If You Wondered Where I Was This Past Month There It Is

If you wondered where I was this past month there it is 👀

Absolutely love this! I neeed more dark reader helping her equally dark and ambitious lover. 😍

What do you think of a married darkling one shot where his wife is completely indifferent to his feelings/affair with Alina? Like she’s a Second army soldier first and is willing to put the grisha ahead of her feelings and marriage.

I'm thinking I could give it a (one) shot *ba dum tsk* I'm sorry please don't hate me

"Plan B"

Aleksander Morozova x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: Angst but like, not really

Alina was on fire. Her lungs were aflamed, her legs burning with strain, but she kept on running, she had to: she wasn't safe, wasn't going to be safe until she was outside of the palace grounds, outside of the city. Hell, probably outside of Ravka.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized her eyes where burning too.

He had lied to her. He had lied to her since the very beginning, and she had believed him, had let herself be swept away by gifts, and romantic ride dates and pretty words and soulful looks. Baghra's words resonated in her head "He's had centuries to master lying to naive girls"

A sob broke through her chest, the tears finally flowing free, obscuring her vision. She was almost blind in the darkness of the forest, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when she slammed into something hard and huge and was sent careening to the ground.

"Alina?"

"Mal!"

"Alina?" The second voice was a little harder to place, her eyes straining a little to see the features of the person it belonged to, until she finally recognized you.

"Y/N?" Alina took in your plain clothes, your winter boots, your traveling cape. Her mouth fell open in shock, was this why you had missed the fete? People had notice your absence, of course, and most were saying the reason for it was jealousy, that you were too bitter to stand there while the world watched Alina perform. Now she was starting to suspect different. "You're not wearing your keftka"

"Neither are you" You noted, stepping closer, and even in the dark Alina could see your gaunt, hollowed face, the bags under your eyes that looked too heavy to be just a day old. Genya must have helped you hide them, back at the little palace, but now you didn't need to keep your strong facade anymore.

Alina didn't know what to say. How many times had your suffering brought a smile to her face? She felt sick to her stomach remembering the dark satisfaction she had found in every new bit of gossip. The pleasure she had felt the morning Genya had presented her with a black keftka, the very next day after you had stopped wearing yours. The twisted joy when she woke up to a palace buzzing with rumours about you having moved out of the chambers next to the general's, the ones that had always been reserved for his personal heartrender but everyone knew what they really were for...

She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment as she confessed,

"He-... He lied to me" There was no need to clarify, there was only one man in the world she could be talking about.

"Yeah, he has a habit of doing that" Your voice was a weak murmur breaking a little at the end, and Alina felt a new pang of guilt hit her chest. She had hated you so much, when you had never been anything but polite to her, despite everything. Because you had never, ever done anything at all to deserve her animosity, other than being the lover of the man she had a stupid schoolgirl crush on.

Now she realized you both had been his victims.

"Not that I'm not all for reunions," Mal's voice made the both of you jump slightly. Had she really forgotten he was there? "But we'd do best to keep moving"

Mal, loyal Mal, pragmatic Mal, pushing all of his questions and feelings and thoughts aside until the task was done, until the three of you could find some shelter or some safe hideout... He didn't wait for your reply before starting to walk again, and you both followed him in silence for a couple of minutes, until Alina's brain decided to catch up with the bizarreness of the situation of having her childhood friend from Keramzin and her not-really-nemesis from the little palace and the darkling's second in command running away together.

But Alina wasn't as stoic as Mal. She voiced her thoughts,

"What are you doing together?"

You opened your mouth to reply but Mal beated you to it.

"She saved my life," He surprised her saying, "back at that old hag's hut"

"Baghra?"

You nodded.

"... How?"

"I never trusted the woman," You admitted without a trace of shame, "but lately, she has been behaving even weirder than usual, so I kept an eye on her cause I was convinced she was going to try something at the winter fete, while everyone was distracted. I mean," You gestured a little awkwardly to your peasant clothes, "It's what I would do, ehrm, did... Anyway, I saw Olga guiding him and another first army soldier to her hut, and then I saw Baghra attack them"

It still didn't answer why you had saved him, an otkazat'sya, when you were the general's second in command...

Alina only realized she had spoken out loud when Mal stopped dead in front of you and Alina almost crashed into his back.

"Wait, you are The Heartrender? The Darkling's Heartrender? The Serdtseyedka?"

Alina understood Mal's astonishment, you had a fearsome reputation: The stone-cold beauty that rode in the night alongside the Black General, glowing in the moonlight, stopping the hearts of entire garrisons with the flick of a wrist. But in front of them, there was just a girl, an ordinary looking girl with a tired demeanor and slightly slouched shoulders and the sallow complexion of someone who had spent days crying, that not even the glow the use of grisha powers could totally erase.

"I'm not the general's anything" You snapped, "Not anymore"

Alina nodded her confirmation at Mal. If he saw, he ignored her,

"Why did you save me?"

"When Olga announced you, I recognized your named" You sighed, "from the letters the general keeps at his desk in a locked drawer"

Alina gasped, a new dagger of pain finding its way into her chest. Her letters, of course he had intercepted them. Just when she didn't think he could be any worse, a new betrayal proved exactly how evil Aleksander really was.

"I don't know why Baghra wants you dead, though"

Mal rubbed his face with his hands, cursing the moment he had decided to take on the assignment,

"The stag. It has to be about the stag..."

You blanched,

"Wait, you found the stag? Morozova's stag?"

"Wait, what do you know about the stag?" Alina demanded.

"I-... I thought he had lost his mind" You explained, almost sheepishly, "That stag is a myth, a fairy tale!" You shook your head, regretful, "I should have known better, now all of us are in danger. Hell, the whole world is in danger! Alina, he wants your power! He plans to use the stag to control you!"

"I know, Baghra told me"

"Baghra? But then why would she-" Understanding dawned in your face, "Oh, saints! I saved the only chance Aleksander has at finding the stag..." You swore colourfully, very very colourfully. Enough for Mal's face to illuminate with amusement. Alina felt a faint stab of familiar jealousy at having the object of her affections show you attention, but she pushed it away. Now it was not the time, and you were too much of a powerful ally to reject. With you and Mal an an amplifier, she might actually stand a chance against the darkling...

For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a glimmer of hope, and it felt as warm as her light.

She straightened, squaring her shoulders with resolve,

"Not if we find it first..."

***

The general was pacing his war room, shadows licking at his hills, eyes shinning with murderous intent. Ivan did not want to be the one to deliver these new set of news to him, not when he was already so... Upset. But the thought of leaving Fedyor do it was unacceptable, even if he was your personal heartrender/bodyguard. In the state he was in, Ivan knew being met with the cut after informing his boss of the new development was entirely within the realm of possibility, and leaving his husband be the one to face that was simply unthinkable.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before clearing his throat,

"Moy sovereingy?"

General Kirigan stopped in his tracks, turning to face him.

"Yes, Ivan? Do you have any news for me?" His tone was deceivingly calm, but Ivan knew better. He could hear his galloping heart after all.

Ivan gulped. He couldn't do this, oh saints help him, he couldn't!

"Well??" The general promoted, impatient.

Ivan opened his mouth, trying to get his tongue to work, the words to come out.

They wouldn't.

Kirigan huffed,

"If you're just going to stand there, gaping like a fish-"

"She's gone" He blurted out.

The general closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in a clear effort not to kill his second best heartrender,

"Yes, I know miss Starkov-"

"Not her, sir. Y/N- lady Kirigan, your wife" Oh, great, now his mouth refused to stop, "She's not in her chambers"

The general froze.

"Ivan..." He started, slowly, as if he already knew the answer but refused to believe it, "If you mean the ones outside that door" He pointed at his left, to the double doors that led to the suite you had occupied for decades, "she vacated them last month..."

Please, say you mean those chambers, the plea hanged in the air between them. Ivan shook his head, mournfully.

"No, sir. Her chambers in the corporalki pavillion"

Aleksander felt his heart stop inside his chest, and he had to look at Ivan's hands to confirm that no, it wasn't the sullen heartrender's doing.

No. It couldn't be. You weren't gone. You couldn't be gone.

"Was she-"

Ivan shook his head again, interrupting him,

"No, sir. Some of her things are gone. She seems to have left by her own means"

In a blink, Aleksander was already halfway across the palace, marching into the corporalki wing, ignoring the curious looks of his grisha as he bursted through the doors of your new bedroom.

He was almost knocked back by your familiar scent, raspberry and peppercorn and something else, something peculiar and coppery and alive all corporalki seemed to have. The smell of the life force at the heart of the making of the world.

He almost wept at the sight of the magnificent kefta he had had made just for you, decadent velvet in blood red at the shoulders that gradually darkened until it finally pooled into the richest black at your feet, because if you refused to wear his colour, he would find a way to compromise, laying unused on your bed. You hadn't even made an appearance at the fete, he already knew that, his eyes had searched for you the entire night.

He had been so in edge, impatiently waiting for you to show up, he had almost snapped at Alina, having confused the room's sudden silence as a sign of your entrance. It had been almost impossible to push down his disappointment, he hadn't even been able to look at Alina as he said to her the compliment he had practiced all day to make to you.

Meanwhile, you had been making your escape.

He cursed the saints and himself, he should have seen it coming, the signs had all been there, you had been pulling away from him for months. You had abandoned his quarters, stopped wearing his colours, stopped going riding with him, avoided him at the halls of the palace, regarded him coldly at the dinning room, even when he started making an effort to show up to dinner almost every night, just to spend a few minutes with you.

And like a fool, he had believe you, time and time again, when you had reassured him after every new public rejection of your relationship that it meant nothing, that you loved him, that it was all to help him in his plan to woo the sun summoner and get her to fall for him.

Yet now you were gone, and he couldn't understand-

You couldn't have believed he actually loved Alina, could you? How, when you could hear his breath hitch every time he laid eyes on you, when you could feel his heart making summersaults inside his chest every time you touched him? And he wasn't quite sure how, but he knew you had to be able to see the sparks flying behind his eyelids every time he kissed you, the fireworks every time he made love to you, coming undone for you every time you called him yours, every time you repeated the single word vow that had tied your fates together almost a century ago: Forever.

No, you couldn't have left him.

He went through your closet, your vanity, your desk... He was right, something wasn't adding up: You had taken your jewels, but had left a whole bag of gold coins right there, had left your keftka but taken your equally easily identifiable cape, had left your signet ring but taken your silver and iridium wedding armband.

He could have hit his forehead with his palm, if the gesture hadn't been so completely undignified: Of course! It was so simple! The coins would have been untraceable, but the jewels would leave a trace, a very expensive trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. And you might not be wearing your keftka, but your midnight coloured cape was still so eye catching, so conspicuous, so obviously grisha. And there were only two grishas in the whole of Ravka allowed to wear that colour.

You may had run, but you wanted him to follow, you wanted him to find you-

His epiphany was rudely interrupted by Ivan and Fedyor, dragging a bruised Oprichnik into the room and throwing her unceremoniously at his feet.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded. It was Fedyor the one to step up this time.

"Sir, she was found unconscious in the palace grounds, claims to have had a confrontation with Commander Y/L/N. Apparently, she was the last to see her"

It was as if a switch had been turn, and suddenly Aleksander was all general again, glaring at the blonde soldier on the floor down his nose.

"I find this hard to believe" He said, "if you had truly faced the commander, you wouldn't be alive"

"I know, moi sovereiny" She muttered, not daring to meet his eyes, "She said she only let me live because she had a message she needed me to deliver to you"

"Did she, now?" He quirked an eyebrow, suddenly feeling much more relaxed than he had been only two minutes ago. It was much more easier to find your dramatic antics amusing, now that understanding had replaced fear and desperation "And what message do you have for me, corporal?"

Olga fidgeted on the floor, unable to meet his gaze, muttering some incomprehensible gibberish under her breath.

"I'm sorry" The general's voice was dangerously soft, "I didn't quite catch that..."

"She said to tell you "I told you so"" Olga repeated more firmly, clearly wishing to have any other words to say to him than those, undoubtedly afraid she was going to be the one punished for your insolence.

But Aleksander only rolled his eyes in exasperation. He didn't need any further explanation, he had had the very same argument with you for months, with you taking every chance you got to tell him how idiotic his masterplan was, and how it would spectacularly blow up in his face sooner rather than later.

He internally counted to ten, mustering all of his patience I order not to kill the messenger, before exhaling,

"Anything else?"

Olga hesitated. Ivan pushed her with his foot, Aleksander making a mental note to have a talk about encouraging methods with him later.

"She also said to tell you that, luckily for all of us, she always has a plan B..."

Aleksander had to smile at that. Of course, that was what you were doing, he didn't know why he was even surprised. There was a reason you were his second in command, after all, you weren't only a beautiful face or one of the most powerful grisha he had ever met: you were also a formidable strategist, often a step ahead even of him.

All of at once, it was made clear to him exactly what you had been doing all these months of putting distance between them in public, and now running away on the very same night the sun summoner had disappeared, which coincidentally happened to be the same night the tracker had showed up with information about Morozova's stag...

He realized with a start that he knew exactly where you and Alina were heading.

"Ivan," He ordered the faithful heartrender, "Select a handful of our best grisha for a secret mission and prepare my carriage, we are leaving at dawn. Oh! And get David, he's coming with us"

"Kostyk, sir?" Ivan frowned in confusion, what could the shy durast possibly be doing in a mission?

"Yes, we will be needing a fabrikator" Aleksander declared for all explanation, "and make sure he wears his winter keftka. We are going to Tsibeya"

Sherlock Holmes (2009) dir. Guy Ritchie

Sadly yes, 99.9% of them are murders. Do I care? No I don’t.

Y/N looking @ all her fictional crushes: It's just theres something about them.....

Friend: Oh well they're cute.

Y/N whispers something in their ear

Friend: THEY'RE MURDERERS!!!!

The men:

This is fucking awesome!! In my area we have about two houses who do this but only for Christmas (boo I want Halloween 🎃).