#Alexander morozova x reader

[padfootagain]

Running

Yet another character I’m writing for, I guess…

Answering an anonymous request even if I was planning on writing something like this anyway: ‘aaahhh i saw that you were opening request for the darkling but i dont have any original ideas for him i just want to comfort him and have a softer aleksander idk i JUST NEED COMFORT like having the darkling breaking down over something and the reader comforting him and just loads of fluff i need him so baaad’

Thank you so much for your request, anon! Changed it a little bit, but I hope you’ll like it anyway!

Going to use Ben as the physical description for him although I’m going to use some character traits that are a mix of book and show, because… you know me by now, do I really need to give you a reason for this artistic choice? I don’t think so.

I loved the idea in the book (that was not used enough in the show in my opinion) that Aleksander’s amplifying abilities were a threat for his life, because he was a target for Grisha too. So… I used it a bit here, I love that detail. Adds to the whole tragic of his character, I reckon.

Anyways! I hope you all like this fic! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings: Blood, mentions of war and violence, angst, hurt/comfort, pretty sad…

Summary: After a particularly violent battle, only a handful of soldiers remain. The aftermath is difficult for everyone, while you travel across the country in search of a safe place. Even the most stoic ones can show weakness sometimes…

Word count: 3472

Masterlist

It was cold.

It was dark, but that was a good thing, it meant that you were hidden.

It was cold, strong wind coming from the Fjerdan border up North, blowing and howling through the tall pine trees.

It was night time, stars lighting up the sky, a shy moon only in its first quarter. So far up North, there could have been Northern Lights. But not tonight.

Tonight was for grieving, not admiring.

You were exhausted. You were in shock. You were still bleeding.

And yet, there was a man before you, a friend, Andrei was his name. Lying in the young snow, tainting the white ice with crimson blood. The liquid fumed, warmth against the cold. The irony sent of blood against the resin of the pine trees.

There was a friend lying before you, bleeding, on the verge of dying, and you were the only one who could save him. The wound that crossed his abdomen was deep though, and you were no Healer.

Heartrender. You were trained to fight, not to mend. This was only a secondary use of your power to you. But then again, you had no choice, there was no Healer left alive in your army.

An army? What a joke. There was but a handful left of you. Most of them wounded, just like you were. You were part of the lucky ones though, you had but a only a flesh wound. It was painful, and made you weaker than your usual self, but your life was not endangered by the cut across your thigh. You limped though, for travelling, it wasn’t the best…

Andrei seemed to choke on his own blood, the barrier you had created to keep the rushing blood out of his lungs breaking for a mere second, but it was enough. You focused, sweat glistening across your dirty forehead under the silvery starlight. You took a deep breath, trying to focus, but you were too tired, too unexperienced to treat such a serious wound…

He was the tenth man you were healing tonight. Your whole body was shaking from the strain of it all by now.

The gurgling noise drew worried glances and blank ones your way, and you tried to ignore them all, these soldiers of the Second Army, who had fought and survived out of pure luck, just like you had.

This idiot of a King had sent you right into a trap. You stood no chance…

You blinked your tears away as images of the battle flashed before your eyes. Bodies falling, hands moving in the air for summoning, the loud pangs of gunpowder detonating, the grunts, the shouts and the scent of blood and sweat and urine heavy in the air, and blank stares turned to the sky that would never see again…

You felt your power wavering, but you forced yourself to focus on Andrei again. Because he was not dead. And despite your exhaustion, you could still save him… maybe it was a fool’s hope, but no one could survive without hope…

“Will he make it?”

The deep voice behind you made you jump, and you turned to look up at the Darkling.

Tall figure standing before the moon. The silvery light coming through the branches made some kind of hallo around him.

He was covered with mud, blood and ashes too. Just like everyone else. He was dishevelled, his black kefta partially torn apart, with dark circles under his even-darker eyes. He looked exhausted. And yet, there was still something so powerful about him…

You struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. Somehow, speaking to someone else made it all more real…

“I’m doing my best, sir,” you answered, your voice shaking.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, narrowing his eyes to look more closely at your shape sitting in the snow.

“It’s only a flesh wound. I’m okay.”

You saw him clenching his jaw and fists. Always a bad sign. But his gaze was still stern and calm when it met yours again.

You couldn’t say that you knew him well, but then, you reckoned that no one truly did. He kept people at bay, it was safer that way.

Still, you thought that you knew him enough to recognize the anger in his set jaw, the frustration in his tight fists…

You were surprised, though, when he kneeled in the snow by your side.

“You are no Healer,” he said, it was more of a statement than a question, as if he was reminding you.

“No, I’m a Heartrender, sir. I’m trying my best, but the wound is very deep.”

You felt a little stupid for reminding him of your Corporalnik status. He knew who you were. Better than anyone, in a way. There had been long nights in his War Room spent talking about your childhood, about his longing for a safe haven for Grisha, about dreams unreachable even through the dark…

But then again, nothing more than that. Just talking, for long hours. And he hadn’t shown you any sign that anything more would happen, and neither had you. To you, it was ridiculous to think so, anyway. He was the Darkling, after all.

You didn’t know he enjoyed these moments as much as you did though; that despite his better judgement, he longed for them.

How could you know? He was good at keeping a mask on. He had had centuries to master this talent to perfection.

“Allow me,” he spoke, voice soft, barely audible above the howling of the wind in the branches and the cracking frost of snow. Still, it was delicate, velvety almost…

You nodded, although you weren’t sure what you were agreeing to. He was the Darkling, after all. You trusted him blindly.

You started when he gently pulled on your dirty red sleeve, pushing it up your forearm to reveal your wrist.

“Keep working,” he instructed, and you obeyed.

He found your pulse easily, without looking for it at all, as if it called for his fingertips. He simply rested the pads of his fingers against your wrist, and they naturally landed on the pulsing blood. As if his fingers were meant to rest there…

You felt a surge of power cursing your entire body; and if you were still shaking, this time it was because of power instead of fatigue.

You stared at him, gaze intense and unwavering, for several seconds, and he held your gaze too. There were no feelings to be read in the two inky orbs that stared back at your soul, but you couldn’t escape from them anyway.

You had heard many rumours about the Darkling’s amplifying abilities, you guessed they were all true.

“Will you be able to save him now?” he asked, voice calm and emotionless, asking a mere question, as if there wasn’t a life depending on it.

You nodded and focused on Andrei without another word, the Darkling following the movements of your hands to keep the contact between your skins. Your heart was beating faster than ever, and you weren’t certain if it came from the sudden surge of power running through you now, or by the Darkling’s nearness…

It took you a while before Andrei was stable enough for him to be transported safely in the morning. Or maybe you would start moving again before dawn, you weren’t sure, you didn’t even know where you were going…

You lowered your hands at long last, feeling exhaustion rush over you once more despite the Darkling’s amplification, but you were surprised when he didn’t let go. You expected the lack of contact to happen as soon as you would be done, for his fingers to run away, to flee your skin and leave in their trail only a cold gush of wind. Instead, his fingers remained there, pressed to your pulse, and when you looked up at him, he looked like he was the one holding an amplifier in his hand, instead of the other way around.

You got caught in his eyes again, trapped in two dark orbs that captured everyone who dared to look at them, and you knew it. He had something dangerous, magnetic about him. You had seen him at court enough to know that he played with his charisma to manipulate people to do his bidding as much as possible. But what could he manipulate you to do now? You had almost died today. You had killed under his command, you had watched your friends die, you had run away wrapped in his protective shadows…

What else could he get from you? There was nothing more to extract anyway. Maybe that was why you didn’t doubt his sincerity when he spoke again.

“Please, follow me, Y/N. I need your help.”

You didn’t question where you were heading, how you could help. Instead, you stood up despite your exhaustion, and followed him through the trees. You didn’t walk far, it was too dangerous to venture away from the group, but he guided you where you wouldn’t be disturbed, where you couldn’t be seen by the remnants of the Second Army.

And his fingers were still there, burning against the skin of your wrist… unwavering, unfaltering, eternal…

When he stopped, turned towards you again, the Darkling was shaking slightly. You wondered if it was because of you, because of how he had helped you. After all, he was a living amplifier. Did he tire out if he helped someone else use their powers?

He gave you a smile that you found shier than his usual ones. You were used to see them filled with nothing but confidence, or threat sometimes. Now, the gesture was almost tender.

“I know you are tired,” he breathed, eyes capturing your gaze once more. “But my shoulder is very painful.”

“I can help,” you assured him, moving your hands into position, and his smile widened.

“Always so brave…” he muttered, but there was fondness in his deep voice. “Still, we should sit, for your leg.”

You nodded, and the two of you sat down side by side, not caring about the cold of the snow under you. He had a pretty nasty cut running across his shoulder, but it wasn’t very deep. It was much easier to heal than Andrei’s wounds.

“If you are too tired, it can wait till morning,” he offered, but you shook your head, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“If you help me, I can heal you now.”

He nodded, a silent order for you to get to work. Or rather… it looked perhaps more like a question, like he asked for a favour. You were happy to comply either way.

He felt better now, his shoulder almost completely healed in a matter of minutes, the throbbing pain fading away a little more with each movement of your fingers over his shoulder, despite the itchy sensation that came with the mending of his flesh. And the reassuring warmth of your skin against his…

Earlier that day, he looked for you through the battlefield. He shouldn’t have. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows. You wouldn’t linger the way he would. Like his darkness, you would be gone with the first signs of dawn.

Still, at the most violent part of the battle, his eyes looked for you, without him noticing. Like they were meant to search for your frame through the chaos.

He shouldn’t have. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows…

“How is your leg?” he asked once the pain across his arm and back had almost vanished, knowing you were almost done.

“It’s just a flesh wound. It’s nothing. And to be honest, I’m too tired to think about it.”

“I’ll bandage it for you.”

He wasn’t asking for permission this time, he was stating a fact, almost giving an order. You nodded in a silent agreement.

You wondered how he did it. Once you were done, there was still a long, reddened line crossing his shoulder blade. It must have been extremely painful, and yet, he had remained stern for hours, not a single wince forming on his features throughout your crazy run through the battlefield, through the forest…

Was he so used to being hurt after so many battles that he had mastered hiding his pain to perfection?

You could never have guessed how true that was…

“I’m done,” you spoke at last. “It might remain painful for a few days, I’m sorry.”

But he smiled at you, his head tilted a little to the side, something amused on his features now.

“There is no need to be sorry, you’ve done a good job.”

He moved his shoulder a little, as if to prove a point.

His fingers didn’t move away from your pulse though… burning…. Burning through your skin…

“Do you need anything else, sir?” you asked, thinking that was the reason behind his lingering touch.

It wasn’t. It simply… it simply felt good. To touch somebody, no matter how innocent that touch might be. Skin against skin. Feeling your pulse, the rhythm of your heartbeat, directly under his fingertips…

It was a luxury to him. Had always been. When you were to be a prey, you needed to choose the moments to reveal your weaknesses carefully, or you would be devoured.

He was more of a predator himself now. He had grown into one, had taken a hold of these shadows that scared him as a child, had become ruthless with time. For the most part, at least.

Still, he craved for it. The simple contact of another human’s skin against his, even if it were to last for a mere moment, for just a second…

And you had been allowing him to touch you for what felt like hours now. He could barely breathe at the thought.

He trusted you enough to let you feel it. The power that ran through his bones. The curse that made him undying. That made him linger even after all was gone. That made him run away again, and again, without any place to fall down to…

He let you feel it, running through your veins, and he trusted you enough to believe that you would not crave for more after he would pull away. He hoped that if you touched him again, it would be to touch him, not his power.

He moved his fingers to hold your wrist more firmly, and his thumb grazed the inside of your wrist, brushing your pulse, making your heart stumble. You were used to it now, to the power of the amplifier. You weren’t used to his touch, though. You weren’t sure you would ever be…

You weren’t certain why you started crying. Why now. You had not shed a tear during the battle, afterwards, as you fled, as you healed your friends, as you saw their dead bodies… You hadn’t cried at all despite everything that had happened. And yet… yet now you were letting a tear roll down your cheek, looking down at the snow to flee the Darkling’s gaze, to run from everything…

You shuddered, leaned into his touch, when he brushed your tear away from your cheek, touch gentle, delicate, barely there at all… almost like a dream… like a passing thing, one of his shadows…

“I’m sorry for today,” he whispered, and you looked up at the sound of his voice, frowning a little.

It was shaking, fragile. Deep still, laced with something that came from darkness but he looked so human now…

“None of this was your fault,” you replied, letting him brush another of your tears away.

“It was though. I was the one in charge. It was my fault.”

“It was the King’s fault. Even you have to obey sometimes.”

He clenched his jaw for a second, because you were right. Even he had to obey. Had to let Grisha die over nothing but a piece of land.

One day though, he wouldn’t have to. He would be the one to take decisions, and then the Grisha would be safe, at long last. It was an old promise he had made to himself, he intended to keep it…

But the worry quickly disappeared from his gaze, he relaxed again, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips now.

“Only sometimes, though.”

You exchanged a smile, and you felt safer now. Safer than you had felt ever since you had left the protection of the Little Palace. But was it surprising? He was the reason why the Little Palace was safe to begin with…

You didn’t know why, but you were certain nothing would happen to you under his watch. Maybe it was a fool’s hope, some heavy denial after being so close to Death all day… you weren’t sure. But then again, no one could survive without hope…

And he should never have touched you like this. He shouldn’t have let you feel the power you could earn from him. He shouldn’t have let himself grow fond of you in the first place, because maybe now it was something a little more than that… He was too old, he had lived too many lives to fall into this kind of traps.

Or was he?

It was better not to tread on this. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows. You would disappear with the first signs of dawn, and he would linger on. The curse of this power running through his bones…

Slowly, he pulled his fingers away from your face, released your wrist, left your pulse, ran from the steady beat of it. And all that was left against his skin was a cold, howling gush of wind.

There was nothing he could hold onto anyway. He would outlast them all. He would outlast you, by a hundred years, maybe even more, maybe even a thousand.

He would remember those eyes though, he knew he would. And it would hurt to remember them, in the deepest darkness he summoned. Two eyes staring right into his souls. Two eyes he could have fallen for, in another life, one that could end with yours…

He saw your lower lip trembling a little as you looked up at him, the way your eyes dropped to look at your wrist, where his fingers had been. And then he was afraid of his own shadows all over again, the same he was as a child.

Were you rubbing that spot on your wrist because of his touch, or because of the power it had given you for a moment?

You didn’t look up at him as you reached for his arm, hand clinging to his torn, dirty, stained kefta. You were pretty sure you weren’t allowed to do this, to lean against him, to hold onto his arm, to rest your forehead against his shoulder. It didn’t matter. You missed the effect he had on you too much for that.

Calm. Safe. Beating heart pounding with life despite the sorrow.

He was grateful that you weren’t looking at him. He could let tears form in his dark eyes then, although he couldn’t let them run down his cheeks, couldn’t let them free. Appearing, that was already a lot…

You couldn’t feel his amplifying powers through his kefta. It required skin-on-skin contact. And yet, you were still there, pressing yourself against him, holding tight, as if to a lifeline.

When he wrapped his arm around your frame, pulling you closer, holding you tight, he was shaking a little. It was okay, he didn’t mind, and neither did you. It felt too good to mind.

Calm. Safe. Beating heart pounding with life despite the sorrow.

When he reached for your hand, when he pressed his lips to your head, he didn’t mind that you would feel what he was. The power hidden in his bones, that promised him an eternity, but only spent alone.

And you didn’t mind it either. You weren’t scared of it. You didn’t crave for it. It felt more like a burden than anything else.

You were right about that.

And he shouldn’t have done any of this, shouldn’t have let himself slip so far. He should have run, the way he always did, the way his mother had taught him to, the way he had learnt by himself. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows. You would be gone with the first signs of dawn…

Still, he remained, for once.

Just for the night, while the world still lingered in darkness, maybe he could have that. Maybe he could have you, for just a few hours, before letting you run away, like he always did.

Maybe, for just a few dark hours, it could be enough.

****************

Taglist : @wolfmoonmusic @reg-arcturus-black

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[hottpinkpenguin]

Seafoam (part 5)

Series masterlist Warnings: canon-typical violence, descriptions of reader in captivity, hints of torture, canon divergent

The fire that Aleksander had lit earlier that night had burned down to simmering embers. Aleksander’s eyes, bleary with exhaustion, rested on the coals, but he didn’t see them. HIs gaze was misty and withdrawn, his mind reeling with impatience as he willed the minutes to slide by. Lying open on the small table next to him, the note he’d found impaled to a try by a small, Fjerdan blade fluttered in the breeze. 

Dawn. Mountaintop. Come alone.

The letter hadn’t been the only thing pinned between the bark of the tree outside his tent and the Fjerdan steel. He’d laced the dirty scrap of ribbon between his fingers, its color so faded that he may not have recognized it if it weren’t for your scent. That ribbon had once been a brilliant shade of seafoam green, and it was the color Aleksander saw you in when he dreamt at night. It was the last color he’d seen on you; the color David had slaved away recreating for months on end. 

Aleksander had recognized the ribbon, even in its faded, filthy state, as soon as he’d caught sight of it. His heart had knotted in his chest when he saw the dark, carmine colored stain that could only be dried blood. And he knew what it meant long before he read the note. 

The drüskelle had you. They’d followed the dispatched soldiers he’d sent back to Os Alta as soon as he’d caught wind of the Fjerdans’ plan to capture you. Aleksander realized now that he’d been outplayed. He’d gone blind with terror at the thought of you in his enemies’ clutches and acted out of instinct. He hadn’t stopped to consider that the Fjerdans didn’t know where you were. Aleksander had gone to great pains to keep your relationship private for that exact reason. Even the members of his court didn’t know who you were, beyond his paramour, and he’d made certain that no one ever knew where you laid your head at night. 

He’d panicked, however, when his scouts had intercepted dispatches between the Fjerdan commanders and the drüskelle identifying you by name as their target. Without a second thought, Aleksander had ordered five of his best fighters and fastest riders to Os Alta, desperate to get to you before the enemy. Aleksander had been saddling his own mount to join them when Ivan had intervened, imploring him to stay if only to save the morale of his already fraying forces. It had been the only argument Aleksander would have caved to, and his closest advisor had known it. Begrudgingly and with black rage bubbling in his gut, Aleksander had agreed. His barely contained rage had been palpable to the five grisha he entrusted with your life, and they’d been happy to oblige his orders to get to her with all possible speed. Blinded by terror and feeling like a caged animal, Aleksander couldn’t think of anything but getting to you and bringing you to him. He’d have traded anything - his powers, his soul, maybe even the tattered shreds of his army in his weaker moments - to feel you wrapped in his embrace, safe once more.

Only when he’d heard Private Tovin’s bedside confession had he put the pieces together. The dying Heartrender had said that he’d tried to follow the drüskelle who’d taken you, but that he’d lost the trail in the mountains. Aleksander hadn’t been surprised; the mountains that ran along the eastern edge of Ravka and up into Fjerdan territory were impenetrable, especially in the winter. Even though it had been only late autumn in Os Alta when Private Tovin had knocked on your door, winter had already taken root in the mountains. 

Aleksander realized that had been his mistake. He’d sent the soldiers dispatched from his camp to fetch you by the most direct path, ignoring the risk of being followed. He’d assumed that there’d be no need for Fjerda to worry about following his soldiers; instead, he’d expected them to be racing towards your doorstep at that very moment. How they’d come to learn of your identity and your location, he had no idea. The fact plagued him, stuck in his side like a thorn, but he’d deemed it an irrelevant detail and brushed it aside in favor of focusing on your rescue. If he’d been more thoughtful, been thinking with a clearer head, he would have instructed the grisha tasked with retrieving you to take a more circuitous route, through the mountains, to avoid being tracked. 

That was how the drüskelle found you. Aleksander had let them right to you. He’d practically opened the door to your house himself. When that realization had clicked into place, Aleksander had felt something crack open deep in his chest. Whatever tender and longing sliver of his heart had been kept evergreen throughout this bloody conflict by your memory had turned to ash. A black fire of despair, vengeance, and cruelty blazed through him, burning every surface of his heart and leaving no room for the softness you’d so lovingly planted there. He couldn’t even remember the sound of your laughter.

Aleksander had to admit that when he saw that note and the tattered ribbon nailed to a tree by his tent, he’d felt an intense relief wash over him. Finally, he’d thought as he’d pulled the blade from the tree and retreated inside, ordering his guards not to let anyone disturb him. Let’s end this damn thing. 

He’d found the note and the ribbon just after sunset a few hours ago. The night was dark now, its dying gasp before yielding to the wan light of dawn. Nights were always darkest before the dawn. As the king of shadows, Aleksander knew that fact to his very core. He also knew that he wouldn’t live to see another sunset. He could feel death stalking him like a restless beast, eager to sink its claws into him. He’d dodged death for hundreds of years, denying it the satisfaction of claiming him and feasting on his powers. But just as that black fire of hatred had seared shut all the soft parts of him that had once been human, Aleksander had felt death rearing its head in his future. Death was greedy, he knew; he’d been feeding it a steady diet of innocent Grisha lives for the duration of this horrid war, and still Death wasn’t satisfied. It wouldn’t rest until he succumbed to its cold embrace.

Although it had been a long time since dying had scared him, Aleksander did feel a white-hot barbed coil of fear writhing in his chest. Fear for you. Fear that you’d go roaring into Death’s blackness alongside him. Maybe you were already there, waiting to greet him. The thought threatened to empty the contents of his stomach on the floor of his tent, but Aleksander gripped the arms of his chair, gritting his teeth against the urge to run run run run to you. The command to seek you, find you, save you rang in his blood. He’d been fighting it all night long, forcing the logical part of his mind to create a plan. He’d let that blinded instinct to save you control him once before, and now you were in the clutches of his enemies because of it. He refused to let that happen again.

The coals in the hearth were gray with cold when he finally rose from his seat. Outside, the Grisha camp remained hushed with sleep. No one knew about the summons he’d received, or the ribbon still laced between his fingers. Aleksander could hear the gentle breathing of his guards outside his tent, knew they weren’t sleeping but were calm, unaware that he stirred within. Using the ample darkness of a starless night mixed with his own powers, Aleksander slipped out the back of his tent, unlacing the leather cord that stitched two panels of his tent together. Aside from the ribbon that used to adorn your wrist, he took nothing with him.

Turning his eyes up the steep slope of the mountainside, Aleksander began climbing. 

*****

An unrelenting wind had blown all night. By the time dawn peeked over the distant horizon, you were near delirious with blood loss, exhaustion, and frostbite. You’d been kept bound and gagged for the duration of the climb up the mountain - a three day journey - and no one had removed your bounds that night either. They’d thrown you to the ground and left you there, shivering in the snow in the nightgown you’d been wearing the night they’d taken from you Os Alta. The drüskelle hadn’t lit any fires, preferring instead to huddle together with their furs slung over each others’ shoulders, sharing in body warmth. None of them shared any of their warmth with you, although the commander who had threatened to burn you at the stake (part of you wondered darkly if that might be a better ending than succumbing to the cold) had slung his heavy coat over your trembling shoulders as night had fallen. That coat, you knew, was the only reason you’d lived through the night. You doubted you’d walk away from this with all your toes and fingers - if you walked away at all - but frostbite hadn’t spread much beyond your smallest digits. 

Sometime in the dead of night, you’d heard a group of the drüskelle leave the camp and disappear down the path you’d climbed up to the barren mountaintop the day before. Although you couldn’t see him in the faint light, you could hear that they’d returned, and from the sound of it they’d dragged a large tree trunk up the mountainside with them. A few of the men who’d stayed in the camp all night began stripping the trunk of its bark and digging into the frozen ground. A chill ran down your spine as you heard the commander bark orders to fetch rastolz, the Fjerdan word for kindling. You knew that the commander meant to make good on his promise to test your stubbornness at the stake. 

Aleksander, where are you? Your mind called out into the dispassionate darkness that pressed down on you from all angles. Even though you knew your body fared a better chance of surviving under the light of day, you feared the rise of the sun. Darkness was familiar to you, it reminded you of Aleksander. If he was going to save you, it had to be now, and it would be in the dark. 

As if summoned by your terrified silent pleading, a cry of surprise erupted from the edge of the camp. You fought against the pain in your neck and shoulders to lift your head in the direction of the sound. Even in the dark, you could see him. A figure that seemed to radiate blackness, swallowing all the light in sight. He crested the ridge, coming into full view of the camp like a conquering emperor. Even though he was wearing his basic fighting leathers with no blades, swords, or weapons visible and no crown atop his head, Aleksander was every inch a king. A deep, rumbling power reverberated in the air around him. It made you want to sink to your knees in front of him, as if your instincts could sense the raw strength of the man approaching. 

But it wasn’t until you looked at his eyes that you exhaled, familiarity flooding every inch of your being. His gaze raked over the camp, looking for something, looking for you. Those eyes danced with a black fire you’d never seen in them before, but behind that wall of flame you knew the man there. You’d shared his bed and so much more. You’d felt the strength of his heartbeat beneath your palms, you’d shared in laughter together, made wishes by starlight and faced fears in the daytime. You’d spent countless quiet moments without any glamor or glory there to enrich them: moments in the library reading in companionable silence, moments in the market arguing over which soap scents you each preferred, moments of friendship and disagreement and deep, abiding affection. You loved him, and he loved you. Aleksander. Your Aleksander. 

You cried out his name involuntarily, but the gag digging into your mouth stifled the syllables on your tongue, only letting out a pitiful moan. Aleksander’s head snapped in your direction at the sound, his eyes resting on you and widening in recognition. The black fire that blazed in his pupils bloomed, and that reverberating power roared in answer. The Fjerdans had begun to organize, the sound of steel on steel setting your teeth on edge as the first brave few drew their swords and approached the Black General.

Aleksander kept his eyes fixed on you as the sun speared the darkness, rising above the horizon and bathing the camp in light. The rays made it easier to see him, and your heart wrenched as you took stock of how haggard he looked. Despite how straight his spine was, the proud and regal tilt of his head and the commanding expression etched on his handsome features, he was considerably slimmer than the last time you’d seen him. His leathers were roomy in a way you’d never seen them, the muscles of his chest, shoulders, and thighs wasted down to their wiriest. Dark bags hung beneath his murderous eyes, and his pallor betrayed a man who’d been hungry too long. 

Despite it all, you’d never seen him look so powerful. 

Wriggling in the snow, you forced your body towards him. The bonds wrapped tight around your wrists and ankles restricted your movement considerably, but you struggled in his direction nonetheless. Neither of you broke eye contact, even as a few drüskelle reached him. His eyes continued to blaze with that awful black fire as he deftly dodged his opponents’ swords, his hands twisting in the intricate dance that Grisha used to harness their powers. Aleksander’s powers outpaced almost every Grisha - past and present - and he wielded them with deadly precision, honing his shadows into a blade of magic that Grisha called The Cut. He dealt with the first few drüskelle handily, rending their heads from their necks by virtue of The Cut. 

You watched, transfixed by him and the familiar moves of his body. More drüskelle advanced on him, their ranks beginning to organize and coordinate an attack. The commander barked orders at his men, gesturing emphatically but with a steely calm that unnerved you. His men responded in kind, the frenzy of Aleksander’s surprise attack wearing off. He was one man against dozens, after all; despite his powers, even the Black Heretic would be hard pressed to take down an entire phalanx of drüskelle alone.

Your throat tightened as the magnitude of the threat against Aleksander’s life - and yours - came into sharp focus. You couldn’t tear your eyes from him, not even when a significantly more coordinated cluster of drüskelle swarmed him. The onslaught forced him to break his gaze with you, focusing on dispatching the troublesome enemies around him. Despite the sharp and well-trained movements of the drüskelle fighters, Aleksander remained a hair’s breadth ahead of them. It took longer than the first wave, but one by one these men too fell under his Cut. 

Just as his shadows sliced through the last fighter’s torso, staining the snow around him in an arcing rain of blood, you felt rough, cold hands grab you by the hair, dragging you backwards. Your scalp erupted in pain, your eyes blurring with tears as you cried out involuntarily. 

Your cry echoed in Aleksander’s bones, and he felt that ravenous black fire intensify. He yielded to the flame, letting it rush up to the front of his mind, the blistering rage he felt burning through the last few shreds of logic. This was a new aspect of his power he’d never felt before, and he knew the fuel for it came from knowing you were in danger. Aleksander had lived through countless wars and battles, but never before had his stakes been so high.

By the time the drüskelle commander was done dragging you and the tears had cleared from your eyes, you could barely see Aleksander anymore. Instead, you saw a writhing wall of black flames where he’d once stood. The flames lashed out hungrily at the Fjerdans now hesitating in their ranks, exchanging nervous glances with one another and their leaders, whose commands had fallen silent for a moment. An eerie quiet descended on the camp as everyone seemed to hold their breath, unsure of what to do. Then, piercing that eerie silence came the agonizing screams of the drüskelle engulfed in those obsidian black flames. The fire itself seems to roar with its own voice, a battle cry of pure vengeance that shattered the sky. Another heartbeat later and the screams of agony were extinguished. 

Chaos erupted as the drüskelle leaders resumed barking their orders, their commands sharper this time. You could hear fear in their voices. Some of the men were hesitating now, unwilling to comply with their new orders, which caused the commanders to scream louder as they felt their grip on control slipping. Underneath it all, Aleksander’s black flames thundered, sweeping out towards the balking Fjerdans like the snapping jaws of a beast. Anyone the flames touched ignited like dried kindling, howling in pain for a moment before their skin and bones burned to ash, leaving nothing behind but scorch marks in the snow.

You’d never seen Aleksander’s powers like this before, never knew that his shadows could take the form of flames. It was terrible to behold, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was wreathed in the same fire that consumed the drüskelle, except he didn’t burn away or cry out. He moved with savage purpose, trying to get to you. Your body responded, every muscle taut with anticipation as you tried to wrench a hand free from the bonds around your wrists. You felt a cold trickle of blood run down your palms from where the rope had rubbed your skin raw, but you gritted your teeth against the burn and continued to try. Just before your hand slipped free, calloused hands knotted themselves in your hair again, this time hauling you up from the ground to your feet.

“One more step, General, and I gut your whore where she stands!” 

You recognized the voice that bellowed mere inches from your ear. It was the drüskelle commander, the one who’d spoken to you in the hut and given you his cloak last night to make sure you’d live to this moment. You felt the cold bite of a sharp blade against the soft skin of your throat as he pulled your hair down, exposing your neck to the cold. 

The flames stopped their greedy rampage in their tracks. At the center of the fire, you saw Aleksander’s face, a frozen mask of rage mixed with sheer terror as he started at you. For a split second, you saw Aleksander calculate whether he’d be able to burn his way to you.

The commander holding you pressed his advantage, screaming out again in heavily accented Ravkan.

“Burn me, General, and you burn her with me.”

Once again, the clear was coated in a thick silence. No one seemed to breath as Aleksander’s eyes darted between you, the commander pressed against your back with his hand in your hair, and the drüskelle flanking you. 

“You’ve had your fun, now we talk terms.” The commander’s voice was softer now, but more commanding. He had the upper hand, and he knew it.

Across the clearing, only about ten paces from you, Aleksander shook with effort as he kept his flames contained. He tamped down the primal scream in his head that implored him to burn, burn it all. He knew he wouldn’t be able to aim his flames with enough precision to avoid burning you.

His dark eyes were wide and focused on you as he replied quietly, “Name your terms. Anything, anything, in exchange for her life. Unharmed.” His voice broke like fragile glass on the word her, the mask of rage slipping to reveal grief and raw fear smoldering beneath it.

You felt your knees threaten to give out under you as tears slid from the corners of your eyes. You tried to call out no! but once again the gag muffled your words. Only a guttural groan punctuated by sobs made its way out, but you knew Aleksander understood what you were trying to say. Please, you begged him with your eyes. Please don’t do this. Don’t make me watch you die. Don’t give up, not yet. You knew what price the drüskelle wanted. Nothing less than a trade, Aleksander’s life for yours. They knew that without the Black General, what little remained of the Second Army would fold in on itself in a matter of days, perhaps less. And once they had Aleksander surrendered, they’d kill you too. You didn’t doubt that Aleksander knew this too, but his options were limited. The sting of razor-sharp steel pressing against your windpipe was proof of that. You knew he’d bargain with Death itself to try and buy you one more moment, one more chance to escape.

Next to your ear, you heard the commander chuckle darkly. “Good, General. I am glad you can see reason. Let us be rid of those flames, and we can talk.” 

Slowly, inch by inch, you watched as those deadly black flames retreated away from the Fjerdan forces, withdrawing back towards Aleksander. His eyes were closed and his brows knitted together with the strain. You wondered what it cost him to unleash that fire, and what it was costing him now to try and control it. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his hands and arms shaking as the flames seem to crawl back under his skin. 

Your scalp was still screaming in pain against the vicious tug of the commander’s hand tangled in your matted hair. You tried to tilt your head back to ease the pull, but the movement caused your stiff neck to protest. Your body felt weak from lack of food; even the adrenaline pulsing through your veins did little to numb the aches and pains. You tried once more to twist a hand free of the bonds at your wrist, wincing at the pain as the rope continued to dig into the freshly cut skin there. You felt blood run down your hand from where the rope bit into your wrist. Trying to keep your shoulders still so the commander wouldn’t notice what you were doing, you squeezed your eyes shut against the pain as you twisted your hand once more. 

Unable to keep from grunting, you felt your thumb dislocate with a white-hot blaze of agony. With your thumb crushed unnaturally into your palm, it allowed enough room to slide your blood-slick hand free of the bond. Your shoulders released slightly from the position they’d been stuck in for days. The relief was exquisite but horribly painful, almost enough to make you black out. The commander noted your body weight growing heavy and renewed his grip on your hair, causing you to whelp. You had to stop yourself from instinctually reaching up with your hand to try and relieve the pressure on your scalp. 

Your strength was fading fast, quickened by the pain from your thumb. You had to act fast - now - before you were too weak to be anything but a burden. You bent your elbows and used your uninjured hand to grip your opposite wrist as you swung your elbow back into the stomach of the commander who was gripping you tightly by the hair. It was a weak blow, not nearly enough to injure him, but enough to take him by surprise and knock the air from his lungs. His breath whooshed past your ear in a forced exhale at the same moment you felt his hand loosen slightly on your scalp. Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, you wrenched your head violently away from him, screaming at the pain as a few knots of your hair were ripped out at the roots. Giving over to instinct, you tried to run, but the bonds around your ankles shortened your steps. You collapsed just a half pace or so from where the commander stood, bent over at the waist as he tried to regain his breath.

You lifted your head weakly, eyes locking with Aleksander’s. Time seemed to slow as you fell into his gaze. You saw the black flames he’d been working so hard to harness erupt outward from him like a dying star, sweeping across the field towards you. They were a wall of fire, dark like shadows, and as they approached you could feel a cold so intense it burned. Instinctively, your eyes closed and you shied away from the flames, bracing for the onslaught of pain as the flames washed over you.

But none came. The flames parted around you like water around a rock, close enough to feel their deadly frozen heat but not near enough to do any damage. Around you, the sounds of men crying out in agony echoed through the clearing. One cry was close enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You turned your head, fighting against the wall of pain that threatened to suck you into unconsciousness. Just a few inches from your feet, you watched the drüskelle commander’s armor ignite in flame and burn away, his skin blistering underneath as he let loose a blood-curdling wail. He collapsed to his knees, his body losing its recognizable form as his flesh seemed to melt like hot wax. His cries were cut off by a strangled, gurgling sound as the tendons and muscles beneath his skin began to curl like cooked meat. The urge to vomit seized you as his burnt corpse fell to the ground mere inches from you. 

The flames raged for a few more moments before they died as suddenly as they’d arrived. The clearing was plunged into an eerie calm, the only sounds were Aleksander’s footfalls crunching the charred grass as he ran to you. He knelt beside you and turned you over gently in his hands, which were cold like blocks of ice. Your head came to rest on his lap as he smoothed the hair from your dirty, sweat-stained face. You looked up into his eyes, but they looked wrong somehow. His face was ghastly pale and his eyes were so dark they seemed to swallow the light around him. Nevertheless, he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. You’d forgotten how handsome he was. He gazed down at you like you were a marvel never before seen. You felt yourself slip into darkness to the feel of his mouth - soft and warm - on yours.

read part 6 (finale) here

#darkling #darkling x you #darkling x reader #darkling x y/n #darkling imagine #darkling fanfiction #darkling shadow and bone #alexander morozova #alexander morozova x y/n #alexander morozova x reader #alexander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x y/n #aleksander morozova imagine #seafoam series

[loubombshell]

Imagine being friends with Mal and Alina

part one | part two

A guard grabbed y/n's arm tightly and leaded her to a room to stay for the night. He let her inside and closed the door.

The girl took a look around the whole, it was probably the most beautiful one she'll ever stay in. It was filled with stunning details on the wall and ceiling, she even had a little desk and mirror.

Y/n stepped in front of the mirror, looking at herself, her hair was messy, he face was dirty and had some scratches on it. The girl took a look around and found another door, leading into a bathroom. She smiled about it and started the water getting herself a bit cleaned up.

Y/n stepped out of the bathroom again, looking out of the window, she had a perfect view into the backyard with a little hut at the end of it. She also saw two people walking towards it, a masculine figure and probably a guard. It looked like-

It looked like Mal.

"What is he doing?" She whispered to herself and hurried out of the room, running along the hallway. She heard some music and a lot of people talking and stopped abruptly when she saw them. They wore their most beautiful dresses, or their Keftas, she made her way through the people trying to find a way out.

Suddenly the entire room grew dark and people kept quiet. "Her name is Alina Starkov and she's the sun summoner." A male voice said Y/n turned to the voice, standing on a little stage. Alina stepped on it, taking a look around while the General walked down from the stage, through the crowd, towards Y/n.

"You're not supposed to be here." The Darkling told her honestly and grabbed her arm a bit harshly.

Y/n looked to him and pulled her arm immediately back. "I know, I'm sorry but Mal- he walked out and I wanted to see if he's alright." She explained but got interrupted when she saw the light blinding the whole room. Alina was impressive and Y/n smiled a bit about her friend.

The Darkling looked to Alina too and back to Y/n, he took her arm again and pulled her away from the crowd. "No, wait I've to talk to her." The girl told him but he just ignored her.

"She can't talk right now, I already told you I'll bring her to you if she knows you." The man explained and pushed her in the arms of a female guard.

"Oh really? Did you already ask her or what are you waiting for? You won't find your precious stag without Mal's or my help." Y/n explained to him and the Darkling raised his chin moving closer to her.

"You'll have to wait until I ask her or you can spend the night in the dungeon." He whispered in her ear and gave the guard a nod, while she dragged Y/n away.

Y/n walked a few meters with the guard. "He's such an asshole." She whispered under her breath what makes the guard next to her smile a bit. The guard was a bit smaller than Y/n, had black hair she braided together.

"Do you know her? The sun summoner?" The guard asked her walking through the hallways.

"I do, she's my best friend. We grow up together, I just want to see her again after these many months." Y/n explained to her.

The guard nodded understanding. "I'll take you back to the war room and you can wait there for her. I hope he'll bring her there." She explained.

"A-Are you even allowed to do so?" Y/n asked her honestly.

"Probably not." The guard smirked and took her to the room. "Just don't tell anyone about it." She added and left again.

The girl smiled and walked carefully in his war room, looking around and over his desk. She saw the picture of the stag, it looked like a drawing from Alina. Y/n took it in her hands and moved with her fingers over it, smiling about it.

Suddenly the doors flew open and Y/n got down, hoping no one saw her. She moved under the table and saw four feet moving around.

"What do you know about Alina's two little friends?" The Darkling asked.

"I just know the things from the letters and what Alina told me. They grew up together, fight for each other and basically went through everything together." A female voice explained.

"How adorable. After they told me about the stag, make sure to get rid of them." He told the woman and Y/n put a hand over her mouth, afraid to make a sound. "They're just distracting Alina and don't want her to become powerful. Oh and send Alina in after you're leaving." He added.

"Yes, General." The woman said and walked out of the room again.

Y/n looked after the woman leaving and tried to stay quiet. She thought about Mal, hopefully he's well. The next what she heard were another footsteps of a woman again. God they're walking in an out here.

"Alina." The Darkling said happily and Y/n wide her eyes. "You were perfect out there." He added and Y/n watched Alina's feet standing between his. She almost threw up about it.

"Thank you Alexander, I can feel my power grew and grew everyday." Alina explained excited and suddenly everything went quiet.

Did he kill her? Did she pass out?

A sound above her broke her thoughts, someone sat down on the table and she heard heavy breathing. Ew.

"I'll be right back, wait here for me." The Darkling or Alexander said and walked out of the room while Alina got down from the table again. He closed the door after he left.

That's her sign.

"Alina!" Y/n said under the table and came out of her hiding spot.

Alina turned around by the sound of her voice. "Y/n?! Wha- What are you doing here?" She asked her and pulled her in a bone crashing hug.

"I'm here to see you, of course." The girl chuckled and hugged her friend tightly. She took a step back after a while and looked her up and down. "You look like a real grisha." She told her.

Alina smirked. "Well, could be because I am." She said and hugged her one more time. "I'm so happy to see you again." She added and they hold onto each other for a while.

Behind them a book shelf opened and Y/n frowned, she let go of Alina and looked closely. An old woman walked through, her body supported by a cane in her hand.

"Baghra?" Alina asked surprised and walked towards her. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Stupid girl, don't ask questions and follow me already." Baghra told her and pushed her towards the dark alley.

"What is happening right now?" Y/n asked confused but got suddenly hit by a cane after she asked. "Ow!" She shouted and hold onto the hurting arm.

"Both of you go now!" Baghra said again and they walked together through the dark. Y/n picked up a lantern on the side and hold it up, helping her see in the dark. Alina stopped her and created a light in her palms.

"That's incredible." Y/n smiled and got pushed forward by the old woman.

"Go already before it's to late." She said and Alina turned to her confused, but still walking forward.

"To late? But-"

"I'm trying to safe you from spending the rest of your life being a slave." She explained.

Alina walked behind the woman always looking behind her shoulder. "What? Maybe we should go back to Alex- General Kirigan. I'm sure he can help." She explained.

Y/n was about to say something but got interrupted by the woman. "I'm trying to safe you from Alexander." She said. "He wants to expand the fold and use it as a weapon, that's why he created it in the first place." Baghra explained.

"What? No. The Black Heretic created the fold, hundreds of years ago." Alina argued. "He trains me and wants me to grow stronger." She added with a little smile.

"Oh really? Or did he distract you with his plans of the future. Child, Alexander is the Black Heretic. He hid behind a noble name for many years after he created the fold." She added.

"You're lying." Alina shook her head.

"Look at me." Baghra said and the shadows started raising behind her.

"You're his mother." Alina said disappointed, while Y/n watched the shadows moving around.

After some more talking the girls walked out of the building, looking for a way to escape. Y/n watched the guards already walking around, probably searching for them. The girl took some old clothes she found and gave them to Alina.

"Put it on and give me your clothes, we gonna split and I distract them while you run away." Y/n explained to her but Alina immediately shook her head.

"No, Y/n we gonna leave together." Alina explained to her.

"Just trust me, you know I was the best when we played chasing. Mal and you always freaked out." Y/n chuckled and hugged her again. Alina sighed and nodded. "Alright, but be careful." She added and gave her the kefta.

Y/n put it on and a cape too, hiding her hair and face a bit. "Now go. I'll find you." She whispered and swing on top of the horse.

"I'll leave you a way to find me." Alina told her and watched her riding away, she ran to a carriage and hid in there immediately.

Y/n kicked the horse lightly into the side and it started running towards the forest. She hold tightly onto the reins and took a look over her shoulder. When she heard the guards yelling after her, she turned back with a little smirk. After just a few seconds she heard horses behind her. Three people were following her: One with a black Kefta, the General. A woman with a blue kefta and a man with a red kefta.

"Stop it, Alina! What are you doing?" The General shouted after her. Both of them next to him, started riding even faster circling her from left and right.

The General stopped in front of the girl.

Y/n turned with her horse to him and took her hood from the head, smiling at him. "Can I help you?" She asked him.

The Genera and the Grisha next to him gave her a death glare.

part three: coming soon

@intothesoul @issybee0611

#general kirigan x y/n #ben barnes x reader #alexander morozova x y/n #alexander morozova x you #alexander morozova x reader #alexander morozova #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling imagine #the darkling #shadow and bone #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagines #aleksander morozova x you

[lilacchameleon]

The Darkling's daughter #2.

You are a shadow summoner and sometimes it's hard for you to control your abilities.

You were hurrying down the hall to your father's office. The darkness was blurring your eyes, so you barely saw where you were going. Oprichiniki who were standing at the door rushed to you and helped you to get into the room.

"Papa help me!" You cried.

The Darkling turned to you and raised his eyebrows. What he saw confused him. Your skin was pale and black veins bulged under it.

Alexander looked at you with admiration and sympathy at the same time. "Do you feel how powerful your shadows are?"

You shook your head. "I want to stop it. It's like the darkness is devouring me from the inside." You whispered, barely holding back tears.

Lessons with the Darkling.

"Summon the shadow." Alexander asked softly. Darkness swirled in your hand. "Shape it."

Slowly, the shadow turned into a butterfly. It flapped off from your hand and landed on the side of an old broken fountain.

The Darkling nodded. "Continue."

You focused and shaped it to raven, but it was barely recognizable. It was hard for you to keep the shadows in one figure.

Your father came closer and put his hands on your shoulders. He smirked and whispered in your ear. "Do you feel how many efforts goes into this exercise? Next time you feel the darkness overwhelm you, focus on shaping it. Try to create huge and clear figure of animals."

He kissed your head and gently stroked your back.

Lessons with Baghra.

Despite the fact that you are relatives, you go through humiliation just like other Grishas.

"Stupid girl!" Baghra exclaimed irritably. "How many times do I have to repeat that you cannot lose concentration?"

"Enough!" You raised your voice at her. "I've said a hundred times that it happens without my control!"

Baghra's eyes widened in unpleasant surprise.

"Get out of here and don't come back until you learn how to control yourself." She told you in an unnatural calm tone.

"Instead of me, you should have learned tact." You wanted to exclaim, but you closed your mouth in time and only looked angrily at Baghra. Then you smiled nastily. "Fine. Since now, I will have lessons only with papa."

You stormed away from her hut and loudly closed the door.

"What a spoiled girl." She grumbled.

From time to time you secretly leave the Little Palace just to hang out, but your father really concerned about it.

The last trip outside the Little Palace was quite disappointing. Your horse got terrified because of the snake. It galloped into the woods, where you fell and broke your shoulder. Returned in the dead of night, you immediately went to the healers.

Finally, you got to your room, and only you fell on bed when someone knocked the door.

"Come in." You groaned.

It was Ivan. He told you that your father is waiting for you in war room.

"I was informed about the incident." The Darkling told you as soon as you came to the war room.

"Please. It's my fault. I admit it. Can I go?" you had no energy to discuss this situation.

Taking a deep breath, he told you to came closer. He looked right in your eyes and then asked clearly. "Do you think I require you to inform me when you're going to leave the palace, just to bother you?"

You already opened your mouth to opposite him, but he pressed his forefinger to your lips and gave you a meaningful sight.

"You think you are a big girl who can deal with any problem by herself, isn't it? Of course, you can handle a few drunk men from those awful taverns where you like to waste your time. But who can protect you from accidents like today?" After a little silence, he whispered. "Don't break my heart, Y/n."

"I am sorry, papa." You sobbed and hugged him tightly.

#y/n #reader #the darkling #alexander morozova #general kirigan #the darkling's daughter #the darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #daughter!reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #ben barnes #female!reader #aleksander kirigan #alexander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow summoner #female!shadow summoner #shadow summoner!reader

[carnationworld-writings]

Hi guys! Amazing things happened today! We reached 500 followers on this blog! You don’t even know how important it’s for me! 

Thank you so much for every follow, every like and reblog! Every comment you leave here went straight to my heart! I wanted to thank you for understanding - this year, as my last year at uni was extremely busy. And you always have words of support for me, and when I came back from my hiatus, you still welcomed me with open arms. 

I know that there are still requests from previous celebrations. I’ll do everything in my power to make them. And this time, we will keep it simple.

The celebration takes time from today - 31.07.2022, to 14.08.2022.

Send me: 

🖋 if you want me to write a blurb for you (you can use one of the prompts from here (1) / (2) / (3) / (4) / (5) / (6) or send me one of yours, remember to send a character! And if you use one of the prompts, please, make it clear from which one list (send me the number that I gave them or copy the prompt)

📘 if you want me to write headcanons for you (tell me about who and about what, you also can use prompts from above)

I’m open to your ideas, but a have some rules - please, write the pronouns I should use - I want to be respectful to all of you and it will make me so much easier. Also, when you chose prompts - please use a max of 3 of them.

At this moment I feel the most comfortable writing about Narnia, Harry Potter Universe, The Mummy (my beloved Ardeth Bay) and Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz. I could also try to write about Bridgertones, Supernatural or Shadow and Bone - I never wrote about them but I’m really eager to try.

Taglist :  @elennox03 @live-love-loki @effielumiere @blackst0nes7077 @mystic-writings @aleksanderblack @radcloudenthusiast @siriuslyslyslytherin @90steaology @mandos-crest @kaqua @aleksanderwh0r3 @anne-kollay @padfootswife24 @crowssixof @x-heartrender-x @siriusbarnesslut  @florqlness @mrs-brekker15  @sassybadqueen @teti-menchon0604 @multifandomrandomgirl @ctrl-z33  @sophiavrodrigues @wecallhimbrowneyess @rominaszh @poisxnedmind​  @frutilooplupin​ @i-spaced-sorry​ 

#500 followers celebration #carnationworldwriting #carnationworldtalking #prince caspian x reader #the chronicles of narnia imagine #the mummy #ardeth bay x reader #greg gerwitz x reader #bridgertones #shadow and bone #darkling x reader #alexander morozova x reader #supernatural #castiel x reader #jack kline x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #george wealsey x reader #wife!reader #daughter!reader #child!reader

[we-were-born-to-be-free]

"You're mine," he whispered.

"Yours" I breathed.

#draco malfoy #aleksander kirigan #draco malfoy x reader #the darkling #alexander morozova #draco malfoy imagines #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #daniel atlan wing #aaron warner #shatter me #warnette #juliette ferrars #aaron warner anderson #fuck paris anderson tho #zade meadows #haunting adeline #dark romance #bookblr #bookaddict #bookish #adeline reily #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co #book boyfriend #kenji kishimoto #tahereh mafi #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games

[saltwaterburns]

shadow & bone has officially been cancelled. i might kill myself. this is the end of my very!!! last!!! straw!!! no mourners no funerals? i'm mourning AND in need of a funeral

#𖦹 saltwaterburns speaks! #shadow and bone #six of crows #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #nina zenik #alina starkov #the darkling #alexander morozova #crows #six of crows jesper #kaz and inej #inej ghafa #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader

[barbarianbookhoe]

I have a very sad angsty plot. How would the Darkling react when Y/N loses someone very important to them? I think he would comfort them as much as he could, and he would know how it would feel because he has lost people in the past.

Oh. My. God. I'm such a slut for angst, thanks for the idea!

Understand

TW: slight swearing, mention of death, angst, grief

[A/n: In this he loses Baghra a lot sooner.]

The silence was deafening. Smoke and fire blurred their vision, time seeming to move too slow and too fast all at once. They didn't know if they were hurt or not, or who the blood on their hands belonged to, and it scared them.

Some noises became clearer for them, as they tried to get themselves up from the ground. They only managed to get into a sitting position, their ears throbbing while doing so. They could distantly hear the muffled yells and the sound of horses neighing.

They didn't pay much attention to the familiar, dark figure getting closer to them. With fear taking a hold of their mind, they began running as fast as their sore legs allowed. They didn't know how far or how fast they moved, nor did they care anymore.

They collapsed just a few steps in front of their limp body. Or was he a corpse now? How long ago had he separated from them? How many injuries did he already had?

Why was he always so fucking stubborn?

The camp was full of injured Grisha, some of their cries so loud they could be heard all over the place. Y/N didn't know how they got into the infirmary tent, nor how they were here, walking to one of the horses to take them back to the Little Palace. They didn't remember how much time passed since they saw the body, or corpse, or whatever he was now.

They felt someone's hand on their shoulder and when they looked up, they saw Alexander staring at them with worry in his eyes.

"How are you feeling? You've been walking around like a ghost the past week," he lightly squeezed their shoulder, trying to give them some sort of comfort.

A week? They've already been here a week?

"I feel, I don't know. There's so many things I should be feeling, but I don't feel any of them. There's just...emptiness." They told him and he looked at them with some sort of understanding, nodding once.

"I know what you're feeling. It's the aftermath of a fight, where you're just, in your head, trying to keep everything inside. I understand if-"

"You don't understand." Y/N told them confidently, finding the strength to their voice for the first time in days. "You will never understand what I'm feeling, Kirigan."

Alexander looked at them with slight surprise, but it was quickly washed away by the mix of anger and confusion at the mention of their fake name. Kirigan. Y/N never called them that, not when they first got here, nor ever since then, only when they were furious with him.

"You should watch your words, soldier. Anyone could hear you talking like this. You wouldn't like to explain yourself to them, would you?" His tone deep and dark, almost threatening, Y/N understood now why they called him The Darkling.

They stared at them for a moment before speaking up, trying to keep their tears from showing. "You will never understand what I'm feeling. You do not have the heart for it, Darkling."

They whispered the last word, watching as his face darkened, his eyes representing a black abyss you could get lost in. Y/N didn't wait for their response. With a swift move, they got up on their horse and caught up to the Grishas ahead of her, even getting to the front of the line, trying to get away from him.

Not because of fear or anger, but before he could see how quickly they fell apart.

It was a few weeks after they arrived back at the Little Palace. They were trying to get back to their life before, despite knowing it will never be the same. The first week they didn't leave their room, not for eating, not for bathing, not for doing anything. Then, the second week they couldn't stay far enough from their bed. They were willing to participate in anything that would keep them moving, doing something, so that they wouldn't have to sleep.

The weeks after that, every day was different. Some days they stayed in their room, silently grieving, trying to muster the energy to get out of bed, other days they couldn't stay still for more than five minutes.

But above all, they made sure they wouldn't have to cross paths with the Darkling. They knew he didn't do anything wrong, he was just trying to be protective, he wasn't even angry, just worried. Y/N knew all of this. And yet, they couldn't face him, nor did they try to.

Until one night in the garden, when Y/N decided to take a walk. They were out alone, most of the Palace already asleep, or heading to sleep. Alexander was watching them from just a few feet away, that couldn't even be considered stalking, with him standing out in the open.

He wasn't wearing his usual attire, the kefta and robe gone, just in his boots, pants and the top of his dark shirt unbuttoned. He made a few steps closer,not even trying to hide himself from them, but they had to be deep in their mind not to notice when he called out to them.

Y/N, without noticing, made their way to him, getting closer with each step. When they finally looked up and saw him, their steps faltered. They stopped just two meters in front of them, trying to gather their thoughts before speaking. And failing to do so.

Alexander spoke up with the outmost sincerety, on a voice so soft and full of care, that it made everything inside Y/N quiet down.

"I know, that you've been avoiding me as much as you could, but I, I just can't keep going on like this." Without hesitating, he stepped closer to them, not giving them time to back out. "Was it something I did? Or said? I just want to know what made you bolt from the camp-"

"Shut up," Y/N mumbled to themself, not loud enough for him to hear, so he kept going.

"And you know, I've been keeping myself composed every hour, but I'm just guessing about what the fuck happened that made you so scared that-"

"Shut up!"

Silence.

A quick, sharp exhale.

A shaky inhale.

"You do not have to know everything. Just let me be!" Y/N said and tried to get past him, but he lightly grabbed their arm and turned to face them. "Then tell me what's wrong and I'll leave it! Tell me anything, just please talk to me!"

Y/N looked at them trying to keep their tears from falling, trying to think of something to say, to get them away.

It seemed that whatever went through their mind, it disappeared as soon as Alexander looked at them with their eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"What hurt you this much?" He asked, almost pleading to get a word out of them. And as soon as he lightly took their face in his hands, the gates opened.

The tears streamed down Y/N's face and they began to sob uncontrollably, yet still trying to keep themself composed.

"He didn't listen to me, when I, when I told him, that, that-" they began, but soon found themself wrapped in the arms of him. Their whole body went limp at the touch, and a second later they were holding onto him as if their life depended on it. Grabbing their back so tight, their fingers turned white.

"Just let it out, let it all out," he whispered as he softly stroked the back of their head. "I'm here for you."

They tried to put their thoughts in order, to give him at least some coherent answer, to tell him their brother was gone. With the emptiness finally coming to an end, all of their emotions came rushing back in waves, each one bigger than the one before.

They didn't know how long they stood there, crying into his shoulder, holding him to keep themself from falling apart completely. When they felt the tears stop, their eyes becoming dry, they pulled away from him just enough to look at him.

"My brother, he was with me in the fight. But then, then we had people attacking both of us, and he, umm, provoked them to get them away from me, and uh," Y/N bitterly laughed as they sniffed. "Then I have his dagger in my hand and, and then I'm yelling at him, to stay beside me, but uh, he didn't, didn't listen."

They sniffed again trying to stop the next wave of tears from falling, some of those tears escaping, but Alexander put his hands on their cheeks to keep them grounded. Y/N took some deep breath and continued.

"Next thing I know is that, is that my hands are soaked in blood, and I'm sitting right beside...my brother's...corpse, oh Saints-" they began to hyperventilate, trying to breathe, but just getting themself even more worked up.

"Look at me, hey, look at me," Alexander says as he's grabbing your shoulders to do as he said. "Alright, breathe with me, okay?" They nod and try to match his movements, feeling their heartbeat slow after a couple of minutes.

"I'm just, so angry at him." They whisper as they finally calm down. "I feel like he died on purpose, just to provoke me, but then I get annoyed because, of course he wouldn't listen to me! He's just so fucking stubborn!" They take a quick inhale and continue despite the crack in their voice.

"And then, I get sad, because it feels like I've lost a piece of myself, and now I have a bruise on my heart in the shape of my brother, and I miss him and I just wish I could've done something to-"

"And it is not your fault!" He tells them firmly and they look up at him unconvinced. "None of this is your fault. You did everything you could to keep him safe. But sometimes, it doesn't matter what you did or didn't do. Sometimes it just happens, even if you do everything and more than you can."

He looks at them with a painful face, as if remembering a memory. A painful one. Neither of you speak for the next few minutes, just gathering yourselves to talk.

"You sound like you have experience in the matter. You lost someone too, didn't you? Someone very close to you," Y/N said and looked at him, only to see grief written all over his face.

"There's not a day that goes by without thinking about them. My family, my friends, my love. I mean, most of them happened decades, even centuries ago and yet, if I close my eyes I can picture everything. Every detail."

He's speaking as if he's telling them a secret, telling them something he's been afraid of to admit. And they understand. They finally understand, just how much theyhurt him with their words in the camp.

"I'm sorry about what I said. I was so, so wrong." They take a step closer to him, making him look at them. "You do have a heart, maybe bigger than most people. And you do understand what I'm feeling. The only difference is that you probably didn't have anyone to comfort you."

He looks at them with question in his eyes, the hidden tears evident in the moonlight. He takes a shaky inhale as they softly wrap them in a hug, just like he did minutes ago.

"Now I'm here. You have me now, Alexander. I'm here for you."

And even though he's spent most of his life hiding beneath a mask, a disguise, for so long that they began to adjust and thrive in the loneliness it brought upon him, the Darkling took a minute to stop.

He took a minute to stop, and let a piece of himself fall apart, and cry.

Y/N, still holding him, told themself that their grief might never go away, it might never leave forever, it might try to eat them up alive, but they were going to get through it, day by day.

And now they had someone to hold onto.

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #six of crows #the darkling x reader #the darkling #ben barnes #alexander morozova #ruin and rising #siege and storm #grishaverse fic

[depressedbagpipe]

A Heartrender's Fire Masterlist

Tolya Yul-Bataar x Lantsov!ofc [Shadow and Bone: Season 2]

Plot overview: Ravka's youngest princes changed their comfortable lives at the Grand Palace in Os Alta for endless adventures at the True Sea on the Volkvolny. Yet now, Nikolai and Irina Lantsov must return home, if only to aid the Sun Summoner defeat the Black Herectic, and unite all Grisha and their home land once again.

Series Warnings: canon-typical violence, grisha!reader (inferni btw), nikolai lantsov is a warning in itself, irina too, the twins being the twins, vasily (unfortunately), i follow the show's timeline, some casual misogyny, dialogue copy-pasted from the show, forever bitter about netflix cancelling it, poor understanding about grisha terminology

A/N: alright so i don't even know where i'm going with this but I've had this idea for far too long and i can't live in peace without writing some of it, at least. also sorry for the book lovers but i really liked the show's timeline so I'm gonna go with that because i can ;)

Chapter one: No shelter but me Chapter two: Rusalye Chapter three: Like calls to like Chapter four: Every Monstrous Thing Chapter five: Ni We Sesh (I Have No Heart) [coming soon]

General Taglist: @angiewhoohooo, @azaleaniath, @mishaandthebrits, @celestialcharles, @idohknow

#shadow and bone #tolya yul bataar #tolya yul bataar x reader #tamar kir bataar #nikolai lantsov #alina starkov #mal oretsev #the darkling #six of crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #alexander morozova #general kirigan #siege and storm #shadow and bone season 2

[kayhi808]

Darkling's Pet

A snippet of their relationship.

The air is frigid in the catacombs below the Little Palace. Dressed in a thin shift, the General drags Nataliya through the twist & turns of the tunnels. Barefoot, the cold stones are almost painful. "Please! Please, General," trying to pry his fingers off her arm. Digging in her heels against the stones to prevent him from dragging her forward.

"You thought to leave me? I've given you everything!"

"Except my free will!"

"Do you know how many would kill to have what you have?" They turn down a corridor to where the Second Army kept their prisoners. "Maybe you need to be reminded about how fortunate you have been." The cries and wails of the tortured get louder the farther in they travel.

"I'm sorry! It was a mistake. I...I won't do it again. I promise!" She struggles to break his grip on her.

"There is nowhere for you to run or hide, that I won't find you!" the Dark General hisses. His grip tightens painfully on her arm, before shoving her into a pitch-black cell.

Nataliya cries out as she hits the ground scraping her hands & knees. She scurries to her feet as Kirigan slams the metal door shut. The noise echoes throughout the tunnels. "No! Please!" She feels the claws of the General's shadows raking down her calves. "I'm sorry! Mercy, please! I'll behave. I'll be good." Tears streak down her face, fighting the need to scream struggling to break loose. She hears his retreating bootsteps as the pain of the claws now rake down her body. Overwhelming terror tightens her chest making it difficult to draw breath into her lungs.

If only she hadn't run from him.

******

"Nataliya, wake up." Gasping for air, arms flailing, trying to strike out at the dangerous shadows, Kirigan, wraps his arms around her, securing her wrists, pulling her back up against his chest. "Shhhh, Zaya (bunny), you're safe, I got you." His voice is raspy from sleep, in her ear. "I got you." Those words were not comforting words. Just the opposite.

Waking with a start, heart racing, she takes a quick inventory of her surroundings. She's not in the cells under the Little Palace. She's in the General's bed. A far more dangerous place. Forcing her body to relax & go limp, not wanting to offend him. She pulls away from Kirigan, "I'm sorry I woke you." Rolling over to face him & put some distance between them, "Thank you for waking me."

Brushing her hair back & placing a kiss on her lips, "Bad dream?" His warm dry hands rub up & down her spine thinking to soothe her. She nods. "Want to tell me about it?" Peppering kisses along her neck.

Knowing his faithful Heartrenders, Ivan & Fedyor aren't around to gage her heartrate, she risks a lie, "No, it's already starting to fade, " shaking her head, "I'm ok now." Thinking to comfort her, the General gathers her close. It only succeeds in doing the opposite. His arms & body engulfs & suffocates her, trapping her at his side.

@arwensloanebarnes @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @k-marzolf @e-dubbc11

Next

#the darkling #the darkling x oc #general kirigan #alexander morozova #aleksander kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova

[fandomscompilation]

Life over death (The Darkling x Reader) Part Three

Fandom: Grishaverse

Pairing: Alexander Morozova x Reader

Warnings: implied being kidnapped and tortured, mentions of injuries, drüskelle, intimidation tactics

A/N: Another part is here! General meeting Reader. From the next parts the fic will be written in first person, because I feel more comfortable and it turns out better. Let me know what you think or if you have any tips for the continuation. Remember requests are open!

Gif is not mine!

"General." A panting Inferni ran up to the General and his Oprichnik. "There's a group of Grisha outside." The man frowned confused.

"And?" He prompted the young boy who blinked quickly. He was one of the younger Grisha and as any other he was intimidated by his General.

"They.. um, it seems they run from the drüskelle. But they don't seem to trust us, said they'll wait for someone else." He informed looking from the man to the other one.

"Did they say who?" The General asked already moving to head outside.

"No. They only said they would not move inside without her. Whoever she is." His words made him even more confused. His Grisha came back to The Little Palace and didn't trust their own. And yet they waited for some woman?

He walked out to the courtyard and immediately noticed the group. They were huddled in the center, staying close to each other. He knew some of their faces, saw them around the Palace, they were gone for weeks now. One of the young men seemed to stand in front of the others. He was the only one not to glance to the gates.

"General." He nodded when the man finally reached them. His eyes scanned them once again. From up close he noticed the injuries. He clenched his jaw before looking back to the boy.

"Why are you not heading in?" He asked with curiousity and authority.

"We refuse to walk in without one of ours." He said confidently making the General raise a brow. "She was the one to save us, we'll wait here."

"She? Just one woman saved you from captivity?" His question was met with silence from the man in front of him.

"She took on eight of them." A girl from behind said with a small smile. "She's a Saint." Her voice was full of amazement towards the unknown saviour.

"Don't be ridiculous." Another boy snapped with irritation. "Just because she's quick to kill doesn't mean we should worship her."

"Believe what you want, Pavel. But we all saw what she can do." She snapped back with a huff.

Before the General could ask further about the mysterious woman a horse could be heard. They all turned to watch a woman clad in grey ride in. She stopped just a step behind the group before dismounting the grey horse. She walked up to stand beside the young man and facing the General. His eyes were focused on her already. He took note of each detail. The jewelry she wore, only golden rings. The silver lining on her cloak. The weird feeling he got when she neared him.

"Who are you?" He asked in his commanding voice. He was showing authority, the General everyone feared and respected. But she only smiled lightly.

"You do not know me." Her voice carried over the courtyard like a melody. "I am not one of yours."

"Show me your face." The General hissed loosing his patience with each minute. He did not like the open show she was putting on. An unknown Grisha entering his grounds and already having his people dote on her.

"As you wish." She nodded reaching up to her hood. Her hair flowed over her back, even after the long journey they looked flawless. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. Her lips stretched in a light smile. "The name's Y/N."

"You saved them?" He nodded to the group beside her. Her eyes fell to the Grisha and she send them a comforting smile, one a mother would to a child.

"I simply led them home." Her soft spoken words made something stirr inside him. He didn't like the unknown feeling.

"Lead them to the Healers. Feed them and let them rest." The General said to his Oprichnik who stood behind him. "And you, follow me. We'll have a talk."

He turned walking back into the Palace. She waved at the group and followed his steps. Her feet were silent, but he could hear her cloak swish behind her.

Her eyes wandered around the walls, taking note of each door and window. She was smart enough to count all the escape routes if it came to using one. His doors were guarded by Squallers and she spared them a glance to size her situation.

"How did you avoid my testers?" Was the first question he asked when the doors closed behind them. She hummed lightly looking around his office.

"I didn't. My powers weren't there when I was of age." Her words caused a slight panic to raise within him. No one became Grisha overnight.

"What do you mean?" His voice was still cold, even though she sensed the hint of confusion.

"I mean exactly what you fear, General." Her eyes finally met his gaze. He could see the darkness inside. She was not the innocent woman she seemed to be. There was knowledge to her gaze and he started to wonder if she was like him. If she could turn out to be his most loyal ally, or if she would be his greatest enemy. Slowly he walked to stand close to her, it did not intimidate her.

"Give me your arm." His words brought a sweet chuckle from her. But before he could reach out she grabbed his hand.

He felt it. The burning in his veins, like that day. Yet it did not irritate him like before. This time around he felt power, pure and unbreakable power flowing from her hand into his very own soul. He knew that feeling, he felt it before.

"You're no ordinary amplifier, are you?" He asked while she stepped back from him. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of his office.

"Do you think I'd willingly come to you if I was?" He eyed her carefully while all she did was stand there like he could not hurt her, no matter how much he tried. "I'm much more than your Grisha. I'm more than you and your creation. I'm all you fear and dream of. I can be your salvation or death. For I'm everything here and in between."

"How is this possible?" The General asked frowning. For the first time in centuries his stomach twisted in fear.

"The world demands balance. You ruined it ages ago, Black Heretic." He straightened his back ready to threaten her for even suggesting it. "I should thank you actually. If not your doings I would not be reborn with the chance for revenge."

They stood facing each other. Him, a man that was feared by others. Someone with the power to cut the world apart. Her, a woman that came from nowhere. Someone that was ready to burn the world down, only for a moment of peace.

"Welcome to The Little Palace, Y/N." He said after few seconds and the smile she gave made him want to say it over and over again. The General felt even closer to achieving his dream with this mysterious woman filled by power.

#fanfiction #writing #fanfic #grishaverse #the darkling x reader #alexander morozova #general kirigan #life over death fanfic #requests are open

[hottpinkpenguin]

Seafoam (part 6 - finale)

Series masterlist Warnings: major character death, canon divergence

Genya had never seen anything like it before. The entire mountaintop was charred as if by wildfire, although it was impossible to see how a fire could have started on the windswept, snow-covered mountain. When the scouts had found her - breathless and terrified, prattling on about black flames on the top of the mountain - she’d been content to write them off as the half-lucid ramblings of soldiers on the brink of starvation. 

It wasn’t until the scouts had told her that they couldn’t locate the General and showed her the note that they’d found in his tent that she’d known it was him. Genya had hardly spoken to Aleksander in the last few weeks, but she’d seen signs of wear on him. He’d begun to lose the swagger of leadership that had kept him so competently in control of the shattered Second Army. His shoulders were stooped and his skin pallid in a way that was deeper than hunger. And when she’d seen the note - Dawn. Mountaintop. Come alone. - she’d known exactly why he’d gone to the top of that mountain. It was for her, his unnamed lover. Genya knew that the Fjerdans held her, but she hadn’t spoken with the General about it since that night after Private Tovin returned from his ill-fated mission to Os Alta. That had been almost three weeks ago. 

Genya had mobilized what was left of the Grisha and taken all those who could fight up the mountain. There were only a few dozen of them, and even fewer than that were in real fighting shape. The climb up the mountain had been arduous and several had been forced to turn back rather than brave the rock scramble that led them above the crest of the mountaintop. By some stroke of luck, they hadn’t encountered any Fjerdans, although their scouts had found fresh tracks for a battalion of druskelle leading up the mountain. There was only one passable path that led both up and down the peak’s side, so it should have been impossible to miss any of their enemies. Yet none came. It was as if they’d vanished into thin air.

The mystery of the vanishing druskelle was quickly answered when they’d climbed the final rock scramble and clambered over the edge of the steep cliff that marked the top of the mountain. Unlike some of the other peaks nearby, this mountain had a flattened top. A mix of thick, pine-dense forests identical to the carpet of pines that stretched out for miles from the foot of the frozen mountain-range ringed a large clearing that marked the center of the mountain. 

The clearing was blackened, as were all the tree trunks. A few of the low-hanging branches still smoldered, and a noxious smoke hung in the air, stinging her eyes and nose. The acrid smell of burnt flesh mixed with the fresh scent of pine in a nauseous combo. As more and more exhausted Grisha poured into the clearing from the single-file mountain pass, their expressions all flickered through a predictable progression. Relief at finally having reached the summit after a punishing climb. Confusion at finding obvious evidence of a wildfire amidst the frozen landscape. Comprehension as their eyes raked over the burnt mounds dotting the clearing, all that remained of the druskelle battalion the scouts had tracked up the mountainside. And lastly: curiosity. 

Everyone’s eyes came to rest on the two figures in the dead center of the clearing. Surrounded by a pristine ring of white snow, Genya recognized the General in a kefta as black as the charred earth nearby. Cradled in his arms was a sickly looking woman, dirty and bloodied. The two were intertwined like vines, clinging to each other. 

As the others began to recognize the General, their expressions became somber. Their eyes stayed glued to the two figures in the center of the clearing, although no one made to approach them. Genya felt herself beginning to tremble as a weighty silence settled over the mountainside. Realization was sinking into her bones, into those of her compatriots around her. The druskelle battalion they’d tracked up the mountain had been the same force that had effectively cut off their retreat through the mountain range’s southern ravine. With the druskelle all dead, their escape route back to Os Alta was clear. The majority of the Fjerdan army remained firmly dug in at their winter camp on the northern plateau, a five days’ hard march. Although the Second Army was tattered, exhausted, diseased, and utterly broken, hope flamed in their hearts for the first time in months. They could leave. They were no longer penned in like chattel waiting for the merciless Fjerdan winter to pick them off, one by one. They could go home.

Genya’s eyes swam with tears as she took a few halting steps towards the center of the clearing. The charred earth crunched like brittle bones beneath her feet. The thought of returning to Os Alta and to Ravka after such a hopeless stretch of dying by inches felt like a drug. It sang through her veins, and her mind immediately turned to happy thoughts of David. She could almost taste their future stretching out in front of her. Years of happiness, far from the cold and the horrible memories of the mountains. Genya’s heart felt as if it would fly free from her ribs when she realized that she and David could even welcome children, one day. She saw sunsets over southern seas, horseback rides through mist-drenched forests, sumptuous meals in front of a roaring hearth. But with each step closer to the two figures in the center of the clearing, the cost of that future was becoming more apparent.

It wasn’t until she was close enough to touch him that Genya knew the General was dead. Like the woman in his arms, his skin was rigid to the touch and his lips and fingertips were turning blue. His hands framed the otkazat'sya’s face as if he’d been brushing her hair from her brow the moment life had left his body. Their foreheads were touching, and they both had their eyes closed, their faces smoothed and peaceful. Genya’s tears spilled down her cheeks with a broken whimper when she saw that the General was smiling. It was a soft smile, but even in death it seemed to erase the lines of hunger, pain, and grief that had been permanently etched in his face from the war. Her face an exact mirror of the General’s gentle expression, the otkazat'sya’s lips were slightly parted and curved. 

Genya crouched next to the two figures, muttering a prayer to the Saints for safe passage of their souls. She realized that she still didn’t know the name of the woman in the General’s arms, the woman that he’d lived for and died with, so she prayed simply for the Sankta Otkazat'sya and moi severenyi. As if in answer, Genya felt the softest breeze brush the cooled tears on her cheeks. She smiled and wiped away the moisture on her cheeks, wanting to commit this image of her General to memory. It was the happiest she’d seen him since they’d left Os Alta so many months ago.

After a few moments, Genya felt a strong hand come to rest on her shoulder. She stood, letting David wrap his arms around her. His warmth felt stronger somehow, and for reasons she couldn’t explain Genya knew at that moment that they would survive. Perhaps it was the faintest hint of spring’s thaw in the breeze that danced through the clearing. Maybe it was the image of General Kirigan, his hair and kefta as black as the burned mountaintop, with his beatific smile holding a woman she’d never known but would never forget. Perhaps it was David’s warmth against her or the spark of life in the eyes of the Grisha around her. 

A few of the Grisha stepped forward, their hands outstretched towards General Kirigan and the otkazat'sya in his arms. Genya spoke, calmly but with confidence.

“Leave them,” she commanded. The Grisha shot her surprised looks but obeyed immediately, stepping back from the bodies. She felt a strange sense of confidence settle in her voice as she spoke.

“They stay where they lie. They couldn’t choose to live together, but we can grant them an eternity together in death.” 

The Grisha nodded quietly. A few of them sank to their knees in the snow next to their General, murmuring quiet prayers or words of farewell. One by one, as each concluded their goodbyes, they turned and headed back down the mountain. Genya knew they were all going back to the camp to prepare for the long trek southward, back into Ravka. It would take them the better part of two weeks to cross the border, but it was an unspoken understanding that, with the druskelle cleared from their path, home was finally within reach. 

The sun was sinking towards the horizon before the last of the Grisha began their descent down the mountain. David, Ivan, and Genya were the last to leave, each saying a private goodbye to their General. They descended the mountain in companionable silence. Although there was much to look forward to, all three of them found their thoughts dwelling on the commander they’d left in the clearing atop the mountain. He and the otkazat'sya he’d loved were exactly as they’d been found that morning, save for one small difference.  Genya smiled down at the piece of seafoam fabric she’d taken out of the General’s hand. Although it was dirty with age and had some of the otkazat'sya’s blood dried on its threads, the color was bright and true. With the fabric tied loosely around her wrist, she let her thoughts drift away from the mountaintop and towards the future…

thanks for reading!

#darkling #darkling fanfiction #darkling shadow and bone #the darkling #darkling x reader #darkling x you #darkling x y/n #darkling imagine #alexander morozova #alexander morozova x you #alexander morozova x y/n #alexander morozova x reader #alexander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #aleksander morozova x y/n #shadow and bone #seafoam series

[cheekygreenty]

Season two

I didn’t want to write this I really didn’t but I am beyond disappointed at season two. I have nothing against Six of Crows however I watched for Shadow and Bone. Alina’s character arc was ruined, the Darkling was discredited and Mal was glorified. Don’t get me started on how there was more screen time for the crows in a show that wasn’t even theirs.

The plot was completely abandoned and ruined from the S&B books. The relationship between Alina and the Darkling were complicated and intricate, with deep and personal battles. The show got rid of all dimension in favour of Mal, which in the books was good for nothing.

Season two of Shadow and Bone was written for the spin off which isn’t deserved.

I don’t care if they cancel, but I will not be watching season three and will forget season two ever happened.

#shadow and bone #the darkling #the darkling x reader #grisha #imagine #ben barnes #alexander #alexander morozova #alina starkov #fanfic #general kirigan x reader #black general #general kirigan #kefta #shadow summoner #aleksander morozova x reader #series #keftas #little palace #one shot #six of crows

[lilacchameleon]

The Darkling's daughter.

You are a very respected person.

You was walking in the park of the Little Palace. A group of young grisha was walking towards you. When you approached everyone straightened their shoulders and respectfully bowed their heads. You smiled them quietly and went on your way.

As soon as you passed by, they immediately began to murmuring admiringly.

You were flattered by this attitude. Some looked up to you, some were jealous, and other just dreamed of you. Everyone wanted your attention and you damn loved it.

You must respect and fulfill any will of General Kirigan.

In front of the others, you always obeyed and listened to your mighty father without any question. Everyone admired how Darkling brought up loyalty and obedience in you but there is one catch.

When you were alone and the strict General Kirigan turned into Alexander Morozova your sharp tongue often drew you into arguments with him. He always so mad when you unceremoniously interrupt him, turn your back and ignore his demands to come to his office. You even had the courage to challenge his decisions and say "no" looking into his black bottomless eyes.

When your father is really mad on you, you'd better stay out of his sight.

"Where the hell is she?! " General Kirigan was furious.

Half an hour ago, he sent several oprichniki for his daughter but already an hour has passed and you still haven't come. He decided that you wanted to play on his nerves and make this day even worse.

Ivan ran towards him. The man was out of breath trying to catch up with the storming General. "Moi soverennyi!"

You were standing in the distance, hiding in the shadows. You were in a very bad mood. The Darkling was extremely dissapointed with your recent tricks and invited you for a serious conversation but you was fearing his anger and decided to wait until he calms down. But as every minute passed it seemed to you more and more that it was a mistake.

Despite being strict with you, he loves you and wants the best for you.

It was the middle of the night and you've been asleep for a long time.

Alexander came into your room. He smiled at the sight of you sleeping. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you with concern. You didn't wake up. He gently ran his hand through your hair. Sleeping, you were so quiet and relaxed. Your father liked it so much. It reminded him of the times when you were just an innocent child.

You've grown up and become just like him. Sometimes he caught himself thinking that he began to understand what difficulties his mother went through when he was at the same age.

He breathed deeply. Recently, you've been getting out of his control more and more often so he has to be very strict with you. He doesn't like to scold and severely punish you but you leave him no choice.

"I love you, little one." He leaned forward and left a small kiss on your forehead.

#shadow and bone #the darkling #alexander morozova #general kirigan #ben barnes #reader #daughter!reader #the darkling's daughter #the darkling x reader #alexander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #grishaverse #female!reader #y/n

[mythsha]

chapter 1

Summary: Does past define someone, or perhaps what they were born as? Everyone looked at Alina Starkov as if she was the answer to all their questions. But Alina felt that Kyra Kozlov was the answer to all her problems. Kyra was a mystery, a powerful Grisha, and somehow she started to be the sun summoner's home too.

Kyra always heard whispers but for once they weren't about her presence;  the grisha had found a new topic to talk about; the hallways were flooded with talks of a summoner who could call the sun.

Kyra yet hadn't met the summoner, but felt pity for the girl knowing how pestering grisha can be if they wanted to be. Maybe that's why she opted to serve at the country's borders away from the little palace.

She had arrived at the little palace only days before the sun summoner; and though it had been only two weeks she already wanted to leave the little palace. She wasn't close with many grisha and the ones she knew were either in the front lines or in the darkling's inner circle. She kept her distance from the latter, having enough of political matters.

Usually she would be by the lake, teaching and supervising the training tidemakers or in her room sitting at her desk with piles of paper. Yes, she had declared she hated political matters but being a grisha of her rank, she had no choice but to manage the issues in the borders. Hey, at least they were far better than the atrocious things the king's advisers suggest the general.

A book was open in her lap, the words glaring at her for her attention but her focus was on touching the edges of the book lost deep in thought. She had been sitting like that for a long time since she had wandered the halls and settled in the library after dinner. The footfalls of someone and a soft hushed voice got her to glance up from the book. Turning to look she figured it was someone behind the bookshelf possibly searching for a book.

Indulging into the book again she failed to sooth the glare the words had set upon her; she got up to leave placing the book on the bookshelf where it belongs. Rounding the corner of the bookshelf she spotted the person she heard before, it was a girl and by the colour of her kefta she was an etherealki.

The girl muttered something under her breath when she couldn't reach the book on the shelf, pulling her hands down she moved away from the shelf not yet noticing Kyra standing. When the girl disappeared from Kyra's sight she moved towards the book the etherealki was  trying to reach and grabbed it with much ease spying at the cover; it was a book about ravkan folklore. Hearing a thud Kyra saw the girl again now with a stool by her feet a defeated look on her face. It took a moment for Kyra to realise what the girl must have thought, she took her book. 

Kyra smiled stepping towards the girl extending the book towards her. The girl eyed it for a moment a took it, giving a slight nod.

"Ravkan folklore?" Kyra offered to the girl who looked increasingly uncomfortable. really? ravkan folklore?

"Something wrong with it?" Dark brown eyes stared up at her. Kyra now took notice of the embroidery in the girl's kefta- Saints, this was the sun summoner. 

"No, there's nothing wrong with it. It is good book, a lot of illustrations;" pointing towards the book, " A lot of hidden meaning are expressed beautifully in the illustrations."

The girl hummed, she looked pretty relaxed now but there was a bit of stiffness in her shoulders as if she were alert for some danger. Kyra lifted her hands, as if in surrender "Relax, I'm not going to bite you;" her words ending with a chuckle, "I'm Kyra Kozlov, if you're up for introductions?" Kyra offered her hand forward.

"Alina Starkov" the girl accepted Kyra's hand, a truce of sorts to whatever was going on. Alina shrugged her shoulders, "I-I just didn't realise anyone was in the library other then me" She slightly tilted her head, smiling.

"Well I apologise then, I didn't expect anyone to be in the library at this hour either; grisha usually don't linger by the library after dinner" Kyra moved away from Alina reaching for another book on the shelf. "This one, Miss Starkov;"  She tapped at the worn cover, "Is also really good. Similar genre" 

Alina reached forward, running her fingers over the cover. "Thanks Miss Kozlov, I sure will read it" looking up at Kyra, she gently took the book from her hands. "It's alright, and Kyra is enough" Kyra's eyes followed her hands watching the gold threads by her kefta's reflect the soft light.

"Only if you call me Alina, Kyra" she shifted her arms positioning the two books more comfortable, raising her eyebrow

"Then as you wish, Alina" Kyra whispered leaning against the shelf, drawling her name.

Alina felt heat creeping up her neck at that, huffing a small laugh,"I- better get going. Good night Kyra" Alina muttered, nodding towards the library doors and kind of hurrying towards it.

"Sweet dreams then!" Kyra called after the girl. Well she met the sun summoner. Kyra's eyes moved to the window, it wasn't that late and she nothing to do. Why not have an early night as well?

chapter 2 sankta masterlist

#alina starkov x reader #alina starkov fanfic #alina starkov #alina starvok #alina starkova #the darkling #leigh bardugo #the grisha trilogy #siege and storm #grisha trilogy #grisha netflix #grishaverse #the grisha series #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse fandom #seige and storm #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone #oc #original character #mal oretsev #genya safin #grisha #save shadow and bone #zoya nazyalensky #david kostyk #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova #alexander morozova #ruin and rising

[we-were-born-to-be-free]

I have a fic idea for Alexander Morozova. So you could do a goddess reader. Maybe a goddess of the stars, and have smut at the end where Alexander is worshiping readers body calling her his goddess

Goddess - A.M

A/N: Umm... I don't write smut, but I can give it a shot. I have to start somewhere. Thank you for the request<3

Aleksander was so hopelessly in love. In love with Y/N. His little saint. His goddess of the stars.

He had married her years ago. They had both taken the vows to protect each other, to constantly shower the other with love. They had never been happier.

But one day, when his loyalties were being questioned, he was confused. Alina Starkov, the new-found sun summoner had entered the little palace. She had been one of his utmost priorities, next to you of course.

But you hadn't felt that way. You felt as though he was neglecting you, abandoning you. All for his new summoner. Before you knew it, tears were rolling down your cheeks as you sat on your bed in your private room. You were hardly ever there, always in Aleksander's room.

For the first time since you had married your husband, you felt alone. You hadn't seen Aleksander all week. You had purposefully tried to avoid him. You didn't need to distract him from taking care of his new summoner. He couldn't be bothered to check on his own wife.

Genya was the only person that knew about your troubles with Aleksander. She was your most trusted servant, and your dear friend. So as you sat there, loneliness swallowing you, she held you close. She held you like a sister would.

"Y/N. Hello pretty." She gave you that nickname a while ago. "What's wrong? Are you thinking about the General again?" You gave her a soft nod and unwillingly started sobbing even harder. After a while, she let go of you and retired to her room, wishing you well.

Aleksander had seen Genya coming out of your room. He stopped her before she continued down the corridor. "Miss Safin? May I stop you for a moment?"

She turned around giving the General a little bow before saying, "Yes General. Is there something wrong?" She already knew what the topic was about. She just didn't want to be rude.

"I see that you have been with Y/N a lot lately. How is she," he asked, not knowing your state.

"General, you may as well see for yourself. She's unhappy. She feels lonely," she states.

Aleksander was shocked. "But why should she be lonely? She has been avoiding me the entire week?"

"General, I think you should ask her yourself. I'll take your leave now General," she says, before giving him a little bow and hurrying down the corridor.

He stops outside your door, contemplating why you are so unhappy. As he opens the door and walks into your room, there you are. His beautiful little saint. But you were curled up on your bed, tears flowing and being caught by your pillow.

His heart ached. "Y/N? Lapushka, are you awake?"

You responded with a little squeak. He came to sit down next to you, raking his fingers through your dark hair. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of him being with you again. He noticed this and came to lay in bed with you.

"Darling? What's wrong my love? Why have you been avoiding me?" he asks.

You shuffle away from him, onto the far side of the bed. "I haven't been avoiding you,' you whispered. "You're just too busy fussing over your sun summoner." Your voice broke as you said the last part of the sentence.

"No Lapushka. I swear I haven't. I've just been very busy my love," he says as he tries to console you. "Please turn around darling."

You turned around to face your husband. He sees you, with fresh tears in your eyes, ready to fall. "Oh darling," he says wiping the tears off your cheeks.

"Were you so busy this week that you completely forgot to say a simple 'good morning' to your wife," you say. "So busy with your new sun summoner that you completely forgot that you even had a wife," you say, your walls now coming down. "I felt so alone, Aleksander. So hurt and in so, so much pain."

He brought his lips to yours and captured them in a gentle kiss. "Let me make it up to you my goddess," he says. "Let me make you feel good lapushka."

And with that he kissed you again, this time a little rougher and full of passion. He pulled you closer, one hand on your hips, on hand on cradling your face. He softly bit your lip, making you moan into the kiss. His lips travelled your neck, sucking and biting the spots that made you feel good.

He tugged at your clothes before saying, "These need to come off darling. Now."

You and Aleksander took your clothes off as quick as you could. You looked into his dark eyes before he kissed you again. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you off your feet and set you on the bed.

He kissed down your neck, giving some attention to your hardening nipples. You moaned as his tongue swirled around your breasts. "So beautiful for me milaya. My goddess. Do you want to come for me darling?"

You nodded quickly in agreement, wanting your husband to make you feel special. He continued kissing down your body, worshiping every part of you. He positioned his face between your thighs, before kissing them gently.

He looked at you and asked, "Are you sure lapushka?" You nodded very quickly, almost too quick. "Words, darling. Use your words."

"Yes."

That was the confirmation he needed before slowly licking up your core, making you gasp at the sudden contact. He licked up all your juices before saying, "So wet for me my goddess. So pretty. Just for me."

He continued to lick your soaked pussy, making you moan in pleasure. He started pumping a finger in your cunt. You started panting and moaning his name.

"Oh, Aleksander. Fuck."

He moaned into your pussy, the vibrations making you moan once again. "Aleksander," you moan. "I'm going to come."

His tongue moved faster and added another finger pumping into you. You cried out Aleksander's name as you came. He continued to ride out your high, licking and sucking your pussy.

He kissed your stomach, leaving wet spots all over your body. "You taste delicious darling."

He kissed you while positioning himself in front of your entrance. He pushed himself inside of you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You both hissed at the feeling.

He started pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. A low sound came out of the back of his throat as he fucked you. You moaned loudly, pleasure coursing through your veins.

He slowly sped his pace that had rendered you helpless under his touch. He kissed you again while fucking your pussy. You broke the kiss, and moaned, "I'm going to come."

"Come around my cock darling."

You both came at the same time. Your vision blurred as you came hard. He helped you ride out your high as he came too.

He pulled out of you and got up to clean you both. When he finished he lay down on your bed, gathering you in his arms.

"Lapushka?"

"Yes Sasha."

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this," he apologises.

"It's alright Sasha. I've got you with me now."

"I love you, my beautiful goddess."

"I love you too, my god."

#aleksander kirigan #the darkling #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova x reader #alexander morozova #aleksander morozova smut #smut