots get fired into the forest, you mistakenly assume that they're shooting at you and tightly close your eyes. Your heartbeat rushes loudly in your ears, and your mind replays the events of the first day when the Durast got shot. You can't even stand up and run. Your whole body is consumed by pain.
This is it, you think. Loud screams pierce through the air, gruelling, blood curling screams that scare you half to death.
Your mind races, trying to quickly find a last memory to remember before a bullet pierces your chest or head and kills you, something sweet and soft and perfect, like your wedding night, or your first kiss, or your-.
A loud scream rips itself out of your throat when a bullet hits you right into your leg. The man who shot it is dead seconds later, torn to shreds by darkness itself, but you don't see it, your eyes still rightly closed as you wait for the next bullet to hit you.
It never comes.
Instead someone yells your name, and you think it sounds familiar.
"Ivan!" the man screams, and a second later, someone carefully turns you onto your back and falls to their knees next to you, pulling your head up into their lap, their large hands cupping your face.
You don't want to die. You're not ready.
"My love, my love, it's me. Can you hear me?," he speaks. Fabric ruffles and something wide is dropped over your shaking, weak form, and your whole body feels warm for the first time in days. A familiar scent enters your lungs, somehow overpowering the stench of rotting corpse and fresh blood.
"Sasha?" Squinting your eyes, you look up, trying to focus on the blurry face hovering above yours. He's easy to recognize. The ink black lines over his face are unique to him, almost out of place in this world, just like him. You want to reach up and touch him, but you can't. Your muscles won't cooperate.
"I'm here, my little love. I'm right here. I found you. And I'm so proud of you. So, so proud of you. And I'm sorry," Aleksander answers. His eyes sparkle like stars, tears rolling down his face and dripping onto yours like raindrops. In the back of your mind, you realize that you've never seen him cry in front of people like this before. Only ever in private. Now his voice is almost breaking, his sobs so loud it drowns out the noise of your own hammering heartbeat. It must be a dream. He would never allow himself to show weakness like this.
Ivan appears next to him like a ghost, his hands covered in blood as he carefully lifts the thick black cloak Aleksander covered you with from your legs to look at the injuries there.
"Sasha," you rasp out again. You want him to hold you so badly, but you can barely speak. All you want is to be held by your husband.
"Right here. I'm so sorry, sweet girl. So sorry. I promised I would protect you, and I failed. I'm so sorry, I will never make that mistake again, I swear. I'll never take you for granted again. I'm so sorry for being late."
You want to respond, to calm him down, but he doesn't give you a chance to talk. He just continues with his panicked, slightly hysterical rambling, his whole body shaking under the force of his sobs.
"I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you're safe, and I will never leave your side again. No one will ever hurt you again."
His thumb strokes your cheek gently, and the love in his gaze almost feels like a punch in the gut. He looks absolutely in love and absolutely devastated as well. "I thought I lost you. I kept looking for you in every camp I found, but you were never there, and none of the soldiers would tell me where you are. I was so sure they killed you. I was so scared. I thought-"
Aleksanders voice shatters like glass, his body almost curling in on itself as he presses his forehead against yours. You recognize the breathing pattern he uses, an old trick he taught you a few years ago when you were still new to your position as the Darklings wife. He's trying to stop a panic attack from taking over.
"I'm so proud of you. You're so strong and brave, my darling girl. My lovely wife. I love you so much. You're so good, so good for me. I don't know what I would do without you. What I would do if they... I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you. I'm sorry."
He sounds broken, you notice. You've never heard him like this in your entire life. Tears flood your eyes, and you take a deep breath, more of his familiar scent entering your lungs. Rosemary and ash, with a hint of something sweet.
"I'm never going away again, I promise. I will never leave you again, sweet girl. Never again. You will never be able to get rid of me. I will bind myself to you, body and soul, until the end of everything, I swear it."
You're starting to get dizzy. Everything is so overwhelming.
"Am I dead?" You hear yourself asking, your vision dimming slowly, and you're sure you will be dragged back into unconsciousness by your body soon. Aleksander laughs, and it's oddly light and relieved, considering the context.
"No. No, you're alive. You survived. We both survived."
“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."
Maybe with a sprinkle of angst? Ty!
Until you look at me - Sylus X MC
For the longest time, he has felt like there was something lingering in the air when he's with you that he can't speak about — something, that would change whatever this thing between you two is in an instant, in either direction depending on your answer.
─ .✦ pre-relationship, assumption of unrequited love, misunderstandings, first kiss
─ .✦ word count: 2.2k
꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ For anon - Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy reading!
You are doing that thing again.
That subconscious little habit of yours where his eyes can't help but stare at you, his mind unable to register anything but the way your fingers are moving against your lips. It's something you do when you are deep in thought or have something on your mind, he noticed, your fingers immediately moving to either brush against them or gently pick at them.
When he had asked you about it out of mere curiosity, you had looked a tad embarrassed about getting caught; it seems that you had been doing that for as long as you can remember and it's a habit you have tried to get rid of for the longest time yet never found yourself able to.
And since then, he had found himself unable not to notice it.
Be it when you are over at his place and you two are hanging out or when you guys are outside and he is tagging along visiting one of the many places you want to show him; every time your mind starts to wander, so does your hand, and he has found himself taking notice of it way too often for it to be normal anymore.
But it wouldn't surprise him. For the longest time, he has felt like there was something lingering in the air when he's with you that he can't speak about — something, that would change whatever this thing between you two is in an instant, in either direction depending on your answer.
Because the things is, Sylus has been harboring feelings for you since the moment he has met you; finds himself thinking about you whenever you don't contact him for a while and enjoys your company like no one has ever made him feel before. You two have gotten to be fast friends after all; at least, that's what he assumes you must be thinking about him, because otherwise you wouldn't make your way into the dangerous N109 zone as often as you do.
"Careful," he mutters, nudging you and gesturing at your hands as you had started biting down on your fingers once more — deep in thought, "You are doing it again"
"Oh-" you gasp, crossing your arms in front of your chest as an attempt to keep your hands busy, chuckling with a flustered expression adorning your face, "Thank you for the reminder, Sy"
"No problem," he puts his arm up on the couch rest, propping his chin on his hand, a small grin on his lips as you always know him to do, "So? What's got you thinking about so hard?"
You remain quiet, staring down at your hands for a second and Sylus suddenly realizes that the movie you had put on to watch together with him, you hadn't been watching the whole time at all. Your phone resting on your lap would probably explain why.
Because the thing is, that despite you two being this close and the fact that he has taken an unspoken liking to you, Sylus knows that you don't reciprocate the same feelings at all. There have been countless of times he had thought about surprising you with an unannounced visit, only to realize that you are spending your days off with someone else already; someone by the name of Xavier — a highly skilled deepspace hunter you work with who also happens to live in the very same building with you.
Sylus is not the type to pry, but as someone who has his eyes almost everywhere if only he ever wishes to, he has seen it all already: the way your gaze softens around him and the way your eyes are already smiling before your lips do; it's clear as day to him that it's Xavier who you must like. And so it doesn't really matter how you perceive him, as long as he knows that those feelings won't ever come close to what you may feel for that white haired boy.
"I was wondering.. if you are free next weekend?"
"Hm?" You finally match his eyes yet all Sylus' crimson gaze can see is the way you are nervously biting down on your bottom lip, "..next weekend?"
"Y-yes! I wanted to, uh, buy something and I was wondering if you could offer me some of your expertise-"
"My expertise? To what do I owe this honor?" he chuckles and watches how a guilty expression starts forming on your face as you break into a quiet fluster, "As far as I know, every time you've had a question about weapons or rare protocores you wouldn't be this shy about it"
"..It's about neither," you mutter, shaking your head, "actually, there is this gift I want to buy for someone, but I c-can't just ask them about it directly, so I figured…- I figured, I could ask you to, uh, stand in for them! …soIcanseehowitlooks"
You chuckle, obviously embarrassed about your sudden request, and Sylus can tell by the way your hands start nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt that it must have taken you some courage to bring it up to him. And that, in turn, makes him wonder what it is about that Xavier that has gotten you so worked up to ask Sylus for help.
Because that's the only logical explanation for this, isn't it? A gift for Xavier, that's all this is.
And he's going to help you choosing it.
"Sounds good. What day and time?" Sylus wonders if you can hear it in his voice: something foreign and cold in his tone that he can't help but protrude given the information he had just managed to gather from that simple request you've made alone.
To his surprise, you don't.
"R-Really..! Yay! Thank you, Sy!" your eyes are beaming, the uneasiness fading from your shoulders, "I'll text you the details when I'm home later then! Oh, I'm so glad you said yes-"
And as if nothing had happened, you finally redirect your gaze back to the TV screen, noticing to your dismay and utter disappointment that the movie is over already and that in all the worry of asking him you had managed to miss all of it.
Considering this is supposed to be a simple shopping trip where he is going to aid you in picking out a gift for someone he has never even met in person before, you look quite dressed up for some reason; hair and make-up done in a way he knows you usually only do for larger, more important occasions.
Are you meeting him later today? And are you going to hand him that gift that another man has picked out for him?
It's quite ridiculous, really. Since that day, Sylus has found himself feeling strangely on edge every time he thinks about your upcoming appointment together, especially if he recalls how nervous you had looked. He always deemed himself to be quite cool-headed when it comes to his emotions no matter the situation, but ever since he has known you and you two have gotten this close, he slowly finds himself becoming more and more pitiable as the days go by.
"What do you think? This color..? or this one instead?"
Muttering to yourself, you hold up different shades of the same sweater in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as you take a look between him and the cardigan you are holding up.
"I think both look fine." he responds curtly, chuckling when you respond with a glare — those eyes are clearly saying: 'you can't say that! How am I supposed to choose from them then!', "But personally I'd say this one would look great for everyday wear whereas this one tends to clash depending on the color"
Your eyes light up excitedly, and you nod with a hum, putting in inside the cart with a few other pieces you have been considering since you've started looking around, "Yes, I agree! It would look great with light hair, don't you think so?"
"Oh, so that's why you brought me along?"
Your hands freeze in the air as you turn your head to meet his gaze, pupils blown wide in shock, "P-pardon? What do you mean?"
So that confirms it.
Sylus lets out a breath he didn't realize he has been holding this whole time before shaking his head, silently admitting how strangely confrontational he may have sounded just now, "It's nothing, don't mind me. Anything else that you want to take a look at?"
Usually, knowing you, there would be some loud protest coming his way about now; you're not the type who lets him get away with his grumblings, especially when it's but a feigned 'it's nothing' which is something you have repeatedly reminded him: "is not nothing at all!" — a constant reminder for him how close you have gotten over time that you understand even his quiet gestures and curt replies.
But this time, you don't pry further.
"Thank you for coming along today, Sy" you look over at him and smile, but there is unease he can read in your eyes even if you aren't constantly facing him, "you were a great help to me"
"I'm glad" is all he manages to say, focusing his eyes back on the road again, something inside of his chest itching to say more, but he feels like he's just about to make another rude remark that will finally blow his cover and have all those words left unsaid break free.
There is an uncomfortable silence as he continues driving, making his way through familiar streets that will eventually end up at your home and the very place he knows someone else lives in who you are most likely going to meet tonight. Something about that leaves him irritated, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Is… is everything alright?"
He takes a quick glance over to you and notices your worried gaze. For a moment, the frustration welling up inside of him seemingly dissipates, "Hm?"
"Are you alright? You seem... tense"
"Do I?" he chuckles, propping his arm up on the window as he rests his face on his hand, hoping to cover the little bit of irritation you may be able to spot on his face, "You must be imagining things. It's nothing-"
You huff, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "Sylus, I'm being serious here-"
"Well? I am too."
"W-what's with you today? I've tried not to take notice of it, but you've been acting so unlike yourself the whole time!"
The car comes to a halt in front of your apartment complex. It's dark already, barely any light shining down on the car, and maybe that's good, because he's unsure what kind of expression he might be wearing right now.
"Oh really? Tell me then, would you be happy to choose a gift the person you like is going to give another man?"
Now that leaves you speechless.
But at the same time that also means that Sylus has just made the horrible mistake of telling you what has been lingering inside his heart this whole time.
He has been ready to take this secret to his grave before this. Since the day he has realized that your eyes shine for another person, he's made it clear to himself to never let you know, no matter what it takes. He would never want to burden you with the weight of his feelings; doesn't want to make you uncomfortable being around him — not now, when you have gotten to be a trivial part of his daily routine.
Had he known he was going to confess, he would've chosen another day but this one.
"You- WHAT??!"
..well, that was not the reaction he was expecting.
"W-what do you mean 'another man'? Who are you talking about?" you look absolutely mortified, eyes widened in shock, your whole body turned to look at him, "and what do you mean 'person you like'? Sylus… do you like me?"
"…please just forget about it. I know there's someone else you like, so you can just pretend to-"
"I like you, Sylus"
He lets out a huff, shaking his head, "Don't lie to appease me-"
"I.. I asked you to meet me today, because I wanted to get a gift for you, Sylus. You already have everything, so I was afraid of choosing something you might not like and I thought-" you sigh, biting down at your lip before you muster up the right words to continue speaking, "I thought I could have you come along. All the clothes we bought today.. they are for you"
"What-"
Your lips feel soft; they are everything and more of what he always imagined them to be since the moment he has discovered that habit of yours. His hand moves to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss and wishes for this moment not to end. Now that he has gotten a taste of you, he's unsure he would be able to let go of you, ever.
Your tongue moves first, gently offering him more access and Sylus answers without any hesitation, responding with everything that has been building up inside of him today.
When he finally leans away, lips still parted, eyes half-lidded, he can't help but smile, watching the way your eyes are looking at him: now, this is what you truly look like when you are in love, he notices.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this" he whispers, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the warmth of your face in his grasp.
it is every player's dream to wake up in the world of their otome game but not you, you're not the mc or the heroine of the game that was supposed to be you. in some twisted joke the universe decided for you — you get to live and survive the ruthless n109 zone where your main love interest resides.
── commissioned by @jamjyro
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִ content warnings. isekaid reader + nonmc + gun violence + depictions of disposing corpses + anxiety + coercion + blood + angst + there will be a part 2.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִ notes. hey you all, it's been a long time since the last time I've posted. thank you very much for the patience and the support that you had given me through this difficulties of my life. i'm still adjusting and little bit struggling. once again, thank you very much for still sticking in this ghosty blog of mine.
Bang!
Shots are fired. Followed by the familiar deafening sounds of heavy machine guns rolling outside and the screech of wheels. You jolted awake that you almost roll and fall from your makeshift bed. What the hell is happening at this hour and in broad daylight? That was expected cause you live in the N109 Zone but you were still not used of the people here exchanging bullets.
But why? Why here? You want to scream in frustration as you crawled in the floor of the building you decided to be your base, a temporary home after being isekaid in a game that you play every single day. It's almost unhealthy from how you obsessed with it and then when you wanted to quit, you got thrown inside the game. What a stroke of luck. Funny. Ha-ha. The game fucking sent you to the unforgiven land of N109 Zone. How the hell can you survive when you got the survival skill of a hamster.
It was going to be fine if you possessed the body of your MC that you spent hours customizing to look like you or somewhat closer to what you look like and only to stare at a mirror and see your real life reflection cluelessly staring.
You spent the first hour agonizing on how you can survive. Thinking how nice if you have a somewhat useful Evol but you don't. You were fucked. You were clueless in where you are at first when you woke up in the middle of the road at first.
No clue in your surroundings until the gunshots came and the angry shouts. Superfucked. And that’s when you realized you were in the N109 Zone. Ultra duper superfucked. The tall buildings, moldy walls in the dark alleyways and there was some sort of shadows lurking in the walls.
It was hard for your first days. You were cold and hungry. Exhausted and clueless on where to start until you remembered Elysium. The place were information are exchanged and under the protection of Sylus.
Yeah, Sylus. Your main in the game and you didn't know what to feel. Knowing that you're not your MC and realized that MC is probably the custom avatar of the game. A far cry from your supposed MC or you. Technically you were MC when you're playing but this time you are not. You were starting to believe that you are not truly MC which is true.
Enough of that, if you want to survive you better start relying on your own and learn a few tricks to save your ass. You don't want to die in a foreign land, let alone a land in a fictional game that you're currently in.
You were about to embark in a journey when you remember you didn't have a trade. Elysium was for intelligent information, assassination and trade of arms and other illegal stuff and you don't do illegal. You can't even handle a gun or pull a pin on a grenade. Hacking? Not a plausible idea. You were only good at organizing documents in a computer.
You stopped in your tracks. Careful at your surroundings, your shoulders slump as you agonize on what trade you can offer in exchange for some lump sum of money or shelter or food or all of the above. You were good as a dead meat. You badly want to cry until a light bulb appeared in your head.
The game was basically your manual on how to survive the game or how to live in the N109 Zone. Although people like you won't survive long. It's either to rise in the ashes or drown in the murky waters.
You already finished the main story, starting from Sylus first appearance which made your heart go thump-thump and spent money that almost your whole salary in a month. You read the anecdotes, his myth. You knew everything about him. His personal life and his connection with MC and how he rules the N109 Zone. Onychinus was the top of the hierarchy here. You know how the Elysium operates so that's what you're going to do. Exchange some information about the future canon events that is yet to happen.
The problem is — it was suspicious. You can't really crash in Elysium and tell Aislinn, the bartender about it. Knowing she directly reports to Sylus and the reality that you weren't your MC — you were surely going to end up with a gun to your head. A stranger revealing secrets, it wasn't a ideal way but you really want to live and that weighs more than anything than the fear and so, standing in front of the Elysium — you entered with death’s hand at your shoulder.
For the better, it turned out good. You didn't reveal anything, someone beat you to the punch of revealing and opportunity opened up to you. Even the N109 Zone was lawless and chaotic, some gangs and organizations really didn't want to leave trace of the transactions that occurred in the hidden areas or the docks and warehouses that the deals takes place.
One of the patrons were looking for someone who can take care of that and you volunteered without a second thought. Your safety will be compromised with that line of work but they only is to keep your mouth shut and deal with the bloodied mess — you took it without hesitation. It was rare for someone to take that but you really need money to start or provide yourself with some basic needs and thus, you ended up in your current situation.
Bullets are flying everywhere and you're going to end up as a casualty if you don't move. You grabbed the classic Smith and Wesson handgun you keep even you don't know how to use it but only when the times comes you need to protect yourself. You didn't know it will come to this point.
You intentionally picked this place for your base. It was the abandoned place far from the chaos of the main zone and it wasn't really ideal for wars because it was very far and the terrain wasn't that good. Broken concrete roads and it can be really hot in the mornings. The surrounding buildings are covered with moss and the fauna was slowly taking over. It wasn't ideal for you to live in the area but it provides safety except now.
A stray bullet pierced to a glass window near you. The glass shatters as it broke and falls near your feet. Without a second thought you immediately crawl. Grabbing the small bag you keep under your bed when you need to run immediately. You grip it tightly as you stand up and bolted away from where you are. The building was still sturdy but the previous gang wars and the Chronorift Catastrophe left it to be abandoned like the other surrounding buildings.
As you descended from the stairs, you held the gun close to you. Your fingers finds the hammer of the gun and hearing the familiar click, you swallowed hardly. Tapping your varsity jacket pockets to check if you have the extra magazines in case you need to reload if you — you hope not, you have to fire in case of self defense.
God, why must you be transported in such a hostile place. You would accept to wake up in a hospital — preferably Akso Hospital and be declared as someone who had amnesia and is truly clueless of what's happening and maybe you can get a glimpse of Dr. Zayne.
You could have gone to Linkon City but you didn't have an identity with you and getting out of N109 Zone needs a special entrance and exit to be granted in order for a individual to leave. The No Hunting Zones was also a way to leave but there's a reason why it was a no hunting zone. It crawls with Wanderers and as a civilian with no Evol, there's a higher chance of you being butchered or succumb to the Flux Nexus.
You're basically a NPC in this world and that sucks more than anything. Where you isekaid here because your main was Sylus? A deepspace tunnel opened and it brought you here. You didn't want to know. It was really disheartening that you have to be here because your main was Sylus. It wasn't like you were hating him or being disappointed. You were basically thrown in a den of lions.
Somehow you managed to survive on your own by being the lackey or you like to call yourself, a cleaner for some of the powerful organizations. You have learned how to remove bloodstains without a trace. The bodies were taken care of by whoever availed your services to clean. You make sure the scene of the crime were spotless as if nothing happened and it was just the same cold and moldy warehouse or alley.
Anyways if you can't get out of this mess, you can kiss your life goodbye.
A sudden burst of adrenaline pumping in your veins made you maneuver the steep stairs and crumbly walls with such ease. Your palm sweaty as it slides in the cold railing. Your body felt like iron as you bump in the walls at every sharp turn. Not bad, self. You want to pat yourself in the back for being able to do such things at your plump stature. You feel like the main protagonist from the movie you used to watch and was it the reason you were here in the N109 Zone? You got the prowess for combat? Such tall tales and that was later proven wrong.
You were good at evading not fighting. That's what you're currently doing right now and you almost let out a breath of relief as you pushed the door in the ground floor. Stumbling in the process as your two feet became unsynchronized. A bullet flew right by and it almost sent you tumbling backwards. You badly want to cry. You're not really built for this.
It seems that your escape route hasn't been intercepted and they're far away from it. You can just run and go for it. Except when you're about to breakthrough — out of the corner in your eye — you caught the glimpse of him.
Sylus.
You can't be mistaken. It was hard to miss him. His name was spoken in whispers. In harsh words and in contempt because there's nothing more cruel than the one who rules the N109 Zone. The leader of Onychinus.
You avoided Sylus nor get involved with him. A civilian or rather a powerless human being in his world cannot survive and you cannot risk making enemies at the same time. You kept a low profile in the duration of your stay.
But to see your main love interests breathing and fighting his enemies in flesh made your chest bloom with warmth. The screen was your boundary between him and you. It was the closest you can ever have him. Pressing your fingertips in the cold screen of your phone and hope you can feel his warmth and hoped he can feel yours too.
He was so close and yet, out of your reach.
Suddenly, you were glued in the floor. Your body refusing to move despite your mind screaming for you to run off. Your legs are frozen. You cannot get involved with him. MC exists in this world andthey were destined for each other. He's waiting for her and you left that with the game's dynamics.
The sound of heavy rifles being loaded and the static ringing in the area and Sylus, there wasn't even much of a tremble or quiver in his movements. He was precise and calculated as he draws his gun. Easily replacing it with a new magazine. His dark glasses perched on his nose. He slides the rack before the sound of gunshot fills the air.
Wait, it's morning. Sylus should be asleep at this time and was only active in the night. Does this means he was overwhelmed and clearly ambushed? You run towards a nearly dilapidated beam. Assessing the situation and when you got a closer look, you notice the damp part of his dark collared shirt.
It wasn't visible but with the morning light and his movements that sways his leather jacket, you can see it. You remembered that Sylus can heal himself but he still get wounded and to get that wound — it must be deep for him to heal properly and he's currently bleeding under his clothes.
You did say you weren't going to get involved the moment you realized you weren't MC. Such matters would have sucked and in the time of care you deeply felt for him. Love will get you killed. Indifference will save you. That was the reason you survived upon being isekaid in the lawless land of N109 Zone.
Alas the moment you had fallen in love with Sylus that even the tiniest voice concern of why you shouldn't save someone just because they were in danger or rather they were the danger, it didn't matter.
Arriving at a resolution, you raised your gun. Pointing at him with a slight tremor in your arm and your palms sweaty that you might slip as you push the trigger. You can do it. You really can do it. You take a deep breath and with a exhale. You push the trigger and with a loud bang that resonated in the area — you hit your target.
He really can't say he was at his wit's end. He was Sylus. Ruler of the N109 Zone and being defeated at this foolish game of foolish people who wants him gone is a humiliation that will haunt him at his death. There's a rule among the residents of this land. It's to kill or be killed. And Sylus isn't going to get slaughtered like a lamb.
The sun's high and he was in a little pinch. His eyesight is made for the night and not in the light. He gives these men who managed to use their cards against him to corner the Onychinus leader. They were really pooling their meager resources to kill him but it wasn't enough although he can give them credits for getting a little smarter and Sylus isn't the one to back down from a fight.
He can give them a little recognition of such feat for injuring him. It was a stray bullet that found its way on his abdomen. He can heal — sure but being repeatedly injured, it stops. His shirt was soaking his blood and his enemies were closing in and then, in some twist or fate or luck or another person thirsty for his blood scrapes him by the shoulder with a bullet.
A stray bullet, maybe but whoever shot him and hitting the one who's closing him falling at the scorching road with a thud must be an amateur or was just really lucky for wounding him and maybe killing the other.
Before he can turn around to look at this one who's brave enough to take a shot, they grab his hand. Pulling them with force of urgency. They run, evading his enemies and although Sylus isn't the one back down from a fight, he knew he needed respite.
Turn after turn, him returning the rounds of bullets to his aggressors. He takes a look at this mortal who dared to save him. Navigating narrow alleyways and taking every sharp turns without pausing like you know every part of this place.
The gunshots have stopped, deciding that you successfully shaked them off. You take a look at his face. “There’s a nearby exit here. They probably don't know about the area and you will be safely get back in your own. I'll be going now. Goodbye.” You say with such firmness before running in the opposite direction without looking back.
You disappeared quickly in his sight. The black and white vision of you in your varsity jacket, boots clicking in the distance. Sylus was left with a strange feeling.
Who was this stranger who saved him and only to disappear on him?
Someone could have used this as a chance to curry favors from him. A chance to rise in the top cause the Onychinus leader never left being indebted to others and such act of saving him can bring fortune if he deemed you worthy but alas, he was only left in the abandoned street with no signs of life besides him. Reeling in the sensation of the stranger's soft hand that previously held his wrist.
No data found.
The screen of his laptop glares at him. No traces or evidence that stranger existed. He hacked every database around the world and no record are found about your identity. Are you a spy? A ghost? He knows you weren't a figment of his imagination that one morning. You were warm and you spoke to him.
You must have one cause despite being nonexistent to others or how much a person hides their identity — there will always be traces of a past of how a person lived no matter how much they try to bury it. The Onychinus searched for any activities that might have linked to you and why did you hole up in that kind of building.
He went back there. The buildings were riddled with bullets. Blood stains in the walls of what violence had occured in there. Investigating and leaving no spot untouched just to get a trace that you were there and you exist. What else could you have been doing there? Maybe you were running away from something or you just didn't like anything that relates to the ruthlessness of the place.
You were a mystery he wants to solve and any day now, you will appear. In the most of convenient or the most unwanted places but Sylus was sure that he will be meeting this stranger again.
“Boss, the scene's spotless. Kieran and I been searching for hours at that warehouse.” Luke's voice can be heard behind him as he stared at the screen. Sylus raises a brow. There's always a spot that's left untouched and he's been living in the N109 Zone for too long that after a bloody showdown, there's always dead bodies and shell casings littering on the cold floors.
Since when these bunch of nobodies started to clean up after themselves?
Well, this have been a occurrence of lately. Crime scenes are left clean. No bodies and not much left even a tiniest speck of blood. Whoever cleaning up these scenes are a professional. It's also hard to found out of whoever doing these are a group or individual but he can appreciate the cleanliness much it was a hassle for his operations. Everyone's evolving in the N109 Zone and he needs a little bit of an entertainment before the boredom catches up to him.
The district warehouse were huge. Larger than what you usually received from the organizations who avail your cleaning services. It was a mess but nothing you can't handle. Upon setting foot in the damp and cold warehouse with the scent of blood and gunpowder, you assess the mess.
Letting your OTTO fly and survey the scene. Scanning trails of blood that you have to manually clean and hidden dead bodies to be disposed of. Securing that there will be no marks or traces of DNA that will point the instigators of this conflict.
Scan completed.
Your OTTO cheerfully chirps at you and you began to slide the gloves in your hands and securing the shoe covers in your feet to avoid footprints that will link to you. You take the plastic sheet from your crate before rolling it to the moldy floors. This is where you will be putting the dead bodies and put them on the body bags you brought. Individually wrapping them up like spring rolls.
It was tasking for a individual work but doing it for months made your body stronger — strong enough to haul bodies heavier than yours. You began your work, stacking them up like building blocks and rolling them with a huff as you struggled cause why men looks like they're light and only to find out they're heavy with that kind of body. Even in death they were still dead weight.
After hauling the last body, you made your way to the blood trail with your handy cleaning tools along with a special solution. You were quick to learn for your trade of cleaning crime scenes for the organizations that pays you a lump sum of money enough to sustain you and sometimes they will throw an extra to a job well done which you always do.
You can always use the referral for your services. The quietness of the warehouse didn't bother you much. It was once a quiet night to work in and you doubt there will be anyone after such bloodied mess. You only focused on scrubbing the dried blood from the dry floor and sweep the dust to conceal the scent of your special solution. It wasn't that pungent but it didn't hurt to be extra careful. Discretion was your specialty.
The OTTO encircles the area and the humming sound coming from it was the noise you can hear while you busy yourself. Halfway through when it got too quiet and your OTTO was missing. You stopped in your tracks.
You remained crouching with a brush in your hand as you raised your head. Listening to any telltale signs or noise that you're not entirely alone in this warehouse. Perhaps the heavy footsteps or a puff of breath. Anything that may harm you but nothing and you thought that maybe your OTTO malfunctioned since it was really a old model that you managed to salvage cause you can't still manage to upgrade it.
You were about to finish anyway and so scrubbed the floor a little harshly until the blood has separated from the floor before sweeping dust all over it before you walked towards where you hear your OTTO humming.
It was behind the crates, you can see your OTTO was blinking lights and was roughened in the edges with claw marks. The sight of your half destroyed companion send shivers down your spine. It feels like you were surrounded but when you look around there was nothing. You swallowed. Your hands inside the gloves were starting to moist. The pit of your stomach feels like sinking.
Something dangerous is near and you can't really pinpoint where it is. You try to balance it out. The pros and cons of leaving for your safety but your job was still not done. You couldn't really risk losing the source of your living in the N109 Zone and besides you faced fear many times before. What's the harm of risking another?
Deciding that you really can't leave your job, you grabbed your broken OTTO and decided that it really needs a replacement and it's been long and it should rest for being your companion for a long time. Still, seeing it destroyed pains you.
Now you have to manually check that they will be no evidence that you've been here after your OTTO’s broken.
A step and sudden jolt of uneasiness strikes you again. Raising your head, you caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette in the upper railings. The sound of flapping wings followed by a rather loud caw. Black feather slowly descending towards you and landing in your outstretched palm.
God, any minute now or seconds he will be appearing now.
Snap.
A swirl of black and red mist appears in front of you and just like that — your main love interest, leader of Onychinus and the one who rules the N109 Zone — Sylus stands before you.
Scared? Not really. You were blinking back tears because he was so close and your mind really decided to replay what he had gone through. Dying in the hands of his sorceress and not granting him death unless she allows it. Then, they found each other again. Both immortals dying in each other's arm and again, two children fighting to death and escaping to another planet and only to separate once again and he's here in front of you.
Standing tall and immaculate with the air of authority in his stature. Head held high and you can see the subtle glow of the Aether Core in his right eye. The reds of his eyes glimmer in the dim lit warehouse.
You take a step backwards, cradling your destroyed OTTO closer to you. Not daring to speak a word or look in his eyes.
“Just when I thought these fools has learned to be careful.” He muses. A faint smirk in his lips as he looks at you and the pile of dead bodies you were about to dispose behind.
“Maybe. I'm the only person here though. Cleaning out the mess.” You shrugged. Cradling your destroyed OTTO and walking towards your “cleaning van.” You gently put your companion in a crate before grabbing the brush again to continue cleaning. Wiping the sweat off in your forehead with the back of your arm.
Sylus remains silent. Following your every movement under his gaze about this person who was unintentionally ignoring him and going back to your job. Not even an ounce of fear behind those tired eyes. Were you feigning ignorance of the truth that you saved him? The leader of Onychinus and the feared man of the N109 Zone. That matter didn't seem to bother you.
“Do you know that when people save someone they expect something in return?” He began. Baiting the person in front of him for a favor. “It’s a chance for them to rise in this wasteland.”
“I’m managing.” You pragmatically answered even when your heart is beating fast cause you know secrets in this world and you really don't want to involve yourself with Sylus. You were living quietly and you badly want to get out of this world or maybe ask him to get you a identity to live in Linkon but that would raise suspicions cause why would you ask for a identity. It's either you're a criminal or someone who doesn't belong in this world.
He also didn't belong in this world but wherever MC is, he follows. A flower who still bloomed beautifully in a different soil.
His expensive cologne wafts in the air. His shoes scraping the dust in the floor. His coat swaying every movement and it's enough to intimidate you and you hope you're calm in the outside.
“Oh really.” His voice lowers into a timber and oh, it was really different from his secret times and tender moments, you want to squeal so bad if it wasn't for the implication that he's already smelling your bullshit.
“You want to go home. Why is that?” You swallowed. You cursed the goddamn Aether Core in his eye that can see the desire of someone. It's true. You've been wanting to go home since you got isekaid here.
“I’m not from here. Just a terrible luck.” You confessed under the intensity of his gaze but still withholding the secret you have. You're not easy to crack but Sylus can read you like an open book.
He hums in understanding. Not forcing you to give the details of your life cause he will be the one to know it. “I don't like the feeling of being indebted from someone below me.”
“You’re not indebted to me.” You briefly paused. Daring to steal a glance before focusing the task in your hand.
“My body choose to move that day when I could have run. I have no intention of saving you.” You say in a matter-of-factly. “I don't want to involve myself to someone powerful and if you feel indebted.” Swallowing the imaginary lump in your throat. “There is one thing you can do.”
You look at him straight in the eyes.
“Leave me alone.”
Sylus raises his eyebrows. He can't brush it off why you were so adamant not being involved with him when people got the leverage to do business or something simple as favor they rush but you — you were rushing to get out of his hair.
Leave you alone? There is really something wrong and Sylus sharp instincts knows better than to grant it. To call it quits. You were also calm and composed when facing him aside from the sudden beats of your heart that he can hear.
You didn't also run the moment he made his appearance which people usually do upon meeting him. Maybe is it because you know he can't harm you after saving him that one morning. N109 Zone wasn't really that barbaric and there's sliver of morals that are still practiced.
You can't kill someone unless they're the first to draw blood or unless it was contractual and the killing is ordered. Sylus has disposed people that betrayed him or were hindering his plans.
Besides you look amateur but Sylus isn't someone to really judge based on how you look. It was finding the value of someone and with some pressure you could be a coal turning into a pearl with the right pressure.
You didn't quite grasped how the N109 Zone works and you choose the job to clean the aftermath of every shootouts and doing the dirty work of disposing corpses. You were only surviving base on your skills and Sylus can use some of your talents.
“That would be impossible, dove.”
His eyes narrowing, clearly intrigued cause it was looking into a blank slate but is packed with so much color.
He can see how you freeze for a second. Hands trembling like you were hiding a secret and the next question confirms his suspicion.
“Who are you?” Ruby red eyes stares at you. Waiting for you to crack and this where Sylus would have normally put you in a gun point. Forcing you to reveal yourself but can you really? Will he believe you? That he was only a pixelated character in a game. A otome game that doomed you for loving him? Whereas you were supposed to be the MC, the player but when you saw your reflection you were just you.
Nothing special like the MC. Not a badass hunter. Not someone's childhood friend. Not someone's bride or a princess. Not a knight nor a queen. Not a sorceress who didn't allow her dragon to truly die and be destined together with every lifetime.
You were you. A regular human who didn't possess a extraordinary power. You were someone who was flawed. Trying to survive in a place that won't be merciful to someone weak.
“It’s none of your business.” Closing the doors of your van after hauling the dead bodies to dispose of with a loud thud. If you were somewhat decent you wouldn't have shown Sylus such hostility. You know what he's capable but being cornered by him — yeah — you should be squealing or be flustered cause it was Sylus, you were in no position because you were in a dire situation and your existence doesn't contribute to the storyline of this world, including MC and his.
You also can't really tell him you're from the other world. It might be catastrophic. You don't really want to stray from canon events and the first step is to stay away from Sylus.
You were about to open the door of your van to get away. You were an inch of pulling that handle until thin red and black mists coils around your wrist. Preventing you from moving your hand.
You look at him in disbelief. Scoffing as you try to pry the tendrils of his Evol wrapped around your wrist. “Really?” You take a step forward. “Is this how you treat people who disagrees with you!?”
Sylus remains nonchalant. Although there's a hint of amusement and curiousity behind his eyes. You weren't perturbed at all with his Evol but he can give you the benefit of the doubt. “Not really. Usually they end up dead.” His hand moves manipulating it to pull you.
“Assuring but can you let me go? I really don't want anything from you. Let just call it quits, please?” You pleaded. The sleeves of your varsity jacket crumples as you try again to get out of his grip. “I still have to finish my job.” Biting your lip anxiously as you desperately look at your van. The bodies are going to rot now before you can dispose of them.
“The twins can take care of it.”
“How can Luke—” Your eyes widens, biting your tongue at your slip up. You forgot that no one really knows what the twins names are except Sylus. They were his henchmen after all and a stranger — you was the final nail in the coffin.
“Interesting.” His lips curve into a smirk and you know what it means. “You and I are going to have a long conversation.” Giving you no room to retaliate or defend yourself. It was useless anyways, no one really escapes him and you hope that you can still get out. Alive.
The hallways were dark. The warm light of the wall sconces was the source of the light. You get the idea that Sylus is taking you to the dining room where he once eviscerated someone after a disagreement and finding the other person was trying to take both sides and Sylus does not like traitors.
You were walking behind him. His Evol long deactivated cause he knows you can't run even as you try to look around for possible escape routes and you really can't even you want too. His windows are a no-no. You don't want to plummet to your death from the top floor.
Sylus pushes the door. Inside were the sleek black marble top table with two candles lit in the candelabra. A deep red velvet chairs upholstered. Everything was Sylus's taste that you saw in his bond memories where he and MC stays. Your remember their little banters and how bossy he was.
It brings a smile to your face as you take the surroundings of the room. Luke and Kieran were probably wrecking your van. They were making you jobless in the Zone. You hoped that your van will still be returned in one piece.
“Sit.” He orders you and you complied without hesitation. Sylus can be impatient and being stubborn will probably get your neck choked. Settling in the chair, it was remarkably soft. You can't remember the last time you sat in something plush. Concrete stairs and crates in warehouses were your chair. The cold floor of the temporary base you set up covered with a old mattress was your bed.
Sylus stands behind the counter. Pulling glasses to pour a drink for himself and to you. “Let’s get started with a simple conversation.” The glass clinks as he puts on cubes of ice. “I ask you a question and you will answer me.”
“Okay.” He hears you murmur. Your posture was rigid. Legs bouncing out of nervousness in the chair. Chewing on your lips and your hands were hidden in the sleeves of your jacket like you were put in a straitjacket but he knows you were scratching your skin.
You were guilty as you look. Actions don't lie. Or maybe you were anxious. He got something to ease you up. “Here.” Nudging the glass in front of you. The amber liquid sloshing with the ice. You take it. He's probably making you loosen your tongue which is maybe going to work.
His eyes follows your movement. Bringing the glass of whiskey in your lips and your nose scrunches at the sharp aroma. He watch as you look at him before breaking eye contact and taking a swig of the drink and the reaction was immediate.
Sharp violent coughs shook your whole body. Your eyes watering as the liquid burned down your throat. You used your arm to cover your mouth while you coughed. God, what kind of humiliation the universe is putting you through and in front of Sylus.
“Who are you?” He began to question you and you glare at him. Wiping the corner of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket. “A stranger.” Coughing up the last bits as you try to draw out the bitter taste.
You really don't want to lie but you were not in your world and you were afraid that you were going to disrupt the timeline of this story. You didn't want to be a huge spoiler or accidentally trigger a effect that will rip the balance of this world.
Sylus looks at you blankly. “What are you doing in the warehouse?”
“Trying to make a living. I can't survive here unless I do something.” Rubbing your knuckles in your eyes.
“Let’s get back to my former question. Who are you?” His voice are dripping with venom and you watch the subtle twitch of his hands and the next thing will be is he's blowing your head off.
“You want to know? I'm just some unfortunate soul who got here.” Pursing your lip in a thin line. Conflicted on how to process your emotions. You were scared, frustrated and angry. You shouldn't have saved him.
“And now you’re going to ask why I knew Luke and Kieran.” You paused for a bit. The confession is going to give you a headache. “You're a pixelated game character on my world.”
And the headache begun. He only raised his brows like you were just messing up with him. “I know how ridiculous it sounds but it's true.”
“You don't believe me? You're Sylus Qin. You're a wanted criminal in Philos and you escaped from Tartarus.” You began to explain. Legs bouncing anxiously with every tick of the clock. Sylus was practically a weapon ready to fire at any moment.
“Want to know more? You manipulated Miss Hunter to kill you when she was a sorceress and you were a dragon. You were ostracized from your own kind. You can't die unless she allows you to. You were also children too. Fighting to death in the arena with the other children and when it's down to both of you — you made the decision to escape and she did too but you two got separated.” You revealed. “Is that enough?”
He didn't say anything else as if convinced. “How did you end up here?”
“I don't know. I just woke up in the middle of the road.”
Sylus didn't press anything more. As far as he knows you're an anomaly.
”Can I leave now?” You asked. Thinking this interrogation is done and you really don't want to disrupt this world. Afraid that if you interfere some butterfly effect would activate and all of this world are going to be doomed. The plot was really important and every decision of the characters either make or break.
You waited for his response. Thinking of the van that are being used by the twins. You hoped that they know where to dump the bodies and your van isn't being banged up. The source of your income and means of survival rests on how they treat your van.
“I'm afraid that's not going to happen.”
“W-waa—what? Why!?” Eyes wide in disbelief. Your brows are raised and with the little shot of that alcoholic unnerved you in ways that you didn't know you can.
You look at him like you hit your head (which you already did by thunking your forehead in the top rail of your chair) and find that he's real ugly but he's not. He's hot. Infuriatingly hot. You can't count how many times you fantasize kissing Sylus and moisturize that dry lips of his.
You wanted that when he was on your screen and now, you're not, maybe a little. Get a grip! You tell to yourself but you dread about this — of not being able to leave. You're going to be in the front row and watch the world fuss about MC. The next days are going to be the start of her story with Sylus. Their first meeting.
“You're an anomaly in this world.”
Your heart drops. Of course, you're an anomaly. Sylus must have analyzed you or searched for your identity and to only find nothing.
“You know a lot about of things going around here and I can't have you running around with that kind of information.” He reasons, taking a step towards you.
“I'm basically a NPC in this world. I don't see the relevance of me being here.” You counter. Pressing your forehead in the back of the chair because you really didn't want to be involved with him.
“What if I say, I don't want to?”
“You really don't have a choice here, kitten.”
“Fuck.” You muttered, running our reasons to use. “I have a job around here. I can't have you bossing me around. I won't also ask for a compensation.” Referring to your destroyed OTTO and your van that is going to be thrashed by the twins. You can always start. You survived your first day and managed to live this long.
Sylus can see the reluctance in you. Mixed with the desperation of not wanting to get involved with him. He's a dangerous man. Money isn't really a problem for him and he can get you a nice place to live and a brand new van and the latest OTTO catered to your needs. When in reluctance, give them the assurance.
“Is cleaning up dead bodies and blood that fun?” Your eyes flickers towards him. “Not really but it keeps my stomach full and meets my basic needs. Shelter I have plenty.” Rubbing your arm in an attempt to comfort yourself. Eyes a little droopy and your lips curled into a frown.
Living in the N109 Zone with no means of being the strong was your struggle. It was life or death for you.
“I have a proposal.” When you can't convince someone, you put the stakes higher. Sylus continues as he noticed you tilt your head. Interested at the proposal he was about to make.
“You will be provided everything you need. You shall never starve or work for your food. I will give you shelter. You can hole up in one of the rooms here. I have plenty. You will have a identity you desire. A clean slate for you to start somewhere new.”
“That's preposterous for someone like you, Sylus.” Shaking your head as you try to think about what to do before looking back at him. “I can't be near you. I'm a walking spoiler.” You swallowed as if there's something stuck in your throat.
“If information is what you want of future events, I can't tell you about it. I won't disrupt the natural order of this world.” Pulling your jacket and standing up. Putting back the chair in its right place.
“The only mistake I did was to save you.”
“Is that so?” He hums.
Thinking of what he should do about you. “Such trivial matters don't bother me. You're not really disrupting anything and I won't ask for information.” You can see the brief flicker of light passing through his right eye where the Aether Core is placed.
“Work for me. You'll get more benefits than what you wished for.”
He watched as you hesitate. You will still have a choice with the proposal he suggested. You are free to operate around his area and maybe he'll take you as a secretary. It's unlikely you'll betray him. You're smart for your own good to betray as someone powerful like him.
It didn't take long for a few seconds for you to decide.
“Fine.”
The smirk on his face grew wider.
You gave the arrangement six months.
It shouldn't be too long or less. You wanted Sylus to make it shorter because any time soon or any day, he and MC will cross paths and even you wanted to witness their long-awaited reunion — you just can't.
Because what kind of bullshit of people telling you that you are MC in your world and to find out you were the anomaly in this world even you accepted it that you really can't be MC with the game having her life determined and the routes of the story written. MC may have your face in the game but you can never be her.
It sounds bitter but this was your reality. You're not about to witness their love when you have a life to live. A few months staying under his base is the thing you have to live through. You didn't understand why Sylus has to take you under his wing.
You did say you weren't tell him about the future happenings or any information that will about to happen. Probably he's getting bored and what's a little fun to observe a anomaly for his entertainment.
That's your sentiment but you know Sylus isn't that cruel to treat you as one. He may have his reasons and you will never know any of it.
The least you can do is stay put until there's a change of events. It's a matter of time before the story line of the game will start to happen and when MC has grown curious about the N109 Zone and Sylus.
The Onychinus base was huge. Well, huge is an understatement. It's a whole fricking building and despite that doing nothing means you're penniless. Sylus did tell you that the commodities in the building are free to use but a week after almost exploring the whole base — you found yourself restless.
You've been on the run the moment you were transported in this world. Always thinking for ways to survive. Hustling to get by and earn that money that was essential for your job and puts a food in your table. You were always on the lookout for jobs that needs your specialty. It's pay per transaction and you take pride in your work.
Abandoning your livelihood means abandoning your security. There was no discussion about it between you and Sylus even he did say you will work for him, there was really nothing about the job description and you hate to think you were freeloading to him.
So you did what you know best — accepting a clean up job. The pay was huge. The bigger the money they offer the messier and complicated it was but you didn't care. Money is money. You take the keys of the van Sylus owed you after the twins has trashed it like you expected.
You begin to drive towards your destination after picking up a new stash of cleaning supplies you have hidden in one of your hideouts.
The building wasn't that ruined when stepped out of your van. It changed by the times and the lack of maintenance made it unsuitable for moving.
You began to unload the supplies from your bag. Securing the roll of plastic wraps and duct tapes. A makeshift cart that contains all of your cleaning materials with some strong chemical that's enough to knock someone out when inhaled.
The scene that greeted you were something out of a horror film or some sci-fi you used to watch back in your world.
Bloody was the least you will used to describe the scene. It was beautiful. If you can ignore the lifeless bodies impaled with ice spikes. The paleness of the blues of ice mixes with the red. Creating a almost whimsical look like a blood red moon.
You guessed that you find anything as visceral as this normal after cleaning up places. Murder with the use of Evol wasn't unheard of, you've clean plenty of it and disposed mutilated bodies that was almost beyond recognition. You've also thrown bodies or parts of one in a single trash bag.
Time is the essence and even with the structured ice Evol, it was starting to melt and when ice are thawed — everything's going to be bloody from here and so you began to take your trusty lightsaber-esque equipment that's good for cutting through metal, bones and of course, ice. As long they're solid it gets the job done.
The smell didn't even bother you. It was like meat that you left to defrost and forgot to take it out for cooking and it starts to go bad. It's worse for you the first time but the fear of not being able to survive gets you out of that disgust.
Pressing the button of your tool, it shortly crackles — bursts and emits a bright orange glow and then you start to cut through flesh and bone.
It's good to know that you're still capable.
After that work and clean up, you were done for the day, night. You still didn't regulate your sleeping hours even with the comfortable place Sylus provided for you at the base and paired with restlessness.
Driving back to Onychinus base made you uneasy, sure you move places to places and sometimes settled for months but a month in Sylus's base didn't feels like something you can live with. You were grateful but coming back to the base is still unfamiliar territory for you.
Attachment creates dangerous conflicting feelings and having known danger and how powerful attachment can be — you ignored.
It's the reason why you keep the interaction to Sylus minimal except when it's necessary and you can't avoid him without being too obvious.
You surely can't start catching feelings for him even he's your main love interest in the real world and when he's a game character. But how about when he's real and you're near him? That you can hear his voice, can touch him and talk to him? Can you not really fall in love? And there's MC.
But it's difficult when you're in his world and living in his base where any chance you can bump into him and it happened the moment you were about to retreat in your room. The hallways were big but it connects to everything.
You were about to turn when you almost bump into Sylus. The familiar outfit that he almost dons everyday in your home screen is what he wore. "Hey." You awkwardly greeted him. Gripping the hem of your sweatshirt that reeks with the scent of blood and chemicals for cleaning.
"I thought you might have escaped.”
Liar. He knows where you are and he knows your circumstances. You can't leave him. Not yet.
“As you can see, I can't. I'm powerless.” You murmur.
There's a moment of awkward silence but it might be you until Sylus broke it.
“Care to join me for lunch, dove?”
You didn't know why Sylus started to call you dove but maybe he was referring you to one like the dove MC rescued and was put in his care temporarily in the Nightplumes card. It didn't happen yet but the cards are connected to the future events after their meeting.
You refused. “No, thank you. I'm not really—” Your stomach betrays you, growling like you haven't eaten for days. “— hungry.” You finished to say with your cheeks burning hotly from embarrassment.
Sylus chuckles and you badly want to jump out outside the window and plummet to your death.
“Do you really find me insufferable?” He asks, his eyes narrowing although there's a lilt.
“Insufferable? No. I don't find you like that or anything.” He's many things but insufferable. You mumble, concealing the expressions that might show in your face as your brain panics.
“Good. It would be a bad thing if my guest finds me intolerable.”
Turns out Sylus has already set up the table in the terrace. His chef, you meet him the second day in your stay in Sylus's base and asked you what you wanted to eat. The Onychinus leader told you that you have permission to use the kitchen or ask the chef whatever you felt like eating.
You absolutely remember the terrace it was shown in the kindle of his first myth card where he taught MC on how to improve her combat skills. Knowing the terrace part of the base is where Sylus sometimes took his meals.
If you did suddenly get back home, you have a lot of things to brag as you take your sit across "Boss-man Sylus."
It's not like everyday is an opportunity to share a table with Sylus, the most desired love interest in your world.
“How was your work today?”
“Grotesque but it's nothing that I can't handle.” You shrugged, taking your cutlery and mimicking Sylus's gesture as he began to eat.
You have quite the appetite despite the scene earlier. Your stomach has gotten thick overtime as you took that line of work.
"I assume someone has gone rouge.”
“If you would put it that way.”
He hums. Gently twirling the glass of wine and the red liquid sloshed inside of it. He takes a sip before resuming on his meal. You had done the same and the taste of wine made your taste buds burst into these tiny quantities of flavors you can taste.
Amusement glimmers in Sylus's eyes. Watching you taste something that you're not accustomed to. You told him that back in your world you have a job that covers your expenses and an extra for some indulgence.
Your indulgence was getting all his cards.
“Do you find your room comfortable?” He pries.
“Yes, thank you.” You whispered. Meeting his gaze to show how sincere you are. You missed having a real bed not the make shift beds you have to temporarily sleep with.
“You really didn't need to spend much on me. I'm not staying that long.” Reminding him of your arrangement.
Sylus chuckles. “I'm not the one to forget, dove.” Leaning on his chair and crossing his legs. “You plan to go back in your job?” His eyes narrows at you.
“Maybe. I didn't really asked you about the details when you said that I'm working for you.” You told him. Putting your fork down cause you know where this conversation is being headed.
“How about as my secretary?” He says without a beat. The way he says it was the same as he speaks in the game and you would have accepted it within a heartbeat if it wasn't for the position you are in.
“Me?” You asked, hoping you misheard it or your ears was playing tricks. “Your secretary? You don't even know me that much to be entrusted with that kind of work.”
“I don't need to know what kind of person you are.”
“I know you're not the one to make stupid decisions and I'm not going to doubt your judgement but even I am an anomaly in this world there's a chance that I will betray you.” You say, gripping the table cloth. Well, there's no betrayal that's going to happen but it was an excuse and a reason not to get closer to him.
Sylus smirks. You can see the amusement flickering all over his eyes at what you said. You were getting more interesting as the seconds pass and Sylus likes who he deemed interesting.
“People who plan to betray me don't tell me they're betraying me. You’re selling yourself short, dove.” He pauses, crossing his legs underneath the table while he waits for your response.
He can see that you were still torn and hesitating.
“Take this offer and I'll make sure it will be worthwhile for the both of us.”
Is what he said and now, you're thinking that doomsday is already ahead in the game with you interfering. You hope that Sylus stays canon with MC and the original plot still intact.
May Astra or whatever deity send you back home before you disrupt the world with your existence.
