warnings: references to sexual acts, cheating, (asshole darkling)
summary: All you have ever wanted was to matter. In secret, the general made you feel like it, but it was never genuine. You watched from a distance as Alina Starkov got everything you had ever wanted.
author’s note: This got me a little teary-eyed. In all seriousness, if you look near the end, you will see my critiques of young adult fiction aimed at young, impressionable girls even though I love it to death.
Even the ceiling of General Kirigan’s room was much more luxurious than the cramped chamber that you and the other maids of the Little Palace slept in. He and you lived completely differently, and you wanted to believe it all resulted from chance and not from the fact that the universe believed that it was what you deserved.
In all the years of your life, you never stood out or excelled at anything. Your ability to blend into the background of wherever you were may have been a talent, but it was not something that was ever rewarded. People like you stepped aside while the important people took what they wanted and did what they pleased.
As you slept next to the general on his bed, you wondered that if things turned out differently that you would not be the type of person who would have to leave before anyone saw that you entered. You wanted to dwell on this feeling a little longer, but that would not leave you with enough time to sneak out before he woke up. Just the way he liked it. Yet, you could not be mad at him.
Once you slipped off the bed without shaking it, you discreetly put on your clothes. As you did this, you watched Aleksander. In the silence of the early morning, you got to see what he looked like at complete peace. His features were relaxed, and that was when they were the most beautiful. The tranquility of the atmosphere almost made you forget who he was and who you were and what job each of you had.
As you were about to make your way past him to get to the door, you felt his hand grab your wrist. The way that your body reacted to his touch made you want to ask him to do it again, but you could not afford to. Maybe he was going to ask you to stay. At least that was what you had always hoped for the first time you ever gave yourself to him.
“Tell Bertha to put less lavender in the bath today,” he muttered into his pillow.
“Yes, General Kirigan.” You did not even want to turn around to look at him, but you still forced yourself to form a tight smile and a polite cadence.
You wanted everything that you experienced last night and every night before to be genuine and real. You would have given your own soul for him to kiss you when he had sex with you.
“Where were you last night?” one of the maids asked in a whisper.
“I went to bed early,” you plainly replied as you scrubbed the chairs harder.
Your job was never a distraction from any miserable aspect of your life because it mostly required you to remain silent and get it done. The wealthy, the important, and the powerful did not like to hear the sound of the poor, the unimportant, and the weak among them because it was like the sound of a persistent mosquito.
Working at the palace was a personal hell that was designed for you. Maybe you deserved it. Sometimes you thought that you were greedy in your past life and your punishment was leading an insignificant life, which was a sentence that was much crueler than some realized. Maybe if you were a kind person, your next life would not require you to watch from a window the man that you loved laugh with the women you envied.
Alina Starkov was everything you had ever wanted to be. She was pretty, powerful, and important. She was a perfectly crafted personification of all your late-night prayers from when you were a child. You wished to be anyone else but yourself. It would have been an honor to just step into her shoes to walk for a moment because you were just a servant. If you were to die at that moment and be birthed to an even crueler existence, no one would notice. No one would cry. History would move on, and no one would be there to write a biography about your life.
While she got closer to him as their conversation deepened, you were forced to only relive what his presence felt like the night before. You tried to remember what he felt like when he touched you and how you reacted when he was inside of you. This was nice for a moment until you blinked again and saw that she was still there talking to him.
As you folded the towels near his bathtub, you made sure that everything he needed would be at his disposal. Right near the ending of completing your duties, you heard the sound of the door open. While you would have been eager to see his face as you left the room, you were caught off guard by the sound of more than one pair of feet coming inside.
You were always taught to keep your head down a mind your business, but moments like this were when you loved to shoot yourself in the foot. You were often self-destructive when it came to anything that had to do with him.
As you walked out, you froze at the sight of him with the Sun Summoner. Of course, they did not see you step out of the bathroom. You faded into the wallpaper like the clear glue that held it on the wall.
You cleared your throat, “Excuse me.”
They both were surprised at your attendance and all you could do was bow as you cut right through their burning bodies like a passing leaf. You received a blank look from General Kirigan and an awkward but sympathetic smile from Alina. She was kind as well, and you hated her for it.
“Who was that?” you heard her genuinely asked as the door was a millimeter away from being closed behind you.
“I’m not quite sure,” he replied.
You wished that you never heard what he said, but what difference would it make on him? You could not hate him even if you actively tried.
Even the following day, as he was making a mark on your neck that you would have to cover, your knees were still weak, and your stomach still felt swollen with affection for him. You could already feel him going further, but for once in your life, your mind was dominating your fragile, beating heart.
“I can’t tonight,” you said as you gently gestured him off. You thought that if you pushed him too hard, he would never come back.
“Why?” he asked.
“With what? Everyone in the palace is either asleep or guarding.” After looking into how much your eyes were dancing around the room as you swallowed one too many times, he could already tell what was wrong. He had seen it before. “Is this about earlier today?”
“No.” You nervously shook your head.
He brought out his hand and gently patted your head. That was the first nonsexual affectionate gesture that he had ever given to you, and you were already collecting the crumbs into your pocket for safekeeping.
“Don’t take it so seriously,” he said. You just wish he gave you a reason not to.
You wish you could say the next day you were not constantly replaying the feeling of his hand patting you. During the late evening, as you were fixing the disorderly parts of his room, you pretended that you were a princess, and he was the kind prince that was coming to secretly meet you in his chambers. It was so easy to dissociate into an unrealistic fantasy since it was something you had been doing since you were a child –when you became aware of the haves and the have nots. You never had anything in abundance and some other things not at all.
He came into his room, seeming to be high off of something that was not you. Without warning, the door opened, and he was already hastily trying to take off your clothes. Within a minute, he was already oceans deep into making more marks on your chest as he was preparing you to feel all of him inside of you. Then there was a knock at the door. It was delicate.
“That’s what she calls him?” you thought.
He was already moving you across the room before you knew what was happening. By the time he said that she could come in, you were inside his closet. The only way you could tell that the world was still moving was through the slits of the wooden doors. You could still see enough.
He spoke to her like you were not trying to hold your breath to keep her from finding out you were there. They spoke around the conversation they made for what felt like ages, but you could read everything between their words.
At some point, you thought that you would just wander into your mind to keep the jealousy from eating you in the closet before you could escape, but that was before you saw him kiss her. He looked happy when he did it and she seemed even happier as their lips moved like it was an interaction that was planned since the beginning of time. He kissed her far better than you could ever imagine him kissing you.
As they went on, you felt every part of your chipped heart disintegrate into powder. The closet felt smaller and smaller, and for a moment in your dizzy state, you saw him look past the wooden slits and directly into your eyes. The image was painful and something that would be tattooed on your brain until you were buried next to all the other unimportant servants of the Little Palace.
As you stared at the ceiling of General Kirigan’s room, you noticed it was much more luxurious than the cramped chamber that you and the other maids of the Little Palace slept in. Your body was sticky from what you had just done when Alina had finally left. He had you both fooled. You were begging to kiss him while Alina was wanting him to go further.
You wished you were stronger. You wished you could hate him instead of her. Every time you saw her face, you were reminded of everything you lacked. A lot of it was out of your control, but that was what made it more frustrating. She was the embodiment of what you believe to be the perfect girl. The perfect girl was always immeasurably special, but she could never want it. To be pretty, powerful, and important, you could not dare to wish for it, and you wanted it. So deeply.
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Summary: An imposing figure in black makes the most interesting dance partner as the truth of a budding relationship comes to light.
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova (The Darkling) x Female!Reader (Shadow and Bone)
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: None. Aleksander is… nice? Nervous? Kind of romantic?
A/N: partially inspired by the dance scene in P&P. Thanks for reading and as always, thoughts and feedback is very welcome!
Quick Links: Masterlist // Request Guidelines
You had seen those eyes before.
You had never seen such a sight before. A darkness only second to the night sky; a void so encompassing that any soul willing to get lost inside of them would be gone forever. They were as addictive as his charm. Although you had never conversed longer than a few moments, he compelled you. He conceived a dormant emotion so buried it took three meetings before it became realized. Lust was near immediate; attraction had come next.
General Aleksander Morozova could offer someone the world. A powerful Grisha with money and looks, he graced the planet with an awareness only people with privilege contained. Young Grisha admired him, his fans adored him, and while deep inside those feelings were reflected within you, you could not help but resent the man for who he presented to be. A superiority far beyond the common man; a pompous prejudice to separate himself from them.
The man simply ate at your every waking thought–both the good and the bad. The night was going to offer no reprieve.
The evening had set off with a bang. The chandelier's glowed with an orange gleam, illuminating the golden sconces and oil paintings that littered The Little Palace's walls. A ball, for Ravka's finest, was a "welcome home" present for the General and his army who had been gone for some time on a mission to The Fold. Because of that, the jubilant energy was contagious. Champagne flowed freely, the band had struck up chords only heard during the most joyous of holidays, and the guests danced with finesse.
And as the evening began and progressed through a dinner and dance, you hadn't been lucky enough (or perhaps honored) to see the man of the hour. Surely, he wouldn't have been missed. The figure dressed in all black against a sea of color and joy? It captures even the smallest child's attention away from the lemon cakes.
"Oh, Y/n! Stop scowling and join us!" The near-drunken mewling's of your friends who stood on the sidelines of the dance floor distracted you from your thoughts. The current waltz boring their eyes and minds, finally realizing that you hadn't joined them to gawk at the uniformed men and elegant ladies.
"Yes! Evidently she finds the table more interesting than us." Another said far too loudly, earning a cold glare from the face they had grown up with. Childhood friends could be the worst when it came to teasing or simply be aggravating every time they opened their mouths. With a huff, you complied for the time being.
Standing on the sidelines, an outcast among Grisha.
A waltz filled the open space by the people who paid you no mind, the women scoffing at the less than stellar gown that your mother had made. There was nothing you could do to ensure you had a sparkling gown in the middle of a war. Though those women did not care about the world at war. They did not care of The Fold that stole away family members daily, or that it had been raging for two decades and appeared never-ending. For the night, you pushed those irritable thoughts from your mind and watched the couples dance rhythmically to the sounds of the violin, the piano.
And then it stopped. The world falling still as the doors opened wide and the air in the room became cold.
The swinging of skirts or the taping of shoes couldn't mute the silence that filled the air when the music ceased. As if a wave of winter air from beyond the palace walls had turned them frigid, the room halted enjoyment of a brief second in time. At one end of the hall, the one where guests would come and go, three figures stood observant. On the left, a woman with her hair pinned perfectly and a far too expensive gown; the right a company Captain of Etherealki looking excitedly at the crowd; and in the middle, him.
A grand entrance for a grand man, Aleksander Morozova would accept nothing less. Over time, the exaggerated receptions and persona of the General would mute for circumstances very few would discover, though for the time, two decades after the creation of his most devious secret, Aleksander basked in being a "descendent" of that shadow summoner. He walked with that purpose through the split aisle of guests who stopped amidst his presence.
With every step, a curtsey and a bow–respect that boosted his ego. But he noticed those eyes too. Just as you had his, Aleksander believed the opposite about yours. The color, so perfectly gifted to the person he barely knew; a kindness he hadn't been blessed with; a wall of strength surrounding them. Whether he understood it or not, the way gravity almost guided him directly to you was filled with the attraction of an opposite. Someone who would highlight his few good qualities and mellow out the poor ones. A person he could turn to in complicated times to be reminded that the universe did not set him out to be alone forever.
Even as he passed you and your friends standing on the sidelines beyond the already dancing quests, he felt that spark that electrified you. The pure connection of a glance was thrilling–and it scared you. The unknown... the realization that he was someone so much larger than yourself and yet he continued to seek your attention, your company.
It was everything and nothing at once.
And it consumed your attention until a finger snapped in front of your face.
"Earth to Y/n! The excitement is over here!" So they laughed, giggled at your attention being occupied but they couldn't truly understand. None of them were married, simply filled their time with passing soldiers with no penchant for commitment. Their relationships were shallow, forgetful, and filled with a need to be satisfied and forgotten.
"Let's get some champagne and maybe one of these fine gentlemen will sweep me off my feet." You didn't even bother to figure out which friend had said it because it meant nothing to you. The source of your attention was whisked away into a conversation about military this, or military that, attention preoccupied with everything but you.
The champagne was cold. It's bubbly nature not sitting well against the nerves in your stomach that continued to grow with every minute. It was like this every time you were in his presence or in a brief conversation. What words would you trip over? How would you embarrass yourself only to believe yourself to be an utter fool afterwards? The drink brought all those insecurities to light, to be remembered and thought over again and again until there was nothing more to dissect. Condensation began to drip. The droplets falling onto your fingers like raindrops.
Drip. One side of the glass. Inside of your middle finger.
Drip. Other side of the glass. Tip of your thumb.
Drip. Same side as the first. Middle of your pointer finger.
Your eyes paid no attention to it. They found themselves searching, just like your brain. Over the nameless faces in the crowd, the officials, the women, the parents, and diplomats. It meant nothing to you, yet it meant it all because there, in that room, there was a stronger pull. The air was thick and tense. No one had been walking on eggshells but the moment the General arrived changed the mood. While people still danced and enjoyed themselves, the women glanced more frequently away from their partners; the soldiers stood straighter and stopped drinking as quickly. Aleksander made them nervous. He could sense it and so could you.
Though your nerves laid more with that feeling mentioned prior. The lust was there, the attraction building with every meeting that felt more taboo than normal. You were not a Grisha. Your parents worked for the Palace, both Materialki with a child who possessed no abilities of her own. A shred of embarrassment always followed you around and having the attention of the man who mattered most was anxiety inducing. The society that surrounded Grisha's was toxic. It was hierarchical and filled with a faction of people filled with a pride only preserved for the greatest. Not that you could blame them on occasion, they had seen years of persecution and deserved peace–but certainly not supremacy over others.
And as you glanced from soul to soul, you saw it seeping from the very smiles that filled the room. The laughter and discussion that flowed freely between them, the lowliest of staff enjoying themselves against the odds of the room. You felt like an outsider in a world so familiar and far away. The world could barely be touched, yet here in this room, you were inside of it still looking out.
"Enjoying the evening?"
Some would describe the interruption to cut glass; a voice disturbing the peace and startling the solemn energy that had settled around you. Aleksander did not have that effect. His voice was warm, deep with quiet nature not many would expect from one in his position. Out of the corner of your eye, he stood tall and relaxed beside you with a gap large enough to not cause alarm. In his slender, long fingers around flute of his own sweating against the warming air of the ballroom. Both of you would be lying if somewhere deep inside you hadn't been wishing for a moment to converse.
"It is quite the sight."
"That it is." He took a lengthy sip from the glass, his attention faced forward at the crowd of excitable dancers.
“I am surprised to see no line of fawning admirers asking you to dance.” Observation disclosed. Aleksander gave a shrug, a meager frown returned upon the suggestion.
“You make it sound as if I’d like to dance.” Thoughts confessed. A slight smirk graced your face, the flute drawn to your lips tossing back the remaining champagne as half a reply.
“Do you dance, General?”
“Not if I can help it. Though, if the right partner were to ask, I’d reconsider.”
There was a lightness to his voice that hadn’t been there prior. The General’s face remained stern, unbecoming over his suave features and acted as though the conversation hadn’t taken a turn for something more than just a friendly chat.
"You do not take the initiative?" The etiquette of gender roles and dance reversed.
"Only if one was tolerable enough to warrant an ask."
"No one in this room, I concur?"
"That remains to be seen."
This was line you had been teetering on with the General. An improper, salacious line that drew two conflicting parties into an unknown possibility. The thought itself was enticing enough to act on it, except the court of public opinion rained on that small dream. Yet here he was in a room full of people who admired and adored him, and he was conversing—flirting—with you. It was hard to stop when lust had been overtaken by attraction which was then followed by the scary, commitment drive word of love.
“And who would fit the criteria for a worthy partner?” Balance on the tightrope of flirtation. Balance and stay afloat.
He turned slightly, one arm bent behind his back in a fashion he could pull off by being both imposing and enticing. The flute tipped itself gently in your direction as his eyes met yours for the first time not separated by more than a foot.
“That’s a secret for the person I choose Ms. L/n.” The glass returned upright, and he tilted his head before turning away. Before you could register the conversation over, Aleksander turned back. His long legs bringing him closer than before and the uptick of his right lip made you immediately believe that perhaps you had him all wrong. Maybe it was a game to him, talking and flirting with the outcast daughter of two Grisha.
Though the air had turned with a prying suspicion that woke a feeling deep within you. It may have been the way his eyes bore into your soul with a profound truth acknowledged by only yourself, but Aleksander didn’t leave a conversation and return to it with a question for a guest—a distant acquaintance who subverted his expectations of a non-Grisha. He walked the unsure waters of questions that offered a possibility of rejection, another piece of the world he was not fond of.
“If you aren’t otherwise occupied—“ He could tell you weren’t doing anything other than standing around It was the one aspect of the night he was certain of.
“—I’d like the next dance, Ms. L/n.”
And your heart palpitated ferociously against your chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump. A cold sweat of nerves adding perspiration to your palms; your eyes blinking in surprise. Everything and nothing—a dance with a man who has stolen all but your personality and a short dance for the sake of the evening. Nevertheless, his intentions were shrewd with uneasiness from your perspective.
General Aleksander Morozova did not simply ask a plebeian to dance. Had you been reading into the brief passing moments you shared too deeply? Why would a man like him want to take you for a spin around the room? Aleksander’s companions would surely get a laugh about the girl who held on his arm.
But you would never know unless you accepted. Something in the air told you to at least give it a try.
“I’d be honored, General.”
The music changed; Aleksander extended a hand as he set his glass down on the nearest table. A brief second of hesitancy unsettled him, knowing that you may change your mind, but the hesitancy came from a fear of what others may think, not what either of you felt inside. When he took your hand in his, it felt right. The nerves subsided with his guidance; a fluidity of motion that felt natural against the odds.
As the other guests lined up and faced their partners for the dance, your eyes looked to his for an answer to your fears. There was no smile, no jesting behavior that indicated a scam. He saw the growing panic in your soft motions.
"Is it against the etiquette of dance to have a conversation? I do hate the silence." Aleksander asked you in attempt to alleviate any uncertainty that was rising. If he could talk to you, he could reassure with his charm that whatever he did to make you nervous was misunderstood.
"I am positive it is. Though, I would not be opposed to something other than this ghastly music."
"You would think a violinist would know how to play..." His tone was light, humorous, which elicited a small chuckle from you. Even with the rhythmic turning and time apart, Aleksander made the effort to continue conversation.
"Remind me next time to hire someone new. He truly cannot tell chord from chord."
"Duly noted." Next time... saints! Your heart soared against your internal scolding.
"Do you enjoy dances, Ms. L/n?" A simple, respectful conversation.
"I never have the chance. Though, if the company is more than favorable it brightens the evening." You surprised yourself with the answer, slightly shocked at your willingness to be flirtatious and excitable amidst your nerves and uneasiness overall. The answer garnered a smile on his face. It was the kind that made the sides of his eyes crinkle, the whiteness of his teeth shone brightly in the candlelight. It was a sight of pure joy on a man so unfamiliar with the concept it was refreshing.
"I would have to agree." There was a brief lull. The movement between other guests dancing prevented any conversation to be had. Even with the distance slightly growing, the burning feeling of attraction remained between you both.
"This dance doesn't allow for much conversation does it?" Aleksander scoffed although it sounded like a small laugh. Whatever the sound truly was, it was beautiful.
"No, it's not. You are making a gallant effort, though, General."
"As long as it is appreciated...?" There was a slight question that hung at the end of his answer. He was walking the same rope as you and as you teetered from one side to the other, he wanted to know if the effort was worth it.
"It is." The small smile you gave in return followed by a feeling of heat growing on your face. Aleksander found the sentiment genuine and captivating. You had captivated him.
"Are your parents enjoying the evening? I haven't had the privilege of speaking with them."
"Undoubtedly. My mother has been waiting for this all week. She is quite the dancer if one were to ask... My father has two left feet, which she claims is his only fault."
"I'll have to thank her for passing her skills on to you."
You weren't sure how to reply. The compliment had been earnest and true, a glint in his dark eyes told you that. You simply took the nerves and fears and placed them into a question.
"I am sure she is surprised to me out here... let alone with someone like you."
"What do you mean?"
"You're quite the imposing figure, General. I would certainly be seen as an enemy if it weren't for my parents."
There is where the uncertainty had come from, and he understood to an extent. While he would never understand the life of a non-Grisha, he could relate to feeling like an outcast, an undesired being that is ostracized for nothing more than something they cannot control.
"You may not be a Grisha, but you are no enemy of mine."
No enemy. Not ever–never would be and never could be.
"But to the others? The soldiers and guests who continue to stare as if I've crossed a fine line? It is not as though they make a secret of their distaste." Your eyes darted around him. While his stature was tall and foreboding, the eyes of people staring was unavoidable.
"Which line would that be? The one for accepting the invitation I assured would be sent or the one for indulging me in a dance?"
You walked around the woman next to you, Aleksander the soldier next to him before rejoining together with your left hand fit lightly above his right.
"Y/n, you asked the criteria of the person who would motivate me to accept or extend a dance and I would have hoped that my proposition answered that question." Aleksander whisked you away on the floor, mimicking the movements of the pairs beside you and suddenly the world disappeared around you. Time moved slowly.
It was just him, his reassuring and comforting words, and the natural motions of dance that filled your sight and soul.
"From the moment I met you, you were nothing like the woman I expected you to be. You needn't be a Grisha for me to like you, to show interest in wanting to know you. You are kind and good, speak your mind without fear of consequence. You do not pretend to be someone else to please me." With a twirl you broke contact only to be returned once more looking into the truth of his soul.
"I cannot recall another woman who is willing to spar with me regarding my choices or belittle the fashion I ride my horse. You are not them, Y/n. I do not want you to be them." You were enamored and rendered speechless. The feel of his hand in yours, the way his other felt searing at the small of your back; the world was sending you the signs of universal love and attraction. It reminded you that no matter your intrusive, negative thoughts, your gut feeling was always correct.
"No one tells me who I choose to–" Aleksander stopped himself, perhaps pushing too far in the moment only to realize the music was coming to an end.
As he held you close in those final moments of a dance, he felt the lust, the attraction, and somewhere deep within him, the love. It was unfamiliar and terrifying.
"No one tells me who I choose to love."
The world came rushing back and the crowds returned with soft murmurs and stares, your attention and thoughts no longer concerned with their opinions and comments.
"You do not have to feel the same, though I would be honored to share the last dance with you this evening."
Now time was moving too fast. And you separated. No longer connected by touch and feel, Aleksander bowed and in return you curtsied. Your mind registering the conversation, the admission of love, and what to do next. Just as he was walking away, you grabbed his kefta covered arm with purpose.
"Aleksander!" Your voice was small but firm. No titles, no formalities, just the two of you in the place of the universal truth you could accept–you both loved each other whether you fully comprehend it or not.
"I would love to."
And whatever was to happen after that second dance, it would be a mutual decision between the two of you acting as equal parties. Aleksander spoke honestly about his feelings–emotionally swept up in the feeling of dancing with you. You would do the same in private without prying eyes and ears. If you had never accepted his hand in dance, you would have never truly known his intentions. If he hadn't broke the etiquette of dance, the future would have never occurred.
Forever you would be grateful that etiquette was deferred for the sake of love.
she hated him, his stupid savior complex, and his entitledness. she didn’t waste an opportunity to make him mad, but what she wasn’t expecting is that, this time, he’d do something about it.
word count: 2,8k
pairing: the darkling x sun summoner!fem reader
contents: NSFW 18+ / brat tamer aleks / fem masturbation / some degrading stuff but it’s mild / slight breath play and spanking, if you blink you miss it
a/n: this was born out of a conversation I had with @morozovastarless where she encouraged me to write the filthiest fantasies I had and not be fucking scared of posting them. so this is for you, my love. although it’s not as dirty as what I have planned for the future, it is a different approach to what I usually write, so hopefully it came out good. the last one I wrote for aleks was kind of pretty, this one’s straight up dirty. here’s to being a dumb whore! cheers x
She’d done it again. She’d managed to somehow piss him off once more. And as much as she enjoyed getting on the general’s nerves, it was becoming tiring. Every step she took, she felt like she was stepping on his toes - or more like, tripping over them and making a fool of herself in front of him. Day in and day out. And it wasn’t even her fault. That awful prick, biggest pain in the ass she’d had to ever endure. If she wasn’t the Sun Summoner and loved her country and its people as much as she did, she would have run out of the Little Palace a long time ago.
He’d summoned her to his quarters again, surely to give her a piece of his mind and scold her for not sticking to his meticulous plan and ‘getting out of line’. And sure, she’d strayed too far off his original plan, but the tables had turned quickly mid battle and the fight had required improvisation, so she’d delivered. Wasn’t that what he wanted? For her to learn? He sure as hell was not a good fucking teacher then.
As soon as the fight had ended, she’d seen that all familiar disappointment on his face, and she knew she’d done it again. Of course, he hadn’t said anything in front of anyone, he couldn’t have everyone believing she wasn’t following his orders and he wasn’t able to get her in check. He always waited until they were alone to take his anger out on her.
She knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as she stepped into the room. He’d start off calmly, give her a chance to feel ashamed of herself, which never worked. Then, he’d move onto anger once he realized she wouldn’t give him the time of day, and yell for a while. He’d tell her how she couldn’t follow basic orders and was good for nothing, how she was going to get herself killed… same as always. After that, he’d once again try to make her understand the ‘gravity of the situation’ and that she needed to listen to him for this - whatever this was - to work. So she would put on a fake remorseful face, nod her little head and call it a day.
It was all nonsense anyway, and she didn’t care about any of it. She just wanted to sit by the lake and have a cold glass of kvas with her friends after their encounter with those damned Fjerdans, not spend the evening being told off by a man who was too dignified and proud for his own good. She couldn’t stand to be around him for too long. She felt like he was walking on eggshells with him constantly, and the fact that he didn’t seem to like her just made her dislike him even more.
She loathed how he bossed everyone around and walked around like he owned the place, his head held high, giving commands left and right - but what she hated about him most of all is that part of her longed to please him, for him to like her. She wanted - no, needed - his approval, as much as she despised to admit it. There was something so alluring about his power and his position, and as much as she detested it, she wanted him to trust and respect her.
But he hadn’t made the effort to get to know her or understand her ever since she arrived at the palace, so why was he judging her so harshly? He didn’t care, so she wouldn’t either. Fuck him and his rules. She was the Sun Summoner, even if that seemed to mean nothing to everyone around here. She didn’t have to put up with anyone’s shit, much less his.
She stared at his door, jet black and carved in intricate patterns, so imposing and staggering. She considered turning back around and running away for a good minute, but finally braced herself with a sigh and stepped into the room, too pissed off to bother knocking on the door. He was expecting her, and the quicker they could get it done and over, the sooner she’d find herself drunk and laying on a field with grass sticking to her butt.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked disinterestedly.
“Took you long enough.” He was standing over his desk, his back to her. “You know why you’re here.” His voice was dark and brooding, his shoulders tense, and he wasn’t even looking at her. She had really done it this time. “Care to explain why you strayed off the plan, again?”
“The battle required it, so I did what I thought was best for all of us.”
“You disobeyed direct orders from your general, and it’s not the first time you’ve done it. I’m starting to grow tired.”
“Well, sorry for my quick thinking and improvisation. Would you have rather we’d all gotten killed?” she answered simply, keeping her cool. He was not going to win this one.
He finally turned around to face her. He looked composed, and his expression was serene, but his eyes said otherwise. He didn’t like her answer. He walked closer to her until they were standing eye to eye, and delivered his next words carefully and with intention through gritted teeth, hoping she’d get them through her thick skull once and for all, “I am your superior, you have to listen to me and do as you’re told.”
“My superior? I thought we were ‘equals’?”
“We can’t be equals if you disrespect and disobey me constantly.”
She scoffed, already tired of his recurring speech, but finding satisfaction in his irritation nonetheless. She had to admit to herself that part of her enjoyed riling him up. There was something in his cutting voice and angry demeanor every time she pissed him off that thrilled her, that made her heart race in an exciting way.
“So what? Are you gonna punish me? Give me a good spanking?” she mocked him.
His jaw tightened at her words, his nostrils flaring. “You think this is funny?”
“I don’t care!” she snapped. “Don’t you get it? I don’t like you. I’m not some puppet you can control, and I can’t fucking stand you.”
There it was. She’d finally said it.
He walked up to her in big steps and before she knew it, he’d pinned her against the wall roughly, his hand holding her chin, his fingers digging on her cheeks. “Careful,” he whispered dangerously. His face was inches away from hers, and there was a crazy-hazed look on his eyes, his pupils dilating as he eyed her darkly. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again, understood?”
Her breathing became laboured at his close proximity, her palms sweaty. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. Normally, she’d be repulsed by his mere presence, so why wasn’t she pushing him away? Her eyes landed on his pink lips, so close to hers. She saw them parting slightly, felt the exhale of his breath against her mouth. Her head was getting fuzzy. She could smell the faint musky scent of the pine woods still lingering on his skin, so intoxicating. Saints, she almost wanted to… wanted to…
“Fuck you,” she spat, her tone full of spite.
He spun her around harshly and pushed her against the wall, her back flush to his chest, his hands on either side of her body, caging her in. Her cheek was pressed to the wall, and his lips were grazing her ear. There wasn’t an inch of space between them. “You want to say that to me again?”
She swallowed hard. Her heart was hammering in her chest, she could hear it pumping wildly in her ears and drowning out all sound. His face moved to the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse as he smiled sinisterly. Her skin prickled up at the sensation. She went completely still.
Just his presence was intoxicating, enchanting, like a drug she hated but couldn’t get enough of. He didn’t even need to touch her, just his chest pressed to her back, pinning her against the wall, both her hands on the wall where she couldn’t reach back and touch him, was enough to send her into a frenzy. Her legs were trembling. She couldn’t bring herself to push him away. She didn’t want to.
“Not so brave now, huh? What’s wrong, princess?” he sneered at her. “I’ve given you too much freedom. I’ve let you believe that you could defy me,” he shook his head, his voice filled with spite and disappointment. “If you want to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.”
He grabbed her hair harshly and pulled her head back, burying his head on her neck and the skin of her décolleté, placing his lips on her collarbone and kissing and sukcing fervently, breaking through the skin and leaving purpling marks. His other hand was around her waist, keeping her up and pressed against him - like some doll, his for the taking.
His mouth moved up, leaving a wet trail in its path, before finding her lips and shoving his tongue into her mouth mercilessly without warning, forcing her into a rough kiss, wet and sloppy. She could barely keep up with his demanding pace, but she melted into it regardless; into his darkness, succumbing to it and allowing it to swallow her whole.
Her head was hot and her mind was spinning, filled with thoughts of him and just him and his hands sliding down her body and grabbing at places she would have never dreamed of minutes ago. She could feel his whole body against hers; his hard on pressing on her backside, rubbing himself on her, a grunt leaving his lips as the material of his kefta brushed against his clothed tip.
“You need to be taught a lesson. You listen to me, you do as I say. You make me happy, and I’ll make you happy, understand? Tell me you understand.”
To be fair, she didn’t understand anything he was telling her. She was too lost in lust to truly listen to anything he was saying. Saints, she hated him. And yet, she was nodding her head eagerly, dying for more, more of anything he was willing to give her. How pathetic. It didn’t take much of him to have her crumbling in his hands, whining and agreeing like a dumb puppy, too desperate for him to think straight. If he asked her to get on her knees for him right this moment, she wasn’t so sure she’d put up much of a fight.
His lips found hers again as his hand frantically pushed past the buttons of her kefta, throwing open the material and grabbing at her breast. He pinched her nipple in between his fingers, and she moaned into his mouth, her knees buckling as he pulled at it, twisting it slightly, enough to send an electrifying shock of pain and pleasure through her whole body.
“Look at you. You claim to hate me, but your body says otherwise,” he whispered against her lips, his voice dark and sultry. She thought she could hear the faint excitement of arousal in it too, a new addition, and just the thought of it being provoked by her made her stomach jump.
This was so different to what she was used to. No one had ever kissed her like this before, or touched her like this: so demanding, so commanding, taking everything from her and yet, at the same time, giving her his all. Everything felt so frantic and passionate with him. She hated him, and at the same time, she wanted more. Her hatred for him only fueled her desire for his flesh. All she could think of was her teeth sinking into his neck as he fucked her dumb.
“Please,” she said, reaching her hand back and searching blindly for the fastener of his pants. She was well aware of how pathetic she sounded begging for him, but she didn’t care. She wanted him.
He tutted, slapping her hand away. “You’re pleading now? I’m afraid begging will get you nowhere with me,” he said, forcing her jaw to the side so she’d look him in the eye. “You’re a disobedient whore. If you don’t do what you’re told, you don’t get what you want. Now, I’m gonna have my way with you, and you’re gonna take it and shut up.”
What was she doing? She was losing her mind. She felt like putty in his hands. She’d told him she wasn’t his puppet merely minutes ago, but what was she now if not a rag doll in his hold? He was playing her strings, she knew that, giving her just enough so he could keep her on a leash, like an obedient dog - but she didn’t care, not when he was making her feel so good.
His foot moved between her own feet, forcing her to spread her legs further apart, her hands flat on the wall. His fingers moved down her waist to the front of her leg, catching her skirts in his hand before hitching them up, slithering under them to find itself in the sweet spot between her thighs. He didn’t waste a second before he put his hand inside her underwear and his fingers made contact with her aching core. He ran his thumb between her wet folds and spread her arousal around, earning a whimper from her.
His touches were light as a feather at first, holding her tight against him as she squirmed and shivered in pleasure in his hold - but he finally gave in and started to rub tight circles on her clit, rubbing her swollen nub in controlled motions, her head hanging back to find cover over his shoulder. One of his fingers dipped slightly into her entrance, and as she opened her mouth to moan, he wrapped his hand around her neck, keeping her in place over his shoulder. He squeezed the sides of her throat, cutting her breath intake for a second and making her head dizzy, combined with the teasing of his fingers sending a shockwave through her whole body.
“If this is the only way you’ll learn obedience…”
He suddenly removed his hand from her, making her whine in protest to the loss of contact, but he shut her up by shoving his slick coated fingers inside her mouth, making her taste herself on him. His other hand snuck under her skirts again, and gave her ass a firm swat that resounded through the whole room, before slipping between the back of her thighs. He eased his long fingers into her core, sliding them inside her in a swift motion that made her breath catch on her throat, gagging around the digits still inside her mouth. And just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore of his sweet torture, he started thrusting them in and out of her.
In that standing position and with her legs almost closed, two of his fingers felt like too much, too tight, and with the added intrusion inside her mouth, she felt completely full. She couldn’t help but imagine what his cock would feel like inside her, filling her up from this same position.
The filthy wet sounds coming from her cunt as he drove his fingers in and out of her were obscene. They just managed to make her feel like a dirty whore, but she had to admit it was kind of exhilarating. She just needed to sink her teeth into his flesh, feel him on her tongue.
He curled his fingers inside her, grazing all the right spots and moving his hand relentlessly, ruthlessly, at an extremely fast pace, until her legs were shaking from her quickly building orgasm and she felt like something inside her was about to spill over. She was mumbling incoherent sentences, lost in a haze; her throat too tight and sore to swallow her own saliva, his digits pushing down on her tongue, drool dripping off her lips.
His teeth sank on her jaw, breathing her in harshly as he kept pumping his fingers at an unrelenting and unforgiving pace, his thumb drawing circles on her clit, hitting a particular spot that only managed to pull the knot inside her tighter and tighter before it finally snapped, sending her into a mind blowing orgasm that made her knees wobble and her eyes roll back. She was lost for a few seconds, that sweet, warm feeling washing over her; her fingers tingling, her arms going numb.
He removed his fingers from both her entrances and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back and connecting their lips, pushing his tongue inside her mouth into a sloppy kiss.
“No one can touch you like this. Only I get to have you, yeah?” he asked in a whisper, as commanding as always, while he nibbled on her bottom lip. “If you behave, maybe you’ll get my cock next time, princess.”
If only he’d settled their disputes like this from the very beginning.
“I fucking hate you,” she said, fighting off the grin that was threatening to appear on her face.
He smirked. So he found her amusing now - good to know.
Request: ( @aleksanderwh0r3 ) hi!! okay so i have an idea/request: so the reader was in a relationship with the darkling until Alina comes and she keeps getting brushed off and the reader gets fed up and decides to leave the little palace and requests she gets stationed near kribrisk or like she goes to ketterdam (what ever you want lol) and Kirigan finds the letter and realizes what he lost it’s gonna be an angsty fic lol
Word count: 4k+ 💀
Darkling x reader
Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (fluff in the end)
Note: Ok so I write on my phone because I’m not allowed my laptop except for school so ignore typos, English isn’t my first language and I havent read the books so yeah it’s a tragedy and I am the cringest person alive
It had been weeks since Alina arrived at the little palace. The infamous sun summoner. Everyone was in awe to her powers, some more than others. The general. It was impossible to even believe that a living sun summoner was present right there, someone who was just a myth. Someone who was just thought of in day dreams of a better future. Y/n herself had a great amount of admiration for Alina. She was the one who warmed her up to the little palace, new surroundings, new people. Alina wasn’t just the sun summoner to her but they had become great friends in less than no time.
The general’s feelings towards Alina seemed obscure. Well to y/n it did. They were couple, him and y/n. They had been one for two years ever since y/n came to the little place after running away from home. Y/n found her home in alecksandar. He was the closest thing she ever felt to comfort or someone she could rely on. Y/n fell first and Alecksandar fell harder. He too felt different around y/n. After all those years of being the general he felt the Alecksandar inside of him when he was around her. Not a day would go by he wouldn’t think of her as people think of the moon. He simply just adored her that much. So did y/n. They would playfully argue on that quite a lot.
But recently things had changed, he would come late to their shared chambers at night and leave early before y/n woke up. They wouldn’t even get time to spend together or talk moreover he wouldn’t make time to spend with her. Y/n didnt mind that, for a few times at least. She has always been understanding of him that’s one of the things he loved about her. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have doubts herself. For the first few weeks y/n found Alina’s company truly joyful. They had some great laughs together she got to know about Alina’s life, where she grew up, how she grew up, her friend Mal she had a lot of stories about. Y/n told her she wished that one day Alina would tell mal stories about her and y/n.
But it was all the calm before the chaos. Soon Alecksandar started accompanying Alina. He told y/n not to tag along with them when he was with Alina which she found really strange but trusted Alecksandar and not for once her mind even had any different thoughts. Which was until these things became a routine. Alecksandar would take Alina riding, spend nights with her chatting, take her to their spot. He barely even acknowledged y/n’s existence. When they were alone for once which wasn’t even what alecksandar planned y/n knew his schedule and barged into the war room during evening to talk to him about how she felt.
“Are you for real y/n? How can you possibly imply that?” He replied to her with an annoyed huff when y/n brought it up.
“I’m not implying anything Alecksandar I’m just simply saying if you were to spend some time with me or at least let me in on what you’re on about with Alina.” Y/n said with a calm tone.
“Oh my extreme apologies—if you can’t already tell I’ve been busy y/n. I’ve a sun summoner on my hands-don’t you think it would rather help if you ought to be supportive?” Alecksandar said with a flat voice and an unironic apology. Y/n felt un heard but she didn’t mean to take the matter further clearly he wasn’t in the mood to listen. This happened several times all of the times he brushed it off sometimes making it clear he’s annoyed with it. Each time y/n would tell herself she still trusts him, he’s the general, he’s busy. But she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep lying to herself or how she actually felt and trying telling that to Alecksandar would only make it worse each time.
There wasn’t much she could take as every moment felt like being stabbed constantly and having to act it didn’t affect her. See him laughing with Alina, empty bedside every night, lonely dinners it’s too much until someone reaches their point. Y/n had reached hers. Alecksandar didn’t seem to care she was present or not. Y/n couldn’t bare that everyday she wanted to leave. Get away. As fas as she can-away from Os altas, little palace, him. All she ever wanted was to be accepted she was a joyful soul who never loathed anything-she used to live and love in superlatives despite spending most of her life feeling like a burden because she was a grisha, her family never approved of her, the small town she grew up in saw her has a disease who could make the other kids like her she was banned from going to school with the others. Her family too saw her as a disappointment for something that wasn’t even under her own control. She taught herself to read and write. Left home at a young age and never looked back. With extreme hustles she got to the little palace and never once felt alone. Training with everyone like herself, not looked down to when she walked in the halls and of course alecksandar. Well up until now. Her spirit was crushed, she was the young y/n back home who was neglected constantly until it reached to an extent to make her run away. Leave. That’s what she felt like doing again.She didn’t mean be loud about it or too sneaky either. She decided to write a note to Alecksandar...like she did the night she ran from her home.
With tear filled in her eyes she wrote...
Alecksandar, you’ve been the light of my
life ever since I left home. Every happy
memory I’ve had and want to hold onto is
the ones I have with you. But I can’t go
back to living a life of being cold
shouldered again. Hope Alina brings you
the happiness I never could.
—wishing you all the fortune
in the wars to come. Y/n.
She folded that note and placed it on the bed. With one last glance back their room she walked away, from their room, the palace but most importantly him.
It took a whole day for alecksandar to realise y/n’s absence. She wasn’t seen at the corridors the whole day nobody spoke about her to him either. Finally in the evening he went to the chambers to find nothing but a not on the bed. Strange. He thought. He read her note. Again and again trying to make sense of the words as he was utterly shocked to believe what he read was true. Was she really gone? Did she just leave like that, leave him? He sat on the edge of the bed trying to maintain his balance as he let that sink in. After a while he was rather annoyed and furious than glum. How could she leave over something that small?
After a week of searching and tracking Ivan found where y/n had been. The whole time alecksandar was worried as well as pissed over the face that y/n bolted away from little palace.
“Miss y/n was found in kribrisk.” Ivan told him in late evening.
“Kribrisk? What’s she doing that far away?”
He asked confused.
“We don’t know sir.”
“Alright then-we ride of kribrisk forthwith.” He said getting up as Ivan left to prepare a wagon for their ride.
The whole ride Alecksandar’s kept thinking about what he’d say, what he’d ask. In his silent self consideration he didn’t realise when they reached.
“Miss y/n is to be two storeys up.” Ivan said stepping out right beside him pointing to the floors of a building at the edge of a bustling alley, which is now silent given it is almost midnight.
“You stay here.” Alecksandar ordered as he walked into the building, climbing the damp flight of stairs to y/n’s floor.
Reaching outside of her he took a deep breath and gave two gentle knocks on the door.
Y/n was still awake. Wide awake in fact. She was alarmed hearing a knock on the door at this hour of the night. She wasn’t sure who could it be? Wether to open or not? Before she could decide that there was another knock. She stood up fixing her night gown and swiftly grabbed a knife out of the apple placed on the table. She held the knife cautiously pointed towards the door before opening it.
Y/n was shocked seeing alecksandar after opening the door she forgot to put down the knife that still pointed to him.
“Alecksandar?” She asked with a confused expression still with the knife in the air pointed to him.
He placed the tip of his finger on the knife softly moving it below, with a slight huff to her attempt of tackling someone with a knife. “Y/n.” He greeted with an awkward nod stepping inside while y/n was still in disbelief why he’d visited. She turned back to put the knife back on the table mostly to not face him.
“A kitchen knife? Really-“ alecksandar chuckled slightly “You do realise that you can light whoever might’ve been behind that door on fire if you wanted to right?” He continued jokingly.
Y/n didn’t seem to appreciate that joke. Neither his presence. “I was sleeping-“
“You don’t look like you were.” He interrupted her in a light voice as though nothing happened between them.
“What do you want? Why are you here?” Y/n said with an irritated expression wanting to get him to leave soon enough.
“I’m wounded.” Alecksandar replied still not in a serious manner.
“Have you come to gloat in the dead of the night?” She responded unafraid of provoking him.
“I’ve come to take you back y/n.” He spoke glancing around the place she had been living in. Y/n’s books all over the place, messy bed with the sheets showing he must’ve been twisting and turning while sleeping, her unfolded clothes forming a pile on the edge of the room, unfinished sketches spread across the table. Back at little palace their shared chambers were just like that when she was with him. Things weren’t the same without her he missed that, her. The room felt three times empty without her.
“I’m not coming back-I don’t want to.” This time y/n was unsure about his reaction, she turned her back on him pretending to go through a random book placed in front of her just to avoid him.
“What do you mean you’re not coming back?” he paused taking a deep sigh causing y/n to be more afraid not to face him. “What are you going to do here?”
“Whatever does it matter.” she responded in a calm tone.
He tried his best not to raise his voice “Do not face away from me-look at me and reply and yes it does matter to me.”
She turned back facing him “Why? Because I’m one of the general’s grishas?”
“It’s more than that-you know it’s more than that.” He said putting emphasis on you.
“Not anymore it’s not, didn’t you read the note I left you?” her heart ached saying those words as she tried her best not to make her voice sound protesting or weak either.
“All—all this because I didn't have the time to entertain your insecurities.” He chuckled dryly running his fingers through his hair out of annoyance.
“Entrain my insecurities?” Y/n paused “Name the last time we had dinner together-no—name the last time we had a conversation that didn’t involve war strategies or Alina.”
“All of the times you’ve had even the slightest doubt about me and Alina because I’ve been busy I reassured you! But you-you are the one who left without saying anything.”
“I was the one who left? Me alecksandar? Every time I came to you talk you just swayed me away into believing that was I was a jealous-obsessive fool—But no-I was the only one trying in our relationship until you made me reach to an extent where I gave up the hopes of finding back the Alecksandar lost inside of the general.” She tried holding back tears as her voice got high pitched.
“If you could just once-stop acting ridiculously and think with your head!” He said furiously slamming his hands on the edge of the table.
Y/n flinched at the sudden loudness in his voice and a thud, making it vulnerable for her to keep arguing without bursting into tears. “D-do not raise your voice at me.” She said softly looking into nothingness on the floor not meeting his eyes.
Sighing heavily he began “Now if you’re done with this charade-can we leave for os alta?”
“I told you I’m not coming back. I won’t.” She wanted to sound firm though her sentence came out like a whisper not so unafraid of his reaction now.
“Y/n—“ he began with a rough tone before she interrupted her.
“No-I can’t—go back to watching you laugh with her each day, garden walks, rides with her, taking her to our spot—whats it going to stop at? I can’t bring myself back into that misery that I ran away from years ago.”
Alecksandar fell silent. He didn’t want to meet her gaze. He gulped in at another silent moment still unable to bring himself to respond to her.
“What?” Y/n asked confused given his reaction 2 minutes ago he’s strangely quite now.
“While you were gone-w-we kissed.” His voice came out strained. Y/n stood in disbelief blinking at him unsure what to feel. She had already let go off him was she supposed to feel sad? Was she supposed to feel angry that they had kissed while she wasn’t even gone a fortnight. “She kissed me, I pulled away—it wasn’t her fault truly-“
he continued in a calm voice though every atom in his body didnt want him to let y/n know of that but his consciousness got the best of him.
“Of course it isn’t her fault!” She cut him off not holding back tears, she didn’t even have control over them anymore. “Sh-shes just as naive as I am!” Y/n said in between sobs softening his look towards her.
“Y/n-“ he began taking a step towards her. “It’s di—“
Y/n took a step backwards shaking her head as tears rushed down her eyes. “Don’t”
“It doesn’t have to be like this.” He said softly as a single drop of tear started forming into his eye.
“Well it is.”
“I realised what I’d lost when I was with her.” he cupped her cheeks trying to get her to look into at him. “I pulled away-I didn’t want that.”
“I don’t know if I can believe anything you say anymore.” Y/n said shakily.
Alecksandar was yet again silent just looking at her watching his hopes of winning her back flow away. Y/n gently placed her hands on top of his swaying it away from her face and looked up at him with teary eyes.
Alecksandar replied with an awkward shake of head. Before he could say anything y/n spoke up “Leave.”
He was shocked to hear that but he didn’t show it, he was aware it would come to this. But it hurt because he didn’t want it to come to this, he didn’t want to leave. Leave her. But he managed to hide his grief on it. He nodded with this eyes flickering everywhere in the room. “If that’s what you want.” Alecksandar said in a hushed tone.
Y/n simply stood there expression less, putting an act that his actions no longer affect her when her heart had broken into a million pieces by now.
He turned away quick and left not looking back. Y/n closed the door behind him as soon as he left and turned back to look at her room feeling every emotion at once. Her room was empty. Once again.
Ivan was confused seeing the general come back alone but his good instincts chose not to ask him about it judging from his body language.
On his way back he kept thinking about everything y/n said, everything he said, everything happened. His thoughts kept circling around how it was over like that, y/n still meant so much to him but he shattered their perfect snow globe of a relationship. Alecksandar blamed y/n for leaving till now, he found her heartless when he got to know that she had left as though she didn’t care about him that she’d overreacted over a misconception. But now he was certain about the mistakes, his mistakes.
He ran his hand through the pocket of his Kefta taking out the letter she had left him. He remembered the letter distinctly. He had read it several times he knew every word yet he wanted to read it again. The last thing from y/n, probably the last thing ever.
He read her letter again he felt every word this time, what mind-state she would’ve written it in.
Alecksandar, you’ve been the light of my
life ever since I left home. Every happy
memory I’ve had and want to hold onto is
the ones I have with you. But I can’t go
back to living a life of being cold shoul-
again. I hope Alina brings you the
happiness I never could.
Cursing himself silently blaming himself for being the one who put her there in the first place. He was stuck after the word “again” what point of her life was she referring to going back to again? His thoughts spiralled trying to figure out what she meant there. Then it struck him. She meant before arriving to little palace. Y/n had told him about her childhood, the town she grew up in, her family who never considered her as one of their own for something she had no control over. He knew that. He knew he was the only one she had ever called her own. He knew she wouldn’t have expected to be neglected from him. Anyone but him. Y/n never opened up about her past much, she wouldn’t bring it up anytime either trying to escape from it. And she had escaped from it. Alecksandar had been her escape her “home” and he was aware of that.
Thinking back to it, he hadn’t just teared their relationship he had smashed her hopes being loved after leaving home. He had to make it right. He couldn’t just leave y/n to blame herself until she’d heal of what he put her through, he cared more than that. “Turn around.” He spoke firmly to the wagon-driver. The driver was confused they were barely by the outskirts yet. “We’re going back, turn around.” His voice was louder and more eager this time. Ivan gave a nudge to the driver to turn around without sparring a moment knowing the general’s temper.
This time Ivan didn’t even gesture to go with him, knowing his answer already and Alecksandar was fast enough to get out of the wagon rushing up the flight of stair even before Ivan could do so.
Reaching to y/n’s floor felt like an eternity to alecksandar. Finally getting there his head of filled with ways he would apologise. He had knocked several time by then. No reply. He could see the dim lights of a rusted bulb hanging from the damp ceiling were still on, on his way up. Figuring y/n didn’t go back to sleep. “Y/n?” He said softly through the locked door. Y/n didn't reply yet again. “Y/n?” he knocked on the door again.
“Go away” a silent voice almost as of a weeping animal came from the other side of the door.
“Y/n i-it’s me, open the door please.” he responded knowing y/n was right behind the door since when she responded her voice seemed to be close.
Y/n hadn’t moved her position ever since alecksandar left. She was crying, sitting on the floor leaning to the door with her hands hugging her knees. It took her a moment to reply through her sobs. “I—told you to go away!” She said frustrated breaking down into tears again.
“I know-I know—just open up once..please Y/n.”
Y/n stood up this time to open the door. She didn’t want to, but she meant to get over with this facade soon. She brushed the tears off her face only to open the door and see his face again resulting in fresh tears dropping uncontrollably.
He was pleased to see her. Same didn't go for her. Looking at y/n crying made him want to throw her arms around her and keep them there until she stopped. And he did. He stepped forward opening his arms as y/n protested for him to stay back. He hovered his hands around her as she kept making useless attempts of punching his chest to push him away.
“Y/n-y/n-little dove-y/n-shh-“ he cooed her name gripping her hands trying to calm her.
She didn’t look at him, didnt want to look at him. She broke into more tears without saying anything and this time he pulled her in close towards him. Closing his eyes for a moment as it felt nice to be around her again. He felt nice to be around her. Y/n didnt hug him back, couldn’t moreover as his large biceps didn’t let her make her way through his back. She gripped to his kefta by his chest giving up on pushing him away as much as she wanted to she couldn’t. With her cries being muffled as she buried her face in the hug he rubbed his hands through the back trying to calm her. Alecksandar wanted this to last forever. He didn’t even want to think about pulling away from her.
Finally y/n made an attempt to break the hug. She wasn’t sure what to say? Why he had come? Before she’d say anything he gripped her wrists gently taking her to the chair in the corner by the table side. He sat her there without saying a word.
Y/n was confused she looked up at him to find him on his knees close enough that his face was almost by her lap. Alecksandar brushed off the last of her tears. Still in silence.
Y/n sniffled drifting away his hand from her face. “Why are you back?”
“For you.” He said without hesitation.
“I would really like for you to not play any games right now.” Y/n said with a dry huff.
“I’m not playing any games with you.” He took her hands in his and looked into her bloodshot eyes “I’ve been horrible to you-and when I came here I was just the same thinking you’re the one in fault, I was upset the days your were gone—“
“Yeah you looked like it.” She interrupted.
“Ah-“ he chuckled slickly. “I deserved that. But when we were headed back I kept thinking about you, I never wanted things to come to this I truly didn’t. Y/n like you said in your letter, you are the light of my life-only you could say such a thing about the shadow summoner. These last few weeks I’ve been the worst to you and I realise that-I’ve felt that all the days you were gone. Our chamber still has so many of your things yet it feels the emptiest one in the whole palace. I—I feel empty, you’re not in it. I don’t want that not one another day-i dont want to wake up and not see you smile, see you laugh at your own silly jokes, tell me about the book you’re reading without sparing any details-it’s been the seventh hell without you. After everything I’ve done you’ve never once held anything against me. I know what you’ve been through and after all that I put you through that I feel terrible about that-Just come back-I will make it up to you, you have my word I will make it up to you—and I understand if you choose not to but I love you y/n, ever since the day I saw you—I coul—“
Y/n leaned in and placed her lips on top of his. He smiled widely into the kiss shortly before kissing her back raising above his knees to look at her.
“I take that as you’re coming back?” He asked in a calm voice.
“Yes! And about earlier I love you too my love.”
Alecksandar grinned widely before kissing her again.
AAAAA HII sorry this took me so look I was procrastinating please lmk in the comments if you like it :))))
Btw I feel like I write too much angst for someone who hasn’t had a heartbreak to relate to Taylor swift’s songs—and also not have an irl crush since 5th grade 🧍♂️
#ngl the only thing i know abt this movie is that ben barnes was in it sdfghqj #and apparently neil gaiman wrote the book #so it has two things going for it #vee! #thank you<3#sabrinas mail #movie rec asks