ENDING IT LIKE THAT IS SUCH A CRIME OMG

ENDING IT LIKE THAT IS SUCH A CRIME OMG

he's like that | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: Sirius Black is colder than ice, and you are not. where you slowly melt down his cool physiognomy and find your way into his heart. all good things come slowly, and surely. fluff.

warnings: references to an abusive household, disowning, alcohol, food.

navigation | masterlist 

Sirius Black was not the friendliest person you had ever met. In fact, his general disposition was somewhere middling carelessness and ice, a combination many people found irresistible. Sirius did have emotions, though. You had seen him laughing with Marlene, one of your best friends. When you had bounded up to her to talk with them, he vanished. 

Oh, he was an enigma, that one. One time, he was in the library, laughing with Remus. You had waved to Remus and he had stopped laughing. You frowned and Remus rolled his eyes, walking up to you.

“He’s like that. I’m sorry.”

You had waved him away, “It’s okay, Remus.”

And that time in Charms left you bitter about him. 

Flitwick had ordered you to partner up with Sirius, and you had. He hadn’t spoken a word to you, never. 

“Now, class,” Flitwick had noticed your very one-sided conversations, “Remember that no matter what, you must all get along. I don’t understand, we’re all from the same house here. Well, except me. But not all of us can be intellectually gifted. Now swivel and tap!”

Sirius still didn’t spare you a glance. Shrugging, you remembered Remus’ words.

You were great at Charms and socialising anyway, you didn’t need some no-good, high and mighty aristocrat to excel. You caught the eye of Lily, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Sure.”

“Professor,” you raised your hand in the air, “May Lily and I be excused for prefect duties?”

Flitwick was very kind, “But first, please show me the Protego charm.”

You both casted it flawlessly and he nodded, “Have a nice day.”

“You too!”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. 

“I’m sorry about Sirius, he’s like that.”

“Not your fault, Lils, I don’t mind.”

“It’s never personal.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Early start on Transfiguration?”

“Sounds good.”

“He is just like that, you know.”

“I know,” you said as you sat into your Transfiguration seat, taking out some parchment and beginning to write. People filed in soon enough. 

Sweeping a glance of your whereabouts, you caught the eye of Sirius Black seated close to you, who was currently grinning at the mess of Lily’s hair he had just made casting a spell to straighten it. Immediately his grin was wiped off, replaced by an indifferent stare, but your eyes kept moving. They found the deep brown of Marlene, who just smirked at you in an attempt to look cool as a cucumber for Dorcas.

The class was usually interesting– McGonagall always had the most rigid and demanding lesson plans, but she filed in with a murderous gaze today. 

“Jeez, she looks like she’s on a warpath,” James whispered to Sirius. 

“Yes Mister Potter,” McGonagall drawled, “In fact I just found a sixth year frolicking in the corridors, they had the nerve to talk back to me! Nice to see you Miss Smith, how’s the knee?”

“Well, thanks Professor,” Gertrude Smith adjusted her cast underneath the table. 

“Right, page 679 of Transfiguration Advanced, I want you to pair– would you stop causing that ruckus, Mister Malfoy! And Miss Brathburt, please readjust your tie! Where was I at, yes, I will put you into pairs seeing as you, Miss Holt, cannot stop chatting. We can talk about Potions later, yes I can hear you Mister Crabbe. Your goal is to turn a piece of the other person’s hair curly and turn it back. Make sure to flick, not swish, contrary to Charms, Mister Black, we don’t want to cause a static mess. I dread to see what your Charms work is like.”

As she spoke, she flicked her wand in the direction of Lily and her hair went impossibly tidy. 

“Mister Potter and Miss Mckinnon. Mister Malfoy and Miss Meadowes. Mister Pettigrew and Miss Brathburt. Miss Holt and Mister Lupin. Miss Smith and Mister Gerard. Mister Black and Miss L/n. Miss Evans and Mister Diggory. Mister Samson and Miss Perdentio. Miss James and Mister Gideon Weasley. Mister Fabian Weasley and Miss Rembrandt. And Miss Kane and Mister Rembrandt. Chop chop now, let’s get a move on. I don’t want to see pink hair or any frizz or trust you will be staying in next period.” 

You grimaced. You turned to Lily, and asked her only half jokingly, “Wanna swap?”

McGonagall shot you an amused look, “No swaps, Miss L/n. We must all learn to get along.”

“Funny,” you snarked to Lily, “I remember Flitwick saying that too.”

Huffing, you point your wand at Sirius, who was taking his sweet sweet time talking to Peter. You muttered the spell under your breath and Sirius felt his hair coil up. Then you turned it back.

You turned to the professor, a small smile playing on your lips and she looked approvingly at you. “Page 256 for extension work, class.”

Sirius was apathetic, and continued his conversation. 

You had already completed the work on page 256, so you chose to take out a piece of parchment and continue your Potions homework, glancing at Marlene occasionally to see her gazing fondly at Dorcas. 

“Mister Black,” McGonagall warned, “Mister Pettigrew.”

“Minnie, you know my hair’s already perfect.”

“This is not about the charm,” she drawled back, “It’s about the practice, discipline…”

“And skill,” Sirius finished. 

“Well, show me then.”

Sirius waved his wand casually and your hair turned impossibly curly, more curly than it had ever been. Then he waved his wand again and it was normal. You were grinning at Marlene, mouthing encouragement as she glared back. 

McGonagall frowned. He shrugged and returned to his conversation. 

The bell rang and she strode out, stopping at the threshold, “Class dismissed. Homework is three feet of parchment,” groans rung from all around the classroom, “on the use of Transfiguration within the cosmetics industry and its impact,” more groans, “It will count for your final grade, and it is due next lesson.”

“But the next lesson is in two days, Professor!” someone called. 

She gave them a scathing look, “And whose problem is that? See you all in two days.”

Lily was furious after class. She stormed into Sirius’ dormitory, a whirlwind of ginger and red.

“Sirius Black,” she started calmly, “You are acting like the biggest grinch since Christmas,” her top lip curled, “I don’t want to say this but, you’re mean, Sirius.”

Sirius startled. He sighed. “Am I really?”

“She thinks you’re mean. I would say that’s a pretty good indicator.”

Sirius knew exactly who Lily was talking about. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. Sirius, you can’t keep on doing this,” she replied softly, “You’ve gotta let people into your life.”

“I can’t, Lily.”

“You can. And you will. I hate to do this to you, but you have to, Sirius. People are inevitable.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know you are, love, but you won’t be any less scared if you ignore everyone for the rest of your life. And I know it’s hard, but you’re strong, Sirius.”

“I don’t want to turn into them.”

“You’ll never, Sirius. You’ll never be them. Just, don’t be mean.”

“Where should I start?”

“Be yourself, but be nice, Sirius. You’re a great guy.”

Sirius started trying harder. When you bumped into Remus and him at the library, he didn’t glance past you, but nodded at you, like men did, he said to Remus. He started looking passively gentle, less cold. There were a few changes, but they became bigger. 

He was headed to Potions after smiling at Flitwick in the courtyard. Flitwick, with his usual assuming nature, which came with being very very advanced intellectually, had seen right through him. 

You had your arms linked with Dorcas, going the same way. 

“So much homework,” she sighed and you nodded, catching sight of Marlene in your peripheral vision.

“Marls! Over here!”

You offered your free hand to her and she snorted. “I don’t do physical contact, remember?”

Dorcas’ head peeked out on the other side. “Really?” she asked softly.

Marlene went red and you smirked to yourself. She stuttered, “I guess I could make an exception.”

Dorcas hummed. You wracked your brains, trying to figure out how to leave them alone. You spotted Lily and James walking, swaying in a romantic embrace. I’m gonna break it up, loverboy and girl. 

“Lily, where are the Muggle Studies notes?” you clashed Dorcas’ and Marlene’s hands together haphazardly, running to her. 

You had never seen Marlene so flustered. Dorcas just looked surprised, doe eyes looking up at Marlene in confusion. It made Marlene shudder, but she regained her composure and linked their hands together. 

“Awwwhh!” you heard Sirius, walking with his group of Marauders bar James, “You guys are so cute!” he teased Marlene, making kissy faces at her. Dorcas blinked innocently. 

Marlene unleashed her most gnarly vocabulary at Sirius, glaring at him. 

“He’s a little confused,” she smiled at Dorcas, “He means that we are both, individually, cute.”

Dorcas nodded, “Makes sense.” 

You were busy chatting to James and Lily, “This older lady came up to me, and I was looking for mothballs for my wardrobe, right?”

“Huh?” James frowned at the same time Lily said, “You could’ve just asked me, I have heaps,” she turned to her confused boyfriend, “They’re the little jasmine balls you were juggling with the other day, remember?”

Realisation washed over James, “Ohhhhh.”

“Yeah, okay, continue.”

Sirius was stone-cold on the outside. 

“So, Pads, you got an eye on any ladies?” Peter asked. 

He laughed, “Don’t think so, Wormtail.”

“Any gentlemen?”

“Nope.”

“Shame. Well, Mary and I went to the ice rink the other day.”

“How was it?”

“I’m not really good on land, who was I kidding to go on frozen water?”

Sirius guffawed.

“I was waddling like a fricking penguin whilst Mary looked like the snow queen.”

You kept a firm eye on Marlene and Dorcas. It was a magnificent contrast, Dorcas so quiet and tidy and sweet and Marlene so fiery and hot-headed and rude. Dorcas made Marlene more mellow and more open to love, and Marlene helped Dorcas to be heard more often. You smiled to yourself. What a pair. 

The cohort swarmed into Slughorn’s potions class, who was smiling that same old pretentious grin. 

“Please,” he held out a top hat upended, with little slips of paper, “It’s random tuesday!”

The whole class were used to his antics by now and put up with him begrudgingly. You reached in, and pulled out a slip of paper. 

It read, “34E” so you sat in the seat. James Potter was behind you, and he tried moving a spot to his right but he was glued into the seat. 

“I know he’s beyond cooky, but this is madness,” he whispered. 

You laughed, “I think it’s funny.”

Marlene walked in and you crossed your fingers she would sit next to you, but she sighed and sat next to James. 

“Seat buddy!” James put his hand up for a high five that was ignored. 

You giggled, and saw a hint of a smile on Marlene’s face. She herself began to smirk slowly as you caught sight of Sirius, nonchalant and handsome.

You had a general disdain for his aloofness, though you did secretly hope he would treat you like he did his friends.

“Hi,” you greeted him and he gave you a nod, taking out his quill and parchment. He swore under his breath when he realised he had forgotten his textbook. You glanced at him in confusion, half concern and apparently he’d been looking at you too. Inwardly, he melted. He loved nice people. But as he had come to learn, some nice people weren’t nice at all. Remember what Lily said, he thought. His eyes remained a cool, distant grey. 

“Textbooks to page 420,” Slughorn boomed, “Ha! Get it?”

You laughed, he was more childish than any of you, flipping open your textbook. Surprisingly, Sirius enjoyed the sound. It was certainly different to James’ big loud laughter, Remus’ quiet chuckles or Peter’s hysteric giggles, but it was a good change. 

Beginning to copy down the notes, you looked to the side to see Dorcas with her head in the clouds, as it usually was. Dorcas was the dreamer of the year. You finished writing and look around. Sirius was glancing at your textbook casually and you made a startled noise. 

“Here,” you whispered, moving the book more to his side than it stayed in yours. He was unmoved, nodding again. Maybe you were worth letting into his life.

“Dorcas,” Slughorn called, “Tell me what the main component of the Healing Draught is.”

Dorcas looked at him glassily, “Pardon?”

Slughorn repeated the question, tapping his fingers on the table in an impatient rhythm. 

Dorcas looked around, relieved as you mouthed “Wrathspurt,” scribbling it discreetly on your hand and showing it to her. 

“Wrathspurt, sir.”

Slughorn looked sceptical. “Very well.”

Sirius admired you a little more after that. He was close with Dorcas, who was best friends with Regulus. 

Slughorn dictated what you were to do next, which was to make a simple Healing Draught. You popped up quickly, retrieving ingredients, hauling a cauldron and juggling a knife, which you ordered Sirius to carry for you. He did so compliantly. 

He was impressed. You were complete competence mixed with modesty and a little charm, good humour. You made jokes which he found very funny but only ever smiled slightly at. He wanted you around more. 

Once the healing draught was made, you gave it a sniff and stared at it satisfiedly. 

“We did it, partner!” You held out a high five but then remembered that like Marlene, he didn’t do physical contact either, retracting it awkwardly and giving him an awkward smile to match. 

It’s the first time you’d seen him smile wide. It was the prettiest smile you’d ever really seen, his teeth flashing dashingly and his eyes lighting up. His aristocratically poised face turned into something boyish and warm. 

“Okay stop smiling now, it’s getting weird,” you laughed and he shook his head. 

You bottled up the potion and handed it to Slughorn, who approved. 

“Best of the lot,” he murmured and you bounded back to Sirius. 

“Sirius, he said it was the best of the lot!”

He smiled again. 

It was a few hours later, with him and James lying on their beds. 

“Hey Prongs?” he asked James, who was flipping through a Quidditch playbook, swinging his legs, like a Muggle girl in a rom-com. 

“Mm?”

“Can I invite someone to our Friday night funnights?”

James peered at him, surprised, “Of course, Padfoot! Who is it?”

Sirius told him and James raised his eyebrows.

“I thought she might be a good friend.”

“Okay, whoever you like, Pads.”

“Will Remus and Peter mind?”

“She’s in Remus’ book club and Peter, well, as long as Mary’s there, Peter doesn’t notice a thing.”

“Cool. Cool. I’m excited, Prongs, I think she might want to be friends.”

“I’m proud of you, Pads.”

Friends were good for you, Sirius came to learn. James was there for his brotherhood and support, Remus for his knowledge and his wisdom, Pete for a sense of innocence and boyhood. They were his closest friends but he had Lily, a kind, furious, motherly addition to his list of friends. Marlene for his ability to relate to whatever situation she had going on at home and how they both hated love, and Dorcas for her ditsy humour, and dreams. Dorcas inspired Sirius. There was also Amos Diggory, he was the golden boy and on the rare occasions he and Sirius met, they got along like a house on fire. Maybe you, too.

And here that opportunity sat opposite him, head leaning on Mary’s shoulder as you giggled. You had complimented his choice of music and the questionable room decor that consisted of two broomsticks and a suspicious stick. It was Sirius’ night, James had insisted, toasting his glass of orange juice to new friends and enemies. 

Truth or dare was being played, though by now it had turned into Truth or Truth, a bottle of Veritaserum sourced by Lily half empty. Red cups of orange and apple juice were sitting all around, Firewhiskey discarded. It had been because you opted for orange juice, and everyone else had joined you, not wanting to keep you responsible for all of them when they were past their limits drinking booze. You were sticky with joy and warmth, laughing and crying.

“Prongs, what’s your hot take on Lily?” Remus asked. James took a swig of his orange juice, dosed with Veritaserum. 

“She’s secretly a world-class ballerina.”

Sirius snorted, “Evans? No way.”

“Thanks, idiot. I would be offended but I remember that you have less than two brain cells and pity you.”

Sirius pouted. 

“Y/n, who’s the prettiest person in the room?” James asked. 

You sipped your orange juice, “Marlene.”

“Awh, love you my little hermit,” Marlene smiled at you and you smiled back. 

“I didn’t need orange juice for that, Marls.”

“Okay, quit it.”

Sirius began to see why Marlene hung around you so much. You made Marlene happier, more rounded. She was grinning into her cup of apple juice. 

“So, Y/n, you gonna hang out with us more often?”

“One question only, Potter, but I guess. I already spend lots of time with Lily and Marls and Dorcas. If it’s okay with you.”

“It’s great.”

“Yay! New friend!”

“What about me?” Peter blinked at her and you smiled, “You’re my friend too, Peter.”

“Do I get a ‘Yay’?”

“Yay! New friend!”

Laughing. Sirius looked weirdly meek, weirdly emotional. You noticed, and he was surprised. 

“You too, Sirius.”

He nodded, grateful. Inside, he was elated. His walls were coming down slowly. 

The night began to wear away after the clock hit 11 and Lily had to go, so James had to go. Then Remus went down to pack away the common room. Peter and Mary sneaked off to her Ravenclaw dormitory. Dorcas fell asleep on Marlene’s shoulder, leaving her stunned. 

“That means she feels comfortable around you,” you whispered and Marlene broke into a wide smile. 

Sirius was sitting, and he was quiet. 

“You alright, friend?” you asked him. 

“The orange juice is warm,” he made a face at you and you laughed.

“It’s better than hot cola.”

“Cola?” he asked. 

“What? You don’t know what cola is?”

“He lived a restricted life,” Marlene chimed in. 

“Oh no, no, Merlin, no,” you replied and Sirius thought for a second that you were rejecting his whole existence. His heart dropped, “That simply won’t do.”

You left and re-emerged with two cans of something red. They were cool against Sirius’ skin and he smiled at you. 

“What do I do with these?”

It was opened, and let out a strange hiss. You passed it to him, and he took a sip. 

“Oh.”

You warmed one up by the fire and passed it to him. 

“Ew.”

“Here, give me a sip.”

You poured it into a cup, took a sip and grimaced. “Gross. That’s really gross.”

Marlene laughed, “Me next.”

You were about to pour her some, but she just grabbed yours and chugged, shrugging, “It doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“Marls, it’s Coca Cola.”

“What? You mean rum and coke.”

“I keep a family friendly household. I don’t drink.”

“Prude,” Marlene retorted. 

“Dependent on alcoholic substances.”

“She isn’t wrong, Maroon.”

“Maroon,” you said, thoughtful, “That’s nice. Mar is kept and it’s her favourite colour. Maroon. Maroon. Maroon,” you tested. Dorcas stirred, eyes bleary as she blinked up at Marlene. 

“Someone kept saying the names of random colours in the dream I was having,” she mumbled and Marlene shhed her, “It’s okay baby,” you looked at Sirius and faked gagging which made him chuckle. It was a deep and pleasant noise. 

Marlene looked annoyedly at you and you giggled, “Think I’ll stick with Marls.”

Dorcas drifted off again. 

It was a few days later and you were sitting in the library, legs crossed over each other as you lounged, reading a book. Dorcas sat opposite you, sketching a picture. 

“So, Sirius, huh?” she asked, tone far away and feather light. 

“We’re friends,” you said happily.

“Really? He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“We’re friends,” you repeated. 

“He’s different.”

“We all are.”

“When you met him, what did you see?”

“He’s detached to everyone outside of his bubble. Cold. But when you do see him start to open up, he’s very warm. I wonder what he’s seen.”

“Interesting. You feel the temperatures. I see colours. He’s a purple to me, deep purple.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s royalty. He’s a mix of blue, for his calm and cool, and red for his emotions and pain. A dash of yellow, because he’s soft when you get to him.”

“What am I?’

“You’re so nice you can be whatever you want to be.”

You laughed. Dorcas flipped her sketchbook around and there was a picture of you, sitting peacefully. 

“Wow. Wow.”

Suddenly the wind, as if heaven sent, gushed through the window in an urgent rush. It blew the pages of Dorcas’ sketchbook, which were mostly filled with one particular face. Marlene. 

Dorcas blushed and you smiled to yourself. Again, the weather changed. Heavy droplets of rain began to fall through the open window and you and Dorcas squealed as she shut it. You both giggled and laughed as you ran back to the dormitories through the corridors. Thunder crashed as Dorcas began to look a little scared. Then a strike of lightning hit not far away, and she shrieked. She was scared of thunder. You felt out of your depth here, but were relieved when Marlene came thudding down the corridors with Sirius.

“Hey!” you called, “Marls! Over here!”

Marlene took care of the situation. Sirius was standing, observing, quiet. 

Marlene turned and gave you a very specific look, which made you start walking back to the common room. Sirius followed. 

“Is she okay?”

“Marlene’s got her. She does like Marls, you know. And guess what I saw in the library?”

“Mm?” His eyes peeked over to you. 

“A whole sketchbook. Filled with Marls’ face.”

“I wonder why,” Sirius smiled. 

“Marls is very pretty, Sirius.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Anyway, they’re gonna be at least two hours, I’m going to head to the Prefects’ common room.”

“Hey,” he stopped you, “Marlene usually watches the game with us on Saturday afternoons, which is where we were headed. Do you want to come?”

“As her replacement?” you shook your head, amused. 

“Well- I- no, you’re our friend. And I heard you went for the Cannons. They’re playing tonight.” 

“I’ll come.”

A pleased look came onto his face. It was warm and interesting. 

You followed him to a small little nook where James and Lily were huddled around a wizard’s television, bright colours flashing. 

“Pollarck!!!!!” you squealed as you sat down on a beanbag, admiring the Cannons’ Seeker. 

“Pollarck?” James looked bemused.

“I know, he flies under the radar a lot and is such a humble sport, but he’s my favourite ever made.”

“Um?” Sirius looked at you, confused.

Lily translated, “He’s got a boyish quiet charm that she admires.”

You nodded, “He gets the job done, no fuss, no bravado.”

Sirius smiled, “I’m a fan of GK myself.”

“He’s funny too.”

“Butterbeer- never mind. Apple juice?” James offered and you accepted. 

“Thanks.”

“We always keep it around now,” James smiled warmly at you.

“You’re nicer than Lily lets on, Jimmy.”

“She’s just in denial.”

You learned that an afternoon of watching quidditch whilst taking tiny very noble sips of coca cola was the way Sirius enjoys spending his Saturday. 

“Pass the coke,” James said, and Sirius passed the red bottle. You choked a little on your apple juice as Lily and you shared glances. 

“Sweet,” Lily began, “That phrase isn’t what you think it is.”

After a quick explanation, you started laughing at James’ bewildered face.

“What’s-”

“Nevermind.”

Sirius was looking just as confused.

Eventually, the game did end, with your favourite player collecting the Snitch very quietly and hurrying into the changerooms just as soon as he did, the rest of the team trampling in after him to pour electrolyte drinks all over him. You winced.

“The crudeness.”

“Marlene plays,” Sirius smiled at you.

“The crudeness.”

“She’s been scouted for the Holyhead Harpies.”

“I know. The crudeness.”

“Sirius and I have been scouted for the Cannons,” James said. Lily was smiling. 

“Really?” you clapped your hands, “That’s wonderful!”

“They don’t even need to sit NEWTS,” Lily grumbled and you raised your eyebrows.

Sirius was quick to explain, “Pollarck and Jeffreys are retiring next year.”

“Noooooooo,” you cried, “Pollarck!!!” 

“He’s well beyond his peak,” James grinned, “He told me.”

“And after our careers, a commentating or coaching job is practically guaranteed,” Sirius joined in. He didn’t sound like he was bragging at all. “Want me to get Pollarck’s autograph?” he asked softly. 

“Oh, please!” you grinned at him, “Pretty please!”

“I’ll get everyone else’s too for you.”

You squealed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” Sirius smiled. Being nice was nice. 

And that’s what he told Minerva McGonagall, lying back in her sturdy armchair in the living room of her quarters. 

“That Lily Evans does have a way about her, doesn’t she?”

“Prongs did fall in love with her, I’d say she’s a great lady.”

“What about you and Y/n?”

“C’mon, Minnie, I just made a friend and you want me to start falling in love. Impossible.” Sirius did not get it. Neither did you, really. He thought there was nothing and wouldn’t ever be anything between you and him. Right now, he just really wanted to be friends. He wasn’t looking for more. 

“I know, but you both work.”

He shrugged, “I work with everyone, if I try hard enough.”

“That is true. How’s the Cannons?”

“Excellent, Minnie, I think I can get you a broomstick that once belonged to Heather Proud.”

“Really? Oh my Merlin, that is exciting,” she lilted.

“Oh yes, and it only comes off my fantastic charm.”

She rolled her eyes, sipping her tea, “I did receive a letter from your parents the other day.”

Sirius’ face dimmed. He turned tense.

“They paid out your tuition here and left you the trust fund from your, I quote, ‘greatest grandfather who enclosed that all grandchildren must have access to the fund, bound legally and within familial bonds.’”

Sirius blinked confusedly.

“Basically, you’re financially steady, which is guaranteed by Perseus Black,” Minerva spoke softly. 

“Why do you seem so uptight though, Minnie? Isn’t this good news?”

“Sirius,” she choked up, handing him the letter. His eyes skimmed the words. 

“Oh Merlin,” he leaned back into his chair, “They’re disowning me!” He chuckled, before burying his head in his hands, “They’re disowning me.”

Minerva put her arms around him, “Oh son.”

“Why am I still sad about it?” he sobbed. 

“Son, no matter who they are, they’re your family. That’s not going to change. You’re bonded to them. It’s normal. It’s completely normal.”

There was one thing that was not completely normal though, Sirius thought, much happier than he had been a week ago. It was Sybil Trelawney. She was strange, odd, elusive. Her big eyes bore into Sirius’ as she examined him. 

He gulped, widening his eyes at James. Something was about to happen. 

“Sirius, my dear,” she stared off into the distance, “Is there someone new in your life?”

He shrugged, “Depends. What do you call ‘new’, Professor?”

“A young lady. Lovely smile. Ooh, she looks rather like that girl who dropped out of my classes. I understand. She told me she had bigger priorities, and with that lovely smile I could not be mad. We all tend to go our own ways…” Trelawney drifted off. 

She recollected herself. “I see, paths will collide and never separate. Interesting, interesting.”

All Sirius saw was that the tea leaves had drowned underneath his tea. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should’ve dropped this class too. 

“Ooh, professor, I think I see a heart! Oh, now it’s a gigantic 65 headed monster that has red hair. Merlin it looks like Lily,” James giggled from opposite Sirius. 

“Lovely, Potter,” she sighed, “I do not get paid enough.”

Sirius smiled at her awkwardly. 

“Well, Sirius, there are open ends in your life currently. But I foresee– I foresee a feminine force.”

She moved on to another pair. 

Sirius facepalmed and James laughed. “Bro, I don’t know why I signed up for this class,” Sirius groaned. 

“Eh, don’t complain, you barely try and you’re first.”

“I made up all of my homework!”

“You know Trelawney likes imagination!”

“Surely there should be a limit to how much freedom of speech someone has! Feminine force, my foot. I have you and Lily, that’s enough feminine force to last me a decade.”

They both laughed. 

“Maybe she was talking about, about your new friend,” James wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius laughed. 

“No way she would.”

“Paths converge, never to diverge again,” James mocked. 

“I’m done,” Sirius sat back in his chair, eyes flickering around the room.

“Well, Sirius,” Trelawney observed, “You may be dismissed.”

Sirius “Yippee!”d and James muttered something that sounded like, “Handsome old teacher’s pet.”

He strode out of the room and into the corridor, immediately blasted with the sound of quiet wailing. It was a first year boy, looking so very distressed in his too-big cloak and clutching his wand. Sirius felt very sad, so decided to approach the kid. 

You were clicking through the halls, from the library to your next class. You heard his voice, it ricocheted through the walls, and stopped, sneaking your head around the corner. Sirius was bent down, talking hushedly to a young boy. You could piece together their conversation. 

“Little guy, what happened?” Sirius asked. 

A small voice sniffled, “I got lost. And- and my term hasn’t started well. Mrs McGonagall glared at me today, my potion blew up in my face and Mrs Trelawney said I might fall ill. All my friends ditched me to go play Quidditch and when I was tying my shoelace, none of them waited for me. So I’m here now.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. But let me tell you, Mrs McGonagall has this thing- have you heard of it? It’s called a resting,” here he swore and the small kid laughed, “face. Don’t worry about Potions, it hasn’t mangled you up at all. I don’t know what you looked like before but you’re very handsome,” he said, tender, “As for Trelawney, why today she said that I would have a feminine force in my life. You don’t take her for real, my dude. Your friends? They’re not nice, little dude, you shouldn’t put up with them. You deserve someone who will wait for you whilst you tie your shoelace. I can show you to where you want to go, which would solve your last problem. I can be your friend too.”

You felt something swell in your heart. It was earnest and deliberate, warm and you wouldn’t ever live the same way ever again. Oh no, you thought. 

This is how you would justify it- this impending crush on Sirius Black. He was so sweet and very beautiful, with those gorgeous eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. And it would be kept aside, you’d leave it alone. You wouldn’t harass him, no, you would continue on building your friendship with him. You wouldn’t act on your feelings. You turned on your heel, nearly crashing into Professor Trelawney.

The last time you had seen her was her crying over your departure from the Divination class. It had been a lachrymose affair. She looked jumbled, all over the place. Her eyes widened, larger than you thought they could ever get. 

“Ah! It is you!”

“Yeah, afternoon! I’ve got to rush, I have Arithmancy, professor, bye!”

“The very Arithmancy you left my class for!” she yelled.

“I regret it!” You smiled back. You didn’t. 

“You don’t, dear, good luck with your NEWTs.”

-

Your NEWTs did come and go, and after them you and your friends went out to celebrate. A Bacchanalian affair, and even you had decided to take a tiny sip of Butterbeer, recoiling in disgust and viciously trying to drown the bittersweet taste with your orange juice. 

The mood was joyful. Basically everyone had been offered a job after graduation, despite their NEWT outcomes. There were a lot of people crowding in the tiny bar, most being seventh years. Sirius was sitting with James at a counter, cautiously drinking his orange juice. Like always, everyone was staring at him. It wasn’t his dress- he had just put on a simple crewneck sweater with the little triangle under the neckline and some sweatpants. It was his whole physiognomy, you thought. Every day you had spent with him meant he became more and more stunning. He had the loveliest face, sculpted true to Aphrodite. Where did I come from? you smiled to yourself. 

And he was observing you, through his hair. He had a cool enough disposition to offset the amount of staring he was doing. Like him, you weren’t dressed up at all, but you were still pretty. Sirius had forgotten exactly how beautiful you could be whilst he was busy being friends with you. 

Pretty? he thought, Am I out of my mind? 

James tapped him on the shoulder, “You okay, Pads?”

Sirius blinked, hard. “Yeah.” 

“Right, well I’m going to go talk to McGonagall. You’ll be okay?”

“Excellent.”

Sirius played with the handle of his cup. How does Prongs do this love thing?

He felt the seat next to him shift and turned. It was a girl, upon a closer glance at her, it wasn’t you. Why does that even matter? You dolt.

“Hey baby,” she shuffled close to Sirius. Her arm came to hook around his tricep, “You know, you’re really hot.”

He was physically pained by the interaction, prying her arm away. If she felt rejected, she didn’t show it. 

“Thank you,” he said stiffly. He glanced at his fingers, placing them under the table and shifting one of his rings to his ring finger. You caught sight of the strange sight before you. Sirius looked uncomfortable. 

“A drink for the hot man,” the girl declared to the bartender, “And then you can come back to mine.”

He grimaced, “I’m sorry, but-”

“No buts, handsome. I know how to have a good time.”

She went to touch his face but he caught her hand. 

“Stop.” 

“Will I? You’re far too manly of a man to really make me.” 

“Stop,” he repeated.

She trailed her hand down his chest and he shifted back.

You were quickly shuffling through the crowd and he felt relief as you approached them. His eyes flickered to yours. They very obviously flashed in discomfort. 

“Hey!” you rushed over to him, hugging him very lightly. He whispered a thank you, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, gosh. And who is this?” 

The girl supplied her name.

“Sorry, but we have to go, don’t we?” you tilted your head at Sirius. He knew this was all a ploy, but he melted, nodding, dipping his head down to whisper another thank you in your ear. You laughed and shook your head. Outside, he enveloped you in a hug. It was lovely and mellow. 

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “Why?”

“I’m supposed to be strong. I’m a man.”

“No, you aren’t supposed to be strong all the time, Sirius. No one is. Men are manly even when they cry and it doesn’t make them any less if they are girly or like pink or any of that. She was forcing herself onto you, and it isn’t fair that if it were a girl, people would be all over it.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s warranted. Does this happen all the time?”

He nodded. 

“Gosh that is terrible, Sirius!”

“You’re right. I need a bodyguard. You up for the spot?”

“Of bodyguard?”

“Of course.”

“Not cut out for it, I’m ‘fraid,” you grinned. You were already friendzoned, you were sure of it, you didn’t want to be bodyguard-zoned too. 

“Shame.” He didn’t know why he felt disappointed. 

–

Sirius was struck with the burning revelation the day after. With no NEWTs to worry about anymore, you were always with him, some way or another. He liked you. More than he should, maybe. He thought you were gorgeous and so, so, good to him. Good for him, too. 

“Minnie, I think you were right.”

“Mm?” McGonagall barely looked up from her newspaper. 

“I do like her.”

The woman let out a triumphant ‘ha!’

“I like the way I feel with her.” 

“What are you going to do about it, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t think she knows, Sirius.”

“I know. Do you think she cares, though?”

“Oh, definitely.”

You peeked your head around the open door of McGonagall’s office. Sirius could recognise you from anywhere. He slunk down in his chair but McGonagall gave him a nod. From the angle you were at, you couldn’t see him.

“Hi Professor!”

McGonagall smiled at you, “Well, good afternoon!”

“I was just here to ask if you could switch Lily and I’s Prefect Duty for tomorrow. I know it’s a short notice, and I’m sorry for that.”

McGonagall swivelled to the calendar on her wall, flicking her wand. 

“Your shift?”

“8am with Connors.”

“Her’s?”

“8pm with Reginald.”

“Why the switch?” McGonagall’s blue eyes pierced through you. 

“There’s a dance tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to be attending?”

“Oh, it’s a couples event only.”

“Aren’t you- Don’t you have a plus one?”

“Unless you can find me one,” you joked, “But no, it starts at 7 and Lily has to be there. You know how James gets.”

“I do,” she said curtly, “He’s terribly pouty most of the time.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And mine is nice and early! And I don’t have anything on in the evening. You do know, Professor, Dorcas and Marlene got together so that wipes out half of my dormitory. Alice is with Frank, Mary with Peter. Oh gosh, I must sound so miserable. Anyway, enough about me, are you going?”

“I’m supervising,” McGonagall laughed. 

“Exciting! Right, so we can switch shifts, right?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much! Have a great day!”

“You too, sweetie.”

Sirius waited for your footsteps to recede to huff, “How come you call her sweetie?”

“That is beside the point. Young man, she doesn’t have a date for tomorrow’s dance. Do you?”

“No. I was just going to flirt my way in.”

McGonagall rolled her eyes, “Now you don’t need to. Go.”

Sirius rose, unsteady, making his way out already. He stopped at the door, turning around and flashing his million dollar smile, “Thanks, Minnie.”

Then he sauntered out. 

He found you in the common room, laughing in a corner as the girls showed you their dresses from above the stairs. 

“Oh my gosh Mary that’s so stunning! I love the detailing. Oh let me go up there, you are so hot, gosh!”

He heard vaguely a voice, a dreamy one, “So, you’re really not going?”

“Yep.”

“You know Diggory well, he’s hosting. I’m sure you could get in.”

“And be the only single around? I’d be third wheeling everywhere. Cas, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Let’s see your dress.” 

Sirius assumed that Dorcas stepped out, and you squealed.  

“You are so pretty, Marlene will be stumped when she sees you. Oh my golly let me take photos.”

And Sirius was left smiling at you, as you rushed to get a camera. He remembered he needed to make a move. 

“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” he stepped in, “Do you want to go with me to the dance?” he asked, gentle. 

You whipped your head around. 

“I noticed you didn’t have anyone to go with, and all your friends are going.” 

You beamed, he was so sweet, sacrificing his own time for you. 

“You are very kind, Sirius, but you should be asking someone you actually do want to go with instead of putting up with me just so I don’t feel left out,” you laughed. 

“Actually, it’s killing two birds with one stone. I get to ask someone I actually do want to go with and you don’t feel left out.”

“You want to come with me?”

“Yep.”

“As friends?” An opening. Sirius took it. 

“Nope.”

You looked at him, unreadable and quiet. 

“As more,” he said. 

“Okay then.” 

That was it. Sirius smiled, so brightly at you, so warm and lovely that you blushed and turned your head away. He climbed up the stairs. 

–

Oh he had never seen anyone more beautiful. He offered his arm to you and you took it happily. 

“We never talked about what we were.”

“Sirius, do we need to?” Your lips were ghosting his, so close. 

“You’re right. Can we go slow?” 

You tippy-toed, pressing your lips to his. He's like that, you thought.

Can you do a Sirius x reader where the reader goes to visit him in Azkaban

winter’s only pretty when you’re warm.

tags: sirius black x gn!reader,, soft angst,, azkaban,, ambiguous ending,, mention of yn,, short around 1k wc or so

a/n: thank you for the request,,, i hope you like it anon! <3

“jus’ hand over your wand, empty pockets, that’s it—“ the security, if you can even call him that, was a lanky, gaunt-looking man. he looked to not even bother to weigh your wand before stashing it away and waving you off. though you imagine, there’s hardly any need for him anyway, no one would even dare to step foot in this place.

the stone walls, dusty and narrow. the windows, hardly even considered as such for how small it was, was unreasonably high. like they don’t even want the inmates gazing at the sky. there was no light fixtures in place, except for the small weak fires lining up the hallway.

you hear the howling winds outside, and waves crashing against the the building, the silent echoes of groans, the crying pleas and the manic laughter deep inside the building.

the doors slammed open by the rough winds of the sea. you jumped, whirling to look at the source of the sound, fingers circling around your absent and locked up wand. an occupational hazard, moody calls it. you unclench your fingers, stretching out the tension.

you asked, no, begged dumbledore to do this. to be the one to talk to him, at least once.

the guard called over another, barking out, we have a visitor. as if it was a joke.

it could be. rarely anyone gets granted visits to azkaban, but dumbledore isn’t just anyone. you even had the absolute pleasure of getting bloody tips on where to go and what to say and who to say it to.

it was another guard, a familiar man that once worked for the dmle, though you fail to remember his name.

“i’m here for—”

he clicked his tongue, “i know who,” standing up with a groan and adjusting his trousers, “not like we have a line-up of visitors shceduled in this charming place. follow me then.”

elevators don’ work, always malfunctionin’, someone almost died last year, if you could believe it. ministry didn’t want to be liable so they jus’ removed it. didn’t even think of the older employees working here those bastards, the familiar man ranted.

on a regular day, strangers talking to you would have been your nightmare come to life, but you’ve come to appreciate the noise in your ears rather than the raging heartbeat echoing in your chest.

as you go further, raising floor up to floor, the colder it got, the more unsettled you feel. for once, it wasn’t because of the dementors that caused the chills down your spine but something greyer and darker than they are.

he led you to a room, locking it as he says wait, off to fetch him.

you stare at the scraped up table, the scruffs and scorch marks on the walls. wondering what must’ve happened from past visits before.

you pick at the skin around your nails, biting and ripping, until the red bead of blood seeps out.

the metal door creaks open, murmurs of warning exchanged between prisoner and guard, and then all you can see is grey and dark.

his sunken eyes, holding the once vibrant grey eyes that have now gone dull and misty. the dark luscious waves now in knots and matted down. he looked so different but he brightens up all the same once he sees you.

he runs to you, engulfing you in a hug. one that you know he needs more than anything. you see the guard reach for his wand and you stop him with a shake of your head, assuring that it was fine. he reluctantly nods and leaves you two alone.

you hear sirius take a deep breath in the crook of your neck as he clutches unto you for dear life. “angel, i di-didn’t—“ he sobbed, arms tightening as he did so, “i would have n-never, i would never betray james like that. you believe me, don’t you? please say you believe me. please say.” his voice cracking, body shaking like a damn leaf. he felt so cold, shaking in thin, shabby looking clothes.

you slowly raised your arms around his waist, hugging him back.

“i believe you,” you whispered, offering mere words as a consolation for losing everything, he cries harder. “shh. sirius. i’m here, i believe you,” you breathed, repeating this like a mantra, as he hugs you more and more into his chest. one of his hand smoothing out your hair at the back of your head and the other firmly wrapped around your waist.

the way he hugged you, and looked at you hadn’t changed, why should anything else?

you stay like this until he resembled the warm heat of a living person. sitting in front of each other but clutching each other’s hands. you struggle as you remove your, his, jacket but you did, placing it on his shoulders right after. hoping the heat from your use, can warm him just a bit more before the inevitable arrives.

“i c-can’t believe they let you be here.” he breathed, voice rasping like it was the first he’s used it in weeks. it probably is, you imagine dementors to be rather dull conventionalists.

“they had to,” you laugh bitterly, imagining the loud protests from the order, when you requested a visit. “else i would have never stopped. i had to come see you no matter what.” you look at him, dirtied and thin. chest clenching and something heavy dropping into your stomach as you gulp, “i should’ve come sooner, if i had known—“

he softly smiled, grey eyes looking so tired but actively roaming around your face, as if memorizing every minute detail. every blemish, mark, scar, mole and line. like it was the last time “no, this is perfect. i didn’t even think i could see you—“ he looked down at your hand completely engulf by his, an overtly misplaced fond smile on his still handsome face, “let alone touch you.” raising your hand to his cold lips as if to emphasize his point.

you dragged your chair over to him, clutching at his arms, pulling him to you—hugging him once more, unable to look at him as you bury your face to his shoulder. it hurt seeing him so happy here, of all places, just for the mere fact that he got to hold your hand.

resting your head on his shoulder, and him nuzzling your hair, taking deep breaths in. as if hoping your smell can somehow be engrave into his brain before the inevitable.

it was easy to forget where you were, being with him like this, but the distant moans and screams was just as easy to hear.

running your tongue over your dried bitten lips, knowing of the time and the limit set. “i don’t how to get you out, sirius,” you sniffled, clutching his dirty and muddy clothes. “they won’t listen to reason-”

he whispers back to you, face still buried into your hair, “because they’re afraid, angel.”

“they have nothing to be afraid of,” you scoff. “you don’t deserve to be here. you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“haven’t i?” he laughs, “i mean it was my idea—“

you shook your head, “don’t. you thought of it as a strategy, a damn good one if that. it was him. he was the one who couldn’t be trusted. it isn’t on you.”

“but i trusted the wrong person—“

“that doesn’t make you responsible for his actions, i don’t even want to—“ taking a deep breath, calming yourself down, “i just want to focus finding a way to set you free—“

“jus’ you here is fine,”

you frown, pulling away from him to look at him in the eyes. grey still misty, still dark.

“why do you sound like you’re just giving up.”

not a question. an accusation, a soft one—a disbelieving one.

he reaches to you. rough hands on your cheeks that used to be so soft, sullied after a year. “because it wouldn’t matter, james is gone, lily is gone, pete—“

“i’m not.” you cut in, smothering the rage at even hearing the traitor’s name. “remus either.” you steered your voice to be firm, “and harry, we’re still here waiting for you.”

conversation became quieter after that. less important, less imposing, more normal. like you were in your flat rather than a cell. in front of a comfy fire, rather than the howling sea winds and cold chills of the floating spirits around you.

chatting in the living room, talking about your day and the plans for the week after a hearty dinner.

hands, arms and even ankles twisted and tangled with each other. needing nothing else but to melt and meld with one another, never to part.

but then the inevitable, the door clanking and creaking open, indicating the end.

you pull each other, hugging fiercely just like the first.

sirius kissing your neck and cheek and forehead and nose and mouth. whispering promises, you don’t know if he’ll be able to keep.

he wasn’t shivering now, all warmed up and looking content but this offered no peace of mind knowing what he has to come back to. how sensitive he is to the cold.

he was escorted back to his cell, a lingering look sent to you as he goes, and each step he takes away from you makes you feel a little colder, a little more frustrated and a little more hopeless.

sooner than you’d like, you were already going down again, your jacket warmed by him hanging off your shoulders.

you get your wand and your portkey and leave.

the portkey beeps, counting down the seconds before it activates, as a trickle of snow softly fall down from the sky. snowflakes catching into your sleeves, beautiful shapes and designs in each one. the howling winds, cold and strong, but warmed by your jacket, you can hardly feel it. then you think of the thin, shivering, man holding your heart, trapped in the tower. with his cold lips and tired grey eyes.

---

I have fallen for brekker

—the set-up. | kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse.

ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married.

ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured.

ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

---

I want to squish him so bad ☹️

songfics!!! okay, i've had this idea in my head for a while now, haha the song nothing by bruno major with kaz brekker.

just think about it<3 and if you don't feel it, no worries!!

grateful you're mine

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: Omg, this song is so cute, I can't- I have to admit that I actually had too many ideas on what to write about, so I picked the one where they don't spend the majority of their time in Kaz's office. Just to spice some things up lmao. I changed the scenarios in the song a little bit, so it would fit into the Grishaverse. I hope you like this, and thank you sm for the request, love!!! <333 Also, this is a bit ooc for Kaz, but the song just SCREAMS domestic Kaz and I live for that.

Summary: Kaz spends a completely ordinary evening with his partner, but wouldn't even dare to trade it for anything in the world.

Genre: F L U F F

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Established relationship implied, domestic Kaz, alcohol mention

Kaz’s bad leg ached as he strode through the murky streets of Ketterdam, his cane rhythmically clicking on the wet cobblestone. A particular exhausting job robbed him of all his energy and the only thing he wanted to do today was to go home. When he reached the Slat he considered going inside - it’s where his room was, after all - but he quickly passed it. His home was somewhere - someone - else.

The walk to the West Stave district wasn’t long, but the biting cold wind forced him to pause occasionally, the discomfort getting too strong. While he climbed up the stairs of the slightly unfashionable flat building, he pulled out a small brass key that he kept safely tucked away in one of his inner coat pockets. He reached the familiar wooden door, unlocking it straight away and stepping into the cosy flat he knew all too well. As soon as he silently closed the door behind him, the smell of herbal tea, freshly baked bread and a distinct floral perfume filled his nose. He recalled a time when he tried his best to conceal the faint scent of this exact perfume that still remained on his clothes after returning to the Slat - futilely attempting to cover it with his own cologne. But now, he didn’t even seem to notice it - and if he did, he didn’t mind.

Slowly, Kaz took a look around as if he hadn’t been in here before. He let his eyes wander over the open living and kitchen area. A game of chess that had yet to be finished was still laid out on the tiny side table next to the cushioned couch and the old leather armchair. Books were scattered all over the already sparse space, but they somehow managed to never be in the way. The loaf of bread he had smelled as soon as he entered stood on the kitchen counter, a light coil of steam still emitting from it. His observations were interrupted when he heard the pattering noise of running water from the bathroom.

He sighed, taking off his coat and hat, hanging them on the coat rack, next to which he also placed his heavy boots and cane. The wooden floor underneath him creaked slightly when he made his way other to the armchair, where he allowed himself to sit down, stretching his legs out to release the tension that had been plaguing him for the entire day. His eyes almost threatened to close the longer he sat in his seat, but he was pulled away from the oncoming feeling of sleep when he heard the tap getting turned off, and afterwards a person shuffling around inside the bathroom.

The door opened and the person he had been craving to see the entire day stepped out, her hair still wet from the shower whilst she buttoned up the oversized black shirt Kaz had claimed to have forgotten here once. Against his usually bitter expression, a smile crept on his lips as he realized that she was humming one of his favourite songs, which she only knew because he taught her the words when she had heard him humming it. She didn’t seem to see the man that was currently lounging in her living room, since she was way too focused on walking towards the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and filling it with a bit of water. Even though he could continue watching her forever, he still decided to make her aware of his presence, not wanting to scare her too much once she’d eventually turn around.

“Do you mind also making me a bit of tea, darling?” he asked, his voice breaking her soft hums.

She squealed, her body whipping around as she held the kettle firm in one hand, ready to throw it at the unknown intruder. When she realized who had just startled her like this, she put the kettle down, gripping the counter with one hand, while she clutched her heart with the other.

“Saints Kaz, do not scare me like that ever again.” she huffed out, a sly smile forming on her lips, “Next time, I’ll genuinely cave your head in with Ghezen knows what.”

“I apologize.” he smirked, grasping the armrests and pulling himself up to walk over to her, "I didn’t intend to startle you.”

“It’s alright, I just didn’t think you’d swing by today.” she began, giving him a quick smile before she turned around to fill the kettle, “I heard that the job was quite rough, Kaz. You didn’t have to come over. I bet a good night’s sleep wouldn’t hurt.”

“The job was rough. That’s why I wanted to see you.” he cooed, sitting down on one of the stools behind the counter.

A faint rosy blush settled on her cheeks, as she put the water on the stove, letting it simmer until it had the right temperature to pour two mugs of tea.

“You’d rather spend the evening with me than go out and celebrate a successful heist with the others?” you chuckled, leaning against the cupboards behind you.

“Yes.” was the only thing he said, while he continued watching her.

“Love, did someone hit you on the head? You’re way more domestic than usual.”

“No.” he breathed out, “I just waited to see you the whole day, and now I finally do.”

She snorted, shaking her head with an adoring smile on her face.

When the water was finally hot enough, she poured themselves a cup of tea each. She chose rooibos tea since she had unconsciously memorized that he mentioned it being his favourite. From that point on, she always made sure to have some in stock for him. Before he could take the tea from her hands and move back to his seat, she mustered him carefully, cocking her brows.

“Did you at least eat something today?” she asked, a playful accusatory tone laced her voice as she spoke.

“You know me better than that.”

“Then it fits perfectly that I just made some bread. You’re not leaving this flat without having eaten something.”

Now it was his turn to shake his head. She was way quicker than most to catch on whenever he needed something. Whether it was food, help or just comfort, she always seemed to know exactly what he wanted.

Without complaining, he accepted the tea and the plate that was placed in front of him, a piece of bread and some butter followed soon after. They didn’t talk much while they ate, only silently enjoying the other’s company. It was a mundane scenario, sitting together and eating, but it felt right to him.

After they had finished eating and migrated over to the living room, she suggested that they could finish their game of chess, knowing exactly that Kaz probably wouldn’t be able to win. Nevertheless, he agreed. And even if Kaz’s options had been better, he probably still would’ve lost. Instead of focussing on the game, his gaze seemed to constantly shift over to the girl sitting across from him. She was completely concentrated on the figures in front of her, biting her lower lip as she thought about the best opportunity to beat him. He couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way she smiled, whenever she was able to beat one of his sloppy moves or how she looked back up at him after he managed to outsmart her once in a while. If anyone else would sit across from him, he wouldn’t have allowed them to beat him this easily, but with her, winning didn’t matter.

“Check-and-mate!” she called out, chuckling as she snapped his last figure off of the board, “I think we should start looking for a different board game to play, you seem to really suck at chess.”

“Don’t get too bold, love. You’re only able to always win because you’re just way more appealing to look at than that ancient wooden board.” he cooed, his voice weirdly desolate of its usual sarcastic tone.

“That is disgustingly sweet. Especially coming from you.” she blushed, retrieving two wine glasses and a matching bottle from the drawers underneath the side table.

“Are we celebrating something?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he watched her pour the red liquid into their glasses.

“Yes, we’re celebrating your presence.” she giggled, pushing his glass over to him.

“That’s hardly something worth celebrating, is it?”

“It is to me.” she retorted, her voice stern but not harsh, “And if we take into account that we are in one of the most dangerous places in the entirety of Ketterdam, being alive and well should definitely be something worth celebrating.”

Kaz paused at that comment. The Barrel and every district surrounding it was filthy, dangerous and not the ideal place to live in. He had been stabbed, ambushed and captured more times than he could count on one hand, but still, he was alive. It barely ever appeared to him that all of the ordinary tasks and rituals he’s able to spend with her were never promised. Through the simple flick of a wrist or shot of a gun, he was able to drop dead on the spot, so the plain fact that he was currently able to sit next to her - no worries clouding his mind or immediate threat in sight - was more than enough.

She began talking again, asking him about the mission, the Crows and the Club. The usual discussions they had, whenever he decided to pop by. He told her about the many errors Jesper made again, trying to not be too mean to him since she would definitely scold him if he dared to drop an insult. He described how the mission went, leaving out all the parts where he got hurt in order to not make her worry too much. He also talked about the newest shenanigans the Crows had been up to. Apparently, they started catching on to Kaz’s occasional visits to you and were now berating him to talk about his new so-called crush. If they would only be able to see him right now - no gloves, comfortably lounging in your armchair, and a content smile on his face - they’d probably all go mad.

After he caught sight of one of the thick romance novels on the ledge next to your window, he remembered that he still had one of the books you had lent him a while ago sitting in his bag. He promptly reached for it, pulling out the well-read book and putting it on the table in front of her.

“You finished it already?” she giggled, her cheeks now slightly reddened by the alcohol flowing through her veins.

“Of course I did.”

“I thought you didn’t like to read these kinds of books?” she grinned, mocking his tone of voice whilst saying the last few words.

“I never said that I did enjoy reading it.”

“You so did.”

“You have no substantial proof.”

“I have an amazing memory, that is proof enough.” she said, picking up the book and flipping through the pages, “Wait, did you add your own annotations? I didn’t enjoy it my ass!”

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll make sure to never associate with you again.” he replied playfully, chuckling as she saw her toss the book aside.

“I would never, even though I know that you wouldn’t dare to break up with me. I want to stay the only person that gets to see this side of you, Mr Brekker.”

Kaz smiled right back at her. He didn’t like to admit it, but this side of him wasn’t all that bad. It had been scary at first, trying to let go of the icy exterior and name he had made for himself, but being vulnerable had its perks.

“Shit,” she gasped suddenly, “Do you have any idea how late it is? You should really get back to the Slat before the solicitors of the White Rose get out and start wrecking some shit again. They’re getting more questionable day by day.”

“Do you want to get rid of me so bad?” he smirked, raising a brow.

“What? No, of course not!” she exclaimed, “I just didn’t think that you would want to stay after such a long day, and I really don’t want to drag you into something you don’t want, because then y-”

“Have I told you lately I’m grateful you’re mine?” he interjected abruptly, causing her mind to override, as she felt her cheeks warm up again.

Whether it was the alcohol talking or his genuine blissful feeling of the moment, none of them knew, but much to her surprise he didn’t take it back. He didn’t even try to play it off.

“Alright, Brekker, you really are tired, that’s for sure. Let’s get you to bed.” she giggled, standing up to get him some of the rather comfortable clothes she had stowed away for the nights when he decided to stay with her.

Kaz quickly changed into his night clothes - a long-sleeved black sweater and a loose pair of black sweatpants. She had seen him like this a hundred times before, but it always felt strangely vulnerable to stand in front of her without his usual formal attire. He’d get used to it after a few minutes, but the first few minutes could be quite difficult.

She was already in bed when he sauntered out of the bathroom, reading one of the newer novels he had gifted her a while ago. When they first slept next to each other, she had put up a pillow barrier between them, just in case one of them would have an especially restless night, and actually touch the other. It took Kaz a few months to get used to sharing the bed with someone, though it only happened sometimes. But when they began working on his touch aversion together, he asked her to remove the pillows. And it worked. He still felt oddly proud of this achievement, even though it was far from what other ordinary couples may do at night.

He crawled into bed right next to her, closing his eyes as soon as his head hit the pillow, while he listened to the sound of her periodic yawns or the sound of her fingers turning the pages.

“Last chance to leave, Kaz.” she chuckled, closing her book and putting it on the nightstand next to her.

“Not going to happen, darling.” he muttered, suddenly feeling way more tired than he had before, trying to stifle one of his own yawns.

“Was that a yawn, love? Did doing nothing with me for the whole evening tire you out so much?” she said softly as she turned off the light, leaving the room to only be illuminated by the dingy street light that was visible through the window.

Her statement flashed through her mind for a quick moment. She was right. He could’ve spent the evening with the rest of his team, celebrating their newest achievement and having way too many drinks at the Crow Club. She also could’ve spent her evening differently, going out and having a night out with her friends. But somehow, none of them seemed to care that much about the apparently wasted time. Because to them, it wasn’t.

“No, there's nothing like doing nothing with you.”

---

CAT KAZ

Stray : a Kaz Brekker x f!reader oneshot

A/N: thank you for this anon request/prompt for Kaz! This cat is a tortoiseshell breed, because they can be quite vicious and my family adopted one when I was a child and he was half feral.

Summary: You rescue a stray cat because it reminds you of Kaz: dark, scarred and a little prickly. (Established relationship).

The loud scattering of pebbles and high pitched angry yowl altered your course, sending you off towards the mouth of a dark alley. Once inside, you quietly freed the leather sap Kaz made certain you always carried on you, and crept up behind the larger of the two boys tossing stones at something just out of your sight. You swung the blunt weapon and brought it down hard on the side of his head, sending him staggering, holding his right ear. You knew it would be ringing something wicked.

The smaller boy turned to face you with a snarl, his teeth fading back behind his lips as he recognised you. You let the sap drop on its loop, swinging back and forth in front of his face.

Keep reading

---

this has been the best thing I’ve read all week 😭

Hiiii hope ur well

would u mind doing a darkling x moon summoner fix like she’s disguised as the queens gorgeous lady in waiting but she’s really the kings personal gaurd/assassin.

and aleksander finds out about her when she saves alina from the attack on the way to the little palace.

and of course u have free rein whether u want to continue this or have a jealous trope with Alina and I won’t shy away from smut lol (I’d love a scene where the moon summoner catches the contucdor at the winter fete and helps control his mind to get answers)

thank youuuu

SWEET ANON! i want to preface this with an apology, because it took me so long to write... and it is... a very long piece of writing. i hope it meets the mark though. it might be one of my personal faves that i've written. i love u <33

AS ALWAYS, PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS <333333

warnings: canon typical violence, some angst

word count: 10.5k

The Dark Side of The Moon (aleksander morozova x fem! moon summoner! reader)

READ PART TWO HERE

-

He needed you.

No, he didn’t need you, he reasoned with himself. He just… really wanted you. 

His hands were still in position, but The Cut he intended to use was long forgotten and faded. You stood behind him and he gaped at you from over his shoulder. You looked as lovely as ever, but even more so now that power was thrumming just underneath your skin, so freshly used. 

The Fjerdan that had been a part of the ambush on the road back to Os Alta, lay over Alina with a smoking, gaping hole blown through his chest. 

The girl pushed the body off of her in a panicked manner, and you dashed past the Black General and grabbed onto both of her hands to pull her to her feet gently. 

“Breathe, breathe, Sankta Alina. You are safe.” You assured her and she stared up at you with wide eyes. 

“Who are you?” She asked, almost belligerently. 

You opened your mouth to answer her question and General Kirigan let out a low hum from behind the two of you. 

“Yes, Lady y/n. Who are you, indeed?” He asked, walking towards you as if you were simply his prey. 

He couldn’t help the glee that settled in his stomach when he looked at you and Alina. His Sun Summoner had finally been found. He could have gotten by with just her. And then there you were. 

His Moon Summoner of legend. No one knew for certain if there was to be a Moon Summoner one day or if it was just tales of a desperate man, but The Black Heretic knew for certain that now he was indefinitely unstoppable. 

“Are you insane, General Kirigan?” You asked angrily and he came back to the present moment to see that you’d wrapped your arms around Alina’s shoulders and pulled her against your chest while she let out sighs of distress.

You weren’t taller than the girl, if anything you were a few inches shorter, and this was an amusing sight for him to watch. You snapped a few times in his direction and you shook your head. 

“You could’ve gotten her killed! Why didn’t you ride off alone with her?” You demanded and then you let go of the girl and rubbed your forehead, “Saints, Kirigan. She’s the Sun Summoner.”

You and him had always gotten along nicely, truth be told. You posed as the Queen’s Lady in Waiting, and whenever there were large events that the General would attend, you two often had friendly conversations. But you weren’t really just the Queen’s Lady in Waiting. And The General knew this. You served as the King’s personal assassin. 

You’d never had to do much more than keep an eye on the man, thankfully, because in instances like that, you’d have to use your power. The power you tried to keep hidden. 

When The King had heard word of the Sun Summoner being brought to the Capital, he’d sent you off to make sure that she and the General and his Grisha made it home safely. 

He was right for that evidently. 

The General didn’t seem to like your outburst and he approached the two of you and he reached up to twist a bit of your hair around his finger curiously. Silver strands glowed in the aftermath of your vicious outburst of power and he dropped the piece of your hair.  

“Were you ever going to tell anyone that you are the Moon Summoner?” He asked slowly and you felt Alina’s eyes on your face. 

You glanced up at the girl in front of you and then over your shoulder at Kirigan and you shook your head. 

“No. Because I didn’t want to just be a saint. I’m much more than that, as you can see.” You said quietly and he hummed. 

“Indeed you are, Lady y/n.” He said lowly and then he nodded to Alina, “She rides with me. Did you ride here on a horse?” He asked. 

You gave him a nod and pointed at a white horse in the distance, speckled with grey. 

“Excuse me? Can someone please explain what’s going on here?” Alina asked desperately and the two of you turned to her. 

He beat you to answer her and he held his hand out for Alina, waiting for her to tentatively grab onto it. 

“I have found my two lovely Saints now.  All is right in the world.” He said with a grin and you felt a sense of unease in your stomach upon seeing his toothy grin. 

-

The ride back to Os Alta was mostly silent. You had gone off ahead of the two on your horse, determined to get to the Capital as quickly as you could so that you could hurry yourself up to the Queen and spend the rest of the day in hiding. You knew what would happen if you ever revealed yourself. You’d be thrown to the wolves. Everyone would know your name, everyone would want to use you. From a young age, you’d learned to keep your powers a secret, and to only practice them alone. 

As soon as your horse rode up onto the gravel path in front of the Little Palace, you jumped from your still moving horse and you gathered your cloak up and quickly ran towards the Grand Palace. You stumbled inside and slammed the doors behind you, despite guards trying to filter out to get outside to meet the General and the Sun Summoner. You pushed your way through a few guards until you got to the grand staircase and bustled up the marble stairs. 

Once in the hallway, you smoothed down your riding clothes and walked quietly towards the King’s study. You tapped the door before you opened it and you stood in the doorway, peering in at the King and Prince Vasily who sat inside. You bowed your head respectfully and cleared your throat.

“Your Grace, I’ve delivered them safely. There were Fjerdans, just as you predicted, my Prince.” You reported and the two men nodded their heads. 

“Thank you, My Lady. Please. Clean yourself up and return yourself to my mother’s side at once.” Vasily ordered and you didn’t protest. 

Within the hour you’d gotten yourself thoroughly cleaned up and dressed with the help of a few servants, and you faithfully returned to your Queen’s side. 

You didn’t mind the Queen. Not at all, really. She was a bit of an airhead and as vain as can be, but you much preferred her company to her husband’s or even Vasily. You didn’t even mind Nikolai, though you hadn’t seen the boy in many, many years. 

You sat in silence next to the Queen for most of the afternoon as she had tea and read through her books, and you felt relieved to be away from the Grisha. Away from Alina Starkov. Away from General Kirigan. 

Just as the thought of all three had slipped your mind, The General begged for your attention once more and you and the Queen both turned your head to the doorway of the Library to see Kirigan standing there. He bowed his head respectfully to the queen and he bent his knee ever so slightly. 

“My Queen. May I steal your lovely Lady away for just a moment or two?” He asked, and the Queen raised an eyebrow.  

“Why? What business do you have with her?” She asked and you wanted to swear under your breath. He was going to tell her, surely. 

The reveal didn’t come, and instead, he gave a simple excuse. 

“I think Miss Starkov needs someone kind and.. well… perhaps non Grisha to speak to. This new life must be hard for her and it’s even harder when there’s only reminders trying to soothe you.” He explained calmly, but you could see the way his fingers fidgeted behind his back from how his forearms flexed underneath his kefta. 

“I suppose. Have her back by the time we finish dinner please.” She requested and the General nodded once and held his hand out for you. 

“After you, Lady y/n.” He said primly. 

You looked down at the Queen miserably and stood up. You held the skirts of your dress up off of the ground as you strode towards Kirigan, and you politely took his arm. 

He led you away from the library, and as soon as you were out of earshot of the Queen, he cleared his throat. 

“So. I believe a discussion is in order about your… abilities.” He said slowly and you shook your head. 

“No. I don’t want to talk about them. I want you to forget about them. Please. They’re mine and mine alone.” You said softly. 

Kirigan placed a hand at the small of your back and he very gently nudged you towards the doors that would take you outside to the Little Palace. 

“You are a gift to this world, y/n. Why hide it? You, Alina, and I could accomplish so much. We could tear down the fold, we could further expand it, we could bring the sun and the moon down to touch the earth. Yet you deny Ravka of these wonders. Why?” He asked and stepped outside with you. He carefully guided you down a small set of stairs and you shrugged. 

“I don’t know,” you said cautiously. Or perhaps it was fearfully. You weren’t sure. 

“Well, you’d be doing a great service to this great country by embracing who you are meant to be… what was it you called Alina? Ah yes. Sankta y/n.” He finished and you shuddered at the sound of it. 

There was power dripping from the title he gave you and you would be lying if you said it didn’t appeal to you somewhat. But you quickly shook the thought away from your head and instead decided to become fascinated with a fraying bit of lace on the bodice of your dress. 

“I don’t know, General.” You finally replied as the two of you walked into the Little Palace. 

“You’re destined for great things, my Moonbeam.” He said softly and then took one of your hands in his, stopping you in the middle of an empty hallway, “You don’t have to agree, but I would encourage you to accept your Grisha side and come here to train with Alina. We three are destined for something ethereal.” He said gently and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.  

Little butterflies erupted in your stomach and your mouth was suddenly dry. 

“I’ll think about it.” You whispered, and he brushed a thumb over your cheek as he pulled his hand away from your hair 

“Good girl. I know you’ll make the right decision.

-

Whether it was the right decision or not, you did in fact choose to join Kirigan. When you told him, he was elated. In his own way. His dark eyes gleamed proudly and he had taken you by the hand and promised you greatness, and truthfully, you believed he’d deliver. 

But training was simply kicking your ass.

You knew how to handle your powers, that wasn’t hard. But to advance them and use them in ways you’d never even imagined? That was hard. 

Typically, you’d spend most of your time around Kirigan as he insisted that he was best to train you, but sometimes you were stuck going down to the training yard or to Baghra. 

Baghra was a woman full of disdain and had a certain distaste for you, it seemed. Sometimes it was as if she was trying to scare you away from your training entirely. 

Like right now, for instance. 

You sat with your legs crossed in a shabby little wooden chair while the old woman paced the room in silence. You wanted to ask her what she was pacing for, but you didn’t want to face her wrath. So you instead watched her go back and forth, like a slow, unsteady pendulum. 

Finally her eyes met yours and she stopped moving, her thin lips becoming even thinner as she pursed them together. 

“I’m no longer sure what to do with you, admittedly.” She said, her words slow and well thought upon. 

You arched an eyebrow curiously and she only shrugged and sat across from you, folding her bony hands properly across her lap. 

“You know what you’re doing. That’s more than Alina can say. But you aren’t great. You won’t hardly be successful or powerful. Do you know why?” 

You didn’t verbally ask her to tell you why. You only leaned forward a bit and held your hands out questioningly. 

She tutted at you and then she leaned back a bit in her chair.

“You’re doing this for all the wrong reasons, so when you’re faced with the reality of the situation, you are no longer motivated to use your power accordingly. I think that would have a lot to do with The General, wouldn’t you think so?” She asked, almost accusingly. 

“The finger pointing is a bit juvenile, isn’t it, Baghra?” You asked in a flat tone, “If you have an accusation to make, best be direct.”

It was her turn to cock an eyebrow now and she let out a little scoff. 

“Alright then, little girl, let me be frank. You are doing this because of your attraction to the General. Not because you want to tear down The Fold. Alina may not be good with her power yet, but make no mistake; she wants only to liberate this country. What do you want? A moment of approval from a man? A pat on the head like a kitten?” 

You slowly rose from the chair and you towered over the woman, shaking your head, your jaw setting tersely. 

“Preposterous. You cannot possibly fathom why I am doing this.”

“Correct, girl. I cannot fathom what motivates you. I never claimed to. All I claimed to know is what you’re doing it for. Tell me this: do you believe that this will bring you the affection you crave?” 

You stared her down incredulously before you shook your head.

“This is absurd. I am leaving.” You snapped and turned sharply. 

You stormed towards the door, your fingertips vibrating just slightly, and when you looked down, silvery light made your skin light up ever so slightly. You grit your teeth and pushed open her door and walked out, making sure to slam it behind you. 

You didn’t crave his affection. You didn’t want a pat on the head.

You walked off up to the courtyard, lost in angry thought. 

Come to think of it though, The Fold had hardly crossed your mind during the weeks of training you’d been subjected to. Kirigan never spoke of it when you two were together. Most of the time you’d spent with him was just… casual conversation between two friends. Sometimes he’d give you his hand and allow you to mess around with your power with the aid of his amplification. 

But otherwise, it wasn’t much else more. 

You slowed your steps until you were stopped entirely near the doors to the Little Palace and you blinked a few times. 

There was no way that Baghra was right. But she wasn’t really wrong, either. 

Why were you doing this? 

That was the question that kept you up that night. 

-

You laid in your bed across the hall from the Queen’s room and you tossed and turned for the whole two hours you were laying down. 

Your mind raced relentlessly, replaying what Baghra had earlier said, her words echoing like church bells in your head. 

You groaned frustratedly and you pushed yourself up out of bed and reached out in the dim light of the moon to grab onto your robe that hung from one of the posts on your bed. You tossed it around your shoulders and slid your arms into the thin sleeves and tied it up tightly. You moved your hair over one shoulder and slid on a pair of flat, slipper-like shoes, and you rushed out of your bedroom. 

You’d go wake Alina. That’s what you’d do. Talk to her about this entire thing, hear what she would have to say about it. You sighed quietly and walked down through the winding halls of the Grand Palace until you reached the double doors that led out to the Little Palace. You padded out over the grounds and you glanced around cautiously, chewing on your bottom lip. 

When you finally got inside of the Little Palace, you walked determinedly down the hallway towards Alina’s room before you stopped at a crossroads. There was hardly any light in the halls at this time of the night, yet down the hallway that held Kirigan’s room, there was a sliver of light under his door. You glanced back at the hallway that would take you to Alina and you thought for a moment before you turned and walked hurriedly through a hallway. 

You didn’t even think or have half the mind to knock before you pushed open the doors to General Kirigan’s room. 

If the much taller man was surprised to see you intruding in his room, he didn’t make any indication of such a feeling. Instead, he just eyed you from his position, bent over his war table. You took a step inside his room and closed the doors behind you, letting out a long sigh. 

“Do you do this often to The Royal Family? Or are unannounced intrusions reserved for me?” He asked and then looked back down at his table. 

When you didn’t answer, he flickered his dark eyes back up to you and looked you up and down a few times, and suddenly you felt very naked underneath his gaze, despite being clothed.  

“I just… I…” you trailed off and suddenly felt very foolish to barge into his personal chambers without so much as a knock and you looked down at the ground. 

“You just what?” He demanded, but his tone wasn’t harsh. Only curious. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know. I intended on rousing Alina but I don’t know what happened. I just… found myself here.” You answered, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 

He continued to stare at you for a while and then he shook his head once, reaching out to beckon you forward.

“Well. Are you going to stand by the doors for the remainder of the night? Come join me over here.” He suggested and you slowly made your way across the floor to him. 

You felt a pang of nervousness in your chest. A new feeling around him. Usually you felt much more at ease around The Darkling, but now you just felt so small. 

You finally rounded the table to stand at his side, and you met his eyes which had followed you from the door to his side. 

“Would you like me to make you some tea?” He asked and reached out to twist a piece of your hair around his finger, a habit that he had made within the last few weeks. 

“No, I don’t think that would help much. But thank you.”

He looked down at you and he let out a sigh, “I am not sure why you came to me, then. I cannot lull you to sleep, my sweet moonbeam.” 

His words sent you fumbling for your own and you blinked a few times. You only shrugged in lieu of speaking and looked down at his war table. 

You watched him lift his arm out of your periphery and nearly jumped when you felt his hand gently touch the side of your face. He carefully turned your face towards his and he cradled your face against his palm. His touch was gentle, and you wondered if he’d ever been this delicate with anything in his life before. 

“Would you like that? Is that why you came to me? Did you want me to lull you to sleep? Soothe all your worries away?” He asked slowly. 

Though his words could easily have been mocking, his tone was light and kind and full of something you placed between want and concern. 

“I don’t know.” You whispered and nuzzled your cheek into the palm of his hand. 

He clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth, “That isn’t really an answer.” He commented. 

You knew it wasn’t. And you knew he was far too sharp to think otherwise. You couldn’t fool him, and you knew that. He could read you like an open book, he always could, even when you two were simple acquaintances. But you couldn’t really call yourselves acquaintances now. Could you even say friends? 

He trained you often, and much of your time was spent with the General, much more than with the Queen these days. He knew so much about you. Some from being told by you, some from guessing and confirmation from you, but mostly what he knew about you went unspoken. He knew you were lonely, he didn’t need to ask you that. He’d deduced it quickly after your time spent with him. 

You only kept your eyes on his nose and his thumb idly brushed back and forth against the side of your cheekbone, the contact making your skin tingle underneath his touch. 

You finally closed your eyes and focused on the faint sweeping noises the pad of his thumb made across your skin and a little sigh escaped your lips pleasantly. 

“What keeps you awake?” He asked very quietly, and you let out an equally quiet hum. 

“Many things. Perhaps I just don’t belong here. I lack purpose. I’m better off how I was before.”

His fingers curled around the back of your head and he pulled you a little bit closer to him. 

“You lack no such thing.” He protested. 

“Then what is my purpose? To help you tear down The Fold with Alina? To become a living Saint? I don’t want that. I don’t want to become a bedtime story. I was meant for more. I was meant for the things they leave out of bedtime stories.” You whispered and you could’ve sworn you heard his breath hitch. 

“Your purpose does not align with the Sun Summoner’s. Indeed you are correct. You were meant for more. She walks in the light. She walks with the light. You wait in the dark, you strike from the darkness where no one watches. You and I are more alike than you could ever imagine.” He said just above a whisper, but the quietness of his voice did nothing to conceal the intensity of which he spoke with. 

“I don’t know what I am.” You breathed and opened your eyes only to find his just inches away from yours. 

“You are the silver flicker of light in the dark and then you are the darkness.” He answered earnestly. 

You closed your eyes again, and as soon as you did, you were swept forward into his arms. He pulled your head against the center of his chest and wrapped his other arm around your middle. There was something oddly protective about his embrace and he ran his fingers through the hair at the back of your head. 

“Let me lull you to sleep, little one. You need a reprieve from your mind.” He insisted. 

You gave him a permissive nod against his chest and he very slowly walked you away from the table and he sunk down into an armchair. He pulled you down onto his lap and he lifted your legs up over the side of the chair. You curled your head against his chest much like a cat and you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, your legs dangling over the side of the chair. 

You took in his scent as you buried your face against his clothes and were comforted to find that he smelled of leather and something of embers, and then something sweet yet faint that you couldn’t place. 

You opened your eyes when he grabbed one of your arms away from his neck and laid it against your chest before he reached up with the same hand and traced his fingertips against your skin, and a warm feeling washed over you. Everywhere his fingers touched, a silvery blue trail of light followed underneath your skin. 

“Sleep, little one.” He cooed and you closed your eyes again, obeying him. 

The last thing you remembered before sleep overcame you was his voice above your head, muttering what you recognized as sweet nothings in his native Ravkan tongue. 

He had indeed lulled you right to sleep. 

-

In the days after you had fallen asleep on him, The General had been very insistent that you were with him for the majority of your day. He claimed your skill set was of use to him, and truthfully, he was right. Even before you were his Moon Summoner, you were the King’s assassin, and you didn’t need your power for the things you’d accomplished there. 

Around his entourage and Corporalki, you were treated as if you were his most esteemed soldier. But behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, his intense and hard demeanor was gone and he was softer with you, kinder. He always had been kind to you, but this was different. It was a different type of kindness. 

The morning after you had fallen asleep on him, you awoke in his bed, the black sheets tucked around you with care. He hadn’t been in the bed next to you, but you hadn’t expected that of him. He was an early riser. 

You wondered if he had slept next to you at any point during the night. You couldn’t remember. In fact, you didn’t even remember him moving you to his bed. You wanted to ask him if he had, but it seemed listless. Even if he had, it hadn’t mattered. Or did it? Sharing a bed was typically something you only did with someone you trusted, and Kirigan didn’t seem like someone who’d just open his bed up to anyone. 

It was the best sleep you’d had in quite a long time, that was for certain. 

It was just past noon when you finally emerged from The Grand Palace and made your way to The Little Palace. You had pulled your hair up into an intricate braid and you fiddled with the ends of it as you walked. Once inside, you spotted Alina walking down the hall and you hurried up to her and gently grabbed her arm and gave her a little smile. 

She didn’t return the smile, instead she looked anxious and unhappy. You pulled her off to the side and stopped walking, eyeing her with concern. 

“Has something happened?” You asked and she sighed, a long sigh that had sounded like it had been pent up for a long time. 

“I’ve been informed I’m to showcase my… powers in front of everyone during The Winter Fete.” She said anxiously. 

You raised an eyebrow and then shook your head a few times, “Who told you this?” You asked, feeling a bit of frustration. If Alina was to showcase her talents, then surely you’d be asked to as well, and that was specifically not something you wanted to do. 

“Kirigan. David, too. Genya. All of them. I don’t want to be presented like a show pony.” She stated and then you sympathetically patted her arm. 

“I understand. No one does.” You agreed and she let out a short laugh and pulled her arm away from your gentle grasp. 

“Well. Why don’t you work your magic and tell Aleksander to call it off.” She suggested. 

You blinked in confusion and then you tipped your head to the side. 

“Aleksander? I’m afraid I don’t know an Aleksander.” You replied, eyes searching her face. 

“Kirigan. It’s his name. Aleksander. Did he not tell you?” She asked you as if it was one of the most common things to have known. 

“No?” 

Ouch.

In all the time you’d spent with The General getting closer to him, he’d never once told you his first name. He didn’t talk much about himself, and when he did it was vague, ambiguous. Everything about himself was left up to interpretation. 

He liked it that way, you noticed. It left more room for mystery. It kept anyone from crossing the brooding man, because simply no one knew definitely just who he was or just how ruthless or constrained he could be. 

“Oh. Well then perhaps don’t mention you heard it from me. I’ve got to get down to Baghra. Please just… do what you are able to about this situation. I am not ready to be a spectacle in front of Ravka.” She pleaded and then walked off. 

You stood against the wall for a moment, listening to her footsteps echo until they were gone entirely. An eclectic range of frustrations began to make your fingertips tingle and you pushed away from the wall. You walked with intent to The General’s room, your brow knitting together in annoyance. 

His door was the only thing that made you come to a stop and before you could decide against it, you pushed it open and stepped inside of his room. 

He didn’t have to look up to know who it was. You were the only one that dared come unannounced, after all. 

He sat at his desk on the far end of the room with a thin parchment letter in his hand and he didn’t tear his dark gaze off of the paper as he held his hand out in your direction. He outstretched his pointer and middle fingers and curled them in the air at you in a ‘come here’ motion and you did. 

You stomped petulantly towards his desk and you laid your hand down firmly on the desktop with a quiet thump. 

Now, you had his full attention. He lifted his inky eyes towards you slowly and he took in your appearance before he slowly laid the letter down. 

“You are upset.” He observed and you simply scoffed and folded your arms across your chest.

“What gave it away?” 

“Perhaps the stomping like a child. Or maybe it’s the fact that you can’t hide your emotions on your face. Do you intend on telling me why you’re cross? Or did you have another reason for this visit?” He asked and leaned backwards in his chair casually. 

“I don’t know, Aleksander. Maybe I just wanted to come in here and pout.” You snapped. 

Now it was his turn to fold his arms across his chest and he looked up at you with amusement, the same kind of amusement a parent would watch a fractious child with. 

“Ah, you’ve been speaking with Miss Starkov, it seems.” 

You stared at him in disbelief. That was it? That was all he had to say? You nearly stomped your foot down on the hard floor but refrained, not wanting his amusement to grow. 

“Why wouldn’t you have told me your name as well?” You asked, and you hadn’t realized how stupid you sounded until just now, but you had no intention of backing down at this point. 

“Would that have pleased you, lapushka?” He asked with a little grin and you snorted, turning your head away from him. 

“I don’t care. It’s your name. You do what you want with it. I just figured perhaps we were closer than that.”

“Why do you figure that? Because you fell asleep in my arms like a little kitten? Or because you woke in my bed?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach and you turned towards him, a frown covering your lips. You didn’t answer him, you simply stared disdainfully into his caliginous eyes. His words had hit you like a slap across the face, so real that you almost wanted to hold your cheek. 

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say you were unjust in feeling that way. I just asked if that was your reasoning to figure we were close.” He replied once he realized you weren’t going to speak. He clicked his tongue and rose up from his chair and stalked towards you, reaching out with a hand to grab your chin. 

“My ambiguity is one of my greatest layers of armor.” He started. 

But you cut him off. 

“Right. But you’ll tell the first pretty girl that catches your eye your name and give up that ambiguity. Very selective of you.” 

He unfurled his finger from his grip on your chin and he tapped your lips to silence you. 

“Sometimes, to soften someone to your liking, you must strip away a piece of your armor. Miss Starkov is apprehensive at best regarding her situation. You require no such softening.” He explained and you took notice of the fact that he hadn’t bothered to move his finger away from your lips. 

“You trust me, and for that I am lucky and I am grateful. I needn’t reveal bits of myself to you just to make you trust in me. You simply just do. Little Moon Saint, I don’t need to take off my armors around you. You take them off for me whenever we are alone, whether you realize it or not.”

You shook your head just slightly and gazed up at him, warmth gathering under his touch on your face. 

“I know hardly anything about you.” You whispered, “How can I be removing your armor when I know nothing about you still?”

He shushed you and he leaned closer to your face, to where you could feel the air coming softly from his nose and you closed your eyes for a brief second before opening them again. 

“Most things about me go unspoken. I like it that way. You don’t need to know my history to know me. You don’t need me to beg you to trust me. You don’t question the deaths caused by my hands, and you know very well I don’t question the lives taken by yours. I told you. We are more alike than you could ever imagine.” He explained, his voice lowering, almost in reverence now, “Everything inside of me wants for you.” 

This, you weren’t expecting. 

And if that was a surprise to hear, it was even more of a surprise to feel his lips crash down against your own. 

-

The day of The Winter Fete came quickly. Thankfully, Aleksander had shared your sentiments in not wanting to have you display your power for the party. In fact, he was quite adamant on you being a secret kept from the rest of the world away from the palaces. You were thankful for that. 

You’d practically been inseparable from him in the weeks since he’d kissed you. He’d kissed you a handful of times in the time since then, too. Somewhere in the realm of the things that went unspoken but were simply known between the two of you, it had become evident that there were strong feelings between both of you. 

You hardly shied away from those feelings. If anything you were diving headfirst into them, which it seemed he was doing the same, because he’d insisted a handful of times in the last few weeks that you stay and sleep with him in his room. 

You liked to think that you cured his loneliness in the same way he had cured yours but you hadn’t had any confirmation on your daydream. 

So, there you sat, perched upon his desk while he nimbly unboxed a long, black gown for you. He held it up for you to see and you hummed approvingly. It was black with threads of dark blue and silver embroidered onto it in swirls and star like patterns. You smiled up at him and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What? No kefta for me? Do you think me to be delicate?” You teased and Aleksander let out a slow laugh before he laid the dress down on his bed and walked to you. He gently pulled you off of the desk and turned you around. He undid the buttons on the back of the current dress you wore and he tapped the back of your neck. 

“You are anything but delicate. Trust me. As much as I’d like to see you in a kefta, this isn’t the time for you to be revealed. You must keep up appearances, Lady y/n.” He explained and moved back only a step once your dress was undone. 

You blushed a bit and held the loose dress up to your chest, hesitating to take off your dress in front of him. 

Aleksander sensed this and he placed his hands gently on your elbows, “Would you like me to give you the room so that you can change in privacy?” He asked kindly, brushing his thumbs against your elbows. 

You shook your head. It’s not like you really minded, but you still had a set of nerves at the thought of undressing in front of the man you adored. 

You let out a very quiet, shaky breath and you let the dress fall away from your shoulders and you slowly stepped out of it, leaving you in only your underwear before him. You didn’t dare turn around, for if you did, Aleksander would’ve seen the horrific blush that covered your cheeks now. 

His hands found yours as they lay at your sides and he gently interlocked your fingers before he leaned forward and pressed a gossamer light kiss against the nape of your neck. You shivered under his lips and you could feel them curl into a smug smile against your skin. 

“I didn’t take you for the shy type, little one.” He murmured and very slowly lifted his lips away from your neck. 

You didn’t respond to him, you simply gave his hands a light squeeze, but much to your dismay, he pulled away and you heard him walk away from you. There was a swish of fabric behind you and then he was back, gently placing a hand on your waist to move you towards him a bit. He didn’t turn you around, and you were thankful for that.

Instead, he reached around you and held your dress in front of you for you to step into it. You were used to being dressed, it was common practice for you and had been for years because of your place at court. But this felt different, and though he was dressing you, you couldn’t help but feel as if Aleksander was at the core of it all, stripping you completely naked. There was a different kind of vulnerability to letting him dress you. 

You stepped into the dress and he slowly pulled it up over your hips and you slipped your arms into the sleeves and he lifted the bodice of the dress up over your shoulders completely and pulled it taut before he began to button up the long row of buttons at your back. After the last button was done up, he tied the ribbon at your waist tightly and then he encircled you in his arms from behind, tugging you backwards until you were pulled flush against his chest. 

“I wish desperately that I could parade you on my arm all night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a color look so lovely on anyone.” He whispered, resting his chin down against your shoulder. 

You leaned the side of your head against his and you placed your hands down on top of his wrists. 

“And I wish that you could kiss me breathless in a room, far away from the party, but alas, it seems we have duties to attend to.”

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He asked playfully and with a hint of reluctance, pulled away from you. 

You finally willed yourself to turn around and face him. 

A look of reverence crossed his face and he reached out to cup the side of your face in one hand. The look in his lightless eyes was unreadable, but you got the sense his stare was altogether pleasant. 

“Tell me something.” He murmured and reached out to brush the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“Hmm?”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, though you felt like he was asking something entirely different. The look in his eye told you that he didn’t want to know if you found him to be trustworthy. His words unspoken were louder than the ones he’d verbalized. 

No, he meant to ask ‘do you trust me with your heart?’

You searched his face for a long moment before you finally nodded once and you watched as a flicker of relief splashed across his face, and for a second, you swore his eyes sparkled with tears that had been long since blinked away. 

He leaned in to kiss your forehead once and he dropped his hand away from your face and walked to the wardrobe next to his bed. He pulled on the rest of his clothing, save for his kefta, and you sunk down on a little sofa next to his bed, pulling your legs up underneath you as you watched him. 

He adjusted the collar of his shirt and as he did, the sound of footsteps distracted you from watching the man get ready. 

“Ivan. My kefta.” He called out, but once you looked past him, you could see that Ivan was not in the room. Only Alina. 

She took his heavy kefta off of his war table and approached him with hesitancy, not saying a word. 

When he turned around, his face changed in surprise and he shook his head once. 

“You’re not Ivan.” He remarked. 

Alina looked down at the kefta in her arms and shifted a bit. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

“Do I sense a little disdain for my Heartrender?” Aleksander asked, clearly amused now. 

You lifted your hand up to rest against the side of the sofa and moved close to the edge, perching yourself to stand. 

“You know, once you get to know him, he’s actually quite funny.” He added and you very slowly rose to your feet, your dress swishing. 

It didn’t rouse either of their attentions. 

“I bet you find volcra hilarious.” Alina quipped, eyes transfixed intently on Aleksander. 

He gave her a smile and she nodded to the kefta in her arms. 

“May I?” She asked, unfolding the thick garment. 

“Thank you.” He replied and turned around, allowing the Sun Summoner to slide the kefta around his shoulders. 

You eyed them warily and stayed silent, your teeth searching for a bit of your cheek you could bite down on. 

“I hear you were able to focus and split light without the gloves.” He spoke, eyeing you as he got his kefta on with her help. 

“I appreciate the gesture, though.” She responded, and you pressed your lips together. 

You stepped in front of Aleksander and pulled the lapels of his kefta forward to adjust the coat, your brow furrowing only slightly. You didn’t miss the amused smile that made the corners of his lips curl upwards before he turned back towards Alina.

“Well, they were only a safeguard, really. In case of nerves.” He informed her, and you watched as the girl leaned slightly closer to Aleksander. 

Half of you had made peace with the fact that you and Aleksander didn’t make it incredibly public knowledge that you… were together? Was that even the right way to describe your situation? You didn’t know how to answer that. Yet, the other half of you, despite clarification on where you stood with him, wanted to pull him backwards and stand between the two of them. You almost gagged in spite of yourself. Or maybe it was in spite of them.

“I imagine there are few gatherings in Keramzin that involve such… spectacle.” He commented down at her and you wanted to speak up. Make them aware that you were still in the room. 

No. Don’t. You told yourself. 

“None, in fact.” Alina answered. 

She peered over his shoulder and caught your eyes. You weren’t sure of what your face looked like, but she widened her eyes and quickly moved away from him.

“But I’m actually not that nervous! I may have considered throwing myself down the stairs to get out of it once or twice.”  She left his bed chambers and much to your antipathy, he followed her. 

You stood back for a moment as they continued to chat before you gathered the skirts of your dress and walked through the doorway of his bed chambers and brushed past the two of them, squaring your shoulders as you passed by. You slipped out of the room with a sigh of annoyance and you walked down the hallway. You listened to the taps of your boots against the marble floors and you puffed out your cheeks. 

Jealousy wasn’t something that came naturally or easily to you. You’d always been sure of yourself, aware that you were likely the prettiest face in the room, confident in your abilities and powers. You were almost sick to admit that perhaps you were jealous of Alina. 

She got to be by his side tonight. She got to wear a kefta just like him. She got to be shown off to the rest of the world as Ravka’s saving grace. 

You didn’t want that for yourself. Not really. But you didn’t want it for her, either, selfishly. 

Did you even have a right to feel jealous? It’s not like Aleksander had explicitly said that you were his and he was yours. You felt fair in assuming such, but then again, you’d always been a little too sure of yourself. 

You simply shook the thought away and headed off to report to the Queen. 

-

“Oh, it’s nothing, moya tsaritsa. Only a little headache. I’ll be off to find a healer and back to the party before you know it.” 

Lie. 

You felt bad lying to the Queen as you rose from your seat next to her and scurried out of the room. You’d made yourself scarce all day, with the exception of being with the Queen, and you planned on keeping the pattern. 

You just didn’t want to watch Aleksander and Alina. 

You walked out to the courtyard and weaved around horses and guests until you were on the outskirts of the palace grounds. You were thankful that you could finally breathe without sharing the breath with someone else in your proximity. The cool evening’s air swirled around what skin of yours was exposed and it chilled your cheeks, tinting them pink. You flexed your fingers a bit and tapped imaginary points in the air at your sides, little fissures of silvery light appearing underneath your fingertips. 

You tried your best to be apathetic about everything that you’d felt during the day, and you kept walking, approaching a thick bramble of trees.

A loud scream escaped your lips when you felt a cold hand clasp around your wrist and you yanked your wrist back, stumbling backwards on the uneven path. You fell back and caught yourself on your elbows, preparing your hands to summon the moon. Your eyes settled upon a head of white hair and you furiously widened your eyes.

“Baghra!” You yelled and looked down at your dress. It was dusty from the dirt and you could feel a little tear in your sleeve, just above your elbow, “What is the meaning of this?” You asked angrily. 

You climbed to your feet and stared down at the old woman, your lips tugging downwards in a heavy frown. 

“Don’t look at me like that, girl. You need to get away from here as quickly as you can.” She stated venomously and you gaped at her. You shook your head with a dry laugh and you went to speak but she cut you off instantly. 

“You are being used, you stupid girl. Aleksander. He is using you. Just the same way he is using the sun girl. I am warning you, y/n, please. You must go. I will tell her the same thing but hear me now-“

“What are you going on about?” You asked snappily, your eyes narrowing on her. 

“You and Alina Starkov are but pawns in Aleksander’s game. He does not mean to liberate Ravka from The Fold. He does not mean to create heroes out of the three of you. Has he promised you otherwise?” 

“No. He hardly speaks of The Fold to me.” You replied defensively. Your hand formed fists at your side and you could feel your fingers begin to thrum with the electric feeling of the moon pooling within them. 

“No? Perhaps he’s just too busy distracting you with sweet words and little touches? Keeping you from your lessons, insisting you don’t need them, only to drown you with his attention. Making you feel special and perhaps even loved?”

You didn’t respond, and your silence became her indication to keep speaking. 

“Trust me, stupid girl. He’s making Alina feel the same exact way.” She finished and then she shook her head, “Do what you will, Lady y/n. You’ve always known this to be your home. I understand it must be hard to fathom leaving, but if you want to live free of chains, you’ll go. I’ve arranged safe passage out of Os Alta tonight. If you wish to join Alina, then you’ll meet her and I down the hill behind The Grand Palace. Half past midnight.” 

You stared at her in disbelief and you wanted to argue, but she had already turned and retreated back into the trees, and you swore that you watched shadows engulf her.   

-

You were only human at your very core. 

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you cried into your hands on your balcony. Only human at your very core… right?

Who knew if Baghra was right? At least about Aleksander’s intentions. This isn’t what bothered you. 

“He’s making Alina feel the same exact way.” Her words echoed in your head and only made you cry harder, and you let out a frustrated groan and you hit the side of your head with the heel of your hand, as if the impact would knock the thought right out of your mind. 

It would explain her behavior earlier that day. It would easily explain how she, too, knew his name- and before you. It explained the way she gazed up at him; dreamily, as if she’d fallen head over heels already. 

You weren’t going to leave Os Alta, that was for certain. You couldn’t. You adored your Queen and you hadn’t known a life outside of the Ravkan Capital. You’d just learn to avoid Aleksander. Perhaps that was a good thing. It would cease your distractions from the Queen and King. 

“I’ve never seen you cry before. I don’t like it.” 

You jumped at the sound of Aleksander’s voice behind you and you wrapped your arms around yourself and you shook your head. 

“Go away please.” You whispered. 

You didn’t really want him to go away. Not deep down, at least. He probably knew that, too. He knew you better than anyone.

Hands gently grabbed your arms and coaxed you away from the iron railing of your balcony and you were being turned around before you could protest it. You didn’t meet his eyes when you were moved to face him. 

“I have been made aware that Baghra sought you out. I don’t know what was said, but I’m sure I can only assume it had something to do with planting doubt in your mind based on the way she was sure you’d have run far away from here by now. But you aren’t a runner. I know that.”

His words made more tears spill over your cheeks and you still refused to look at him until he tapped underneath your chin and tilted your head backwards slightly. 

“I care not about your intentions with The Fold, Aleksander. I said I trusted you and I meant it. Perhaps that’s where I went wrong though. Because I do care that you were stringing me along at the same time as Alina. If you needed something of me, it would’ve been best to lay it out on the table. Not bury me in your sweet kisses and words until I was nothing but a mindless slave with no questions for you.” 

“Is that what you believe you are to be to me? A mindless slave?” He asked and you simply shrugged. 

You expected an angry outburst, you expected him to chastise you loudly, but it never came. Instead, he took your face in his hands and he swiped his thumbs underneath your wet eyes to rid you of the tears on your cheeks. 

“You are strong and you are intelligent. No one could make a mindless slave out of you. Not even I. My kisses and gentle words are reserved for you and you alone. Not Alina. Never Alina. You, however. Oh, how do I begin? Ever since I watched you kill that Fjerdan, I knew that I had to have you by my side. One way or another. Though, as a lover was preferable.

You are disarming in the most wonderful way, and though you may not know all of my secrets yet, you have already released them from their chambers. I’m tempted to call you a thief with the way you’ve stolen my heart away, but if I’m to be honest with you, y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn't hand it to you willingly.” He murmured earnestly. His eyes shone with his own tears, and though they never fell, the message was still there. 

You fell forward over his chest and laid your head on the center of it and his arms weaved around you protectively. Defensively. Adoringly. 

He showered kisses atop your head and you two stood in silence for a very long time like that. 

Perhaps you’d be burned for trusting him this way. In every way. Perhaps you wouldn’t. Only time would tell. But in that moment, all that mattered was that he was there. Questions about Baghra’s words could wait. They weren’t meant to be spoken now. No words were meant to be spoken now. 

Until he did finally speak. 

“My love, I do hate to ruin such tender moments,  but I’m in desperate need of your help. There will be plenty of time for me to make up for every single tear spilled from your pretty eyes this evening, and that I promise you. However, your skill set is needed.” He said softly, his tone apologetic. 

You stayed against his chest for a while longer and then finally nodded, “Of course. Whatever you need, Aleksander.”

-

You walked hand in hand with The Darkling down the candlelit hallway, deep within the Palace, and you two were accompanied by one of his Squallers, Zoya. 

Aleksander had filled you in quickly. Alina had been kidnapped and there had been an attempt on her life. You couldn’t help but feel relieved that you hadn’t been the one on his arm all night now. They now held a man associated with the crime deep underneath the Palace, and they needed him to talk. 

That’s where you came in. 

“Has he talked?” He asked, his hand tightening around yours in a manner you could only imagine was protective.  

“A lot of lies,” Zoya answered, “Ivan’s with him.” 

You entered the room with him and Zoya and your eyes fell upon Ivan’s intimidating figure standing tall behind a small, pudgy man who was bound to a chair. 

“I’ve been swindled,” The man said simply, desperation twinging his words, “hoodwinked.”

Aleksander didn’t seem to care and he squeezed your hand once more. 

“My guards tell me that they caught you fleeing the scene of the crime.” He spoke. 

You rolled your shoulders back and stood tall, carefully releasing your hand. If you were to get answers out of this man, he had to fear you. You didn’t much command fear while clutching your General’s hand. 

“Yes. I followed them.” The man insisted. 

“Followed whom?” Aleksander prompted, lifting his head curiously. 

“They come from the other side of The Fold. From the start, they seemed, just, a bit off to me, so when they left our stage, at the fete, I followed them. To see what they were up to, and at the time that I walked into that room, they were gone and… Saints, it was… unspeakable. So I ran… I…” 

You snorted and then you stepped forward, “No, that’s not the truth.” You interjected and then looked to Ivan with a raised eyebrow. 

“He did cross The Fold with the others,” Ivan began, “The rest were lies.” 

You gave a satisfied nod and you looked up at Aleksander who swept his hand out for you, inviting you to step closer to the man. 

The man began to insist that he wasn’t lying, but you and everyone else in that room knew, you couldn’t lie to a Heartrender. 

You stepped behind the man and you laid your hands on his temples, “Do you want to tell the truth to The General?” You asked lowly. He didn’t respond. 

“Do you know we keep records of everyone who crosses The Fold?” Aleksander began, and then rattled off the known passages for the evening. 

“You didn’t cross with them. Did you?” You asked, leaning down close to his ear. 

He shuddered but he didn’t answer. You looked up at Aleksander who nodded and you closed your eyes. Your fingertips began to glow and they grew so cold that they burned, you pressed them tightly against the man’s skin and he clenched his teeth. You eased off a bit and then cleared your throat. 

“You have another way across The Fold. What is it?” You asked slowly. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He protested, but Ivan cut him off. 

“He does.” 

You sighed and brought forth your power again, this time a bit more and he winced sharply as the bitter cold from your fingers cut into his skin and left it frostbitten. 

“I’m an entertainer!” He exclaimed, “Oskar, Oskar Krepkov!” He shouted as you pushed more of your light forth, watching his veins turn white and stony underneath your touch, just as they’d been filled with moonstone. 

You eased off when Aleksander came towards the two of you and lifted up the man’s sleeve. 

“Well that is certainly entertaining. You are The Conductor,” he said darkly, revealing scars of tallies up his inner forearm, “Arken Visser, are you not?“ he pulled away from the man and gave you a nod again as he walked away.

“You smuggle Grisha out of my palace! You help them abandon the war effort.”

“No, I deal in-“ he was cut off by a sudden sharp pain in his head, caused by you pressing the heels of your hands to the hardened veins over his temples. You closed your eyes tightly and worked to spread the unforgiving cold of your light through his head, feeling it spread through his veins while Aleksander questioned the man about a woman named Nina. 

You zoned back in as Aleksander finished, and you opened your eyes to look up at him. 

“…might that have something to do with you, Mr. Visser?” He asked, in reference to Nina’s disappearance. 

“No.” He answered shakily, his teeth now beginning to chatter. You were lowering his body temperature by now surely, and his lips began to glaze over, tinted with blue. 

“I don’t!” He protested again, his voice shaky. Ivan confirmed this and the man let out a shaking sigh, “See?”

“May I interject?” You asked and looked up at Aleksander who nodded once. 

“By all means, Darling. Speak your mind.” He said with a little grin licking at the corners of his lips. 

“You might want to begin talking, Mr. Visser. Your heart is slowing and you are freezing from the inside out. The light of the moon is a cold one.” You whispered and you felt him stiffen under your hands. 

Aleksander had a proud smirk on his face and he glanced back down at Arken. 

“My guess, you struck a deal with these three thieves to kidnap Alina Starkov. But you have a stronger relationship with a certain West Ravkan general, who has notions of ruling his own country. So long as The Fold separates him from us- darling, I think you’re being too gentle with him,” he added for you, and then walked around the chair, brushing past you gently, “So you made another deal. You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin.”

You took a deep breath and summoned more of your power, the beams of light from your hands beginning to sear into the skin of his temples.

“That’s right!” He cried, in obvious pain, “The prize to bring her back to Ketterdam was a million! Split four ways. But Zlatan offered me the same number… to kill her, so,” he let out another scream as you tightened your grip on his head and Aleksander’s eyes widened, “you give me half that, I’ll get revenge for you. I can get close to Zlatan!” He tried to bargain, but he didn’t have much left to bargain with. 

Aleksander looked at Ivan and Zoya pointedly and they began to walk away. 

“No.” Aleksander answered and then looked up at you, “I think I’ll handle that myself. And I think… I’ll let my lovely Moon Summoner handle you.” 

He gave you a short nod and stood with his hands behind his back and you nodded back at him. 

Arken began to scream and protest between the chattering of his teeth and you rolled your shoulders back, and just like the Fjerdan that attacked Alina, you shot a bright beam of silver light through his temples and let go, watching as his head fell back limply on his neck. 

Aleksander stepped towards you just as you stepped away from the now dead man, and he grasped your freezing wrists, pulling you to his chest.

“Promise me,” he began, leaning down close to your face, “Promise me that you’ll stand by my side forever. We will be revered, formidable. I will give you a crown, I will give you my love, I will give you whatever you ask for, if you promise me forever.” He pleaded and stared down into your eyes desperately. 

There was nothing that you wanted more in that moment and you studied his black eyes for a long time, searching for any sense of trickery within them, but all you found was the same want that you wore within your own eyes. 

Perhaps you’d be burned for trusting him this way. In every way. Perhaps you wouldn’t. Only time would tell. All you could do was accept his offer now, and give him your payment in the form of three words.  

“I promise. Forever.”

---