Days In The Sun

Days in the Sun

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x GN!Reader

Summary: On a warm summer day, you sit on the lawn of the Little Palace with your friends, and become distracted by the sight of the General.

My Masterlist

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The sun casts a comfortable glow over your skin as you run your fingers through the neatly trimmed grass beneath you. Genya had offered you a place next to her on the picnic blanket, but you’ve always loved sitting in the grass on a sunny day. It reminded you of summers in Keramzin, when there was enough daylight for you to spend nearly the entire day outside and avoid the rest of the orphanage.

Nadia turns the page of her book, her brows crinkled with confusion as she reads the words in front of her. She asks a question and Marie attempts to answer her. Nadia has her Advanced Grisha History test coming up, and History has never been a strong point for either of the girls. You can’t suppress the fond smile on your face as they mix up a variety of different events and dates.

Genya lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, and glances over the lawn of the Little Palace to look at the small group attempting to clear some of the trees and bushes near the entrance.

Her eyes are mostly focused on David, as he attempts to explain to Ivan how to use the new garden blades he had designed. With the increasing heat, and the steadily rising afternoon sun, the majority of those working on the gardens have abandoned their keftas in a few small piles dotted around.

A bright smile fills your features as you spot Fedoyr jogging over to you. He’s not wearing his kefta, and his once white shirt is now covered in several smudges of dirt and grass stains. He even has a leaf stuck in his hair.

Fedoyr flops dramatically onto the ground beside you with a heaving sigh. He rests his head in your lap, as the girls around you chorus their greetings to him.

“Having fun?” You ask him with a smile, which he returns with his usual cheery expression.

“A lot more now.” He remarks, lifting his head up to look back across the lawn. You follow his gaze, and see Ivan wiping the sweat from his brow as he talks with David. Ivan’s frown is deeper than usual, so he’s no doubt confused by David’s explanations, which brings a smile to your face.

“Not that I’m eyeing your husband, but I see your point.” You tease with a small laugh, to which Fedoyr grins up at you.

You pick the leaf out of his hair, and Genya asks him how the work is progressing.

“It’s going well so far. It was good of the General to help us out.”

You lift your head up immediately, eyes searching through the group for Aleksander. You’re so busy looking for him, that you miss the look shared between your friends.

Then you spot him.

He’s abandoned both his kefta and tunic, so he’s dressed the same as everyone else. His shirt hangs loose, despite the breeches settled on his shoulders. His hair is messy, as it always is when he’s been running his fingers through it. You watch him lift a large piece of tree trunk onto the back of a nearby cart, and for some reason his strength surprises you.

“Your heart’s beating faster.” Fedoyr observes, and you shoot a sharp look at him. Marie and Nadia giggle at your reaction, and your cheeks feel hot regardless of the summer heat.

Shyly, your gaze returns to Aleksander, only to find him already looking in your direction. Even from this distance, you can see the corner of his lips quirk in a smile. Fedoyr raises a brow at you, no doubt in reaction to the flutter of your heart, as Aleksander begins to approach your group.

Everyone greets him politely as he stands in front of you all. He asks Nadia about her studying, and Marie about her extra combat sessions. He talks to Genya about her upcoming trip to Balakirev, and tells Fedoyr that his other half was wanting him, to which Fedoyr sits up from his position in your lap.

Then Aleksander’s eyes settle on you, and he says your name softly.

“I’m taking a walk around the lake. Would you care to join me?”

“I’d love to.”

You smile at your friends, before taking Aleksander’s arm and heading along the path that leads to the lake. Your group continues to watch the two of you for a long moment.

“Have they admitted it yet?” Nadia asks. Marie looks at her with a small frown,

“Admitted what?”

“That they’re in love with each other.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

Genya shakes her head,

“We would know if they had.” To which Fedoyr nods in agreeement.

“It will happen soon enough. Just look at them.”

Genya hums as the rest of them watch you, tucked into Aleksander’s side despite the heat. Even from such a distance, they can all see how relaxed their General seems, with a wide smile on his face as he looks at you.

“Almost as bad as you and Ivan.” She teases, and it’s Fedoyr’s turn to blush.

Marie sighs, resting her chin on her knees as she watches you and the General as you near the lake, and she admires the romantic silhouette the two of you make.

Caught Red-Handed

Hi! I am answering two similar requests that were sent my way a few weeks ago. Anons requested that Ben and Reader would get caught while making out by the Shadow and Bone cast.

The fic was a little short when I wrote only what you had requested, so I’ve added a cute domestic scene at the beginning. I hope you don’t mind!

Thank you for all your sweet messages anon, they made me very happy!!! I hope you like this piece I wrote for you! Tell me what you think about it :)

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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warning: fluff, tooth-rooting fluff even, some making out but no nsfw content

Summary: You and Ben are happy to be reunited when you come visit him on set in Budapest, while he’s shooting Shadow and Bone. Maybe, you’re even a little too happy, and you get caught by the cast being a little too… passionate.

Word Count: 2882

There is something awfully lovely about mornings.

Or, to be more precise… there was something awfully lovely about this particular morning.

It wasn’t about the scenery, though. It wasn’t about the young sun coming up, still shy and yet already promising a warm day; nor was it about the glistening rooftops of Budapest. It wasn’t about the delicate light coming in your bedroom that painted the walls golden, and it wasn’t about the beautiful architecture of the town.

It wasn’t about the hour either. It was barely 6 am. You could have wished for a little more rest. The covers were warm and soft on your skin, the mattress comfortable, you could have been reluctant to get up. You could have played the infamous five-more-minutes game. No, it wasn’t about all of this.

Actually, it was about that smell of coffee that filled the apartment. It was about the soft humming you could hear, coming from the kitchen, in a deep and warm voice. It was about the quiet rummaging, the scraping of a spoon against glass, and the rhythmic hit of a knife against a plate. You smiled before opening your eyes.

It was about the man who was preparing breakfast for the two of you.

You let out a yawn before finally opening your eyes. His side of the bed was empty already, but it was alright. You knew he was there. You could hear him in the kitchen.

You still let your hand roam across the empty space by your side, out of habits. After two months being separated by thousands of miles, it was normal to feel like all this was a dream.

It wasn’t though. You truly were in Hungary, you had arrived the previous evening. Ben had come to pick you up at the airport despite his busy schedule. Shooting a Netflix TV show was, after all, a lot of work. Still, he took time to be with you. He always did…

You had flown across the world to join him on the set of Shadow and Bone, and would stay for a couple of weeks. These were your vacations, and you couldn’t be more satisfied about them.

You picked up some clothes on your way out of the room, and soon headed to the kitchen to find Ben cutting fruits and preparing toasts, a warm cup of coffee by his side on the counter. He kept on humming and swaying as he cut an apple in slices, setting the pieces in two different plates. You noticed that he was wearing his earphones, thus not noticing you as you approached. It gave you a moment to lean against the doorframe, and enjoy the sight of your boyfriend standing there, in the kitchen bathed in early-morning light. He was wearing his sweatpants but no shirt or t-shirt, and you took your time to admire his back and shoulders, study the muscles of his arms moving with each fall and rise of the knife. You took in the sight of his dishevelled hair, and his naked feet, and the pure intimacy of the scene. There was something gentle in this domestic moment, outrageously simple, and you reckoned that was what made it all beautiful.

He was surprised when you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your chest against his naked back and dropping a kiss on his shoulder.

He winced, taking off his earbuds.

“Your hands are freezing!” he cried with a laugh.

You pulled away a little, unfolding your arms so your hands wouldn’t touch his chest anymore.

“Sorry,” you apologized with a bright smile and a small voice.

But Ben was merely laughing, and he took one of your hands in his.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He brought your hand against his lips to drop a sweet kiss on your knuckles. But when you touched him with your free hand again, he jumped and pulled away completely, fleeing.

“Ha! No, okay… I do mind. I do mind, you’re too cold. That shouldn’t be allowed, at this point,” he protested, laughing more than ever.

You were struggling not to laugh as well, and tried to pout instead.

“I can’t even touch you!” you protested.

He handed you your cup of coffee as an answer. You were finally facing him, and you noticed the dark bags under his eyes, the way his eyelids fell more than usual on his black eyes. He was not fully awake yet. But then, he didn’t seem to have taken a shower for now, which explained his drowsy look.

“Warm your icy fingers first. Then you can touch me all you want, but no more ice cubes!”

You accepted the cup of coffee, the warm porcelain burning your skin. You let Ben stand before the counter again, before teasing him.

“I can touch you… all I want?” you asked with a flirtatious smile, bumping your hip into his.

You saw his cheeks reddening, and the way he was biting back a large grin. He picked up the knife again, and resumed his cutting.

“Now… that could be arranged.”

You let out a giggle, before kissing his cheek. He turned to kiss your lips.

“But not before tonight. No time for shenanigans this morning.”

“Really?” you pouted again.

“Don’t give me that look,” he chuckled, trying to ignore you, but miserably failing to do so. “We just have time to eat some breakfast, get a shower, and then we are needed on set. Or well… I am needed on set. You’ll just spend your day distracting me.”

“A shower?”

“Don’t. Start. Besides… I thought last night was enough to get us through at least twelve hours without you giving me that look again.”

It was your time to shy away, and Ben’s turn to smile contently as he tortured you.

“Right… you’re right.”

“Now, I’ve made breakfast. Let’s hurry! Besides, everyone is asking about you, and when you’re joining us on set, and they keep on repeating how they miss you… bla bla bla,” he pulled a ridiculous face, full of disgust, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ha yes… that must be so annoying that your colleagues love me more than they love you,” you chimed, and Ben gave you his best villain stare.

“I do not find it funny.”

But it made you laugh even more, and he broke out of character in a mere second.

You took another sip of coffee while Ben was wiping his hands and putting the knife down on the table. You tentatively touch his arm with just the tip of one of your fingers.

“Too cold still?” you asked, making your voice shy.

Ben shook his head, his smile still on his lips.

“No, it’s fine now.”

“YEEEEEES!” you cried, rushing to hug him and almost tackling him to the ground. He was back at laughing like crazy.

You held him tightly, releasing him just for a second so he could get comfortable and wrap his arms around you as well.

“Thank you for making breakfast,” you mumbled against the skin of his bare shoulder.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

He dropped a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered, holding you tight.

You smiled, pressing your cheek harder against his shoulder blade.

“Me too. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Or well… actually, I’ve missed your shirts. Like this one I’m wearing… they’re very comfy.”

“I hate you…”

“Y/N!”

Three steps.

You only needed to take three steps on set for everyone to be aware of your presence, apparently. You could thank Jessie and her happy cry for that.

She rushed to hug you, and you welcomed her embrace with a bright laugh.

“Hi! It’s so good to see you!”

“Ben kept you away from us for way too long!” Kit added, giving you a hug as well.

“I did not!” Ben defended himself. “She’s the one who didn’t want to see any of you.”

“Now, we know that’s not true!” Jessie replied, sticking out her tongue.

“I was just busy with work,” you explained. “I couldn’t go on vacation before now.”

“Excuses, excuses…” Freddy shook his head.

It was strange to see everyone in full costume again. You spent your morning chatting with your friends, depending on who was waiting for a scene. Ben left you with the Crows to get ready, and you didn’t see him again before lunchtime. Or well, you did see him when you watched him from afar while he was working on a scene but you remained unnoticed, to avoid bothering him.

He fell on a chair by your side for lunch, heaving a tired sigh. It was a merry time, full of laughs and joy and stupid jokes. Jessie took several pictures of you and Ben, and you looked at them fondly on your phone after she shared them with the whole group. Ben leaned closer to look at the screen too.

“You look adorable,” he admitted as he stared at your bright smile.

“I’m not sure how I feel about these scars of yours though,” you teased, pointing at the large marks that had been added across his face.

“It’s to show how much of a bad guy I am. I am tough. Tough guys have scars, you know?”

“Sure,” you laughed. “The Darkling, for sure, is a very bad guy. You, on the other hand, are probably the cutest person I’ve ever met. You’re the opposite of a bad boy.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh, shaking his head slightly as he stared at nothing.

“And then… all my sex-appeal was gone for good…”

You laughed at him, and the mere sound brought a smile to his lips, the kinds he couldn’t refrain.

“I wouldn’t say that, now. We still have some plans for tonight, remember?”

“Plans? Us?”

You looked around quickly, but no one was paying attention to your conversation with Ben. You leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

“You did promise that I would touch you all I want…”

Despite his make-up, you saw his ears and cheeks redden fiercely.

“True… I won’t have the scars anymore by then though. I won’t look like a bad boy anymore.”

“I’ve always preferred kind souls, anyway,” you replied with a grin, before you would drop a peck on his lips.

You rested your head on his shoulder while you listened to Danielle and Amita chat happily, and were disappointed when it was time for him to go back to work.

You walked with him across the main building, hand in hand, accompanying him to the set. He rubbed circles against the back of your hand, the gesture tender and soothing. It was quiet in this corridor, everyone either finishing their lunch or going on set as well. People were busy. Meanwhile, you took slow steps while Ben was rambling about some movie he had watched that week. You forgot for a moment where you were: in a foreign country, in a building you didn’t know, where people created fantastic worlds out of their imagination. Only when you looked at Ben and saw him in full costume, with dark marks across his face, did you remember that he was at work. It was strange, really… the way he always made you forget everything else in the world whenever he was near.

“You’re alright?” he asked with a frown. “Am I being boring?”

“No, of course not. I’m sorry, I was just… thinking.”

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“It’s just… I’m just happy you’re here.”

Ben offered you a tender smile, slowing down his steps until the two of you came to a stop. The corridor was empty, silent. You could hear the distant whisper of busy rooms, but the air around you was still. Ben raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing tender patterns across your warm skin.

“I’m happy you’re here too. Even if… you’ve abandoned me all morning.”

You laughed at his teasing, and he did the same.

“Now… again… it’s not my fault if I’m everyone’s favourite!”

“I highly doubt you are, darling. But if it makes you happy…”

You stuck out your tongue.

“I can assure you though that you are someone’s favourite,” Ben added through a chuckle, “if not everyone’s.”

“Whose?”

He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him.

“You are my favourite.”

You let out a bright laugh.

“Considering that I’m your girlfriend… I do hope so.”

“It was a tough competition though…”

“Do you really want to sleep on the couch tonight, my love?”

He rested his forehead against yours as he laughed.

“What about that plan of yours, huh? I thought you had planned some very sinful activities…”

He bumped his nose against yours a couple of times, until it would make you smile.

“Well… for now all I have are plans. Nothing more.”

He hummed, and you closed your eyes. Because you could feel the way he held you tighter against him, the way his fingers were caressing your cheek, his thumb travelling downwards to brush your upper lip. You were so close, your two breaths mingled in the small space between your faces. Your heart had sped up, and so had his.

“We both know those plans will happen though,” he assured you.

“Really?”

But he didn’t answer; he merely closed the gap between your mouths, and you wouldn’t have been able to find any argument against these plans of yours as he did so.

You kissed for a long time, your fingers lost in his hair despite the fact that he was needed on set. And the more time passed by, the more heated your kiss became… lips against lips dancing together, capturing, grabbing, pulling, crashing…

When his lips left your bruised ones to travel down to your neck, you had forgotten how to breathe altogether. He left a trail of goosebumps in his wake as he dropped warm, hungry open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, all the way to that sensitive spot at the birth of your shoulder. He slipped his hand under your shirt, warm fingers running across your back until he teasingly moved his hand to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing the soft skin. You couldn’t refrain a gasp as his fingers grazed the edge of your bra, and you held tightly on his shoulders for balance, your knees suddenly feeling dangerously weak…

You were, however, in the middle of a corridor, and you were well aware that things couldn’t go further than that. So, you held his face in your palms, pulling him away just enough to kiss him again…

… until you heard some shocked cries from the end of the corridor.

You broke away just enough to see Archie, Freddy, Amita, Kit and Jessie all shouting dramatically and covering their eyes.

“How disgusting!” Archie shouted.

“My eyes! My eyes!” Jessie added.

And all of them added their own cry of despair. Ben rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw in an annoyed gesture that remained filled with fondness. Meanwhile, you were giggling uncontrollably, burying your face in his shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Ben called, struggling not to laugh, and blushing profusely.

“Can we look now? Have you stopped?” Amita asked, peeking through her fingers.

“They make rooms for that kind of stuff, you know?!” Kit exclaimed.

But soon they were unable to refrain their laughter, Jessie being the first to break out of character.

“Alright, alright… let’s go back to work,” Ben replied, shaking his head playfully while you finally broke your embrace and put a step between you and your boyfriend.

“You might need to go back to get your hair done before going back though, mate,” Archie teased, pointing at Ben’s hair that you had, indeed, turned into a proper mess of dark locks.

It made all of you laugh, but Ben could hardly deny that it was more than necessary.

“All of you are just jealous I have the most wonderful woman on Earth just for myself,” he replied, as your friends started to walk towards the two of you again.

“Absolutely not. We just found your PDAs insufferable,” Freddy replied.

“Really?” Ben asked back, rising an eyebrow.

He looked at you with such a mischievous glint in his dark eyes, you knew he meant trouble…

“Kids, these days… they’re a little prude, aren’t they?” he teased his friends, nodding towards them while still staring at you, making them all laugh and exclaim various excuses and arguments to defend themselves.

“You’re right… but they’re young, that’s why,” you nodded. “They still have much to learn…”

“Why don’t we traumatize them some more, then?” he offered, closing the space between the two of you again.

He wore this shit-eating grin again, and his dark eyes glimmered with mischief and something dangerous…

You nodded.

“Yes, we should…”

You were interrupted by a pair of familiar lips against yours, as he held your face in both his hands…

His castmates started their shenanigans again, but you merely smiled into the kiss this time, unwilling to pull away.

After all… you liked it when Ben was full of this kind of mischief…

It's hard to explain the guilt that being an imperfect daughter gives you. You don't necessarily want to change yourself, you know who you are or know maybe what you are and it's closer to this then what your mother wants of you, but you wish you could be different, you wish you were a version of yourself that would be kinder and more comforting for your mother, who she could talk sweetly about with her friends rather then forcing her to be the mother with That Daughter.

But it's what you are. And she still loves you, you know that, for all you are. But maybe you both wish you could be less you and more a daughter.

Stockings and snogging (1.3k)

summary: you land into detention with james, spending more time arguing and eventually snogging than doing actual work

warnings: making out

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

a/n: the holidays can't come soon enough so here's a little thang, wrote this on the car so not proofread. a thank u fic for 200 <3

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"No. No, Potter you're hanging it up all wrong." You groan, your eyes rolling as naturally as ever. James Potter seemed to be pissing you off so much, this day especially

It wasn't until your fifth period did you finally go all out on him. Shouting at his face and attracting the faces of so many students. Then you got detention, easy as that. It helped only a little that James did too considering you both were taking detention together.

Since December rolled around pretty quickly and the professors didn't need any help with cleaning their equipments— Slughorn had the perfect punishment. He was pretty angry at how the both of you made a scene in his class. So you expected him to give this stupid punishment anyway.

Every start of December for the students who did celebrate Christmas, were allowed to hand in a stocking with their name on it. The stocking would be hanged above the fireplace by Filch, and by the end of the month you'd get some sweets inside or any other things your friends got you.

It was a nice tradition, it made some people feel at home with the nice touch. So instead of Filch doing it himself, Slughorn had opted that both you and James would help with the ones in the Gryffindor common room.

So that was how you and James came to the common room, all bloody sweaty after Potions class— with two boxes full of stockings from Christmas celebrating Gryffindors.

"I'm not hanging it up wrongly! You can't hang a fucking stocking wrongly!" He said loudly, causing you to roll your eyes yet again and slump against the couch.

You were exhausted after nearly an hour of being at it with James. And you've only just hung about 10 or so stockings, the similar names and different designs hanged beautifully far up above the fireplace.

"Oh please. Look at mine, it's all straight and arranged according to years. You've just put a fifth year and a second year's stocking on the same string!" You shot back, throwing a red stocking at him.

James scoffs, "What does it matter if I put a fifth year and a second year in the same string?" He asked you harshly leaning his body tiredly against the wall.

"Well, it's obvious that a second year can't reach that high up on the fireplace!" You said, as if it was bloody obvious to James.

"Merlin. I can't do this anymore." He paused, his eyes blown by his bewildered expression. James snatches the stocking in his hand, pointing it at you angrily. "You think you're so good at everything, Y/l/n! Guess what? I'm fucking done with this. If you want to arrange all this shit by year— so be it! Do it yourself!" He said, his voice loud but not shouting.

"Oh yeah?," You taunted him while getting up from the couch and approaching him slowly, making sure you didn't step on any of the red stockings scattered all over the floor. "Well go on then! I'll tell Slughorn you didn't do shit and he'll probably believe me knowing your track record." You said snarkily, your face already red from all the shouting.

James throws the stocking on the floor, "My track record?" He asks angrily, "Yeah, well I'll tell him how you stole ingredients from his personal cupboards last week!" He threatened.

Oh, he wanted to play this game with you. "That was for an important concoction, you arsehole! I wouldn't steal if it wasn't absolutely necessary!" At this moment, the both of you were already so red faced and heated.

"So what? If the evidence gets you a month's detention, I'm happy to do it." He says, his face leaning down to face you. James is incredibly close now that you can feel his hot breath on your face.

"You wouldn't dare." You state, your fingers shooting up toward his chest and shoving him back to the wall. James didn't have enough time to get a grip on anything near, so he just ended up slump against the wall. And with you so close, practically hovering below him, your hands still on his chest.

"Well then watch—" James started, before he was rudely and in fact, quite harshly interrupted by you.

But just in a mere second, the energy from the both of you changes. One second you're shoving him angrily against the wall, the next you're kissing him roughly against it. You didn't know what happened. Or what came over you that caused you to crash your lips on James Potter's.

All you knew was that it was wrong. It was so so wrong. If any of your friends came down at this second, they would see the girl who not only hates James Potter with a passion is kissing him but also the one who's doing it and enjoying it.

James groans, right there on your mouth thats kissing him so passionately. He tries to say something, but it comes out sounding so raspy that your stomach flutters with a new feeling. Your hands reach behind him to play play his hair. James was someone you weren't particularly fond of, yes. But his hair was something else, you always wondered how soft it was. Or how it felt. And now you were twirling a curl around your finger, scratching his scalp with your nails. And you weirdly didn't want to stop.

Never in the seven years that you've known James had you thought of him in this position. Your lips weren't leaving each other, even though the both of you were probably running out of breath anyway. But maybe it was because none of you wanted to face each other after such an intense kiss.

You decided then that even if you didn't ever want James to see you after being so intimate with him, you also didn't want to die by lack of oxygen because of him. He'd have too much power, but you pulled away eventually.

When you part, James settles his head back on the wall and looks up the ceiling as if he couldn't believe what just happened. You look up at him, at his soft jawline, his eyes blown. You admire him like it's the first time you meet and you've just now noticed how handsome he is. James finally speaks up, "What ... what the fuck was that?" He asks you so bluntly. So unfiltered that you aren't sure whether he's angry or flattered.

"I'm not sure." You say, not wanting to move from your place that's holding him back from fleeing in panic. You extend your arm toward his cheek boldly, "But I liked it. And I know you do too, Potter. Don't lie." You tell him, although James stays silent— his eyes still looking up and avoiding your gaze.

Your lips tingle when you think of the kiss again. "I mean ... we were literally shouting at each other and you kissed me." He breathed out a heavy sigh.

"... But you liked it ...?" You ask anyway, desperate to know how he feels right now. James doesn't answer for a second, his face still upturned. Now you don't like this, so you grab his face in your hands and pull it down to meet your eyes. "Could you answer me? I'm sorry if I just kissed you so randomly like that. I swear I am." You tell him. James seems slightly taken aback at your genuine apology.

"I liked it."

When you hear him say those words, you pull his head down even further to meet your lips again. And you, hungry for another taste of his lips, push him back against the wall again. This happens for a while until you run out of breath, catch a breath, and do it again. Both of you can't stop, already addicted to the feeling of lips colliding and breaths panting.

Eventually though, James laughs and tells you that this is supposed to be detention. So you roll your eyes and back away to sit back on the couch you were on before.

This time, without you needing to shout it to him, James digs the boxes for the names of the sixth year students' stockings. You laugh and help him string the stockings far up the fireplace.

—@ wrathspoet

general taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux

james potter: @rqmanoff

marauders: @risingtripletaurus /send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

Retribution

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Sun Summoner!Reader

Summary: When you claim the final amplifier, everything begins to fall apart. The Fold collapses, you lose your power, and Aleksander is rumoured to be dead.

Warnings: canon level violence, poor treatment of prisoner (Aleksander), mentions of death, wasting sickness.

A/N: a very quick fic that I wrote within a couple of hours so sorry if it doesn’t make much sense

My Masterlist

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Mal’s blood has dried on your skin. Even as Fedoyr begins to scrub at it, the redness lingers in the grooves of your fingertips and the lines on the flat of your palms.

A tear traces its way down your cheek and drops down into the bath water you’re sitting in. Fedoyr shares a look with Genya, who’s sitting opposite him on the other side of the bath tub.

Their interaction goes unnoticed by you, gazing off into the distance as the events of the day continue to wreak havoc on your emotions.

The loss of your power, even if it was only for a few minutes, had shaken you to your core.

When you had killed Mal, your power had disappeared, leaving a gaping hole inside you. The look on Aleksander’s face as he realised what had happened, that your power was gone, brings more tears to your eyes.

He had been devastated. You know it. He had felt your pain - the loss of the part of you that ran deeper than your soul.

Frantically, you had carved out Mal’s bones, demanding for a fabrikator to create another amplifier. Aleksander had knelt down beside you, helping you hold the pieces around your wrist as David fixed them into place.

All around you, the Fold was collapsing, destroyed by the involuntary blaze of light that had burst from your body when your knife sunk into Mal’s chest.

The stag’s antlers and the sea whip’s scales were still intact, and you could see the hope on Aleksander’s face. That expression had faded quickly when the sound of enemy soldiers approaching reached his ears.

Mind fogging from the shock and fear, you could barely understand what was happening, but you can still remember Aleksander’s final order.

“Ivan, get them out of here.”

You heard the message hidden underneath. Of course, Aleksander would always protect his people, but you were his priority. He wanted you away from the fighting, especially in the state you were in.

Fedoyr had helped you up off the dark sand of the Unsea and when you had struggled against him, trying to help Aleksander, Ivan had put you to sleep and carried you away.

Back in the safety of your camp, the news of the Darkling’s death reaches you not long after you wake. For hours you had sat on the floor, back tucked against the bed you had shared with Aleksander only two nights ago.

Several hours later, Genya came to check on you, which led to her and Fedoyr guiding you into the bath. They had used Aleksander’s soap, which helps to ground you but the smell makes your chest sting with anguish.

Aleksander is gone.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander is cold.

His muscles ache and there’s a stiffness in his bones that urges him to move and ease the discomfort.

A cough rattles at his lungs as he takes a shaking breath, and a vial of liquid is pressed against his lips. Too weak to worry about whatever it is sliding down his throat, he drinks eagerly.

It’s warm and soothing with an underlying sweetness. It reminds him of sunlight. It reminds him of you.

Then he remembers the knife in his chest, the heat of the blood spilling out of him, stealing away the warmth from his body as he lay still on the ground with the boy prince standing over him with wicked grin. Prince Nikolai.

Aleksander blinks and he’s relieved to find himself in semidarkness. Dark stone walls surround him on three sides, with metal bars and a padlocked door making up the last wall.

Had he died? It had felt like dying when he was bleeding out. But then how was he still here? And where exactly was he? Where were you? Had Ivan taken you back to the camp? Are you safe? Had your powers returned?

There’s a hollowness in Aleksander’s chest when he attempts to reach for you through the tether.

As he realises he isn’t alone, Aleksander also realises he’s too weak to sit up let alone fight. Luckily the young man sitting beside him doesn’t look like he’s going to be posing a threat.

The boy introduces himself as Yuri and begins to explain everything.

Aleksander had been dead for almost a minute, revived by healers on the Queen’s orders. That had confused Aleksander - why would the Queen want him alive? Then Yuri tells him that King Nikolai and Queen Zoya now rule over Ravka and intended on keeping Aleksander as their prisoner to pay for his crimes.

As the days pass by, Aleksander regains some of his strength. He’s able to sit up and walk a little by himself, though there isn’t much room in his cell. His hands are bound, preventing him from summoning, though he fears his near-death experience had stole his power from him.

He has two meagre meals a day - usually cold porridge and either the dregs of a broth or leftover soup. Being unable to summon means that his meals are beginning to lose their taste, as the wasting sickness settles in.

There’s short periods of time where Yuri doesn’t visit him, but the boy keeps him updated on the outside world.

Aleksander learns that you’re still alive, gathering support for the rebellion against the Ravkan Crown.

Plenty of Grisha stand beside you, as well as followers of the Sun Saint. Yuri mentions that Aleksander also has his own followers that had joined you - claiming their loyalty to the martyred Starless Saint.

There’s an ache in his chest as he thinks of you fighting this war alone. Aleksander has been fighting alone for centuries and he hates the thought of not being by your side as you stand against the regime. He also hates the thought of you mourning him.

»»---------------------►

“How is he doing?”

Yuri looks down for a moment as he considers your question, studying the grooves of the wooden table that sits in the centre of your war tent.

“Well enough.”

You raise a brow.

“But?”

“There’s been talk by the Queen, of revealing the Starless One’s imprisonment and making a public example of him.”

It’s still strange, hearing one of Aleksander’s followers refer to him as the Starless One, but at present your focus remains on the concern in the young man’s eyes.

“How?”

“Keeping him bound in the throne room during court days for all the people to see.”

The muscle in your jaw twinges as anger flares in your chest.

“Thank you for your report, Yuri. I expect to see you here the same time next month. That will be all.”

He bows deeply before he leaves the tent.

Humiliation on behalf of Aleksander prickles over your skin, and you run a hand over your hair, adjusting your black and gold kefta as you pace beside the table.

“She’s trying to provoke you into attacking,” Ivan warns you. Tension seizes your shoulders as you nod.

“I know.”

In the presence of only your most trusted Grisha, you slump down onto Aleksander’s chair by the war table, fiddling with one of the markers that represents your troops in the south.

“I’m scared of waiting too long, every day he isn’t summoning his condition will worsen.”

Fedoyr nods in understanding as he takes the seat beside you.

“The General is strong. You yourself lived with the wasting sickness for years.”

“And it was hell.”

“But you’re still alive, yes?”

You hum in reluctant agreement, running a hand over your face before you manage to pull yourself together. Sitting up properly, you straighten your shoulders and look over the maps in front of you.

“Shall we run through our plan for Wednesday’s attack?”

»»---------------------►

Aleksander’s knees hurt.

The marble floor of the throne room is hard and unrelenting against the tender skin of his bony knees. With his limited meals, all his bones seemed sharper, making contact with anything more painful then usual.

Yuri is the one to bring him his meals and he can see the empathy in the young man’s eyes but Aleksander understands that he isn’t in any sort of position to help him. He’s kind enough to provide him with some pleasant company during the evenings when the throne room is empty.

During the mornings, Nikolai and Zoya conduct their meetings in the throne room. At first, Aleksander had hoarded any information he could pick up from these meetings and attempt to figure out what everyone’s next move would be.

Now that every day is accompanied by a fierce headache, he tunes out the majority of their voices. The only thing that captures his attention is the mention of your name. It reminds him that you’re still out there, fighting for your shared cause.

In the afternoon, the throne room is open to selected members of the public, allowing them to bring their concerns to their beloved monarchs to assist in solving. The first time this had happened Aleksander held a tiny glimmer of hope in his chest, that someone might try to help him. That hope was long gone now.

He keeps his head down during those long hours, sweat running down his back at the intense heat of so many people crammed into the room. The heat doesn’t help with his headaches.

Night is the only time he receives any semblance of comfort. The marble beneath him chills his burning skin and he presses his forehead against the floor in an attempt to soothe the throbbing in his skull.

His sleep is fitful, the hard floor making every angle he tries more painful than the last.

Aleksander aches for the comfort of your arms, falling asleep safe in a plush bed, your sunlight glowing close by so that he doesn’t have to sleep in the dark.

The next morning Aleksander wakes with the sun rising.

Yuri brings him some lukewarm porridge that he struggles to eat more than three mouthfuls of. He nods gratefully at the young man, offering him a weak smile when he sees the uneasiness in his eyes.

Then the doors open and Yuri hurries away.

Zoya and Nikolai take their seats on the throne and the people arrive for the monthly court day, where the any member of the public could speak to the monarchs.

Aleksander keeps his head down as usual, not wanting to look at any of them. Then Yuri appears by his side. He frowns but the boy doesn’t react at all, his gaze bouncing anxiously over the crowd.

Curiosity piqued, Aleksander lifts his gaze to look over the sea of faces. He’s surprised by how many there are. There’s a huge variety of people: nobles, peasants, farmers, some Grisha that he doesn’t recognise.

Then he spots a familiar face.

Fedoyr.

He catches the heartrender’s gaze and Aleksander’s heart stops. Are you here? Have you come for him?

King Nikolai’s words echo slightly as they bounce over the ornate ceiling above.

“We welcome criticism and encourage our people to share there concerns. It is the only way that Ravka can truly prosper.”

At that, a voice rings out over the crowd.

“If our beloved Queen is Grisha, why are we still considered property of the Crown?”

Aleksander’s stomach flips at the sound of your voice. The crowd parts as you walk forwards, lowering the hood of your dark cloak and regarding the man on the dais with a look of disgust.

“Why is the man who has been fighting for this country for longer than any of you have been alive, suffering an unjust imprisonment?”

“Aside from the regicide?” Nikolai snaps, looking down at you as he stands from his throne. You shrug lightly.

“Alleged regicide.”

His face twists with fury.

“Guards!”

A small smirk tugs at your lips.

“Oh that won’t work. It appears I’ve failed to mention that this is coup.”

Over half the crowd discard their robes and cloaks, revealing keftas or dark uniforms decorated with the symbol of the sun.

Aleksander can’t take his eyes from you as you drop your cloak, revealing the black and gold kefta that you had refused when you first arrived at the Little Palace.

»»---------------------►

Heart pounding, you keep your head held high with confidence in your eyes. A few royalists put up a fight for their monarchs, and your people step into action. Tactically you are at an advantage over them both, but they have Aleksander.

He looks thin and tired, but there’s hope sparkling in his eyes that eases some of the tension evident in his body. Everything inside you wants to curl your arms around him and keep him safe from the rest of the world.

Zoya seems to follow your line of thought, striding down from the dais towards Aleksander. Pulling a dagger from her belt, she grasps a fistful of his hair, bearing his throat and holding the blade against his pulse.

Panic fills you.

Bending the light around your body, you disappear from view as you rush towards Nikolai. Grabbing his hair, you tug back hard, summoning a sliver of light to rest against his throat, mirroring Zoya’s threat on Aleksander.

At the sudden reappearance of your body, Zoya’s eyes widen.

“You take mine, I take yours,” you snarl at her.

Just as you expected, Zoya releases Aleksander and steps forward, intending on fighting you herself.

Instantly, you bend the light around Aleksander, keeping him invisible from Zoya’s angle but hopefully Yuri will be able to find him and unlock his shackles.

Zoya gestures backwards with her dagger.

“If you harm a hair on his head, I will take his head clean off.”

A smirk flickers over your features, nodding in the direction of where Aleksander had been.

“Good luck with that.”

She turns backwards, a frown on her face. When she realises Aleksander is gone she turns back towards you.

At that moment, you slide your blade of light against Nikolai’s throat, releasing your hold on him.

He crumples to the floor, blood pooling around his body as he twitches. Zoya’s eyes widen, her lips parted in distress as he dies before she can even begin to reach for him.

As her shock turns to horror you become invisible once again, allowing you to step away as her anger takes over. You move towards Yuri, who’s only just managed to unlock the shackles around Aleksander’s wrists.

Aleksander looks at you in surprise as you materialise in front of him. He winces as the shackles fall and he rubs the red marks on his wrists. There’s nothing you want more than to kiss them better.

Instead you step closer and ask him.

“Can you stand?”

He nods, attempting to stand until his legs give way and he grasps onto your waist to steady himself. You grip onto him tightly, hating how fragile he feels in your arms.

“Ana!” you call out.

The healer in question hurries over, immediately getting to work on healing the worst of Aleksander’s ailments so that he can be taken to safety.

His gaze is slightly unfocused as he cups your face in his hand, for a moment you allow yourself to enjoy his tender touch.

“You came for me,” he rasps.

“Of course I did.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Zoya sneers.

Aleksander sees your eyes darken as you turn in her direction, and you only let go of him once you know the healer can hold his weight.

Then you step towards her.

You’re reminded of your first training session at the Little Palace, when Zoya had humiliated you in front of everyone, before she used her powers to knock you out when you had managed to gain the upper hand.

Her face twists with unrestrained fury, but you’ve been furious from the moment you woke up without Aleksander. That anger has been festering under your skin, burning through your body with every report from Yuri.

She throws a punch at you, which you dodge swiftly and continue to advance towards her. Throwing your own punch, you manage to graze her cheekbone as she also dodges.

She weaves away from you, throwing punch after punch that you deflect. Casting her hand out, wind rushes against Aleksander, knocking his weak legs out from under him. She smirks.

Outrage floods through your body, and you barrel into her with enough force to send you both sprawling over the hard marble floor. You scramble against one another, throwing uncoordinated punches and kicking your legs wildly.

She hits you square in the face and you feel your lip split. Pinning her down between your legs, you grasp hold of her hair and slam her head down onto the floor - once, twice, three times.

When she tugs her head free her movements are sluggish and disorientated as she writhes beneath you. Your fingers lock around her throat, unrelenting even when she scratches at your face and neck. Her nails dig into the still healing scar on your chin and you hiss in pain.

She bats weakly at you, but you hold strong, pushing all your weight into stopping her airflow. Even when she goes still, you squeeze harder. After a long moment, you release her and slump weakly down on the floor.

Exhaustion fills you. Now that the fighting is over you realise how much everything aches.

Lifting your head up, you spot Aleksander sitting on some steps as Ana the healer tends to him. He winces, shifting uncomfortably as her hands hover over his skin.

His eyes meet yours and instantly you’re standing and making your way over to him.

The healer steps back, allowing you a moment together. Aleksander curls an arm around your waist pulling your body flush against his. He buries his face into your chest, breathing in deeply.

His entire body relaxes as you sink your fingers into his hair. The locks are a little matted, and you know the length of his hair will be bothering him. He tilts his head back, lifting his gaze to find your eyes.

Leaning down, you press your lips against his, uncaring towards anyone who might be looking. He smiles into the kiss, a sigh of relief heaving at his shoulders as you brush your thumb over his cheek.

Then Fedoyr’s voice pulls you away.

“Moi sovereigni?”

You and Aleksander both answer simultaneously.

“Yes?”

Fedoyr’s eyes bounce between you and Aleksander, unsure about who he should be reporting to. Aleksander is still technically his commander, but you had been in charge of the rebel Grisha for so long that you had reluctantly accepted Aleksander’s title.

When you glance back at Aleksander he’s smiling softly, and nods at you in encouragement. He should be resting, not commanding an army.

You answer Fedoyr’s questions regarding the remaining guards in the palace, and issue some orders for your troops to establish your position as ruler of Ravka.

By the time evening arrives, you’re settling in one of the royal suites in the Grand Palace.

Aleksander had been a little self conscious at your offer of bathing him, he knows his body isn’t what you remember it as. But he’s still struggling to walk unaided and isn’t certain he has the strength to wash himself. So he accepts your offer.

“How bad is it?” he asks as you finish cleaning the remaining suds of shampoo away from the nape of his neck.

You had closed the door leading to the study when the healers had explained Aleksander’s condition to you, and he had been too tired to stand up and listen through the wood.

“You need a minimum of nine hours sleep every night and regular but small meals with high fat and nutrients. Light exercise daily and limited stress.”

He nods slowly, taking it all in.

Sitting down on the stool beside him, you trace your fingers over the ripples of soap that float over the surface of the water before you whisper,

“I should have come for you sooner.”

He shakes his head.

“I understand why you didn’t.”

He reaches towards your hand, holding it between both of his. Even his hands feel different than before and your heart breaks even further.

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I knew you were suffering and I didn’t help you.”

“But you did. You saved me. I’m alright now.”

“Sasha, you are not alright.”

He pauses. He can’t argue with that. Not when standing too quickly makes him dizzy and he’s tired all the time.

“I will be. Because of you.”

Tears fill your eyes as you lift your gaze to meet his own dark eyes, and your voice cracks as you say,

“I’ve missed you.”

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a tender kiss there.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

»»---------------------►

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

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny

From Friends To This

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gives you an intimate compliment that makes you question just how platonic your friendship is

Masterlist

Unable to sleep and growing bored with the episode of Grey’s Anatomy he was watching, Tom reached up and knocked the secret rhythm to on his wall. He tilted his chin up towards the wall, waiting for your response. Finally, you finished the knock, letting Tom know you were still awake. Ever since you moved in, you and Tom communicated at through knocking on the wall since your rooms were next to each other. It was reserved for late night messages, usually when one of you wanted a snack but didn’t want to go to the kitchen alone. Tonight, it was a matter of curiously.

“did I wake you?” Tom pulled out his phone to text you, not wanting to keep you up if you had been asleep.

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